And then like that, it's over for yet another year. Like it didn't even happen.
I wish that I’ll never have to come home to my father taking refuge in the cold garage in his black sweatpant and teeshirt after-work wear any more. I wish that for once things will be ok. That I wont need to recede into invisibility behind my closed bedroom door and pretend there isn’t a lion pacing its lair on the upstairs floor. I wish that I won’t need to cram my schedule full of extracurriculars so I can pretend this doesn’t exist and I am not a part of it. I wish I’d never be sad again. Never let the tears wield their terrible power over me. Never let them choke me and punch me in the gut until I can’t stand strait and I crumble. I wish I could be stronger; That I could be better with dealing with everything, and anything. I wish I could be simpler; Easier to understand, so that my partner could read me like a cook book. Find the right recipe to make me happy, and follow the simple steps. But I am Shakespeare to the high school drop-outs, I’m impossible to interpret without hours of mental input, and it drives so many away. I wish there was a spark notes for me. So the ones who cared could decipher, filter and figure me out. And I’d be simple again. I wish I had never grown out of make believe. Wish I could still cook recipes in the bird bath and drink from the hose when I got thirsty and escaped into a safe world. I wish my world was smaller. Wish I wasn’t aware of the horrors of humanity, the greed and the apathy that has driven our race into the mud. I wish I had more faith in myself. Wish I could share my thoughts in real time, instead of writing them down and hiding behind a poem in order to speak.
I wish for a lot of things. But I only need one wish to come true. for the strength to grant my wishes myself.
your Sacral Chakra is STRONG, you see sex in a positive light, as a glorious, pleasurable and healthy activity. You enjoy passionate, frequent and long-lasting sex with your partner. Orgasms are mind-blowing, and you and your partner often orgasm at the same moment. You make time to have sex at least a few times a week, even if you've been married or attached to the same person for years. You are always able to attract the right partners; compatible people who nourish you, fill you with joy and make you a better person.
your Heart Chakra is STRONG, you enjoy comfortable, loving and empathic relationships at home, at work and in your community. You get along with your family. Your friends see you as a reliable person. At work, you're known as the one people can talk to. You feel a heartfelt sense of gratitude for how wonderful your life is, and feel compassion for all around you.your Throat Chakra is CLOSED, you constantly feel like nobody cares about your opinions, and that you have nothing of value to say. You're likely to be known as the 'quiet one' in your professional and social circles, and you frequently settle with following other people's opinions. You often suffer from a blocked and sore throat.
04:24pm | Oct 29, '09 | PublicIndian Giver (I turned my back)
Today at 12:00am
You are a shadow now. And I can't conjure the image that was printed on my eyelids after each breath between us. The words I draw are heavy and reluctant, hanging onto the tissues of my mind with tiny frozen fingers. I feel I need to put you to phrases. But I've thrown all my effort into forgetting it all. Pushed my shoulder against the door to keep your memory out. Put the blinders made of distance up because I didn't want to hurt. I didn't need to see the destruction lain in my wake, the razor blades of silence, pins and needles of new love. You're numb and alone and So thick in my dust as I sped off that I don't see you. Because I turned my back. Out of sight, out of my mind, but I know I sit in yours, fermenting, stewing in God knows what. And I've rooted a poison in you. because I turned my back. And I tore you down, I ripped you up and sent you to the wind. And I have searched for those fragments but the time as snatched them away from me and it served me right. Because I turned my back, and the world went on behind it. I didn't want the problems of another clamoring in my head, trying to prevent the premature death of my found soft silence. I turned away from each piercing smile each sodden tear each silly word written on paper and sent to you. I took away those promises of forever and the poems of true love. Obsolete ideas, I paid them no mind, they held no weight. Turned away from the safety in your arms, hidden in the eye of the storm as hell broke loose around us. I blamed it on change, the inevitability as time passes and tears the canvas down with relentless fingernails. I can't say what's to blame but I know I'm the only one at fault. I want this to speak I'm sorry. I don't know how I wrote this, it was not planned. But now that it's out the first step has been taken.
iv read this over and over in my head....upsetting me more and more every time =( im lost in the words again, of what used to be... a cluster of feelings and emotions all trying to express at the same time; but since they cant escape i shut down. hoping that reading it again i will understand. hoping that id see it how your emotions would express it. do you want me out of your life for good?? or are you saying the opposite¿¿ i honestly dont know... but im glad you do understand that i went from #1 to ignored in a matter of 1 day and im glad to hear that you just pushed me out......... what were those ilu from behind the door?? were they just words? what do you mean the 1st step has been taken? to hurt and cofuse me more?!? i dont know im so lost and full of mixed feelings....i care to much and i wonder if i should care the way you do? but y would i force a friend away................
what would you do if you put your life blood, your sweat into making the ones you loved happy, so much it ran you dry. so much you didnt know what it was like to make yourself happy. What would you do when you were drained and no matter how hard you tried to put it behind you, tell yourself it's worth it to hurt and bleed for people who only half notice, you can't make yourself happy? What would you do?
It's like shoving a puzzle piece into an empty spot that doesn't quite match up, yet you try and try because you want to feel whole, you want to feel complete. But in the end the edges of the whole you foolishly tried to fill start to throb and hurt and you feel emptier than you did before, all you've managed to do is draw attention to the gape.
I want so bad to be free of your memory. I don't want to keep thinking about you, but I can't help it. It's not because I miss you. Not because I still care. I don't. I'm cold as a fall morning for you. Void of feeling. Yet you still have the ability to have my heart in a choke hold. You seep back in when i reveal my cracks. And you will make me crumble. You confound me. Why do you hold this power over me, two years after? Why did I have to ever meet you. Why did I subject myself to you, or was it to me? to my weakness, to my faults, my love. My goddamned bleeding heart. You hypnotized me, moth to bright obscuring light. debilitating. You found me when I was young. Soft and shape-able. you held firm, until your fingerprints were printed on my flesh, impressed upon me permanently. And when I finally left you I hardened my skin, became rigid baked clay. But I didn't think to smooth your marks away, and now I am left with them. And I want so much to just sand my edges down, but I'm afraid I will be reduced to dust, because you run so deep I can't even find the bottom of you. And now I must find a way to rehydrate my skin and smooth out your wrinkles once and for all. And this is where I am lost for where to begin. I open up the wounds, talk, write, share, in a hope it will disinfect and stitch up with string that leave no scars. But there is no end to you. And you are so enweaved with my brain synapse highways that I will always stumble across you, trip the switch to bring it all crawling back. Like a zombie, hungry for me. emotions dead yet undead, unwilling to ever give up.
What did I do wrong?
I bite my tongue, suck it in and swallow. Let words wallow and wilt in a cell that I build for all those that never made it out. Silenced by my doubt and left to sink down my esophagus, seared by stomach acid, they smolder. Growing older, growing stale, I fail to cultivate, to mitigate the weight of words solidifying, not trying to save them from a useless state.
I’ve got indigestion from all the unconventional confections I've been ingesting, testing my limits. I’ve got heartburn, because I never learned to chew my food. I swallow whole sentences in one bite despite it being rude. But it’s a habit I’ve fallen into, a pit I’ve slipped into and can’t escape. I can’t shape a sentence worth sharing, not caring to be a part of the conversation. I have no declarations I deem fit for telling, no ideas that I’m selling at any price. I think twice about speaking and by then I’ve lost my chance. It’s a dance I don’t know the moves to.
Like changing lanes in heavy traffic, if i hesitate i am lost, so at the cost of raising questions i chose to stay in my lane. not changing my habits to fit into the flow. i slow down and turn down a side street where i can breathe, sit, park and watch as others lead the chase. I can't seem to face up to being part of that race to nowhere. I can fake it but I’m always half a beat behind, and I find it easier to just stop, take the time to think, and if the words sink to my stomach half chewed once more, at least I’ll have stores of ideas for when winter comes and they’re hard to come by.
But stomach full and mouth shut,I'm in a rut.
Twas an interesting and enjoyable walk.
but here i am. unable to connect with this other dimension, and i'm starting to reflect, This is a good thing. Free my mind so i can focus on the now, not always one step ahead, head in the clouds, eyes looking down as i walk eyes fixed on this hopeless little screen. I can look up. And i think i'll like what I see.
we both fell harder than we had expected. In different ways. You loved me ridiculously, like a lost puppy. And I was the one who took pity and couldn’t resist those eyes.
you’re welcome for the help. The thousand dollars gone and never returning, spent on nothing of any use. You’re welcome for my attempts at helping you. getting you a dentist to take off your braces, you didn’t even go to the last appointment. My parents too, helped you tirelessly. My mom, trying to find you jobs, or get into government help programs. You turned it all away. You weren’t smart enough to realize what a great thing you had. You were so entrenched in your horrid ways of life, finding more enjoyment in getting stoned and blowing your” paycheck” on useless paraphernalia. You took advantage of me. And it worked. You got what you wanted. Someone who loved you too much to not try and help, by giving you bus tickets, money for your phone card, inviting you over for free meals, and so much more.
Fuck you. I want to be rid of your memory so bad. But you keep popping up, because so much of who I am today is because of you. You thickened my skin and wizened my mind. You’ve helped me grow up. Too bad you never did.
blah. maybe i can refine these feelings into a poem instead of a boring whiney rant.
just writing, not correcting words or anything. so this is mine for the day, randomness included.
Im fucking empty. Of motivation, of anything to do. I sit on my bed and wait for life to happen. The house is empty too. My phone sits like a stubborn friend, unwilling to talk to me. Dinner sits almost ready on the stove but no one shows. I haven’t been outside for 5 hours. I’m supposed to go to a party, but once again my phone has ducktape over its mouth. I’m hungry but I don’t jknow what to do about it. Eat of course would be the logical solution, conclusion, w/e. but I have no energy. Im in a depressive state. Tv shows and alternate realities affect me in a way im almost ashamed to admit. Im so emotionally invested in these characters that I fall directly into what they “”” want me to fall into. Ill keep watching of course.
I just spilt oils on my desk. Or it had fell over and I just noticed now because of the smell. My room is a mess. Another thing I cant find the energy to do anything about. Guess the universe’s laws have won this time. No energy will be spent to save me from chaos.
I guess the laws of physics relate to human life as well. Energy is needed inorder to maintain order. To keep up grades, your job, relationships. But once you stop inputting energy, in accordance with the universe, things will naturally lead to the most disorganized state. I think I only have enough energy for certain things. School, only because money is a factor and that’s always a great motivator. My few friends, though that easily slips of the side of the table. Then my boyfriend, who I could never give up on. I think because he gives me energy, we seem to convert useless “other word for energy” lmao. Into some magical propellant. Maybe I’m getting high off the fumes. I don’t know. Love’s the only engine of survival, according to mr cohen, and it’s true. Through love we find the power to move forward through time and space, regardless of outside forces that sap our energy through friction, gravity, and slow us down. I am constantly being fed new fuel by my partner that I can use it in other aspects of my life. But if that well ever ran out I would have to find another source, or learn to love everything which I do, which is no easy feat.
I cry alot, more than I should, and I'm aware of it. I've been getting better, but every now and then, especially in such extraneous situations, I can't hold it in any longer. And the best thing for me is to get it out, and then on my own time I will breathe myself back to normalcy. But I guess I get self conscious in such a fragile state, that I can't handle anyone's disapproval. It just rips another wound for me to bleed from.
my friend told me last night, in alcohol fuelled praise, that you were real. that she had incredible respect for you. and i just couldn't agree. you're real only in the sense that you let us know exactly what is on your mind without bothering if it upsets us. but you don't take the time to listen to me, to consider my opinions, because everything anyone else thinks is completely illogical and a waste of time. you can't grasp that you're views aren't one size fits all. they don't work for everyone; especially not me. You can't let me make my own decisions without screening them through your radar first, and so many of them I need to fight in order for them to make it through. You disregard my efforts to be selfless and help people in need because you deem them illogical. you always put yourself first.
but the worst thing is that now you're back to drinking. You and daddy both. You had done so well in your program, and I had begun to think that things were changing. But the allure of european liquor was too much, and you got caught up in it, using the trip as an excuse to relapse. and now that we're back you haven't stopped. I'm glad I havent been around to see if any fights have arose, as they always do, thanks to your drinking. All I know is I see way too many of my dad's beer cans around the house than i'd like to. and there is always an open bottle of wine in the kitchen. you guys drink more than I do and it's sad. I just wish you could have had the willpower to stop once you got back, to realize the vacation is over and it's back to being parents, not alcoholics. I'd hoped that you would do it for me and my sister, but i guess your selfishness spreads to this too.
but I'm just as bad. I'm never going to talk to you about this. never going to tell you how i feel, because I've given up hope. every time I try to let you know you're hurting me you turn it back on me, pretty much telling me I'm a baby and I should be mindful and just not let it bother me that much. Well life doesn't work that way. you've somehow gotten away with living in your own world where you're queen and you don't have to compromise with anyone. It's because we're all scared, and tired of opening our hearts to you only having them ripped apart or ignored, and nothing gets resolved. so why even bother right?
ugh this is so unhealthy. I don't know what I'm going to do. All i can do is pour out my feelings here so i can not explode when it becomes too much to handle. i have an outlet and you never have to hear it. win win right?
we've been living together while i house sit, and it's been a fun social experiment. we work well together and our relationship is evolving. a couple days ago i used the word boyfriend and it seemed wrong. it seemed like we'd outgrown it, which i liked. we settled on partner, because that's what we are. we help each other, offer support, love and stability at all times. we are equal, above all. It's a beautiful thing. something I never even imagined I'd be experiencing.
I've told him a lot about my past relationships, and looking back with perspective they were pretty unhealthy. I was a young girl desperate for love and so happy that someone liked me that I was willing to put up with an unnecessary amount of emotional wounds. they've healed but they've left scars, to always remind me of what I went through in order to get what i truly deserved. I don't regret it, but I'm really happy that I'm no longer that young girl, instead I'm a woman who's finally found her man, and above all finally found true happiness.
Despite your 'mindfulness' classes you cant be mindful of us as we stand in the italian afternoon sun, waiting for you as you lag behind. Dragging your fert as you hold your camera to your face in a constant vigil bexause youre terrified of an opportunity for photography to pass you by. You ignore our sighs and complaints, for they taint your perfect mood, and our moods mean nothing at all. You fall behind all the time, because your pictures are worth more than our feelings. And im left reeling in this conclusion, filled with confusion why yourr being so frigid, why your will is so rigid and theres no room for compromise. Cant you see it in oyr eyes tjat you upset us so? No. Because your eye is firmly set in your view finder, finding no solutions.
locked in a car with four people, wishing i could leave.
The streets we travel are gorgeous but their beauty has no hold,
because im locked in a car with four people listening to arguments unfold.
My mothers will is rigid, convinced shes always right
and we have no legs to stand on, crushed beneath her might.
And so we sit in silence, me with my headphones in,
no point in waging war if theres no way you can win.
and it doesnt matter if you fell off that roof, because you had the strength to walk again. and its that very fact that makes me proud to call you my best friend.
'advertising has us chasing cars and clothes. working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.'I don't want to fall into their traps. All I want from life is a reliable car to take me to far away places; a reliable body, stronger not skinnier, to carry me where cars cannot; a reliable house where I may rest at the end of the day; and a reliable man to be there by my side through and through.
I just used an extended poop metaphor. That's a first.
Easier said than done.
But lets give it a whirl.
My head is fuzzy from wine, and my heart tumultuous with emotion after a phone call with my love. I had left the party early because as always, when I drink I am drawn to him, and yearned to talk to him. I called him right as I left, hoping to squeeze in as many precious minutes before sleep ensnared him. In total I was granted 11 minutes and 31 seconds, talking about normal these and that's before he was engulfed in drowsiness and had to hang up. I don't fully understand how my mind works, and I really wish I did. Then maybe I could explain why I teared up as he was telling me he was tired and the conversation was about to terminate. the tears rolled down my cheeks as we said our I love yous and our good-nights, and I managed to feign normalcy until I hung up. Its times like these when I would love to be tough skinned, less sensitive, then I wouldn't break down at the slightest emotional upheaval. It's nothing new to me. I'll find myself unstable even talking with my poetry teacher, or anyone who seems to show genuine support and kindness. I am fraught with complexity. Maybe it's because I was under exposed to any emotional hardship when I was younger; no fights or drama to toughen my skin and teach my feelings how to behave. But it's more than that. I feel so emotionally attached to my lover that when our time is cut shorter than I wanted, or when plans change and I can't see him, it drives a stake through my heart. It's one of the things that can affect me so deeply. And I haven't yet decided if it's good or bad. I've sorta just accepted it as it is.
I'm unsure of if I want to change. It would be nice to have rhino skin, but then I would miss the soft touches that life offers me. the brush of lips against skin, the tug of a breeze through my hair, the slow heat of the sun overhead.
well aint that just greaaaat. We are both trying to save up so we can make expensive repairs to scotts car or possibly buy a new one, not to mention paying security deposit on a house and save money for europe. this couldn't have come at a worse time. and for the stupidest crime. I'm sorry that me and my boyfriend are in love and he has a bed in the back seat. sorry that we had great sex and that the stupid fat po po can't get laid.
Since when is love a crime? obviously it is in a park at night, but i don't think it's worth 100$. we didn't hurt anyone, we weren't vandalizing or selling illicit substances. we were two teenagers in love at midnight in a deserted parking lot.
Goddamn coppers thinking they're better than us.
gah. rant over.
You've been bested, and you're wounded, but unlike an injured animal stalking away to preserve your dignity, you wont have it. You lash out with your pride guiding you, aiming to hurt she who has overthrown you. And what a shame. you act in bursts, letting your emotions control you. your ego is engorged and you fight blindly, seeking to make right but all you're doing is digging yourself a grave, until we're all looking down upon you in your pit, and wishing you'd stay down there.
but it was just so beautiful
I felt like i had found my second half, and the pure bliss at having him back again, was like filling a hole i never really knew i had. it was an extremely emotional and pure lovely mboment. i felt completely sure that this was the man i would spend my life with, if he left my life it would be a catastrophe. and thanks to the mushrooms i started to cry because of the overwhelming emotion. i went to apologize for my tears, but he told me not to worry, he understood. and it hit me, and i said 'right, i dont need to apologize for this.' and it was a beautiful moment of pure acceptance, feeling safe and free to be our complete selves. we were holding each other and it was hard to tell who's appendages were who because we were one complete being. and when i closed my eyes i could see weird alex grey-esque images about being perfectly connected on so many levels. It was beyond amazing.
Man, i hope we can keep topping our anniversaries and make them as memorable as ever.
Scott if you're reading this, I love you so very much :) <3
I can feel it spreading, pulsating through me.
It sits in my ribcage, chewing at my heart.
It corrupts my blood and sends it surging through tired arteries.
The Groove Shack is now empty and mangled. Filled with the debris of crashed-through ceilings and bashed down walls, broken glass from smashed windows. Most of them self inflicted wounds from those who knew the house best, who felt the need to have a part in its destruction before it was out of their hands. The house was scheduled for demolition, to make way for a more profitable abode. Knowing this, the house spiraled into disrepair, wounded by raucous parties and no motivation to clean up the next day damage. The walls were covered in crude but enjoyable drawings and spray paint tags, souvenirs of everyone who'd visited and left their mark. The last few weeks I noted how each room's old charm disintegrated slowly, each gaining unpleasant qualities. Garbage was scattered around; the sink was always full of dirty dishes; the hard wood floors were sticky and the carpeted floors were dank from spilled drinks. Near the end it was hardly liveable.
But before the Shack had descended into filth it was my favorite place to be. It was a place to waste the afternoon playing video games, smoking weed, drinking beer. It was a place to hang out with the crazy roommates and friends, and laugh at their never ending antics. It was a place for romantic homemade meals with my boyfriend. It was a place to get wasted and dance at their epic parties and a place to fall asleep in a warm bed at the end of it all. It was a place to listen to KGB practices or Taylor's solo work. It was just a great place. It stood for everything I loved; freedom, comfort, convenience, amusement and privacy when we needed it.
And now it's gone.
It's left a gaping void in me, because gone with it is my boyfriends home. He's back at his mom's, an acreage 25 kilometers out of the city. Gone are the days of going for a bike ride and ending up at his house twenty minutes later, gone are the days of a 5 minute drive home. Now seeing him means the distance eats an hour out of our time together, and with him working 5 days a week, that time is already so sparse. I suppose I took his closeness for granted. I took the whole house for granted, and now I'm feeling down. I knew the day would come when they'd have to pack up and leave, but I wasn't prepared for it. But I'll have to get used to it that's for sure.
To dream that you are in a public restroom with no stalls or that there are a lot of people around while you are trying to do your business, signifies your frustrations about getting enough privacy. You are always putting others ahead of your own needs. As a result, you are lacking a sense of personal space. Alternatively, the dream indicates that you are having difficulties letting go of old emotions. You are afraid that if you reveal these feelings, then others around you will judge and criticize you. If you dream that you are in a bathroom meant for the opposite sex, then it suggests that you are overstepping your boundaries.You have crossed the line in some situation.
There had been a time of crisis, of trauma, that left our communication breathless. And starved of oxygen, cell by cell, it began to die.
But as the heart restarted and air once again passes through us, we have escaped death.
But with the price of dead nerves, never letting us grow closer. scarred tissue stopped us from speaking as we once had. The confidations of a young daughter to her mother were lost forever, replaced with the wounded distance of an estranged teen.
and it kinda feels good.
I've had a sort of realization. That beautiful places exist, with beautiful people. And I can have my mind blown in the most amazing way. I have now tried every drug I wanted to, now it's just time to refine my highs and lows. and only the best environments will do. Windswept cliffs with wave-cut caves in which we blast pink Floyd into the natural surround sound of sedimentary sand and ocean pebbles. Forgetting time, only told by the rising of the swirling tides and the setting of the western sun in a bed of water. where nothing mattered but the basics. that we had food in our stomachs and shelter from the wind, because our hearts were full of the freedom of nature, bursting like balloons, floating through the forest trails. swiftly we ran through knotted ground, down rivers that streamed through the trees, upon trees upon trees. red dirt made from wood upon wood. cool green shadows shiver through trunks, slither over roots. ancient forests dance to the rhythm of the wind. I ran my fingers over melting bark, moss carpeted and smooth. i planted myself in crystal sands and turned my leaves toward the sun and grew to the beat of the waves dragging their fingers across the beach. i carved faces into the ground smiling up at me with gaping eyes.
I did alot more. But mostly I had the time of my life.
Less than a week of school left. Motivation is dwindling in the face of a program change, and the irrelevance of all my current credentials. Though i should keep up my gpa, maybe get a scholarship. I could do with the Jason lang. But I feel good lately. Though it’s unfortunate I’ve wasted two years and over five thousand dollars, I feel unchained with the revelation that I have the freedom to do whatever I want. I need school to be interesting, tailored to what I really want to learn. And I plan to find that perfect degree that will teach me everything I want to know. Environmental science is looking great right now, because it’s only a 3 year degree and I get to work and get paid the last two semesters, getting my foot into the door of the earth’s job sector. I just hope I can work for something great. Something where I’m outdoors and I can surround myself with the simple beauty of nature while getting paid to protect it.
You know what would be great? If I could become the next David Suzuki. I’ve been brought up on the knowledge of the natural world around me, taught to love it and cherish it. I could channel my passion into my profession, teaching the world to love as I love, to appreciate as I appreciate, this truly astounding planet of ours. To educate the masses of the simple truths, that we are all one and humans are no different, we are animals that need to re-immerse ourselves into our environment.
When I think of the poor souls who chose to work in an office downtown, it makes me sad. How people will sacrifice their sanity, their time and their happiness to slaving over a computer in fluorescent lighting so that they can make the most money possible and live out a ‘lavish’ life. I will never work an office job in my life. I would rather make minimum wage and work every day in the forests of British Columbia than make ten times that and subject myself to the hollow existence of the profiteer. And this understanding has blessed me with the assurance of a life well lived, distancing myself from the damaging mind frame that is capitalism; the religion of the mighty dollar, where money is king. We’ve put all our faith in the omnipresent economy, a fictional fabrication of man. But I have wisdom. I’ve been told by many I have the talent of seeing the bigger picture. Seeing past the obstacles that clog our everyday lives into the vastness of the world in which we live in and our place in it. I can’t get distracted by fame, seduced by profit.
I am in love with the earth and I am a faithful woman.
oh how i wish you could read minds. so i dont have to bother you with my problems, you could just know they existed and be the knight in shining armor. but i don't want to bring you down to my level. dont want to tell you what's bothering me because i feel like i'm just complaining, and im afraid it bores you. that's my biggest fear. is that my problems are so frequent they become a burden instead of an opportunity to heal. i just really need you. i remember when we first started dating i told you i never wanted to need you, but i need to be wanted. i need you to want to help. and i know you do. but there's always that fear. that unloading myself upon you will bury you and you'll be helpless, pinned like a butterfly and having to watch as i struggle on my own, because sometimes you're clueless. but that's fine. you try to and you've been getting better, but i am a complex woman. a fragile woman who is built out of sand and comes crashing down at the slightest wave. i am needy. i'm sensitive. i cry about fucking everything. and knowing that it makes you nervous makes me not want to cry, but that makes me feel bad for crying which makes me cry harder. oh woe is me, aint it? i make big deals out of everything. i know i do and i know you think i'm overreacting sometimes, and i am, but it kinda hurts to know you think so i guess. i dunno, it's hard.
I've always been that good girl. the one that no one can ever be mad at. and no one really has. i've successfully evaded many types of conflict, but all it's done is made me weak. i havent built up a tough outer shell as a defense mechanism. I'm naked and squirming and able to be wounded by the slightest scrape. i guess i need to work on that. but it's a huge process, and sometimes i just need someone to let it all out to. I've lost my best friend to long distance and you're the only one i talk to with the slightest amount of candor. so sometimes i just need you to hold me and let me cry, let me complain, let me be a big baby, because that's how i cope. after a good cry i feel great. light and clean, like a new clothes, waiting to be dirtied again. it's not a great cycle i've got going, but it's me. and if im gonna have the courage to start changing, i need you to be there every step of the way unconditionally. and i know you will be. but part of me, the vile weak and scared part, is so horribly afraid you wont.
i dont know why i wrote this. just one of those moods where it's been a horrid day and all i want to do is talk to you, but the only talking between us is you calling to say the plans have changed. i guess that was the icing on the cake, and having so much to say and no one to say it to, i just let it out all here. i wasn't planning on showing this to you, but after the counseling i figured it would be good to share as much of what's going on in my head with you. hope it doesn't scare you. sometimes i just need to write it all out and have done with it.
i love you.
and i learnt something else after writing this. you wont always be there to help me when im sad, and i need to be able to help myself. i don't need to always unload on you. i am strong, when i want to be, and i need to be self reliant. having you beside me or on the other end of the line when i'm feeling down is amazing, but that's not always going to happen. and it feels good to be able to work through my sorrow and foul moods on my own, because i don't have to bury someone beneath all my rubble in order to relieve myself of my loads.