love pull your sore ribs in

I'm choosing to look at yesterday as an enormous blip on the radar. I don't know what she thinks she wants from me-- I also don't want to know.

Why, suddenly, she's lavishing me with sweet nothings and calling just to say hi... and then engaging me in a text-a-thon wherein I invariably over-shared and let my vulnerability blaze through... I'm not sure. I can't even tell if it's manipulation or another moment of her realizing what we lost, etc etc.

I wish I was stronger and therefore cared much, much less about the possibility of her sharing her body with someone(s) else. I also wish I hadn't slipped and brought that up last night.

Maybe it's just the human need to know you are wanted, that people have feelings for you. Because letting go is something I am awful at... and even I feel better knowing she still loves me. But I can't shake the feeling that whatever positive progress we made this past week-- I may have blown it last night by sharing so honestly what I think about and how I try to avoid the things that make me think about those things.

Because now, of course, she hasn't responded. And I'm not going to reach out.

where i come from, where i'm going

from my old livejournal : 08.30.04
I never realized how disgustingly hard I am on myself until it was recently brought to my attention by upwards of 4 people. I hate it too, and I know it's getting old, hearing me constantly beat myself up/down. I will try to break myself of it. Truth is, I'm pretty sick of hearing myself talk like that. ... Throwing up my hands.. throwing it in. I'm serious this time. I need a major attitude adjustment. I refuse to be so hard on myself, and I don't want to run my mouth anymore. I want to be better, eventually be good.



Five years later, and I think I'm actually harder on myself.

08.26.04
Why do girls like me? I'm a mess! I was talking with the Cynic last night and listening to myself made me want to cringe. And then later, talking to KH, I seriously wanted to slit my wrists right there. I mean, sure, I've done a significant amount of healing (and realizing what all I "went through" over the past year or so), but there are some heavy, ugly things lingering in the background. I want to be good. I really do. And I'm still working on getting there. I guess it's normal to have moments where you realize how much it fucking sucks, and how bad it can still hurt. But I keep plowing ahead because I know it's not all grey matter... there is goodness, clarity. And I do deserve it. I deserve someone who will treat me well and tolerate my sarcasm and dorkiness, maybe even embrace it. I don't need that person to drop out of the sky tomorrow, but I would like her to appear sometime. Maybe soon.



I had a lot of feelings in August 2004. And the parallels- as far as the necessary healing- to where I am now are obscene. Have I really not made any progress in five years? No... no, I definitely did. But then I got dismantled/I stayed and allowed it to happen. And now I get to heal again. Is that what life is? Falling apart and building yourself back up? Ad infinitum?

08.19.04
I realized then that I'm tired of fighting with and against myself. All actions from this point on might seem unusual for me, a bit uncharacteristic if you will, but I'm sick of holding everything down. What do I have to lose?


I can always, always think of something to lose. But if I don't risk anything, I'll never get anywhere. I just don't think that right now, I have anything to risk.

& I just realized (again) that I date fractured women. Women who need fixing, need to be taken care of. I am so fucking sick of this that it makes me want to punch myself [but as I was punched 3 times Friday night by my idiot friend, I'll abstain from the self-violence]. All of the beauty I've given to others: I want it back. I want it given to me- by someone other than myself.

farewell... to the old me

but there's a catch-- i can't bring myself to see
who i am, and i sense that's because
i'm not entirely sure who i am
these days, especially compared to who i've been
for the last almost three years. and i've come into my own
more than ever, but i've been thwarted and suffocated
beneath layers of lust-fed love (lust that was
flotsam on her stripped floorboards: the first to go
overboard when there was no room left to breathe).
i've been misled and tangled. and she said she lost herself
but she never had herself. i did.
and i haven't relocated the lost fragments yet.

but this is all part of the process and there is space to fall
to realign and trip and repose. i am with no one but myself.
no one's rules but my own. no mind to challenge but my own,
no muscles to flex but the ones i've lately neglected. and the thing is:
i don't want anyone else's anything in my everything. i just want
me.

so the search begins for the roots
of who i am. and strength supercedes the will to look back,
a sinewed stretch forward instead. this is what
i have: mind, body, soul.
education: completed and continuing.
career: a job, multiple certificates, summers off, opportunities elsewhere.
family: solid. supportive. inspiring. fucking funny.
friends: waxy but tangible. some closer, some better,
some here just for distraction and entertainment.
car & home. solitude. space to live.
words to craft, words to refine.
my health.
my will and tenacity. my inherant stubborn nature.
my easy smile and (over)active mind.
and i have my own possibility: endless, unmapped, uncharted, infinite.

i basked in beautiful noise last night. i'd marry the former in a
heartbeat... the curved beauty, incredible voice, obvious and endearing
slightly self-deprecating humor. and she carries a slightly surreal
resemblance to the woman who has blindly carried the pulse of my heart
for close to three years.

there are moments, too few for my liking, where i realize that
i am exactly where i am supposed to be. unattached. healing.
deeply introspective (perhaps too much at times).
rolling in intensity. fumbling to rediscover myself.
aware. awake. shaken, stirred, overflowing.
real. selfish. spiked with shards of happiness
mixed with stripes of anger/disbelief/sadness/hurt.
recovering. breathing. inhale, exhale, close your eyes.
unravelling neatly and retying with each step and signal.

i'll get where i need to be. it may not be where i think i should go
but it will be where i'm supposed to be, and when i'm supposed
to be there.
that's all i know.

new

I am still waiting for the realization that it's a new year, and time for me to accept my healing.

remember this

Three Christmases. Two victimized by the relationship, one tormented by its aftermath. Three Christmases burdended by unnecessary tears. Three should-be-happy seasons crushed under the blow of mania and push and pull, a plauging uncertainty and continued hope for the better: the better that showed its head every few weeks but never stayed for more than two consecutive days. It's not your fault, and it's not mine. It's just who you are. I simply wish you would have warned me earlier, or never saw my name, or that I could have been stronger and less tolerant, that I would have understand the weight of what you couldn't allow our love to be. And I wish I'd known earlier the art of walking away.

I bought a card for myself once, a Quotable, because I like reminders that keep me centered. You thought this was silly. But you didn't use that word. You probably said stupid, or laughed and rolled your eyes, but not in a "Oh, I love you and you're cute but weird" kind of way, but something far less endearing. Or maybe this was early in our relationship and you did think it was stupid but cute. I can't remember. It doesn't matter.

One of my friends bought me this for Christmas. It's the quote from the card that I bought for myself however long ago. And when she gave it to me, she didn't know I'd bought the card (and currently don't know where it is, when, of course, I absolutely need to remind myself of those quoted thoughts). But she knew it was something I needed to remember.

What I'm realizing now, in this once-strong, suddenly-and-obnoxiously-weakened state of the break-up, is that you couldn't get out of your head for long enough to really know me. I think you tried, but you failed. I admire your attempt, but I think you could have tried harder. I think you could have done a lot of things differently between you and me, and I'm slowly coming to accept the fact that you didn't, you wouldn't, you won't, and that's how it's supposed to be. I don't wish you any harm, but I don't yet wish you happiness because you crawled into my life with the allure of connection and desire, neither of which could sustain us, but once in, you shrieked apart my reason and my happiness. It was always about you. I get that, now. It was never about me. My needs were nonexistent. I bent into yet-discovered yoga poses to try to make us work, but I failed. I wasn't meant to succeed. Not with you.

So I'm tired of the hurt and the anger, tired of your unjustified reactions and skewed perceptions. I shouldn't expect anything different since that's how it always was: no steady ground. A rock one day, a roll the next, a plateau silver-lining into a brick wall the very next. I want you to understand this: you did this. You did it. I was not the perfect girlfriend, but I never pushed you away with the force and frequency that you did me. Remember that.

truth can get away from us / and all over town

Survival techniques: Think less, move more, DREAM BIG.

I think I've fallen into a trap of disillusionment, where I happily stumble through Thought Patterns that aren't going to get me anywhere because, yeah, pretty sure I gave up on self-fulfilling prophecies. Because the manifestation of my mind's whims and snowstorms arrives when I least expect it so that eliminates the fun factor of predicting my own destiny. Or whatever.

Met GC this past weekend for a necessary catch up session. I also just had a random bloody nose and have blood on my thumbnail, but ok. The talk was good, except GC thinks I have to start pushing forward in a direction that I'm moderately terrified to move into. "Moderately terrified" meaning that of course I want to go there, but A) I don't know how to start, and B) the threat of rejection/problems/complications/reality/mutual feelings scares me. In a good way. Good fear, healthy fear.

I gave my ex a ringtone this morning because as much as I'd like to give her MUTE for a ringtone, I'm just not there yet, which drives me a little crazy, but we all go through these things differently. So I at least want to know if I should bother looking at my Blackberry to see if it's a call I might want to answer. It's usually not. I realized that the only calls I consistently answer are from my mom. I should give my mom a ringtone and put everyone else on MUTE.

Life is pretty much freaking me out: possibility, conflict, the Great Perhaps, whatever love may be, and if I'll ever find out, etc etc. This is the first time, post any break-up, that I've felt myself feel fear about finding someone else. I'm sure it has to do with age, the length of my latest relationship, and the things that were said in that relationship. Words are cheap, though. I'm learning that. Finally, but it's contradictory for me, as a "writer." The concrete image of a word can be cheap, but the velocity behind it is never without cost.

I have to go wash my bloody thumbnail. And wrap presents. And get on with my life.

sound mechanics

So much of who I am and what I've experienced is built around music.

Last week, she said she'd look them up, I said that's ridiculous how about I make you a cd of their music, she said absolutely and i'll find something for you. So I did. And she is.

Tonight, I'm caught up in not wanting to go to sleep. I'm stuck in the fluctuation of semi-flirtation and the collapsing of my still aching heart. I've been sifting thru my iTunes, pulling together a cd for A.M. and tossing songs into a playlist called 1_. I have a feeling I'll be making Her another cd, since this last one was business. & "business" has changed... which at first I was so not happy about, but now, I almost fully believe it's better this way.

I talked to my ex tonight. First time in, oh, a week. As much as I've been trying to avoid/cut off communication with her, she keeps worming in for various reasons. Wait, I lied. I talked to her earlier this week, and it was not pleasant. Tonight was only better in the sense that we weren't yelling at each other. Tonight made me cry. It was a closing of a door, her doing, despite her saying that she loves me very much and she's sorry for everything that's happened, and that she'll never love anyone like she loved me, and there's no one else, and she doesn't want to give her heart to anyone else. I'm not stupid; I know what happens when people move on. She caught me off guard with all of this, and she's Leaving, she said. For an indefinite period of time, to an indefinite place. If we were still together, she said, This Wouldn't Be Happening. This was a rift in our relationship; I never understood this part of her life. I still don't, but I don't have to try anymore. I cried tonight, though, because it was a bigger goodbye than we've ever had previously. And I'm going back and forth between believing her, and wondering if she did this/said this to get me to move on because she's moving on. I suspect the former, actually. It hurt. The whole thing hurt. And even if it is the latter, I really don't want to know, just as she said that she wouldn't write to me because she doesn't want to hear about me moving on.

I don't know what to make of that. Now I really can't wait to leave tomorrow. I have a weekend chock full of people who love me and who can set my head back where it's supposed to be.

All this, and She still swarms over me. Things have only intensified, in a sense, over the past month. She keeps me on my toes in a healthy way, which is a nice change. I'd swear she's flirting with me, but there is the gray area between "straight" women and gay women: sometimes the hets think flirting is safe. I don't necessarily think that She has absolutely no idea that I'm totally into her, but I doubt she comprehends the extent (and length) of my ... into-ness. She doesn't need to know as far as I'm concerned. I'm cool with this friends thing. The flirting, though? I'm not the only person who sees it. And that makes me wonder.

The songs I've thrown into 1_ are some of my favorites, songs I always try to pass onto whomever comes into my life. I've noticed myself being careful, though, because as much as I would love to stack this compilation with subliminal messages, I know better [looking at circumstances, mainly hers, as mine are open aside from my healing heart] than to test my limits like that. Cool & calm. Constant reminder.

I was going somewhere else with this, but I'm tired and lost it.

tipping (edited.)

you have no idea,
but i fucking adore you.
this little competitive thing? only increases the desire.
i was told today that
i light up when i talk about you,
that my eyes get wide, my smile glows.
i'd be lying if i said i didn't know
what that means.
but-- i don't know how you've managed to get so far
under my skin. i thought i had boundaries, i thought
i still had walls. you're in (and i don't know how)
but you don't know (and i don't know how).

catch and fall (edited.)

It's a new month. I desperately need a new perspective.

/ I see nothing but wonderful things here; intellectual equal, anyone?
/ no clear sign of interest other than prolonged stares, especially those of the "You're not talking directly to me, but I'm going to watch you very carefully while you do talk, or listen, or do other things unrelated to me."

:: But, in truth-- I miss her. I don't want to miss her. I don't want to love her any longer, and I would much prefer to NOT feel like I'm regressing as far as this stages of grieving bullshit-mess goes, but truth: I wanted to spend today lying in my bed, crying. Because I somehow have tears left over from Saturday night's salt-drenched outpouring. In a king-sized bed, 5-star hotel, nonetheless. Because of text messages. Mixed signals. Uncertainty. A clever trick. Because goodbye has still been muted beneath outlying context of We Still Love, and We Still Want, but Neither of Us is Going to Outright Give In. Or Make a Move. (I don't know that there's a move to make.)


:: And yet, the entire time we were together, I suffered the crush of intrigue. Outside of us. I must have known better than to focus all of my energy on a suffering craft.

:: The hurt can end now. I'm ready to break free. Into what, onto whom, I don't know, but that doesn't matter. I reach a certain point, post break-up, where I'm able to distract myself with someone else, but I'm not there yet. I don't know when I'll be there. I figure it has to happen eventually.