today i saw you

and my heart broke

baby

i kinda hope you read this thing. i don't really feel like i can talk to you right now- not that you wouldn't hear, but I don't think i could speak. i feel like my tongue has been ripped from my mouth, i cant say anything when i see your face at the end of the phone, i can feel your lips through the microoptic length between us and i get breathless, formless, i melt inarticulate. i think about your body and your breath, the in out of your chest smooth against your milky skin
i am breathless formless inarticulated against the force and beauty of you. against the knowledge i confront that keeps us alone in our separate worlds on the other end of the phone distinct and distant
i am sorry i can't think or do anything else right now i can only think of me and i cannot help but be that selfish thing this moment is a crucial ladder rung
to get me up and out
i am already though i know no need to say it

fuck

i didn't break up with her because i don't want to be with her.
or: i broke up with her for reasons other than not wanting to be with her.
or: i want to be with this amazing woman that i just broke up with.

you might be asking, so why did you break up, then?
- because i really can't commit over this year. at all. i realized that i really don't want to. i have a dream that i'm chasing down, really it's not just a dream, it is a damn good reality and i don't want to have a partner of any sort when i move outta this lovely little town. i want to go and live on 500 a month and worry just about my own well being, not the well being of anyone else.
- I don't want to process all the time about the possibility/likelyhood of breaking up in a year.
- I don't want to be pushed away all the time because i'm going away. that night, as she lay next to me stock still and unresponsive i felt sad and alone, ice, far away. She said that there are parts that she's not showing me; places that she will not go. that statement made me want to die. die. die. die. die. die. die. die. I HATE being held at arm's length.
- she is sad. if i'm dictating these terms, how can she be happy? if they are not terms she likes, how can she be happy? if it's all about me getting what i need and not about her, how can she be happy? if she wants a long term relationship, and i can't do that, how can she be happy?
- the prospect of building resentment between us scares the crap outta me.

god i miss her already. thanner says that we can still be in each other's lives, that it will all be ok, that i can still.... oh fuck it. i'm not happy.

she's beautiful, isn't she?

i am freaking out

i think i did the right thing.
when does one know?

the missing has started already
i somehow can't imagine my life without you
when before i thought maybe it would be
better that way
for both of us

two people:
loving each other
on different paths
or not so different after all
we're all human, right? struggling together to more deeply understand ourselves and our places. she asked me tonite: where did i go? all the things i have told her i'm running away from. toward something, some ultimate freedom i am so afraid of losing

i can't stop thinking about movies with you, about driving in the car with you, moments shared eyes locked one place where we both can live for right now, that pretty and comfortable and pleasing place, where vulnerability and self are revealed majestically

i told her to not care about the future. but now all of the sudden i care so much about the turnout. i celebrate and look forward to my solitary adventure in a year, and i don't want to compromise that vision- i don't want that vision to change. and she wants something i don't want. i want something she doesn't want. will it come up again, and again and again, over and over and bitterness and resentment building, a year in the making...

i told laura today that i want to be single. really, i just don't want to have to process the possibility of breaking up all the time.

goddamn

what if... everything i'm doing is for nothing? What if dr. beyler is simply humoring me- what if i really don't have the talent, i've been fooling myself and convincing my self that i'm a damn big fish, a big smart fish, but i'm living in a basketball sized pond. when i'm transferred to the lake i'm dead meat. eaten immediately. more fit to chug it out in my little fish bowl, than to get transferred... out into the open water...
should i ask him? i wonder what he'd say.

ok, mom?

don't read the rest of the blog. Please. don't read any more. ok? love you.

this sinking

feeling sucks. there are things I know; and there are things that i regret, there are things that i would rather not be true. Baggage I would rather not exist. Memories that I wish would go away. There are people that haunt my conciousness, people that no longer occupy the sameness that they were for me; and yet I condemn them to their pasts, as I do myself at times. Particularly as I lay in my bed, my secondary sheets rub slight holes in my skin, as my memories do on my brain, too rough for my delicate awareness, now. Why the stabs of guilt and memory? The pangs of past that hit me when i need to sleep, when i need to write? Are you remembering me as well? For all the forgetting I have attempted, the nonchalance I affected when casting you off or trying to forget you, the bile in my belly rises and attacks me when your visage presents itself in my brain. I am sorry. I do miss you, many of you- and I think of you, too often right now for my own good.

this happens every time. love reminds me of past love, desire of past transgressions. I am becoming jaded as I attempt to never repeat my past mistakes.

i wrote this a long time ago, not sure exactly how long:

as much as i ever loved you that fullness still lives in my heart cold & hot all at the same time & when i take a moment to look i see your pretty face looking back because you are caught too
I have no idea for how long though
our circles will not coincide
forever

could it be

that my love for you speaks
contradicting me and my idealism

i want you to be happy
and get what you need
someone who can give you
things that scare me

why waste your time?
i'm too unstable
impractical
wrong
i'm too much
i love you too much
to hurt you later
it might be easier now
even if i have to die a little

i want to give you everything
especially now
when i should be trying
practicality

...

my eyes

can hardly open
anymore
a long day
long hours
spent
thinking of you

your soft skin
against my cheek
your smell fills my senses
even though...
you're not here

can i clutch tight
to these small tokens
things left
forgotten
in my room

hold them
feeling their
you-ness

nothing like
your soft skin
against my cheek
it is a stale scent
although welcome
plenty.

sigh

i haven't felt this way in a long time. baby, you have been a shining light in my life- i won't ever take you for granted. whatever happens, don't forget me, don't forget what we've done. i love you.

it is horrible

to see folks that I went to high school with on friendster/myspace, or really anywhere on the internet. y'know why? because high school was painfully embarrassing. And I was a fucked up drug addict in high school. I was probably absolutely horrible to folks and I might not remember any of it. And then I see folks that did messed up shit to me, and I wanna find them and beat the shit out of them. or hug them and tell them its ok. at least something emotional and restorative.

Hey everyone, I'm sorry I was a fucked up addict. I'm not anymore. I put my life back together, I'm healing myself- and i'm scared shitless to talk to most of you. so there we go.

Jordan, I'm sorry. Charlotte, you were awfully mean to me, but I'm sure I deserved some of it. I remember sitting in Jordan's living room, probably coming down or something as melodramatic, and crying about how it felt like no one cared, no one loved me. James looked at me and said, well maybe that's because no one does. I stopped crying.

i just wanted to feel ok, and drugs did that for me. for a little while. Just trying to get by. What did the other kids without mamas do? What did the other kids with overworked parents do? I dunno. This is what i did. Snorted and smoked meth. ick.

i just remembered

mitch. what a memory. we really loved each other, loved hanging out with each other, seeing each other, he loved me. he was the first person to really love me, i think. he was the wrong person, yes, and i´m glad we´re not even friends, but he taught me an awful lot. thanks, mitch. i know i never told you, but i want you to know. i´m putting it out there to the universe, and maybe you´ll be able to hear me.
wow did we ever client on each other, though. woah.

hello again

i think i realized that when i hang out with reed i feel like shit, because he holds me at arms length. i think that sucks. i think i am not going to hang out with him for a while. and i am going to be totally ok with that- i am going to put good, loving effort into some other folks for a little while. yeh. i have lots of other deep and meaningful relationships, and i can wait for reed to come back with some vulnerability. i hope he's not mad that i slammed the car door... i always get scared that someones mad. fuckit.
i like l. she's rad. i'm super into hanging out with her.

jeez

i am perhaps simply not used to being rejected. sigh. it does kinda blow. but then there are folks who want to hang out with/date me, that i am currently rejecting. is it all some fucked up painful circle where we just kick each other in the face? what the fuck.
hmmph.

i really

don't know. it seems like life is this funny little journey, and sometimes things are hard- super fucking crazy- or else it feels that way, so what are you supposed to do? constantly feel horrible? or just decide that things aren't all that bad?
y'know, it seems like maybe things feel bad even when they're good. in my life right now things are generally going well, lots of recognition for my hard work at school, i have a steady income, i have a great home, i enjoy my work, but for some reason it feels like i should be looking hard for love, like i need to be in love. i think that i have been in love regularly over the last five or so years. before mitch i was always in a multitude of relationships. after high school, i never really needed to be in a relationship, have a boyfriend, etc, partly perhaps because drugs did the deed enough for me.
Regardless, this seems to be a pattern i need to break. i have lots of great friends that i love, and that love me. i don't need to be in a primary relationship. it is nice to have friends whom i fuck- i like being able to have sex occasionally- although perhaps that is something else i should give up. you'd think it was fucking lent or something, with all this giving up...

oh god

this is why i hate smoking weed. i remember all the things about myself that i hate- and then i sit there in creative quandry, wanting to do something pretty and instead just sitting there.

am i looking for something too profound in life? or is my life profound in ways that i can't see? i want to feel challenged and fulfilled, am i simply not challenging nor fulfilling myself? once upon a time in my life i had occasional bouts of severe-ness, periods of time where everything felt so ridiculously too much that i would freak out. they happened very infrequently. now, they seem to be happening weekly.

what the fuck am i supposed to be doing here? i am not making connections with people lately, and it feels like maybe i don't need to be, i have too much else to do- WHICH IS WHY I WANT TO QUIT IT ALL. fuck it. am i living my life? what the hell is living? is it partying and dancing and freaking out, all things that i don't know how to do without alcohol? is it camping and hiking and meditating? is it sewing and talking to folks? is it writing bad blog entries? who the fuck sees this shit anyway?

i don't know what the hell i want. am i some fucking poser who pretends all the fucking time? it feels like i'm pretending all the time. i wonder if other ppl feel like their life is a fucking play, mine is.

it seems like

i wrote some other entries that are no longer here. i dunno.

why are people so damn squirrely? why, when you make yourself available to people, do they seem to sometimes shrink from it like you're offering something terrible?

i have to tell you a secret. i am so afraid that this past weekend in nc was some sort of giant booty call, and that once he got what he needed from me (sex) then it was over or something. oh god, it feels terrible. i keep telling myself that he loves me, he is one of my oldest friends, that of course he cares, but i keep remembering how awkward i felt around his friends, that i could never be as there as they were, that somehow he had much better connections with these men, i couldn't keep up with them, all my fears were realized- i walked into a den of men, another oak street, another trap, where i wasn't good enough to make eye contact with or funny enough to entertain folks or interesting/intelligent enough to make engaging conversation. jeezus am i scared that he has seen that part of me i thought that i had extinguished, that part of me that i thought i had proved didn't exist, some deep inadequate aspect lacking in humanity. i can't imagine my life without him, but what am i supposed to do if we don't have any connection other than a sexual one? what if all of it is gone? am i supposed to just keep going on- and let myself be reduced to this thing? is this all some horrible distress? am i just feeling all that shit that went down with us as kids? no responses to my call/text messages, etc. what the hell am i? i kinda want to just die. i want to run away. i want anything but this rejection, anyone else could reject the hell out of me, anyone but him. i know that's not true, but i have this deep tie to him that i love, and i remember that look on his face as i walked toward the airport doors and it was almost like "you're gonna get on that plane, right?" a skeptical look. god, i wonder how much i'm reading into this.

i don't know if i can do this r thing. it is so fucking hard. it is ripping my heart out. i am an empty fucking chest, open ribs, bleeding all over the ground. i can't get all "sure, we could fall in love again" and then deal with him running fast and hard away from me. it will fucking kill me. i love him too much. i'm gonna hide in my room, forever.

am i condemned to run in circles with these people forever?

the sinking feeling

i miss j. i wonder if i miss j, or if i miss what i wanted to have with j. damn. i was so in the middle of getting ready to be his girlfriend, like, for real. i had just decided to commit to him- and thought we had a mutual agreement to commit, and what the fuck, three days later he runs away. i was wrong; men don’t do the freak out after three weeks, they do it any damn time the commitment fear hits them hard. and you become the bad guy. or girl. or whatever. god, then he starts dating someone right away, it was like he needed to be with someone immediately, and it wasn’t me that he wanted to be with, what the fuck with all of the “i wanna be with you” and commitment-speak in the beginning, what the fuck with all of the super-wanting-to-hang-out crap, like all the time, jeez. i feel kinda used and abused. but then i remember his long frame stalking down the hallway toward me, his herringbone jacket perfect on his frame, his hair framing his face, and i miss the crap out of him.

i wonder if he was trying to hump the bartender at his fave bar the whole time, if he was like waiting for her to dump her boyfriend, or was just maintaining his little romance for when the commitment fear hit him and he could jump to the next new love. it's easier to be in new love than maintain a relationship. and possibly less scary. i understand that. i even feel that.

i wonder if he misses me at all. it sucks to sit and perhaps be the only one missing the relationship, but you know what, fuck it all. i don’t know what to say. i don’t know why he ran away, why he decided to judge me, i remember the look in his eye and the tone in his voice- who are you?- and i didn’t know what to say. i was wearing sweatpants, is that it? i looked tired and scared, was that it? i am SOO tired of wondering whether or not i was woman enough for men, that’s what i love about reed, that its not about me being grrly or femme or whatever but that i am sexy no matter what my gender presentation is, and with david too, i know that when i am strong and careful and even when i look like a big old dyke then i am still a woman, deserving love and care from men. i am bisexual. i am a butchy femme queer, and i want to love men and women, and i don’t want to have to be the typical female role for you to love me. And, I want to be dominated in bed sometimes. This does not contradict my butchy femme presentation. yeh, motherfuckers. what.

oh yeah- this is good-

that man i talked about below- the blind date man, the one who talked too much? the sweet one i met again at j's bday. he and my friend l went on a date, an un-drunk date, and he talked nonstop for almost 5 hours. heheh. that's kinda funny. i guess i won't be dating him at all.

talking about dating, i am feeling *so* unattracted to sex w/men right now. i don't want to even go there. there are two that i am sleeping with, three, kind of, but i can't help but think that really, what i want right now, is a woman. a girlfriend, a fun one.

i am getting a little bit

nervous. about going. especially after finding that my ticket was not reserved for the days that i had reported to n- i am particularly embarrassed. and soon i will be in an environment that might be a little rough for me to take sans crutch, aka, alcohol or something similar. i want to stick to this decision. i have decided, already, to do it. enough bitching and moaning about being afraid of it.

oh fuck, who am i? i am not the person i was six months ago, two years ago, five years ago. i am different, overwhelmingly so. hmmph. perhaps i'm overreacting. i tend to do that when i smoke.

did i tell you that i was/am a drug addict? Recovering, of course, after a long bout with methamphetamine. I wasn't the sort of dope addict you normally run across, not until the end, i had a boyfriend who had no idea for over 6 months. he went back to the east coast never knowing. i was good, thin, but not too thin, i ate food all the time, had *great* grades in high school, later maintained a *great* job, had lovers and lots of fun. but i was high the whole time. and now i'm *attempting* some sort of period of time away from alcohol. i have become someone very different, i have my eye on something, my future, i guess. i want something for myself, something rich and diverse and challenging.