so things are actually good.
really good.
i don't feel pressured to be anything other than i am for the first time in i can't say how long.
it's freeing and quite fantastic.
the best part is that things are good. stable.
not amazing, not terrible. i need to learn to live with a happy medium.
and i am.
sigh
i'm finding it hard to not act as crazy as i would like to.
i'm good at separating myself from emotional decisions when they become uncomfortable or too draining.
i'm good at cutting emotional ties with people who take advantage of my feelings.
at least these are the things i say to myself to keep me from bursting into hysterics.
the truth is, i don't fucking know what i'm good at.
i don't know what i'm good at when it comes to work, my personal life, relationships...i just feel so lost and so stunted.
i'm upset because he hasn't called me.
i'm also relieved that he hasn't called me- i know that my resolutions are only resolutions until the circumstances change, and as much as i know what i am doing is right- the truth is, i'm sad.
i'm longing to not feel ashamed of my feelings. i always feel embarrassed for opening up to people and telling them how i feel- if only because it's persistently forced out of me and then invalidated.
i guess what i'm saying is- the pattern is clear.
boy meets d
boy becomes hopelessly enamoured with d
boy pursues d, and against her better judgement, captures the affections of d
things are great
things get heavy
boy pushes d to express how d feels
d expresses how she feels about boy
boy runs away screaming
i made the same analysis the last time around, determined to never let it happen again.
but then i fell on my ass- and it happened again.
i don't get what i am doing wrong.
If we each had our characters to play
We would both be the same
Flawless
Impeccably presented
encased in glass-like plastic
On the top of a shelf
Collecting dust.
We would walk into walls with our delight
Attention only on each other
And of the curiosity of life
Everything would be perfect
One can’t love perfection
I sure as hell don’t
I love you
I love us
I love what we are and have the potential to be
Never flawless
Somewhat chipped at the corners
And slightly scratched
And used.
Not a speck of dust- but covered in fingerprints
And smudges
And tears
And real-live feelings.
Maybe one day we’ll need some duct tape to hold it all together
And some super glue
And twine
Because we’ll never have to sell it on eBay
No one would buy it
It’s for us.
And only us.
We’ll see the beauty.
I do.
heart of gold
sometimes i intensely fear myself.
i find myself in a situation- quite often- where i am pushing people.
i don't mean to- but it can't be that everyone feels pushed and that i am not doing anything to create that kind of a situation. it has to be something i am doing.
i try so hard to be unselfish. too hard, maybe. i think sometimes i want so badly to be a better, more loving, more unselfish person than i am.
i don't think i am as good a person as i would like to be- or need to be.
that scares me.
that's how
i'm known. without being a "good person" what the fuck am i?
who the fuck am i?
am i even capable of feeling real love? i think i am. i feel it in my bones- but it could just be illusory- like my heart of gold.
so if i don't really know who i am- how could anyone really love me or have real feelings about me without knowing who i am?
this is going to be an introspective week.
oh, you
"dream on", those nights, i told myself
to get over these silly ideals
i would never find that passion, i thought
there's no way it could be for real
those boys i thought could turn me on
could barely find the switch
i tried to feel it every time
but not one could reach this itch
you may have found it
i'm scratching hard
so hard
i'm scared
i'll bleed
i'll try,
i'll try
to stop myself
you may need to pull down my sleeve
i can try to feel it on my skin
and sometimes when you touch me-
i do
but it's not out here
it's gotten in me somehow
when i say "i love you"
it's because, i do.
and when i say "trust me"
it's because it's true.
i'll scratch harder
and bleed for you
if it means that you'll forget
the other girls who lied
the other girls who cried
the ones who had you played
the ones who never stayed
i knew them all myself
but of the boyish kind
who charmed their way inside
who thought they'd read my mind
until- what did i find?
love that is all the cliches-
defined.
Trust
Close your eyes
Lean back
And fall
I’ll catch you in my arms
It’s scary- that I know
It’s hard and painful
And forces you to let go
Of it all
But don’t let go of me
I mean that
I’m already falling
Head first
Catch me
Please?
And maybe you’ll let me sing you to sleep
And fall asleep before me
For a change
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night
I stroke your face and smile
You remind me of why one can’t hold back
Why it’s okay to feel
Everything
