Thoughts

The only words that want to be written 

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There is this moment. When the person you love most slips beyond the grasp of this mortal world. The whole world turns to static. And you react on automatic. And you keep moving like that until you are shocked awake. And sometimes it takes more than one. But eventually you emerge. And all that pain. All that rage and broken shard memories pierces every piece of you. You will spend time. Plucking the shards out. Ripping them out. Until the only thing left is the rage. If you’re lucky, if you can call it luck, you find a way to use the rage. And once it’s gone, you’re empty. And you fill that burned out ashes that you call a life with whatever you can. And, if you’re like me, you burn in your secrets.

But maybe you find a way through. And maybe you start to feel and live again. And this time, this time you will live out loud. You will love and you will speak the truth and you will be the best person you can be. And this time, maybe….this time…maybe this time you’ll be in time. Maybe this time you’ll say the right words. Maybe this time, you’ll be enough. Maybe….

Choices unmade

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I watched you walk away a hundred times in my mind. Steeling myself to the inevitable moment when you were gone for good. You said you were leaving. Moving on from this place of broken promises and going to a brighter future. And though I was sad, I understood. You were tied to another and what we have is but ephemeral kisses of the might have been. Had things been different. Had you chosen another Path, one we’d walk together.
But now, you’ve chosen to remain amidst reassurance that things will be different. But they won’t be. Liars lie. Emotional abusers abuse. That won’t change. Unless you’ve chosen paths I’ve advocated and you won’t because they are all dark alleys you wouldn’t travel, nor even loose me down.

So, you’ll stay, so close and ever distant. Because staying is easier than going. Because comfortable is easier than more and scary.

I’ve let you go. But my heart, foolish thing, only thinks that now at least, there may be a chance. But I know, it’s not to be. Much as I wish it otherwise. Love is bastard. Always complicated. Always just beyond reach.

Much as I rail against it…

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I have hope.
I’ve actually been very lucky this last year. I’ve had some amazing opportunities and, though they didn’t work out, they have made me realize that I am someone who others value and want to spend time with. I’ve spent a good portion of my life feeling like a failure. That by my failure to see the future, I don’t deserve to have a future. It’s been a long road from that to now. And I’m really a better person for that journey. I’ve learned how to work through and cope with major heartbreak. I have found love for some and with some amazing people who I hope will be in my life as I journey forward. I’m still looking for my romantic partner or partners and know that there is a chance when I thought it would never be possible.

How oblivion plays, Extended

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Sometimes everything I’ve ever lost comes crashing down and I’m left with this hard physical pain in my heart. It’s not a heart attack. My heart is literally breaking. I wake up from a dead sleep crying with this overwhelming feeling that someone I love is gone and I frantically check to make sure that they are alive and then I realize that it’s her. Morgan. My Morrigan. She’s who is gone. It’s like losing her all over again, but there’s a calming effect too. One that I think I should feel guilty about but only because I don’t. Because, if the feeling is my Morgan being dead, that means it’s not some awful premonition of someone I love, who was just alive, now being dead.

It’s possible it’s an anxiety attack. I tend to only get them when I sleep. The trigger is generally some feeling I’ve been dealing with in the waking world come spilling out past all my defenses.

This happens all the time. I get to the point where I find hope to be pointless. Something gives me my hope back only to shortly thereafter crush it like a bug on a windshield. Like the universe is one massive simulation and I drew the short straw. I don’t know why the moment that I am free and happy something beautiful happens, something beautiful that always falters and leaves me broken in its wake.

I heal faster these days. I learn. I progress. But, I still wish someone would stay. Would embrace me as I embrace them.

Seeing with soft eyes and open heart

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If it were a year ago, I would be without reservation. I would be full ahead, all in, how to get from here to there hardcore planning and presentation. It is the unfortunate case that the me of a year ago is gone. He had a bit more faith, a bit more naivete(if that term can be applied to someone as old hat as I).
Truthfully, I miss him. He would have stormed the gates of heaven for the hint of what now may be.

That’s not to say that I’m not overwhelmingly intrigued and even hopeful. Just that now, I’m cautious. People have burned me on hoping before. And while I don’t think that will happen here, it may not work out. That would be disappointing but little would change, I think.

I’m cautiously optimistic. I think we have a good shot. But slowly and coming into each other’s lives, not the headlong rush that has been so destructive in the past. In a way, I’m just talking myself into slow. Because the gods know, I’m much more comfortable with jumping.

This as a possibility I would never have guessed. Amazing. The world is still a beautiful surprise.

Laughable progress

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The simple fact is that I’m in as good of a place as I’ve been in a long while and still so distant from what I want. This year has been one long fall. A relationship I thought was strong faltered and burned. And proved that I had no idea what was happening. One seemed to promise something then kept pulling back like a retreating army. All gained ground evaporated and just the faint wisps of what was remains. One burned in darkness, blazed in transformative light then faded from vision only to emerge transformed and out of reach. One started like rapid firing synapse only to lapse into the occasional spark. One consumed with baleful malevolence until, at last, the final line was crossed and it settles into unquiet quiescence. One spoke like murmur until, when the time came, a quiet shake of the head and no. That seems like a great many to me but maybe not for others. And maybe I do couch my happiness too often in my romantic hopes. But I’ve given up on hoping. It hurts too much. To think, maybe and work towards it, only to have it ripped away by things I can’t change or effect. Left with little but blood and pain and memory
I know, this shits depressing but it can be useful to take stock. 

Realization catalyst

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Life is a interesting place. In the last week I’ve been forced to confront some things. Basically, I have never considered myself to be attractive. If someone is with me I assume it is because of my personality or my art or my dominance. I assume that my physicality enters into it lightly. I’m tall. I’m dark. Two out of three right?

But then someone called me fucking beautiful. Those were her words. I didn’t trust them. I don’t trust compliments, mostly. So I asked someone who would know. A good friend who used to be more than that. I asked her and she said yeah, I can say that you are fucking beautiful and she got into specifics. Keeping in mind I told her it was in reference to me physically not emotionally, intellectually, or artistically. She got specific and I went… Oh.

Huh. I don’t think of myself in those terms. I’ve felt a lot of rejection based on the physical. And I internalized it. So I never concentrated on it. I’ve worked on my emotions and my art and expanded my experience.

And I’ve been told I have a good voice and I thought that’s just how my recorded voice sounds. But I asked people who know me in person and apparently, soothing and darkly heavy was the conclusion. So now I have to, if I trust these opinions, and I do. I have to incorporate that truth into my self image. And it’s honestly a bit freeing.

Now, I’m not perfect so it’s not like knowing there are very attractive people who find me attractive is going to go to my head but it’s nice to know.

A lifetime of thinking one way gets blown out of the water in one short week. Life, it’s a funny old thing.

Need is not a dirty word

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When I say I need you, I don’t mean I need you to pick up my clothes. I don’t mean I need you to take care of me. I don’t mean I need you to make me dinner.

When I say I need you, I mean your presence in my life makes the sun shine a bit brighter. I mean your presence in my life makes my days pass easier and not quicker. I mean your presence in my life drives my passion and forces my creativity to new avenues and choices.

My need is a thing of desire and joy and change. I need because wanting is lukewarm and nothing in the context of love should be anything but the fire burning.

I need comfort and safety but I need it not as a person or place to retreat to but to strike out from. To experience the vastness of life and still know that together we are safe because with each other there is a place to be without that shifting chaos.

I need you to feed me oxygen and fire in equal measure as I feed you earth and water. Or let us not be bound by needs but feed each other golden apples plucked from an immortal tree and know that as one desires the other will provide.

I need you to disagree with me and fight me because I believe I’m right but I’m often wrong and I trust you to give me the truth. But I won’t believe it. And we’ll make up and a few months later, I’ll say “You were right.”

I need you to be vulnerable with me and let me heal the hurts that I can and hold you together while you heal the ones I can’t reach. I need you to know my insecurities and know that despite them I am strong and will not fail you when it counts.

Need is not a dirty word. It is passion coupled to desire. Put want back where it belongs. I want a salad. I want to drive. I want to have a comfortable chair.

I don’t need those things. I need you.

Fall is good thinking weather

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I hate going slow. In a relationship, I should clarify. I know I should learn to deal with it and I’ve really gotten much better about it. And I should clarify again that I consider any interaction that involves deep conversation a relationship. In the sense of growing levels of interconnectivity as the interactions spiderweb and one becomes enmeshed. I like the enmeshing portion, it’s what tells me that we, whether it be a friend relationship or a romantic relationship that this might last. If I’m important enough to make the acquaintance of friends or family then the relationship seems more stable to me. And stability and clarity is important to me. Better to start exploring the possible from a stable framework. A friend told me that she expected that from me. That I would want to be certain in my speech and make sure that I am well understood because I am a Dominant. I suppose I never thought of that. Because when you swim in the sea, you don’t really think about the water. But she’s right. If we understand each other we can be comfortable. If we are comfortable, we can explore and be the best version of ourselves easier.
But still, I hate going slow. Even though I know it’s a more stable path. I’ve lost too many people to sudden things. Not just Morgan, but other people too. That makes me feel rushed. But I need to take a breathe and slow down. Very few people feel comfortable with fast, and if they do, many see fast as temporary.

Confusion is perfectly normal

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I am a creature full of mourning for a relationship that is and was and could have been and may yet still be. If you find that confusing, all I can say is welcome to my life. This happens more often than not. Perhaps I am an addiction that is almost but not quite enough or maybe when I see a person I am connected to I have little regard for consequence and instead throw my heart to the crucible and dare them to join me.

It’s hard to see someone you love make a choice that takes them away. To a better place almost assuredly but still it’s hard to see them go and the heart crushes under the weight of too familiar pain.

So why do I do this time and again? Honestly, I know of no other way to be. I love. I fall in love. I see. I choose. I wait. I break. It is as if these are what I am and while I am many things beside, at the core, love is who I am.