Thoughts

Emotional shotgun: October edition

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I dislike the advice to stop looking for love. Work on your self and it will find you.
Bullshit.

I have been working on my self, consciously, since I was 12. I have a good grasp on who I am and what I want. I’ve had and lost love. I find connection, in one case profound connection, with many people. And they are with someone else, or they pick me up then drop me like a rock they’ve grown bored with, or that’s not what they want/I’m not what they want. And on and on. And platitudes are useless. They are what you say when you have nothing real to say.

I’m just drained and tired of finding and loving and losing. I’m tired of being lonely. Of not being with, even just holding the hand of any of the people I love.

And I wish I could say tomorrow will be better or different but, really, will it? I’m sick of looking to tomorrow. Waiting for the right time is worthless. There is no right time. There is only now. But again and again I brave the depths and each time I’m crushed by them.

And this all just so complicated. To love people who have left, to love people you can’t be with, to love people you can speak with but never touch, to love people who don’t want romantic love with you. It’s all just this endless ball of scream.

Past, Present, and Future

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I am very used to referring to Morgan as the love of my life. Even my phone has seen that phrase so often, it predicts that phrasing. I think I need to put that aside. I think I need to say she was my first true love. Because, I am still alive. And it is not fair to anyone I love in the future to feel like they contend with a memory. Because they don’t. I love the people I love for what they are. I don’t compare them to her. I, frankly, don’t understand why I would. They are not her. How could I, in honesty, compare them? If I love you, it’s because I see something in you that is worth the pain, the price I always pay for that love. And I hope, that if you, whomever you are, give me a chance, I hope you will love me as I love you. But, as the song goes, I would never say I love you dear, just to hear you say it back.

What my mind knows, my heart will not accept

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You get what you get. You don’t get to dictate what someone will give you, no matter how much you need it. Though, if you are brave enough, you should ask. You never know what someone is willing to do if you don’t ask. Not everyone can see the signs you are putting out into the world.

Editing

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I do all of my edits while I’m writing. Then I read through after I have put it up and maybe correct some spelling or grammar. Rarely do I change word choice. If I am putting it on Amazon, then I do one more edit for spacing and such along with another read through. But I don’t end up changing much. For those who have read my stories are they horrible for want of editing? Feedback is appreciated.

Just some things to think about

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There isn’t a thing in this world I would not do for the people I love. I know all too well how easy it is to lose them. The world is not forgiving. It takes and takes and you are considered fortunate to be the last person in your age group to be left standing. A dubious honor to be sure.

The older I get the more prized those that I love become, not because I love less people but because I find my love grows. It builds on itself. It spills out and touches more people than I ever imagined I could love. More people who I feel a kinship to. More people who I respect.

For all of that, someone who sees me as vital to their life eludes me. I find something to love in so many but I still feel alone. I think that is what galls me. I can’t be unique. There has to be someone searching as hard for me as I do for them, right?

Maybe that is the hardest lesson. No matter how much we want, how much we need, how much we strive, there is always going to be something we cannot achieve, cannot find, cannot help.

This doesn’t mean that we don’t endeavor. It just means that we need to accept that there is a chance that we will fail. And that’s OK too

Give and take

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There is nothing I can give you
And nothing I can take
A shadow long and burning
A moment ere I wake

But I am lost to dreaming
I am lost, it’s true
The dream is of my making
Of building more to you

I am softly waking
A moment I’m confused
Your warmth has long fled
This heart we built for two

On waking I am empty
A space too big to fill

Your heart is slightly broken
But I have seen much worse
I will patch you up
Be a Latticework

You will heal
And when you leave
I will be undone
but a little fuller too

I will hold the hope that wounded birds
Made whole and now to fly
Will remember that broken man
And visit time to time

And secret kept in heart of hearts
That one will wish to stay
The foolish hope that brings,
And holds the reckless
tears at bay

Emotional intimacy

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In a very immediate way, physical intimacy is an outgrowth of emotional intimacy. I know that is backwards of how it usually works. And there was a time when I tried to embrace that. But it never really clicked for me.

It’s a high then a crash to nothing. Fun in the moment, but we(writers/poets) don’t live in the moment. We live in the vastness of our minds. Exploring our lives and emotions. Coming to the surface to give this found secret to the world.

If I am emotionally connected, then there is a moment in my lovers eyes, an echo of that discovery, of that perfect moment of vulnerability and hope that takes me beyond the shores of physical pleasure. To a place of the mind. Taking them with me into my heart.

Maybe that is scary. To think that way. Or be thought of that way. Fear, this kind of fear, has always been an indication that I am doing something right.

Afraid , emotional and vulnerable. Thinks too much, cares too much. Broken and mending. Practiced and fumbling.

I am all of these things. But, if I love you, it will always be so. And though we may be parted, I will always carry you, my love for you, in my heart.

Hard limit discussion

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A hard limit is a line I won’t cross.  I won’t take without the consent of the taken.  Once given, I won’t betray my word.  I defend those I consider mine. 

I don’t like to be humiliated or insulted.  If I want something, I say what I want.  If the answer is no, that’s OK but I don’t beg. I don’t play the try harder that’s not enough game.  If something is needed or lacking, I expect to be asked for it or told in what way it is lacking. 

The games I play have a start and an end.  Which I will declare.  If I don’t say it is a game then it isn’t. 

Being stupid (maybe)

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I think I read too much into a like or a comment. I read what is written and fall a bit in love with their words. I read their work and see an amazing person through their words. As a active writer and poet it is a real problem. Is what I am seeing real, is the pattern one with greater meaning? Or am I seeing things because I want to see them? I’ve gotten burned twice. One I walked into with eyes wide open knowing it would never work but wanting it more than sense.

The other I thought was real. Was something that might be something we were both looking for. The world stepped in, circumstances built and it ended, badly for me. I have no idea how she felt about it. Since, she walked away, blocked me out, seemingly without a second thought.

Now, I’m back in it. Seeing things that, maybe, aren’t true. But wanting it, and sort of dreading it at the same time. I have a bad track record.

Rambling thoughts on love 

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It’s as simple or as complicated as we make it. Loving another is always going to be messy. But it is always worth it. Even when it hurts. Even when it feels like your heart has been ripped out. It is always worth it. To cast yourself open into the yawning abyss, hoping their love will catch you. That your love, together, will halt the fall. I don’t know any other way to do it. Not and have it not take years. Ask any of my friends. For all that I am open, I’m a hard man to get to know. My friendships take years to form. And I love every one of my friends. And from most, I would try for a intimate relationship with, if that is what they wanted. I feel I’m rambling now. The point is that love, while painful, is always worth the pain. People create walls around their selves. Trying to keep out every possible hurt. But that keeps out most of everything. I speak from experience. I shut myself off. Turned off all the things that were painful and felt nothing. Blocked behind walls, behind doors, inside a bubble. Trapping myself inside, to protect from the pain.

It didn’t work. All the pain, the sorrow, all of it just built and built until it crushed through my walls. Battered them to pieces. There is no wall high enough or thick enough, no defense built well enough that it cannot be breached. The only choice becomes to deal with it.

Again, I seem to have lost the thread. Love is always worth the time, the pain. I have never been more happy than when expressing love. Never been more at peace than when I am holding someone I love in my arms.