Thoughts

Goddess of My heart

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I know there is something going on. I know there are things you’ve held back. Personal, possibly important things. I know it’s easier to just walk away. I know. I implore you. Take the harder road. Tell me the personal things, tell me the fears. Tell me what makes you feel like walking is the best choice. I can’t fix what I don’t know about. I can’t reassure you if I don’t know what is wrong. Talk to me. I’m here. My heart and mind are here for you. I’ve been through things, seen and experienced things. Let me be here for you. Let me help or just be here for you. Please, talk to me.

Maybe it was a error or mistake or something else. But please talk to me. My email is pelgris@gmail.com. Please contact me

Hope

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Hope there is a reason.  Hope I’ll find out.  Hope it’s a mistake. Hope it’s anything but what my brain says it is. Hope to hear from her. I’m burning alive, breaking apart; shattering reforming and shattering again and again, minute by minute and gods help me I’m listening to Bella Morte.

Reason I couldn’t sleep #11

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The wolf statue that stands guard over the raven feather the wind gave me was facing the wrong direction and the feather was positioned wrong as well.  Didn’t realize until this morning.  

One of the ocd people in my house must have seen the books on that shelf leaning over and used the wolf like a bookend.  Nope, nope nope. 

Inner demons

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Just a liar dressed in the clothes of a writer. Just a fraud dressed up as successful. A fool dressed as a genius. A romantic idiot dressed as the jaded master. As plagued by doubts as I am certainties. Both convinced of what I am and cowering in the corner of my mind, convinced I’m a fraud. I could turn this around, make it a rejection of these anxiety filled thoughts. But would that be the lie? What if all I am, all I’ve done, is meaningless. What if these dark whispers are the truth and my confidence the lie? I’ve been wrong before, fundamentally wrong. What if these aren’t demons? What if my brain is just demanding I wake up?

Emotional shotgun – In love edition

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I want more time, more words, more connection, more touches, more teeth, more nails, more kisses, more sex, more sharing, more, more, more.

It makes me seem greedy or needy. It makes me seem mad. It makes me seem unreasonable. I seem, seem, seem.

What I’m really asking is will you stay? Are you mine? Am I yours? I’m here for the distance but my insecurities drive people away. I’m looking for yes. I’m looking for, of course. I know it is needy and I hate feeling this way. I hate needing that reassurance. I’m so used to standing alone but I crave to stand together. With you it feels so present, so now and I can’t seem to be, just be without a word, just a word. And I hate asking and I hate being this mess. I want to be a pillar of strength at your side. But I need that reassurance not because it’s new but because I don’t take it for granted. And that’s odd and that’s weird. But it’s me. And I’m spinning out not from depression but from stress. I want to make it all better but I don’t have the tools or the words and I keep fumbling about looking for the right words and I just want to hold you and not need to say anything

My always

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I tell my loves and lovers always. That I will always be honest. Always be faithful. Always be there. Always keep their desires in mind. Always listen, if not understand. Always support their choices, provided those choices hurt none. Always love them. Always, always, always.

Its true and not true. I will always. Unless you walk away, no longer want me. In that circumstance, my always drifts away like a dream apparating into consciousness. Leaving me with the only always you can be certain of. I will always love you. Love is not finite. It grows to encompass all.

I feel it needs to be said, that the person I am with now. The person I love now. She is different from all prior loves. In most I am holding some piece of myself back. Some bit I don’t feel safe to share. With my Goddess of my Heart, she could have all of me. Everything I am. Life doesn’t wait for it to be simple or easy. I’ve learned that. And when it seems easy, it becomes difficult almost out of spite. We can overcome it. I’ve made my choice. I make it again and again. My choice is you. Again and again.

I’m still broken, just in different ways

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Is it bad that I don’t expect those that I love to love me back? That the mere thought, “who could love the monster I am” can bring me to tears instantly? Because of all the beautiful things I believe, it is this one dark seed that sits in my heart. This is the last piece of heartache I work on. I say this now because it scares me to say it. How can this part of me, this broken self be revealed and still be worth loving. He writes through the tears. But it’s a rule. If I betray my own rules, how can I be trusted to not do so again.

 

Survey results 

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So with 2 votes it looks like the people have spoken and I will finish Pel and Sara.  However I will also be doing the next “book” of Split Sky called Torn Asunder. So on Monday, Wednesday, Friday will be Torn Asunder and on Sunday will be the installment of Pel and Sara.  If you want more Pel and Sara you can read the Prequel: Ballroom or purchase Home:A Pel and Sara Story on Amazon. 

Wine or whiskey 

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If hope were wine then I’d be drunk half the time, but despair is just as kind as wine but with whiskey instead. 

 Caught betwixt hope and despair, in desire, only for you. 

I drink deeply of water and watch my twin demons of hope and despair stagger about. But time is passing without touch or word, and while my mind sits above the fray and understands the why, my heart sits near, in ache and missing you. My heart it yearns, it needs, it desires. Always moving closer to you. My head wants the same but knows why that is not happening, yet.

Balancing

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The worst feeling in the world is not knowing, it is unfortunately also the best. When we don’t know we can choose to believe that everything is OK, that the reason we don’t know is something funny or slightly disappointing like their phone is dead or some other small thing.

But there is the flip side, that we don’t know because someone, most grievously, the person we are waiting to hear from has chosen to not tell us. But, it could be worse. Perhaps they are restrained from telling or perhaps they are dead.

Not knowing, due to my nature, is always balanced on the razors edge. The edge where both the worst and best are possible. That until we check the box, we can’t know the state of the cat.

Worse in this case because not knowing where, I cannot even begin to find out. Its like finding a specific needle in a drawer full of needles.