Confusion is a base state

I almost wish that my emotions didn’t run so hot.
That they didn’t rush like tsunami. Seemingly dry and nonexistent as the waters pull back, until they rush forward, overwhelming my heart. It seems like I only find those unavailable to me as people who make my heart burst like fire. But it’s not true. It’s just that those who are unavailable are often the only ones who show any interest in me. At least in a way that I recognize as interest. I can be obtuse in this regard.

I don’t know. I dislike not knowing. I love to know everything. How else will I see true if I cannot see all?

I wish I knew. Whatever paths led where. Even in general. Because I can’t trust my judgment. My judgment leads me to love and to breaking.

You know…I didn’t pick Morgan. She picked me.
It makes me wonder. Because every time I trust my judgment, while they don’t destroy me in harder ways, I’m still devastated. When it ends. When it fails.

I don’t know the way forward.

Freedom found

I worry. I worry that whatever I am. This creature, this person I have chosen to be. This person I have actively defined by my choices.
I worry that when you finally see me, all that structure and facade will fall away and you’ll be left with what I am.

And all of that is a lie. It’s a lie that my fear tells my heart because it needs to maintain its control. But it is a lie.

I have constructed myself but it was like chipping away at a hunk of marble. I didn’t build a structure on top of a structure. There is no facade. There is just this false feeling of being an imposter. Because if I’m all that I am and then I fail it will be because I was not enough. Or because what I am is not what is desired. And that is my fear. Not that something I’ve done or not done will be the cause of rejection but that despite it all. Despite who I am, I am somehow not what is wanted.

That’s the fear. It’s not that I am an imposter and will be found out. It’s that I’m NOT and despite it all will still be found wanting. And I can’t do anything about that. I can be me. I can show up and put all the tools and processes and everything I am and if it’s still not enough, then we’re just not meant to be. Not meant to click and choose each other.

And seeing that now, I wonder at what I was afraid of? Afraid that I’d be rejected by someone who won’t, who can’t see me? Can’t value me?

There might be pain because I will have invested emotionally but if you can’t love who I am, why should I allow that to hurt me. It should instead free me. And it does

Fuck, I talk too much

There is a feeling of falling apart without you. But I’ll never say that. I won’t hold you emotionally hostage. I refuse to be another person that inflicts their pain on you.

This feeling of dissolution without you, of dying without you will never be spoken from my lips to reach your ears. I’m a monster. But not that kind.

And here’s the thing, it’s like I can feel people I’m with flinching from something I’m not saying. I am open about what I’m feeling, because how are you to know if I say nothing. But I never will take it to that place where you might feel responsible for my actions. I don’t want that.

I just want to be heard and understood. And I don’t see how that is possible without honesty about everything.

Thoughts on reciprocity and love

There is nothing I desire more than to have the love I am, the love I send out be returned to me by those I love. I suppose that’s where my failure lays. That I need that love to be returned to me.

It’s counter intuitive. When we love, we want, we desire, that love to be returned to us. But that is placing a boundary on love. It is saying that I will only love if I gain from doing so. And that is not love. That is calculation, that is want.

Or perhaps I am painting myself as someone to be held to a different standard because there are none who return my love. And it is easier to say that that is a fault of humanity instead of my fault. That those my heart love are always the ones least likely to love me back.

Or maybe the truth, TRUTH, lays somewhere in between. Maybe I need to be a bit more forgiving of my own needs, my own desires.

Or maybe I just need someone to hold me and tell me it will be OK.

Perhaps I should accept the fragility of my heart and just accept that as long as I am honest in my love, as long as those I love know that They Are Loved, I have done all that I can.

Why ghost?

If I allow myself to, I will wallow in pain and hope until my world turns corrupt and only pain can bring me back around. 2 times in one year. Ghosted.

I am guessing that I seem like I would be an asshole or cause problems if I were just told the truth. Not the case. Honor demands that I treat honesty with respect. Even if I hate it. Sounds like bullshit, right? I’ve built up a lifetime of being in control. When I am with someone, I give up some of that control to let them in. Into my heart.

I write poetry about them. In these instances, I say goodnight and good morning. I say what’s in my heart. Always. And I warn, I always want a step further than people are generally willing to give. Tell me so I know where the line is.

Instead of telling me, they just leave. Disappear. Stop responding. That I don’t understand. Just let me know. Tell me. Telling me your boundaries, your hard limits are not going to phase me. Communication, please. Tell me something is a hard limit and I will back off. How can leaving be better? I left one time. One time I ghosted out. It is one of my biggest regrets. I had to get in touch with her, and did.

Ghosting out damaged me. Damaged my view of my self. I will never do it again. How can people ghost over and over? Do others have so little value to them? Or do they value their own worth so little?

I’m just rambling, trying to pick up the pieces. Trying to understand.


Between the time we last spoke and the time we next speak are the scariest moments. Because in that time I can’t know what is happening. I know you take care of yourself and from all evidence seem to be a badass. But the relief I feel when I next hear from you is palpable. Like a weight that had slowly settled on my shoulders and heart becomes lifted and thus I am buoyant.

Do other people feel that way? Is that a weird thing to think? I’ve gotten to a point where what I feel is so close to the surface that nothing feels abnormal. Heightened yes but not abnormal and it seems no one talks about the fear.

Or is it that it is normal to drown in so much fear that perceiving one fear from another impossible so it becomes this low level hum that is with you but you don’t know the why’s of it. I, of course, like that thought because if that’s the case then that makes what I do exceptional. But it seems like that is pure arrogance.

I’m the type of guy who sees someone they love sleeping and must watch for a minute to confirm to themselves that their love still breathes. I can’t just pass by. I must confirm it for myself. Sometimes, I will touch someone who I love just to confirm that they are real. Because I can’t quite believe it. I think that is an odd thought. But is it? Or is it that I admit that is why, at least one reason why, I do it?