Dogs barking, can’t sleep without umbrella

Sitting awake meaning to sleep
But I just sit here eyes closed
Thinking about tomorrow
Anticipation insomnia
Trepidation too
But mostly I can’t sleep when I have things to say
Nonsense things
Pointless things
Cute things
Sexy things
Quiet things
Music things
Just things
It all pents up
Flowing out in this nervous energy
Keeps me awake
Keeps my mind churning
Over and over
Not exactly the best trait
To sometimes feel like you’re walking on spiky rocks
Needing to talk
And all that comes out is
“hey, šŸ˜, good morning!”
Weirdo
Goofy Sir
Serious and happy
This is what I mean when I say
“I’m too much”
Too many things
Stupid things like
“I like you.” said too much
Words bubble out of my effervescent heart
Bypassing thought
It’s no wonder nothing lasts
Who could stand up to the onslaught of my feelings
And now we reach the heart of it
Fear
An anxiety attack that builds slowly
Reading, games, TV, kitties
Anything to not think
To not word vomit my heart out
Yet
That’s all that works
Other than being held

Train Whistle

So I have two simultaneous tracks of thoughts running right now and they go like this
Shouts, “Fuck!”

But with different inflections
On the one hand the job I thought I had is vanishing faster than sand in a windstorm. I might as well be standing on the tarmac as it goes flying by while the pilot Shouts, “No really, I have nothing to hide.” Which, as we all know is code for, I have things to hide. And the more it’s repeated, the more we know that the thing you’re hiding is deep and dark.

And on the other hand, I’m excited and anticipatory but apprehensive too. Because, I know it’ll go OK but I also know that I tend to go silent when I’m nervous and when there’s nothing to lose, I’m on top of the world but then I start thinking, and that churn begins. That overthinking and the litany of failure and all my friends saying that’s great but I don’t want you to get hurt and I smile and say I understand when I just want to say too late.

But
It’ll be fine right?
My life isn’t a pointless series of days where people I love leave me and I’m way too much for anyone, everyone else. My dad’s fine and it’s probably not cancer and even though he’s gotten more conservative than sane Republicans, I’m not ready to lose him.

Did I say 2 tracks?
I must have lost count.

Living in the fire swamp

Too languid for hoping
Where silence and heartbeat meet
In anxious beating and eyes burning
Slow dance for dreaming
Soft kiss for wanting
All for the taking

But time presses on
Pulling and stumbling
For want of your touch
I’m drunken and slurring
Calls of oblivion
Sink

All decisions fled
In the blurring lines
Between having and missed chances
Between smiles and cut flower laughter
Between you
And I

Much as I rail against it…

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.

Slow motion fall

There is a euphoria to posting something that is both personal and fundamentally true. It carries you for a time. Like walking after setting down a great weight you’ve been holding on to. And just like that, it wears off. Pretty soon, you feel like yourself again.

It may be this time of year. I just can’t seem to reach back beyond that night. I try to think of the night we met or any of the hundreds of other moments that we were happy in. But it all just morphs into me holding her. Waiting for the doctor to arrive. Her shallow breathing.

I feel empty. For the last few years I’ve been, at least, talking to someone romantically. That takes the edge off. Like there is hope. But this year, it’s all just ashes.

I find myself crying. And have for months now. I can’t seem to get out of this. Mostly, in the day, I’m OK. But night brings the silence and I can’t handle it.