Sometimes I want to do nothing but monopolize someone’s time. I don’t have anything to say really or event to go to or anything. I just want all of them, as much as I can handle and then a little bit more.
That makes me feel like a burden. Like, what the fuck? Where do I get off taking up all their time? They have a life, they have things to do. Moreover they probably don’t feel the same, but I won’t say anything. Because I feel like I don’t deserve it. And I’m a little afraid that they will shut me down.
Even more that they won’t but it’ll just be the once and I can’t stomach just one time when I feel like this.
I don’t know. I’d like to blame it on my 3 hours of sleep but I know that just sharpens the edges. It doesn’t make me feel anything that I wouldn’t normally feel.
In the last week my left eyelid has begun twitching. This has happened before and I thought it was just lack of sleep. But I’ve been sleeping ok. So it’s probably stress.
So what am I stressed about?
I’m not in a relationship. A few friends and maybe’s but nothing solid.
My work is no different than it’s been for 6 months.
So what’s changed?
I think, uncertainty. I’m good with chaos. I can handle it and even excel in it but extend that out for months and add in some emotional shocks and I think we have the recipe for copious stress.
My usual outlets aren’t cutting it. So the stress is starting to take a physical toll in the form of eyes twitches and fatigue.
There’s little to be done beyond what I’m doing. I won’t take medication except in dire need, so that’s out. I guess more meditation is in order. More something.
I don’t know what is possible though. I mean, I want what I always do. But how realistic is that? I mean no one is going to pop out of the ether and say hey, wanna hang out and maybe more?
I don’t know. Maybe I’m alone because I need to process. Or maybe I just don’t know.
But this eye twitch is really getting on my nerves
Knees slightly bent
On my left side
Pillow underneath left arm
Neck on top of another pillow
Cradling the crook
Right arm behind me
Perched atop more pillows
Left arm outstretched
Pointing towards you
Wearing normal clothes
In case of fire
I won’t be caught unawares
No socks my concession to comfort
Though I am comfortable
Single light bulb on
Illuminating my bedroom
Not out of fear
But because it’s easier to act if you can see them coming
While we’re talking sight
I wear my glasses to sleep
Only taking them off when I shower
Facing the single entry to my room
Blade never far from me
Live a certain way for long enough and some things never leave you
Breathing in and out
Telling myself that tomorrow doesn’t matter
Only now and now is sleep time
You can see how well that’s working
Since I’m writing this
Longing to hold her in my arms
Snuggled up under the blanket she gave me
Because this is as close as possible
The air conditioner is on because
Here it’s hot and I can’t bring myself to put it away yet
I was caffeine free and sleep deprived
Thinking please let me out of this day alive
Driving in and out of consciousness
Figuring, doesn’t matter life’s pretty much worthless
Been driving these dreams for eternity
The last thing you want is all of me
you say you can handle me
Thinking his darkness will wash it away
Finding bright thoughts that don’t fade with the day
A different man when he’s happy.
But I lurk beneath the surface
Like a trapdoor alligator
Waiting to catch him alone
He wanders cut off from the person who became as sunshine
Fending against demons in the dark
Sleep is a gift given to him by joy
Relearning how to sleep when it stops being easy
Leaves me in this state
Hoping that I’ll live long enough to be together
Hoping that I’ll die before I wake
Dreams grander than the life I’m living
Memories and glimpses
Waking to the loss
And the attempt to not sleep again
Not for lack of dreams
But for the transition
Into the quiet
Of my own breathing
Facing a day of alone
Without the haze
Of caffeine free and sleep deprived
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.
It’s easiest to say that we fell to a comfortable sleep. But it’s just the barest hint of the truth.
The truth is, tired as I was, I spent a good long while thinking before I slipped into the vale of sleep. Sara was facing away, buttocks pressed against me. Her soft blonde hair a bit frizzy and stirring in the eddies of the air conditioner. The muscled form of her all safe and safety. And snoring like a baby bear, soft and rumbely.
Sara would never come out and say it but she is giving me time to sort my feelings. Of the two of us she is the more practical whereas I am the more ruthless. She would say that I should just give it time. That if we push, we’ll cause problems. She’s not wrong. But I am almost constitutionally incapable of not pushing, so she gives me the gift of time.
I had planned this whole elaborate honeymoon scene. Rose petals and whips, sensation play and edge. And I just can’t work my head around it not being a true honeymoon. But laying here, with Tara curled into me, I can’t help but admit the truth. I could adapt the scene, more black leather than the specially bought white, cinnamon instead of vanilla. But I can’t seem to let it go. I had my heart set, I believed that Tara would say yes and, I’m not a fool, I can see that she’d run or break and undo everything we’ve done if I push. And I don’t know how to not push.
The fear says let it slide. Get up. Make dinner. Do some chores. Watch a movie. Just be for awhile. And it’s terribly tempting. But I’ve neglected Sara trying to be primal for Tara. She deserves better from me. And how do I reinforce that we value Tara without ignoring her while I serve Sara’s needs. This is the dilemma. If it were just Sara and I, I would tie her up and use gentle touches coupled with slaps of the riding crop as foreplay. And so an idea forms. Of how to incorporate all of us together into the scene. All serving our individual purposes.
A slow smile breaks across my face. Tension pours out of me and I cuddle down next to Tara. And reaching my right arm behind me, cup my hand on the smooth soft of my wife’s thigh. Somehow, this always soothes me and I drop off to sleep.
I have this reoccurring feeling that I sleep with someone in my arms. Their head resting on my chest, hearing the beating of my heart. We’re home. Together. We are each other’s home.
Maybe it’s just a dream. Maybe it’s something else. It’s one of the few things that comfort my sad heart. I hope, if they are real, it comforts them too.
This need to write wells up, but to what avail? This distance keeps us apart or is distance a convenience of the heart?
I’d be there tomorrow, but how far can I push before you run away? I don’t know.
I’m certain only of my self and don’t know what goes on when my eyes close. When you are alone with your thoughts. When I would be holding you.
eyes closed heavy
pulled down from consciousness
holding against the night
blood and bone
The scent of you
And the promise of another night
Is it OK
that I think of
the only way
I can fall asleep