what is it about you?
what did i like?
days ago, i had a dream, not a nightmare, that i was with you again, in what was morally the worst possible way - a parody of a clandestine encounter.
it was night time, right after work. in real life, i've been growing lonely with no network around me, and mournful that i was not allowed to see you anymore... even if it was for a good reason.
i was waiting for you. you rang the doorbell and i ran over, opening the door to embrace you, give you a kiss on the lips once again.
i had wanted it so badly i could cry.
we fumbled to close the door behind us as we continued to kiss. the house was warm; i had the heat on. we got warmer and warmer. we tumbled into bed.
i wanted it. i enjoyed it.
but in my dreams, i watched out for the sound of his car coming home.
it was bad. in my dreams, i knew it was bad, but i kept on going because something in me had craved it for weeks, months - and i couldn't bear the thought of it turning to years.
i missed you, despite everything.
so i betrayed him.
and in my dreams, i was so happy... when the sound of his footsteps could be heard from the bedroom window, i thought "this is it," and that it was ok. whatever the fallout, because i wanted you.
you, and your heat, and your touch, and your passion, and your strength - around my neck, in my mouth, inside me - i missed being filled like that and its stupid but i've never been a good person at heart.
i just control myself. and i know i am not a good person. i'm reminded of it every time i yearn for you; i'm reminded of it every time i control myself so unhappily.
in my dreams, we came to a climax, and i fell asleep feeling like this was alright.
when i woke up, i wanted to cry. because it wasn't real.
but also because i enjoyed it, and i shouldn't have, and logically this was for the better because you were not right for me.
right?
Wednesday, November 20, 2019
Thursday, October 31, 2019
on loneliness and want
i am the type of person who tends to fall apart when she's alone, partly because i get lost in my thoughts, and mostly because those thoughts are horrible.
i want to feel and be touched and be satisfied. but why is it that i yearn for so much for another body? what was it about that body that makes me want to cry? i want and i want and i want, but i resist because i want too much.
i know that.
i know its too much to want him to pull my hair. i know its too much to want him to slam me onto the floor. i know its too much to want him to kiss me and lick me and slap me and take me because that should be over and done with and i am not allowed.
i resisted once and i'll resist again, however unhappily.
but i want him.
again,
and again,
and again.
i want to feel and be touched and be satisfied. but why is it that i yearn for so much for another body? what was it about that body that makes me want to cry? i want and i want and i want, but i resist because i want too much.
i know that.
i know its too much to want him to pull my hair. i know its too much to want him to slam me onto the floor. i know its too much to want him to kiss me and lick me and slap me and take me because that should be over and done with and i am not allowed.
i resisted once and i'll resist again, however unhappily.
but i want him.
again,
and again,
and again.
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
some setbacks
last night, after my breakthrough, i received a new stab to the heart motivating me to move even more.
it's a combination of things both past and present–culminating in a way that made me want to fight, then die, then fight again for my happiness and my sanity.
i can't give up. but it hurts to go on.
long story short, my current partner attempted to play-wrestle me and didn't stop when i asked, inviting on a slew of flashbacks and despair from a previous relationship. i had a breakdown, i did my best to express myself and recover temporarily to save face, then immediately headed to bed and proceeded to cry myself quietly to sleep.
if there was ever any contest for losers, i'd win it, i'm sure.
in any case, the thought process that followed was at once both concerning and comforting. concerning in the sense that it's messed up every angle you look at it, and comforting in the sense that the option is there, just in case i want to ruin my life again for the sake of it.
last year, i escaped a physically and emotionally abusive relationship and found a crutch in someone else. i had moved to a new city and wasn't ready for another commitment.
but i was lonely, and vulnerable. and i had no friends there.
i love my friends to the moon and back, but sometimes people are too busy for FaceTime, and sometimes (most of the time) i am too ashamed and embarrassed to reveal the full details of my trauma, for fear of concerning or disappointing them again. i had already made dumb decisions before, and i wanted to show that i could at least bear some of it on my own as i should.
with that loneliness and vulnerability, i thought that i just needed a distraction. i met E2, and he was looking for the same... and so a strange camaraderie developed, peppered with intense intimacy and words of comfort in the dark.
i would come upset and silent for nothing he had done, and to my surprise every time, he would ask what was wrong and told me that he cared. at the time, i really think he meant it. i knew we didn't love each other but in my heart of hearts i believed that we were friends.
i know friends don't fuck each other, but we're both messed up people.
i alluded to, then confided to him my past despairs. no one can help me but myself, so even if he wasn't entirely "helpful" after the revelations, the tenderness he did give me helped save me from outright killing myself. at the time, my demonic ex was still actively searching for a way back into my life, so having E2 there as a protective figure, in my mind was more than enough.
he was someone that i could concern but not disappoint, and i needed that badly.
when my ex finally disappeared for good, i broke things off peacefully with E2 and found my current partner... and then in the merry-go-round of plot twists that is my life, E2 decided to assault me.
then he apologized, asking for forgiveness. we haven't spoken since on orders of my current partner, which i know is reasonable given what had transpired.
but last night, when my partner induced these flashbacks and offered little to no support or apology on his own incentive, i went to bed crying and wished that i could confide in E2 again.
its messed up because this was a man that helped me emotionally through an abusive relationship, then assaulted me while in my current relationship...
then in my current relationship, this was a man that triggered emotions from an abusive relationship and offered only some muttered sorries with eyes glued to the television.
it made me remember an recents instance in which we exchanged reasons for why we loved each other. to him, i gave the reasons as his humor, his patience, and his honesty. to me, he gave the reason as my "cute" face–noting that this was his favorite feature.
the only feature?
so when i am who i am, trauma and all, i am no longer desirable or deserving of comfort?
it hurts my heart and i have no one to turn to. in the end i am all by myself.
but that makes me want to fight for more...
even if i fail, i swear i'll go down fighting. i have a respectable career, apparently pleasant looks, and friends i can finally break to if i choose to swallow my pride on these matters... so even though i still feel like a loser, i know i'm not completely disadvantaged.
in that sense, i can continue to fight for my own happiness and i will. life will always be difficult and heartbreaking, but the biggest battle always happens on my own mental plains.
i don't need a therapist and i can do this by myself. i know i can.
last night, despite everything, i stayed sober. i woke up early in the morning, i put on exercise clothes and ran for 40 minutes, then came back home to shower, get dressed, and make lunch for work.
so even though im crying as i type this on my lunch break... i'm going to stay, complete all my projects, come home, continue taking care of myself, and hope that tomorrow is a little brighter and better.
everything will be okay.
it's a combination of things both past and present–culminating in a way that made me want to fight, then die, then fight again for my happiness and my sanity.
i can't give up. but it hurts to go on.
long story short, my current partner attempted to play-wrestle me and didn't stop when i asked, inviting on a slew of flashbacks and despair from a previous relationship. i had a breakdown, i did my best to express myself and recover temporarily to save face, then immediately headed to bed and proceeded to cry myself quietly to sleep.
if there was ever any contest for losers, i'd win it, i'm sure.
in any case, the thought process that followed was at once both concerning and comforting. concerning in the sense that it's messed up every angle you look at it, and comforting in the sense that the option is there, just in case i want to ruin my life again for the sake of it.
last year, i escaped a physically and emotionally abusive relationship and found a crutch in someone else. i had moved to a new city and wasn't ready for another commitment.
but i was lonely, and vulnerable. and i had no friends there.
i love my friends to the moon and back, but sometimes people are too busy for FaceTime, and sometimes (most of the time) i am too ashamed and embarrassed to reveal the full details of my trauma, for fear of concerning or disappointing them again. i had already made dumb decisions before, and i wanted to show that i could at least bear some of it on my own as i should.
with that loneliness and vulnerability, i thought that i just needed a distraction. i met E2, and he was looking for the same... and so a strange camaraderie developed, peppered with intense intimacy and words of comfort in the dark.
i would come upset and silent for nothing he had done, and to my surprise every time, he would ask what was wrong and told me that he cared. at the time, i really think he meant it. i knew we didn't love each other but in my heart of hearts i believed that we were friends.
i know friends don't fuck each other, but we're both messed up people.
i alluded to, then confided to him my past despairs. no one can help me but myself, so even if he wasn't entirely "helpful" after the revelations, the tenderness he did give me helped save me from outright killing myself. at the time, my demonic ex was still actively searching for a way back into my life, so having E2 there as a protective figure, in my mind was more than enough.
he was someone that i could concern but not disappoint, and i needed that badly.
when my ex finally disappeared for good, i broke things off peacefully with E2 and found my current partner... and then in the merry-go-round of plot twists that is my life, E2 decided to assault me.
then he apologized, asking for forgiveness. we haven't spoken since on orders of my current partner, which i know is reasonable given what had transpired.
but last night, when my partner induced these flashbacks and offered little to no support or apology on his own incentive, i went to bed crying and wished that i could confide in E2 again.
its messed up because this was a man that helped me emotionally through an abusive relationship, then assaulted me while in my current relationship...
then in my current relationship, this was a man that triggered emotions from an abusive relationship and offered only some muttered sorries with eyes glued to the television.
it made me remember an recents instance in which we exchanged reasons for why we loved each other. to him, i gave the reasons as his humor, his patience, and his honesty. to me, he gave the reason as my "cute" face–noting that this was his favorite feature.
the only feature?
so when i am who i am, trauma and all, i am no longer desirable or deserving of comfort?
it hurts my heart and i have no one to turn to. in the end i am all by myself.
but that makes me want to fight for more...
even if i fail, i swear i'll go down fighting. i have a respectable career, apparently pleasant looks, and friends i can finally break to if i choose to swallow my pride on these matters... so even though i still feel like a loser, i know i'm not completely disadvantaged.
in that sense, i can continue to fight for my own happiness and i will. life will always be difficult and heartbreaking, but the biggest battle always happens on my own mental plains.
i don't need a therapist and i can do this by myself. i know i can.
last night, despite everything, i stayed sober. i woke up early in the morning, i put on exercise clothes and ran for 40 minutes, then came back home to shower, get dressed, and make lunch for work.
so even though im crying as i type this on my lunch break... i'm going to stay, complete all my projects, come home, continue taking care of myself, and hope that tomorrow is a little brighter and better.
everything will be okay.
Tuesday, October 22, 2019
thinking
sometimes, or many times, or all the time, i overthink. i overthink, i reminisce, and i remember–and not always for the better, at that.
sometimes the feelings creep over me, like the waves of a tide pool. other times, they outright crash and topple me, like the waves of a tsunami. in times like this, i realize that i tend to overflow and spill my guts out into one or more of three different avenues:
1. crying
2. crying to my friends
3. crying through my writing
i came to the conclusion today that i should–almost exclusively if i can–spill only into avenue #3. at least that way i can identify as a suffering artist and emanate some semblance of productivity, instead of just being an outright loser. i'm tired of being a loser.
from the trauma that's impacted me across my life, i've found it hard to keep balance between who i am and who i should be. for the longest time, i've felt like a burden to those around me, and to be honest... i'm continuously confused, humbled, and devastated–in waves–by the people in my life who have befriended me, betrayed me, or healed me. i always remember this quote:
"people are much better and much worse than you'd expect, but usually not all at once."
people are multifaceted and i try to understand that. i'm well aware that i myself am flawed and... i am not confident, because i don't understand myself. it's not like i'm trying to be a disaster, i just don't know what to do sometimes, and i act out of an instinct for survival.
in the grand scheme of things, i try to remember that i am only 26. relying on decent genetics to calculate this, that's only about 1/4 of my life, and in that case, i feel like its okay to be a little confused sometimes, or many times, or all the time. it's not like i'm not trying to be better.
...
well, i guess i really wasn't in the last couple months. i think i've found some peace and happiness, but with it came a mixture of laziness, compliance, and indulgence. right now, there are six different problems:
1. my "harmless" drug habit
2. my overeating
3. my lack of sleep
4. my lack of writing
5. my overwork
6. my negativity
these are all my problems borne out of no one but me. i'm trying to pound that into myself now and be unyielding in my determination to change, TODAY. and then tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that...
1. to my "harmless" drug habit – i will stop. the sad part is that i am not addicted physically, but lean on this habit mentally, to avoid crying via avenues #1 and #2.
2. to my overeating – no more eating after 7:00 PM. lots of water, veggies and fruits, cut down on the starch and meat, processed foods. balance this out with exercise, be able to dress like a whore again and feel wonderful doing it.
3. to my lack of sleep – i have to close my eyes before 12:00 AM
4. to my lack of writing – i used to read and write everyday. i love it. i still love it. i need to stop getting distracted by adult worries and enjoy who i was and who i still am at the core. i love words and i will not stop writing them.
5. my overwork – no more emails after work hours. no more working on weekends. no more getting stressed out over the needs and wants of colleagues and bosses. in the end, in that environment, i am replaceable... and the words i produce there are not legally mine. i am not obligated to spend that much energy on something that i can't keep or be proud of.
6. my negativity – ^fix the above issues and approximately 80% of it will be eliminated.
life is both too short and too long and i refuse it waste it anymore.
sometimes the feelings creep over me, like the waves of a tide pool. other times, they outright crash and topple me, like the waves of a tsunami. in times like this, i realize that i tend to overflow and spill my guts out into one or more of three different avenues:
1. crying
2. crying to my friends
3. crying through my writing
i came to the conclusion today that i should–almost exclusively if i can–spill only into avenue #3. at least that way i can identify as a suffering artist and emanate some semblance of productivity, instead of just being an outright loser. i'm tired of being a loser.
from the trauma that's impacted me across my life, i've found it hard to keep balance between who i am and who i should be. for the longest time, i've felt like a burden to those around me, and to be honest... i'm continuously confused, humbled, and devastated–in waves–by the people in my life who have befriended me, betrayed me, or healed me. i always remember this quote:
"people are much better and much worse than you'd expect, but usually not all at once."
people are multifaceted and i try to understand that. i'm well aware that i myself am flawed and... i am not confident, because i don't understand myself. it's not like i'm trying to be a disaster, i just don't know what to do sometimes, and i act out of an instinct for survival.
in the grand scheme of things, i try to remember that i am only 26. relying on decent genetics to calculate this, that's only about 1/4 of my life, and in that case, i feel like its okay to be a little confused sometimes, or many times, or all the time. it's not like i'm not trying to be better.
...
well, i guess i really wasn't in the last couple months. i think i've found some peace and happiness, but with it came a mixture of laziness, compliance, and indulgence. right now, there are six different problems:
1. my "harmless" drug habit
2. my overeating
3. my lack of sleep
4. my lack of writing
5. my overwork
6. my negativity
these are all my problems borne out of no one but me. i'm trying to pound that into myself now and be unyielding in my determination to change, TODAY. and then tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that...
1. to my "harmless" drug habit – i will stop. the sad part is that i am not addicted physically, but lean on this habit mentally, to avoid crying via avenues #1 and #2.
2. to my overeating – no more eating after 7:00 PM. lots of water, veggies and fruits, cut down on the starch and meat, processed foods. balance this out with exercise, be able to dress like a whore again and feel wonderful doing it.
3. to my lack of sleep – i have to close my eyes before 12:00 AM
4. to my lack of writing – i used to read and write everyday. i love it. i still love it. i need to stop getting distracted by adult worries and enjoy who i was and who i still am at the core. i love words and i will not stop writing them.
5. my overwork – no more emails after work hours. no more working on weekends. no more getting stressed out over the needs and wants of colleagues and bosses. in the end, in that environment, i am replaceable... and the words i produce there are not legally mine. i am not obligated to spend that much energy on something that i can't keep or be proud of.
6. my negativity – ^fix the above issues and approximately 80% of it will be eliminated.
life is both too short and too long and i refuse it waste it anymore.
Monday, September 9, 2019
slogging through almost romances
it's been so many years since i've touched this blog. back then i was just a teenager who wanted a place to vent and angst, and now that i'm a full-fledged adult woman... i still want the same.
to be honest, i hadn't known i would make it this far. life seemed so bleak back then and i routinely fantasized about having an "easy exit." i always felt alone and unneeded, and i thought that if i passed, then maybe all that suffering would finally come to an end.
it would, of course, but so would all the few rays of joy.
my friends. my best friends.
i wanted to continue smiling around them. i thought that i could trust them with my life.
a couple here and there took advantage of that—all men, but i promised myself not to hate the rest of them for that.
T broke my heart sincerely. at 18, i had no idea how to handle the loss of my first kiss and my innocence. before it happened, i felt like maybe i could really fall in love with him. i was about to, actually... and then he. just. did it.
and then he left.
an ocean away, with me all alone on the shore. used, and played with—even if he had gotten angry that i said that.
he said he loved me but if he did, then why would be do something and ruin me for so many years?
he was my best friend and i had no idea how to make it without him. i went to therapy to try and recover. i cried rivers of tears and then i... made my first mistake.
found a real lover. i think i loved him. its hard to remember, but it wasn't right, because i cried all the time with him too.
he didn't understand me and he didn't like me as a person. he only loved my face and my kindness.
so i left.
i felt good about myself for a while, but i was lonely. most of my friends were so far away, and my family was the cause of so much distress. this turmoil, i think, is what lead me to E.
E was the worst thing that could have happened to me.
in hindsight he was pure evil. i was scared of him. for two years, i lost my identity, until i found the strength to calculate a safe way out.
most people wish the best for their ex, but i wish him worst. for what he's done to me, i don't care—i hope he drops dead.
in any case, how i found the strength to leave E was by meeting T2.
T2 is one of the most tender human beings i have ever met. i know i fell in love with him. nothing ever progressed in a way a typical romance does, but i am grateful for and will always remember the one night we were able to laugh and talk and stroll the city. the memory of it and all its sweetness could make me cry still. i don't think he'll ever know how important he was to me in that moment in time... it made me realize that i deserved better and could readily achieve so—even if not with him.
i guess it was an unrequited love, but i never confessed. we are still friends and i will always treasure him.
to nurse this impossibility, i ended up rolling into bed with E2. i want to say that it was an attempt to empower myself and take back my body (emotions, i guess, already went to T2) but also it was just a way to forget.
E2 was odd. he was so similar to E but without the brutality. he was all intelligence and cunning but it came with a bite. he had demons i could spot from a mile a way and wanted no part in—i kept a distance but the relationship grew closer and closer.
despite what is said, and the limitations set beforehand... when you share a physicality, it's impossible not to grow close. you see and hear and feel the person in all their vulnerabilities, you share an orgasm, you share your insecurities, you share your sweet talks and reassurances and you try to bury it the next morning but you're already hardwired to want more.
and more and more.
i didn't want that with E2. i was enjoying myself and my newfound freedom over myself but i didn't want to repeat history with this type of person again—even with the personality differences here and there. i just couldn't. i'd be miserable.
so i left. i vowed to stay friends, and treasure him too for helping me find confidence (what semblance of it that can be gained from something like this, i guess) and i left.
then i found H.
but that is a happier story for a happier day.
to be honest, i hadn't known i would make it this far. life seemed so bleak back then and i routinely fantasized about having an "easy exit." i always felt alone and unneeded, and i thought that if i passed, then maybe all that suffering would finally come to an end.
it would, of course, but so would all the few rays of joy.
my friends. my best friends.
i wanted to continue smiling around them. i thought that i could trust them with my life.
a couple here and there took advantage of that—all men, but i promised myself not to hate the rest of them for that.
T broke my heart sincerely. at 18, i had no idea how to handle the loss of my first kiss and my innocence. before it happened, i felt like maybe i could really fall in love with him. i was about to, actually... and then he. just. did it.
and then he left.
an ocean away, with me all alone on the shore. used, and played with—even if he had gotten angry that i said that.
he said he loved me but if he did, then why would be do something and ruin me for so many years?
he was my best friend and i had no idea how to make it without him. i went to therapy to try and recover. i cried rivers of tears and then i... made my first mistake.
found a real lover. i think i loved him. its hard to remember, but it wasn't right, because i cried all the time with him too.
he didn't understand me and he didn't like me as a person. he only loved my face and my kindness.
so i left.
i felt good about myself for a while, but i was lonely. most of my friends were so far away, and my family was the cause of so much distress. this turmoil, i think, is what lead me to E.
E was the worst thing that could have happened to me.
in hindsight he was pure evil. i was scared of him. for two years, i lost my identity, until i found the strength to calculate a safe way out.
most people wish the best for their ex, but i wish him worst. for what he's done to me, i don't care—i hope he drops dead.
in any case, how i found the strength to leave E was by meeting T2.
T2 is one of the most tender human beings i have ever met. i know i fell in love with him. nothing ever progressed in a way a typical romance does, but i am grateful for and will always remember the one night we were able to laugh and talk and stroll the city. the memory of it and all its sweetness could make me cry still. i don't think he'll ever know how important he was to me in that moment in time... it made me realize that i deserved better and could readily achieve so—even if not with him.
i guess it was an unrequited love, but i never confessed. we are still friends and i will always treasure him.
to nurse this impossibility, i ended up rolling into bed with E2. i want to say that it was an attempt to empower myself and take back my body (emotions, i guess, already went to T2) but also it was just a way to forget.
E2 was odd. he was so similar to E but without the brutality. he was all intelligence and cunning but it came with a bite. he had demons i could spot from a mile a way and wanted no part in—i kept a distance but the relationship grew closer and closer.
despite what is said, and the limitations set beforehand... when you share a physicality, it's impossible not to grow close. you see and hear and feel the person in all their vulnerabilities, you share an orgasm, you share your insecurities, you share your sweet talks and reassurances and you try to bury it the next morning but you're already hardwired to want more.
and more and more.
i didn't want that with E2. i was enjoying myself and my newfound freedom over myself but i didn't want to repeat history with this type of person again—even with the personality differences here and there. i just couldn't. i'd be miserable.
so i left. i vowed to stay friends, and treasure him too for helping me find confidence (what semblance of it that can be gained from something like this, i guess) and i left.
then i found H.
but that is a happier story for a happier day.
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