Friday, October 26, 2012

soul call

believe, just for a second, in the possibility of a miracle. suspend all your thoughts and pragmatic assumptions, and believe that sometimes dreams come true.

the day hadn't yet begun but i was suddenly jolted awake by an empty void. by habit i checked my phone again for some sort of respite from the distance, but sadly, there was none. laying awake staring at the ceiling turning slowing slowly lighter as the sun began to rise, i started to drift off, curling up tighter into my comforter, wishing and wishing that he was back beside me.

they say when you truly wish for something, from the bottom of your heart, it comes true.

as i drifted off, i suddenly felt his lips press against mine! this must be a dream, i thought. but it's so perfect i dare not open my eyes. i could feel his warmth and as he kissed me i lifted up and into his arms.

with resolve i opened my eyes to confirm that i was dreaming. but, no, there he was! sitting on my bed ten thousand miles away from home. looking back into my eyes and smiling and his smile was so familiar, and i could touch him again and his arms were back around me and everything was right again and the moment was perfect. did we talk? can't remember. probably nothing of consequence. but then he lay me down to sleep again and vanished like a dream.

and i refuse to believe that it was. it wasn't him, yes, but it was a part of him that was there, and it wasn't me that met him but a part of me.

it's just something else, i think, if you imagine that a soul can call out to another soul, and they respond, and for a brief moment of unconsciousness, you have the gift of meeting someone you sorely miss. and i refuse to think it was just a dream because it felt too real. too much of a memory for me to let it go. it's like a balm, to believe.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

an endless procession of men that i must make sure remain happy. this is the story of my life. for some reason, women get by much better.

for a long long long time, i've dealt with the endless guilt and emotional blackmail that men in my life have been inflicting on me. it started about three years ago.

specimen number one. had something for me that i couldn't reciprocate. thus used me to continuously whine and i listened because i felt guilty for rejecting him. six months, that lasted.

specimen number two. felt angry about me dating his best friend. i continuously apologized to him for weeks. after which he was gracious enough to talk to me again. why i needed his approval i'll never know. but i just kept apologizing.

specimen number three. my fault really. i cheated on him. with someone that i had started to love. it wasn't his fault, and i listened to his anger for days or weeks. and i tried to placate him. tried to make him feel better. apologized and apologized. fuck.

specimen number four. fell for me. i didn't fall for him though. i told him, how i was still getting over someone else. though now we become physically intimate only because of the guilt that overwhelms me when i tell him no and he feels sad, because he's tried everything and been so sweet, and yet i do not reciprocate in the way he wants.

specimen number five. the only one i was ever completely crazy about. whose happiness means everything to me. and who's sad now because of where my life is going. but i'm too exhausted. exhausted by the collective guilt. exhausted by trying to please every single fucking person in my life. i can't please him now. i can't please him. because he's right. what is happening is happening.

fuck. i'm so tired of all this guilt.

two nights ago, it was beautiful. i was out, and happy, and free. it wasn't a feeling i've had in a long time. this feeling of not worrying about anyone, and not worrying about the consequences of my actions on anyone. that is what i want right now. that beautiful feeling of being free.
fuck my life.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Writing, for me, is a bad sign. If I'm writing a lot it means I'm thinking a lot. If I'm thinking a lot it means theres something wrong. If there's something wrong and I can't do anything about it, it confuses me. And confusion is sadness. And sadness is bad. And writing is the only answer.

But things are alright now, and there is peace.