sorry, i'm still going. don't worry, i'll go to sleep soon. i'm going to look for my dragon shawl. it's got a dragon scale pattern on it, lace, little gaps, softness, crawling up holes, between fingers, cashmere, one of my favourite fibers.
i hate how angry and bitter i sound, towards people who i actually Like. that's what's hardest. i hate having all this feeling pouring over me, and it ending up overflowing anywhere near her. she's great. like i said, i think she's an awesome human being, and it's so hard given the context. i loathe it. however, i don't know why HE thinks she is awesome. in all of my SIX MONTHS of m diatribes, i never got insight into what he loved about her, other than that she was sometimes funny. it was only when i started talking to her that i realised - hell, she's cool. i can see why he likes her. i get that. why didn't you tell me more about how great she is? love is love, and i can celebrate that. it would hurt, but not like this. i would be ok if not for the promise he'd never do it, the repeated statements and lists of why, only to have him do it two days after one such talk.
sigh.
boring, boring BORING BORING BORING elizabeth. come ON. argh. hard not to bash self up over how dull it is. i can get the mental image of readers rolling eyes, or laughing at me, i guess. no, not i guess. i do. people just sniggering at how pathetic i am.
tea, cup four for the night. it is like beer only better. potato curry was not too good, sadly, i didn't have any vegetable stock so just used water.
oh little bird why can't you fly?
Showing posts with label hell-breakup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hell-breakup. Show all posts
Sunday, March 29, 2009
ah blog, how comforting you are...
i am now waiting for my potato curry to cook. should i have cous cous too? i wish i didn't have to keep comments of blog, sometimes, so i could ask you, loyal readers, if i should have cous cous with my dinner.
however i'm far too fragile to face the wrath of angry teenagers. sorry, angry teenagers. and thus, sorry regular readers. i am sure you'd love to comment on the presence or absence of cous cous on my dinner.
UPDATE - curry had cous cous added. was not quite enough liquid for it to work really well... sigh...
i'm going to get out my old dragon shawl and work on it... see how i feel a little later, if i'll sleep or get knocked out. the dreams are starting to be foul, dream after dream of him and her, laughing at me, him kicking dust in my face. the amusing ironic thing is that i broke up with HIM because of how he treated her. i thought it was shit to be leading someone on for a game, even if you did have feelings for them, when you'd never date them due to being in love with someone else... ohhhh that's funny.
hope you are 'resolving it' nicely now.
sigh. i am too tired to be angry now. too tired to care. this horrible sick resigned feeling of being used, of being tossed aside. of being too hard. of being not good enough. of being less interesting than someone he claimed was not that interesting. this crushes me. see, if he'd told me how wonderful she was, like i heard about j, his other partner, i'd be ok. hurt, but ok. i would see why, and how, and get it. i get why he loves j, totally, because she sounds incredible. i watched a dance performance she did, on you tube, and it was breathtaking. i know how they met, and it's moving and beautiful and he painted it romantically and magic like. i know what he loves about her, and what frustrates him, and why she is complex and wonderful, in a way that never made me feel as though my relationship with him was lessened, or he was lessening his relationship with her. both of us were treated with respect, and love, and caring when he talked about her, and i appreciate that so much.
but i got left for someone he used to make me jealous. i got left for someone he just whinged about. i got left for someone i Broke Up With HIM due to how he spoke of her. and then, i thought we could work on it. i thought he could be less of a cunt about it all, and communicate about what was really bothering him, rather than strange excuses, and strange things. but it was aparently too hard. he had 'some sort of strange real feelings for her,' that had taken six months to come out. stuttering 'there is... an... attraction there...' you know what's better? giving me a damn idea about what makes her worth it, then i can live with it. i don't feel like i've been superceded by someone else for no reason. all i got was complaints, whinges, confusion, oh do i like her? i hate her this week. i am just doing this for ... insert stupid reason here... never about her, just about him, just about the stupid stupid stupid reasons. but never her. i never got an idea about what he loved about her. and when i asked? 'comforting. easier. easy. she's closer in age. i don't explain things well.' this makes me feel used and pathetic and NOTHING.
it's too late now though. i am so tired of this. i am tired of him. i am tired of what he did to me. i am tired of this. i don't need reasons now. i don't Want them. i want to stop hurting. i want it to all stop. it just keeps running backwards, oh max, oh emily, is this karma for fucking up with you too? cause well, yeah, i fucked up then, and this time, i tried really hard, and it fucked up around me. so don't worry, you don't need to hate me, the universe sorted this all out for you.
i didn't mean to wreck things. i really didn't. i just tried to talk about them. i tried to give him what he wanted. i tried to be the best possible person to him that i could. and i feel like i did all this, and all that happened was i am stuck working in a building reminded of those moments, oh that time behind the building the first time i went out with you to get a cigarette, you liked my docs, i saw you looking at how i stood, i watched you smoke, your lips curling around cigarette, inhaling, that strangely fast way you smoke, and i wanted to touch your face. this is before i even thought you'd possibly be interested. i longed so much for that moment you'd match your words to what you said when you looked at me.
that room upstairs, oh god, i cannot step in there now, 'i just asked you here so i could hold your hand'... that way you looked at me, so hungrily, so lovingly, oh god, oh god.. and over drinks, 'i think you are pretty, and i really want to kiss you,' street theatre, little bar, we walk home, we walk, you touch my feet softly as we listen to music... oh god.. and we were drunk, we were drunk, and i kissed you, in my bed, or you kissed me, and, oh god...
there is a collection of these, and i know writing them down and getting them out is how i heal. there will be entries like this, and readers, i'm sorry. i really am. but i will not hold back because of who is reading this, because it's my space. and i am not making it private in case it upsets someone, because it is my space, and i am so upset that i need something, and i'm sick of making my decisions based on what's happening to others, now.
however i'm far too fragile to face the wrath of angry teenagers. sorry, angry teenagers. and thus, sorry regular readers. i am sure you'd love to comment on the presence or absence of cous cous on my dinner.
UPDATE - curry had cous cous added. was not quite enough liquid for it to work really well... sigh...
i'm going to get out my old dragon shawl and work on it... see how i feel a little later, if i'll sleep or get knocked out. the dreams are starting to be foul, dream after dream of him and her, laughing at me, him kicking dust in my face. the amusing ironic thing is that i broke up with HIM because of how he treated her. i thought it was shit to be leading someone on for a game, even if you did have feelings for them, when you'd never date them due to being in love with someone else... ohhhh that's funny.
hope you are 'resolving it' nicely now.
sigh. i am too tired to be angry now. too tired to care. this horrible sick resigned feeling of being used, of being tossed aside. of being too hard. of being not good enough. of being less interesting than someone he claimed was not that interesting. this crushes me. see, if he'd told me how wonderful she was, like i heard about j, his other partner, i'd be ok. hurt, but ok. i would see why, and how, and get it. i get why he loves j, totally, because she sounds incredible. i watched a dance performance she did, on you tube, and it was breathtaking. i know how they met, and it's moving and beautiful and he painted it romantically and magic like. i know what he loves about her, and what frustrates him, and why she is complex and wonderful, in a way that never made me feel as though my relationship with him was lessened, or he was lessening his relationship with her. both of us were treated with respect, and love, and caring when he talked about her, and i appreciate that so much.
but i got left for someone he used to make me jealous. i got left for someone he just whinged about. i got left for someone i Broke Up With HIM due to how he spoke of her. and then, i thought we could work on it. i thought he could be less of a cunt about it all, and communicate about what was really bothering him, rather than strange excuses, and strange things. but it was aparently too hard. he had 'some sort of strange real feelings for her,' that had taken six months to come out. stuttering 'there is... an... attraction there...' you know what's better? giving me a damn idea about what makes her worth it, then i can live with it. i don't feel like i've been superceded by someone else for no reason. all i got was complaints, whinges, confusion, oh do i like her? i hate her this week. i am just doing this for ... insert stupid reason here... never about her, just about him, just about the stupid stupid stupid reasons. but never her. i never got an idea about what he loved about her. and when i asked? 'comforting. easier. easy. she's closer in age. i don't explain things well.' this makes me feel used and pathetic and NOTHING.
it's too late now though. i am so tired of this. i am tired of him. i am tired of what he did to me. i am tired of this. i don't need reasons now. i don't Want them. i want to stop hurting. i want it to all stop. it just keeps running backwards, oh max, oh emily, is this karma for fucking up with you too? cause well, yeah, i fucked up then, and this time, i tried really hard, and it fucked up around me. so don't worry, you don't need to hate me, the universe sorted this all out for you.
i didn't mean to wreck things. i really didn't. i just tried to talk about them. i tried to give him what he wanted. i tried to be the best possible person to him that i could. and i feel like i did all this, and all that happened was i am stuck working in a building reminded of those moments, oh that time behind the building the first time i went out with you to get a cigarette, you liked my docs, i saw you looking at how i stood, i watched you smoke, your lips curling around cigarette, inhaling, that strangely fast way you smoke, and i wanted to touch your face. this is before i even thought you'd possibly be interested. i longed so much for that moment you'd match your words to what you said when you looked at me.
that room upstairs, oh god, i cannot step in there now, 'i just asked you here so i could hold your hand'... that way you looked at me, so hungrily, so lovingly, oh god, oh god.. and over drinks, 'i think you are pretty, and i really want to kiss you,' street theatre, little bar, we walk home, we walk, you touch my feet softly as we listen to music... oh god.. and we were drunk, we were drunk, and i kissed you, in my bed, or you kissed me, and, oh god...
there is a collection of these, and i know writing them down and getting them out is how i heal. there will be entries like this, and readers, i'm sorry. i really am. but i will not hold back because of who is reading this, because it's my space. and i am not making it private in case it upsets someone, because it is my space, and i am so upset that i need something, and i'm sick of making my decisions based on what's happening to others, now.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
haiku
the mental health team
are our special friends some times
when we cannot sleep.
'i will break your heart
but can we still be friends, yeah?
i still think you're hot.'
today i ate Peach
last night i drank too much Wine
and today is crap.
i wish i was home.
this shitty city sucks bad
when you are lonely.
are our special friends some times
when we cannot sleep.
'i will break your heart
but can we still be friends, yeah?
i still think you're hot.'
today i ate Peach
last night i drank too much Wine
and today is crap.
i wish i was home.
this shitty city sucks bad
when you are lonely.
action
taking proper action now:
1. every trace i can is getting out of the fucking house. books lent, old jumper on the floor, a shirt of his. not taking to work. he comes and gets them, or i throw it out.
2. contacted doctors. not going more into it than that, don't particularly feel like parading my mental illnesses around as though they make me interesting in some way. but have gotten to point where outside help is needed.
3. removed him from facebook, and from little bun's facebook. i don't NEED the fucking 'in a relationship with ..... ' blinking up. sorry if i think putting up a relationship status is like something a fucking 14 year old girl needs in order to feel as though she is worthy. oh... 14 year old girl... that's right. yeah.
4. resist urge to be cruel. i know what i want to do. i know how i want to do it. because i want to fuck his life up as much as he has done mine. but this, is. stupid. it's not about him, but about my REACTION to the circumstances. yes, he treated me shit, but the reaction that makes sense is that i would never speak to him again, and would no longer love someone who acted like that. this is not how i am reacting. my reaction is largely out of my control now - thus step 2. but i am not going to do it, and i won't because it's my reaction i am having, and it's no one's fault. i don't BLAME him for me feeling this shit. my reaction to his action has caused me to fall apart. it's obviously triggered something profoundly horrible in me that's risen up, vomit like in my throat, and i can't get it out properly. i am very angry at him, but i don't blame him for the suicidal urges. that's unrelated to him, and is ONLY about me, and where i am situated right now. i am sickened by his treatment of me and it's ok to feel angry. but it's not ok to want to hurt others or myself because of this, and i need to minimise my desire, and capacity to do this, in the safest, best way possible. sorry, e, if this makes me boring, and doesn't satisfy your desire for drama. i know you get off on women saying they want to kill themselves. i know you get off on seeing people acting like perpetual teenagers. but i won't give you that fucking satisfaction. you got the woman you love because she's a 14 year old inside (or so you said). all yours. a part of me goes 'and fuck off and die' but that's petty.
trying to work out what i do next. current action plan is good. will get a lot of the most intense stuff sorted with step two.
1. every trace i can is getting out of the fucking house. books lent, old jumper on the floor, a shirt of his. not taking to work. he comes and gets them, or i throw it out.
2. contacted doctors. not going more into it than that, don't particularly feel like parading my mental illnesses around as though they make me interesting in some way. but have gotten to point where outside help is needed.
3. removed him from facebook, and from little bun's facebook. i don't NEED the fucking 'in a relationship with ..... ' blinking up. sorry if i think putting up a relationship status is like something a fucking 14 year old girl needs in order to feel as though she is worthy. oh... 14 year old girl... that's right. yeah.
4. resist urge to be cruel. i know what i want to do. i know how i want to do it. because i want to fuck his life up as much as he has done mine. but this, is. stupid. it's not about him, but about my REACTION to the circumstances. yes, he treated me shit, but the reaction that makes sense is that i would never speak to him again, and would no longer love someone who acted like that. this is not how i am reacting. my reaction is largely out of my control now - thus step 2. but i am not going to do it, and i won't because it's my reaction i am having, and it's no one's fault. i don't BLAME him for me feeling this shit. my reaction to his action has caused me to fall apart. it's obviously triggered something profoundly horrible in me that's risen up, vomit like in my throat, and i can't get it out properly. i am very angry at him, but i don't blame him for the suicidal urges. that's unrelated to him, and is ONLY about me, and where i am situated right now. i am sickened by his treatment of me and it's ok to feel angry. but it's not ok to want to hurt others or myself because of this, and i need to minimise my desire, and capacity to do this, in the safest, best way possible. sorry, e, if this makes me boring, and doesn't satisfy your desire for drama. i know you get off on women saying they want to kill themselves. i know you get off on seeing people acting like perpetual teenagers. but i won't give you that fucking satisfaction. you got the woman you love because she's a 14 year old inside (or so you said). all yours. a part of me goes 'and fuck off and die' but that's petty.
trying to work out what i do next. current action plan is good. will get a lot of the most intense stuff sorted with step two.
little on the floor
k.
remember once again why i've stopped drinking.
drinking
makes
me
want
to
die.
it was several hours of hopeless miserable sobbing, until one am. i tried my bodhichitta practice (in touch with the feeling and not the narrative, feeling not narrative) and it helped a little, but it was intensely horrifically, suicidally bad. sadly, have now reached point where some sort of expert intervention is needed, because i Literally wanted to die if i felt like that for One more moment, let alone the next couple of months that i know this will swing back in and out of my life.
it's bringing back emily and max too much, only in slightly different ways... that was so hideous, and to have the same earworm returns sure as FUCK tells me something about my life choices and where i have been going wrong. it is mourning that all over again, those same feelings of worthlessness. that same sick feeling of walking into somewhere that used to make me intensely happy and having it turn into a BIG FAT REMINDER of what happened. only there, back home, i was at home. i had a support network build up over years. i had a home. here, it's still being built and i worry so much that i am going to lose all my friends over being so PAINFUL about this stupid situation. I am bored of it. i am sick of it. i want to stop hearing about it. and shit, it's my issue. how much worse is it for them?
i'm getting sedatives. i can't fucking sleep anymore, and i am getting sicker and sicker of having to deal with this so viscerally. i still struggle to eat. what i thought was morning sickness was the fact that even going INTO work made me vomit and retch for a few hours.
i have the best friends in the world.
lachlan and liza coming to visit in june/july.
jamin coming to visit next week.
nikhi visiting through april, moving in august.
jule visiting may.
alex is in town tonight (cannot bare thought of going out yet, hope will feel better soon..)
brad has promised a later in year visit.
and my canberra friends are also incredible. so much support and kindness that it makes me cry in a happy way, but also a bit sad. oh god, hurts hurts hurt, triggered too many other past things.
for some reason, it makes me ponder my past reactions to something like this, which would have been fuck all that moves. it makes me go back and see why i slutted off, and how it was just my way of trying to feel like i was worthy of love. or something, i don't know.
places i want to move to RIGHT NOW:
melbourne. obvious. easy. friends there - awesome library - can have rabbits - has more bars than you can count - is not too far away.
new york. because it's new york.
london. beause it's london.
"she said she was going to move to melbourne. i didn't really care. but if you were, it would break my heart." - week before breaking up with me for her.
remember once again why i've stopped drinking.
drinking
makes
me
want
to
die.
it was several hours of hopeless miserable sobbing, until one am. i tried my bodhichitta practice (in touch with the feeling and not the narrative, feeling not narrative) and it helped a little, but it was intensely horrifically, suicidally bad. sadly, have now reached point where some sort of expert intervention is needed, because i Literally wanted to die if i felt like that for One more moment, let alone the next couple of months that i know this will swing back in and out of my life.
it's bringing back emily and max too much, only in slightly different ways... that was so hideous, and to have the same earworm returns sure as FUCK tells me something about my life choices and where i have been going wrong. it is mourning that all over again, those same feelings of worthlessness. that same sick feeling of walking into somewhere that used to make me intensely happy and having it turn into a BIG FAT REMINDER of what happened. only there, back home, i was at home. i had a support network build up over years. i had a home. here, it's still being built and i worry so much that i am going to lose all my friends over being so PAINFUL about this stupid situation. I am bored of it. i am sick of it. i want to stop hearing about it. and shit, it's my issue. how much worse is it for them?
i'm getting sedatives. i can't fucking sleep anymore, and i am getting sicker and sicker of having to deal with this so viscerally. i still struggle to eat. what i thought was morning sickness was the fact that even going INTO work made me vomit and retch for a few hours.
i have the best friends in the world.
lachlan and liza coming to visit in june/july.
jamin coming to visit next week.
nikhi visiting through april, moving in august.
jule visiting may.
alex is in town tonight (cannot bare thought of going out yet, hope will feel better soon..)
brad has promised a later in year visit.
and my canberra friends are also incredible. so much support and kindness that it makes me cry in a happy way, but also a bit sad. oh god, hurts hurts hurt, triggered too many other past things.
for some reason, it makes me ponder my past reactions to something like this, which would have been fuck all that moves. it makes me go back and see why i slutted off, and how it was just my way of trying to feel like i was worthy of love. or something, i don't know.
places i want to move to RIGHT NOW:
melbourne. obvious. easy. friends there - awesome library - can have rabbits - has more bars than you can count - is not too far away.
new york. because it's new york.
london. beause it's london.
"she said she was going to move to melbourne. i didn't really care. but if you were, it would break my heart." - week before breaking up with me for her.
Friday, March 27, 2009
still angry. RE twitter.
ok.
i fucking HATE twitter. i hate library 2.0. i think it's bullshit. i think this idea that twitter can be used to genuinely engage people during a conference is bullshit. people, fucking read through the tweets. people are just whispering to each other. it's just passing fucking notes in class. we are NOT engaging in ideas. we are NOT developing a polemic. we are fucking just passing a few meaningless words across to each other. here's a phrase - they mentioned lego! here's a phrase! it's about second life and i don't care. here's a few words! we are not investigating or interrogating or even discussing, we are just noting that we can hear it. this is bullshit. surely i am not the only one who can see this, right? i'm not engaging in this just for the sake of it. i'll take notes, reflect, and write them up. i'll engage with the ideas presented. but i'm not flickering a few mindless words that come to mind and i send on my phone to a general area for others to read because it seems like the bullshit 2.0 thing to do. it's not a meeting place, its semantics, it's a joke, it's doing something because it seems so HIP without realising what a fucking ridiculous pointless thing it is. as the ABC guy said, for news, it's awesome.
but it's not breaking news. it's a fucking conference. the notes are going to be online in a few hours anyway. there is NO point to tweeting that i can see, really.
plus, i hate seeing scattered interactions there. i hate this. you fucked up my life, e, i hope you can see exactly how much. you made my workplace, my FAVOURITE place in in canberra, a miserable, horrible reminder of how less awesome i was than someone you said you didn't even LIKE. i feel sick every morning walking in there. i hate it. you've made me utterly miserable, and i hope you are happy. i hope you are happy.
i fucking HATE twitter. i hate library 2.0. i think it's bullshit. i think this idea that twitter can be used to genuinely engage people during a conference is bullshit. people, fucking read through the tweets. people are just whispering to each other. it's just passing fucking notes in class. we are NOT engaging in ideas. we are NOT developing a polemic. we are fucking just passing a few meaningless words across to each other. here's a phrase - they mentioned lego! here's a phrase! it's about second life and i don't care. here's a few words! we are not investigating or interrogating or even discussing, we are just noting that we can hear it. this is bullshit. surely i am not the only one who can see this, right? i'm not engaging in this just for the sake of it. i'll take notes, reflect, and write them up. i'll engage with the ideas presented. but i'm not flickering a few mindless words that come to mind and i send on my phone to a general area for others to read because it seems like the bullshit 2.0 thing to do. it's not a meeting place, its semantics, it's a joke, it's doing something because it seems so HIP without realising what a fucking ridiculous pointless thing it is. as the ABC guy said, for news, it's awesome.
but it's not breaking news. it's a fucking conference. the notes are going to be online in a few hours anyway. there is NO point to tweeting that i can see, really.
plus, i hate seeing scattered interactions there. i hate this. you fucked up my life, e, i hope you can see exactly how much. you made my workplace, my FAVOURITE place in in canberra, a miserable, horrible reminder of how less awesome i was than someone you said you didn't even LIKE. i feel sick every morning walking in there. i hate it. you've made me utterly miserable, and i hope you are happy. i hope you are happy.
angry. contrained
trying to not go over the top.
is tempting to keep sending messages. remember many times where she would send message after message when we were together. he'd answer them.
clearly, i don't get the same respect. but i would say that is true in a lot of regards.
i am very very angry right now, drinking does that. i am exceedingly upset, and i just want to sleep to make it go away. this is good. more, i want pain, i want pain, i want pain, but i am bigger than this.
previously, i'd go and get laid in order to feel better. now it won't work. i kinda want to make him hurt as much as i do right now, but he's NOT WORTH IT. need to repeat.
but that's a lie. people don't FUCKING get it.
what does elizabeth want?
1. him to ask for forgiveness. i don't need him to want to be with me. or to break up with her. i want him to ask for forgiveness. he's not even a man enough to do that.
2. i would Like to never see them together, ever again. i am solving this by taking night shifts, and weekend ones, and having wet dreams of them both leaving the library.
3. i want him back.
4. most of all, i want to not love him.
i'd be happy if he was with j. because i don't know every single iota of their relationship, i don't know every single opinion he has of her body, her self, her opinions, her phrasing, her life. i haven't sat through every change of opinion. i haven't re-heard her insult me. i haven't had to be a fucking third party in him flirting with her to make me feel sick with envy, only to have him leave me. fuck i wouldn't have CARED if he'd left me for j, because i knew WHY he loved her. all i have with M is a list of characterisitics he's shared that seem somewhat unpleasant. even if every encounter with her i've ever had has shown her to be nothing but an awesome person, he's said almost NOTHING kind about her over the whole six months. fuck THIS. fuck THIS. i ended it with HIM because he was such a fucking shit about her. fuck THIS. i knew he'd date her if i ended it, because, well, being alone is harder than approaching your life as a fucking adult, and he cares about her, and fuck, FUCK go to hell, go to hell, GO TO HELL.
pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. you made me feel like nothing. you made me feel like nothing. you get irritated if i say i am nothing, but you treat me like THIS and expect me not to feel like SHIT? you cunt. you cunt. you CUNT. how the fuck can you do this and not expect me to feel like the smallest, most pathetic human being on earth? you want to fuck me but not date me. oh, but not fuck me now, no, tighter cunt eh?
is tempting to keep sending messages. remember many times where she would send message after message when we were together. he'd answer them.
clearly, i don't get the same respect. but i would say that is true in a lot of regards.
i am very very angry right now, drinking does that. i am exceedingly upset, and i just want to sleep to make it go away. this is good. more, i want pain, i want pain, i want pain, but i am bigger than this.
previously, i'd go and get laid in order to feel better. now it won't work. i kinda want to make him hurt as much as i do right now, but he's NOT WORTH IT. need to repeat.
but that's a lie. people don't FUCKING get it.
what does elizabeth want?
1. him to ask for forgiveness. i don't need him to want to be with me. or to break up with her. i want him to ask for forgiveness. he's not even a man enough to do that.
2. i would Like to never see them together, ever again. i am solving this by taking night shifts, and weekend ones, and having wet dreams of them both leaving the library.
3. i want him back.
4. most of all, i want to not love him.
i'd be happy if he was with j. because i don't know every single iota of their relationship, i don't know every single opinion he has of her body, her self, her opinions, her phrasing, her life. i haven't sat through every change of opinion. i haven't re-heard her insult me. i haven't had to be a fucking third party in him flirting with her to make me feel sick with envy, only to have him leave me. fuck i wouldn't have CARED if he'd left me for j, because i knew WHY he loved her. all i have with M is a list of characterisitics he's shared that seem somewhat unpleasant. even if every encounter with her i've ever had has shown her to be nothing but an awesome person, he's said almost NOTHING kind about her over the whole six months. fuck THIS. fuck THIS. i ended it with HIM because he was such a fucking shit about her. fuck THIS. i knew he'd date her if i ended it, because, well, being alone is harder than approaching your life as a fucking adult, and he cares about her, and fuck, FUCK go to hell, go to hell, GO TO HELL.
pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. you made me feel like nothing. you made me feel like nothing. you get irritated if i say i am nothing, but you treat me like THIS and expect me not to feel like SHIT? you cunt. you cunt. you CUNT. how the fuck can you do this and not expect me to feel like the smallest, most pathetic human being on earth? you want to fuck me but not date me. oh, but not fuck me now, no, tighter cunt eh?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
every time i think i am not angry
i realise i am.
i think there may be no alternative.
this isn't making me happy.
i am not happy. i am miserable. not depressed, i know the difference well. i am miserable right now, and i just want to stop feeling so betrayed. but i am a trusting little idiot for some stupid reason, and i like to believe in someone and something.
oh i am under it. he did steal my magic, he slipped it away and traded it up. oh i may be wonderful and magical, but tell me how that means a thing when i am tossed aside, some old rag doll limbs falling off, don't tell me i wasn't don't GIVE me that shit, you don't want to call me your girlfriend and that's not a slap in the face, a day or two after telling me you made your mind up, and you wanted to be with me?
i get to a point where i think i am resigned, and i feel so so tired, and then it falls over me again and i am angry, so ANGRY that i was so gullible, and i get nothing but a blank face, no remorse, no nothing. oh i want to be over it. oh i do. and i think this leaves me with nothing no other choices now.
is it even about this? is it more about the feeling of horrible, horrible alone, that staring emptily into the white walls in my big room, knowing there is virtually no way to meet people in this lousy city, and i kind of just want to sit around and knit socks and do little paintings, and i don't want to be alone, but i don't feel like i can trust anyone enough to even have sex with them again. seriously. i feel that betrayed right now. he defecated on that trust so profoundly each time he told me about her, compared me to her, put her down or put me down, because now i just see reflected in her eyes every similar word he fed me, only in reverse. i feel so ugly. so pathetic. so exceptionally alone, so much like something needless and dull and needing baby sitting. he treats me like a child, so i act like one. i fucking moved states alone. i left all my friends, and have survived a year in another state with my list of stupid mental illnesses that keep me on the verge of hearing voices. don't treat me like a fucking child, or i'll act like one, especially when you left me for someone you claim is less mature - i'm going to think that's what you want.
god, this is not even the point. i drag myself into caring, but essentially, it's about betrayal, and being left with ISSUES and nothing left, nothing left, in this
shit city with nothing to do, and being lied to so pathetically. and call it lies, call it 'caught in the moment' but, when you say one thing, and do something else, i'd call that a lie.
and why the FUCK am i wasting my time trying to rebuild a friendship with someone who betrayed me so deeply and has not even been bothered to take my hands, look me in the eye and say 'i treated you like shit, and no one deserves that. i said i loved you, and then i treated you worse than ANYONE, let alone a loved one, deserves to be treated. forgive me.' i have not been asked for forgiveness. so why should i be trying?
surely i have something better to be doing.
i think there may be no alternative.
this isn't making me happy.
i am not happy. i am miserable. not depressed, i know the difference well. i am miserable right now, and i just want to stop feeling so betrayed. but i am a trusting little idiot for some stupid reason, and i like to believe in someone and something.
oh i am under it. he did steal my magic, he slipped it away and traded it up. oh i may be wonderful and magical, but tell me how that means a thing when i am tossed aside, some old rag doll limbs falling off, don't tell me i wasn't don't GIVE me that shit, you don't want to call me your girlfriend and that's not a slap in the face, a day or two after telling me you made your mind up, and you wanted to be with me?
i get to a point where i think i am resigned, and i feel so so tired, and then it falls over me again and i am angry, so ANGRY that i was so gullible, and i get nothing but a blank face, no remorse, no nothing. oh i want to be over it. oh i do. and i think this leaves me with nothing no other choices now.
is it even about this? is it more about the feeling of horrible, horrible alone, that staring emptily into the white walls in my big room, knowing there is virtually no way to meet people in this lousy city, and i kind of just want to sit around and knit socks and do little paintings, and i don't want to be alone, but i don't feel like i can trust anyone enough to even have sex with them again. seriously. i feel that betrayed right now. he defecated on that trust so profoundly each time he told me about her, compared me to her, put her down or put me down, because now i just see reflected in her eyes every similar word he fed me, only in reverse. i feel so ugly. so pathetic. so exceptionally alone, so much like something needless and dull and needing baby sitting. he treats me like a child, so i act like one. i fucking moved states alone. i left all my friends, and have survived a year in another state with my list of stupid mental illnesses that keep me on the verge of hearing voices. don't treat me like a fucking child, or i'll act like one, especially when you left me for someone you claim is less mature - i'm going to think that's what you want.
god, this is not even the point. i drag myself into caring, but essentially, it's about betrayal, and being left with ISSUES and nothing left, nothing left, in this
shit city with nothing to do, and being lied to so pathetically. and call it lies, call it 'caught in the moment' but, when you say one thing, and do something else, i'd call that a lie.
and why the FUCK am i wasting my time trying to rebuild a friendship with someone who betrayed me so deeply and has not even been bothered to take my hands, look me in the eye and say 'i treated you like shit, and no one deserves that. i said i loved you, and then i treated you worse than ANYONE, let alone a loved one, deserves to be treated. forgive me.' i have not been asked for forgiveness. so why should i be trying?
surely i have something better to be doing.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
so sore
so sore, feel so tired.
just want a day or so off. you know. a day out of it. a day out of everything. so i don't know how i feel. i don't feel how i feel. i am not there anymore. i want to be somewhere else, just until the tide settles.
i made a little box out of origami. i spent hours and hours and hours folding it, making each line as sharp as possible. i tested about three different designs until i found one i was happy with.
this was because i wanted to put his feelings for her in there, and give them back to him, so i wouldn't have to be hurt by seeing them anymore. i got pink paper out, and make it, a little box with a lid that folds into itself. sharp corners, standing on its own. oh god, it hurts, just writing it down. i feel overwhelmed by it today, i am so tired, and every muscle in my back is aching, aching, and my body hurts, and feels hijacked and i want it back, i want it all back, i want my heart back, i don't know i don't get it, it all hurts so much.
he said one day, we would open that little box together, gently, and we would laugh about the fact that what was in there almost destroyed our relationship. i told him i didn't want to laugh at it. i wanted him to take it back, and deal with it, and stop hurting me. this was a few days before he picked. he told me we were in it for the long haul. he told me i was the only one that mattered. and he lied, and i don't know why, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
he found it moving. he thought it was beautiful and he loved it. i wanted to make the world anew for him, and this was the first time i felt brave enough to make something for him. i was so excited that he loved it. i wanted to do a painting of the bunnies for him. a painting of pink flowers. a drawing of hands, a smaller one in a larger one. i trusted him. i trusted him. and i was proven an utter fool.
just want a day or so off. you know. a day out of it. a day out of everything. so i don't know how i feel. i don't feel how i feel. i am not there anymore. i want to be somewhere else, just until the tide settles.
i made a little box out of origami. i spent hours and hours and hours folding it, making each line as sharp as possible. i tested about three different designs until i found one i was happy with.
this was because i wanted to put his feelings for her in there, and give them back to him, so i wouldn't have to be hurt by seeing them anymore. i got pink paper out, and make it, a little box with a lid that folds into itself. sharp corners, standing on its own. oh god, it hurts, just writing it down. i feel overwhelmed by it today, i am so tired, and every muscle in my back is aching, aching, and my body hurts, and feels hijacked and i want it back, i want it all back, i want my heart back, i don't know i don't get it, it all hurts so much.
he said one day, we would open that little box together, gently, and we would laugh about the fact that what was in there almost destroyed our relationship. i told him i didn't want to laugh at it. i wanted him to take it back, and deal with it, and stop hurting me. this was a few days before he picked. he told me we were in it for the long haul. he told me i was the only one that mattered. and he lied, and i don't know why, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
he found it moving. he thought it was beautiful and he loved it. i wanted to make the world anew for him, and this was the first time i felt brave enough to make something for him. i was so excited that he loved it. i wanted to do a painting of the bunnies for him. a painting of pink flowers. a drawing of hands, a smaller one in a larger one. i trusted him. i trusted him. and i was proven an utter fool.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
one step at a time.
a lot of posts are going in saved/draft format now because of how sickened i am by e.
one step at a time.
deleted number out of phone.
i am still in love with you.
i am drawing back. aim is to not see him again this week. this is my intention. it keeps breaking my heart.
a little less each day a little less.
the ear worm bores me more. the stupidity bores me more. the cruelty infuriates me, the insensitivity, the details, the details.... i vent it out, because it hurts. i WISH you would hurt. i want to take away 'please please please let me get what i want,' and leave you with nothing. i see those sleepless eyes though and i wonder. and they won't meet mine.
i remember the first time. it was my job interview, and he is the only person i clearly remember from that day, apart from the girl with a pencil skirt and ringlets.
i remember other random flickers. the way he looked at me the time at swing dancing. that gaze. i came to love, and trust that gaze more than anything else in the world. the intensity, that pure love. it was the only time i actually believed it. yes. i wasn't just a toy like the others. i wasn't just something to amuse him while bored at work. he actually DID love me. i still don't know if the joke is on me. but i think back, to when he leaned over and said 'i only asked you here so i could have an excuse to hold your hand,' and my heart, my Stupid heart, it still skips a beat and i feel a little breathless. and it breaks, it breaks, it breaks. and he's making love to someone else now, no condom, no condom, more details than i want to know, it crushes me, it crushes me, i sleep alone, i sleep alone, i like it that way, i am not drowning this in another lover because i've done it before and it hurts way more but it is easier than facing the heartache and i want the easy way out. i want it. i want out.
one step at a time.
deleted number out of phone.
i am still in love with you.
i am drawing back. aim is to not see him again this week. this is my intention. it keeps breaking my heart.
a little less each day a little less.
the ear worm bores me more. the stupidity bores me more. the cruelty infuriates me, the insensitivity, the details, the details.... i vent it out, because it hurts. i WISH you would hurt. i want to take away 'please please please let me get what i want,' and leave you with nothing. i see those sleepless eyes though and i wonder. and they won't meet mine.
i remember the first time. it was my job interview, and he is the only person i clearly remember from that day, apart from the girl with a pencil skirt and ringlets.
i remember other random flickers. the way he looked at me the time at swing dancing. that gaze. i came to love, and trust that gaze more than anything else in the world. the intensity, that pure love. it was the only time i actually believed it. yes. i wasn't just a toy like the others. i wasn't just something to amuse him while bored at work. he actually DID love me. i still don't know if the joke is on me. but i think back, to when he leaned over and said 'i only asked you here so i could have an excuse to hold your hand,' and my heart, my Stupid heart, it still skips a beat and i feel a little breathless. and it breaks, it breaks, it breaks. and he's making love to someone else now, no condom, no condom, more details than i want to know, it crushes me, it crushes me, i sleep alone, i sleep alone, i like it that way, i am not drowning this in another lover because i've done it before and it hurts way more but it is easier than facing the heartache and i want the easy way out. i want it. i want out.
Monday, March 16, 2009
story.winter-soon.direct.likely.missed.pathetic.references...
'tell me a story.'
i am curled on your lap, body beside, more precise, head enfolded crossed legs. your hand strokes my head, running over stubble on my scalp, over my forehead (there is a furrow there that will get deeper as i age) and across my cheekbone, down to my jaw, and back again.
'i AM telling you a story!'
earnest expression.
'exchanging half remembered quotes is not a story,' i say, slightly smug, slightly sad, keeping it here, holding it close.
we have broken in, mid phrase, mid statement
it's like a radio, the constant static in the air as the connection moves between stations. softly
i thought it was you, but you'd lost the ability to write well.
but i sign my name, and i didn't know she liked winterson.
she doesn't, must have read it on my blog. sly laughter. sly laughter. i can hear it in the distance as they make love, and i am here on the couch, and you are telling me a story.
the couch is either lemon yellow, or pale lime. i cannot tell in the light, it is dim in here, and it flickers on and off, like a broken television.
'i could write essays, maybe? go back to uni, do a masters in obscure russian literature.'
'elizabeth, you don't know anything about russian literature.'
'it's making me hate being at work, him being there, her beside him a few levels away. he lied to me, you know. tell me a damn story.'
you tilt my chin up, and i look into your eyes for a moment and then look away, as mine fill with tears, run down my cheeks and salty tracks run into your fingers and i coil back around you like an oroborus, and my heart is my tail, and my mouth is my neck and my feet are my mouth.
you sigh.
'what about one about a princess who rides a pony to - '
'no. no fucking princesses. i cannot stand them.'
a pause. you know me well, and don't understand.
'why not?' a gentle soft question.
'i was once a princess and i couldn't get the kitten out of the tree. i had no magic, and he didn't realise, and i ... i couldn't get the kitten out of the tree. i wasn't his dream, you know. i wasn't his dream, and he thought i was, but that didn't make it real, and it's destined to keep happening, over and over, the story rewritten into this same ending.' i fall tighter on myself, my mouth inside my arms, over my neck, taking my skin into my liver, and trying to disappear when there is nowhere for my body to go.
you leave it. i don't know, it feels like you leave it because you don't care.
'well, what do you want a story about?'
'i want you to pick. i am scared, so scared, and i just got made into another midlife fantasy that faded rapidly out when reality touched me and turned me ugly in the face of age again, and i need to disappear in a story, just fucking tell me a fucking story.' i got quieter and quieter, the radio skipping again, i can hear a voice reading me 'waiting for godot' and i shudder and wrap my arms around my knees and put my head there. the music in the background is new order, temptation, and i never met anyone quite like you before, even if i am just your earworm now.
you pause, because you do not know what to say. your hand rests softly on my forehead (over that crease, oh god, why isn't it deeper, why did this stupid number steal this from me, this stupid lack of years all slipping back, i was nine when the x-files started. in year 4 at school. i was scared of nuclear bombs, and cried myself to sleep and was scared of the dark, while somewhere far away, a woman was pregnant with a child that one one day caused that 9 year old to change her phone number, because she, the nine year old, one day would fall in love with the father, a man from far away with an angry 15 year old who wants nothing more than to make people know how angry she is. however, i was 24, not 33, and thus, it was too hard, too hard, oh there were other reasons, so many, so many, but seeing that 3344together, reminding me of when i was 12, i was so alone, i wished i was older more than anything, i could talk to people who wouldn't laugh at my big words. and when i was 17, and my first boyfriend was 28, my heart broke because i was in a school uniform, and he had two kids. i just wanted to be in love like anyone else, you know, i just wanted to be allowed to love you and you MADE IT SO HARD just because of your time and my time and fine take her because she doesn't make you tired, because it is easy, want me to quote you, i can, you know, i can, i remembered everything because i fell down and NOW you are shying away from any love you ever had for me because i got harder, because you know how smart i am and how i flip words faster than you can form them and i scare you as well as make you tired.)
i whisper now, holding back tears.
'i am a monster, not a pony. i wreck families and lives, i tear them apart and then i get torn in turn. i make them leave their children. i make them leave their lovers. i make them i make them and then i get stood on as they run to something better. i'm the catalyst, i am the stepping stone, and then i get left behind now they are free, the crisis over, little starburst, little shiny star, oh you deserve better.'
'do you want a story?' you say.
'can you tell me a story?' i say.
'do you want me to tell me a story?' you say.
you look at me concerned. your skin is grey, fading in and out, because i cannot spin my words thick enough to make anyone real or to make anyone stay.
i pause, and admit, 'there is no substance to my stories anymore. i need someone else to tell me one for once. i suck at narrative. i just write well.'
you fade a little more, and i know i can't hold your plot together.
'you don't believe me anymore, do you mister? you don't believe in my magic.' i am sad because it is true and i know you would not admit it because you stole the magic away from me, that's why you don't want me, isn't it. you stole it and gave it to her.
'oh believe me, elizabeth. i'm telling you stories.'
and you are more transparent, and monaco plays, flickers over to internet refresh refresh, as i search for you in corners and spaces. what do you want from me? it's not how it used to be. you've taken my life away. ruining everything.
i don't know if that is about me, or about you, or about both of us.
it's me, i know, because your life is fine, with a darling heart, and arms and loving hearts around you. there is a scrap heap behind you that you want to forget about, you'll say sorry and try to fix it but i don't think you care because you are starting to get bored of me, bored of this ear worm, but not as bored of it as i am, oh god, you have no idea how much i wish this would stop ringing in my head. it softens you know, though, i think of Jule and he takes the pain away a little because, god, before you, i thought he was cruel.
i laugh and hiccup out a sob.
grey eyes, whatever colour they once had is gone, you fade a little more, you fade, i curl up more around myself, your hand slips over and through my face but you don't even see it.
'i can tell you a story,' you say, 'of a pile of bones. you hold one up, and realise it is the bone of your lover. you killed them. they were your mother and your child, your father, your aunt, your boss and your enemy. you made love to them, you killed them.'
i am not impressed with the pale and flaccid buddhist tale, and i tell you that.
you smile.
'oh trust me, elizabeth, i am telling you stories.'
i get more and more sad, as i lose you more and more, i lose you over and over again, passing through so many hands, so many hands, the crackles on the radio,
'but 15 years with her, i am not worth that, you'll forget me. you love her. i have nothing on that. she's enchanting, you are enchanted, she is enchanted. you are leaving that behind for me?'
flickers
'you left, you left your family for me?'
flickers
'you can't say it, you know you are more drawn to her type of madness. i can see it. stop telling me that you won't leave me because i am starting to believe you, i am starting, after all those months, and i know, and i KNOW that the moment i do, i lose. the moment. i. truely. trust. your. words. you will fade away. i cannot believe your story. i cannot believe you love me this much. i cannot believe that you want to be with me, forge a life with me, be my lover, make this work, nurture me, cook for me. i cannot believe it when you say you want a little house with me. i cannot believe it when you say you are sad that i want to buy one without you. that was a LIE, for fucks, all i wanted was to be in your arms, i just knew the moment i submitted, the moment i reached up, hands in the air, surrendered, white flag, white flag, the story would end, and you would go, go to her, go to her and the lies you told me about loving me more than you could ever love another, and take her in your arms when you made me believe in you, reading to me, and now you read to her, and i cannot sleep, reading to me, telling me stories, telling me goddamn stories, and now i cannot sleep, and you read her stories, and you promised me. you promised me, and i got nothing. i get no stories. you won't even speak to me of anything let alone stories now.'
and you are gone, and i am on this couch, is it peach, is it pink, is it yellow..? oh god, i just close my eyes and feel the softness, i lean my head back when i sit up and close my eyes and if you walk into the room and see me sitting on your couch that is how i will be. my neck hooked over the back of the seat, the cushioned below me tainted, wrapped in a lime green or yellow faded blanket, stained, my eyes closed.
i am curled on your lap, body beside, more precise, head enfolded crossed legs. your hand strokes my head, running over stubble on my scalp, over my forehead (there is a furrow there that will get deeper as i age) and across my cheekbone, down to my jaw, and back again.
'i AM telling you a story!'
earnest expression.
'exchanging half remembered quotes is not a story,' i say, slightly smug, slightly sad, keeping it here, holding it close.
we have broken in, mid phrase, mid statement
it's like a radio, the constant static in the air as the connection moves between stations. softly
i thought it was you, but you'd lost the ability to write well.
but i sign my name, and i didn't know she liked winterson.
she doesn't, must have read it on my blog. sly laughter. sly laughter. i can hear it in the distance as they make love, and i am here on the couch, and you are telling me a story.
the couch is either lemon yellow, or pale lime. i cannot tell in the light, it is dim in here, and it flickers on and off, like a broken television.
'i could write essays, maybe? go back to uni, do a masters in obscure russian literature.'
'elizabeth, you don't know anything about russian literature.'
'it's making me hate being at work, him being there, her beside him a few levels away. he lied to me, you know. tell me a damn story.'
you tilt my chin up, and i look into your eyes for a moment and then look away, as mine fill with tears, run down my cheeks and salty tracks run into your fingers and i coil back around you like an oroborus, and my heart is my tail, and my mouth is my neck and my feet are my mouth.
you sigh.
'what about one about a princess who rides a pony to - '
'no. no fucking princesses. i cannot stand them.'
a pause. you know me well, and don't understand.
'why not?' a gentle soft question.
'i was once a princess and i couldn't get the kitten out of the tree. i had no magic, and he didn't realise, and i ... i couldn't get the kitten out of the tree. i wasn't his dream, you know. i wasn't his dream, and he thought i was, but that didn't make it real, and it's destined to keep happening, over and over, the story rewritten into this same ending.' i fall tighter on myself, my mouth inside my arms, over my neck, taking my skin into my liver, and trying to disappear when there is nowhere for my body to go.
you leave it. i don't know, it feels like you leave it because you don't care.
'well, what do you want a story about?'
'i want you to pick. i am scared, so scared, and i just got made into another midlife fantasy that faded rapidly out when reality touched me and turned me ugly in the face of age again, and i need to disappear in a story, just fucking tell me a fucking story.' i got quieter and quieter, the radio skipping again, i can hear a voice reading me 'waiting for godot' and i shudder and wrap my arms around my knees and put my head there. the music in the background is new order, temptation, and i never met anyone quite like you before, even if i am just your earworm now.
you pause, because you do not know what to say. your hand rests softly on my forehead (over that crease, oh god, why isn't it deeper, why did this stupid number steal this from me, this stupid lack of years all slipping back, i was nine when the x-files started. in year 4 at school. i was scared of nuclear bombs, and cried myself to sleep and was scared of the dark, while somewhere far away, a woman was pregnant with a child that one one day caused that 9 year old to change her phone number, because she, the nine year old, one day would fall in love with the father, a man from far away with an angry 15 year old who wants nothing more than to make people know how angry she is. however, i was 24, not 33, and thus, it was too hard, too hard, oh there were other reasons, so many, so many, but seeing that 3344together, reminding me of when i was 12, i was so alone, i wished i was older more than anything, i could talk to people who wouldn't laugh at my big words. and when i was 17, and my first boyfriend was 28, my heart broke because i was in a school uniform, and he had two kids. i just wanted to be in love like anyone else, you know, i just wanted to be allowed to love you and you MADE IT SO HARD just because of your time and my time and fine take her because she doesn't make you tired, because it is easy, want me to quote you, i can, you know, i can, i remembered everything because i fell down and NOW you are shying away from any love you ever had for me because i got harder, because you know how smart i am and how i flip words faster than you can form them and i scare you as well as make you tired.)
i whisper now, holding back tears.
'i am a monster, not a pony. i wreck families and lives, i tear them apart and then i get torn in turn. i make them leave their children. i make them leave their lovers. i make them i make them and then i get stood on as they run to something better. i'm the catalyst, i am the stepping stone, and then i get left behind now they are free, the crisis over, little starburst, little shiny star, oh you deserve better.'
'do you want a story?' you say.
'can you tell me a story?' i say.
'do you want me to tell me a story?' you say.
you look at me concerned. your skin is grey, fading in and out, because i cannot spin my words thick enough to make anyone real or to make anyone stay.
i pause, and admit, 'there is no substance to my stories anymore. i need someone else to tell me one for once. i suck at narrative. i just write well.'
you fade a little more, and i know i can't hold your plot together.
'you don't believe me anymore, do you mister? you don't believe in my magic.' i am sad because it is true and i know you would not admit it because you stole the magic away from me, that's why you don't want me, isn't it. you stole it and gave it to her.
'oh believe me, elizabeth. i'm telling you stories.'
and you are more transparent, and monaco plays, flickers over to internet refresh refresh, as i search for you in corners and spaces. what do you want from me? it's not how it used to be. you've taken my life away. ruining everything.
i don't know if that is about me, or about you, or about both of us.
it's me, i know, because your life is fine, with a darling heart, and arms and loving hearts around you. there is a scrap heap behind you that you want to forget about, you'll say sorry and try to fix it but i don't think you care because you are starting to get bored of me, bored of this ear worm, but not as bored of it as i am, oh god, you have no idea how much i wish this would stop ringing in my head. it softens you know, though, i think of Jule and he takes the pain away a little because, god, before you, i thought he was cruel.
i laugh and hiccup out a sob.
grey eyes, whatever colour they once had is gone, you fade a little more, you fade, i curl up more around myself, your hand slips over and through my face but you don't even see it.
'i can tell you a story,' you say, 'of a pile of bones. you hold one up, and realise it is the bone of your lover. you killed them. they were your mother and your child, your father, your aunt, your boss and your enemy. you made love to them, you killed them.'
i am not impressed with the pale and flaccid buddhist tale, and i tell you that.
you smile.
'oh trust me, elizabeth, i am telling you stories.'
i get more and more sad, as i lose you more and more, i lose you over and over again, passing through so many hands, so many hands, the crackles on the radio,
'but 15 years with her, i am not worth that, you'll forget me. you love her. i have nothing on that. she's enchanting, you are enchanted, she is enchanted. you are leaving that behind for me?'
flickers
'you left, you left your family for me?'
flickers
'you can't say it, you know you are more drawn to her type of madness. i can see it. stop telling me that you won't leave me because i am starting to believe you, i am starting, after all those months, and i know, and i KNOW that the moment i do, i lose. the moment. i. truely. trust. your. words. you will fade away. i cannot believe your story. i cannot believe you love me this much. i cannot believe that you want to be with me, forge a life with me, be my lover, make this work, nurture me, cook for me. i cannot believe it when you say you want a little house with me. i cannot believe it when you say you are sad that i want to buy one without you. that was a LIE, for fucks, all i wanted was to be in your arms, i just knew the moment i submitted, the moment i reached up, hands in the air, surrendered, white flag, white flag, the story would end, and you would go, go to her, go to her and the lies you told me about loving me more than you could ever love another, and take her in your arms when you made me believe in you, reading to me, and now you read to her, and i cannot sleep, reading to me, telling me stories, telling me goddamn stories, and now i cannot sleep, and you read her stories, and you promised me. you promised me, and i got nothing. i get no stories. you won't even speak to me of anything let alone stories now.'
and you are gone, and i am on this couch, is it peach, is it pink, is it yellow..? oh god, i just close my eyes and feel the softness, i lean my head back when i sit up and close my eyes and if you walk into the room and see me sitting on your couch that is how i will be. my neck hooked over the back of the seat, the cushioned below me tainted, wrapped in a lime green or yellow faded blanket, stained, my eyes closed.
oh when will it end...
this torrent of tedious blog posts...
generations to come will be utterly astounded by my emotionally verbal shits that i share with the world.
i grew up blogging. been doing it since i was 15 or so. it's how i rationalise things. it's how i think of diary keeping, the idea of the lock and key and secrets has never appealed to me. i am an open book, and i like being able to communicate well. it's something i view as a good thing, and blogging helps me know where i stand. turning off comments is good too, it means i can't whore it out to getting comments, and the only readers really are ones who are interested in voyeurism, which is something i wholeheartedly support, as a voyeur myself.
today i cut him out.
i need to, because he seems bored by my every word, or at least, unwilling to bother seeing me. when i do, he seems ok with seeing me, a little indifferent, but also kinda scared, slightly wary. why? because i have a capacity to hurt him maybe? i don't know why, but that is what loving someone is about - the fact that they can hurt you.
i read back to the last patch of misery, and i already see how far i come. it would have been basic for me to act like this again, and push it back. if, back then, i'd really expressed how angry and hurt i was at how he belittled me for thinking my face is ugly, and calling me selfish and being snide, or whatever, rather than just tip-toing, maybe i would have saved myself THIS, and he and M could have had their sunset then. or maybe that never would have happened, as well, ... actually, i Don't want to go into the delicacies of his relationship with her, as he retold it to me over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again... because if she comes across it, it's not fair on her. it's not fair for her to get trails of whatever he told me, because a lot of it was stuff that, if i knew my lover said behind my back, i would be utterly guttered.
this is another reason of anger. intense anger. and it is easy for me to blame her when she is not at blame. the one at blame is him. squarely. talking to him makes me want to wound him, using her.
ha. i realised that he once said that the only thing she could say that would hurt him was insulting me, and that is why she did it. he didn't seem wounded with me snarking her. mainly because i would halfway through often apologize rather than continuing? fuck only knows. if it continues to prove the theory that he ended it with me because he was too scared of how he felt, as well as the myriad of other things, well... it makes me angrier. if his love for me was so sacred, so amazing, so special, why not fight a little more? because he's scared of being old, scared of me hurting him, scared of hurting me, scared he cannot communicate, taking the easy option, the easy lover, the one that doesn't make him tired? maybe fear is behind it. indifference often is veiled fear, and his indifference tends to veil something else. and his indifference is one of the things that hurt me the most. not caring about me, not caring how i felt, what i did. 'i don't care if you leave me.' he told me that over and over again. how can anyone feel loved when the action of telling me that i could leave and he wouldn't care is there? it made me think he never cared. i know that is not true.
i deserve better in a partner, in a lover, in a friend. i deserve honesty, i deserve bravery, i deserve someone who will risk their heart. he risked and gave away so much for me, i know, i know. he felt a lot, i know, i know. but i need someone who will say 'if you leave me, my heart will break' if that is how they feel. not tell me they won't care. that hurt so much.
i want a friend who'll bother to call when i go two states away with a broken heart.
i want a friend who'll try and make time to see me.
i want a friend who can talk to me about something other than work.
i want friends whose lives i can engage with. until i am comfortable with the fact he is with m, i do not want to hear about it. i don't want nice stories of how they made love all night, or pie all night, or kissed in the moonlight, or went drain exploring. i don't want to know because He Gave Something He Promised To ME to someone else. he took it back and gave it to her, and i don't fucking want to know.
i'm going to do some exercise. either get a personal trainer, or go to yoga, or something. as my therapist said, there are four rules to ANGER.
1. be angry
2. be angry (the first rule is VERY important)
3. do not hurt yourself
4. do not hurt others.
so, i am thinking of ways of BEING ANGRY without hurting others. now, i have nothing new left to say to e. nothing else other than this earworm. so now, blog, you get the anger. i am feeding it into here. if i give it to him, it goes wrong, and turns into anger at things i am not angry at. i just lash out because i want to hurt him, so so badly. and the only way for me not to do that, is to not speak to him until i can not lash out. so he is blocked on work messenger. he name has 'DO NOT MESSAGE' next to it in my phone. any messages i leave in public are not openly aggressive. if i need to be angry, i will articulate it here. if i need to write down why i am angry about what he did with m, i will do it in my locked, lame LJ.
better.
exercise. dance. yoga. etal.
generations to come will be utterly astounded by my emotionally verbal shits that i share with the world.
i grew up blogging. been doing it since i was 15 or so. it's how i rationalise things. it's how i think of diary keeping, the idea of the lock and key and secrets has never appealed to me. i am an open book, and i like being able to communicate well. it's something i view as a good thing, and blogging helps me know where i stand. turning off comments is good too, it means i can't whore it out to getting comments, and the only readers really are ones who are interested in voyeurism, which is something i wholeheartedly support, as a voyeur myself.
today i cut him out.
i need to, because he seems bored by my every word, or at least, unwilling to bother seeing me. when i do, he seems ok with seeing me, a little indifferent, but also kinda scared, slightly wary. why? because i have a capacity to hurt him maybe? i don't know why, but that is what loving someone is about - the fact that they can hurt you.
i read back to the last patch of misery, and i already see how far i come. it would have been basic for me to act like this again, and push it back. if, back then, i'd really expressed how angry and hurt i was at how he belittled me for thinking my face is ugly, and calling me selfish and being snide, or whatever, rather than just tip-toing, maybe i would have saved myself THIS, and he and M could have had their sunset then. or maybe that never would have happened, as well, ... actually, i Don't want to go into the delicacies of his relationship with her, as he retold it to me over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again... because if she comes across it, it's not fair on her. it's not fair for her to get trails of whatever he told me, because a lot of it was stuff that, if i knew my lover said behind my back, i would be utterly guttered.
this is another reason of anger. intense anger. and it is easy for me to blame her when she is not at blame. the one at blame is him. squarely. talking to him makes me want to wound him, using her.
ha. i realised that he once said that the only thing she could say that would hurt him was insulting me, and that is why she did it. he didn't seem wounded with me snarking her. mainly because i would halfway through often apologize rather than continuing? fuck only knows. if it continues to prove the theory that he ended it with me because he was too scared of how he felt, as well as the myriad of other things, well... it makes me angrier. if his love for me was so sacred, so amazing, so special, why not fight a little more? because he's scared of being old, scared of me hurting him, scared of hurting me, scared he cannot communicate, taking the easy option, the easy lover, the one that doesn't make him tired? maybe fear is behind it. indifference often is veiled fear, and his indifference tends to veil something else. and his indifference is one of the things that hurt me the most. not caring about me, not caring how i felt, what i did. 'i don't care if you leave me.' he told me that over and over again. how can anyone feel loved when the action of telling me that i could leave and he wouldn't care is there? it made me think he never cared. i know that is not true.
i deserve better in a partner, in a lover, in a friend. i deserve honesty, i deserve bravery, i deserve someone who will risk their heart. he risked and gave away so much for me, i know, i know. he felt a lot, i know, i know. but i need someone who will say 'if you leave me, my heart will break' if that is how they feel. not tell me they won't care. that hurt so much.
i want a friend who'll bother to call when i go two states away with a broken heart.
i want a friend who'll try and make time to see me.
i want a friend who can talk to me about something other than work.
i want friends whose lives i can engage with. until i am comfortable with the fact he is with m, i do not want to hear about it. i don't want nice stories of how they made love all night, or pie all night, or kissed in the moonlight, or went drain exploring. i don't want to know because He Gave Something He Promised To ME to someone else. he took it back and gave it to her, and i don't fucking want to know.
i'm going to do some exercise. either get a personal trainer, or go to yoga, or something. as my therapist said, there are four rules to ANGER.
1. be angry
2. be angry (the first rule is VERY important)
3. do not hurt yourself
4. do not hurt others.
so, i am thinking of ways of BEING ANGRY without hurting others. now, i have nothing new left to say to e. nothing else other than this earworm. so now, blog, you get the anger. i am feeding it into here. if i give it to him, it goes wrong, and turns into anger at things i am not angry at. i just lash out because i want to hurt him, so so badly. and the only way for me not to do that, is to not speak to him until i can not lash out. so he is blocked on work messenger. he name has 'DO NOT MESSAGE' next to it in my phone. any messages i leave in public are not openly aggressive. if i need to be angry, i will articulate it here. if i need to write down why i am angry about what he did with m, i will do it in my locked, lame LJ.
better.
exercise. dance. yoga. etal.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
next steps
with sanity, comes sexdrive
comes thus, frustration.
oh well.
i ate pie today, and read more of 'middlesex'. lay in bed. napped. thought about things. realised that i need not like anyone by proxy, and can feel however i want to. one step further from the mania. one step at a time.
a part of me is filled with the desire to shove something in the gap as fast as possible. both physically, and emotionally. there is a space there. i feel unloved. there is a space there. i am not sure what happens next. there is a space there. i need to find Another, Another, Another to feel whole again. when i can see this is what i want to do, i can then consciously not do it because this is not the solution to a gap in my heart. i've got a space there, and my first desire was to place edgar back in there. love me again. be with me again. try to forget what fucked this up, try to pretend that this is what i wanted.
rather than realise i hurt because i feel alone, which has nothing to do with someone else, i felt inferior. i have nothing to prove because a man old enough to be my dad chooses to love someone closer to his age because it's a far more sensible option. of course i will be happier long term. of course i was being stupid. i mean, he lied to me, unintentionally. he promised he would always love me more than her, and would never leave me for her. he did this time and time again. and time and time again, i told him that he would leave me, and break my heart. i eventually believed him, after breaking up with him, because i felt so vulnerable that i was left relying on the old comfort of the stimulants that sex and love provide, rather than the calm logic that governed me, knowing her brand of madness was his type far more than my slow, stoic sensibility. he'd told me enough of his past for me to know that he would want to be with her, and that i almost can know that it will end as miserably as almost all of his other relationships have, with his interest slowly, than rapidly fading, and hers not.
he once told me 'i love you more than life itself, well, at least until you say something stupid, or you bore me. then, i'll never want to see you again.' he claims he was joking, and i actually do believe, weirdly enough, that his love for me IS the sort of love that won't be ended with a sly comment. but, by the same token, he wants a lover that will have a relationship end like that, when he gets bored, when she cannot wound him as i can, and cannot break his heart.
i look forward to getting bored of thinking about this, almost as much as i look forward to not being in love with him. it's boring me, the fact that my mind is in this dull little loop of self justification. but if i try and force sociability, it'll just hurt.
so i compromise, with movies and not bands. i don't beg for sex, i just ask, and am relatively indifferent if he won't give in (i mean, really, i can take care of myself.. .it's just the sex was incredible...). company that's non-threatening. i can deal with alone time now. i can deal with myself. i like myself. i don't want to be his girlfriend. at all. ever again, even slightly. but i still am in love with him.
an interesting mental position.
i imagine that if our ages had us closer things would be different. but, his age isn't my problem, it's his retarded inability to know not to make OVERARCHING promises about things he cannot keep, or the lies he tells himself. he may be old enough to be my father, but a lot of the time, i felt like he was the spoiled child, and i, the longsuffering, frustrated parent, annoyed that he could not even say how he felt. i think it is a generational thing, and honestly, i prefer men who can be MEN about their emotions, and not little boys.
not that i don't love him, all the same. just feel ruefully frustrated at him, fondly, hair ruffle, roll eyes, silly thing...
blogs are good. i scream at the sky and no one is listening. or maybe they are, but i keep the comments off in case of abuse from e's kids. though, kids, you got yourself a NEW lady to do that to, one who i hope has been forewarned of the angry teens wanting to rip out your eyes due to the fact you are fucking their dad. *sad smile* hope you deal with that ok, or that at least neither of them get your number, or level abuse at you. it kinda sucks.
comes thus, frustration.
oh well.
i ate pie today, and read more of 'middlesex'. lay in bed. napped. thought about things. realised that i need not like anyone by proxy, and can feel however i want to. one step further from the mania. one step at a time.
a part of me is filled with the desire to shove something in the gap as fast as possible. both physically, and emotionally. there is a space there. i feel unloved. there is a space there. i am not sure what happens next. there is a space there. i need to find Another, Another, Another to feel whole again. when i can see this is what i want to do, i can then consciously not do it because this is not the solution to a gap in my heart. i've got a space there, and my first desire was to place edgar back in there. love me again. be with me again. try to forget what fucked this up, try to pretend that this is what i wanted.
rather than realise i hurt because i feel alone, which has nothing to do with someone else, i felt inferior. i have nothing to prove because a man old enough to be my dad chooses to love someone closer to his age because it's a far more sensible option. of course i will be happier long term. of course i was being stupid. i mean, he lied to me, unintentionally. he promised he would always love me more than her, and would never leave me for her. he did this time and time again. and time and time again, i told him that he would leave me, and break my heart. i eventually believed him, after breaking up with him, because i felt so vulnerable that i was left relying on the old comfort of the stimulants that sex and love provide, rather than the calm logic that governed me, knowing her brand of madness was his type far more than my slow, stoic sensibility. he'd told me enough of his past for me to know that he would want to be with her, and that i almost can know that it will end as miserably as almost all of his other relationships have, with his interest slowly, than rapidly fading, and hers not.
he once told me 'i love you more than life itself, well, at least until you say something stupid, or you bore me. then, i'll never want to see you again.' he claims he was joking, and i actually do believe, weirdly enough, that his love for me IS the sort of love that won't be ended with a sly comment. but, by the same token, he wants a lover that will have a relationship end like that, when he gets bored, when she cannot wound him as i can, and cannot break his heart.
i look forward to getting bored of thinking about this, almost as much as i look forward to not being in love with him. it's boring me, the fact that my mind is in this dull little loop of self justification. but if i try and force sociability, it'll just hurt.
so i compromise, with movies and not bands. i don't beg for sex, i just ask, and am relatively indifferent if he won't give in (i mean, really, i can take care of myself.. .it's just the sex was incredible...). company that's non-threatening. i can deal with alone time now. i can deal with myself. i like myself. i don't want to be his girlfriend. at all. ever again, even slightly. but i still am in love with him.
an interesting mental position.
i imagine that if our ages had us closer things would be different. but, his age isn't my problem, it's his retarded inability to know not to make OVERARCHING promises about things he cannot keep, or the lies he tells himself. he may be old enough to be my father, but a lot of the time, i felt like he was the spoiled child, and i, the longsuffering, frustrated parent, annoyed that he could not even say how he felt. i think it is a generational thing, and honestly, i prefer men who can be MEN about their emotions, and not little boys.
not that i don't love him, all the same. just feel ruefully frustrated at him, fondly, hair ruffle, roll eyes, silly thing...
blogs are good. i scream at the sky and no one is listening. or maybe they are, but i keep the comments off in case of abuse from e's kids. though, kids, you got yourself a NEW lady to do that to, one who i hope has been forewarned of the angry teens wanting to rip out your eyes due to the fact you are fucking their dad. *sad smile* hope you deal with that ok, or that at least neither of them get your number, or level abuse at you. it kinda sucks.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
late late
i find it interesting how i fluctuate around, from fine to not fine to fine again.
what i wish is that i could have broken up with e name removed by a subtle request - he didn't tell me to remove it, he said he didn't care, but the number of times he has said he doesn't care about things he cares about... well.. fuck. it's a lot , without there being someone else in the sidelines. i could totally cope with the end of a relationship, that really was not working. and that could not be fixed. there were SO many reasons i ended it with him, and it should have STAYED ended. that's my other regret. why did i sleep with him again? well, i know why. the amazing sex of awesome. sigh. obviously. but still. my mind was made up.
but seeing him run to someone else, to have someone else there to be with, while i am ALONE... hurts. realistically, it is better for me. it is FAR better for me, than for him, because i can process my feelings without having a relationship going on. i can deal with it. i can process, and rebuild and grow. it is not that i am jealous of her getting him, when i am honest with myself. it's that i am jealous of HIM having someone to hold, and someone to love, and knowing that it is possible to fall in love again. that's the bit i am hating. that feeling like i will NEVER love another human being again.
oh silly little brain, you know you will! you know that somewhere, just around a little tiny corner, you'll find someone who you'll want to have your heart. you won't make them tired, or scared of how they feel. they will be brave like you are. you will stand up at the sky, and open your arms, and breathe it all in. you'll need some time alone, little elizabeth, to pull back and feel ok again. you'll need to learn that you don't need a lover to be happy. (you know this!). you need to remember how to love someone properly. you need to work out if you want monogamy or not (i think, i think i do now.. after this.. Foul foul failure of an exercise...) you need to have baths. you need to feel strong and untouchable, and worthy of love. you have a lot of these things.
i love him, and i felt it is stupid to throw it away over nothing. but this is because i wanted to pretend the reasons for breaking up that he gave me, stumblingly, in the way he communicates when on the spot, are the reasons. i need to remember the story he wrote. the poem. the articulation in art, not in the crude light of day which he cannot do well. and i need to remember Strong Elizabeth, who broke up with him because she was unhappy, it was unfixable, and she knew, knew, KNEW it was the right thing to do. i don't know why i keep wanting to beg him to love me again. he DOES love me. i keep harping on the fact that he picked her. that's NOT the case. he ended up with her because our relationship was over, and he was in love with her too. he didn't PICK her. our relationship would have failed with or Without her there.
sense clicks in, and finally remembers something...? elizabeth, remember when you broke up with lachlan? and then dated henry? you DIDN'T PICK HENRY OVER LACHLAN!!!! your relationship with lachlan was over. you did NOT love henry more- you loved Lachlan far more. you just wanted to date him at the same time your relationship with lachlan ended/changed. good work!
i can See this. i don't GET why i am so hung up. maybe because i am letting myself feel it? maybe because i actually don't want to go back to him, i don't have anything to lose by being a tard? maybe because i hate being rejected and it swings me back to jule, and to jordie, and to brent, and to hannah and to all the others that i was not 'enough' for... i just...
i think realising that i actually DO get it, heh... (remember the Henry time? remember? yes!) will help. yes. it has. i feel so silly for only just remembering it now. *snorts* and now, this time on, who do i speak to once a week? the guy i made out with while with lachlan, and i dated when we broke up? or, lachlan, my best friend, who came down to stay with me when i moved interstate? who i can tell anything? who i love more than life itself? who's girlfriend i love almost as much as i love him?
yes. obvious.
i just want a cuddle, i think, and this makes me irrational. hehehehe. ah, little me. silly little me. i feel fond, and loving towards myself, for being so hurt and so wounded over something so easy to understand if i had just thought about it like this...
what i wish is that i could have broken up with e name removed by a subtle request - he didn't tell me to remove it, he said he didn't care, but the number of times he has said he doesn't care about things he cares about... well.. fuck. it's a lot , without there being someone else in the sidelines. i could totally cope with the end of a relationship, that really was not working. and that could not be fixed. there were SO many reasons i ended it with him, and it should have STAYED ended. that's my other regret. why did i sleep with him again? well, i know why. the amazing sex of awesome. sigh. obviously. but still. my mind was made up.
but seeing him run to someone else, to have someone else there to be with, while i am ALONE... hurts. realistically, it is better for me. it is FAR better for me, than for him, because i can process my feelings without having a relationship going on. i can deal with it. i can process, and rebuild and grow. it is not that i am jealous of her getting him, when i am honest with myself. it's that i am jealous of HIM having someone to hold, and someone to love, and knowing that it is possible to fall in love again. that's the bit i am hating. that feeling like i will NEVER love another human being again.
oh silly little brain, you know you will! you know that somewhere, just around a little tiny corner, you'll find someone who you'll want to have your heart. you won't make them tired, or scared of how they feel. they will be brave like you are. you will stand up at the sky, and open your arms, and breathe it all in. you'll need some time alone, little elizabeth, to pull back and feel ok again. you'll need to learn that you don't need a lover to be happy. (you know this!). you need to remember how to love someone properly. you need to work out if you want monogamy or not (i think, i think i do now.. after this.. Foul foul failure of an exercise...) you need to have baths. you need to feel strong and untouchable, and worthy of love. you have a lot of these things.
i love him, and i felt it is stupid to throw it away over nothing. but this is because i wanted to pretend the reasons for breaking up that he gave me, stumblingly, in the way he communicates when on the spot, are the reasons. i need to remember the story he wrote. the poem. the articulation in art, not in the crude light of day which he cannot do well. and i need to remember Strong Elizabeth, who broke up with him because she was unhappy, it was unfixable, and she knew, knew, KNEW it was the right thing to do. i don't know why i keep wanting to beg him to love me again. he DOES love me. i keep harping on the fact that he picked her. that's NOT the case. he ended up with her because our relationship was over, and he was in love with her too. he didn't PICK her. our relationship would have failed with or Without her there.
sense clicks in, and finally remembers something...? elizabeth, remember when you broke up with lachlan? and then dated henry? you DIDN'T PICK HENRY OVER LACHLAN!!!! your relationship with lachlan was over. you did NOT love henry more- you loved Lachlan far more. you just wanted to date him at the same time your relationship with lachlan ended/changed. good work!
i can See this. i don't GET why i am so hung up. maybe because i am letting myself feel it? maybe because i actually don't want to go back to him, i don't have anything to lose by being a tard? maybe because i hate being rejected and it swings me back to jule, and to jordie, and to brent, and to hannah and to all the others that i was not 'enough' for... i just...
i think realising that i actually DO get it, heh... (remember the Henry time? remember? yes!) will help. yes. it has. i feel so silly for only just remembering it now. *snorts* and now, this time on, who do i speak to once a week? the guy i made out with while with lachlan, and i dated when we broke up? or, lachlan, my best friend, who came down to stay with me when i moved interstate? who i can tell anything? who i love more than life itself? who's girlfriend i love almost as much as i love him?
yes. obvious.
i just want a cuddle, i think, and this makes me irrational. hehehehe. ah, little me. silly little me. i feel fond, and loving towards myself, for being so hurt and so wounded over something so easy to understand if i had just thought about it like this...
Thursday, March 12, 2009
no children.
(that is the title of a mountain goats song, my good friends).
LIST TIME!
1. little bunny had worked out how to get off my bed. this is challenging as now he views my room as ONE HUGE LITTER TRAY and i can't let him run around as much. sigh.
2. today, i finally admitted i thought i might be immaculately pregnant (being, of course, a woman of refined purity....). so i pissed on the little stick, and i only got one line, and thus, am NOT with child.
thank
fucking
GOD
for that.
this also snapped me out of my demented moping. i realised that i WANT to have children one day. very very much. if i don't, i'll not feel like a failure. but i deeply want to. however. i want to have them with someone i know will be there for me, as a partner. someone who i can be with, who helps me be independent, who i love and care for, and who loves and cares for me. right now, i do not have that. i would have been living alone, pregnant, giving birth alone, and raising the child with someone else, yes, but not a lover, not a partner, but someone who i knew i did NOT want to be with, and did not want to be with me. it would have hurt me. and it would have DEEPLY hurt the father's partner. shattered her. it would have been a disaster. it would have thrown everything i wanted out of my life into disorder and pain. and he and i would be linked together until we both died, through our child.
i realised that strangely, i didn't even have a hint of regret when the little second pink line didn't come up. i was expecting some mild 'oh. i like babies...' but nothing. just elated relief. utter, total, complete relief. a small, i wonder what having a small person will be like. but SO GLAD i am not doing it yet.
if i was with someone, it would have been completely different. i know i would have been on edge, a bit scared, a bit excited, and i would have had their hand to hold as together, we watched the lines come up. and we'd look at each other after the three minutes were over, and smile at each other, either out of relief, (thank GOD not now) or a fearful excitement... rather, i went to a public toilet, held a stick under my stream of urine, and sat there, watching the lines come up, and squinting under flurescent lighting to see if there was one or two. my friend winnie checked it. there was one. we threw it out, she gently squeezed my arm, and we walked out of the toilets. that's not how i want to know if i am pregnant. that is not how i want to have a child. that is not how i want my life. and if it happens out of order, or messily, i will deal. but i just Hope to god it won't.
3. i remembered why i broke up with him. and that it was a good idea. and i tried to work out why i changed my mind. and i realised that i DIDN"T change my mind. i thought we could work things out, begin a NEW relationship no longer plagued by all the old bullshit. it was too late for that. it was far too late, and it was not right. he is not right to be my partner. i am not right to be his partner. it's as simple as that. neither of us bad people, neither of us intentionally cruel, it just Could Not Work Out, because we go about things far too differently. the end.
i changed my mind because the Work Incident (which is not worth going into, due to its retardation) reduced me to a trembling, scared little child, who just wanted someone to cling to. uni, the same. i didn't WANT to be alone. i wanted back, i wanted safe, i wanted to hide, i wanted ARMS to hug me, and someone to tell me it would all be ok. i crumbled, fell to the person i loved, and wham. we made love. it seemed like a wise idea. it was stupid.
he was right to end it again - re-establish the fact we should not be together.
4. something BROKE my brain over this though, and rendered me useless. i have no idea what happened to me. it was scary, how fast and sudden this OTHER came over me. i've never been so overwhelmed by anything in my life. never so broken. it was... demented. his behaviour did NOT warrant such hysteria. i do not understand. i feel very stupid about it, but also understand that, well, these things happen. i felt a lot of pain, and that seemed to be a good outlet for it. and then, like clouds, it passed and the sun came out, and i feel alive and right and good again. i feel like 'take on the world' elizabeth again. i could not think rationally. i could not pause and see how stupid i was being. i could not see that this would not even achieve ANYTHING, not even make me feel better. but, then again, i let myself feel it. maybe,that is just how i feel pain, and because i have spent so long not letting my heart feel properly, that when i did let go, it was monumental, and letting go a lot of anger and pain from a lot of other places. i don't know, honestly. but it was the strongest, overwhelming onslaught of emotions i've ever been staggered by. it was... actually a good thing. i have come out of it feeling as though i am alive. well alive. not depressed or overwhelmed anymore, but able to deal with feeling horrible, and knowing what to do, and knowing how to LET myself feel so much pain that i didn't know how i would breathe, but then, i did, and i did, and i did. and now, it has faded back, and i can breathe and it is sweet and wonderful, and the world awaits me, and slowly slowly, i will make this beautiful again.
LIST TIME!
1. little bunny had worked out how to get off my bed. this is challenging as now he views my room as ONE HUGE LITTER TRAY and i can't let him run around as much. sigh.
2. today, i finally admitted i thought i might be immaculately pregnant (being, of course, a woman of refined purity....). so i pissed on the little stick, and i only got one line, and thus, am NOT with child.
thank
fucking
GOD
for that.
this also snapped me out of my demented moping. i realised that i WANT to have children one day. very very much. if i don't, i'll not feel like a failure. but i deeply want to. however. i want to have them with someone i know will be there for me, as a partner. someone who i can be with, who helps me be independent, who i love and care for, and who loves and cares for me. right now, i do not have that. i would have been living alone, pregnant, giving birth alone, and raising the child with someone else, yes, but not a lover, not a partner, but someone who i knew i did NOT want to be with, and did not want to be with me. it would have hurt me. and it would have DEEPLY hurt the father's partner. shattered her. it would have been a disaster. it would have thrown everything i wanted out of my life into disorder and pain. and he and i would be linked together until we both died, through our child.
i realised that strangely, i didn't even have a hint of regret when the little second pink line didn't come up. i was expecting some mild 'oh. i like babies...' but nothing. just elated relief. utter, total, complete relief. a small, i wonder what having a small person will be like. but SO GLAD i am not doing it yet.
if i was with someone, it would have been completely different. i know i would have been on edge, a bit scared, a bit excited, and i would have had their hand to hold as together, we watched the lines come up. and we'd look at each other after the three minutes were over, and smile at each other, either out of relief, (thank GOD not now) or a fearful excitement... rather, i went to a public toilet, held a stick under my stream of urine, and sat there, watching the lines come up, and squinting under flurescent lighting to see if there was one or two. my friend winnie checked it. there was one. we threw it out, she gently squeezed my arm, and we walked out of the toilets. that's not how i want to know if i am pregnant. that is not how i want to have a child. that is not how i want my life. and if it happens out of order, or messily, i will deal. but i just Hope to god it won't.
3. i remembered why i broke up with him. and that it was a good idea. and i tried to work out why i changed my mind. and i realised that i DIDN"T change my mind. i thought we could work things out, begin a NEW relationship no longer plagued by all the old bullshit. it was too late for that. it was far too late, and it was not right. he is not right to be my partner. i am not right to be his partner. it's as simple as that. neither of us bad people, neither of us intentionally cruel, it just Could Not Work Out, because we go about things far too differently. the end.
i changed my mind because the Work Incident (which is not worth going into, due to its retardation) reduced me to a trembling, scared little child, who just wanted someone to cling to. uni, the same. i didn't WANT to be alone. i wanted back, i wanted safe, i wanted to hide, i wanted ARMS to hug me, and someone to tell me it would all be ok. i crumbled, fell to the person i loved, and wham. we made love. it seemed like a wise idea. it was stupid.
he was right to end it again - re-establish the fact we should not be together.
4. something BROKE my brain over this though, and rendered me useless. i have no idea what happened to me. it was scary, how fast and sudden this OTHER came over me. i've never been so overwhelmed by anything in my life. never so broken. it was... demented. his behaviour did NOT warrant such hysteria. i do not understand. i feel very stupid about it, but also understand that, well, these things happen. i felt a lot of pain, and that seemed to be a good outlet for it. and then, like clouds, it passed and the sun came out, and i feel alive and right and good again. i feel like 'take on the world' elizabeth again. i could not think rationally. i could not pause and see how stupid i was being. i could not see that this would not even achieve ANYTHING, not even make me feel better. but, then again, i let myself feel it. maybe,that is just how i feel pain, and because i have spent so long not letting my heart feel properly, that when i did let go, it was monumental, and letting go a lot of anger and pain from a lot of other places. i don't know, honestly. but it was the strongest, overwhelming onslaught of emotions i've ever been staggered by. it was... actually a good thing. i have come out of it feeling as though i am alive. well alive. not depressed or overwhelmed anymore, but able to deal with feeling horrible, and knowing what to do, and knowing how to LET myself feel so much pain that i didn't know how i would breathe, but then, i did, and i did, and i did. and now, it has faded back, and i can breathe and it is sweet and wonderful, and the world awaits me, and slowly slowly, i will make this beautiful again.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
increased rationality
i am back in canberra. nemo said i looked calmer and more at peace. i guess that is how i feel.
my friends in brisbane, and in canberra, are incredible. i am very grateful for the wonderful people i have in my life, who love me, care for me, call me, look after me, and i know will be there for me when things get shit, no matter what. for this alone, i now know i am an amazingly fortunate person.
i miss my rabbits.
i am more solidly resolved.
i've been through a lot. a stage of wanting to bribe you with children (you know, ha, stupidly, i thought you meant it, i thought you really did want to have children with me, and i was excited that one day this would happen.) i'm slowly discarding all the dreams i had of being with you, of a house together, of meeting your family, you meeting mine (proxy friend-family, and sister), of doing paintings for your walls, of travelling to europe (ha, that one was almost a given in my mind, cemented as fairly relatively soon, i was even saving for it, stupid me), of even little things like exploring drains and urban sites, of more hours spent in your apartment, making love and holding hands. of one day, you driving me to work every day, of so many more times of you cupping my face in your hands and saying you loved me. i know a lot of these things would not have been easy, and i was prepared for the struggle.
until i realised you never actually, in reality, saw us staying together. as much as you said you could see me in your world, you actually couldn't. and then, you threw it all away, all those words, all those dreams, all those hopes. you want to live this out with someone else now, even if you say things like 'i cannot see M in my life like i can see you. ' or 'm only wants to live in a fantasy land, not reality. it won't last'. oh you said that. you also said you would Never leave me for her, and that your feelings about me never changed. so i trust nothing now.
i feel mostly angry at myself, because i knew for a long long time that things would end like this. you repeatedly, veiledly, told me so. and i, at one, stupid point, stopped thinking this was the case, and no, actually, i could trust you, and maybe we could start building a life together. not forever, not anything like that. but think about things we might want to do together later. next week. month. year. shared dreams.
i have lost them, and that makes me very very sad. but i will move on now.
but. i will not be made happier again. i come out of all this jaded, less trusting, and very very hurt. you never even wanted to call me when i was in brisbane. you couldn't even say anything other than 'oh i hurt you' to my email where i talked about why you did. you have not tried to face up to anything. i feel guttered by you. i have not been set free, i've been badly, badly wounded. i will heal, it will scar, but i will not forget what you did. i don't know totally what my heart will do in the future (see, i'm not CLAIMING any bullshit about ALWAYS LOVING YOU FOREVER MORE THAN HER BECAUSE YOU ARE SO GREAT AND SHE IS LAME, i am honest enough to admit i do not know...) but right now, i am starting to see the feelings fade. i am less inclined to beg at you, or weep, or plead for you babies. i have no pride. it's a stupid, weak thing, pride. i am honest. and i have no shame in that. i was hurt, and i needed to get it out however i could, and when you refused to talk to me, i just sent texts. if you had bothered to properly respond, maybe i wouldn't have ranted. but mainly, i don't care.
when i say you sucked my brain out
the english translation
is i am in love with you
and it is no fun
but i don't use words like love
'cuz works like that don't matter
but don't look so offended
you know, you should be flattered
and i wake up in the night
in some big hotel bed
and my hands grope for the light
and my hands grope for my head
the world is my oyster
the road is my home
and i know that i'm better
off alone
dilate - ani difranco
especially better off alone if you couldn't even be bothered calling me.
my friends in brisbane, and in canberra, are incredible. i am very grateful for the wonderful people i have in my life, who love me, care for me, call me, look after me, and i know will be there for me when things get shit, no matter what. for this alone, i now know i am an amazingly fortunate person.
i miss my rabbits.
i am more solidly resolved.
i've been through a lot. a stage of wanting to bribe you with children (you know, ha, stupidly, i thought you meant it, i thought you really did want to have children with me, and i was excited that one day this would happen.) i'm slowly discarding all the dreams i had of being with you, of a house together, of meeting your family, you meeting mine (proxy friend-family, and sister), of doing paintings for your walls, of travelling to europe (ha, that one was almost a given in my mind, cemented as fairly relatively soon, i was even saving for it, stupid me), of even little things like exploring drains and urban sites, of more hours spent in your apartment, making love and holding hands. of one day, you driving me to work every day, of so many more times of you cupping my face in your hands and saying you loved me. i know a lot of these things would not have been easy, and i was prepared for the struggle.
until i realised you never actually, in reality, saw us staying together. as much as you said you could see me in your world, you actually couldn't. and then, you threw it all away, all those words, all those dreams, all those hopes. you want to live this out with someone else now, even if you say things like 'i cannot see M in my life like i can see you. ' or 'm only wants to live in a fantasy land, not reality. it won't last'. oh you said that. you also said you would Never leave me for her, and that your feelings about me never changed. so i trust nothing now.
i feel mostly angry at myself, because i knew for a long long time that things would end like this. you repeatedly, veiledly, told me so. and i, at one, stupid point, stopped thinking this was the case, and no, actually, i could trust you, and maybe we could start building a life together. not forever, not anything like that. but think about things we might want to do together later. next week. month. year. shared dreams.
i have lost them, and that makes me very very sad. but i will move on now.
but. i will not be made happier again. i come out of all this jaded, less trusting, and very very hurt. you never even wanted to call me when i was in brisbane. you couldn't even say anything other than 'oh i hurt you' to my email where i talked about why you did. you have not tried to face up to anything. i feel guttered by you. i have not been set free, i've been badly, badly wounded. i will heal, it will scar, but i will not forget what you did. i don't know totally what my heart will do in the future (see, i'm not CLAIMING any bullshit about ALWAYS LOVING YOU FOREVER MORE THAN HER BECAUSE YOU ARE SO GREAT AND SHE IS LAME, i am honest enough to admit i do not know...) but right now, i am starting to see the feelings fade. i am less inclined to beg at you, or weep, or plead for you babies. i have no pride. it's a stupid, weak thing, pride. i am honest. and i have no shame in that. i was hurt, and i needed to get it out however i could, and when you refused to talk to me, i just sent texts. if you had bothered to properly respond, maybe i wouldn't have ranted. but mainly, i don't care.
when i say you sucked my brain out
the english translation
is i am in love with you
and it is no fun
but i don't use words like love
'cuz works like that don't matter
but don't look so offended
you know, you should be flattered
and i wake up in the night
in some big hotel bed
and my hands grope for the light
and my hands grope for my head
the world is my oyster
the road is my home
and i know that i'm better
off alone
dilate - ani difranco
especially better off alone if you couldn't even be bothered calling me.
Friday, March 06, 2009
new and interesting
today, well, right now, i have a New Stage.
now, not only do i feel sick thinking of M, and her stupid habit of extrapolating on her relationship with you through her religion on facebook (it really isn't stupid, it's sort of cute, it's just that i hurt, you know)... but the realization that you ended it with me, in order to date her, is really really painful, in a sick, base of tummy way.
remember when you said that i was more clever, more attractive, more interesting, kinder, whatever? numerous statements, words to that effect. it's stinging more and more, the little repetition earworm of your regret and pain at breaking up with her and knowing you regretted that more than ending it with me... that strange sick feeling as you said you needed to resolve it with her, 'resolve'... i echo back to when you said that this was nothing more than a little glitch in our relationship. a bump. we were in this for the long haul. this was a week ago, e, a week ago. i hurt. a lot. this is hurting. i am less angry than i am just really hurting now, because what can you say? did you lie then, or have you changed your mind? or, despite the fact you think i am 'more' these things, you are less in love with me? or what? i don't get it. i DO not get it. i know you've explained it before. but i'm not angry right now, just really really sad and rejected. however you try and say 'well, i am MORE in love with you, but i am going to date HER,' it's going to sound like bullshit.
i feel like nothing. i feel like every pretty word you ever said was aimed at ... i don't know. i don't know. but that now, it's meaningless because despite all what you said, all the reassurance 'oh, it is different' that you don't want a relationship with me, but with her. you have, essentially, rejected me. totally. said, no, not you. i want her. not you. the action is more important than the words, and her joy over it is too much for me to bare, and i cannot think of seeing her, or the fact you are probably with her right now, with my little bunnies on her lap, the two of you cuddled up as i sit here, miserable and feeling like vomiting, a few states away.
that's really really really intensely painful.
she'll take you back. and you'll live out what we were going to do with her. she gets affectionate nicknames. and love, and hand holding, and lunch breaks, and i feel like all that has been stolen from under my feet, after you promised it all to me. you broke that promise something chronic. you took back all those words. and now, are you going to say those things to her? 'i love you more than elizabeth' 'you are so much more beautiful than her, so much more intelligent and funny and wonderful than elizabeth,' 'you are such a better lover,' etc? you can see how that runs around my head after having to live as the silent third party in your relationship with her for so so long.... this hurts, this hurts. this Hurts.
like i said, it's less anger now. it's a really profound sadness and sense of betrayal. that feeling of someone else being joyous at my misery, and thanking the universe for how unhappy i am. i hate this. i hate it. i don't hate you, but i look forward to the day i don't love you, and i can be rational, and see how much this has hurt me, and how horribly you have behaved, and that will make my heart move away from you, towards someone who will treat me with the respect i deserve.
do you know how belittling it is for me for you to say that you are stealing my youth? can't i decide what i want to do with my youth? i know you hate the age difference, and it makes you sad. is that the best reason to be falling in love with someone else, because they are 11 years younger and not 20? hey, i know there is more to it than that. but if i was 33? what then?
i just need to vent this out, because i am hurt now, and i know you won't reply to my texts because you are holding her, touching her, making her feel loved, while i cower in another city and cry myself to sleep again.
now, not only do i feel sick thinking of M, and her stupid habit of extrapolating on her relationship with you through her religion on facebook (it really isn't stupid, it's sort of cute, it's just that i hurt, you know)... but the realization that you ended it with me, in order to date her, is really really painful, in a sick, base of tummy way.
remember when you said that i was more clever, more attractive, more interesting, kinder, whatever? numerous statements, words to that effect. it's stinging more and more, the little repetition earworm of your regret and pain at breaking up with her and knowing you regretted that more than ending it with me... that strange sick feeling as you said you needed to resolve it with her, 'resolve'... i echo back to when you said that this was nothing more than a little glitch in our relationship. a bump. we were in this for the long haul. this was a week ago, e, a week ago. i hurt. a lot. this is hurting. i am less angry than i am just really hurting now, because what can you say? did you lie then, or have you changed your mind? or, despite the fact you think i am 'more' these things, you are less in love with me? or what? i don't get it. i DO not get it. i know you've explained it before. but i'm not angry right now, just really really sad and rejected. however you try and say 'well, i am MORE in love with you, but i am going to date HER,' it's going to sound like bullshit.
i feel like nothing. i feel like every pretty word you ever said was aimed at ... i don't know. i don't know. but that now, it's meaningless because despite all what you said, all the reassurance 'oh, it is different' that you don't want a relationship with me, but with her. you have, essentially, rejected me. totally. said, no, not you. i want her. not you. the action is more important than the words, and her joy over it is too much for me to bare, and i cannot think of seeing her, or the fact you are probably with her right now, with my little bunnies on her lap, the two of you cuddled up as i sit here, miserable and feeling like vomiting, a few states away.
that's really really really intensely painful.
she'll take you back. and you'll live out what we were going to do with her. she gets affectionate nicknames. and love, and hand holding, and lunch breaks, and i feel like all that has been stolen from under my feet, after you promised it all to me. you broke that promise something chronic. you took back all those words. and now, are you going to say those things to her? 'i love you more than elizabeth' 'you are so much more beautiful than her, so much more intelligent and funny and wonderful than elizabeth,' 'you are such a better lover,' etc? you can see how that runs around my head after having to live as the silent third party in your relationship with her for so so long.... this hurts, this hurts. this Hurts.
like i said, it's less anger now. it's a really profound sadness and sense of betrayal. that feeling of someone else being joyous at my misery, and thanking the universe for how unhappy i am. i hate this. i hate it. i don't hate you, but i look forward to the day i don't love you, and i can be rational, and see how much this has hurt me, and how horribly you have behaved, and that will make my heart move away from you, towards someone who will treat me with the respect i deserve.
do you know how belittling it is for me for you to say that you are stealing my youth? can't i decide what i want to do with my youth? i know you hate the age difference, and it makes you sad. is that the best reason to be falling in love with someone else, because they are 11 years younger and not 20? hey, i know there is more to it than that. but if i was 33? what then?
i just need to vent this out, because i am hurt now, and i know you won't reply to my texts because you are holding her, touching her, making her feel loved, while i cower in another city and cry myself to sleep again.
i ran away to brisbane...
and all you got was this lousy playlist.
1. independence day - ani difranco
"telling myself i was finally free,..."
2. 100,000 Fireflies - The Magnetic Fields
" you won't be happy with me,
but give me one more chance
you won't be happy anywhere.
why do we still live here,
in this repulsive town...? "
3. done wrong- ani difranco
"how can you do nothing and say 'i'm doing my best',
how can you take almost everything then come back for the rest?
how can you beg me to stay, reach out your hands and plead
then pack up your bags and run away as soon as i agree?"
it just all slips away so slowly
you don't even notice til you've lost the lot...
i am tired, i am broke i feel stupid and i feel used
and i am at the end of my little rope and i am swinging back and forth about you..."
4. I Know It's Over - The Smiths
"with your triumphs and your charms while they're in each other's arms
not for you my love, not tonight my love... love is natural and real... but not for such as you and i, my love.
obvious.
5. bodily - ani difranco
you broke me bodily the heartache the half of it and i'll never learn to laugh at it in my good natured way....
and i knew you'd be the death of me, so i guess that's the price i pay."
so i'm trying to make new memories in cities where we fell in love, my head just barely above the darkest waters i've ever known..."
and still i think i'd stoop for you, stoop for your eyes alone"
6. Temptation - New Order
we listened to this together so many times at your house. you said it was your favourite new order song. one of your favourite songs in general.
7. Babies - Pulp
you played this for me at ALIA, in the middle of the world, in the conference centre, red dusk rocks little wallabies up the grubs indian food starlit dancing, serious, oh so serious, little hand, little hand, swinging around, and around, and walking home and pausing, and that gap, that gap, oh that gap...
8. jack the ripper - Morrissey
i played it for you in the phoenix, you had never heard it before. i couldn't believe i could ever show you anything, teach you anything that you didn't already know, let alone about morrissey. one time, as we sat there, you asked me if i was embarrassed to have your arm around me, because you were 'so old'. i wanted to laugh and wanted to cry because you are so beautiful.
9. What do you want from me - Monaco
i once noticed you had a facebook status saying you were listening to Monaco, and this was the only song i could find of it. it makes me think of you.
10. Dilaudid - The Mountain Goats
'now you say you love me, pretty soon you won't...'
is also about driving.
11. Hounds of Love - kate bush
kate bush. self evident.
plus, once we had a discussion about the speed of little bunnies heart beat, and how it reminded you of a kate bush song. it was about the fox in the song.
12. Winter - Kristin Hersh
it's clashing and beautiful and cold, and makes me think of heartbreak.
13. Roberta C. - Casiotone For The Painfully Alone
"listless intellectual, in her prime
scrabble high score 409,
with nothing remarkable to leave behind...
a note on the bed reads
'true love is hard to find'"
14. Bluebird - Swan Lake
again, like 'winter' more about the music, the clashing and the falling.
15. Call It Off - Tegan and Sara
maybe i could have been something you'd be good at...
16. No Children - The Mountain Goats
angry and sad and falling-apart, and just that little bit funny as well.
17. I don't want to get over you - The Magnetic Fields
'i could make a career of being blue, dress in black and read camus
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth, like i was 17, it would be a scream"
18. Handsome Devil - The Smiths
i'll never forget the look on your face when i first showed you my tattoo. or the drawing you did of it the next day. or when you told me what your reaction to it was.
19. disintegration - the cure
goes in every sad-time playlist. it reminds me not of you, but of a montage of misery from years ago to now, from depressive episode to the next, of pushing metal into lightbulbs until it was hot, then pressing into skin, and watching skin bubble, of pain, of blood of distance of suffering, of physicality, of being of real of knowing something when everything else was taken away, of being unable to breathe, breathe breathe. but i survived. and i will survive this, easily.
20. origami - ani difranco
i am an all-powerful amazon warrior
1. independence day - ani difranco
"telling myself i was finally free,..."
2. 100,000 Fireflies - The Magnetic Fields
" you won't be happy with me,
but give me one more chance
you won't be happy anywhere.
why do we still live here,
in this repulsive town...? "
3. done wrong- ani difranco
"how can you do nothing and say 'i'm doing my best',
how can you take almost everything then come back for the rest?
how can you beg me to stay, reach out your hands and plead
then pack up your bags and run away as soon as i agree?"
it just all slips away so slowly
you don't even notice til you've lost the lot...
i am tired, i am broke i feel stupid and i feel used
and i am at the end of my little rope and i am swinging back and forth about you..."
4. I Know It's Over - The Smiths
"with your triumphs and your charms while they're in each other's arms
not for you my love, not tonight my love... love is natural and real... but not for such as you and i, my love.
obvious.
5. bodily - ani difranco
you broke me bodily the heartache the half of it and i'll never learn to laugh at it in my good natured way....
and i knew you'd be the death of me, so i guess that's the price i pay."
so i'm trying to make new memories in cities where we fell in love, my head just barely above the darkest waters i've ever known..."
and still i think i'd stoop for you, stoop for your eyes alone"
6. Temptation - New Order
we listened to this together so many times at your house. you said it was your favourite new order song. one of your favourite songs in general.
7. Babies - Pulp
you played this for me at ALIA, in the middle of the world, in the conference centre, red dusk rocks little wallabies up the grubs indian food starlit dancing, serious, oh so serious, little hand, little hand, swinging around, and around, and walking home and pausing, and that gap, that gap, oh that gap...
8. jack the ripper - Morrissey
i played it for you in the phoenix, you had never heard it before. i couldn't believe i could ever show you anything, teach you anything that you didn't already know, let alone about morrissey. one time, as we sat there, you asked me if i was embarrassed to have your arm around me, because you were 'so old'. i wanted to laugh and wanted to cry because you are so beautiful.
9. What do you want from me - Monaco
i once noticed you had a facebook status saying you were listening to Monaco, and this was the only song i could find of it. it makes me think of you.
10. Dilaudid - The Mountain Goats
'now you say you love me, pretty soon you won't...'
is also about driving.
11. Hounds of Love - kate bush
kate bush. self evident.
plus, once we had a discussion about the speed of little bunnies heart beat, and how it reminded you of a kate bush song. it was about the fox in the song.
12. Winter - Kristin Hersh
it's clashing and beautiful and cold, and makes me think of heartbreak.
13. Roberta C. - Casiotone For The Painfully Alone
"listless intellectual, in her prime
scrabble high score 409,
with nothing remarkable to leave behind...
a note on the bed reads
'true love is hard to find'"
14. Bluebird - Swan Lake
again, like 'winter' more about the music, the clashing and the falling.
15. Call It Off - Tegan and Sara
maybe i could have been something you'd be good at...
16. No Children - The Mountain Goats
angry and sad and falling-apart, and just that little bit funny as well.
17. I don't want to get over you - The Magnetic Fields
'i could make a career of being blue, dress in black and read camus
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth, like i was 17, it would be a scream"
18. Handsome Devil - The Smiths
i'll never forget the look on your face when i first showed you my tattoo. or the drawing you did of it the next day. or when you told me what your reaction to it was.
19. disintegration - the cure
goes in every sad-time playlist. it reminds me not of you, but of a montage of misery from years ago to now, from depressive episode to the next, of pushing metal into lightbulbs until it was hot, then pressing into skin, and watching skin bubble, of pain, of blood of distance of suffering, of physicality, of being of real of knowing something when everything else was taken away, of being unable to breathe, breathe breathe. but i survived. and i will survive this, easily.
20. origami - ani difranco
i am an all-powerful amazon warrior
Thursday, March 05, 2009
i was meaning to post this. before.
now, i feel i still need to.
" You had once asked me if i was afraid of dying.
I said I was afraid of not living.
I don't want to eke out my life like a resource in short supply. The only selfish life is a timid one. To hold back, to withdraw, to keep the best in reserve, both overvalues the self, and undervalues what the self is. "
Written on the body
Jeanette Winterson.
i want to repeat to myself that i should not hold back i should not hold back i should not hold back. even when you let go, hand slipping over hand, heart falling down cliff-face no return, no return, no return, even then, it is living, and it is feeling, and it is letting go of the self in order to find it. it is not worth regretting, but celebrating, because the pain makes us human, and is not always a bad thing, a bad sensation, but something engorging and heavy and overwhelming, but with a worthwhile, profound beauty to it, when the pain is caused by something wonderful ending.
" You had once asked me if i was afraid of dying.
I said I was afraid of not living.
I don't want to eke out my life like a resource in short supply. The only selfish life is a timid one. To hold back, to withdraw, to keep the best in reserve, both overvalues the self, and undervalues what the self is. "
Written on the body
Jeanette Winterson.
i want to repeat to myself that i should not hold back i should not hold back i should not hold back. even when you let go, hand slipping over hand, heart falling down cliff-face no return, no return, no return, even then, it is living, and it is feeling, and it is letting go of the self in order to find it. it is not worth regretting, but celebrating, because the pain makes us human, and is not always a bad thing, a bad sensation, but something engorging and heavy and overwhelming, but with a worthwhile, profound beauty to it, when the pain is caused by something wonderful ending.
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