If you’re going through hell, keep going.
My greatest fear summed up:
That it will be my own insistence & insecurity because of how you make me feel with yours that makes you MAKE my greatest fear a reality. For example: if I’m not gonna trust you, might as well. My relationship/marriage to you represents the stringent architecture of your upbringing, and life and abuse. “Just fucking” and being around friends- you can be the real you- because they have no way of hurting you, and give you far less to lose.
It’s why since day one, since we’ve stepped this up from good friendship to something that’s supposed to be something so much better, and more powerful, and stronger- you’ve become less & less. And getting close to you is like the sun. It burns hotter & harder the closer you get until I’m nothing.
It’s not defending me that’s the whole point. You’re missing it. It’s YOU. Defending US. It should be you & I, one in the same. What petrifies me is just the fact that, well-intentioned or not- it was these people’s whose devices caused the damage we both now struggle against. Possibly for life. Your struggles are my own, Love. Sometimes more than they are even to you- because I have the ability to give you so much- and can often get little to nothing in return emotionally, spare ambivalence or rage.
I worry that you’re not ready to face them yet. You’re gaining the weapons, and you’re a quick learner. But I don’t know if you can even see or understand the battle for it. For your SELF. You’re NOT hollow. You’re YOU. And you do yourself so damn well- when you DO IT. That’s the woman I fell in love with, and who I married!
What are you even doing with all this time we aren’t connecting? Or who? Or with who? What are you thinking about?
This is our anthem. At least to me. For all this time we’ve been apart. I know I’ve never regretted wasting two full weekends with you any more than right now. I miss my BFFL. I just wanna have a romantic/emotional/sexual connection with her now- as my wife. The love of my life.
I’m done with regret. I’m done with the past. I’m done with repetition, and anxiety, and conflict between US. I won’t do it. Not “I can’t.” I WON’T.
Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck; some nights, I call it a draw
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle.
Some nights, I wish they’d just fall off.
But I still wake up,
I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for.
Oh-What do I stand for?
What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don’t know anymore….
This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?
Why don’t we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype - save that for the black and white.
I try twice as hard and I’m half as liked, but here they come again to jack my style.
That’s alright (that’s alright).
I found a martyr in my bed tonight.
Stops my bones from wondering just who I, who I, who I
a-a-a-am, oh who am I, m-mm, m-mm.
Well, some nights I wish that this all would end!
‘Cause I could use some friends for a change!
And some nights I’m scared you’ll forget me again!
Some nights I always win (I always win)
But I still wake up,
I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for.
Oh- What do I stand for?
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don’t know…
So this is it? I sold my soul for this?
Washed my hands of that for this?
I miss my mom and dad for this?
No. When I see stars, when I see stars, that’s all they are.
When I hear songs, they sound like this one: so come on.
Oh, come on. Oh, come on.
That is it, guys, that is all!
Five minutes in and I’m bored again
Ten years of this, I’m not sure if anybody understands
This one is not for the folks back home; I’m sorry to leave, mom, I had to go.
Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?
My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she called “love”
But when I look into my nephew’s eyes…
Man, you wouldn’t believe the most amazing things that can come from….
Some terrible lie.
The other night, you wouldn’t believe the dream I just had about you and me!
I called you up, but we’d both agree!
Post with 1 note
The point isn’t any one, particular, tangible thing. It’s an idea. It’s US.
I truly believe that the type of job we share, and the stress & the distance & hardship is 80% of the strain between us.
Was I being a callous dick? Yes- a little. Was I trying to be judgemental? No. I was being honest. Which- when it implies any sort of weakness or imperfection is met with hellstorm caliber fits of rage that only grow more impervious the harder I try. :-/
But apologies can’t always be followed by an addendum. I’m tired of being the only one who can be totally sorry- and have words, actions & meaning behind it that can fully, and emphatically back my apology.
“When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself.”-Wayne Dyer
I get this. And I get the expectation that I can be above those who judge me, and give them a chance to get to know me- and SEE. I appreciate the affirmation that I can be deeply, and angrily hurt by such harsh judgement brought on out of nothing but hubris & bigotry. Not even GOOD judgement- like learning not to touch a hot stove.
But what strikes at me is the fear. Fear of being enamored, and emotionally shackled to those who put us in this predicament in the first place. Who from day one, for the majority of her life so far have damaged her so badly. And made the simple act of being herself such a monumental task it is. I understand it- and I try, I really try to be patient, and I fail a lot. But I try. Just as hard as she does- and it shows in both of us. But fear- fear that she isn’t ready to face them until she can stand not only for herself, but stand up for me, and what she feels & believes in…. her truth. That fear is paralyzing.
I know she never checks Tumblr. So I feel free to write this here. And I hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. I miss her, and am sick of being cold, and bored when I’m not busy with some lame task on this prison keeping me away from home for the precious last weeks for a while when we’d have free time that aligns.
I just want to be home. But it all makes no difference- it’s literally neither here nor there when she can’t display ANY other emotion quite so stunningly as she shows anger. If only she were so fervent about passion, or REAL love, or sexuality. I wanna be into her. I wanna be into her like she’s into me- all under my skin, and integral to me. And while she’s an amazing recreational coordinator, she won’t allow herself to be the wife she can because at her core she still lives & breathes by fear of loss, and the threat of being hurt. But that’s life. She’ll never FEEL and react the way I can, and do with her- until she opens herself up to that. :-(
She would never read this in a million years anyway, because it’s too long and tedious. My bemused rantings. The lonely ranting of an emotionally-starved love whore for her. This ring on my finger the final shackle I will ever wear- to the greatest, most worthy heart I have ever known. <3
I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m going to spend the REST of my life doing this toxic waltz with her. Never breaking free of it- and always relapsing. Not for lack of faith in her, but for worry that she’ll never understand in the first place how this keeps happening. Like I posted in a picture earlier today: her being the proverbial one I would take a bullet for, with her somehow always being the one holding the god damned gun. :-(
I just want to FEEL. To FEEL defended, and stood up for- like I do for her. I mean- I understand these people are family & friends. And I would never ask to her to choose between them & me, like they have so fervently in the past. I can understand every side of the picture, having spoken with her, and her uncle somewhat intimately. I get where everyone is coming from.
I just want to feel love, and lust, and passion- to have the kind of intimacy you see in a married couple, or ANY relationship really where the word “into” one another is quite literal, in a soul/physical sense.
I want to come home and dive into sex. Amazing, intense, passionate, no-explanation or build-up, or reconciliation-necessary sex. I want to know that I am on her mind the way she is mine when we are apart- and to be a part of her life via healthy & positive communication in spite of the time & distance apart without feeling like I am constantly coaching her to do all these things. She is her own person! And she needs to be that! It should be such a good, happy, liberating thing! But it’s always a task.
And the people from her life before, the ones who even guided her- though their intentions may be noble in their minds, were abusive & misleading oftentimes to the point that it has caused tremendous pain & suffering in our relationship, and a relentless agony between us because of it. :-(
I’ve said this all before a million times, in dozens of iterations.
I’m not perfect. By any stretch. And I am truly sorry for my fuck-ups, and for being a fuck-up. And I try. And I know she does, too. But when it comes to the core of all of this: how can she possibly try when she doesn’t understand. And this rant is all of that which continues to go misunderstood. She’d very possibly view this scientifically, or robotically as a list of things to fake, or impersonate, or fix as-if mechanically were she to stumble across it, God forbid.
I miss her, and I’m tired- and I want to go home. I want her. Badly. Her body, mind and soul. <3
And I want to go home, to home. To her.
This doesn’t make anyone else’s problems better. There’s always people worse off, but telling people their problems are nothing doesn’t do anything for them. Perspective is important, but making people feel like their problems aren’t important is just being a shitty person.
Jessie J - Who’s laughing now
“But thank you for the pain - It made me raise my game”
This is how I respond to criticism. Whether it’s constructive or bullying. And how the people I respect that gave me the strength to be this way did & do. Including, of course- the incredible singer lady.