Wednesday, June 29, 2005

11:32 p.m.

I don't know, do you?
I kept his photo by my monitor so I would see it every day. now I wonder if I should keep it hidden, if I have rushed things, if the reminder is unnecessary. I want an explanation for his lapse, I want a reason that I can hold on to. I want to feel that it isn't my fault, that I didn't bring this on myself.
I overreact when I'm tired. when I'm stressed. when I'm worried. when I'm PMSing. when I miss someone. when I don't know what to do.
I was beginning to know trust, and now it's gone again. I know I should withhold judgment until I get the story but it's hard to feel nothing given the past. I was fine with making all the first steps, but as soon as I was gone he stopped walking.
I should sleep on this. I already feel my defenses rising. is it really that easy? is anything easy? I wrote letters to remember but now I wish I'd never sent them. I hope these feelings reverse themselves, I hope my memories have been well-spent.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

09:29 a.m.

3, or 4 not-so-simple words
he says it in a rush, too quiet, too fast, as though he were afraid someone might overhear. or maybe he isn't sure he believes it yet. maybe he's waiting for me to hurt him, maybe he's waiting to hurt me again.
I told him it is ridiculous that people try to simplify such complex emotions. we try to make a personal feeling universal and it is never that way. it can't be -- the reactions vary too drastically.
I worry about trying to own him with my words but there is still this feeling of distance between us which is unrelated to miles. we are still holding back. I am waiting for him to meet someone else meanwhile I avoid other romantic opportunities. this happens. I am a two-relationship persyn. more than that and things get complicated.
my mind is wandering.
I wanted him to say it first, but then I thought maybe he couldn't say it at all. so now I'm somewhere in the middle and not sure of how to proceed. should I be quiet? should I speak up? should I just continue?
open and honest, self. open and honest.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

12:32 a.m.

this is where I stand
I hold within me the desire that you will someday be able to tell me what it is you think. that we will be better for having known each other; that you will become more open and I will pay more attention to the world around me. even now I ache to know what you know, it is a pain that follows me with each conversation. I wonder what you think, what lays beyond the sarcasm and the doubt. I want to know you.
I want these feelings to be reciprocated.
reciprocal and known.

Wednesday, June 8, 2005

05:52 p.m.

it's these moments that make us human
I whispered the truth to an empty room and the depth of it caught me off guard. tears came from nowhere and the ache to say these words, to tell you, to really tell anyone, overwhelmed me and for a moment I lost control.
composure is not easily won. I miss you and I don't know when I will see you again, but I will write you poetry in my head while we are apart. hopefully soon we will lay together with the way cleared between us, and the night will not be so oppressive and the sunlight not so daunting.
I am changing myself slowly so that I can survive in this world kept apart from the things that make my heart beat. away from that which moves me like few can.
words will endure.

Monday, May 30, 2005

01:52 p.m.

buttercup, princess of sweetness and cherry pie
you are gone now, but still here. I still feel you, I still taste you, and I can still smell you. you are here, you are all over me, like a film, like a second skin. if I close my eyes I can imagine you walking into the room to sit beside me on the bed and pull me down with you.
oh, and your voice. the sound of it vibrating through me and soothing me and touching me like no one else can. touching me where no one else ever has.
last night I nearly fell asleep with my head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat encompassing my world. when I rolled over and found my pillow suddenly everything was changed. my background was grey, your heartbeat gone. I hadn't even been aware of it while I was hearing it. I only felt its absence. the room seemed dampened somehow without its sound.
how much have I already forgotten? thum-thump. thum-thump. what will I mean to you in a week? thum-thump. thum-thump. did I make the right choice in withholding sex to keep from getting even more emotionally attached? thum-thump. thum-thump. stop.
even the most outright, honest answers seem shrouded in unspoken feelings. I felt the touch of decay this weekend, I felt the defensive detachment and I was saddened and afraid. I didn't want to lose you. I still don't.
all weekend the words "I love you" sang in my mind, in my heart, thrummed my entire body with it. but I could not say it. I wouldn't let myself because I was scared of the effect it would have on you.
because I knew you would not be able to return the sentiment.
and that is the hardest part. harder than the lack of money, harder than the distance, harder than the lack of communication. I desire reciprocation and I am not sure if you can provide it.
yet I love you all the same.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

11:25 p.m.

what is self-deprecation?
I guess it's dying again. occasionally the excitement flares up again, but for the most part it's flatlining.
the way I feel, it gets so possessive (over me, over him, over everything). it is so foolish and I know it. part of me wants the failure just so I can grow from it. part of me wants it to work so I can feel a little more fulfilled; so I have something to take my mind off things.
but it's ridiculous, oh so ridiculous. inertia can only carry me so far before I start drifting back again. maybe I'm never really sure where it is I stand. maybe I can't even see my own feet, let alone where they rest.
I don't know what love is anymore. it's been through so many incarnations I'm not sure what words to use.
or if I should even try to explain it at all.

Friday, May 20, 2005

02:34 p.m.

to feel
try to harness this feeling, make it last as long as possible. the elated sensation that I associate with whispery joy, the feeling of happiness destined to disappear.
how it fills me, it is what I've been missing. it is that drug to which I admit addiction, but deny dependency. it begs for overanalyzation to destroy it and I refuse.
I refuse, for now.

Monday, May 9, 2005

12:34 p.m.

fuck defense mechanisms
take a life time to build up your walls, take an afternoon to rip them down. examine the reasons behind neurosis and fear. it isn't making sense, but it's still going down.
oh, I get tired of sheltering myself. this is good sign, it means I have healed. healed enough to let someone (almost) new into the periphery of my life. handled like soap bubbles, delicate, forgetting that new ones can be made. forgetting to notice the beauty in the ephemeral. trying hard to cling to something destined to leave? why not just enjoy it for what it is, while it's there?
so I want to write again. I want to paint again. I want to draw again, and I even want to take pictures again. my superstitions have done nothing but stunted my growth (like they stunt the growth of everything they touch) and I don't want them anymore.
I had forgotten how good it feels when he touches me.

Monday, May 9, 2005

06:54 a.m.

let's name him passive-aggressive
there is a certain feeling I associate with him. it is unique to him, it is good and bad, it is beautiful and painful. shame, desire, anticipation, dread, excitement, innocence, corruption, love, hurt; all make butterflies when I think of him. all make butterflies when I remember him.
a touch I can barely recall. actions I can't forget. kissing, picking me up, carrying me, tickling; all done without ulterior motive. just like the way he ignored me. done, not thought.
oh, this feeling. this need. I hate it and crave it. it highlights the grey world with hues like a hand-coloured photograph. the rainbow in a downpour, the warmth in the cold night.
but how do I really feel? how much of this is just melodramatic crooning? how much is real? why can't I strip away the facade and just feel what I feel and not what I long to feel?
why can't we be honest with each other?

Thursday, May 5, 2005

11:40 p.m.

it invalidates nothing
I guess I'm going around in circles again (I'm so good at that). wondering again why I'm so easy to toss away, though the more time passes the more I understand. experience comes and shows me a mirror (never a look that's long enough to point out everything -- it's more like walking up to a mirror in the dark and staring at it until you're convinced you can see something that vaguely represents you) and I see how I am. briefly. and I put together another piece of the puzzle.
why can't I let go? well, why should I let them forget me? I haven't forgotten them.
not even when I try.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

01:27 p.m.

I am constantly learning
all I know is I don't want to think about you anymore. I don't want to be reminded of you, I don't want the students to come up to me and mention your name. I don't want to hear anything about you unless it is your voice saying it.
I feel like we broke up, like everything changed just because you said you were bi. I knew already, but for some reason you saying it meant that you could start acting differently.
I wasn't special anymore.
the image of you was shattered. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to think about you.

Thursday, March 10, 2005

11:45 a.m.

holocaust of the heart/mind functioning
the subjects of my flash-floods of picture taking always end up leaving me. my desire burns them up, and they were never what they seemed to be anyway. never as beautiful, never as honest (with me or themselves). they go back to bad habits or seem to think I was one.
they forget me in ways I've never been able to grasp. I am a footnote in their histories, if they even mention me at all. I am "somewhere in america" or "ex-girlfriend" or "friend in rhode island," maybe even just "someone." but was I really anyone at all? I mattered then, didn't I? why can't I still matter in retrospect? why must I be tossed aside like I was, and still am, nothing?
why can't I be mentioned too? why is the past so totally forgotten that it is not even worth recalling? isn't that how we repeat ourselves, by forgetting all that has happened?
I drew pictures, I loaned books, I gave hope, I formed external dreams, then I was left behind and forcibly forgotten.
I do not deny my past.
I have stopped taking photographs because I am scared that by the time the film is developed the subject will be gone. the pictures will be all I'll have left. I'll just put them in the box with the other people who deemed me inconvenient and moved on to better documenters.

Sunday, February 6, 2005

11:42 a.m.

foreknowledge of self-destruction
a day like any other. the snow is slowly melting and I am trying to forget my tangled dreams. undead werewolf lover, ex-boyfriend aged and stupid, inlaws, ex-coworkers confusing me, games that become life, chased with death, so many images. and now is the time when my suspicions become realised.
I made a mistake. and now there's nothing I can do about it but move on.
so welcome 2005. you are a blind and useless creature, full of false hope and poor advertising. at midnight I was ignoring you and I plan to continue the trend.
maybe this year I won't do the stupid things that hurt last year, and the year before, and the year before. maybe now I understand.

Saturday, January 1, 2005