08:14 p.m.

unanswered question
I was in love with you. I know you know it.
I know you know it because I told you.
now I have nothing from you, nothing but photographs, the majority of which aren't even very good. oh, and scattered drawings.
and a painting on the wall.
there's a flag in a box, it's been there since you gave it to me. I don't know what to do with it.
so I have nothing, and it feels like nothing too. it feels like nothing inside of me and looks like nothing when I hold it. you were so big to me, bigger than I think you understand, and now you're just ... well, you're a painting on the wall, some poorly composed photographs, and a flag I don't really want in a box in my bedroom.
maybe you're a story, too, and a lesson to be learned.
there are songs that scream your name, there are places that haunt me, but you are nothing now. you were tears and screaming and some panic attacks, but that's all gone.
you were so much more than you ever realised, now you're so much less than I ever thought you'd be. it hurts when I let myself remember, and I wonder how much longer I'll let this last.
we tire of circles these past and future months. once I longed to draw them all over you, but that was before I knew what deception really was. oh, that moral. oh, that story.
it was something beautiful, something seemingly innocent yet tainted. it was a reason. it was something to look forward to.
it's nothing now. you're nothing. and I wonder if I was ever really anything more than nothing to you.

Monday, October 4, 2004

08:38 p.m.

request
I used to pace these rooms, tortured by the thought of you. the month we were apart was a rollercoaster of joy and pain. it was months ago, but it is fresh in my mind. I wish I'd never had the dream that prompted me to reopen communication. I wish for a lot of things.
your experience dictates that you would understand, but if you understood, you would not have done this. you would not still be doing this. and I, well, I should not be doing this either. I'd think you were staying away for my good, but I know that isn't it. your shame and guilt keep you away from me. it has nothing to do with me.
it took five years for me to get over the last guy that fucked me so harshly. I do not want this to be on par with that.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

10:23 p.m.

a little more
laying on the docks, her hair almost brushing the water. she put a jellyfish in my hand and I was so distracted by her touch that I didn't realize what she was doing at first.
thinking of her smile as we lean on the boards, the sun irradescent on the jellyfish. she's so beautiful, I ache. when she laughs it makes whatever stupid thing I just did worthwhile.
I don't know what I see in her. I keep becoming attracted to people that are completely different from me. it is good, it opens my eyes to new things, but it also confuses the hell out of me. this is pointless. this is useless.
this is painful.

Friday, September 24, 2004

09:49 p.m.

extrapolation to a T
staring at the ceiling like I could find constellations. sometimes life feels like a movie and nothing is real, least of all my emotions. from a distance I hear myself recite lines about what I think of her. it's poetic, but is it true?
the jealousy says it is. my trembling does too. impossible love is the only kind I can get nowadays. maybe it's for the best.
her smile, though. it kills me. it stabs me. it is painful to be near her. every time she turns her attention to me, I blossom. there is nothing I can do but kill this off -- however, I've never had to do this with someone I work with daily. I don't even know how to start.
why do I crave complication? I must, otherwise these things wouldn't happen. hello frustration, my old friend. you have not been missed.

Friday, September 24, 2004

12:22 a.m.

quandry
I want to say you used to be the reason for so many things, but maybe you weren't. you were a reason to cry and a reason to laugh, something else to wake up for, something else to think about before I fell asleep. another dream, another regret, another thing to miss.
your originality lays in the extremes you took to lie to me and others you claimed you loved. then you changed your words when it was convenient. but the reasons, those other reasons, none of them were new to me. all had been felt before.
how do I forgive someone for myself? you don't deserve it, you don't seem to care. I deserve forgiveness. I deserve forgiving you, so I can move on and trust again.
I just don't know where to start. by remembering? by categorizing? by repetition until the words mean nothing? I wrote you letters but you didn't reply. does that mean I know where I stand? or is it even more confusing?
I would grasp onto anything that showed you still cared. I would say that it is possible to love more than one person at once; it is not necessary to pick and choose. so why did you? how can anyone know what is real when you keep changing the story?
if I had something concrete-
if I had something to hold onto-
if you'd told me the truth, the whole truth, just once-
oh, if I had anything from you-
maybe I could use that as a starting point. or maybe it would only make it worse. I have all these fragments, pieces that don't fit together. I mosaic them into a pattern that just doesn't work. over and over and over.
I miss you. I don't want to. the absence might make it harder, or it might make it better. I don't have much to compare it to.
I am waiting to cry over you for the last time.
I can almost feel the tears coming.
please help the rain storm on--
I think some good could come of it.

Saturday, September 18, 2004

09:07 p.m.

kitchen conversation
doing dishes. paraphrased. "I wish he knew how this felt, to be unable to trust anyone. not to never trust anyone, but to feel it taken away."
he touches my back. I'm startled. I hope he doesn't notice.
"I keep noticing that I'm clenching my teeth." time has taken on a different meaning since I loved that one. my period is about to start again -- that means it's been six weeks since I took him across the border to another new england state.
sometimes I am able to hate him because of how thoroughly tattered my sense of trust is now. I doubt a person I have loved for three years who has never, ever, ever given me any reason to do so.
there is nothing I want less at this point and time than another relationship. I thank that one for this feeling.
it doesn't even feel like a choice.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

02:50 p.m.

lamentations on the unlamentable
the taste of alcohol. not from my mouth, but his. it was the brand my dad used to drink. once when I was depressed and he was away, I stole one from his stash and tried to drink it. I only got a quarter of the way through before I decided it wasn't worth it.
but the taste on someone else's tongue doesn't bother me. I wanted so badly to feel the way I used to. it was there for a second, then fled. kissing once reached all parts of me, now I'm lucky to be moved at all.
so what was the point? ego boost? a twinge of lust turned into a night of sub-par expression? newness? control? I don't know. it was fun, but I don't know that I feel anything about it.
there's also the fact that if he lived around here I probably never would have done it. he knows it, too. mutual use.
at least we were honest with each other. sometimes that's worth the pointlessness.

Sunday, September 5, 2004

02:26 p.m.

... and then there were three.
another lie. another deception. a month ago it would have hurt but now it's just another fact to assimilate.
he warps the reality to make himself feel better-- "she knows I don't love her," even though I didn't know that when he was rolling down the condom.
the truth could have saved us. all that's left now is damage control.
I have been so battered by the situation that not much would effect me at this point. not even that he had sex with another american that visited him in may, which was the overlap of all three of our relationships with him.
he hasn't learned a thing.

Sunday, September 5, 2004

09:26 p.m.

short-sighted
you kept yourself so detached. I miss something about you, but I can't figure out what. it isn't your fake optimism, or the face you'd make when I said, "I love you." maybe it's laying on the futon together while we watched Scrubs, or falling asleep together on my bed in the midst of playing Full Throttle, or holding you in the morning, or the lankiness of your body, or the imperfections of your features, or the way you laughed, or the way we kissed, or the way I really believed you when you said you'd call and I'd see you again before you flew away.
maybe it's just the fact that you were here, and that was never enough but it seemed like it would be for a little while. something is still stuck inside me, and I don't know what to do. I thought it would be better this way. I didn't think I'd miss you like this.
sometimes I'm almost able to hate you. mostly because I know you want her and not me. I'm not sure what I was to you, but it saddens me that it wasn't worth it to you to fight for it.
I'm left with the ghost of an emotion that won't stop haunting me. what was real and what wasn't? my feelings were genuine, but what good do they do me now? heart ache to heart break in two easy steps -- you lied, then you left.

Saturday, August 28, 2004

06:35 p.m.

slightly better
I sang sad songs and you sang along. sometimes there's nothing to do but pretend to understand. the last year or three it's been so hard to focus, but you are my rock. you are my constant.
I'm sorry it seems like I'm always so distant. sometimes I'm not sure how to show how much I love you. you're the best thing that ever could have happened to me. no one else has been so patient or steady.
I know I spend a lot of energy and time on things that don't matter. people, and projects, and useless reminders. but you're always there in the back of mind, and it means a lot to me to know that you care.
you're the only thing that I can depend on. it's scary to me, but I'm glad you don't abuse it. thank you for all that you've done these past three years. I can't imagine how things would have been like without you.

Friday, August 20, 2004

11:09 a.m.

more of the ...
elaborate mind-fuckery. extensive plans. then in my mind, an idea.
fine tracery, like webbing, cracking, a fracture. spreads through my brain, infecting all it touches. let it grow, let it thrive, then pull it out.
throbbing. eyes swollen from nothing. illness. pain.
shaking in the shower, screaming at the wall, clawing at my skin. take it off. take it off. what makes me tick?
all is hear-say. heresy. made up dreams. my dreams. in love with someone that didn't really exist. an ideal that wasn't mine anyway.
I'd take it all back. I'd do it differently. I'd think. I'd react. and none of this would have come to pass. I would not have kissed him, I would not have held his hand, he would not have touched my neck, the nights would have been different, the mornings less painful. it would have been more real.
but I can't do that. it's too late. I worked with less than all the facts and I've paid. maybe he has too. he never says anything real. keep things on the surface, it's safer that way. but I've given too much of myself to him already, I can't keep pumping him full of my dreams and fears and hopes if he won't reciprocate. incapable.
"when I said I loved you, it was because I loved you." .. "yeah I guess you hurt me. for once you're a man of your word. well guess what, I'm leaving. I can't be your prisoner."
I don't have anyone to talk to right now. once he would have been omnipresent. now he's.. gone. just gone. not here. not there. not mine. never was.
everything felt was all in my head. what he felt for me, most of all. whenever I remember something painful, I put it in that empty place. all week I told him I could shut off my heart if he wanted me to, and he kept saying not to. if only he had said I should. if only I'd followed my instinct. but I'm too inconstant. I never know when I'm right until after the fact.
it's gone it's gone it's gone. I am changed.
unmet love does not work.
I had a plan to drive there and see him, to surprise him, but I don't think he would have liked it. I didn't know what I wanted to accomplish. yeah, I would have done anything when I thought I had him. all he had to do was ask. he still has me and does nothing -- it's a sin to waste what you have. I've been told.
I keep forgetting the day of the week.
I miss him, and I don't want to anymore. I wonder how he feels?
maybe I'm being passive-aggressive. I don't know if he reads this anymore. sometimes I pretend he does, but he never tells me. we never discuss the things I say. he's made avoiding questions into an artform.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

07:22 p.m.

verbosity about a paucity
I wonder what went through your head the day you said you loved me; how you justified your lies and your feelings. you knew inside what I would think and the effect your words had on me, but you said them anyway. you never set me straight.
you'll never know the days I spent punctuated with crying. the times I lay awake wondering what would happen. all the things I felt I just couldn't tell you. I loved you and it hurt, but you loved me back and that made it alright.
now I can imagine your thought process throughout the whole thing. all the lies you told yourself to bury the false feelings. how you juggled two people who thought they had you solo. you did nothing to correct the misconceptions. you did nothing but keep quiet, and in your silence kept on lying.
you said that you were leaving, but you've never really left me. there's part of you still stuck inside me and I don't know how to dislodge it. maybe I don't want to because without it I have nothing. you left me nothing.
I keep feeling this panic well up inside of me. you're not the sole reason, but fuck, I really miss you. I know this is just one more aspect of our relationship that won't be mutual. for a while you really had me going. I would have believed anything if it meant I could be close to you.
when will I be ok again? am I ever? can I let you go if it means truly losing you? will you call? will you apologise sincerely? will you tell me the truth? can I trust you?
I don't know. I had it all sketched out, now it's just a mess.
please help me. I don't know what to do.

Monday, August 16, 2004

01:47 p.m.

how to disappear completely
I don't want to cry again.
I want to hear from you. I want to know that this wasn't all pointless, that it wasn't really a waste of time. I want you to lie about lying, because I loved to hear you say those words. I want to hear you laugh again.
now it's just dreams. that's how we'll talk and be together. I want reality. I wanted something more.
there is no way I can hurt you the way that you've hurt me. you keep me hidden. you won't admit your shame to anyone else. I am tired of fighting. I'm tired of hating. I'm tired of being angry. I wanted to look you in the eyes one last time and hear the truth.
rather than deal with me, you walk away. tell me where the easy path takes you. I'm dying to know. I hope I never understand your point of view. it seems so skewed.
I will lay here until I hear your voice again. how long will you make me wait this time? I am so tired of taking steps. give me something in return.
I think I've earned it.

Monday, August 16, 2004

12:10 a.m.

just the truth
thinking of you in the passenger seat, relaxed, your ankles crossed and your hands resting. my proverbial heart raises its wall named "hate" around the memory of you, to keep me from missing your presence.
but I know its tricks. I can't keep this anger, or this sadness. I can't hold on to it anymore than I could hold on to you.
tear down the wall. fuck defense mechanisms. all they do is make things worse. I am tired of being angry, I am sick of being hateful, I just want this all to be over with.
I hate that I have lost you. it's more complete that I ever could have imagined one month ago. more complete than I ever could have accomplished alone. I hate loving you, but I can't make myself stop and I won't give into the temptation of the easy way. all this started with lies; I won't have it ended the same way.
you aren't willing to do everything for me, but I would have for you. what is the difference? love.
I hope someday you are in my place. then maybe you will understand.

Sunday, August 15, 2004

04:09 p.m.

Oh-
I forgot this.

Friday, August 13, 2004

02:26 p.m.

random memory
so many things I'd forgotten:
days I slept for 16 hours, then just laid in bed. sleeping through the day, not taking my medication. the depression that debilitated and caused me to take a leave of absence from school.
I missed so much school because I just couldn't make myself get out from under the covers. I didn't care.
I'd sleep then see my boyfriend then work then go back to my boyfriend's. wash. rinse. repeat. I'd go days not seeing my dad or stepping foot in my house. random punks thought I lived in red lion because I was there so much.
the chronology is all fucked. I can't remember what happened when, or what led to what. all I remember is sleeping a lot, and being sad, and finding a little bit of sunlight that I stomped out almost immediately.
I'm so good at that.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

12:15 p.m.

show some fucking respect
the least you could do is be original.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

01:15 a.m.

what's the score, darling?
not a poem, just disjointed
I want to feel something
but I'm afraid I've exhausted all possibilities.
this situation has never happened before
I am waiting
waiting for something to happen.
it's like everything
stuck in grey again.
can't do what I want
don't have what I thought
and you are not calling
and you are not writing
and I am just waiting
to know.
finding songs to relate to.
what's my move?
melodrama.
what's my function?
distraction.
you lied to me. to her. to yourself.
baby, what's your attempt?
self-destruction.
every sign points to the fact that you never loved me
but I always kept the hope alive
kill it for me
come back and finish me off.
you owe me at least that.
don't deny the satisfaction of finishing what you began.

Sunday, August 8, 2004

08:56 p.m.

the way it's been
things feel fine then a memory hits or a reminder-- for an instant I almost sob (or do) and I wince in pain.
then it passes.

I give it two more days.

Saturday, August 7, 2004

05:32 p.m.

impatience
a song runs through my head, the melody bumping memories and stirring feeling. false words imprinted on my brain, making things more romantic than they were. I blow things out of proportion. I can't help it. I miss you.
all the dreams I wasted on the idea of you. time spent thinking you told the truth. I thought I had a part of you. I thought there was something there that never was.
now I wait to hear something, anything. it doesn't come. I can't wait until I can go a day without crying. it will come soon. how can things be any other way?
"I set myself up for the greatest fall of all time." the most inopportune songs, set to random, but they seem purposeful to me. I believe that everything happened for a reason. it is how I keep my sanity. it is how I can continue.
what is your reason? what is your purpose? what is your answer? will you see me? or will you just continue on in passive-agressiveness, until you make the next mistake?
the waiting is the worst.

Saturday, August 7, 2004

06:08 p.m.

patience
I am empty. I am scared. I don't know what I'm doing. another fatal crash is on the way. where will I go from there?
I don't know.

Friday, August 6, 2004