11:57 a.m.

the irony of the situation does not escape me. I wasn't expecting to take things into my own hands, but here I have. I found out on a website, by accident. she found out the same way. mike, how does this make you feel? is your passive-aggressive fear working out for you?
it wasn't my intention for things to go this way, as I'm sure you never meant to hurt me. the romance of us kissing in the rain, of you waiting until I pulled away before you left, well, it's been overshadowed by your inaction.
it isn't right to let someone believe things that aren't true. you led us both on, in a way I never have been before. and the deceit doesn't end. you lied to me. you lied to me more than anyone else ever has.
what did you have to gain?

Thursday, August 5, 2004

09:49 a.m.

oh the decision
when will I stop feeling angry?
which did I prefer, being utterly disgusted and feeling used or crying because I couldn't get the memory of his presence out of my head? did I prefer betrayal or tragedy?
it doesn't matter anyway. what I have now is what I have to deal with.
I just thought it was so much better than it's become.

Wednesday, August 4, 2004

11:57 a.m.

my tail experience
we take what we can from each other, then sneak out like thieves in the night. all that's left is the memory of what we had, and an emptiness that will stay forever in some small part. another piece of me gone. another story to tell.
I called it heart ache, and when comfort was attempted I proved them wrong. it is heart ache. it is loving someone who accepted from the beginning that he would be leaving. he accepted it so fully that at times it didn't even seem like he was really here.
and now I count the missed opportunities and it makes me ache even more. it came and went so fast I didn't even have time to do the things I'd wanted. I just grasped wildly at shadows and hallucinations and hoped it would be enough to sustain us. and for a while, it was.
now it's gone, but the feeling persists. I stood in the bathroom and held his towel because it still smelled like him. I kept wishing I'd find something he'd forgotten to take with him, just so I had proof he'd really been here at all. his presence lingers inside me. I wonder how long I can keep this up.
I read my circles, and it's not the same somehow.
I think the change is him.

Tuesday, August 3, 2004

11:19 a.m.

not knowing everything is all that makes it okay, sometimes
I am trying not to fall into the same spiral I always find myself in after the ending of a relationship. but how can this be an end if there never was a beginning, or any definition at all?
I miss him. I knew I would. it hurts. I knew that would happen too. I knew I would wake up and realise he wasn't here. I knew I would go to sleep, aware he wouldn't be in the other room when I walked in the next morning.
I feel empty. I don't want to look forward to anything. I don't want any one to touch me. I remember his arms around me and his chin on my head and I miss his fingers.
it will pass. it always does. I just wonder how long it will take for something that was just a moment to pass.

Monday, August 2, 2004

01:20 a.m.

rhetorical questions to real situations
It hasn't sunk in yet.
I am expecting to wake up tomorrow and see him on the futon. I will be waiting for his kiss. It won't be there.
I don't want to write about what he meant to me. I don't want to dwell on it just yet. I want to forget everything we did, but at the same point I loved it so much.
Why do good things have to hurt so much when they are gone? Why can't it just keep feeling good until it fades away into memory? Why do I have to keep wanting more?
I know that the knowledge of his absence will sink in more and more each day until eventually I am used to him not being here. Just like he wasn't here for 23 years before last week, and may never be again.

Monday, August 2, 2004

12:43 a.m.

dilemma
I can't think of anything original to say.
I am so sick of everything feeling the same but I can't see any way to make it different. It's ending soon. It's been kind of pointless. I wish I could say something that I haven't already said to someone else. I can't. There isn't anything to say.
I never thought I'd be so upset about running out of words. That's a lie. It's always what I've hated; the inability to express one's self. Mostly I just hate that I don't feel anything new.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with any of this.

Saturday, July 31, 2004

11:52 p.m.

how it is
the truth is somewhere in the middle.

Thursday, July 29, 2004

11:08 p.m.

my reminiscing
I remember Tom P. in the morning, taking pictures of me as I laced my boots. I remember talking about comics the night before, after dancing around a bonfire to beliefs I did not share. I remember the smell of the smoke and how excited we got as we compared comic book fascinations.
I remember his smile and his hands and his thighs. he went down on me with no expectation of reciprocation. he was one of the only guys I could sleep comfortably with.
I visited him in jersey and his mom was friendly but frightening. his homelife was a weird twilight zone rerun. his room was just comics and bookshelves. he slept with me in the guest bed. I fell in love with him a little.
we used to write each other letters. but like everything, flash fires burn out fast. I wrote poetry, drew pictures, found someone closer, forgot.
it takes years sometimes to realise the love one holds for another. there are so many sad stories out there. this one never ended, it had no beginning, it just faded in and then back out. there is not much to regret, not much to remember. it was good when it was there. it was good to be held and it was good to kiss him.
he was funny, and cute, and said nice things to me. I'm glad that we never made more out of things than what there really was.

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

09:07 a.m.

oh sweet drama
I maybe hate him a little, in the way that one hates a person who can do something they are unable to. I hate him in the way I hate all optimists and in the way I hate myself for being hypocritical.
I hate him for not coming into the bedroom and holding me while I tried to sleep, even though I told him I can't sleep when someone's touching me. I hate him for not acting like the romantic he claims to be. I hate him for not being able to read my mind. I hate him for wanting to do more than just spend all his time with me.
Mostly I hate myself for having expectations. I hate myself for blowing things out of proportion. I hate myself for being unable to just ask him to come in and keep me company.
I hate my hormones for putting my emotions at such a level. I hate my emotions for being so unjustified. I hate my circumstances. I hate my fear.
I hate being unable to put him out of my head at night when I try to sleep. I hate that he is the last and first thing I think about. I try to sleep and the feeling of him is there. I wake up and the realisation of him in the other room hits me. I hate that I jump at everything, thinking it might be him walking in to lay beside me. I hate that it never is.
I hate that I love him and it's the kind of love that wouldn't really last even if we were less than three thousand miles apart. I hate that there are so many topics we just don't see eye to eye on. I hate how conflicted I am in regards to the time we have left to spend together.
I hate that I'm not sure what I'll do when he's gone. I hate that it doesn't even have to do with him. I hate my hypocrisy. I hate my fear.
I don't really hate him for his ability to sleep without me. Sometimes I just wish the roles were reversed and he could realise how much he means to me and how much I'll have to kill that off before I can go on.

Monday, July 26, 2004

06:27 p.m.

last chance for a slow dance
soon it will all be made pointless, "it" being subjective, of course.
I don't mind, though, because lately I haven't been able to think of anything to say. the thought of how much I would miss him used to bring tears to my eyes, now I am almost looking forward to this being over with.
defense mechanism, oh how I loathe you. you take the beauty out of newness. I have learned from my mistakes internally, even if I still act as reckless as before. tomorrow will come, in twenty-four hours he will be by my side. how will I feel then? will I want to stretch a week into forever, or will I gladly drive him off two hours to drop him out of my life?
the answer is somewhere in between, like it always is, lurking in the grey.

Thursday, July 22, 2004

01:52 p.m.

unfinished meanderings.
oh, I remember, I remember words running through my mind last night. feelings.
how badly I want it to be my name on your lips as you wake to the dark, clutching at nothing tangible; the night a presence you would trade to have me near you.
dreaming of a sewer where good is not good and I hid beneath water, only to have the explosion reach me but leave me unscathed. there are images I can't get down on paper, no matter the method. something frightening but beautiful.
oh and I would be everything to you if I only could. these vivid dreams leave little scars. soon they will be the only thing I feel.
romance is a different creature to the two of us. you are more realistic than you give yourself credit for, and I am more naive.

Thursday, July 8, 2004

11:19 a.m.

from ramble to bramble
sometimes the truth behind my words shocks me.
if I shut up long enough to listen to myself, I can make amazing predictions. if I can trust myself long enough to hear, eventually things fall into order.
last night I dreamt about love again, because I always do. I dreamt of loss and sex and want, all on a ridiculous backdrop with bad costumes. there was dirt and mud and nudity, passing fancies and long lasting desire. so this is what my life is: a constantly shifting kaleidoscope of wants. things that I will love and then lose interest in, having had them for a moment. nothing is ever as good as the anticipation. the aftermath ruins anything tightly held.
I said before that a living dream I had would end wordlessly, faded, before I knew how right I was. stinging eyes tell me the truth.
I wonder when I'll see him again, and I wonder how I'll react. I already know too well his movements.
I hate predictability.

Sunday, July 4, 2004

02:16 p.m.

unthought of for ages
Levi's hair, and his pale face. after I met him, I practiced blowing snot rockets in the shower because he said his ideal woman would be able to. Levi's unravelling sweater and his ridiculous hat. we hiked and I couldn't think of anything to say. I was just his friend's little sister.
I can't remember if I cried when I heard he was dead. I think I did. it hit me much harder than it should have. a lock of Levi's curls, sent home to me in an envelope months before, with a note saying, "now you can clone me." after he died, I had my sister give it to his mother. she was thankful, I hear.
I let my sister borrow my car to drive to vermont for the funeral. I tried not to talk about the incident, the death, because I felt my grief wasn't justified. Levi's smile, his pointed boots. my sister told me they'd had a fight, that the only reason they stayed civil was because of his girlfriend, who was my sister's best friend. and his art, and her art, they respected each others' talents. Levi's illustration.
he drowned in the ocean, off the jersey shore. my sister was there. a storm came. Levi's thin pale fingers, Levi's eyes. I wonder what it would have been like to hold him in the dark, to rub his back, to hold his head against my chest? I wonder why his death still upsets me? I didn't really know him.
Levi's guitar, and a polaroid. he died when I was 17, when I was still innocent. before my memory went to total shit. I like to think that he and my sister would have eventually reconciled, but now we'll never know.
my sister could not swim in the ocean for a long time after that. I wonder how she made peace with the waves? what current pulled on her? I'll never know. I cannot ask.

Saturday, July 3, 2004

05:45 p.m.

not much bitter left
I am lucky that the assholes in my life tend to make an early exit, ever since that one in '99.
too many would I have loved had they just stuck around long enough. fortunately most of their dishonesty was to themselves and not to me. had I been fooled, had they tried to use me, an angry and more hurt person I would have been.
would be now.
so thank you to all the jerks who left and never said a word, or pretended they didn't try to fuck me. no need to apologise after all these years. no need to look me up. your use was only for yourself, there it remains.
don't tell me your problems now that you have already left me. I would have loved you before. don't look for sympathy now.
you brought this all on yourself.

Thursday, July 1, 2004

09:24 p.m.

drama, I have missed you least of all.
making nothing into something.
eyes shining in darkness, staring. a mood that cannot be recaptured. something one-sided, or at least not continued past 2am.
arms. heat. sweat. waking up at 5am and trying to sleep in a computer chair. failing.
dreaming of an act that the lack of was later mentally justified. memories.
oh and beauty and thankfully unspoken words. jokes. breathlessness.
and later, anxiety on one side and confusion on the other. a noticeable lack.
something fleeting, ephemeral, lost. not to be regained.
let's hope things aren't as fucked as they sometimes seem.

Monday, June 28, 2004

02:31 a.m.

jettisoned tears
it starts again. this is killing me. I know what death is, I have been there before. it streams down my face and messes with my swollen eyes.
I've seen all this before.
the perfection in a person. the words. stacatto movements of the fingers. you click. I feel it. this is bad. I am painful.
everything has changed, but something just won't leave. it's the part of me I hate. it's the part that makes things even more difficult.
it is me.

Monday, May 17, 2004

01:51 a.m.

trying it on for size.
when I said that I love you, I was just saying your name.

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

11:31 p.m.

I never thought I would be able to say it.
I hate you.
I dreamt about you more than any other person. so many nights spent with you in my mind. even looking at the wreck that you are, I still can't shake what you were to me. but I hate you. I love you but I hate you. I am obsessed and I hate you.
I have tried so hard to forget all the things that happened. I have tried to expel them by not talking, I have tried by overanalysis, forgetting, remembering.. but I stopped trying to go back to the source, because it was gone from me.
and here you are now. and I hate you.
I hate you for crushing me, and then not bothering to sweep up the pieces. I hate you for not sticking around, for leaving me at my most vulnerable.
I hate you for breaking up with me, then fucking me anyway.
and isn't that the perfect analogy for it all?
yeah. yeah, I think it is.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

10:51 p.m.

a secret place
the darkness and the dreams. something I wouldn't tell anyone. something that no one would understand anyway, no matter how I shouted. no matter how I metaphored.
everything has been pointing to the problem that is in me. it is not my upbringing, it is not my interactions, it is me. and only I can fix it.
I should swear off everything and unmake myself. stop kissing and falling in love. stop this ridiculousness.
insecurity.
I've been drawing lines between the parellels and the picture is as disturbing as the negative space. I'm learning what I've feared, and seeing how facing my fears won't help a thing if I don't face the most important one.
it's trite to say, but that one is me.
some how anti-sociality never seemed so right. so perfect. the cure for me, the cure for everything. I must study myself without interruption or distraction from anything I long for.
anything that I use to aleviate insecurity.
I'll miss you, lovers.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

11:13 p.m.

killing a metaphor
there are so many things I have forgotten.
I could not say when it began, because it always was there.
I don't know when the first moment of attraction was sparked but I know the embers never died. I could say when they began to be fanned back into fire, I could tell you when the flames overtook me. unimportant mentionings.
pointlessness.
advice given, freely taken, mused upon. studying my own words now. contemplating what I wanted to do but never thought I'd have. it still is not mine. it never will be.
I am coming to terms with myself.
some things left to be said, but how? but why? because they are felt, because I feel the need for everyone to know what I think. at least if it is kind.
eventually if it is bad.
where will I go? what will I do? this is my story, these are my dreams. let me tell you a story. let me share my dreams.
just don't forget the importance of reciprocation.
oh, I have so much to give.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

12:43 a.m.

I would drop almost anything to see your smile again.

Monday, April 5, 2004

02:46 a.m.

the truth
sometimes even I can't stand the things I say. clean slate.

Wednesday, March 31, 2004