Heart-Sick

It's been a hard couple of weeks. First my dad was in the hospital for a week, then adam's grandfather passed away. Funeral business takes a couple of weeks.

And before these two weeks were two or 3 weeks of dog problems, that are still ongoing.

Before that it was nothing but life going nowhere post vacation blues.

Blues blues bluesing.

I'm heart sick.

Lately I've been feeling a bit stir crazy. I don't know what I want or where I want to go. i just don't want to be this and be here.

It's a mix between anxiety and the inability to breathe and panic and excitement. Over nothing.

I'm torn between tht fear and the need for somethign new and exciting. Sometimes I feel like I'm not prepared for the life I want.

That the difference between what I can do and can handle is too far from what I want and dream of doing. So, I'll never find some sort of happiness.

Holding My Breath.

Can you keep a secret?

I think I might be going. I think I might be going.

Almost 7 years later this is what I tell myself...

As much as I don't want to, something in me needs him and wants him. I can try to rationalize how much I don't as much as I want.

I need the fantasy, I need the pretend. I need to think that...

I need to pretend and fantasize that I can pretend and fantasize. It isn't ever ok, but I need it. I need it.

The Science of Sleep

I'm doing it again, I know it.

This time I'm so aware of it, of how bad I'm being, that it's making me sick.

It's like I have this secret sort of life. My real life and my pretend one. Except I know there are repercussions of my pretend one in my real life. If anyone knew the crimes I commit everything would fall apart.

I'm so afraid of being burnt. I'm so afraid of being caught. I'm so afraid of myself that it's making me sick.

My stomach hurts, I feel like I can't breathe. I can't seem to calibrate myself to my real life. As if I've forgotten which one is which.

I feel captured in my dreams and when I wake to find a cold reality, I'm breathing underwater. I feel the pressure amount around me, my body raises rebellion.

I'm so lost right now. I'm so lost.

In real life I've grown so distant and depressed that being caught in my dream world is easier. I don't want to be here. I don't want to feel these things.

I don't know if I'm running or I just want to.

I'm completely unaware of what's going on around me or what's going on inside of me. Nothing is making any sense.

I'm so scattered. I feel pulled and panicked. I feel caught. stuck. withdrawn.

Last night I had a dream I was dancing, I remember every step. For the first time for as long as I can remember I felt something inside of me that once defined me. I think it was beauty. I didn't care for anything. For anything outside of those movements. I wasn't lost for once, I found myself. Like something was coursing through me, from fingertip to fingertip, through my heart and every inch of me. It was like I was suddenly released from a vacuum and the air stopped crushing me. Like my heart was beating. Like my lungs were growing. Like everything inside of me was growing. growing. growing outwards. Like I wasn't trapped anymore.

I don't know what makes me feel more alive: my dreams or my actual life.
I don't know what makes me more afraid: my life or my dreams.

Which haunts me more?

Either way, I can't seem to exist only in one. I can't seem to find myself in either one. Sleeping or awake I feel dislodged. I feel I should be in some other sort of world. No matter where I am I feel lost.

I'm throwing away the letters that I am writing you...

When I'm driving in my car I still cry over you. You're the only one.

I cry because of everything I went through. Everything I went through all alone. I cry because I remember his hands and I accuse you for not being there to save me. I cry because I remember the fear and the doctors and menace. And it's your fault that I had no support. I cry because I remember all the days and the nights I spent crying and you weren't there.

I let so few people into my life because I'm afraid I can't take it when they let me down. You were my rock, you were the one. You were so much to me and so much of everything. I don't know how but I thought that our relationship could stay that way, that I'd always be your little sister: protected. And you'd be the one to comfort me at night.

I can't forget the nights I would crawl into your bed afraid of the millions of monsters I created. You told me you'd always be there.

And suddenly the monsters were real and the darkness was catching up to me. I was running and running and I didn't need you to save me. I needed you to see that I was tired. I needed you to see that I was there. I needed you to see what I was going through because no one else could see. And no one could see me. And I thought if anyone could know just by looking at me, if anyone could know me, it was you.

I didn't want to be saved, I just didn't want to be alone.

But I was. I was alone. and it was all your fault. I faced the past, the present, and the impending future like the bombing of dresden and not only were you and your bed gone but you didn't even want to face the aftermath.

You were so wrapped up in your money problems and losing your house and I tried so much to help but you couldn't see that. You were so blind. I was losing every good thing inside of me. I can't seem to get it back.

I'm a completely different person now. I've left behind everything I was, everyone that was apart of that. But I still cry for you. I still miss you. And I think it's too late to ever get it back...

There's a distance between Adam and I. It isn't silence and it isn't anger. It's just this really normalized, barely noticeable presence in our relationship. It's almost a discomfort.

It's a strange and new negative aspect to our relationship and I don't quite know how to interpret it or what to do.

How many flaws or negatives until something is just bad? I've always had the problem at knowing.

Could Have Been

Sometimes I can't believe the things we've said. The words we've committed to memory.

How do you know The One? How do you distinguish Forever?

The same in every turn therefore incompatible. We are not the missing peices; we are the same peice.

I will never lose you and you will never lose me. Even if we never truly found each other to begin with.

I want to say let's be crazy, let's get married, let's throw it all to the wind.

Let's forget about the past, leave it in the past, forget the ways you hurt me. Forget the way I hurt you.

I want to say I'm sorry, let's get out of here, let's run away from here.

Let's forget what I just said, leave it at that, forget my expectations. Forget your expectations.

Let's be ridiculous and make bad decisions. Why won't you tell you'll love me forever? Why won't you lie to me like I like to lie to myself and say forever and ever and ever and forever.

Why don't you tell me, "Oh honey baby it's you, it's you, it's always been you. it'll always be you. Honey, honey, I love you?"

Why don't you tell me, "You're the one, you're the one. You've always been the one?"

Why don't you tell me, "it's night and day, it's night and day and I can't live without you night or day."

Could you say, "Please don't go, don't leave me this way, this isn't where we intended to be but we can make it better."

Why can't there be more than silence? Why are we so lost within ourselves that it's silence and silence and privacy and the secret domain of our own minds?

all alone all alone.

This reads like bad teenage poetry.

A Story of Regret

Here' a little something I remember about you, a little something that I'll always associate with you. You listened to regret and only thought of the regret everyone should have felt when they left you, when they hurt you, The regret you wish you could collect like dimes to turn into Love later on.

You didn't know how to regret your own actions. To think of your own actions. To see my reactions.

here's something you may never know, here's something you'll never know about me and my regret:

While you slept beneath velvet curtains of anguish, struggling to be free, struggling to see what was happening in the world around you, I was there. I was just outside your door, my heart calling to you. "save me. save me. save me." I pleaded with you to hear me, to open your door, to find me. To find us.

Now, so many years later, I regret that you couldn't save me from that night. And you didn't know how to save me from the months that followed.

I was so torn. I was so torn. I was so torn apart that when I pulled myself together I made the effort to leave myself out of it completely. I sewed each wound carefully, with thread of silver, as thin as tinsel, cautiously. I patched my wounded heart, I patched my wounded soul. And I left the pieces of myself out. That was when you lost me.

That's when the world lost me.

That's when I lost myself.

Do you know the things he said to me? Do you know how he made me feel? Will you ever be able to stop the tears that came the night he screamed and screamed and hurt me while like a pathetic, like a weak, like myself I fought to come closer and closer. And closer and closer.

Do you know what it's like to have your own skin betray you? To have your own body to upstage you? Do you know what its like to have yourself torn down by a man? To let him ravage your soul?

Here's something as simple as it can be: I'm barely the shell of my former self because I can no longer love myself.

I cannot love the woman that let a man do the things to her what he did to me.

Do you know what regret means? Do you know what it means to retrogress the ways in which I have?

Will you remember me? Will you remember the sweetness in me? Will you remember the nights you abandoned me to find me in the streets the next morning? Will you ever see that you were the only one that could have helped me?

A continuation

I've lost myself. I've lost my style. I've lost my rhythm.

It came to a point in my life where the only thing I could do was runaway from myself. The only thing I could do was forget who I was. The only thing I could do was lose the peices of me that made me Me.

I want to say that I regret it but I cannot. I can't say that I regret protecting myself.

I've been hurt. And I can't let the wounds heal. I pick and I pick and they fester and they fester. Because I feel like if I let them close, they'll be forgotten. How many times did I make excuses for the way other people hurt me only to have someone else, someone new come and rip the scars. Tear me wounds and wounds and wounds to be larger and larger and larger.

And I think I got so afraid of bleeding out. I was so afraid of the oncoming pain. I was so afraid of letting anyone touch me, cause I'd had so many hurt me, that I pushed, I ran, I have yet to return.

I've hidden my soul so far that I question, Do I have one at all? Which person am I? The one that I hid away and remember myself as? Or the one I've become?

How does one refind themself? How do I remember what I really am?