i probably shouldn’t write when i feel like this… but it’s also when i am most inspired to write. i really want to talk to someone about how i am feeling but it seems that there’s nothing really to say and there’s nothing anyone can do to change how i am feeling. i guess that’s what my counsellor is for. i feel that i can talk to her. cause she has to listen. she gets paid to just sit there and soak up all my bad shit like a sponge.after i leave her office i don’t really have any new solutions but the bad feelings are now split between me and someone else. or at least i get the feeling that my problem is less when someone else knows about it.
it happened again. i got scared and i bolted. scared isn’t the right word. what is the righ word to describe it? maybe i just don’t know how to be happy with another person in an intimate context. i miss HER. i wanna ask her how her day was and i feel as though this time i would actually care enough to listen. i wanna know if she had a headache all day again, cause right now i actually care about her, which, strangely is more than i can say about the last week or two weeks of spotty apathetic love on my part. i really wasn’t there for her. i really didn’t let myself become emotionally available. a lot of the time i wasn’t even physically available, particularly in the last few days, which is when i made the difficult decision to not out either of us through that agony. and this time, unlike all the past relationships i quit cause i couldn’t hack, i am not gonna go back. i won’t do that to her. i care about her too much, i guess. it’s bad enough to be broken up with once, but over and over again every weekend for two or even six months? that’s just cruel. and that’s exactly what i did to Bre. that’s exactly what i did to Lorea. that’s exactly what i did to Tamar. kept thinking i could “get over my fears”. kept thinking it was just a brief phase of disinterest. kept thinking suddenly i would get struck to my senses and would treat her like i wish i could. wish i could just write my life out like a character in a screenplay and just be exactly like i wanted to be. but this screenwriter isn’t fervent enough and this actor is not professional enough to pull off a convincing role. i truly hope her and i can still hang out. i know we can’t right now. the dust needs time to settle. yesterday i was surprisingly happy after i told her i couldn’t date her anymore. i felt like i got what i needed and that i was on a path to honesty. today the fucking reality set in. all those things you take for granted. waking up to her in your bed. you were so apathetic before. now you missed her. watching her tell a story and be extatic and giggle. her fucking passion and aliveness. her honesty and willingness to try to make things work…. i could go on but it’s making me more sad.
i still feel like the decision i made was a necessary one and that it was the only thing to do to save our relationship with one another. and by that i mean our union of souls. cause when i was in that intimate-romantic context i couldn’t feel anything. and now i can feel her so close to me. and it hurts.
Leave a Reply