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breaching the surface
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breaching the surface
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before the sun
many clouds
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He has apparently found his catharsis. He is apparently free of pain and regret. He has once again managed to transcend it all and leave me down here in the dirt.
I really wish I'd never have met him.
Alienated.
Again.
So tired, so lost, so bored... so left behind.
Hate.
Thanks again for all you've done. It's a shame you don't even know who you are.
Hahahaha.
It's official. My passport to the grand destination of Insanity has been approved and is in my hand as we speak. Alex and Ben went out to a punk show tonight. Completely innocent, right?
Dead fucking wrong. Ben has decided that as Tom is out of the picture that he can ask Alex out. I've never been one to even acknowledge the rules, but this is one case in which the rules are definitely here and they're definitely being broken. I'm sorry: if you're living in my apartment and have a free ride with very few responsibilities, do not decide to pursue a relationship with the same guy that I (irresponsibly and wrongly) rebounded off of.
I have no clue if I'm just being selfish or if I actually have a right to state my case here but I am not going to live with someone who is so fucking oblivious to the pain he causes me. Let also never exist the possibility that Ben may be doing this just to get back at me; I may be less than fair in games of love, but where revenge is concerned no one really has any clue of what I'm capable.
Phillip continues to make his presence known. He has no clue of why, either. I specifically asked him why he continued coming around; explained to him the way I felt about him being over... and I honestly don't think that we're any closer to an answer or even a state of grace than we were before he came over and detonated my world again.
On the upside: Matt is indeed alive. I don't feel like retyping the explanation to whoever is reading this; if interested see here for more details. I cannot wait until he returns. So much I want to do... a proper date. Talking. Things like that. Shouldn't sugarcoat it with the belief that such things will indeed happen, but I can dream.
Things get more and more interesting by the day.
I should really stop getting out of bed.
Time to think again.
I've been having random spasms of anger lately and I'm not sure what's triggering them. Tonight I almost threw food at Alex's head in Cane's. For no apparent reason.
I dislike this. I talked to Matt about the whole continually asking me for pills thing. I honestly hope I didn't hurt his feelings but it has me worried now. Not to mention the fact that I'm beginning to miss him. I don't want this to be another relationship with an unhappy ending. It could be much better. I know this.
But he's quiet and at times it scares me. The silence seems almost Philliplike. I can't take another one like him. I drank myself into a stupor last night (good move dude, good move) because I could SMELL him in my house. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have no right to be continually feeling this way but I do. I'm paralised by fear in almost everything I do. I don't want to hurt Matt but I don't want to be hurt by Matt, so I say something for preemptive damage control that I think may have hurt him.
It's a problem. But I do like him. Nothing approaching love, no no, but rather a fascination with him. Much like the fascination I had with Phillip. The fascination I had with his strangeness... with his difference... with him in general.
Feeling powerless does not please me but I'm used to it now, just as I am used to waiting. So I shall continue like this. I have no other options save dumping Matt and I WON'T fuck something else up this soon.
*shrug*
A direct quote from a conversation I was having with Megan tonight. She offered to be there for me and I told her in complete honesty that she likely couldn't handle me, as I am now, and I asked her what she saw in me now.
Her response...
There was so much more said that I don't even want to post here in this place where I can be as open as I please. I'll let it stew; I shouldn't reveal any other weaknesses now. It's pointless.
But I have many things to think about now.
*shrug* Another day.
So after having quite possibly one of my most massive breakdowns in recent history (a straight week of overemotional hypersensitivity and quite frequent handle-departing) I find myself with a new distraction.
His name is Matt.
To all appearences (though I do NOT wish to curse myself by saying this, knock wood) he has none of the psychoses or issues that for some reason usually characterise the subjects of my dating pattern.
He talks. He is warm. He shows affection. He seems to actually enjoy my company.
Did I mention he actually kisses me and does so with skill?
I feel right now as though I've stepped into some odd but pleasant dream, and I fear that I shall soon be awakened.
But I'm going to take the time to say that I think (with no certainty but with full reason) that I deserve a functional relationship. I still have plenty of doubts and the recurring self-imposed guilt trip that screams "you're just using him as a rebound to forget your loneliness."
I hardly need quote Veruca Salt in saying loneliness is worse. This is why I stayed with Phillip for so long, I've come to believe: I came out of my many shells when I got to college and I discovered that where there had been nothing inside of me worth giving to anyone there was now a plentitude of honestly good stuff and I wanted so badly to share it.
But no opportunities presented themselves before him and so I was almost mortally afraid to lose him... as though I would never find anyone else to love me (this being one of the main things that resurfaced after all of the good stuff had started to drain away). But did he ever actually love me? He's the only one to know that.
But if I haven't now found someone to love me I've at least found someone that I can give some of the good to and an appeasement to serve up to my mind when it starts to break apart. I'm not alone anymore, not now, and I don't have to be for a while if everything goes as it should.
A new chapter begins on my eighteenth year. I hope the lesson I get to learn this time around is love given and returned.
I am driving myself back into my hole.
I am running away again, hiding out, holing myself up in my head. I feel good right now but somehow I know it'll crash. I know it'll fall, I know it'll fail to stay here and it'll fail to keep me sane.
I know I'm going to be depressed for a very long time until I meet someone that'll pick me back up. I can't support my own weight anymore. I want to withdraw but I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'm going to become bitter.
I'm afraid I'll turn into him.
I found out last night that he thinks we don't want him around anymore, and I'm sorry to say it, but unless he is with me I want nothing to do with him.
This is not an ultimatum. This is complete honesty. If he's not coming home to me every night then he will not call this apartment his home. I will not allow it. I would rather die then give him control of my emotions. I did it before and he betrayed me, he left me here to wither away like a flower in the face of winter.
It's not insanity I'm feeling, but... rather a cold, calculating fury. A fury that burns so hot and raw that I don't have to worry about holding it back. It won't be held back anymore.
Because it is me. I am still capable of love, but at this time I wear my rage like a skin; hiding nothing.
I will not tolerate the same treatment that I received at his hands for six months. I will not accept it laying down. And I will not have him as only a friend. Not at this time. In the future, maybe. But not now.
Not now.
Yet deep inside I still pray that possibly maybe turns into yes again.
I pray...
I've come to three conclusions.
1. Phillip is no longer someone I should concern myself with.
The only problem is that to do anything about any of this would require a lot more effort than I'm willing to give at this point. For now, I think I'll keep working on number one.
I can take everything good and bad that anyone's ever said about that relationship in sum and come up with the answer that it was more self-destructive then it ever should have been. It caused more pain to me than I deserved. This doesn't make the pain go away. This only intensifies it.
Things were better in the beginning. We were happier. Or so I think. I wish there were a simple answer to this riddle, but all I can do is search my soul and pray for strength. I went for a walk along the River Road levy last night and had a chat with the moon. The wind felt good, and then more than ever I felt something changing. I want to know the result now so I can prepare myself for it.
And let nobody ever say that change is always painless.
Travis has broken up with his boyfriend.
He is not in the least bit hurt or scarred... to all appearances he doesn't even regret himself.
I think a lesson should be learned. His ex guilt trips him left and right and yet it doesn't affect him.
I don't know what I'm saying or where I'm going but I think I need to watch this carefully and take notes. I know if I can let the wound cauterise and scab over I'll be okay but lately the whole world, whether by device or accident, seems to enjoy ripping the scab off.
I'm three seconds away from snapping at everyone and anyone and I know why. I'm not even going to act like I don't.
I want Phillip back. He's hurt me, denied me, broken me, treated me as less than human, and in the end left me without a single reason and I want him back. I do not want Ben. I do not like Ben. In fact, he annoys me. The ONLY reason I haven't told him to stop coming around is because apparently I've gotten him off coke and I'm such a fucking humanitarian that I would stay for that reason.
But I'm not happy with him. I'm not happy where I am. I'm not happy here anymore. When the rug was still under my feet it was easy to bitch about how worn and frayed it was in places but now that it's been ripped out all I can do is lay in bed late at night and act like the good little stereotypical weak pathetic uke and weep for what I've lost.
I read over other journal entries speaking of how happy I was. I can remember the feelings acutely and I WANT HIM BACK.
I've stripped it bare and I can do no more. We could have made it until January. Perhaps if Rodneyna and Anne hadn't talked to him things wouldn't have gotten to this stage and we wouldn't have ended up where we are. I could have held out. I could have made it.
I still want to die and the only way to paralise the feeling is to sit and stare at a computer and play mindless games and smoke myself stupid and wish for a beer. I'm in a rut and only time will get me out but for the time being it sucks.
I thought he might have actually cared for me.
It seems that this is not the case. At 1:46 PM on August 16th, 2003, Phillip John Hart broke up with me via e-mail. All this time I could have sworn there was some salvation to this relationship, that there was some future... I would never have ended the relationship on my own because of this belief.
All I wanted was to be happy with him. It seems that he did not want the same with me.
And Ben just happened to be around to provide a sympathy fuck. He is now convinced that he is in love with me and as of last night I think I may have just convinced him to stop doing drugs for me.
I would tell nobody this now but it will be read: I want to die. Please don't approach me with sympathy. I don't want it. I just want this travesty of life to end. It's that or vanish from Baton Rouge and not return for the rest of my life.
And I'm sorry. To all the ones who thought I was a better person than this: I apologise. To Nina, to Anne, to Alex. I am not. I didn't make the right decisions. I didn't do anything right. I just got fucked over and then went and fucked myself over for some sort of cheap psychological revenge which won't affect anyone in the end but me.
Sorry guys. I quote Tori.
years go by, will I still be waiting
Take a fairly one-sided relationship riddled with problems such as emotional and physical unavailability, a general apathy towards the problems of the uke, and sprinkle it with a healthy dose of working overtime and general mental/physical stress.
You have my life.
Throw into this mix one seventeen year-old (Ben™) of fair physical attractiveness, relative innocence/stupidity, and similar sexual persuasion that enjoys cuddling with me and sleeping in my bed and wants to do dirty things to me.
You have my current dilemma.
Inject into the turkey after ten minutes of cooking a healthy shot of Alex!™ (a spice which strongly suggests a quick meaningless fuck as the best solution to the situation) and then throw on some Rodneyna ™ (a garnish which begins to heat up to a blazing glare at the first sign of infidelity but still pretends to be tasteless and neutral) and you have a dish that would make even the most stable, well-adjusted person want to commit suicide.
I think I'm throwing the turkey away and starting over. I know I don't want Ben and I know any affection shown would not simply be innocent, friendly cameraderie. I shall stay true. I won't betray anyone after the things I've said. I can't. To do so would be a cardinal sin and I would tear myself apart with guilt.
Anyway it stands I love who I love and won't cease feeling that way without a good deal more pain and suffering. So I begin again. Let me pray that I can maintain this curiously strong faith.
So yet again I've found some way to survive. Now that I think there's some problem that needs to be fixed and now that I feel that him getting out of Baker and his parents' house will fix it I know that there is something to look forward to.
I know that there's some point past which this relationship can really be analised. Right now, it's in too much of a state of suspended animation. Things cannot proceed smoothly with him stuck in Hell's Kitchen and Lebanese Café.
When he is free, he will be free. And then, I do believe, a few of those lovely blocks will be destroyed. If not, I'll simply have to reevaluate the relationship.
I pray it won't come to that.
the wind blows through a withered pine
Wow. I'm actually ridiculously tired. It's sort of nice, though; my mind tends to shut down and stay away from negative thoughts when I'm exhausted (nothing mentioning the strange feeling of accomplishment I get when I'm at the end of my proverbial rope).
Saturday and undisturbed sleep will be nice, though.
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