The heart and emotions are funny things. Logic seldom plays a part in these matters. At least in my world. Love is what rules my life. More than anything else, I need someone to love, and someone that loves me. To hold and touch and kiss and...to keep loving. Today, tomorrow, always.
I have never really been able to make decisions with my head. Logic and common sense always go out the window. My heart jumps in. Emotions swirl about like a hurricane. Sparks fly and I lose control. All logic goes out the window.
I have tried several times to not follow love. Make more sensible choices. Love seldom lasts forever. One person, along the journey, changes their views. There needs change. There wants and desires change. Love fades. Sometimes it tries to changes and adapt. Sometimes things are just broken and can't be fixed.
At one point both halves of a couple are eager and excited to spend time together. Get to know the other persons secrets. What happens when there are no more secrets? What happens when the excitement dims? When the sparks no longer fly?
Love leaves us vulnerable. In order to love you have to be able to let down your walls and your guard. You have to open yourself up to unimaginable pain. Because with great pleasure comes great pain. In my life, love has always ended in great pain. It has almost always been worth it.
In the times of pain I swear I will never love again. I promise myself that I will never let my guard down. Never let anyone in as close again. Never let anyone else know all of your secrets. To never be vulnerable.
I have finally discovered that my greatest fear is not being alone, it's being vulnerable.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Killing Me Softly...
I keep telling myself that I'm doing it all for them. I have to keep telling myself. There is no other reason.
Four days of 13 hours. One day of 10 hours. By the time I get days off I'm so tired I collapse and spend much of my time off, asleep.
In the mornings I wake up a few minutes before Mr. Man goes to school. I take him. That's it. That's all I get to see the little guy today, or the next three days. I come home in time to hear,"Gotta go".
Sometimes I get a very quick, tight lipped peck. Passionless. Emotionless. Some day's all I hear is the "Gotta go" before I hear the door open and close as she leaves.
She talks about moving. Our future. Once in awhile She says things like, she loves me and that she cares. A few weeks ago she said I had a cute butt, as she grazed a cheek with the back of her hand.
That's as close as we get. A few minutes a day. As intimate as room mates.
That's it. Every day. Day after day. That's it. And it's killing me. Slowly killing me. Every day. Every time she says something even slightly caring. Every time she touches me then pulls away, it's killing me.
I don't know how to live a passionless life. I need to have a lover I can share with. I can hold and touch and kiss and know that it's "us" against the world trying to make a better life.
Instead I live alone with my child and his mom, and I'm working two jobs for 70 hours a week for practically nothing, and it's killing me.
Four days of 13 hours. One day of 10 hours. By the time I get days off I'm so tired I collapse and spend much of my time off, asleep.
In the mornings I wake up a few minutes before Mr. Man goes to school. I take him. That's it. That's all I get to see the little guy today, or the next three days. I come home in time to hear,"Gotta go".
Sometimes I get a very quick, tight lipped peck. Passionless. Emotionless. Some day's all I hear is the "Gotta go" before I hear the door open and close as she leaves.
She talks about moving. Our future. Once in awhile She says things like, she loves me and that she cares. A few weeks ago she said I had a cute butt, as she grazed a cheek with the back of her hand.
That's as close as we get. A few minutes a day. As intimate as room mates.
That's it. Every day. Day after day. That's it. And it's killing me. Slowly killing me. Every day. Every time she says something even slightly caring. Every time she touches me then pulls away, it's killing me.
I don't know how to live a passionless life. I need to have a lover I can share with. I can hold and touch and kiss and know that it's "us" against the world trying to make a better life.
Instead I live alone with my child and his mom, and I'm working two jobs for 70 hours a week for practically nothing, and it's killing me.
Contradictions...
First, I should never write while I've been drinking. It always makes for awkward conversations later.
OK, even non drinking writing leads to awkward conversations but the former stands.
Second, I will never understand people as long as I live. Any of you. You are all a giant mystery to me. I used to think that I could read people pretty well. That was apparently a gift that can be lost when not used on a regular basis. Use it or loose it as they say.
Mainly I will never understand her. Her words and actions don't always mesh. I thought that I had been misunderstanding. OK, I'm very sure I have misunderstood much of what has happened but some if it has been in writing. I have it, ink on paper. I read things over and over and compare them to the things I hear. I compare them to the things I see. They don't go together.
Somewhere along the line, the rules have changed. The goals have changed. Everything seems to have changed. Except me. I don't feel like I've changed. Yet I realize that everything is speeding past me. Forever changing around me. It all seems to contradict itself. We want one thing but we ask for something else. Then seem confused when we get either.
I don't get it. Blissfully happy and unaware, then poof!
Sadly, love is not one of life's' constants. It does contradict itself as well as the people it devours.
There is no explaining love. It is what it is. It's fabulous and wonderful. Until it isn't.
OK, even non drinking writing leads to awkward conversations but the former stands.
Second, I will never understand people as long as I live. Any of you. You are all a giant mystery to me. I used to think that I could read people pretty well. That was apparently a gift that can be lost when not used on a regular basis. Use it or loose it as they say.
Mainly I will never understand her. Her words and actions don't always mesh. I thought that I had been misunderstanding. OK, I'm very sure I have misunderstood much of what has happened but some if it has been in writing. I have it, ink on paper. I read things over and over and compare them to the things I hear. I compare them to the things I see. They don't go together.
Somewhere along the line, the rules have changed. The goals have changed. Everything seems to have changed. Except me. I don't feel like I've changed. Yet I realize that everything is speeding past me. Forever changing around me. It all seems to contradict itself. We want one thing but we ask for something else. Then seem confused when we get either.
I don't get it. Blissfully happy and unaware, then poof!
Sadly, love is not one of life's' constants. It does contradict itself as well as the people it devours.
There is no explaining love. It is what it is. It's fabulous and wonderful. Until it isn't.
Words Fail To Express My Feelings...
My Dearest Precious,
As this day of our tenth anniversary has been approaching, I have searched the recesses of my mind looking for the perfect words. The right rhyme or meter. Anything that could accurately express what I truly feel for you. Words will never do.
I keep thinking of the day we met. I was sitting at the end of the desk looking out into the mall. You were wearing your brown paisley skirt and silky button up top, unbuttoned just enough. Brown strappy come hither pumps.
I knew instantly that you would change my life forever. I could never have imagined just how much.
If I were to live a million years I would never be able to return what you have given me. Your constant support (in more ways than one), your understanding, compassion and forgiveness. Your love and your honesty.
Even when it was hard for you to be honest and open with me, you were.
No matter what kind of asshatery I came up with, you have always been there for me.
I know I don’t always deserve you, but I spend every day trying to be the man I know I can be for you.
Everyday my affection and love for you grows. Although this isn’t the way I planned on spending our tenth anniversary, I look forward to the next 73 years of love and adventure. With never a dull moment.
Happy anniversary my love
How An Hour A Day, Changed My Life.
I started helping at Mr. Mans school this year. I helped last year too but it was very hit and miss and the teacher always sent me to the office to staple things and sharpen pencils. I never helped in the class.
This year I started helping with a reading program for second graders. I started off by going in for an hour, one day a week. Very soon it became two or three days a week. Then I was going in everyday, five days a week. Now I'm up to five days a week with two extra hour on Wednesdays as well.
I can't begin to tell you how those little creatures have changed me. I will never be able to give them as much as they give me.
The irony of this, is that they break my heart. OK not all of them. It's just a few that break my heart.
Everyday I get told by these kids, about brothers and sisters that beat them. Parents that are in jail. Families that consist of gang bangers, drug dealers, general dead beats, and all the joys of living near a military base. Single parents, abusive parents, or no parents at all.
One of the boys came in last week with gang graffiti all over his arms. Drawn in large Sharpie marker so it wouldn't come off. When I asked about it, he smiled and told me that his older brother did it to him. The boy fell asleep on the sofa and his brother tagged him. Today that same boy told me about "getting" to go to court yesterday because both of his parents are facing drug and gang charges. He smiled and told me he missed reading class but was glad to be back today. He asked how my weekend was. Every week this boy tells me about his mom letting him watch movies like "The Saw", "Chuckie", "Halloween", and the nightmares that follow. He's 7. But every day he has the biggest smile on his face. Even when he tells me about him mother teaching him how to tag things and not get caught, he's so proud of her. You can see and hear the love he has for his family.
Yesterday a little girl came up and took my hand. She wanted me to walk with her to her next class. She says, "Mr. William, would you like to hear something sad?" Not really I told her. I don't care for sad stories. They're sad.
"It's not all sad." she tells me. Her father had to go away until next spring, but when he comes home she said they will do what ever she wants to do. That sounds like a good deal I told her. I asked if her dad was in the military or if he was shipped away.
She said,"Oh no Mr. William, Daddy went to jail. He can't stop the drugs." She smiled and gave me a big hug. Said "See you tomorrow!" and skipped away to her class.
Almost everyday I leave school fighting back tears. Today as I rode my bike home I almost crashed because I was could see straight. Tears pouring out of me.
They are all such happy little buggers. No matter what horrors they are going through at home. Everyday they greet me with a warm smiles, hugs and high fives. So pleased to see me. When I'm not there they all ask about me and want to know why I had missed school.
Today they had a substitute. When I told them that I couldn't stay because they schedule had changed, they gave a collective sigh of sadness and begged me to stay. "Why can't you stay instead of the sub?" They asked. In front of the sub. I felt bad for her. I told them, "Ms. L will be great fun today, just be good and listen close. I'll be back tomorrow." Half of them rushed me for hugs and high fives.
Some of them, I just want to take home with me and tell them that they will never have to live with those things again. I want to wrap my arms around them and save them from their own families. But I can't. As much as want to save them...I can't. I get one hour a day. Two and a half on Wednesdays.
I worry about them. I think about them. Even though I'm not religious, I pray for them, just in case I'm wrong.
I know I can't save them, but every day I can give them an hour. It can be one of the most difficult hours of every day. But it's usually one of the most rewarding as well. And I wouldn't give it up.
I really hope they can get back even a little of what they give me.
This year I started helping with a reading program for second graders. I started off by going in for an hour, one day a week. Very soon it became two or three days a week. Then I was going in everyday, five days a week. Now I'm up to five days a week with two extra hour on Wednesdays as well.
I can't begin to tell you how those little creatures have changed me. I will never be able to give them as much as they give me.
The irony of this, is that they break my heart. OK not all of them. It's just a few that break my heart.
Everyday I get told by these kids, about brothers and sisters that beat them. Parents that are in jail. Families that consist of gang bangers, drug dealers, general dead beats, and all the joys of living near a military base. Single parents, abusive parents, or no parents at all.
One of the boys came in last week with gang graffiti all over his arms. Drawn in large Sharpie marker so it wouldn't come off. When I asked about it, he smiled and told me that his older brother did it to him. The boy fell asleep on the sofa and his brother tagged him. Today that same boy told me about "getting" to go to court yesterday because both of his parents are facing drug and gang charges. He smiled and told me he missed reading class but was glad to be back today. He asked how my weekend was. Every week this boy tells me about his mom letting him watch movies like "The Saw", "Chuckie", "Halloween", and the nightmares that follow. He's 7. But every day he has the biggest smile on his face. Even when he tells me about him mother teaching him how to tag things and not get caught, he's so proud of her. You can see and hear the love he has for his family.
Yesterday a little girl came up and took my hand. She wanted me to walk with her to her next class. She says, "Mr. William, would you like to hear something sad?" Not really I told her. I don't care for sad stories. They're sad.
"It's not all sad." she tells me. Her father had to go away until next spring, but when he comes home she said they will do what ever she wants to do. That sounds like a good deal I told her. I asked if her dad was in the military or if he was shipped away.
She said,"Oh no Mr. William, Daddy went to jail. He can't stop the drugs." She smiled and gave me a big hug. Said "See you tomorrow!" and skipped away to her class.
Almost everyday I leave school fighting back tears. Today as I rode my bike home I almost crashed because I was could see straight. Tears pouring out of me.
They are all such happy little buggers. No matter what horrors they are going through at home. Everyday they greet me with a warm smiles, hugs and high fives. So pleased to see me. When I'm not there they all ask about me and want to know why I had missed school.
Today they had a substitute. When I told them that I couldn't stay because they schedule had changed, they gave a collective sigh of sadness and begged me to stay. "Why can't you stay instead of the sub?" They asked. In front of the sub. I felt bad for her. I told them, "Ms. L will be great fun today, just be good and listen close. I'll be back tomorrow." Half of them rushed me for hugs and high fives.
Some of them, I just want to take home with me and tell them that they will never have to live with those things again. I want to wrap my arms around them and save them from their own families. But I can't. As much as want to save them...I can't. I get one hour a day. Two and a half on Wednesdays.
I worry about them. I think about them. Even though I'm not religious, I pray for them, just in case I'm wrong.
I know I can't save them, but every day I can give them an hour. It can be one of the most difficult hours of every day. But it's usually one of the most rewarding as well. And I wouldn't give it up.
I really hope they can get back even a little of what they give me.
Solid...
“Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives.”
― C. S. Lewis
Affection Vs. Admiration...
The need for affection is not bad, but the need for admiration creates problems. We all need affection from God, affection from our dear ones. It is the mutual giving of affection that keeps us alive. Without the mother's affection, it is impossible for us to live. But without admiration, easily we can live. The absence of affection from our dear ones is simply death. But if somebody does not admire us, no harm. Affection is in the same category as love. But admiration is totally different. When we are admired, the ego can come to the fore and destroy us. But when we are shown affection and loved, at that time our divine qualities increase. So when you get affection and love, you don't have to worry. But when you get admiration, you have to be careful.
Bitterness...
"BITTERNESS IS THE ENEMY OF LOVE BECAUSE IT MAKES YOU UNFORGIVING AND UNWILLING TO LOVE UNCONDITIONALLY.....
IT IS THE ENEMY OF HOPE BECAUSE YOU KEEP LIVING IN THE PAST AND BECOME INCAPABLE OF SEEING A BETTER FUTURE......
IT IS THE ENEMY OF FAITH BECAUSE YOU STOP TRUSTING IN ANYONE BUT YOURSELF........ IF YOU ARE NOT CAREFUL, YOU WILL LOSE THE ABILITY TO SEE SUCH THINGS AS BEAUTY, TRUTH, OR EVEN AFFECTION....
AND YOU MAY CLOSE YOUR EYES TO WHAT YOUR SOUL NEEDS YOU TO SEE MOST..... "
Caution: Words May Be Slippery When Wet...
It was a lovely night. Small fire illuminating the room. They're snuggled together on the floor.
"Close your eyes." he says, "I have something for you."
She closes her eyes. He slides dangly earrings through her lobes and places a matching chain around her neck.
They kiss and embrace. He softly says, "It's not much, but you're worth it."
......?
"Close your eyes." he says, "I have something for you."
She closes her eyes. He slides dangly earrings through her lobes and places a matching chain around her neck.
They kiss and embrace. He softly says, "It's not much, but you're worth it."
......?
IVY - Sept 1998 to Oct 2010
It's difficult to sum up in words what an impact some creatures have on our lives. For the last twelve years you have brought us joy, laughter and happiness. A constant companion that went every where with us. Letting us roll you in a towel like a burrito in order to sneak you into hotels. Sleeping on our laps as we drove across country. Several times. Sleeping by Mr. Man's bed when he was new to our family. You were a wonderful big sister
A champion soft Frisbee catcher. OCD about tennis balls. A master body surfer, for some one vertically challenged. A loyal and trusted friend and our little girl.
You will be remembered in everything we do. I hope you find that farm in the country where all dogs go when they get old.
We love you.
So Far...
One of the greatest obstacles I face as an artist, is knowing when to quit. Actually, it's not just with my art. I have the same issue with everyday life. I never quite know when to stop.
I do know that trying to over analyze things only makes them worse. My instincts are fairly good and following my heart has taken me on an unforgettable journey. I regret none of it.
So why change things when a few minor adjustments would do the trick? Simple is almost always better.
What to do with paintings that just don't sell? Often I paint over them and create something new. This time I decided to be a little less dramatic and a bit more cosmetic. Maybe they could just be re-worked.
I picked out six works that have been collecting dust and gave them a little something extra.
Here are two of them at the, "so far" stage. So far, so good.
Before
After
Before
After
This is just fun with scotch tape. The first four strips are on my face. I eventually had eleven. Sorry, no photo of that. Mr. Man was beginning to freak out and ran to hide.
Always remember and never forget: Love only works if you give it away. So spread the love.
Mending Fences...
How do you mend a fence that has now been broken twice? What can you do to fix a mistake...a flaw?...maybe, the mistake, has now been repeated and the fence torn. Does a flaw imply a lack of responsibility? Probably. Which makes the mistake all the worse and actions can only be blamed on the stupidity of the person in question. Sort of a, "What the fuck were you thinking?!" moment. Maybe not the first time, but most certainly the second. There is no other excuse than pure stupidity.
It's been said that you can't fix stupid. Wow, I hope that isn't true.
But back to my original thought. The lack of thought. You get it? The first time, there was...
Shit!
No. There was no thought the first time either. Pure fucking egotistical stupidity. Yes, ego. Thinking about your actions before, and deciding that you are too smart and won't get caught tearing down sections of fence.
And why you ask, would someone want to tear down a fence?
Because they think they deserve more than they have earned. Simple as that. Greed. Fucking greed! Wanting more than you deserve and thinking you deserve more than you have earned. So not, the person I believe myself to be. I despise greed, of all kinds. It's not just about money and power. It applies on many levels.
Now this fence that I speak of is not just a fence. It's an agreement. We are going to live connected to one another. On each side of the fence are our responsibilities. For the connection to work, each must keep up their responsibilities. They each need to tend to the fence. Equally. Honestly.
After all, sharing a fence is a huge commitment. You are going to be joined with this other person for ever. You need to be close.
Some people know right away if they could share a fence. I did. As soon we met, I knew we were going to be friends. Long before we would share a fence together.
Very early on, I had a few tough decisions to make. There were a lot of people involved. A great deal at stake. Maybe, maybe not. It seemed so at the time. (Hind-sight is a curse) I chose poorly. and I hurt everyone involved because when it came right down to it, I wanted to cover my ass and not admit that I had done anything wrong. I was forced by the actions of someone else first, blah blah blah...
I. Chose. Poorly.
My best friend, forgave me. I knew that I needed to share a fence with this wonderful person. My best friend. I wanted them in my life on a daily basis. To share everything with the other. Mind, body and soul.
Years go by. Life is grand. We have share everything. We have seen the best and worst of the other and never flinched. We lived our lives side by side, connected, joined, by our fence. Even added a little cross section of fence that dissected our fence.
One day, a voice in my head told me to tear down part of our fence. Our connection. And give it to someone else. I knew someone else a long time ago.
I was faced with a choice. Now the person I believe myself to be, knows right away. Without thought. That the answer is no. Why would I give away part of our fence? I wouldn't.
I'm heart broken to admit, but that, is exactly what I did.
Now, had I gone to my best friend at the beginning and told them what my little voice was saying, I'm sure it would not have been a problem, we could have worked out why my voice is an idiot and laughed about all of it later.
Instead, I kept it to myself and hoped my best friend wouldn't notice or find out about the missing piece of fence. Really. I can't even imagine me doing something like that even as I read the words back to myself. What kind of best friend am I? What kind of any friend? Twice now I have done something that goes against everything that I claim to be. It goes against everything I want to be. One of which is a good example and care taker to our little fence. There is a right way and a wrong way to treat people.
Well twice now, I have forgotten that rule.
I. Chose. Poorly.
Except this time, It's different. There is so much more involved this time. Truly, so much more at stake.
Like the first time, my best friend gave me another chance. Thank you. I promise to be worthy.
However this time, as the fence gets mended, there will be a piece missing. A small piece of our fence that I gave away.
I said it before. I said it this time too. I'm sorry. To my best friend. To our little fence. To my old friend.
You all deserved more from me. But especially my best friend. A person that I have now spent more time with, than any other human. A huge part of who I am and who I want to be. Someone that I would be incomplete with out.
It's been said that you can't fix stupid. Wow, I hope that isn't true.
But back to my original thought. The lack of thought. You get it? The first time, there was...
Shit!
No. There was no thought the first time either. Pure fucking egotistical stupidity. Yes, ego. Thinking about your actions before, and deciding that you are too smart and won't get caught tearing down sections of fence.
And why you ask, would someone want to tear down a fence?
Because they think they deserve more than they have earned. Simple as that. Greed. Fucking greed! Wanting more than you deserve and thinking you deserve more than you have earned. So not, the person I believe myself to be. I despise greed, of all kinds. It's not just about money and power. It applies on many levels.
Now this fence that I speak of is not just a fence. It's an agreement. We are going to live connected to one another. On each side of the fence are our responsibilities. For the connection to work, each must keep up their responsibilities. They each need to tend to the fence. Equally. Honestly.
After all, sharing a fence is a huge commitment. You are going to be joined with this other person for ever. You need to be close.
Some people know right away if they could share a fence. I did. As soon we met, I knew we were going to be friends. Long before we would share a fence together.
Very early on, I had a few tough decisions to make. There were a lot of people involved. A great deal at stake. Maybe, maybe not. It seemed so at the time. (Hind-sight is a curse) I chose poorly. and I hurt everyone involved because when it came right down to it, I wanted to cover my ass and not admit that I had done anything wrong. I was forced by the actions of someone else first, blah blah blah...
I. Chose. Poorly.
My best friend, forgave me. I knew that I needed to share a fence with this wonderful person. My best friend. I wanted them in my life on a daily basis. To share everything with the other. Mind, body and soul.
Years go by. Life is grand. We have share everything. We have seen the best and worst of the other and never flinched. We lived our lives side by side, connected, joined, by our fence. Even added a little cross section of fence that dissected our fence.
One day, a voice in my head told me to tear down part of our fence. Our connection. And give it to someone else. I knew someone else a long time ago.
I was faced with a choice. Now the person I believe myself to be, knows right away. Without thought. That the answer is no. Why would I give away part of our fence? I wouldn't.
I'm heart broken to admit, but that, is exactly what I did.
Now, had I gone to my best friend at the beginning and told them what my little voice was saying, I'm sure it would not have been a problem, we could have worked out why my voice is an idiot and laughed about all of it later.
Instead, I kept it to myself and hoped my best friend wouldn't notice or find out about the missing piece of fence. Really. I can't even imagine me doing something like that even as I read the words back to myself. What kind of best friend am I? What kind of any friend? Twice now I have done something that goes against everything that I claim to be. It goes against everything I want to be. One of which is a good example and care taker to our little fence. There is a right way and a wrong way to treat people.
Well twice now, I have forgotten that rule.
I. Chose. Poorly.
Except this time, It's different. There is so much more involved this time. Truly, so much more at stake.
Like the first time, my best friend gave me another chance. Thank you. I promise to be worthy.
However this time, as the fence gets mended, there will be a piece missing. A small piece of our fence that I gave away.
I said it before. I said it this time too. I'm sorry. To my best friend. To our little fence. To my old friend.
You all deserved more from me. But especially my best friend. A person that I have now spent more time with, than any other human. A huge part of who I am and who I want to be. Someone that I would be incomplete with out.
Misplaced...
Being the romantic type, I have been in love many times in my life. As life goes, most have ended in one way or another. The greatest of them was Precious. Not just that this love was the most recent, but because it was very different than the others. A new level. A new connection. A new reality. Several new fantasies. It changed me as a person. It changed the way I think and act.
It was beyond problems. It was what all others dream of having. A connection that has been between us for thousands of years.
The more one gives of themselves, the more risk of eventual pain proportionate to the level of yourself given. Looking back, the thought of being hurt, never occurred to me. We were beyond pain.
(One of the side effects of love is poor perception and reasoning skills when related to your love interest.)
This is probably how I missed that something was wrong. The connection we had...the dream I thought we were...had been misplaced. Problems. What I thought we were, was no longer. Lost in a moving box perhaps, not yet unpacked.
Love changes. It grows and thrives. It withers and dies. It's seldom dull and often painful, sometimes misplaced. Worth the chance, every time. For the greatest of loves, it's worth living in a bit of pain if it means finding us again.
It was beyond problems. It was what all others dream of having. A connection that has been between us for thousands of years.
The more one gives of themselves, the more risk of eventual pain proportionate to the level of yourself given. Looking back, the thought of being hurt, never occurred to me. We were beyond pain.
(One of the side effects of love is poor perception and reasoning skills when related to your love interest.)
This is probably how I missed that something was wrong. The connection we had...the dream I thought we were...had been misplaced. Problems. What I thought we were, was no longer. Lost in a moving box perhaps, not yet unpacked.
Love changes. It grows and thrives. It withers and dies. It's seldom dull and often painful, sometimes misplaced. Worth the chance, every time. For the greatest of loves, it's worth living in a bit of pain if it means finding us again.
Unaware Or Don't Care...
I try to be aware of the things I say to others, and the impact those words have. Especially when I'm saying things that might not be what they want to hear.
But what do you do when someone says things, and they seem to have no idea of what they've done.
They have broken your heart and made you question everything that you thought you knew about them, or about yourself. Then a day later everything is, as it was before. Or somewhat at least.
You think to yourself: Maybe they don't realize what they said or the impact it had. Or worse, they do realize what they've done and they don't care.
I've been trying to process everything, not necessarily by choice. I can't get it out of my head. Thinking about what was said and how it was meant. Thinking about the week that has followed and how those actions feed the things that were said in the years before. Confirming them in a way I had not seen before. Or had seen but been denying until confronted.
The things from the past make more sense in a way, and at the same time they have become more cruel than I had previously thought. I have all new doubts in my mind. All new fears.
I've never liked or been good at confrontation but I'm not sure I can let this go or stick it in the vault and try to forget. Somethings are too big to lock away.
Confrontation could and probably will make things worse, but if they're as bad as they seem they can't really get worse. Maybe not knowing for sure is worse than clearing the air.
I guess it is possible that I have misunderstood and am way off base. I don't think so, but I have to keep it as at least one of the possibilities because at this point it's the only positive, and I need at least one positive in this scenario.
Anyway I look at it, I'm confused.
But what do you do when someone says things, and they seem to have no idea of what they've done.
They have broken your heart and made you question everything that you thought you knew about them, or about yourself. Then a day later everything is, as it was before. Or somewhat at least.
You think to yourself: Maybe they don't realize what they said or the impact it had. Or worse, they do realize what they've done and they don't care.
I've been trying to process everything, not necessarily by choice. I can't get it out of my head. Thinking about what was said and how it was meant. Thinking about the week that has followed and how those actions feed the things that were said in the years before. Confirming them in a way I had not seen before. Or had seen but been denying until confronted.
The things from the past make more sense in a way, and at the same time they have become more cruel than I had previously thought. I have all new doubts in my mind. All new fears.
I've never liked or been good at confrontation but I'm not sure I can let this go or stick it in the vault and try to forget. Somethings are too big to lock away.
Confrontation could and probably will make things worse, but if they're as bad as they seem they can't really get worse. Maybe not knowing for sure is worse than clearing the air.
I guess it is possible that I have misunderstood and am way off base. I don't think so, but I have to keep it as at least one of the possibilities because at this point it's the only positive, and I need at least one positive in this scenario.
Anyway I look at it, I'm confused.
Illusions...
Pain is a funny thing. I've experienced a lot of it my life. Been cut and stabbed, burned, had bones broken, eyes poked, had friends killed and loved ones lost, even been hit by a car. Some of these things left scars that will last forever, but the pain I felt at the time was fleeting and faded.
Of all of the things that have hurt me, it was a few simple words that caused the most pain. It was the pain of those words that has lasted the longest. Time does not heal all wounds.
Sometimes it's something simple and silly that brings those pains back.
Sometimes you get a reminder, that every thing you thought you were...you're not. Every thing you thought you had done...you didn't. Every thing you thought you had...you don't. Sometimes every thing you thought was real, is an illusion. It was only real in your head.
It's a rude awakening to find that you have been kidding yourself. It's a harsh reality to be reminded that even the simplest of mistakes, that took only a few moments if your life time and seemed innocent at the time, will haunt you. Some sins and crimes you pay for, for the rest of your life. No matter how much you've payed your debt, you can never pay it back.
Somethings lost, are lost forever and no amount of searching can find them again.
Even if people can forgive, they wont ever really forget. And as long as they remember, you're never really truly forgiven.
Of all of the things that have hurt me, it was a few simple words that caused the most pain. It was the pain of those words that has lasted the longest. Time does not heal all wounds.
Sometimes it's something simple and silly that brings those pains back.
Sometimes you get a reminder, that every thing you thought you were...you're not. Every thing you thought you had done...you didn't. Every thing you thought you had...you don't. Sometimes every thing you thought was real, is an illusion. It was only real in your head.
It's a rude awakening to find that you have been kidding yourself. It's a harsh reality to be reminded that even the simplest of mistakes, that took only a few moments if your life time and seemed innocent at the time, will haunt you. Some sins and crimes you pay for, for the rest of your life. No matter how much you've payed your debt, you can never pay it back.
Somethings lost, are lost forever and no amount of searching can find them again.
Even if people can forgive, they wont ever really forget. And as long as they remember, you're never really truly forgiven.
A Smile Reserved For Her...
There are days when things are discombobulated. The mind has removed itself from the full body network, in order to wander semi-aimlessly. The body automatically turns on auto pilot. You do the things that need to be done. Without thinking about it.
Makes me wonder what may have actually been said to the people he came in contact with. I know the mouth was talking and the body was doing things. The mind, was in another hemisphere, checking in on reality only when absolutely necessary...
They're spending their first day together. Meeting at a small tea house. Sitting to watch the rain fall but never taking their eyes from the other. There is no memory of the conversation. Most likely small talk. Love was in the air. Little electric discharges could be seen each time they touched. The sun shown on them alone. Birds followed with song.
Puddles were jumped in. Hands were held and lips were kissed. Poems read by candle light and incense. A vase of flowers spilled down the back of the TV. Cowboy boots worn inappropriately. Mongolian BBQ, ravenous and disheveled. Blissfully unaware.
Each time the story changes just a bit, but stays the same. Two people so lost in one another, the rest of the world becomes a blur of motion and muted sounds.
I've heard the story so many times, each time as if it's new. A smile crosses his face. A smile unlike any other. It's reserved for her. His eyes glaze over and he's gone again. Back to her and one of his favorite days.
Makes me wonder what may have actually been said to the people he came in contact with. I know the mouth was talking and the body was doing things. The mind, was in another hemisphere, checking in on reality only when absolutely necessary...
They're spending their first day together. Meeting at a small tea house. Sitting to watch the rain fall but never taking their eyes from the other. There is no memory of the conversation. Most likely small talk. Love was in the air. Little electric discharges could be seen each time they touched. The sun shown on them alone. Birds followed with song.
Puddles were jumped in. Hands were held and lips were kissed. Poems read by candle light and incense. A vase of flowers spilled down the back of the TV. Cowboy boots worn inappropriately. Mongolian BBQ, ravenous and disheveled. Blissfully unaware.
Each time the story changes just a bit, but stays the same. Two people so lost in one another, the rest of the world becomes a blur of motion and muted sounds.
I've heard the story so many times, each time as if it's new. A smile crosses his face. A smile unlike any other. It's reserved for her. His eyes glaze over and he's gone again. Back to her and one of his favorite days.
Did I Just Hear Your Eyes Roll?
Having never spent this much time away from my love before it's really making me crazy. I talk with friends, and they say,"You're just sad and lonely, you might not mean the the things you say to me"
True, I am sad and a bit lonely, but I still love my friends. Anywho...
I am beginning to see some differences between the sexes now that I'm on my own. I spent an hour and some talking with precious tonight. We have been apart for almost three weeks now. My mind is living in the area of, well...constant sex. I miss having a warm body to sleep with, to hold, fondle, kiss and play with. So when I talk with Precious on the phone, I think to myself...self...you should share these thoughts with her. It will show her how much you miss her and care for her.
So, I say things like, "I want to hold your naked body and lick you from head to toe and every where in between." In my most seductive and sexy voice of course.
What I can actually hear on the other end of the phone, is her eyes rolling in her head. Sex is not the furthest thing from her mind, but it's by all means not at the forefront either. In her mind, she is thinking of hugs, kisses and cuddling. A more spiritual bonding rather than a physical coupling. At which point I have no doubt, that she could hear my eyes rolling around in my head.
Go figure, men and women are different. We express love and our emotions in different ways. At the core, I think we are feeling the same things, or at least similar things , just expressing them differently.
Who'd a thunk it?
True, I am sad and a bit lonely, but I still love my friends. Anywho...
I am beginning to see some differences between the sexes now that I'm on my own. I spent an hour and some talking with precious tonight. We have been apart for almost three weeks now. My mind is living in the area of, well...constant sex. I miss having a warm body to sleep with, to hold, fondle, kiss and play with. So when I talk with Precious on the phone, I think to myself...self...you should share these thoughts with her. It will show her how much you miss her and care for her.
So, I say things like, "I want to hold your naked body and lick you from head to toe and every where in between." In my most seductive and sexy voice of course.
What I can actually hear on the other end of the phone, is her eyes rolling in her head. Sex is not the furthest thing from her mind, but it's by all means not at the forefront either. In her mind, she is thinking of hugs, kisses and cuddling. A more spiritual bonding rather than a physical coupling. At which point I have no doubt, that she could hear my eyes rolling around in my head.
Go figure, men and women are different. We express love and our emotions in different ways. At the core, I think we are feeling the same things, or at least similar things , just expressing them differently.
Who'd a thunk it?
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