Thursday, September 27, 2007

To I know who...


This is bad.
Part of me knows I fucked up big time. Part of me knows that if I had stayed, my heart would have exploded in my chest...no literally, I'm not sure of the last time I have felt such a rise in blood pressure. I was actually scared. It's the reason I left.

I'm not old enough for this.

I don't understand.

I don't know what faith is. I don't know that I've ever had it. The word hope means very little to me. I've never been sure of God but I wouldn't ever tell anyone not to believe. Never. I love that people believe. It makes them more human than I.

I like to "gut check" myself every once in a while...I test myself and really try hard to remain unresponsive to the pain I put myself through by watching all the Kate pictures on the screen saver on purpose.

The silence scares me more than the words.

If only I had known.

Why hide?

I'm too young to understand.

I want to.

I have always felt that by being less human, I could make myself unresponsive to all the pain, the genetics that I can't overcome, the feelings of being a woman that make me sick to my stomach. There is something really wrong with me. Before I had ever met Chris I looked around at guys...at girls...nothing. I couldn't find anyone I was attracted to...no one I felt was good looking or had a good enough personality. Not just for me...but at all. Instead of getting rid of the pain and the jealousy and the anger, I got rid of the most basic parts of being human. The part I used to love the most. The human interaction...I used to crave it.

One night a hand full of months ago we were in bed. He kissed me and for a brief fleeting moment I had felt something I'd never ever felt before. I felt human, I felt vulnerable, I felt willing, and I felt this odd sort of one-ness and peace overcome me in flowing sheets. It scared the living shit out of me. Peace? Me? And with another human? No. It couldn't be. I can't. With this peaceful feeling will come pain and hurt. With this one-ness will come jealousy and fear. The things I had cultivated out of myself were back.

No, I haven't experienced what you have. No, I will never understand it. Yes, it will always hurt me to think of it. I lie to myself every single day to cover up the silence. The parts I know you are leaving out of your story to appease me. It makes me feel guilty. If you can't tell me, If I'm that kind of person, then you don't want me.

I hear every open ended pause when you stop yourself from saying something you think will make me angry. And for that I'm sorry.

And even though you meant your apology, how would I know? I'm literally batting nil. I have absolutely no clue. None.

It's ironic actually. All the things I wish I could stop in myself...I expect from him. Jealousy. No, I'm not nor will I cheat. Period. Not if no one would ever find out. Not for a million dollars. But would it be too much to ask for a little jealousy? I tried not to show mine. It was going well too. I mean, on the outside. Letting it roll off my back. I loved that about me. But I hated being me.

I can't get over the fact that I'm human. I have managed to overcome a lot of pitfalls that I've seen others fall into. I've never experience heartbreak. I've never been left. I can let go. I have to. But this leaves me ignorant.

I never know if I'm important enough. I never know if it even matters. I never know what I should be concerned over and I get confused and start getting concerned over everything. Then I get angry like a tired child who doesn't understand why they are crying. I'm tired. And I don't understand.

I suck. I love him. I love his children. I am in love. I am exhausted.

I can't change the feelings I end up having. Not for anything. Like when I went to church. It was nice but I was never convinced of what they were telling me. I can't believe what I don't. Just as I can't change my love. Because I do. I love.
I don't just hold onto bad feelings. I hold onto things like tonight, wrapping your arms around me. Like telling me how your day has gone. I would listen for hours. Like hearing the excitement in your voice when you told your daughter you got to wear the blue uniform. Like watching her cry in your arms. Like remembering how proud I was of you when you started running. Because it wasn't for me. Like taking you climbing for the first time to Datil and loving every minute of it.
But I knew you wouldn't stop me when I left. And that's okay. It's not your fault.

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