Funny when you're dead how people start listening...
I need a place to vent, so this is where it's going to be. I don't know where this blog will land, so bear with me.
I went to a show on Wednesday night--the Veggies, the band with the drummer. He seemed happy, almost too happy. I've decided a couple months back that he should never have happened in my life. I've thought of all the moments in which I should have backed out of that situation and moved on, continuing my blissfully ignorant life of heartbreak and general brokenness. But I didn't. It was infuriating for me to see him so relaxed, enjoying his new playmate so thoroughly. I can't enjoy anyone, anymore. I'm not over exaggerating or being over dramatic. I really can't. Every time I've found myself in any form of romantic situation with a man since that night, I back out so quickly it probably leaves the guy's head spinning a bit. I'm afraid I don't know how to trust, anymore, which is tragic. Because I believe in love. I believe it's really out there; but I can't find it unless I take that initial dive. Now, I find I'm afraid of the water, and it's not fair. Every time I face it, I face another defeat and another small heartbreak. I sound like a whiny female, right now. And perhaps that's exactly what I am. Perhaps that's why so many of us are single and hoping for a love that's never going to be there.
The idea that love will never be in my life is a forbidding thought. In my eyes, love is the most important accomplishment someone can achieve in their life span because that's what's really going to matter in the end. And the thought that I may never be able to achieve that, now, leaves me blank. As an emotionally unstable person (not just as a woman, but also as a bipolar person), it often also leaves me slightly suicidal. Why would I want to live in a world where "love" is all promiscuous sex and "sharing intimacy" with someone I hardly know? That's all it seems to be, anymore. That's all they seem to want from me, anymore. And I feel like giving up most days.
This is all good and grand, but complaining about it does nothing. There's no need to worry about me because I'm too much of a coward to actually take my own life. I can't even talk myself out of cowardice. I've tried. Right now, I'm simply attempting to find my gentle way around this stiff barrier that has been created in my mind by a monster. I'm quietly sad most of the time, these days, despite my medications. I feel so completely broken, as if I used to be some wild thing but now that's over. It's like I'll never be the same again because he threw a saddle on my back, thrust a bit in my mouth, and took me for ride while using the height to look for a more worthy steed. It's a disgusting existence I lead, these days. I'm lonely, and I'm cold, and, more than ever, I'm tired.
I went to a show on Wednesday night--the Veggies, the band with the drummer. He seemed happy, almost too happy. I've decided a couple months back that he should never have happened in my life. I've thought of all the moments in which I should have backed out of that situation and moved on, continuing my blissfully ignorant life of heartbreak and general brokenness. But I didn't. It was infuriating for me to see him so relaxed, enjoying his new playmate so thoroughly. I can't enjoy anyone, anymore. I'm not over exaggerating or being over dramatic. I really can't. Every time I've found myself in any form of romantic situation with a man since that night, I back out so quickly it probably leaves the guy's head spinning a bit. I'm afraid I don't know how to trust, anymore, which is tragic. Because I believe in love. I believe it's really out there; but I can't find it unless I take that initial dive. Now, I find I'm afraid of the water, and it's not fair. Every time I face it, I face another defeat and another small heartbreak. I sound like a whiny female, right now. And perhaps that's exactly what I am. Perhaps that's why so many of us are single and hoping for a love that's never going to be there.
The idea that love will never be in my life is a forbidding thought. In my eyes, love is the most important accomplishment someone can achieve in their life span because that's what's really going to matter in the end. And the thought that I may never be able to achieve that, now, leaves me blank. As an emotionally unstable person (not just as a woman, but also as a bipolar person), it often also leaves me slightly suicidal. Why would I want to live in a world where "love" is all promiscuous sex and "sharing intimacy" with someone I hardly know? That's all it seems to be, anymore. That's all they seem to want from me, anymore. And I feel like giving up most days.
This is all good and grand, but complaining about it does nothing. There's no need to worry about me because I'm too much of a coward to actually take my own life. I can't even talk myself out of cowardice. I've tried. Right now, I'm simply attempting to find my gentle way around this stiff barrier that has been created in my mind by a monster. I'm quietly sad most of the time, these days, despite my medications. I feel so completely broken, as if I used to be some wild thing but now that's over. It's like I'll never be the same again because he threw a saddle on my back, thrust a bit in my mouth, and took me for ride while using the height to look for a more worthy steed. It's a disgusting existence I lead, these days. I'm lonely, and I'm cold, and, more than ever, I'm tired.
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