I am beyond saddened
about what I could have
not could have had
could still have
yet can’t
because allowing myself
would destroy so many
lives that have come
to be connected
dependently
with mine
all my wishes
mean nothing
empty phonetics
lacking semantic value
eternally revolving
around you
against my will
involuntary orbit
who says the moon
pulls on the waves
who is to say
if it isn’t the water
holding her on a leash
lapping devotedly
to keep up
with your
bewildered tides
If you expect something from me, I will automatically care.
So when you tell me you were waiting all night for my message, I will feel bad for falling asleep. Even though I owe you nothing, barely know you, have all the right to sleep whenever I want or need to (especially seeing as I struggle with falling asleep). So I should be happy I dozed off so relatively easily. But, you showed you cared and that it bothered you. You articulated expectation, you were disappointed by something I did (or didn’t) that had no real direct correlation or connection to you. I will still care, feel bad, guilty, inclined to fix it or make it up to you. Did I mention I barely know you?
Why am I like this? (and seemingly only I in this whole wild world) Because I know how it feels to care and not be cared about, to grow attached a little too quickly and cultivate rapidly expanding expectations based on a needle point sized probability of reality. I have been mistreated, dismissed, disappointed, led on, kept in the dark, lied to and cheated on so much and many times. Still I will always (regrettedly to my own ego and self loving properties) believe in the best of people, hope and pray for the best in their lives, give another chance each time the former expires, let people cross lines I’ve chalked down in blood, keep giving more of myself even when I clearly receive nothing in return, pretend I’m okay with what happens while I’m dying inside. Why? Why am I like this?
I am care. The very definition of sensitivity. In both its light as also dark magic. Now I only have to learn how to apply this all to myself. And as I tred the silver silk line that is this process, I slip every other step, back into familiar default patterns. Two steps ahead, always followed by one backwards. Still moving forward, though, through constant setbacks. Crawling through layers, scratched by the cracking of surfaces I break through and rise up from, ready to fall all the way back for the slightest sign of care from anyone who’s willing to show it. Not out of desperation for attention, rather despair for the acknowledgment and existence of unconditional love. Not because of weakness, but from the urge to mean to others what I wish I could mean to myself.
All she wanted was a hug
A kiss, a warm consoling hand
On any part of her skin
When she told you she longs to no longer live
All she wanted was a few seconds of your time
Not hours, like you assumed
And yes you gave hours of your day to her
Spending time together, having fun
Watching videos, cuddling on the couch
But in this moment
She lost all of herself like the fleeting reflection of a moons full cycle into the new
She knew it would return, but right now there was nothing
Not even a speck of light
And all
She needed was a hug, a kiss
A warm consoling hand
On any part of her skin
But you said you had to work
You don’t have time for this right now
She asked you if she could die
You said no, but you showed her yes
By dismissing her pain, dismissing her clear call for your positive attention
You had to work cause your deadline wouldn’t wait
Wasting all week for the last moment to never make it in time to keep your promises anyway
Maybe she’ll jump your dead line some day
That used to be a life line but you pulled it away.
Lost in Paradise but in Paradise you can never get lost
Found in Paradise all that I found my Paradise upon
I will sleep when I need to
Leave me alone
With your structure and standards
With your routines and rules
System this, regulation that
I will live as my
Body, mind and spirit
Feel adequate so
I live to heal and grow
Feed my soul
Nothing of this world constructed
By mankind other than kindness
Love and maybe art
Are in which I’d want to take part
Or enclose in my heart
Leave me out of your
Over socialized society
With only lonely people
Attached to detachment
Plus vice versa
Pretending, lying, masks on, dying
Always crying
Never showing
Always trying
Never knowing
The only life I’m in
Is of learning and growing
Not surviving ongoing
For flying and soaring
Leave me out of your life
Of grids and boxes
Of lines
I want shapes and colors
Unnaturally
Inexplicable
And unpredictable
Keep the organized
The crime and cruelty
The steps and plans and forms
The maps, the can’ts and won’ts
I will not ever participate to conform
Bury me wherever you need to
My being will burn either way
My scars will guide
Towards a brighter day
For anyone who agrees
I dedicated my release
Freedom is all I’ll ever be
A life of how I am free
All I’ll ever have
Want and need nothing else from me
peace seeps in
as I bleed you out
please remain away
in my strength
as well as my doubt
I believe sincerely
only without you
will I be able
to ever achieve
anything of light
you chained me
deep down in darkness
because it was easier
for you to forsake
abandon me thus far
Somebody called you “my man” today… doesn’t seem like much special, but I caught myself in the act. I can’t believe, that after over 3 years of being in an exclusive, passionate, insane, magical and committed relationship, with healthy -and unhealthy- doses of attachment, obsession and infatuation, when someone refers to you, today, as “my man”… I still get the uncontrollable urgent tendency to say: “I don’t have a man”…
How is this even possible? When all I clearly, obviously want is to be yours & you mine. But see, that’s the thing… No I don’t know what the thing is, but there’s a thing.
I think I’ve never come to terms, or reconciliation, or agreement even, with myself that this, that you… that this with you is real.
Somehow it always stayed lingering, simmering, marinade-ing on ‘fairy tale’ level. Maybe this clarifies a little of my mechanisms surrounding you and your behavior and disappointments related to you.
I can just so easily write you out the story. At least I think I can, but evidently I really can’t. If it’s surreal, like a dream, then I am lucid enough to control what happens. Except with you, I’m never in control. Not over you, which I shouldn’t even have to want (if you would only behave), not over any situation with or regarding you either, because you’re equally if not slightly more stubborn and prideful than me.
A constant power struggle, and the mindful positivists tell the people of worries (like I am) that if controlling the situation is impossible… it’s OKAY, because at the very least you can control yourself and how you deal or react. NOPE!! not me, not this one, I can’t. Not with you, ohh irony, “my man”.
Maybe that’s exactly what really does make you “my man” and this struggle won’t end until I realize and more importantly, embrace you as you are,
MY MAN.
but what if you
put me to shame?
what if you make
me look like a
fool? what if you
betray & play &
I’ll never know
… control …
… anxiety …
who ever has any reason to trust anyone?
I still blame you for putting us through this, I still blame you for letting me stand alone, while promising me that as long as I believe we will, we can. I still blame you for walking away and extending this torture, instead of expanding our future, for pretending there’s no other way. I blame you for making me feel like there’s truly no way out, to the point that I become as hopeless as I am love deprived in this loneliness of heartache far from your calm safety of resurrection and revival.
I honestly don’t care anymore, what is realistic or not, if this love is real it should be able to provide us with the power to overcome and persevere. Not only in separation, but in ways to end it also. Not only to get through this together, but to remain in togetherness also.
It might now even be all on you, I know it’s not, but in the powerlessness of this struggle, the urge to blame someone other than myself is maybe the only thing that can still keep me hopeful. As contradictory as that sounds, as it is.
Sometimes not having a choice is also a choice. I principally don’t believe in the concept of regret, because it’s useless by default. Regret is not the same as learning from mistakes and moving on for the better, regret is dwelling in past mistakes and not providing the means to change course. I do, however in all my contradictory ways, regret many of the choices we said we had no choice but to make. I still blame you, but now I blame myself too.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop writing about long distance relationships, until I’m finally released from one. Love crosses borders like the wind, with ease and we allow it to sway us away, as we please. Many might not last but when they do, it’s as romantic and exhilarating as it is terrorizing, terrifying and destructive. Because all that you feel won’t ever fade away as long as you know it’s true. Maintaining equal amounts of love, trust, respect and communication is essential and impossible in the same extent.
We grew closer than I’ve ever been to any other soul, than I’ve ever allowed another near my core of cores. I’ve caught myself underestimating the true essence of this power we both share. So pure a love that it makes the universe stop and stare. In the eventual awareness of this, I know you are made of the same fire as I. We burst from the same flame and traveled around the globe through epic places and times until our hearts met again in the most twisted circumstances. Only to realize, this was all for us, ours, all along.
My heart is too widely open
I could be crouched down with a blade pressed to my skin
But if someone would then and there need me, I’d forget all the hate and hurt, just for them, temporarily
To have it waiting for me when I return to myself
I will still, help, love, care
Even if I can’t do any of those for myself
My heart is too widely open
But the love flows one way
Because I don’t know how to receive
I’m not blaming anyone else
It’s not self pity either
Just a reality I either have to get used to
Or find a way to change
But what makes me think, that after 15 years of trying
Now I will succeed?
Truth Beyond Mystery 