Emotional slavery

It has always been like this and it will always be like this. Men just want me to fulfill some kind of fetish or fantasy. I’m a challenge, a trophy to them. Once won, it’s done. Nothing left but to polish and admire from time to time.

I am not worth any trouble. I am not worth any effort. I am not worth the time or thought. I am not worth to work or try for after the initial goal is achieved. I am not worth to be loved, that’s why I compensate with over-loving others. So at the end, the general love balance is still evened out somehow. I always put in more of myself because I already know I can’t count on anyone filling in the gaps for me. What I anticipate for others, can’t be done in return, because people would have to care and understand too much, too far out of their comfort zone.

I’m supposed to be satisfied and even impressed by little irregularities that might flatter me. I may not receive grand gestures or even just consistencies, and I may not ask for or expect them. I may not express any disappointment, or criticism on how unfair and unbalanced the reality of my relationship is. I should count myself lucky, as difficult to love as I am, that people put up with me as it is. I feel as though I buy people’s love and affection, care and understanding, time and attention, paying with everything I am and have… getting just less than the bare minimum in return. Emotional slavery.

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Life line.

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.

“My man”

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?

Long Distance Relationship.

I don’t believe in long distance relationships.
I don’t want a long distance relationship.
I don’t do long distance relationships.
I’ve said this many times and I stand by it, fiercely.
Yet, I am in a long distance relationship, still.
Let me put that a little clearer for you:
Yet, I FUCKING am still in a FUCKING long FUCKING distance FUCKING relation- FUCKING ship !!!!!
Yes, that’s how it feels, exactly how it feels. I’m not going to sugar coat it and act like it has more benefits than it has, act like it has more advantages than disadvantages, act like it brings you “closer” and builds you “stronger”. Although all those might be somewhat true, it also just FUCKING hurts.
To never be able to be with or hold your loved one. Bury your face in their safety, touch or kiss your loved one. To deal with a time difference, varying from 5-6 hours, because daylight savings time is still a FUCKING useless thing over here. To be waking up while they go to sleep. To wait until time is favorable for them to be communicative. To feel fully loved and completely empty at the same time. To be so in love yet so alone, with love, without your love.
To be unable to express your love because texting and skyping is JUST NOT REAL, it’s just not enough. It’s like saying you’re a vegetarian but you still eat chicken and fish. It’s like saying you quit smoking, but you still smoke on the weekends. It’s like saying you’re sexually active while actually you just masturbate. It’s like crying without tears, sleeping without dreams, screaming without sound, running without movement, seeing without shapes or colors, like breathing without air.
You are constantly and continuously shut out of your love’s life. You are always left aside, never involved, never get to participate, never get to share…their feelings, events, moments, memories. Everything is happening without you. The life of your love is being lived without you. They’re living without you, they’re doing fine without you. It’s like being broken up, and they’re moving on, but at the same time you’re also still in a relationship, somehow. You’re still supposed to hope for and believe in a future that doesn’t seem to exist or ever become real.
You are not a part of their life. Only in their phone, tablet, laptop. You live in their phone, tablet, laptop. The moment that technology fails, you’re cut off cold turkey and completely powerless.
At the same time, you’re own life, all your feelings, events, moments, memories…are equally unshareable. The loneliness of it all is unbearable.
I honestly don’t know anymore what’s worse to me, being in a relationship where your partner physically & emotionally abuses you, or being in a relationship where your partner isn’t even around, ever.
Having been in both, I can say sincerely, I cannot distinguish which scenario could be better. At least in the first case, everyone agrees with you that it’s unhealthy, undesirable and calls for some life-changing decisions to be made. As for the latter, people just think it’s romantic…long distance ‘ohh, what a love story, that one’s for the books!’. Ugh.
Nobody understands SHIT.
All living their average generic moderately content lives. People in relationships are the worst, you envy and secretly HATE everyone who gets to be with their love. Envy because you wish you could, hate because they take it all so for granted.
I WISH I could be average generic moderately content. Right now, that’s my highest ambition in terms of personal happiness. I don’t dare to ask for more, I don’t need to ask for more. I don’t want for more, than to just be with the one I love. Who loves me equally, if not more.
But the universe…
THE FUCKING ASSHOLE UNIVERSE!!!!
Has a reason for all this…sure.
You just tell yourself that.
Whatever makes you sleep at night.
Which you don’t, because you have chronic insomnia.
So whatever makes you sleep when you have the average generic moderately content LUCK to get some sleep. Take it. With both hands.
That also counts for your love. When it comes by, take it & make it work. Whether it’s here and now, or then and there.
As long as it’s worth it… and with tears in my eyes, scars on my soul and holes in my heart, I can still say:
True love is always worth it.

Synergy

I wish I knew how to synthesize my heart with my mind. Tie them up together like a double helix. Let them fill in for each other’s lacks, compensate each other’s flaws. Have them in a loving relationship flowing full with mutual respect and high level communication.

Create a great enough synergy, to never again have doubt or worry, fear or jealousy.

You can’t have everything you want, without risking everything you have. One option rules out the other, it’s either this or that, choices are made with every breath to take.
But how to know whether what’s worth the trouble. How to know it won’t all be in vain. How to recollect your losses. How to gain from what you already feel and know.

Too bad I’m not a puzzle, that fits together in the end.
Too bad life is not a challenge.
No chance of ever winning it, only losing it is certain.

No Name

All I hear are my own footsteps, as I’m walking alone, thinking to find him in these empty streets. He doesn’t have a name, he doesn’t need one. Any name would only compromise his clarity, undo his figure.
I’ve only seen him a few times now. First I thought he was just a figment of my imaginative dreams. I found out he was real, when I saw him doing something which dreams are unable to do: appearing in my wake reality.
From then on I was amazed by this appearance, knowing it to feed my desire to connect with him on some level of resemblance. I used to watch him from a far, and cling to those brief moments, to then later on imagine what kind of person he could be, what kind of thoughts we might share, what kind of things he does in life, what kind of purpose he has been chasing.

One day I saw him in those empty streets, and for a short single second, I could swear, he glanced back at me ..for a moment.
For an instant we locked and connected and a rush of crushing waves flew through my body. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
Locked away in a prison of my own makings, bars built of cognition, walls of emotional intellect. That is how I remain after I’ve been with or around him. It feels as though he tries to reach out to me, in attempt to gain access, seeking my response. Whenever he moves, it seems towards me. Whenever he speaks, it might be for my ears to hear. His eyes made to register my presence, every movement, any visible appearance. His hands designed to hold me in an embrace of sustaining grace.

Knowing whether it should be like that, I never will.
But faith does certain things to people. Faith which descended from my observation, the plausible interaction, our relation. Though not to be mistaken with ‘relationship’. Any bound or connection, even that which exist only from frequency or contiguity, can be called or referred to as a relation. Only thing necessary to construct a relation is at least one common factor, one feature that is alike.

As cause and consequence follow each other up like shackles of the same chain, so do we repeatedly approximate one another by time or distance. Like leafs in a twirl of spinning wind, we keep each other in eternal rotation. An endless game to play.