mis·take

Journal, no trust, Personal, Relationships

I always kinda knew I was naive, but I didn’t realize just how bad it was until tonight.

Leo and I met to talk today, at my request. He finally told me that he never felt that connection that comes with really falling for a person.

We talked, I cried, and then we bought some alcohol and he came to my place.

As far as I know, I’m currently hallucinating in a ditch somewhere and not actually in the situation I am in.

He’s in my bed right now. Last night we danced and sang and kissed and I think I have a few hickeys- but dear god I wish I didn’t. I have to remind myself what he said. He never felt that connection. He was only ever sexually attracted to me.

He apologized for never giving me a chance to get to know me, and he cried. I had never seen him cry before. He definitely didn’t drink as much as I did. I don’t know what that was about.

Anyway, I’m six months down the road and I need to renew that vow to avoid men. I should also put some pants on and take a few more swigs of whatever it is he bought,

I drunkenly told him I loved him last night. God, I am a dumb, naive, sad girl.

I honestly wish I would have just jumped that day on the top of my building. I should never have gone to see T, and I should not have tried to talk to Leo.

I need to just leave things be, or just… Leave.

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dis·may

Journal, no trust, Personal

I have a lot going on in my life and no one around to listen. The only thing I have around is alcohol and I know I shouldn’t, but I cling to its safety like a child clings to its blanket. Just like I cling to the idea of love. I need to completely erase Leo from my life. He isn’t even a friend to me at this point. He doesn’t communicate or anything, and that’s not friendship to me.

I don’t have anything to buffer the cruel and unforgiving world.

I found hope in love, but every aspect of that has been obliterated for me. I found comfort in relationships, but they end and leave you wanting, in need of something more. I find comfort in food, but it comes with guilt. I find comfort in the arms of strangers, but don’t want them to kiss.

Without any clutches aside from alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex –  I’m exposed to the cold night.

I am bare. I am naked. I am nude and powerless in my isolation.

I emerge from disbelief into the cold arms of agony. Gripping my exposed back with it’s cold, boney fingers. There is no comfort in this place. There is no point in trying to understand.

We are entirely alone.

Now I cry, thinking of the false comfort I felt. All of those moments I trapped myself in, trying to make it seem real. Trying to revive what was already dead. Trying to bring life to something that never lived. But I believed- I sincerely gave myself to the cause and I Wept for you.

And you say you cared.

If you knew the happiness I have been robbed of. If you knew the satisfaction I crave, but can never have. I am neglected and deprived. I suffer, wallow in my own piss.

All because I am aware enough to realize how empty it all is, and how empty it will always be. We can dress rooms up with cozy furnishings, add pictures and rugs. But it’s still going to possess a sense of emptiness and the need to fill it’s void when the room is cleared once again. The comfort we find in continuity is false. It lets us get hurt. It lets our guard down while we walk through the aisles of Lucky’s holding our blueberries and crackers and brie, and as we hold our lover in our arms we are allowed to forget how void we, too feel when our furnishings have been removed. But, nothing stays the same.

Nothing stays the same except the true emptiness of everything.

ar·ti·cles

Humanist, Journal, Memories, no trust, Partner, Personal, Relationships

In front of me, I have six objects.

A box of breakfast bars.
A jar of weed.
Two lighters.
A pair of socks.
A hoodie.
A book.

I have memories, longing.
Contempt, agitation.
I am moved, yet powerless.
Displeased, but compassionate.
Sentimental, fond,
and regretful.

Six objects.

Each one evoking emotion from me, each one a reminder for different parts of the relationship. When things were good, bad, and neutral.

I am filled with emotion, intuition, and compassion. But I am also in pain.

When I see the hoodie, I think about how he looked as a preteen. Always so embarrassed of it, but I thought it was adorable. I had a soft spot in my heart for his childhood, I cared about what he had experienced and was always interested in learning more.

When I look at the socks, I remember how easily he was distracted. How easily he forgot things. I found it endearing. He had forgotten my birthday, and even after my birthday, he forgot to give me my gift for a long time. I’m not sure if he was actually forgetful or if he just didn’t really care. Felt ambivalent toward me. I guess I’ll never really know the truth. He was always like that, though. I fell in love with it. The way he would stare off at something and just be thinking about the most random shit. It made my heart glow.

The breakfast bars. They remind me of the times just before the end. When he started his job and became distant. We went shopping together and I was trying so hard to get him to be present with me, but he just wasn’t. It made me wonder if there was someone he worked with that he liked. He brought me with him to where he worked, but when I visited him on his break, he seemed really distracted and like he didn’t want me to be there.

The jar of weed and lighters. This one is mixed for me. There is so much attached to it. The memories of the night before the party, when we argued and he told me he didn’t see a future together. He made me cry a lot, said he didn’t want to break up, but it was the beginning of the end to me. Things never felt the same after that. I didn’t trust that he loved me. The party itself, he got drunk and looked at other girls. But I met his friends, I tried to forget about the problems we were having. I stole the weed and lighters to have some fun and bond with him. Then Uber ride with the police officer, I had the weed in my purse and was worried as fuck. It was on my body, not his. I took so much risk there. When we got home, he was so drunk. His helplessness reminded me of my dad, and I was so disgusted. He hurt me a lot that weekend. It didn’t end that night either. The next day he took the weed from my purse, and to me, that was incredibly rude. I didn’t take it for the actual weed itself. Sure, that seemed like a fun thing at the time, but for me, it was really about making the memory of doing something stupid like that together. For me, it was about doing something risky together. Bonding. After our near-breakup the night before, I wanted us to feel close and connected. But I ended up putting myself in a dangerous situation with the cop- and then the next day T just took it. Put it in his closet like it was his, and his alone. As if I hadn’t been there with him at all and he had done it alone. To him, he was entitled to it. That was his jar of weed.

The really funny thing was that I didn’t care what was inside that jar at all. I just wanted a sentimental object, I just wanted to believe my relationship wasn’t already falling apart.

The only reason I have it now is that he wasn’t going to smoke when finding a new job. So I took it back.

And now I ache when I look at it.

 

re·li·a·bil·i·ty

Blame, Humanist, Journal, no trust, Partner, Personal, Relationships

I just got back from Sam’s house. Not my first boyfriend, just this guy from Tinder.

I finished the bottle of scotch earlier. So I don’t have that emotional crutch anymore, which kinda makes me mad. It was a reliable way to numb the pain for a bit. Helped to feel better, even if just for a short time.

It also made me feel a lot worse, though. I feel like it worsened my suicidal thoughts and actions. I hadn’t tried to do anything in months, and yet I found myself with my feet out the window, sitting on the sill, tempting fate and teasing my will to live more than once.

I’m depressed. I was depressed before the breakup. Things just got a lot worse after. I was using T as a crutch before the alcohol. When I didn’t have him anymore, I turned to substances.

I had a problem before I was drinking, and I had a problem before the breakup. I just don’t know what that problem is. Mental health?

My attachment style to people is unhealthy. Tonight Sam was telling me that he felt like I was completely detached from him and the moment. He knows I’m moving but we also were sort of doing this thing where we cuddled and were being cute together. Like he kissed my forehead and shit. He wanted it to be more emotional, and so did I- but I am not ready for emotional sex again. I am not ready for romantic interactions again. I’m still counting the days since the breakup. I am not ready. My heart still aches, I’m still getting randomly sad and angry, and I have no clue when that will be over. At least I’m eating again. And I can do my makeup without crying it off. But I am sad.

I didn’t just lose a boyfriend when T and I broke up. I lost someone I felt was my best friend. I lost that sense of security that comes with being in a relationship.

But I have to remember how many times I considered breaking up with him myself. How many times I tied my shoes, about to leave and annoyed at how insensitive T was, thinking we should break up. It happened a lot. Or when he completely misunderstood me and my life, which happened quite a lot. He never got me, he never understood who I was. My background, my struggles, all of it was downplayed at some point. Even my achievements up here were downplayed, and I knew it. He downplayed my apartment, my school, my barista certification. He was not supportive of those things. He actively put me down for some of it, even though he denied doing it. I don’t think he was aware of the shit things he said, but I noticed it all.

It doesn’t go unnoticed when your hard work is made fun of. Or when I was finally on my own, in my own apartment and supporting myself, and someone tells me it’s a shit place. Of course, I remembered that.

Things were not all sunshine and rainbows when we dated. It just gave me a sense of security in what I was doing with my life.

I need to find that security within myself and not with a guy. Especially not with a guy who doesn’t keep me in the loop about major life decisions.

I should have realized earlier on that he had no intention of keeping me around, he acted like those decisions didn’t involve me at all. He knew. I mean, I did realize it. I chose to ignore it. I chose to trust him. He violated that trust. So what, does that just mean I’m currently fucked? My trust was already violated by Riley. Now add T to the list.

And Sam wondered why I had trust issues. Why I couldn’t stay the night at his place. I don’t trust anyone anymore. I don’t even trust myself.

re·sound·ing

Humanist, Journal, Memories, no trust, Personal, Relationships

Leaving this place is manifesting itself in my life finally. By that, I mean it’s feeling real. I’m packing today, and that means confronting memories and realizing his presence is still in this room. There was so much of his hair behind my bed. I saw the remaining earring from that night we were making out on that cliffside when I lost the other. I can’t explain the devastation I felt. It’s so deep and I feel the roots of it throughout my entire self.

The mint plant we bought together started to grow again and it feels like some sort of terrible, painful irony.

My chest aches in agony.

The bag filled with stuff that reminds me of him, I still don’t know what to do with it. Just sits there with emotional weight.

I’ve had my rebounds.
Leftover echo of his presence in my life is loud.

I’m still in pain.

 

ex·ist·ing

Failure, fuck you, Journal, no trust, Personal

I will admit that I am incredibly drunk right now. I stole my roommate’s mashed potatoes. I am a terrible person.

I’m in a lot of pain and I don’t remember the last time I Wasn’t. The really great thing? Literally, no one gives a fuck. which is why I am drunk. then maybe I could forget what a big deal it is to me too.

All that time we spent together. Maybe it all does really mean NOTHING. Maybe I AM JUST A LOUSY FOOL. FOR BELIEVING IN LOVE. OKAY. OKay.

I really wanted to believe something mattered in the world. Just one thing. I can’t even have that.

it’s all hopeless, love doesn’t exist, we all just live to die. and dying isn’t even a purpose, it’s just a lousy side effect.

everything sucks and nothing matters.

I’m sad at how meaningless everything is. How much meaning we find in things just to give ourselves a will to live.

well, my will to live is obliterated. Life is cancerous.

dis·en·gaged

Journal, no trust, Personal, sex

Well, I just sent this guy Chet home with a hard-on. I feel bad because I didn’t mean to tease him or be a bitch. We were just about to do stuff and I couldn’t. Kissing was one thing. Kissing, I could ignore that it wasn’t T.

What’s wrong with me? This guy was attractive, he was older than me, tall, works at Patagonia, has nice long hair, a solid seven with girth, and likes to rock climb. He was chill. We talked for three whole goddamn hours. Religion. Politics. Philosophy. Literature. We both worked at a movie theatre before, bonded over our hatred of Marvel and Star Wars. We talked about astronomy and physics and both want to work for NASA- he’s a computer science major.

I got so used to knowing I could trust my partner in bed, have one night stands been ruined for me? I finally have loving sex and suddenly it’s all I will accept. Perhaps six days after a breakup is too soon. Have I finally gotten to the point where I care about more than looks when it comes to fucking? Do I need to care about the person to enjoy things?

Or is it as simple as the fact that it wasn’t T?

I really wanted this guys Patagonia discount. He kept muttering about how sexy I was… It was nice to see someone obsess over me again, but it definitely didn’t make me want him. It made him seem desperate. The way he touched me felt like he was deprived, a hungry and raving animal. I wasn’t comfortable with that. I felt objectified. I want to feel loved.

For the longest time, I confused the satisfaction of objectification with the satisfaction of love. I know the difference now. They are not the same.

I need to be loved to have sex, and I didn’t know that before. Guess I’m not having sex for a very long time.

9•9•2018

Journal, Love, New, no trust, Partner, Personal, Relationships

All but one night this last week, I spent with a guy. He’s adorable and really attractive, intelligent, funny, and seems to like me. But he’s hard to understand, and that makes me fearful. I’m starting to like T a lot, even though he is at times preppy. We like the same things, I feel like I can communicate with him.

But. ((Of course, there is something hindering me.)) I’m worried that he’ll realize he doesn’t actually like me at some point, and I’ll have fallen in love with him or some shit. I haven’t yet, but he is the first guy who has gotten Leo off my mind. Which is significant. It says more than I feel capable of putting into words.

I haven’t once gotten bored with him, even though we have spent at least fourteen hours together this last week- most of it talking.

We have done some fun shit together, too. Standing over oceanside cliffs late at night, fog rolling into the Bay- the Golden Gate Bridge twinkling in the distance. Listening to the ocean lap at the shore as we held each other in our arms. Talking walks on the beach at night. Making out in his car until the windows steamed up. Cuddling late into the night on his sofa. Getting ice cream together.

He often comes to mind during the day when we aren’t together, and it brings a warmth to my chest- it calms me down and makes me smile, even if I’ve been annoyed.

I’m willing to hang out with him until 12pm, even when I have to wake up at 4am for work the next day.

But. I also got incredibly jealous when one of his friends, who is a girl, drunk texted him asking if he was going to come to a party. I don’t know why I got jealous- he was cuddling with me, he didn’t leave to go to that party. I could tell he wanted to a little bit, though. I could tell he got a little excited every time she texted him. I noticed that he kept checking his phone to text her back.

It hurt me.

I am easily hurt, but I also know warning signs when I see them. I can almost smell foreshadowing in my life, and maybe that is paranoia- but he also postponed plans today. Part of me wants to cancel altogether because we have hung out so much this last week, and I feel vulnerable because of how much I’m starting to like him. I’m worried I’ve been too available. I’m worried I have come off as easy. All of that worries me because I care.

If I cancel, and he does actually like me as much as he says, then I run the risk that he thinks I have outgrown him already.

col·lec·tive

Journal, no trust, Personal

Some things have been encouraging my insecurity recently.

I normally bring some food into my communications class because it’s after a break of mine, so I always get food. This girl turns to me and says, “you’re always munching on something” and like… Okay?? Your point? I’m sorry?????

My boyfriend doesn’t always respond back to me very fast and I wonder if he’s ignoring me. If I’m too needy. So then I’m like, do I ignore him? Do I leave him on read so it evens shit out? But I want to respond fast and shit cause I know that makes me feel good when others do it for me and I’m not out here to hurt him- I just don’t want to be made out to be a needy girlfriend. You know?

At work, sometimes I’ll say something and no one will respond. Or they will and their voice trails off like they don’t care???

I am trying so goddamn hard to work on myself, why do others have to come at me like this? I just want to live a positive life and put positivity out there and not be down all the time.

This recent trend in my life is bringing me down though, I’ve been depressed for a while and I don’t know if it’s the weather or the daily grind I’ve got going on, but I’m over it.

I want some sunshine and ice coffee and smiling. I want T to respond faster. I want to have close friends up here.

The insecurity I feel makes me wonder if I’m just different from everybody else. If no one will ever like me because I unknowingly eat loudly in class or respond too fast to messages, what if I’m.. annoying.. That thought is what makes me isolate myself and not try to make friends. I’m worried that people universally don’t like me as a person.