You Might Do Better Messing With Someone Else’s Mind

Thursday: How can you keep your eye on the ball if people keep moving the goal posts? Under such circumstances it surely makes more sense to keep your eye on the goal posts! That goes double for games that don’t even have goal posts. What are they doing there? Who keeps putting them up? What game do they think everyone is trying to play? Actually, you don’t need to know the answer to that. You only need to know what the ball looks like and where it is in any point in time. Then, what you need to do with it will become obvious. The Solstice this year is due to have extra special potency. Be ready for several months of amazing opportunity."
I have fears. Some of them are fleeting and pass me by without my revisiting them, and others cling to me and refuse to leave. Some consume me entirely, until I am so sure that they will be my ultimate undoing that I cease to function. I am a scared person sometimes. Right now that is true. Because the sentiments that were offered to me, ones that made me feel elated by their love, their attraction, the absoluteness of what we were building… it was not exclusive. It had little to do with me, and was offered again to another. I have expressed my need to experience and share things that are made just for me, to show how I make people feel. I’ve lost my way, and with it, the belief that anything in this world is just for me. Devotion and commitment, I am learning, are myth.
I’m having a serious crisis, here. Of faith, of heart, of sanity. In evenings, alone, digging through the puzzle pieces, trying to put back together what someone else took apart… all I see are the lines that separate each piece, how they fit together but are forever separable. I see each line as a chasm that separates them like continents. I want to remember what the picture looked like, but I can’t lay down the pieces to see it. Right now… I’m going based on my instincts. The ritual bloodletting I have previously indulged in has looked rather tempting. I’m trying to grow past the crutch of pissing my life away for people who don’t deserve it, though. It is the scar I know. I’m trying to forget it.
I don’t want people to always leave him. People always leave him. And maybe that’s how he got here. So sure he’ll lose that he pushes me out so far to see if I’ll go. But people always push me away. People always choose someone else. People always need something to fill the holes that I cannot fill for them. I feel like maybe that is all I need to know- I am unable to be completing. I will always leave them wanting- there is not enough of me. And hence… I will always be left wanting, too. I’m trying not to replay everything in my head- the deep devastation I felt. Every time it happens it hurts even worse, because the men I have ever given my heart to have all known my darkest places and deepest fears. And they have all fed that fire that consumes whatever is left of me. I am burning alive… and when the last licks of fire have gone out, I will have gone with them. When will people give me a fighting chance at unmarred happiness? Because now, as I have always done, I will not just fear that all good has a fatal string attached, but I will believe it. I will expect it.
Finally, I have moments in the dark, in the middle of the night, when I lay in bed and hold my empty belly and mourn the child I lost. Gutteral, visceral tears rip from me, and choking wails of shattering pain call out so intensely that they almost exist outside of me. I always lose everything I love, everything I want. He is still here with me, and most of the time I feel his love radiating. And I am so thankful, so grateful for the chance to try again. But in those times I am equally torn. Half of me accepts it without question, overjoyed that he still wants me to be his wife. And the rest of me wonders where that radiating love was for the last 4 months. What did I do? Did I even have anything to do with it? Does he really love me or just the idea of being wanted back? Where was my Taj Mahal? Where was the symbol? Don’t wait until I am gone to show me you love me. Move a mountain. And do it while I’m alive.
I wish that outsiders would stop discouraging me. Don’t tell me I’m ruining my life. Stop telling me to pack my bags and date other men. Stop telling me I need to sleep around a bit more before I try this again. You don’t know me. I don’t think anyone does.
I cower. I hide. I protect.
I fear.

~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 06/18/2009.

2 Responses to “You Might Do Better Messing With Someone Else’s Mind”

  1. Oh my dear…don’t invest too much in other peoples opinions. If the decision feels right to you then it is usually the right one if for no other reason than that. Try not to let the mistakes of others be a reflection of how you feel about yourself. In life and love…everyone makes mistakes, although some are larger than others, and the only real mistake is making yourself feel miserable about something someone else did. Maybe this time he needs you to be his Taj Mahal. And what he did didn’t necessarily mean that you did something wrong. Just as you have your baggage about being not loved enough…so does he. Try very hard not to let your feelings about previous relationships be the barometer by which you measure this one. Every relationship is different as every person is different. Have the courage to rise above your fears, as the beautiful butterfly I know that you are. Know that I love you and support you no matter what happens. Talk to him, laugh with him, cry with him, play with him, and simply love him and I’m sure things will work out the way they were meant to. Call me anytime you need to talk.

  2. Right now, that’s where I’m sitting. A lot of this was bred from his insecurity. Before all of this, I felt beautiful and confident, and entire. I know I shouldn’t let this color how I feel about me, but I;ve taken to looking at it like "What is the common denominator in the long list of shitty things that have happened to me?: Oh yeah- ME."I am trying to show him that I love him. I gather that he hasn’t been shown very well, much, in all his life. This is the ultimate, ULTIMATE sacrifice for me to make, out of my love. I’m not ready to give up. But it doesn’t hurt any less.Thanks for the encouragement.

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