the chaos in my mind
To quote an entry from very long ago,
"I think that sometimes when I feel hurt, I get angry. I don’t know how to tell people how I feel. I can’t just say, look, I know what you’re doing is totally logical, but I wish it weren’t. I wish I could. I wish I could just work that lump out of my throat and say what I want to, instead of feeling the dulled sadness in my voice as I say goodbye before hanging up the phone."
I've gotten better about being more understanding about the things people need to do, but that doesn't mean it's easier. Before, I had stability--a sureness that the important things in my life were there for good. Now I see that that isn't necessarily going to always be the case. The ring I wear bears a different meaning, and I understand that a job can be lost for reasons in or out of your own power.
In all honesty, what I want is for everyone who used to know me to read this entry, and see that I'm still Kes. That, yes, I had an apartment, and a job, and somehow I pulled it all off, but I'm no different. I still need support, and I still need love.
And, as tacky as it sounds, what that all really means is
I still need Steve.
I wish I could read signs better; maybe that way, I'd be able to tell if I'm already too late.
But you can be sure that I'll still be here waiting--poised, tail wagging--when you're ready to make a decision.
Perhaps I am too canine, remembering only the good things and not the bad. But I've learned from the experiences--and never will I lick the face of another, even as I wait. My haunches will stay on the ground, shoulders pivoting left or right to avoid the attempted head-pat from the occasional passing stranger. Somehow, my instincts tell me that, though an inviting lap and a friendly smile are tempting, there is only one I should follow home.
"I think that sometimes when I feel hurt, I get angry. I don’t know how to tell people how I feel. I can’t just say, look, I know what you’re doing is totally logical, but I wish it weren’t. I wish I could. I wish I could just work that lump out of my throat and say what I want to, instead of feeling the dulled sadness in my voice as I say goodbye before hanging up the phone."
I've gotten better about being more understanding about the things people need to do, but that doesn't mean it's easier. Before, I had stability--a sureness that the important things in my life were there for good. Now I see that that isn't necessarily going to always be the case. The ring I wear bears a different meaning, and I understand that a job can be lost for reasons in or out of your own power.
In all honesty, what I want is for everyone who used to know me to read this entry, and see that I'm still Kes. That, yes, I had an apartment, and a job, and somehow I pulled it all off, but I'm no different. I still need support, and I still need love.
And, as tacky as it sounds, what that all really means is
I still need Steve.
I wish I could read signs better; maybe that way, I'd be able to tell if I'm already too late.
But you can be sure that I'll still be here waiting--poised, tail wagging--when you're ready to make a decision.
Perhaps I am too canine, remembering only the good things and not the bad. But I've learned from the experiences--and never will I lick the face of another, even as I wait. My haunches will stay on the ground, shoulders pivoting left or right to avoid the attempted head-pat from the occasional passing stranger. Somehow, my instincts tell me that, though an inviting lap and a friendly smile are tempting, there is only one I should follow home.