contemplations on an evening
Q: when am I happiest?
A: every day for half a second when I wake up and hope maybe "it" didn't happen and it's all been a nightmare. Then Reality comes crashing back into focus.
I survived by becoming something I hated, accepting the pattern of self-abuse of trying to please everyone I thought I loved.
“It was a no-win situation. And you both handled it the best you could, but the point is, you did jump on his bed knowing what it might trigger.”
If you do it once, it’s a mistake. If you do it twice, it’s not a mistake anymore. Gods, what's it called when you've repeated it as many times as I have?
“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”. Ergo, I am insane.
"...my making you my lodestone wouldn’t have evolved if you hadn’t let it, and you know it."
I am constantly left wondering what kind of a hell I lived in where the more I loved someone, the more likely I would hurt them.
"One person can’t hold anything, but two can have the world."
I liked my life, and I didn’t want to have to leave it and start over. It had taken me too long to find friends who would stick with me when I did something stupid.
I shouldn’t have trusted him. But I wanted to trust. Damn it, I deserved to be able to trust someone.
"...wondering what kind of person I was, afraid to hug my friends, and falling for people who used me..."
“You trusted him when you shouldn’t have so you could find a sense of danger. And yes, it hurts that he betrayed that trust, but that’s not going to stop you from looking for it again. You’d better start picking where you find your thrills a little better, or it’s going to get you killed.”
“Being alive isn’t enough for you. You need to feel alive, and you use the thrill of danger to get it. And once you get over the pain, you’re going to trust the wrong person again-just so you can find a jolt in that it might all go bad.”
"You’re a threat, and you need the same. Anyone less a risk than ourselves isn’t enough to keep up, keep around, keep alive, or understand. Only those born to it are capable of understanding."
“You’ve never been the safe, nice boy next door, despite everything you do to be that person. That’s why you joined the Marines, and even there you didn’t fit in, because, knowing it or not, you were a possible threat to everyone around you. People sense it on some level.
The dangerous are attracted by the lure of an equal, and the weak are afraid. Then they avoid you, or go out of their way to make your life miserable so you’ll leave and they can continue deluding themselves that they’re safe. You trusted [him] knowing he might betray you. You got off on the risk.”
“So you need the rush of possible death to keep your soul awake and turn you on. That’s not bad. It just says you’re one powerful bastard, whether you know it or not.”.
“Dangerous doesn’t always equal untrustworthy. Drink up and get over it. Then find someone to trust who’s worth trusting you back.”
Maybe I should listen to those who were my closest kin in terms of my soul. Maybe I should trust those willing to trust me back.
I had lived my life not knowing why I never fit in, and with a simple explanation, I had both found an answer and a cure. I was lost, my hidden threat had made me a pariah among those I would love, but I could find understanding among my strength-crippled kin...
I can't separate the sex from the love, I can only take the love from it. I take that away, and all that’s left is the hunger.
"Never again. Never, never. He’s safe. You’re right. I destroy everything I touch."
"He was handling it, and you go and get curious, tipping him into all but killing you. Bloody hell! When are you going to stop being afraid of yourself?"
"I lived for excitement! I made decisions based on what would screw my life up the most! I was a messed-up, screwed-up stupid punk who had to mix danger with his sex life in order to get turned on, and I was going to live a very short, exciting life."
There is black. There is white. Gray is a cowardly excuse to mix our wants with our needs.
...hope so fragile, it hurt to see it...
"I made a mistake. I just want everything to be the way it was.”
"Yeah, I tried that, didn’t I? It didn’t work. If I can’t have who I want, I may as well go back to the way I was.”
Q: How I could have been so blind?
A: my ignorance had been born out of my need for that damned acceptance I hungered after almost as badly as a junkie craving a fix.
Everyone dies. The living find a way to assuage the loss and go on.
“You’re alone when you die, even if you’re surrounded by hundreds.”
"I’ve heard the lies, I’ve believed the promises, but there’s nothing left to believe in but death. You don’t understand because you aren’t done living yet. But I’m done, and when you’re done…
you just know.”
“Maybe I can do some good when I’m dead. I’m not good for anything alive.”
"Being born and dying are the only two things we do perfectly. There’s a hundred percent success rate. I can’t do it wrong.”
"He’s straight, and you’re not. He sees a deep platonic relationship, and you know that even if you start one, you’ll eventually delude yourself into believing it’s deeper. He’ll be your friend when what you want is a lover. And one night in a moment of stupidity, you’re going to make a mistake in a very concrete way and he’ll be gone.”
A: every day for half a second when I wake up and hope maybe "it" didn't happen and it's all been a nightmare. Then Reality comes crashing back into focus.
I survived by becoming something I hated, accepting the pattern of self-abuse of trying to please everyone I thought I loved.
“It was a no-win situation. And you both handled it the best you could, but the point is, you did jump on his bed knowing what it might trigger.”
If you do it once, it’s a mistake. If you do it twice, it’s not a mistake anymore. Gods, what's it called when you've repeated it as many times as I have?
“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”. Ergo, I am insane.
"...my making you my lodestone wouldn’t have evolved if you hadn’t let it, and you know it."
I am constantly left wondering what kind of a hell I lived in where the more I loved someone, the more likely I would hurt them.
"One person can’t hold anything, but two can have the world."
I liked my life, and I didn’t want to have to leave it and start over. It had taken me too long to find friends who would stick with me when I did something stupid.
I shouldn’t have trusted him. But I wanted to trust. Damn it, I deserved to be able to trust someone.
"...wondering what kind of person I was, afraid to hug my friends, and falling for people who used me..."
“You trusted him when you shouldn’t have so you could find a sense of danger. And yes, it hurts that he betrayed that trust, but that’s not going to stop you from looking for it again. You’d better start picking where you find your thrills a little better, or it’s going to get you killed.”
“Being alive isn’t enough for you. You need to feel alive, and you use the thrill of danger to get it. And once you get over the pain, you’re going to trust the wrong person again-just so you can find a jolt in that it might all go bad.”
"You’re a threat, and you need the same. Anyone less a risk than ourselves isn’t enough to keep up, keep around, keep alive, or understand. Only those born to it are capable of understanding."
“You’ve never been the safe, nice boy next door, despite everything you do to be that person. That’s why you joined the Marines, and even there you didn’t fit in, because, knowing it or not, you were a possible threat to everyone around you. People sense it on some level.
The dangerous are attracted by the lure of an equal, and the weak are afraid. Then they avoid you, or go out of their way to make your life miserable so you’ll leave and they can continue deluding themselves that they’re safe. You trusted [him] knowing he might betray you. You got off on the risk.”
“So you need the rush of possible death to keep your soul awake and turn you on. That’s not bad. It just says you’re one powerful bastard, whether you know it or not.”.
“Dangerous doesn’t always equal untrustworthy. Drink up and get over it. Then find someone to trust who’s worth trusting you back.”
Maybe I should listen to those who were my closest kin in terms of my soul. Maybe I should trust those willing to trust me back.
I had lived my life not knowing why I never fit in, and with a simple explanation, I had both found an answer and a cure. I was lost, my hidden threat had made me a pariah among those I would love, but I could find understanding among my strength-crippled kin...
I can't separate the sex from the love, I can only take the love from it. I take that away, and all that’s left is the hunger.
"Never again. Never, never. He’s safe. You’re right. I destroy everything I touch."
"He was handling it, and you go and get curious, tipping him into all but killing you. Bloody hell! When are you going to stop being afraid of yourself?"
"I lived for excitement! I made decisions based on what would screw my life up the most! I was a messed-up, screwed-up stupid punk who had to mix danger with his sex life in order to get turned on, and I was going to live a very short, exciting life."
There is black. There is white. Gray is a cowardly excuse to mix our wants with our needs.
...hope so fragile, it hurt to see it...
"I made a mistake. I just want everything to be the way it was.”
"Yeah, I tried that, didn’t I? It didn’t work. If I can’t have who I want, I may as well go back to the way I was.”
Q: How I could have been so blind?
A: my ignorance had been born out of my need for that damned acceptance I hungered after almost as badly as a junkie craving a fix.
Everyone dies. The living find a way to assuage the loss and go on.
“You’re alone when you die, even if you’re surrounded by hundreds.”
"I’ve heard the lies, I’ve believed the promises, but there’s nothing left to believe in but death. You don’t understand because you aren’t done living yet. But I’m done, and when you’re done…
you just know.”
“Maybe I can do some good when I’m dead. I’m not good for anything alive.”
"Being born and dying are the only two things we do perfectly. There’s a hundred percent success rate. I can’t do it wrong.”
"He’s straight, and you’re not. He sees a deep platonic relationship, and you know that even if you start one, you’ll eventually delude yourself into believing it’s deeper. He’ll be your friend when what you want is a lover. And one night in a moment of stupidity, you’re going to make a mistake in a very concrete way and he’ll be gone.”