(no subject)
Its incredible, how I find this thing. I spent my night wondering back on most of the decisions I've made thus far in my life. Surprisingly, this assessment wasn't made in Miami, where I typically find myself wanting or lacking in some way. Thus far, I'm come to the conclusion that I allow myself to be, almost exclusively, in abusive relationships, using the term relationship, in part, in the most general sense of the word. What really brought me back here was analyzing, one by one, anyone I've ever felt deeply about, from as far back as I can remember to if we still speak today. I've tried to sleep for hours now, my eyes are tired and stinging, and all I can do is sit and read about other people's lives, while I try to trace exactly when I drove the romance of affection out of my own. I don't think I've wanted this ever as much as now. "Vanilla sex" he called it once. Just romance, just touching just some human connection to send the sparks to the tips of my fingers and toes. A breath of vitality and hope somehow shared through one electric gesture. I think about those pillowy lips I want, I could have had, I sent away. And how I've promised myself again and again and again that I was through with all this want, and reliving each painful second that I gave up in my mind. Its a complete forest of "what-ifs" and as far as I can tell, I'm left to wade through the bile that I've left myself with. I can never decide absolutely if I'm being victimized or what is going on, because I find the situation so absolutely absurd after the fact. I just haven't grown out of it, can't seem to want anything else.. until I do.