Read my Past today, realized that I've grown, but am still rehashing the same old stuff...
I've grown in terms of how I see the world, I'm not as angry, I don't let people hurt me anymore, I've put up these big brick walls in my heart and soul that no one can climb over or break through unless they're pure of heart. And even then they're chances of getting through are slim to none.
It's lonely in here, in my walled off tower of snobbery and pain and fear. But it's safe.
I've dated several men lately(by dating, I mean spent time with, but no sexuality, not interested at the moment). There's always that one thing that strikes me as something I don't want in my life, and so I don't call them anymore. And they don't call me either. Can they sense it? That I've already walked away? Were they thinking of me romantically to begin with? Or were they just trying to kiss on me because I was there at the time? Men don't hit on me anymore, unless they're sleazy, and I don't want to talk to those guys anyhow. Did I grow out of the cute young girl costume? Do men have no choice but to see me in a different light, and thus they're not interested in me because they're not interested in something serious? Or do they sense that I'm a little bit desperate for human connection at the moment? Or are they anti-snob, which is kinda' what I've become.
I know that there are people who have friends who come over and watch movies and can be affectionate without making out or any feelings of sexuality getting in the way of the friendship. I don't have friends like that. Why not?
I don't want to say that I have no friends, because I do have friends, whom I care about deeply. But I'm remembering that there's something I used to be able to feel that isn't there anymore. What was it? Where did it go? Why am I not feeling it anymore? Is it my walls? Is it my judgment? Is it the apathy I try to keep, no matter how much I want to feel again?
Vic is a lucky man. I knew us breaking up would treat him well, even though he didn't want it at the time. I'm envious in a way, because I want something romantic and wonderful and soothing with hints of destiny. But I'm happy for him. I know I still have a ways to go, I don't know if I've met someone compatible with my brand of crazy yet. Maybe, but it doesn't seem obvious, and I'm not interested in pushing it, and I just want to watch a movie and eat some chicken soup. And maybe read for a while.
I'm tired. I've spent the last 10 years dating on and off, in relationships, heart broken, happily out of relationships, single and playing, forsaking the opposite sex, crushed out over boys who just wanted my physicality, in love, out of love, out of his favor where I am in love, cursing, swearing off boys completely in favor of men, not finding men, finally finding men, and now, I suspect, men not being interested in me because I'm jaded and crazy and broken and bitter and far too opinionated from the last ten years of emotional run around. I'm not an easy person to figure out, and I'm not an easy person to get along with. If a man wants something easy, he should look elsewhere. But I still believe that even with all of my complications, I'm still worth it. I have a lot to give, I have a lot to share, but there's some digging into me that has to happen first. If I were easy, I wouldn't be as much fun.
The idea of how many people I've allowed into my world, who aren't there anymore is just daunting. Adam from Oakland mentioned the same thing when I was there last time. It's heartbreaking, all over again, to take a look at how many times relationship are tried and ended. It always ends. I accept the end without a fight at this point, there doesn't seem to be much of a reason to fight it. But I wish I would feel compelled to fight for something. I wish something actually struck me as worth fighting for. Worth giving it my all.
I want children. Within the next two years or so, maybe a few more. Before I turn 30. I think I'd be a good mom, I think I'd like teaching them about the world. Giving them the tools to deal with it in a better way than I did until I learned. And I'm not done learning, I'm always going to be learning, I love learning too much.
I'm not drinking this month. I'm taking a break again, my annual hiatus from the booze. It's bringing up emotions with all of their flavors. It's allowing me to wake up early in the morning. It's helping me remember my dreams.
I do well in relationships. I get more productive. Because I want to have something to report when I see them again. Because I want to do stuff to avoid obsessing over them when they're not around, but then feel worthy of them when they do come around because I got so much done. When it's just me, I still like being productive, but I allow myself to slack more, for the sake of treating myself with love and tenderness.
This post is long enough. I'm going to go get stuff done today. It'll all work out. xo
It's lonely in here, in my walled off tower of snobbery and pain and fear. But it's safe.
I've dated several men lately(by dating, I mean spent time with, but no sexuality, not interested at the moment). There's always that one thing that strikes me as something I don't want in my life, and so I don't call them anymore. And they don't call me either. Can they sense it? That I've already walked away? Were they thinking of me romantically to begin with? Or were they just trying to kiss on me because I was there at the time? Men don't hit on me anymore, unless they're sleazy, and I don't want to talk to those guys anyhow. Did I grow out of the cute young girl costume? Do men have no choice but to see me in a different light, and thus they're not interested in me because they're not interested in something serious? Or do they sense that I'm a little bit desperate for human connection at the moment? Or are they anti-snob, which is kinda' what I've become.
I know that there are people who have friends who come over and watch movies and can be affectionate without making out or any feelings of sexuality getting in the way of the friendship. I don't have friends like that. Why not?
I don't want to say that I have no friends, because I do have friends, whom I care about deeply. But I'm remembering that there's something I used to be able to feel that isn't there anymore. What was it? Where did it go? Why am I not feeling it anymore? Is it my walls? Is it my judgment? Is it the apathy I try to keep, no matter how much I want to feel again?
Vic is a lucky man. I knew us breaking up would treat him well, even though he didn't want it at the time. I'm envious in a way, because I want something romantic and wonderful and soothing with hints of destiny. But I'm happy for him. I know I still have a ways to go, I don't know if I've met someone compatible with my brand of crazy yet. Maybe, but it doesn't seem obvious, and I'm not interested in pushing it, and I just want to watch a movie and eat some chicken soup. And maybe read for a while.
I'm tired. I've spent the last 10 years dating on and off, in relationships, heart broken, happily out of relationships, single and playing, forsaking the opposite sex, crushed out over boys who just wanted my physicality, in love, out of love, out of his favor where I am in love, cursing, swearing off boys completely in favor of men, not finding men, finally finding men, and now, I suspect, men not being interested in me because I'm jaded and crazy and broken and bitter and far too opinionated from the last ten years of emotional run around. I'm not an easy person to figure out, and I'm not an easy person to get along with. If a man wants something easy, he should look elsewhere. But I still believe that even with all of my complications, I'm still worth it. I have a lot to give, I have a lot to share, but there's some digging into me that has to happen first. If I were easy, I wouldn't be as much fun.
The idea of how many people I've allowed into my world, who aren't there anymore is just daunting. Adam from Oakland mentioned the same thing when I was there last time. It's heartbreaking, all over again, to take a look at how many times relationship are tried and ended. It always ends. I accept the end without a fight at this point, there doesn't seem to be much of a reason to fight it. But I wish I would feel compelled to fight for something. I wish something actually struck me as worth fighting for. Worth giving it my all.
I want children. Within the next two years or so, maybe a few more. Before I turn 30. I think I'd be a good mom, I think I'd like teaching them about the world. Giving them the tools to deal with it in a better way than I did until I learned. And I'm not done learning, I'm always going to be learning, I love learning too much.
I'm not drinking this month. I'm taking a break again, my annual hiatus from the booze. It's bringing up emotions with all of their flavors. It's allowing me to wake up early in the morning. It's helping me remember my dreams.
I do well in relationships. I get more productive. Because I want to have something to report when I see them again. Because I want to do stuff to avoid obsessing over them when they're not around, but then feel worthy of them when they do come around because I got so much done. When it's just me, I still like being productive, but I allow myself to slack more, for the sake of treating myself with love and tenderness.
This post is long enough. I'm going to go get stuff done today. It'll all work out. xo