you know it isn't like me to be inflammatory, but rather than let you think that i was so naïve
I am ambivalent.
am·biv·a·lence
[am-biv-uh-luhns]
-noun
1. uncertainty or fluctuation, esp. when caused by inability to make a choice or by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things.
2. Psychology. the coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions.
I'm so angry with Austin, and yet at the same time I still love him so much. I don't love him but I love him. I'm sorry he feels bad and I'm glad that he's angry, that he's upset, that he misses me.
It hurts. It hurts like the freight train you knew was coming, flashing lights and a bar separating you from home for just that minute longer. The pain feels like it's going to stop at any time but it never does, the train just keeps coming and coming and you wait because-what else can you do?
Home-that place of certainty and love and comfort. What if the train never passes? What if you just sit there in your car, overheating or freezing, waiting and waiting and it just keeps coming?
I wish I had words like a poet or a lyricist, to tell you how I cry and how it all seems so futile, these tears. I cry like they could change something, like if I cried enough my mistakes would be wiped clear, clean slate, like the water is an eraser and my life a chalkboard.
When I went to my therapist's office, told her the whole story, I was surprised to find myself with tears running down my cheeks, uninvited guests, visitors to a funeral of the hopes and dreams I had for this relationship.
I've mostly stopped crying now, except when something brings it up-the rain (metereology) or my bed (when he used to be in it)*-so maybe I shouldn't wax poetic about tears.
*you can imagine
this makes going to sleep
pretty fucked up
difficult
(P.S. My mom thinks there's a "dog in the manger" quality to Austin's conversations with me. He doesn't want me, oh no, but god forbid anyone else should have any sort of fun with me.)
am·biv·a·lence
[am-biv-uh-luhns]
-noun
1. uncertainty or fluctuation, esp. when caused by inability to make a choice or by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things.
2. Psychology. the coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions.
I'm so angry with Austin, and yet at the same time I still love him so much. I don't love him but I love him. I'm sorry he feels bad and I'm glad that he's angry, that he's upset, that he misses me.
It hurts. It hurts like the freight train you knew was coming, flashing lights and a bar separating you from home for just that minute longer. The pain feels like it's going to stop at any time but it never does, the train just keeps coming and coming and you wait because-what else can you do?
Home-that place of certainty and love and comfort. What if the train never passes? What if you just sit there in your car, overheating or freezing, waiting and waiting and it just keeps coming?
I wish I had words like a poet or a lyricist, to tell you how I cry and how it all seems so futile, these tears. I cry like they could change something, like if I cried enough my mistakes would be wiped clear, clean slate, like the water is an eraser and my life a chalkboard.
When I went to my therapist's office, told her the whole story, I was surprised to find myself with tears running down my cheeks, uninvited guests, visitors to a funeral of the hopes and dreams I had for this relationship.
I've mostly stopped crying now, except when something brings it up-the rain (metereology) or my bed (when he used to be in it)*-so maybe I shouldn't wax poetic about tears.
*you can imagine
this makes going to sleep
pretty fucked up
difficult
(P.S. My mom thinks there's a "dog in the manger" quality to Austin's conversations with me. He doesn't want me, oh no, but god forbid anyone else should have any sort of fun with me.)