(no subject)
im disintegrating. im waiting, sunburned, on a bobbing beacon somewhere in the freezing, open ocean. it is strangely comforting to say out loud, or to myself with some solidity, that this is the worst. this has been the worst year of my life, even worse than captivity, that this is the worst my life has ever been. it is good to remind myself that this isnt just life unqualified, that its an end of the spectrum, or some kind of extreme version of something. its good to say out loud 'this is bad' because then its easier to know its not like it just Is. i dont know. it says nothing about the future.
funny note: recently someone on facebook asked everyone who hates an ex real bad to comment. i had the reflex, because of all the pain i guess, but i really couldnt because i dont hate any of them. i never did. i still find all of them really interesting and i miss half of them, not like i want them back exactly, but like any anger and frustration i might have had about our differences do not overwhelm whatever objective positives brought me there to begin with. there are a few main possibilities for causes of this condition. the first is that i pick really well, but given who my dad is, i doubt thats the primary thing. the second is that im blind to what a relationship should look like, or i secretly love/need to suffer and i should hate them but im retarded. the third, and my biggest, most overwhelming, and most rationally supported fear, is that im the bad one, im the one that they wouldve written down on the facebook, maybe not in anger, but along the same thought. i'm the nightmare thats over. i wonder, secretly horrified, in the cases where i actually miss them, if i just miss they affinity that they had for me, and the loss of it is so terrible because each time, i experience it as the extinction of that kind of affinity for me, across the earth, even in myself. it hardly matters. it hardly matters. i dont even remember a lot of the stuff that i talked about with the russian in the texts that my phone has. ive been looking at text records from people from the last year. i dont remember a whole lot of things. cant technically call him an ex, but of course it was messier than either of us agreed to, and in hindsight it looks pretty similar to things where i said they were my boyfriend or whatever (as much as there is any consistency, anyway.) maybe i just dont know what that looks like. i dont remember really believing that any of them were really in it and feeling like i could exhale ever except for ray and alan. i still have to give steven back his huge special condoms and get back No One Belongs Here More Than You, and try to somehow explain to him that im not like normal girls or something and hope he doesnt feel terrible.
funny note: recently someone on facebook asked everyone who hates an ex real bad to comment. i had the reflex, because of all the pain i guess, but i really couldnt because i dont hate any of them. i never did. i still find all of them really interesting and i miss half of them, not like i want them back exactly, but like any anger and frustration i might have had about our differences do not overwhelm whatever objective positives brought me there to begin with. there are a few main possibilities for causes of this condition. the first is that i pick really well, but given who my dad is, i doubt thats the primary thing. the second is that im blind to what a relationship should look like, or i secretly love/need to suffer and i should hate them but im retarded. the third, and my biggest, most overwhelming, and most rationally supported fear, is that im the bad one, im the one that they wouldve written down on the facebook, maybe not in anger, but along the same thought. i'm the nightmare thats over. i wonder, secretly horrified, in the cases where i actually miss them, if i just miss they affinity that they had for me, and the loss of it is so terrible because each time, i experience it as the extinction of that kind of affinity for me, across the earth, even in myself. it hardly matters. it hardly matters. i dont even remember a lot of the stuff that i talked about with the russian in the texts that my phone has. ive been looking at text records from people from the last year. i dont remember a whole lot of things. cant technically call him an ex, but of course it was messier than either of us agreed to, and in hindsight it looks pretty similar to things where i said they were my boyfriend or whatever (as much as there is any consistency, anyway.) maybe i just dont know what that looks like. i dont remember really believing that any of them were really in it and feeling like i could exhale ever except for ray and alan. i still have to give steven back his huge special condoms and get back No One Belongs Here More Than You, and try to somehow explain to him that im not like normal girls or something and hope he doesnt feel terrible.