it's been awhile. i find it almost difficult to update any of my blogs when i'm happy. i suppose it goes along with the idea that when i'm happy, i'm too busy pleasing myself to jot it all down. my blogs are for raw emotion.. heartache.. low days. writing this out is not a cry for sympathy, compassion, or empathy; rather, it is a proclamation of a tortured heart and pierced soul, both of which are trying to drain out the horrendous pain. if i felt more articulate about the intricate details of my loss(es), i'd eloquently put them into words; sadly, i can't begin to put life into my story.
break-ups are always like a small death. la petit morte, if you will [not in the sexual sense]. for me, being the passionate hermit & the closet romantic, i always feel close to a metaphorical sense of death. soul meets soul on lover's lips, they say; what happens when they meet, intertwine, and attach? love happens. when one of the souls decide to leave the fusion the two once created, the other is left with a whole half missing; empty, broken, and in solitude. everything gets shoved into a different perspective, the solo perspective. lunch for 1, the open space on the bed, awakening to four lifeless walls, inside jokes that will never be shared, snappers (not a bowl for two), walking alone without a hand to hold, tears that fall on the cheap cotton shirts from forever 21 instead of an acid wash american apparel tee, spooning a body pillow over a body, etc.
in a way, falling in love is losing yourself. you become someone else with the person you've fallen for; you mesh to combine each person's best qualities. when the combination starts bringing out the bad qualities, there is also death. he told me once, "...our bond that is only ours. No one can ever destroy that. it will always exist but maybe left behind." unfortunately, i am the handicapped lover who stays (despite getting dropped off and left), hoping that he will turn back around and come get me. when worse comes to worse, i stay until someone else comes and picks me up. love always seems to find me in the most awkward and worst of times. yet at the same time, the moments couldn't be more impeccable.
i used to live "for the moment." repercussions seemed insignificant at the time. at times, i feel obliged to revert back to revenge because of all the pent-up animosity i've accumulated; revenge is temporarily sweet, right before the metallic, bitter taste creeps in and resides for weeks. no thanks, i don't have the black heart for that anymore. relationships are never for the moment. they are moments that gradually build up to form a strong foundation. there are never mistakes, only choices that could have been made differently. good choices, bad choices, everything happens for a reason. if anything, that is the only thing that keeps me going. i believe in love, because i've had it, felt it, and tasted it. but, i absolutely do not have faith in it. i know truthfully that it is real and exists, but it is breakable, unreliable, and fickle. if i have learned anything, it is to guard your heart at all costs, no matter how good it feels to give yourself completely away. eyes on the stars, feet on the ground. & the following is probably not true for the majority, but be brief about your past. even though you, yourself, know it is all in the past, it can still truly turn things into a topsy-turvy wonderland. don't bring your samsonite baggage into your new louis vutton.
i've been nothing short of insane for a few weeks. i go from angry to sad, heartbroken to mad, pathetic and willing to denying and refusing. honestly, it's hard to keep up with me and my emotions. "i am a war of head versus heart. it's always this way; my head is weak and my heart always speaks before i know what it will say." i left because i refused to cry more, yet i run back because he is my "go-to" person in times of despair; that, in itself, is irony if i've ever seen it. i manually leave post-it notes in my head with scribbles of infidelity and lies, but there are more automatic, unpredictable notes that fly my way and speak of the love that once existed. i've always been terrible at choosing sides; i, like love, am flawed. never perfect, but always honest. never a martyr, but always a saint. i suppose the cherry on top of the stake through my chest is that i was resilient and smart, before he melted me into "boo"-goo.
love hurts, but at least it makes me realize i'm still alive.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
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