Games

Does she really think just because she doesn't see me cry it means I don't feel any pain? Is it really that I betrayed her, or is it that I stepped out of her control? Others have characterized her actions as those of a spurned lover, I have to say that that is how she sounds. It's always the same thing, I'm far away so she can't mope around for me to see. So she stays angry for a long time, lets something slip to her mom, who says something to him. Then he'll call me up or talk to me, tell me I should try to talk to her. So I do, and she gets angry. I say something wrong, something that is honest but upsets her, she gets angry or just leaves. And if she knows that I'm talking to her because of someone elses concerns, then, oh then she get livid. She won't speak to me, the last conversation I thought was civil really wasn't. If I don't say exactly what she wants, or do exactly what she wants, then I'm not trying, I don't care, I don't love her enough. She has as much as said these things to me. All these games to push me away and keep me close, a blow up now and then to make sure I still know, and she still has a reason to be angry. I'm not playing this game. People who hear my side think she's crazy, one person who I've delved into every detail with has been in an abusive relationship and says that it was like this, like the way I feel.
I don't miss her, not being with the way she is now, I miss the way we used to be but I wouldn't go back to it. I won't live her expectations, I won't think the thoughts she says are right, act the way she likes, love her and no other. A person cannot be another person's god, it can't last.
And I still love her, because I can't not love her, but I don't want that back. And I won't do this anymore, I won't contact her if this is what happens every time. If she wants to contact me, fine. If she wants to bring attacks and whatever guilt she thinks she can create, I won't have it. I don't want to talk to her, because that isn't talking.
M

Another One of Those Days

I had my sewing sale yesterday. I made just shy of a hundred and fifty dollars, but I still have a ton of stuff left over. I've been trying to figure out what to do with it, with some ideas from my stepmom and my dad. Hopefully I'll at least be able to give it to somebody who can use it even if I can't sell it. I'm falling behind in my studies a bit, trying to catch up on that today. Maybe I'll review some of the stuff I didn't get on me last exam, DNA seems to be evading my comprehension a little. I was starting to think I might get it before the test informed that I really didn't. Oh well, nose back in the books I guess.
I've been a little sick the past few days, today I can't barely talk because of my throat. I didn't answer the phone because I knew I wouldn't be able to be understood by the person I was talking to. It feels like it's letting go though, maybe I'll be better tomorrow. My stepmom rearranged my furniture and cleaned up my livingroom when she was here yesterday, she asked me if I had any pictures to put up. It looks like it needs some now that it's so damn tidy in there. Haha. She's a sweetheart, all of my family is. I guess I got lucky like that.
Speaking of, I've been expecting to see my sweetheart and not getting to for quite a few days in a row now. I'd be able to deal with not seeing him if I didn't have my hopes up before hand. He said he'd call and come over and hasn't a couple of times. If I don't see him tonight I'm going to be very unhappy, and he'll hear about it. I think I'm going to go pick up an expectorant and take a long hot shower before I get back to studying, but I have to get my work schedule today so maybe I should just make one longer trip before I get back to studying. Or I could just drink some tea and crawl back into bed... I hate being sick.

Sex Life, nothing explict mind you.

Some people can talk about sex in a normal voice in a public place, I'm not one of them. I turn pinkish and smile giddily, maybe nodding or mumbling comments if asked something. Even in private with friends I can't delve into intimate details, and there are some friends to whom I might not fully admit that I have a sex life. The person I don't talk about sex with whom I *know* I should is the person I'm having it with. We didn't talk about it before, we don't talk about it during and we don't talk about it after. Before we started having sex it was sort of understood that we were the others first, I know he was mine and I implied it, I think I was his but I haven't asked him. We've been sleeping together for a while, a couple of months, and my period has been an emense reasurance to me. It's funny how something can go from making you cranky to hopeful and comforted.
When we first started going out, he wanted me so much it was tangible, so much it scared me. He desired me so much that he would hurt me by mistake, kiss me too roughly or hold me too tightly, and I guarded myself from him to a degree. Now that he has me and he knows it, and I can let him know that I want him too and I'm not going anywhere, I'm much more comfortable. He takes cues from me and he has spent a night in my bed without anything happening. And it's not that passion has waned, it's more that care and love has grown. We actually have sex more than when we started to, and every time is even better than the last.
My major, nail-biting concern is that he doesn't protect me, but after a couple months without dire consequences I have to wonder if I inehirited my mom's fertility problems.

God, hope no one reads this. :P
M

Love and Logistics

A friend of mine is having problems with her boyfriend, she thinks they're going to break up. Looking at it from my spot on the sidelines is making me think. He is a lot like me, some of my weaknesses and strengths, and seeing her view and empathizing with her I see some things about myself. I understand what others don't like about me, I have more clarity on things I don't like about myself. I know the way she is, I know her strengths and weaknesses as well, and I wish he could see himself, and her, from the sidelines. Because she needs him, and I'm sure he needs her too, but she can't make him see what she's thinking and he won't do what she wants, but can't outrightly ask of him. It's odd, people are all so different, everyone is unique so they say, but we all seem to follow the same emotional patterns. We all seem to alienate each other in the same ways. We expect different things of each other from one moment to the next, we don't speak our minds in the blind belief that we are understood, or when we do we are angry that our thoughts come as a surprise. Sometimes I worry about my own relationship, not because I don't love my sweetheart, but because I have no idea how to handle being in love. I know the things I should change about my behavior, but it doesn't make it easier to face up to doing that. I don't say what I'm thinking, I don't have the courage to bring up what I agonize over in my head. I'm afraid of being loved too deeply because I don't know where that will take me, and I'm afraid I would let myself end up just along for the ride.

Death and Life.

My snake died yesterday. She was fine before that, crawling around, drinking, it was just about time for her feeding. But then, the next morning, curled up motionless. I had been fearing this, my lizard died a month ago, I've been feeling cursed, like it was only a matter of time before things started to die from being near me. She probably had no real affection for me, I admit that, but she was a sweet little creature and I did love her. If I knew what was wrong then I wouldn't be so hurt, if I could have at least tried to help then I wouldn't feel like I missed something. It has to be one of the worst things, having a being in your sole care die, being the god of something's immediate world and failing to live up to that responsiblity. I think I'm going to give up reptiles for a while. I used to be so good with them, but I hate this.

I was thinking last night, while I was working with things of my mother's, getting them ready to sell. I was thinking that I don't think I know anyone else who would admit that they wish they were more like their mother. Not because she was perfect and I worship her, but because her flaws were so small and her good traits were so beautiful. I'm certain that if she had lived to teach me to be the woman she was by example I would not have appreciated that, she had to be absent for me to see her. I realise I didn't really know who she was when I was a kid, I loved her very much, when I was little she was always my world and constant, but I didn't appreciate that and I didn't know her thoughts or the events of her past. Now I find things she wrote and painted and made, and I do feel close to her. I hope the things I love in her are in me, I hope that as I was with her before, I'm simply too close to see them.

M

The First Dream I've Remembered In Months

Just before I woke this morning I had a dream. One that I felt I had had before as a child. It was probably different then, my character was probably a child, it was probably set in the house I lived in then, but when I woke I was convinced I had dreamed it before long ago. I dreamed I came into a room, which was mine but I was not simply myself, and found my comrades around a great many tanks of snakes. My snakes. There were dozens of them, some I recongnized as real species, some patched together from reality. The lids of their tanks were all ajar and they were crawling around, some visiting other species some moving away from the table and bed they were on. I started trying to put them back and chastizing my comrades for releasing them. They gave an odd defense, I don't quite remember, the snakes had needed exercise, or asked, or something. The snakes almost spoke to me, but they made no noise. They were confused and trying to find their ways back to their homes. I put them back and as I was collecting the last someone burst into the room and opened fire on us with a machine gun. I hit the floor and watched as some of my comrads did the same, or fired back. I tried to protect the snakes and myself, some of my comrads fell doing the same. I pulled a lid to one of the tanks in front of me, knowing that the bullets couldn't pierce it. The woman firing at us focused on me and I moved the lid to block her as I crawled towards her. When she turned to fire away from me again I rose and struck her with my cover in the gut. She swung her gun towards me but didn't raise it. I struck her again on the shoulder and brought her to her knees. She looked at me and asked me why I had been able to defeat her when she had felled many of the expert agents I worked with. I responded that I was not an agent and raised my odd, light weapon to underneath her chin.
When I woke, I believed I had dreamed it before. I also realised how odd it was, almost campy. A hero weilding a plastic lid, who stops a slaughtering with a single blow? The snakes and blood and sounds, and the way my pulse was racing from the reality of it, were the only things to keep me from laughing my ass off at it.