At This Moment

I don't want chemicals effecting my brain. And my mood. And my life. I don't want coffee or alcohol or muscle relaxers or pot. I don't want knowledge or emotion. I don't want love. God. I don't want love. I don't want sex or passion. I don't want experiences and feeling. I don't want hidden love or painful secrets. I don't want wanting. I don't want goodbyes or hellos. I don't want her to know those secrets. I don't want anyone to know any secrets. I don't want to have secrets. I want to sleep alone in the humidity with only my own sweat to hold me. I want to have my head under a pillow with my eyes open feeling my hot breath bounce and bead along my face and the cloth. I want to have never met her. Or her. And definitely not her. I don't want anyone to know me or like me. I don't want to remember. I don't want to ever speak again. What a relief life could be in silence. Never again to open my mouth. Never again to express needs, eventually to forget I even have some of my own. I want to devote my life to only one other person and have the ability to make her happy and then I don't have to think about me or even exist anymore. I don't really care who, just anyone. I want to read books and never write again. I want to destroy all my old journals so no one and especially not me can ever read or remember. I want to not exist. I want my hot water heater to be stronger and bigger and I want to go sit in the shower steaming up my entire bathroom and out into my entire apartment and just sit at the bottom of the tub under the water with nothing but hot water and steam hiding and smothering me. I want my windows to steam up so no one can see in and no one will notice because the windows will blend in and no one will want to know me or talk to me or get to know me. No one will want to know what's wrong and no one will ask me to make it better because I won't be there to make it better and no one will need me to. I want her to be happy. I want for love and money and sex and pain to not exist. I want to forget everything that's ever happened to me. I want to be out in the rain and floating out past the breakers and being carried downstream. I want the sun to warm my skin and my ears to be underwater. I don't want to escape into substances and forget who I am while being reminded of it. I want to lay down on the floor and do ten pushups and feel the scratch of the carpet on my face. I never want to eat again. I want to be invisible, or at least not noticable. I want. I don't want.

Could Not Do It Without You

This is a post to all those allies out there who, as I so aptly put it, care about LGBT issues, "but only in a I-have-a-gay-friend/my-first-boyfriend-turned-out-to-be-gay/I'm-a-cool-straight-girl-who-is-girls-with-this-flamer type of way".

Dudes, the fight for queer rights (and all rights) would be nothing without those who have the privilege fighting along our sides. I think all of those reasons are PERFECT reasons to fight for LGBTQ rights.

After reading over my last post I realized that my issues with The Ex could be taken as an insult to anyone who fights for the cause without being directly affected by it. All I mean is, when she (and this is about her) does her tiny part of the fight, she covers up why she's doing the fighting and to me that's almost like a step backwards. To accept others you have to first accept yourself and until she's able to be honest about who she is, she'll have trouble accepting others about who they are. At the same time, I think the only way for her to accept who she is is to be around people who do.

AND, oh my god this is important so pay attention to this part I am in no way trying to say that I know her sexuality. I don't. But I do know she denies what she's felt in the past and whatever label she chooses to put on her sexuality, can't be complete and true until she takes all of her life and feelings into account. Even if it's to realize (and this is a big step for me) that some of those feelings aren't real or truly her. (Ow. That still hurts more than it should.)

I think one of the things I hate more than anything, is the fear of losing the person I love, solely because of my gender. And the fear has only grown since it may have already happened once. (Or maybe I'm just a piece of shit and she does love women, she just didn't love me. Take your pick. Rejection is hard.)

The point: The ex and I are over. I'm bitter and wish she would fight for my/her/our/everyone's rights a hell of a lot more. I don't want my bitterness at her to be misunderstood as bitterness and elitism for all of those fucking amazing allies out there who do more work than I could ever dream of. So thank you for remembering that I'm just a person trying to get by in the world and hopefully fall in love and be happy. Thank you even more for fighting--regardless of the catalyst to start the fight--so that I, and we all, can have all of those dreams come true.

Small Town Celebrity

Okay. In case any of you out there didn't know, Columbia is a small place. I won't even go through the business of how I got to hanging out with two new women last night, but I did. They're both in their fourth year of school (one's graduating and one's got one more year until she has her Master's) and DUDE, they are good friends with my first girlfriend. Yes, the first woman I ever kissed is their good friend, aaannnddd she's getting married. Dude! I was the first woman she ever kissed too. I mean, she hates me now, and has good reason to, but dang, I'm so happy for her. The Ex and I did some fucked up shit while hiding our relationship and what we did to Jenn was not so cool. I can't believe she's getting married. I can't believe she lived in the dorms with these two women I randomly hung out with and know through someone totally removed. I mean, Jenn's a dorm friend. I know these other women through, ready?, Women's Center friends -> LGBT friends -> LGBT friends' in the dorm -> LGBT dorm friends' study abroad friend. I don't know how the study abroad friend came to know these women, but then she introduced Jessa and me to them and then we hung out and then we went to the winery and yep, Columbia's a tiny place where those two know Jenn. I was friends with Jenn five years ago. That's nuts. I feel like Jenn and I really need to be friends again. But I'm not sure how to go about doing that. I guess an apology could be a start. I don't know.

Anyway. I feel like maybe that was getting boring. Let me just say one last thing: Closeted Relationships = Bad. Almost four years after it started and one year since it's ended, it still is finding new ways for all of those lies and manipulations to hurt my life. I mean, not nearly as bad as it used to, but still. Shouldn't that be over by now? And why doesn't The Ex have to deal with any of this? She just jumped so far backward deep into the closet that she can't even see the door to come out of. So she lives off in her world of false privilege pretending to care about LGBT issues, but only in a I-have-a-gay-friend/My-first-boyfriend-turned-out-to-be-gay/I'm-a-cool-straight-girl-who-is-girls-with-this-flamer type of way. God, fuck her.

And I think I may have let it slip a little what a big impact The Ex had on me to Jessa last night as we talked all about the tangled webs we weave, and specifically the fucked up web I weaved to make Jenn hate me (or at least want to never have to see or deal with me again). I was asked how long ago The Ex and I broke up and with barely a pause out came "August 25th." Because of course I remember the day. And it only took 14 minutes on the phone. I have a poem about it. Then I cried.

Abrupt (although perhaps it makes complete sense to change here) subject change.

I lay awake in bed last night. We got home (back to my house) after a great night of winery, then awesome new restaurant, then back to their house to chill out (y'know) and Jessa played her guitar and it was awesome. (Oh my god, side note: she is so fucking good. Seriously.) I immediately started to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I have to be at work early every morning. Jessa didn't really like that. So I said I'd lay on the couch with her as she wound down, but I immediately fell asleep with my head in her lap and then something happened where she wanted to move or something, so I got up and just went to bed. I was asleep and then she came to bed and woke me up with sex. Awesome. I told her I would wake up. Which I have and haven't done before. It usually depends on how tired I am and how much wine I've had and how long I've been sleeping and all sorts of stuff. So we woke up and had sex.

I can't even write about this. It hurts me. And then I lay awake in bed last night. With Jessa. That's not supposed to happen with her.

The Possibilities of Another New Book All About Me

Hey, who’s really sick of me not updating? Well, I am, so here’s the beginning of an unfinished poem I wrote yesterday. I just, y’know, wrote something and feel like I should put something up to keep us all occupied a little bit longer. In similar news, I totally finished not only my notebook, but also my journal this weekend. Awesome! And I’m really excited about my new journal. I’m still shopping for a new notebook.

And why don’t I give another quick update while I’m here? Last week Jessa and I had a pretty intense talk about moving in together. She really wants to and I really don’t. Lucky for me, I’m the one who wins in this situation. But it still sucks that I have to hurt her. But I mean, come on. It hasn’t even been six months. And I love my place. I know probably most of you out there will think my main reasoning is because of her and how yeah, that would be a bad idea to live with her; but truly, it’s for me and my sake. I don’t think anyone, including me, is really aware of just how selfless I can be. If I were to live with someone else, especially someone I’m in a relationship with, I would make myself so invisible no one would even realize I’m gone. Because I come back in the form of serving others and the lack of me isn’t noticed for the stand-in me taking care of everyone else. I don’t know all the reasons I do stuff like this, but at least I’m at the point where I can realize that I do, and work not to.

Whew. I didn’t think I’d be able to finish that paragraph and still make sense, but I think I may have pulled it off.

And now, without further ado, an unfinished, unedited poem from yours truly:

I’ve watched you breathe fire
With ever day I’ve known you.
No matter what sort of dried leaves
Between your lungs and the flame—
Your air overpowers the element.

You pass this fire from within your chest
Deep into my gums and throat
By way of lips and tongue and teeth.
You burn down the core of my solidity.

Through your fiery hands
My goose-bumped skin burns and blisters;
Red and inflamed in remembrance of your presence.


So I’m thinking what should happen next is to continue the flames and fire moving down my body and go over what happens. I don’t know what I want the ending to be, or even what my overall meaning should be so I can’t end it until I figure that out, but I’m okay with the language and description in those words, so I’m sharing it.

Okay. Done justifying. Hopefully now that the semester’s (almost) over I can post regularly again.