Wings on Backwards

Wings on Backwards

:: 2005 5 January :: 10.11pm

hmm.
HMM I SAY.
because

it's still the same, that wierd thrill. reading corwin's entries. that almost-pain. that something that comes up and then i shove it down just as quickly. i don't know.
gwd.
when will i ever get over this. i mean, obviously something is lacking . . . something is undone. i never did tell him how badly it hurt. how pissed off i was. how bad i was doing. whether it was as a result of his actions or not . . . he made it worse. so much fucking worse. confirmed all of my suspicions & paranoia. i still can't believe it. ever. when [jim] says he loves me.
maybe he hasn't been showing it, true.
i know i hurt him. wish i hadn't. he says he doesn't want to let people in. they'll hurt him. and i can't say that it's a bad solution. i've been trying to do the same thing. and i know it's better than the alternative. but.
sitting here on the other side of it, i have to say, it hurts.
i can go 90% but i need you to come the other ten, jim. just open up to me a little. eventually. please.
i'm not asking you to feel the way that you did, you can't, neither of us can. but i'm about to make myself as exposed to you as i can be. trying to make this fucked-up excuse for a relationship work. and it doesn't work if you're just going to be a fucking slab of rock at me.
hff. you say you'll be able to trust me eventually. i'm not sure you understood the question.
& even if it's not me, you need to open up to someone, sometime.
[maybe i'm misinterpreting the whole issue.
maybe he already has.
maybe he can succeed where i have failed.
maybe he's simply not as weak as i am.]
gzzzzzzzh. i want nothing more in the world than for you to find that perfect joy. i fear, however, that that ship has sailed for you. with one or the other.
hrm. then again, never underestimate the future. i'm convinced for my own sake that she's out there somewhere . . .
[& selfishly hoping that she's me. har.]

i kind of really hate it when i make entries in second person like this.

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suspensionrings

:: 2005 2 January :: 11.19pm

Who or what and more importantly why . . .

Every time I get a hand-hold on this she comes back with something <~~new~~OLD to swing at me. It's harder it's faster it's heavier and it seems to be getting harder to recover from [just in the past couple days. sure it'll smeg off eventually. emoemoemo]

sick of complaining --

Jim said, "You're completely terrified that I'm going to up and leave you at any second," to which I nodded vigorously, "and it's affecting the relationship."

[without a pause to wonder, don't be silly -- wait. we actually have a relationship? when did you decide this? not that i'm complaining, mind you . . .]

"Give me one fucking reason why you wouldn't!"

"Because I don't do that kind of shit."

Fine, but I'm still choking on my own shit. I'm sick of it, naturally -- who wouldn't be? -- but it's so ingrained in me. I'm not entirely sure that I want to give it up.

I'm afraid of pain to a ridiculous degree. The stupid part is, I know I could block it out pretty easily if I ever put my mind to it. I don't know if it was the alchohol or the state of mind or both, but I can shut down the physical side of myself with an eerie ease. He said he would have broken my arm if I bit him again -- fuck it, we were both drunk, right? Apparently it brings out our hidden monsters. -- and in retrospect, were I not owned by the government, I would so love to push it. See how far he would go [I'm sure that he would go all the way. He's training himself to become a weapon, right? And "Richard" doesn't care any more than effigy does.] how much I could take.

Well, no. I'm a fucking coward. Even as effigy. A fucking coward.

I could never hurt him, I realize. I know I need that at this point, I know he's the only thing keeping me alive and he'll be what pulls me out of this hole -- if anything does.

He's more mature at 19 than I probably will be at fifty. When he's fifty, he'll be a fucking master. I'll be lucky if I make to fifty. Shit, I'll be lucky if I make it to thirty. You're supposed to get over this stage in your life where you thing suicide is an option by the time you graduate high school, right. I rather haven't. Which leads me to the realization that it's going to be with me forever. She is going to be with me forever. However long that forever may be.

She says repeatedly that he doesn't give a shit, no one will, no one can. A laundry list of reasons why they can't, why I'm not worth it, etc. etc. I can't help but wonder if it's all just an excuse for her to die again. And make it last. She wants nothing else. I wish I could give it to her. But I need her.

I don't need her.

I need her.

I don't know. Ecch.

If I have someone to be strong for, I can. If I have someone to protect, I could probably take an insane amount of damage for their sake. Jim is entirely self-sufficient. He's a fucking stone piller. I can cling to it but I can contribute nothing. In the end, he's almost as crippling as she is.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 22 December :: 7.02pm

because she's safe.
because she'll never know.
because she's more fucked up than i am, and i need that right now.
ohgodaliciawhereareyou.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 19 December :: 6.52pm

It's like driving along those winding mountain roads. It always scared the shit out of me.

Yeah, I'm in control. But there's still the possibility, the chance of going over. And if you go over, all is lost. You die. The End.

I don't trust myself with that much responsibility. "Are you going to cheat on me," he asks, and I don't fucking know. No, no, fuck no, I say, a knee-jerk reaction, but I can't fucking tell. Her words echo in a way that drops the floor from under my feet: You're too goddamn retarded not to. I'm a fuck-up. I'm a tremendous fuck-up and I know it and this is the most important thing that ever was [to me] and I don't trust myself with it.

And all I want to do is lie in his arms until it all goes away. He makes me feel so safe. Like nothing else matters. [What a fucking cliche. I sicken myself.]

He doesn't and I think won't ever understand her effect on me. I don't know what'll happen if I fall into a rage directed at him. I fear I might hurt him. Physically, emotionally, I don't know how. I fear, undirected.

& selfish little prick that I am, I worry more that he'll realize he doesn't have to take it anymore than that I might do actual damage. Well, no. I'm pretty sure I can't hurt him that bad, I guess. Certainly no more so than Pam. So it all comes down to his willingness to take my shit, how honest about myself I can be around him, if I'll ever know where the line is or that I've crossed it until it's too late.

I mean. This is the normal shit people worry about in relationships. I'm just a coward, crippled by it.

He asks, will I cheat on him. I don't know. Sex means so little to me. I can't get around that. Even with him, it's nothing special. I derive more joy from falling asleep next to him than fucking him. I keep thinking back to fucking random friends for no good reason, asking myself why why why, what what going through my head . . . I can't. Bring myself to care about it. And that scares me, because I fail to realize the risks.

He asks, were you even attracted to him, and I say, yeah, sort of. I guess. It's wierd. I have no basis for it. Yeah, I'll fuck my friends . . . they're my friends. I don't care in the least about it, why should they? I fail at human understanding. I fail at empathy. Dan did an insanely good job of hiding his feelings for me, and I did an insanely good job of killing mine for him. And in the end despite everything that Sab has said, it just ended up screwing us both over. We may never recover.

Lost trust, lost love. I am not virgin territory. Why does he even stick around.

I'm not monogamous, I don't understand monogamy, I don't understand jealousy, I don't understand "making love," I am not

[what he needs. or even wants.]

human

[DEFECT]

I am

[kivarth pukkukku. antuoth pukkukku. akh pukkuk!
Translation: Fucking idiot. And she slams me against the wall, hiss-grinning for what we both know is true. Defective. Inhuman. Wrongwrongwrong.]

myself.

The part that bothers me most is that, aside from the lack, I can feel nothing wrong with it. It is how I was made. I cannot be any other way.

Unfortunately several of my modules seem to be mutually incompatible. The conflict must be resolved or I will lose my life.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 19 December :: 6.24pm

I hate what this journal has become, actually . . .

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 16 December :: 11.09pm

mi'more

thank you thank you fucking thank you. you have no idea how much this one stupid thing means. thank you. for everything.

tears almost, but the good kind. it flows in me like reverse drowning.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 12 December :: 12.37pm

Hah. Hah. And the funny/stupid part is, if I'd just checked my bloody e-mail, I'd have something to do for the evening.

Um, god. I feel so fucking isolated here. No car, nowhere to walk [no bloody sidewalks!] No one I can relate to. No one I can call. Jim's usually working or whatever . . . Shi I have always refused to use as a pick-me-up . . . even though she is . . . miss being able to call Dan and demand that he come spend time with me when I was twitchy. It was good, just having somebody there. Random goddamn conversations about fantasy serieses and whatever.

I dunno. I mean maybe. Eventually. An rp group I've seen all of once is closer to friends than the guys I spend twelve hours a day with four days a week? With the people who live in the same building that I do? Well, shit. Sorry. I'm realizing that I really cannot get along with anyone who isn't at least a half-breed nerd. And none of these people would know Thac0 if it bit them in the ass.

Poo. Pitypartypityparty.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 2 December :: 7.30pm

And always this hope in the back of my mind. That if I can just be good enough to matter. If I can be strong enough, beautiful enough, fragile enough, perfect enough, I'll matter. And when I say matter. I mean.

Well, you know.

But I'm a fool for believing it. I can never add up to any of them.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 2 December :: 3.32pm

the adrenaline hits and she coughs for a few instants, bleeding off the energy until i can think again. hissing rasping breath and my arms feel like they're made of molten lead.

i make a noise, and she leaps across the room to bury my face in cement. her mouth is open, but there are no words, no reason for the words. we both know my mistake, she simply growls out her frustration and leaves me to soak into the floor.

it hits, again and again and again, for as long as i'll let it. always this. knowledge. backhand to the fucking face, but not from her, no, from the idea itself. it does more damage than she ever would.

her screams are mine. her arms around my neck are comforting. the walls shake as i collapse in a corner, and she just paces, on fire on fire on fire.

finally, the words that we all knew were coming.

never trust again. never. never fall again. never allow yourself to be used like that. never be their . . . she drops the hand, sighing. a look a question. just. please. stop doing this to us?

i'll try. i'll try and i'll fail and it will destroy me in the end. but i've got to try. in the end, being heartless would not be so bad, when it's compared to this.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 29 November :: 7.03pm

. . . it's there, just under the surface.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 28 November :: 4.46pm

& I think, maybe. Maybe this is all an unnecessary cage around me. I repress too much, perhaps.

Having simply broken the first oath and the second. The [seventh? where the hell did the other five go?] seems rather pointless now, but I stick to it for a] lack of any real means to break it, and b] still the vague hope that . . . you know.

Anyway. He might use me to pay for his college education. Who the fuck knows. I've stopped caring about it, really. I'm just waiting to see which way it falls, braced for it either way. & I know that either way, a part of me dies and a part is set free.

And well. To be fair. I'm sort of expecting it to go the one way . . .

And well. To be fair. I've already given up on being his, or anyone's, "one and only." If he decides to marry me, there will be no ceremony. I forbid it. I will not lie, and will not be lied to. It's all for the money. And the chance to be around him for a little while longer. And the chance to.

He loved me once. Regardless of whether he still does, I'll always know that he loves her more. That he'll always, in the back of his mind, want to be with her over anyone. etc.etc. I'll cope. Am. Something.

Nobody gets inside of me anymore. Never again.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 27 November :: 1.51pm

I'm laughing. I'm laughing.

This Oath has nothing on me.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 27 November :: 2.10am

I have no idea how many "oaths" I've taken, what their full scope is or how un/healthy they may be.

But I know that. The second one. Is just as necessary as the first was. I know that it pulls but that in the end I can no longer . . .

The first was because of an unhealthy obsession, a knowledge that everything I said or did in relation to this person would be of itself flawed, stupid, and probably harmful. Somehow, this situation seems exactly the same. I will watch from the sidelines, but can no longer be a part of it.

I have the miniskirt, the fishnet, the black shirts in a paper bag waiting to be thrown out. Discarding the memories, the signifigance. The sick feeling in gut when I remember my appearence. A car driving by mistook me for a hooker.

Worse case scenario, it'll be maybe another year. Worse case scenario, this revulsion will remain for the rest of my life. Worse case scenario, I grow into the boring little shit I was always afraid to be. But this is so much worse. Somehow.

Shillowe wanted nothing more than to settle down. She was sick of that life. The partying and the fucking and the none of it meaning a damn thing. So she meets this wonderful guy and now there are plans for marriage. If there was hope for her, of all people, perhaps there is hope for me too? I feel stained. Ruined. Tarnished physically by that which taints my soul.

I was always afraid of being used, and yet I walked right into it. Dan had no intentions of simply fucking me when we met. He just thought I was this incredibly geeky chick and . . .

He said, why couldn't I have met you three years ago?

Coming to grips with feeling affection for anyone has never been my strong point. I literally have no idea what I felt for him. Only that I killed it.

For what it's worth, though, he was a good friend.

. . . . And I guess I can see Shillowe's point regarding Benson, as well. But I am easily swayed by a sense of humor and a capacity to brood. And he's a nice guy under all that alchoholism.

Something something something. Dirty little secret. Isn't, but feels like it is. That backlash, that fear. I failed to understand until two weeks before leaving Keesler that yes, I would see Jim. For reeelz.

On the phone, I was crying, and said I wanted nothing more than to be where he was. I said it without thinking, hardly believed myself afterwards. This is such shit, it must be, I don't say things like that. I'm not romantic. I'm incapable of love. This is not a Disney movie.

But I knew it was true. I had, at that point, only known him in person for four days. But I'd missed him from the second he left.

I want to go back to the beach in Biloxi. Walk along it for hours and forget everything but the streets and the sand.

Eventually, Virginia will be a home too. Ghetto or no ghetto. Car or not. Tomorrow, I hit the streets. This may be the shit part of town, but it's mine now. I'll do with it as I please. [egoegoego.i'msoscared,really.]

Tomorrow's the 27th.

. . . I don't feel any older. Just irreperably covered in filth. This is my [November] This is my time of the year.

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suspensionrings

:: 2004 26 November :: 2.15am

i hate this part of it. the realization that it doesn't matter and i can't speak. mouth shut with iron of my own making. none of them need my shit, i should stop spewing it. etc.etc.

i never mattered to him. i can never matter to her. and you are . . . just out of reach, at best. at worst, proving my suspicions correct.

godammit. i hate this. so much.

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