I actually did write yesterday… just a snippet, I’ll probably clean it up, post it, and change the date.
I’m up early today… actually my ideal waking time, I’ve just been skewing late lately. I had a good 35 minutes of those dreams where I wake up, but somewhere in my morning routine something unusual happens (like why am I in France and who is this chick trying to hand me a croissant?) and I realize that no, I’m actually still asleep and need to try getting up again. I’m sure it’s happened to you (the general you) as well.
Same as yesterday, I actually have stuff I have to do today. I’ll write it out here, but as it’s highly identifiable I’ll erase it from the final copy when I pour my next cup of coffee.
- Make calls for car
- apply to job I found
- call my doctor
- call my asshole father
- call the friend who’s supposed to come next week
I guess that’s not so bad, it’s a pretty standard to do list. As individual as I feel, I guess my days are just as mundane as anyone else.
Last night was pretty good though. I don’t know how to handle things, and I don’t know how to handle myself. At all. Eventually this was going to come up, so why not now.
Dating is crazy. As I mentioned, I’ve only truly had one relationship that actually meant anything. Right now I’m in a relationship that I believe means something to the other person… though I’m not sure. 4 years and I think someone *should* be, but what does serious look like? <=== this is a big question that I will have to come back to at some point, but not right now. At this point, for the one person who comes back and clicking ads, I ask for forgiveness for my extreme superficiality in these posts. I’m literally 5 sips into my coffee ffs, I can’t handle huge problems yet or I’d be on with my to-do list. I’m beginning to see why people like getting up early, so they can get through the zombie stage in time for 9am.
Amidst the uncertainty, I’ve picked up two more men. I don’t know why I did that. There are some highly problematic points in my current relationship, and I guess I’m still craving something that feels a little more real… even though what I’m doing is the absolute polar opposite of that. Neither of these men know anything about me, and what they think they know are mostly lies. Very few outright lies (from me, but I don’t correct them when they try to fill in the blanks for themselves) actually, but I don’t think there’s a single man alive that can handle the enormity of the truth here. It’s really interesting to me how much different I am with different people. So I guess that’s why I do this.
I can literally feel all of my interpersonal relationships get stressed when I start filling them with more than they can hold. I’ve only ever had one that held me, and it didn’t. It was broken. I wish we had let each other know that it was ok (or at least inevitable) to be broken instead of thinking we were going to fix each other. I did want to be fixed, I just didn’t know yet that that was impossible. I think that’s the danger of getting settled too young, the expectations are too high.
Back to the current narrative. It’s ridiculous and superficial, and I think that’s what I was after when I asked the internet to find me dudes. I found one, and he’s actually awesome. Given the factors at hand (which are identifiable and thus redacted), we’re highly compatible and actually if I weren’t so goddamn fucked up it’s statistically likely that we would get married (there are studies, this is science). He has a number of physical traits that I admire. The sex is decent, and actually very good in a few ways that I haven’t been able to find elsewhere.
Last night’s date wasn’t with him, though.
However, when I got home, and couldn’t stop myself from masturbating, I did think of him. It’s nice to feel that fire for someone again. And I found myself thinking that this is serious, and *loving* it. Like everyone else, yes, I touch myself a lot, and yes, I’ve spent time thinking about what my masturbatory fantasies mean. There’s rarely a realistically emotional component for me, aside from those super, super dark demons that just have to be ripped out of my soul through physical release – aggression, power, shame, defeat – don’t pretend you don’t know. I think that’s what makes sex in actual relationships so difficult for me. <=== (yes, I switched thought streams here, but I like this one better). It’s really hard for me to get there with someone when there’s anything actually at stake… and I think I want a relationship where there is something at stake. So it’s a quandary.
Instead, I’m in a relationship where nothing is at stake at all. And I think that’s why I’m still there. The sex is, perhaps not so incidentally, truly amazing. Aside from crushing this poor man’s heart when I leave – which I think will be more about his own ego than his actual expectations of me – there’s nothing going on. And I think he knows it, and has been expecting this since we got together in the first place. I think that’s why he hasn’t fully committed. He’s ready for the end, and because of that there was no real beginning. I don’t think he’s even capable of feeling the depth of fire that I crave… but can’t reciprocate.
My ex would have died for me. I believe that. Maybe I’m lying to myself.
I think I would have died for him.
Maybe I’m lying to myself.
I think this is going to be my last comment of the day.
I was rereading the part about masturbation, and I realized why I can’t deal with my side dude. Because he actually knows me and the sex is real.
And I don’t want that. It’s that simple and I am a fucked up person and for that reason he has to go. There’s really not another way to handle it. I have to tell him and it’s going to be flat an honest like that and I hope he understands.
What the fuck is wrong with me.
I realized while reading this post, that I have begun to move away from using the generalized “you” pronoun.
I remember having a lot of difficulty inperspective switching with my glitter gay literary friend while, talking about relationship problems with him. When is it you, when is it me, when is it I, when are we drawing parrallels, when are we giving directions, when are we empathizing, and when are we transferring, when are we sublimation, and when do we truly understand. When should you be we, and where are you anyway.
People are afraid of themselves, you are and so am I.
The lead singer of this band looks like a guy I was talking to on Tinder while in denial of my relationship status.
How is my to-do list still the same, almost a year later.
Fuck my life, and fuck this empty husk of hubris that actually thought that anything here would be unique.
I have that feeling right above my diaphragm like in those free-fall rides at the carnival – I hate that feeling.
I keep trying to cut this comment short so that I can go back to reading, but I guess I should just give in – why the fuck not.
I’m unsure where I should focus my efforts for the rest of the day, but deep in myself I think I know. Why do I not want to accept it? I should preemptively cancel my dinner plans with the boy, but I’m afraid that if I do I will regret it. However, it is at this point much more likely that I will try to go over there and regret it, as happens nearly every fucking time.
I wonder if it’ because I’m once again not letting myself truly enjoy myself, or if he’s just really that onerous and I was not letting myself see that.
I’m cancelling.
Coffee comment well spent.
Although re-reading this post, as shallow as it is, I do see how my writing style and my personal narrative has matured over the year of writing here.
I think this is a valuable exercise, but I have to find some way to apply the skills I’m cultivating here