So, I fucked up today and did other stuff before getting on here. Not much, and hopefully not too much damage has been done.

That boy is going to kill me. <=== do I even know who I’m talking about anymore?

He didn’t text me this morning, I think I’m up earlier than he anticipated (and earlier than I anticipated, given that I took 5mg of melatonin last “night”). However, I did wake up with some things from our discussion last night on my mind, and did a little bit of research.

I had imagined a rule for myself, not to look at any serious stuff before I had gotten coffee, gotten in here, and unloaded. Now, I can’t remember my dreams from last night. It’s all gone. I’m having a hard time getting to that flow state, my writing seems less self-propelled and more motivated. I’m building instead of deconstructing. Maybe it’s the caffeine, I just hit here too late in my chemical cycle and missed the usual point of departure and now have to struggle to catch the tail of the dragon before it flies away.

Walter Moseley describes this half woke, dream dusted state in his book… and notes that while we wake up and often leave the door to our subconscious half ajar, it blows shut when we begin our day and all the revelations that our brain came up with overnight will be filed away in permanent storage and no longer be able to recalled. I have a feeling that I got here too late today, I thought too hard about the future and now the present is actually the past. I’m trying not to get too mad at myself about it – after all, there’s always tomorrow.

And today. I feel unusually motivated. I’m attributing it to melatonin, and my fresh clean brain. I’ve got things to do today, and tomorrow, as always. A while ago, my horoscope (which I also stopped checking during medical leave) said to rest, and that I would need it. It was right, as it always is – sometimes you just have to squint at it a little – and there’s so many things that I’m behind on doing. Stuff I have to figure out, logistics. I have appointments I have to make, keep, and reschedule. I still haven’t checked my work email, and some parts of my personal life are lagging as well. I missed a call from my boyfriend last night while I was fucking someone else.

That boy is going to kill me.

The mask is starting to slip. It’s starting to be more than a show. I’m beginning to realize what’s missing in my relationships, and my life, and me.

Honesty.

And I think that’s kind of why he reminds me of my ex. He’s a real person, and our interactions are real. I, honestly, completely forgot what that feels like. It totally hit me like a ton of bricks and knocked the wind out of me and whatever human allusions can be made to just blowing my fucking mind and leaving me absolutely blank, clueless and scrambling. It has been 3 almost 4 months of fucking this guy before I could figure out what’s going on here. Now I just can’t figure out why I couldn’t figure it out sooner, and why I couldn’t find it anywhere else.

A good portion of the answer to that question is obvious – I’m a fraud for a living. My current boyfriend met me under an assumed name (and everything that comes along with that), and while I didn’t think it mattered – and have always thought that it was utterly ridiculous that it mattered to anyone – the difficulty that I have had in backtracking and getting out of that weird fantasy world and turning the relationship into something real makes it apparent that there’s some things to consider there. <=== not sure what, though. Not sure if it’s them, or me. They always insist and press, and I’m always evasive. Who is the problem here?

It might be me, it might not be. Tonight, I’m going out with someone else, the same someone else I mentioned before. It’s completely different. This man also met me free range, in the normal and open arena of the internet (and not those deep dark places that are so much of my life). Why do our interactions feel so much less… I can’t find the word that needs to go here. My mind is occupied thinking about other things.

That boy is going to kill me. I need to let him go. He’s asking absolutely nothing of me, and frankly that is 100% more than what I’ve got. I should just tell him I’m a barista at Starbucks or a McDonald’s drivethru attendant. I’m not ready to face this, I’m am not ready to face that crumbling look on a man’s face. He reminds me of my ex, and I remember what that looks like. I remember where I was, what my -*our* – house looked like, which table we had, the stray wisp of dog hair under the chair that I hadn’t swept up yet, it was right in the kitchen. And I remember how he tried to make it seem like it was no big deal. All he said was “oh” but it was like a ghost left – not entered – the room at that moment. I don’t understand why, I don’t really even understand what happened, but I don’t want to do that to anyone or myself ever again.

He said “I appreciate you being honest with me.” and I pretty much consider that the end of my life. And I just don’t know how, after all this and half my life later, after 4 years of desperately trying to fake feelings in what really ought to be a much more honest relationship that a random swipe on the most mundane part of the internet can come through and instantly feel so real that I know I can ruin it. I’m doomed.

I bet you, the person clicking ads, are just coming here for the fish photos.

I can relate.