Today I remembered a boy who had movie-man for a nickname. Cine for short. I remember the night we sang to each other songs we both had written. His song I can still hear within me and on youtube, as it seems. It was one of his bands "hits", if ever they had one. Every time I hear it, or remember it, I cry.
I don't know what happened or why we drifted, if we drifted, it hurt though. It hurt me deeply because I was so much in love with him. And when he just passed by the next day like nothing had happened and just winked like it was meant to be a secret, I died a little inside. It was like I was choking and I couldn't breathe. I don't know what happened. And I never will know. It's been 20 years... Life goes on.
I'm not sure if he loved me, liked me or just used me. I know that night was perfect. We made love. For a while it felt like we were the only two people left in the world. Then, I fell asleep. He left. And we went back to being... whatever it was we were or are. Friends. He moved on. I moved on. But that night and his beautiful song remains with me.
This is how it goes, this is how it is: my body is scared. Self-inflicted and accidental scars. It was always about feeling something besides shame. Now these scars have nothing on the emotional scars I now have. I regret hurting other people. I regret living. Sometimes, most of the times lately, I wish I was never born. I wouldn't have hurt everyone that I ever hurt and maybe they're lives would have been better for never having met me.
I feel like I should be guarded so other people don't get hurt. And I don't want to hurt either, I have such an emotional earthquake within me it destroys everything when I cut lose and let my emotions out. I can't ever do that again. For my sake as well as for everybody else's. Nobody wants to read this. It's filled with super sad clichés. Nobody needs details of all my stupidity and sadness.
I write because I breathe. As long as I breathe I need a way to tame this turmoil inside me. Writing keeps the demons at bay and it gives me moments of clarity... seconds, really, through the thousands of screaming voices that echo inside my head. Sometimes I feel like I am cursed. I always looked for someone out there to save me. But I never did find anyone who could. Many have tried, but I kept pushing them away because deep down I know I can't be saved by anyone.
Many times I wished I could fall into a dream and everything else would be an afterthought. I always looked at other people to make shit better but only I can do that.
One day, you'll like someone so much they'll rip right through you. This is what I'm thinking as I listen to one of my friends joke how she doesn't like anyone and how tough she is. But one day... someone will gut her and her eyes wide open she'll play back all the joking around about not ever falling in love or liking someone enough to stay.
I know this because I would say the same thing. I swore I'd never fall in love and that there wasn't anyone in the world I would ever like. I was gutted. Gutted by the realization when I first fell head over heels for him. My first love... he tore right through me like a hot knife running through butter in the summertime. I was never the same. There were other loves after. But my heart forever guarded against the torment that first love caused me. Even after 20 years I still think of how it felt to be in love. Not with him. I don't care about him. But that first love, that feeling, the first time you have it... there will never be anything like it ever again in your entire life.
I guess that's why I am sad all the time. The doctor says I look sad and I have a sad face. I am sad. I will never have those days back. I will never have that love back. I will never have that feeling back, or a chance to ever relive those first-time experiences. And as time passes by, my sadness grows and it encapsulates me in a cocoon I'll never emerge from.
One day I'll be a ghost and I'll roam the Earth looking for young people going through these first-time experiences and I'll share them even though they are not aware of my presence. And perhaps, watching them live in a way I never could might bring me solace, some glimmer of joy. Perhaps I might smile again...
Yesterday you texted me. I didn't want to read it. You texted me from a phone that isn't yours, from somewhere other than your house. I still didn't want to read it. I don't care if you've finally went to rehab. I'm selfish, readers might think, but I don't care. I don't want to get sucked back into this vortex of fucking insanity anymore. I don't want to deal with your family. I don't want to deal with your mom or with your aunts. I just want to be left alone. I've been beaten down enough. By you and all the rest of your family. Just leave me be. I did not write you a letter nor will I. I write on here to exorcise my own inner demons because talking to you would accomplish nothing as you clearly don't want to hear anything I have to say, just like before. You never heard me, or seen me. All you cared about was yourself, and your dreams and your goals. Fuck all the rest. I have dreams and goals too! But you just ran all over anything I had to say, thought, or wanted for myself. So now... this is it. You broke me and I hate myself for letting myself get broken. I just want to be alone.
Today I took my mom shopping. It finally started to rain. We were talking about the good old days and she mentioned my grandmother and I just start balling. I had to stop the car. I just sobbed and cried and my face got puffed up and red. My mother didn't quite know what to say her do. She's never been really good at comforting people. I don't think anyone in my family is very good and comforting each other. I calmed down and she went ahead with her grocery shopping and I just went for coffee and waited for her to be done. The ride back home was pretty quiet...
I started the new meds my doctor gave me yesterday. I had an appointment. Basically she says I'm sad and I look sad. I shrugged. I have nothing much to be happy about. So yeah... I'm sad. Doesn't take a genius to notice that. I wonder how long it will take for these happy meds to kick in because I really need to get my train of though back on the coherent track. Right now there's so much shit going through my mind a thousand miles per second and I can't grasp or hold on to a single interesting thought.
I can't sleep. It takes me forever to fall asleep. I toss and I turn. I hear the neighbor's cows moo throughout the night, I hear the other neighbor's dogs bark and howl violent and eerie melodies at the moon, I hear the birds chirping when first light comes out. I toss and turn some more. I think I fell asleep. The alarm buzzes. I curse and get up. Here we go again. Another day. Rinse and repeat.
A woman outside is screaming. Someone ran over her dog. She is screaming and crying, but I feel nothing. I want to cry and silently mourn the death of the woman's beloved animal, but nothing... not even a fake whimper. My heart is empty, hardened. For days I've tried to cry but I just don't seem to be able. I've lost that ability. For now, it seems. I know that one day soon it'll hit me like a ton of bricks and I'll cry all day and maybe all night too. But for now... nothing. Just numbness. I do feel stuff... but they're like tickles behind my chest or scratches in the back of my brain, just not enough to let lose the ocean of tears I have inside of me to let lose. Also... I feel like crying alone at this moment might be dangerous for me. Because most times I come to the conclusion that the world and the people around me would be much better off without me getting in their way. And so I just hide up in the attic away from everyone and everything waiting for that good big cry to come and wash away all my sadness. Will that day ever come? Will it ever rain?
I am going down. Deep down withing myself. I drown in desperate lonely thoughts that I don't think I can describe in a way people would understand. It's my own private hellish playground. I am only happy when I am asleep. When I sleep, I dream. And my dreams have been wonderful lately. Just last night I dreamed that my mom was baking one of her scrumptious cakes, and she was all quaalude happy and 70's stylish, and those cakes just slid out of the pan onto the floor and they were so big I could jump around in them as we ate them. So many colors... strawberry red, golden sponge cake, purple blueberry, raspberry pink, chocolaty brown... perfection. I actually woke up smiling even though I had to wake up early to get a penicillin shot. Turns out tonsillitis wasn't tonsillitis at all - it was scarlet fever.
So now I am getting ready to jump back into bed looking forward to the next dream that will take me away from the shit my life is and has become.
Tonight I would like to hang out with my grandparents. I never got to know them all that well. I would love to get advice from them. But hey, that wouldn't really be a dream. Well... it is a dream that I have, but an unattainable one. I guess we'll have plenty of time to talk when it's my time to die. I hope they'll be there to hold my hand and smile. BEcause I can't imagine anything being worse than this life we're living. This is the real hell... Nothing... no tears. Will it ever rain?
It's not me... I'm not the one you're looking for, nor am I the one you dream of. I'm not the one you need. I am fire and I am ice. I am stillness and I am furious sound. I am a witch's wind and soft lullaby. I am everything, I am nothing. As for hate and love... I am neither.
I am not the love you are looking for, I am not the one you found. I am not the hate you now harbor within since I left. I am nothing, I am everything.
I am not what you need, I am not love, or passion, or grace. I am not the obedient wife you dream of, I am not the happy girlfriend you wanted to show off. I am not the evil spinster cursing your life. I am not the witch who stole your heart. I was a replacement... and for some time you were happy with these delusions that I might be what you need... but I am not. I am not what you need. I am not what you want.
I am a free spirit. I am me. I am a wild fire set by misery. I am the rain that pours as mystery. I am and I am not. I am all, I am nothing. But as for happiness and sadness... I am neither.
I am unsure of everything, of myself. Of love and time and my role in this universe... but one thing I am so very sure of, down to the marrow of my bones, I'm not what you need. I am not the one you love. I am not her. And I shall never be anyone but myself. So there you have it... I am not what you need.
This is sort of how I feel at the moment. I certainly am tired as fuck. I'm tired of all the bullshit. I'm tired of being pushed around. I am so tired... I just want to sleep. I want to sleep for 5 years. I want to sleep for 5 years and wake up to a whole new different world. Trump won't be president. I will no longer be a fuck-up. Music will sound good again, no more pop-tarts shaking their nakedness at me making me feel inadequate. Music will make us feel again. Music will make me feel again. And I'll open my eyes, smile and sing a sweet song. I'll be whole again. I'll be the person I was before. I so want to be me again...