08/30/2007
christina
i woke up today still in love with you.
i picture your face and and smile. another day.
but all at once i am met with the familiar signs of devastation.
first i taste cigarettes. that can't be right- i quit smoking months ago. i roll over and wince in pain. my hand. my god, my hand. two of the knuckles are brown and blue; the skin is broken. that's right. i punched the wall. and this headache... i've been crying. my stomach cramps and suddenly i taste vomit again. i see the empty beer cans, but know their contents were not enough to make me ill. then i remember- i threw up before drinking. right after i hung up the phone.
all of these realizations take place in less than a second.
your face is still in my mind. my smile fades.
it only happened yesterday. my body is not yet trained to wake up hating you.
the sun isn't even up yet. i look at my phone under the pretense of checking the time, but secretly i am hoping for a message or missed call. any sign that perhaps you're rethinking this.
6:56 AM.
i have only been asleep for two hours. naturally, i couldn't put my mind to rest last night. the memory of yesterday assures me i am awake for the day.
i sit up and try to face my new reality.
i stumble into the bathroom and flip on the light, where my reflection in the mirror catches my eye.
jesus. i would leave me too.
suddenly i remember why i tried to once before.
i know this person i see very well. this ghost, rather. i blink and when i open my eyes i see a familiar image- an image permanently burned into my mind that i desperately wish i could forget. the wounded ghost, bloody knife in hand.
suddenly the scars burn. i close my eyes and try to forget.
as vivid as if it were happening right now, i see us in my bed. one of the only times i ever felt safe there. there you are, staring deeply into my eyes. searching my very core. you take one hand. without ever breaking our gaze, you begin to kiss the scar.
i almost forget to breathe.
you move slowly along the scar. still looking straight into me, you take my other hand and continue. you close your eyes and shudder. i know you are imagining the pain- both the emotional pain that would bring someone to do that, as well as the physical pain the act itself caused. in doing so, you are trying to take some of my burden and make it your own.
it was in that moment that i fell in love with you.
i open my eyes and return to the horrifying present.
the scars continue to burn.
i am sick again.
staring into the toilet watching the life pour out of me, i try to convince myself that i'm not that ghost anymore, that i'm stronger than that. but for the first time in months, i have my doubts. not enough to act on, but their vague presence alone terrifies me.
that's how it always starts, isn't it?
knowing that even a fraction of that part of me lives on... it's just another battle i will have to fight in a war that i thought was over.
and this time, i'll have to fight it without you.
without you. it still sounds so foreign.
i sit back and think about this new concept. my entire future just changed. or disappeared? it's difficult to tell at this point.
it would make sense. after all, you were the one to give me back my future. i guess that entitles you to take it away as well.
no. no, that's not me anymore. i've changed. i'm better now.
i have to believe that.
i am ill yet again. this time, there's nothing left in my body to lose.
i hate dry-heaving.
i need a stiff drink.
i ransack the kitchen. there is nothing. coffee and a cigarette (or three) will have to do.
i step out to smoke. the sun is up now, and it looks to be a gorgeous day. this upsets me, so i change my reality.
keep staring into space. keep smoking. close my eyes and concentrate. open them.
there we go. now i see rain. lightning. i can almost hear thunder.
i can only delude myself for so long though. eventually i see the sunshine again.
i am disgusted. i walk back inside.
memories continue to surface. i swear i keep seeing you out of the corner of my eye. but every time i turn, you're not there.
i cannot handle this. i collapse to the floor and curl up. i don't know how long i stay there- it is somehow both a flash and an eternity.
i finally stand up, but leave my heart there on the ground. it hurts too much to keep it with me, because- all things considered- it still belongs to you.
and so i rise a shell of who i was.
the ghost has returned.
Friday, August 31, 2007
strength or stupidity
08/01/2007
christina
i am certain i have never grasped anything as tightly as these armrests.
as we taxi to the runway, the tears begin to flow freely... uncontrollably.
my mind is racing. i find myself overwhelmed by thoughts of you. images from this last week are flashing before me- how the corners of your mouth always raised just before you laughed, the way you looked on your skateboard as you glanced back to wink at me (and how it made me blush and lose my concentration every time), how you studied my face intently as if to remember exactly where every freckle is located... and most of all, the times you gazed into my eyes, leaving me feeling completely exposed.
suddenly i am jerked back into my disappointing reality.
the plane is picking up speed. every muscle in my body is tightened. my teeth are clenched so hard i have a headache, my knuckles are white from clutching the armrests, and the tears continue to pour down my face. i am breathing in large gasps.
the stewardess takes notice of me. she walks over, rubs my shoulder, and her previously harsh face softens with concern. in a soothing voice, she says, "oh, honey. just breathe. everything will be fine. can i do anything to help?"
i bitterly think, "lady, nothing you could possibly do would ease my mind."
i quickly admonish myself for responding to kindness with anger. unable to muster the strength to speak, i simply shake my head and look away.
the plane leaves the ground. i am now beyond crying; my entire body is shaken with sobs. i am getting sideways glances from the other nearby passengers. i have no desire to make a scene, but i am also entirely unable to regain composure.
the stewardess has seen this before. panic attacks during take-off are not so uncommon for her to witness.
the truth is i have no fear of flying. i have taken far more than my fair share of plane rides for my age, and am well-acquainted with every change in pressure, direction, and acceleration.
but this is no ordinary flight.
this is the plane that is taking me away from you.
an hour and a half earlier, you dropped me off at the airport. our goodbye was rushed; this, of course, was my fault. anyone who has ever seen me pack for anything would expect this. our short embrace, however, was more than enough time for tears to gather in my eyes. you kissed me one last time and told me not to cry, that we'd see each other again.
i know that you are right. but eight months seems unbearably long. i have no doubt that you are worth the wait, but i can't help but wonder- are they?
for the second time in my life they dragged me across the country against my will. it made sense the first time. i was younger then. and yet now at 20 years old, they still aren't allowing me to make my own choices.
i tried to communicate that i've changed, that i wouldn't be happy there. she said it wouldn't be that different... unless i was hiding something. as if she already knew.
he passively apologized. i know he doesn't prefer to live there either, which is exactly why he should have stood up for me.
i don't know if i'll ever forgive them.
these are the thoughts that filled my head as you watched me go a second time.
as i waited at the gate, i found myself needing to hear your voice.
our conversation was brief, but it was plenty long enough to reinforce my gut feeling that this was a horrible mistake.
they made the call to board the plane. suddenly i found myself paralyzed. i realized that it wasn't too late- i could still run out, hail a cab, and be back in your arms in a matter of minutes.
i began to think this through. regal is hiring. a friend of mine needs a roommate. i haven't even been accepted to school yet. and it's not like i'd be leaving a car there, as mine died on the drive back six weeks ago.
this is where i hit a brick wall- i already signed that damn lease. could i find a way to back out? i can't imagine being there for an entire year.
then there's my family. if i stay it will come across as a huge "fuck you." of course that is the last thing i would intend, but that doesn't mean anything. the truth is simply that i'm just trying to be happy, and that isn't going to happen in oklahoma. why is that so hard to understand?
but i know my parents. trying to explain that would be like reasoning with a wall.
i don't know if they'd ever forgive me.
they make the final boarding call. i'm not sure if it's strength or stupidity that carries me onto the walkway, but with every step i feel everything inside me screaming to turn and run. but i feel trapped. as if my hands and feet were bound and i had a guard on each side escorting me.
as if i were going to jail.
everything seems to be moving in slow motion. i hear my own heartbeat pounding. each step is increasingly heavier. i turn the corner and step onto the plane. i force myself to look up, only to find nearly everyone staring at me. every smile fades; conversations cease. am i really that obvious?
i take my seat and fasten my seatbelt.
trapped.
the stewardess closes the cabin door with a resounding thud i can feel.
locked in.
she makes the safety announcements. i don't hear a word.
all at once i am crying.
i am certain i have never grasped anything as tightly as these armrests.
once again obligation has outweighed happiness. duty has overshadowed desire.
if you're keeping track, mark down another defeat for my heart.
we fly almost directly over your house. i wonder if you sense my presence, if you feel my silent screams.
we continue to move east. every landmark i recognize reinforces that i am moving away from you. first the marketplace. the roof of the theatre. natomas high school. old sacramento.
these places all hold memories.
we move on to places that don't.
highway 50. business 80. carmichael. roseville. to the south i see folsom lake. the foothills. the sierra nevada.
clouds are increasing. i just barely see lake tahoe.
finally i can see nothing but a white blanket.
the stewardess asks me if i feel like eating, offering me a snack.
i can't imagine hunger. i shake my head.
i am still crying.
eventually i accept that there is no way off this plane now, and begin to relax my muscles.
the tears don't stop though. they don't stop for hours.
i am exhausted.
suddenly i sit up straight and open my eyes.
they are dry, but still feeling the effects of extended crying.
i have been asleep.
judging by the time, i slept no more than twenty minutes.
i ask the stewardess for a black coffee and stare out the window for the remainder of the flight.
my feelings of hopelessness grow stronger as we descend.
we land. i call you as soon as the plane stops. you describe your own experience as you drove away.
it somehow breaks my heart even more.
we know we will see each other again... but that doesn't make this any easier.
they finally open the cabin door.
i hang up the phone.
i walk forward. down the aisle. turn the corner. down the stairs.
into prison.
i look to the west and whisper.
goodbye, love.
may time pass quickly.
i don't know if i'll ever forgive myself.
beautiful trainwreck
03/24/2007
sarah
we are a beautiful trainwreck, you and i.
allow me to explain. the beauty of any tragedy is derived from that moment where the upcoming events are foreseen and recognized as unchangeable. it's as if the circumstances were so perfectly calculated with such little room for variables that no matter what course you take, the ultimate ending will be eerily similar to the outcome inaction would yield.
it is the murder of tybalt. it is the spotting of the iceberg from the titanic. it is the moment a conductor discovers that less than a mile away another train is barreling towards his own. it is the single instant when you realize it- you're fucked.
it is the sudden understanding that i am falling in love with you. i, who want nothing more than to hold your hand through your troubles to show you they are mine as well, to embrace you through the night so that you (for once in your life) may feel safe. i am falling in love with you, who want only one thing more than all that- invulnerability.
and so i am doomed to stay the course encouraged by your hints of an emotion you could never express, only to be ultimately rejected when all is said and done. having been driven by the futile hope that just maybe you would give in to your feelings, this heartbreak will be especially devastating. we will part ways consumed by awkward confusion, incapable of explaining to anyone why exactly whatever we had came to an end... or to an earth-shattering crash, as the case may be.
you see, our story has already been written. anyone can see the conclusion. as we fall deeper into love and insecurity, it will become increasingly clear that we cannot prevent it, yet we'll find ourselves mysteriously unable to bail. there's nothing to do but wait for the trains to collide.
and to hope that we survive it.
sarah
we are a beautiful trainwreck, you and i.
allow me to explain. the beauty of any tragedy is derived from that moment where the upcoming events are foreseen and recognized as unchangeable. it's as if the circumstances were so perfectly calculated with such little room for variables that no matter what course you take, the ultimate ending will be eerily similar to the outcome inaction would yield.
it is the murder of tybalt. it is the spotting of the iceberg from the titanic. it is the moment a conductor discovers that less than a mile away another train is barreling towards his own. it is the single instant when you realize it- you're fucked.
it is the sudden understanding that i am falling in love with you. i, who want nothing more than to hold your hand through your troubles to show you they are mine as well, to embrace you through the night so that you (for once in your life) may feel safe. i am falling in love with you, who want only one thing more than all that- invulnerability.
and so i am doomed to stay the course encouraged by your hints of an emotion you could never express, only to be ultimately rejected when all is said and done. having been driven by the futile hope that just maybe you would give in to your feelings, this heartbreak will be especially devastating. we will part ways consumed by awkward confusion, incapable of explaining to anyone why exactly whatever we had came to an end... or to an earth-shattering crash, as the case may be.
you see, our story has already been written. anyone can see the conclusion. as we fall deeper into love and insecurity, it will become increasingly clear that we cannot prevent it, yet we'll find ourselves mysteriously unable to bail. there's nothing to do but wait for the trains to collide.
and to hope that we survive it.
new ways to fall
02/27/2007
tiffany
with new hopes come new ways to fall.
you finally answered the phone. you e-mailed to say you'd left him, that you two were finally done. i called almost immediately.
you didn't answer until the third time i tried, but you finally did. and that's all that matters, isn't it? it's so typical, me waiting on you. i realize that i ran away first, but i've been waiting for you ever since.
now that i finally have another chance, i find myself surprisingly unsure of all this. maybe it's just an instinct to protect myself- i mean, you've hurt me so badly before. i don't know that i could survive it again.
but then again, i don't know that i could survive passing up this opportunity.
so i stand here alone and confused about you, scared to make any move at all. also typical of us.
let's say we give ourselves another chance. what if it doesn't work out? at least i would know for sure, and i would have more real memories of us rather than just the idea of us. but then i would feel like the last year and a half have been a complete waste of time.
i guess what scares me most is that it might work. then everything changes. i've been this dark, bitter person for so long now that i can't remember how to be anything else... but if you're what pushed me over the edge, then maybe you're the only thing that can bring me back.
i stand here will all these questions, wondering if you have any of your own. you did say you wonder if just dating me in the first place would've been easier. but what does that even mean? easier as in better for you in the long run, or just... easier?
i'm not sure i want to know the answer.
tiffany
with new hopes come new ways to fall.
you finally answered the phone. you e-mailed to say you'd left him, that you two were finally done. i called almost immediately.
you didn't answer until the third time i tried, but you finally did. and that's all that matters, isn't it? it's so typical, me waiting on you. i realize that i ran away first, but i've been waiting for you ever since.
now that i finally have another chance, i find myself surprisingly unsure of all this. maybe it's just an instinct to protect myself- i mean, you've hurt me so badly before. i don't know that i could survive it again.
but then again, i don't know that i could survive passing up this opportunity.
so i stand here alone and confused about you, scared to make any move at all. also typical of us.
let's say we give ourselves another chance. what if it doesn't work out? at least i would know for sure, and i would have more real memories of us rather than just the idea of us. but then i would feel like the last year and a half have been a complete waste of time.
i guess what scares me most is that it might work. then everything changes. i've been this dark, bitter person for so long now that i can't remember how to be anything else... but if you're what pushed me over the edge, then maybe you're the only thing that can bring me back.
i stand here will all these questions, wondering if you have any of your own. you did say you wonder if just dating me in the first place would've been easier. but what does that even mean? easier as in better for you in the long run, or just... easier?
i'm not sure i want to know the answer.
incomplete
01/28/2007
tiffany
i'm sick and i'm tired.
i'm tired of leading this fucking half-life. i'm tired of pretending to be someone i'm not- of crying all the way to and from work, but pasting on a fake smile as soon as i walk through any door and posing as a productive member of society. i'm tired of not having any reason to live other than my duty to those around me. fuck duty. i've served my time. and who is paying back anything they owe? i'm always the one holding everyone's hand through every crisis they face, but grasping desperately in my own hour of need and finding nothing but empty air (or a well-intentioned incident of "slipping through their fingers").
and so i've stopped reaching out at all. pessimism, though only slightly, is less painful than trust broken. all the same, it's a life not worth living. so i stare at the boxcutter, at the booze in my fridge, at all the pills in my cabinet, at any amount of water sufficient to drown me, at any drop large enough to kill- at anything i see that could conceivably end my life- and i wonder. what would it be like? what would it be like to feel (or not feel) anything other than this? i can't say that i know what is on "the other side" for sure, but i am ready for any change.
but most of all- what would it be like to be understood?
suicide could, potentially, confuse everyone even more. but a well-written note would help with that (who am i kidding? i would have to write a whole fucking novel to try to explain why this is my best option). i've never quite found the right words to describe just how unable i am to deal with everything, how strong i only pretend to be... and you know what they say:
actions speak louder than words.
but i digress.
i've resigned myself to the fact that i won't ever know the answers to my questions. the one person who should understand most has condemned me to rot in this hell alone. what else can i call it but rotting? everytime i hurt myself another part of me dies.
and yet i continue playing my part. i am the biggest deceiver i know- but truth proves the beauty of deception. in fact, i've excelled so much at lying, i can't even always tell when i'm lying to myself anymore. still, it's a remedy that grows weaker with every use- and is quickly becoming too little to convince me to carry on.
so the guilt, the shame, the desperation, the unheard screams, the unseen tears, and the unknown scars are all that remain.
the truth is, i'm already dead. i've been gone for far longer than even i can wrap my head around. i still breathe, i still hear, i still feel, i still write, but only as a shadow of the person i used to be.
and so my death remains incomplete.
i remain incomplete.
tiffany
i'm sick and i'm tired.
i'm tired of leading this fucking half-life. i'm tired of pretending to be someone i'm not- of crying all the way to and from work, but pasting on a fake smile as soon as i walk through any door and posing as a productive member of society. i'm tired of not having any reason to live other than my duty to those around me. fuck duty. i've served my time. and who is paying back anything they owe? i'm always the one holding everyone's hand through every crisis they face, but grasping desperately in my own hour of need and finding nothing but empty air (or a well-intentioned incident of "slipping through their fingers").
and so i've stopped reaching out at all. pessimism, though only slightly, is less painful than trust broken. all the same, it's a life not worth living. so i stare at the boxcutter, at the booze in my fridge, at all the pills in my cabinet, at any amount of water sufficient to drown me, at any drop large enough to kill- at anything i see that could conceivably end my life- and i wonder. what would it be like? what would it be like to feel (or not feel) anything other than this? i can't say that i know what is on "the other side" for sure, but i am ready for any change.
but most of all- what would it be like to be understood?
suicide could, potentially, confuse everyone even more. but a well-written note would help with that (who am i kidding? i would have to write a whole fucking novel to try to explain why this is my best option). i've never quite found the right words to describe just how unable i am to deal with everything, how strong i only pretend to be... and you know what they say:
actions speak louder than words.
but i digress.
i've resigned myself to the fact that i won't ever know the answers to my questions. the one person who should understand most has condemned me to rot in this hell alone. what else can i call it but rotting? everytime i hurt myself another part of me dies.
and yet i continue playing my part. i am the biggest deceiver i know- but truth proves the beauty of deception. in fact, i've excelled so much at lying, i can't even always tell when i'm lying to myself anymore. still, it's a remedy that grows weaker with every use- and is quickly becoming too little to convince me to carry on.
so the guilt, the shame, the desperation, the unheard screams, the unseen tears, and the unknown scars are all that remain.
the truth is, i'm already dead. i've been gone for far longer than even i can wrap my head around. i still breathe, i still hear, i still feel, i still write, but only as a shadow of the person i used to be.
and so my death remains incomplete.
i remain incomplete.
the surface
11/29/2006
tiffany
you didn't answer the phone.
i know what you're going to say. i know how you're going to say it. i know it's over. but i have to hear it from you to believe it.
you didn't answer the phone.
and now i've drowned you in rum and cigarettes, pushing you ever deeper below the surface. holding you there as long as i can stand the burn. knowing you will fight your way back. somehow you are stronger than i- you, who claimed i made you safe. you are the more resilient between us; you always return.
you didn't answer the phone.
i hate you for it. this internal struggle created by my intense love and detest for you is tiring me out, wearing me thin. you grow ever stronger.
why won't you die? why can't i keep you there, under the surface, not allowing you a single breath? why can't i stomach a lesser burn to be rid of the one you cause? the answer, of course, is in your eyes. i look down and i see your eyes- that single unmistakable pair that signaled both the beginning and ending of my life- and i become weak... weak from the guilt, the shame, the memories... from everything that is you.
and i let go.
i close my eyes and clasp my hands over my ears, only to see your gaze as it was that night and hear a rush of voices ranging from whispers to screams- all saying, "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."
this isn't a life.
this is a never-ending death.
we cannot both survive this. one must perish.
and there you are at the surface, staring at me, reminding me without a single word that you are stronger.
tiffany
you didn't answer the phone.
i know what you're going to say. i know how you're going to say it. i know it's over. but i have to hear it from you to believe it.
you didn't answer the phone.
and now i've drowned you in rum and cigarettes, pushing you ever deeper below the surface. holding you there as long as i can stand the burn. knowing you will fight your way back. somehow you are stronger than i- you, who claimed i made you safe. you are the more resilient between us; you always return.
you didn't answer the phone.
i hate you for it. this internal struggle created by my intense love and detest for you is tiring me out, wearing me thin. you grow ever stronger.
why won't you die? why can't i keep you there, under the surface, not allowing you a single breath? why can't i stomach a lesser burn to be rid of the one you cause? the answer, of course, is in your eyes. i look down and i see your eyes- that single unmistakable pair that signaled both the beginning and ending of my life- and i become weak... weak from the guilt, the shame, the memories... from everything that is you.
and i let go.
i close my eyes and clasp my hands over my ears, only to see your gaze as it was that night and hear a rush of voices ranging from whispers to screams- all saying, "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."
this isn't a life.
this is a never-ending death.
we cannot both survive this. one must perish.
and there you are at the surface, staring at me, reminding me without a single word that you are stronger.
losing her
07/20/2006
sarah
what do you do when your only possible course of action will hurt someone you love?
i'm not one to use the word "love" lightly. in today's society it is thrown around so easily that to many, it loses its value. but love isn't something you see on tv or at the movies. it's not what you hear in a song. instead, love is the ultimate commitment to someone, be it platonic or romantic. i generally define love by the willingness to do anything, even to give one's life, for the person in question.
love is what we are supposed to evaluate our lives by.
what love really is, what she really is... she is freedom. the freedom to be who i am without being judged.
she has a habit of not getting attached to anyone, of being able to get over people in a heart beat. a somewhat ironic choice of measurement, since at first i believed she had no heart at all. but right from the beginning, we got something about each other that no one else understood. and so, we overcame our other [many] differences because that one bit of common ground was so rare to find.
she kept it casual at first. being from the south, i tend to look for stronger relationships. but i knew i couldn't push her. it was clear from the start that things would be on her terms.
i loved and hated that about her.
time passed. we had somewhat discussed moving in together. i was fed up with living with my parents (cheap though it may be). i'm in college, for christ's sake. my friends were off having the time of their lives, while i was still stuck in a home where i had to account for my whereabouts and was expected to go to church every sunday morning. she was coming from a particularly bad situation with extremely controlling parents. i assumed it was more a decision of necessity than anything else.
let it be known that i have a shitty job. not quite minimum wage, but not far above. juggling car payment, tuition, books, and gas, i'm usually broke. she has always had a better job and fewer expenses. so as we started to go out more, she began to pay fairly regularly. this annoyed me, but logically she was right. she could afford it; i couldn't.
she never expected me to pay her back.
suddenly, as is classic of me, i panicked. i've had some bad experiences with people in the past. as a result, usually somewhere in the beginning of any new relationship, i get scared and try to run away. this is how both of my last two romantic relationships ended. commitment issues? you might say. so all this talk of moving in together and her always footing the bill scared the shit out of me.
i told her what was going on, that everything in me said to run. but i told her that i was going to stay no matter what. and i did. it was one of the hardest things i've ever done, but i did.
the only problem now was that i still felt i needed her, while she just kept me around for entertainment. every day i feared a heartbreak.
a couple of weeks ago, i made the mistake of leaving my notebook unattended. i found her reading something i had just written about her. it highlighted my apprehension of needing, but only being wanted. one line was "and now you are my one absolute fear."
she called that completely unfair.
we talked things out. first, she asked if i was committed to moving out with her. i said, "yes, i want out of the house." she said, "no. i didn't ask if you were committed to just moving out. i asked if you were committed to moving out with me." i said yes, and with everything in me i believed i was. she then turned around and said she was sorry she couldn't express emotions very well, but that she did love me. she did. this completely shocked me. she doesn't even say that to her own mother.
i confessed my fears of her just "being over" me one day. she said the only way that would happen is if i were to completely betray her.
fast-forward to a few days ago. the army and my father just cut a deal. they're transferring him back to where we're from. my parents are finally going home. home to where my sister lives. home to where my cousin (my best friend for years) lives.
they asked if i was planning to go with them.
i said no. i made a promise to her. i didn't tell them that. i claimed i would miss california too much, that i wasn't ready to go home, that i wanted to go to school out here. but the reality of it was that i was too afraid to betray her. i had been trying so hard to teach her how to love, but i know she's not fully there yet. if i walk away, it will be the end.
the problem is, there is no way i can afford rent, car insurance, health insurance, groceries, AND tuition.
if i go back, i can get immediate residency as my parents' dependent and pay dirt cheap tuition (which loans should cover) at a state school. my parents could afford to help out with school costs there as well, since the cost of living is so much cheaper.
if i stay here, i'm giving up my education. i'm giving up the life i want to lead.
but i promised. and i love her.
this is the one betrayal we wouldn't recover from.
if i go back, i'll have extended family on every side waiting to pick me back up if i fall. and judging by my past, i will fall. the difference between family and friends is that the former is spurred on by obligation. so even if they don't feel like helping that day, they will.
if i stay here, i'm basically forsaking that family. i'm shouting "fuck you, i don't need you for anything" to the people that have always been there for me.
but i promised. and i love her.
she would be "over" me just like that, just like i've always feared.
if i go back, i can finally try to get my life back on track. having suffered illness after illness and personal tragedies along the way, i've somewhat taken a back seat in my own life. i'm in a stagnant period.
if i stay here, i'm postponing my entire life for another 1, 2, 3, or however many years we live together. and the longer i wait, the harder it will be to go back.
but i promised. and i love her.
i don't know what i'd do without her.
i'm getting sick and tired of all this bohemian talk of love conquering all. sometimes it just doesn't, no matter how much you wish it could.
so i am left with basically no choice but to move back. backing out from the commitment i made, from the only promise she's ever believed in. even the thought breaks me.
i thought it was scary when she didn't need me. now i find myself petrified that she does.
this brings me to now, as i look at my list of pro's and con's for moving back. there are so many benefits. it seems to be the logical choice. but i forget all of them when i see the single entry under con's:
"losing her."
sarah
what do you do when your only possible course of action will hurt someone you love?
i'm not one to use the word "love" lightly. in today's society it is thrown around so easily that to many, it loses its value. but love isn't something you see on tv or at the movies. it's not what you hear in a song. instead, love is the ultimate commitment to someone, be it platonic or romantic. i generally define love by the willingness to do anything, even to give one's life, for the person in question.
love is what we are supposed to evaluate our lives by.
what love really is, what she really is... she is freedom. the freedom to be who i am without being judged.
she has a habit of not getting attached to anyone, of being able to get over people in a heart beat. a somewhat ironic choice of measurement, since at first i believed she had no heart at all. but right from the beginning, we got something about each other that no one else understood. and so, we overcame our other [many] differences because that one bit of common ground was so rare to find.
she kept it casual at first. being from the south, i tend to look for stronger relationships. but i knew i couldn't push her. it was clear from the start that things would be on her terms.
i loved and hated that about her.
time passed. we had somewhat discussed moving in together. i was fed up with living with my parents (cheap though it may be). i'm in college, for christ's sake. my friends were off having the time of their lives, while i was still stuck in a home where i had to account for my whereabouts and was expected to go to church every sunday morning. she was coming from a particularly bad situation with extremely controlling parents. i assumed it was more a decision of necessity than anything else.
let it be known that i have a shitty job. not quite minimum wage, but not far above. juggling car payment, tuition, books, and gas, i'm usually broke. she has always had a better job and fewer expenses. so as we started to go out more, she began to pay fairly regularly. this annoyed me, but logically she was right. she could afford it; i couldn't.
she never expected me to pay her back.
suddenly, as is classic of me, i panicked. i've had some bad experiences with people in the past. as a result, usually somewhere in the beginning of any new relationship, i get scared and try to run away. this is how both of my last two romantic relationships ended. commitment issues? you might say. so all this talk of moving in together and her always footing the bill scared the shit out of me.
i told her what was going on, that everything in me said to run. but i told her that i was going to stay no matter what. and i did. it was one of the hardest things i've ever done, but i did.
the only problem now was that i still felt i needed her, while she just kept me around for entertainment. every day i feared a heartbreak.
a couple of weeks ago, i made the mistake of leaving my notebook unattended. i found her reading something i had just written about her. it highlighted my apprehension of needing, but only being wanted. one line was "and now you are my one absolute fear."
she called that completely unfair.
we talked things out. first, she asked if i was committed to moving out with her. i said, "yes, i want out of the house." she said, "no. i didn't ask if you were committed to just moving out. i asked if you were committed to moving out with me." i said yes, and with everything in me i believed i was. she then turned around and said she was sorry she couldn't express emotions very well, but that she did love me. she did. this completely shocked me. she doesn't even say that to her own mother.
i confessed my fears of her just "being over" me one day. she said the only way that would happen is if i were to completely betray her.
fast-forward to a few days ago. the army and my father just cut a deal. they're transferring him back to where we're from. my parents are finally going home. home to where my sister lives. home to where my cousin (my best friend for years) lives.
they asked if i was planning to go with them.
i said no. i made a promise to her. i didn't tell them that. i claimed i would miss california too much, that i wasn't ready to go home, that i wanted to go to school out here. but the reality of it was that i was too afraid to betray her. i had been trying so hard to teach her how to love, but i know she's not fully there yet. if i walk away, it will be the end.
the problem is, there is no way i can afford rent, car insurance, health insurance, groceries, AND tuition.
if i go back, i can get immediate residency as my parents' dependent and pay dirt cheap tuition (which loans should cover) at a state school. my parents could afford to help out with school costs there as well, since the cost of living is so much cheaper.
if i stay here, i'm giving up my education. i'm giving up the life i want to lead.
but i promised. and i love her.
this is the one betrayal we wouldn't recover from.
if i go back, i'll have extended family on every side waiting to pick me back up if i fall. and judging by my past, i will fall. the difference between family and friends is that the former is spurred on by obligation. so even if they don't feel like helping that day, they will.
if i stay here, i'm basically forsaking that family. i'm shouting "fuck you, i don't need you for anything" to the people that have always been there for me.
but i promised. and i love her.
she would be "over" me just like that, just like i've always feared.
if i go back, i can finally try to get my life back on track. having suffered illness after illness and personal tragedies along the way, i've somewhat taken a back seat in my own life. i'm in a stagnant period.
if i stay here, i'm postponing my entire life for another 1, 2, 3, or however many years we live together. and the longer i wait, the harder it will be to go back.
but i promised. and i love her.
i don't know what i'd do without her.
i'm getting sick and tired of all this bohemian talk of love conquering all. sometimes it just doesn't, no matter how much you wish it could.
so i am left with basically no choice but to move back. backing out from the commitment i made, from the only promise she's ever believed in. even the thought breaks me.
i thought it was scary when she didn't need me. now i find myself petrified that she does.
this brings me to now, as i look at my list of pro's and con's for moving back. there are so many benefits. it seems to be the logical choice. but i forget all of them when i see the single entry under con's:
"losing her."
my only way
12/12/2005
tiffany/kelby
i sit in the park.
it is late and it is winter. all signs of life are quickly fading. the cars driving by grow ever fewer, the christmas lights on the nearby houses go off one by one. i shiver.
i sit in the park.
i smoke a cigarette. i watch as i slowly release my smoke to the sky, to the almost-full moon above. that is not the only thing i will give up to whatever or whoever is there tonight.
i sit in the park.
i see sprinklers come on across the field. this strikes me as absurd. it is damn near freezing in the middle of the night, the fog is rolling in, and the goddamn sprinklers are on. i swear this shit only happens in california. i bet they don't have sprinklers in december at 2 a.m. where they are. but i cannot change the sprinklers. i let them be.
i sit in the park.
i think of her. her with the blue eyes with hazel spots. her that i wish i could forget. her that sealed my fate. i wonder if somewhere in her beautiful dreams she knows that i'm thinking of her. i wish i could trade just one of her dreams for just one of my nightmares.
i wish i could see her again.
i sit in the park.
the sprinklers come closer. they torment me, as if their sole purpose in creation was to taunt me on this cold night. i comtemplate leaving. no, i will not run. i always run in my nightmares. i am tired of running. i cannot change the sprinklers. i let them be.
i sit in the park.
it is growing colder.
i think of him. him with the tender heart. him that i wish could forget me. it is colder where he is; snow covers the ground. i know because he told me so just today. just before he told me he loved me. just before i said the same. he can't wait for me to come back. i could never break his heart. i love him too much.
i sit in the park.
a plane flies overhead, a plane that could take me to him or to her. it would be my choice. but i could only choose one.
i smoke another cigarette. i wonder if it's possible to fall in love with more than one person. i cough. i don't know if it's the cigarette or the cold, but i don't care. i take my last drag. i have come too close to the filter and it burns my mouth. it burns and i let it burn because i deserve it. as i smother the dying spark of my cigarette i wish it were my life i was putting out. neither he nor she deserve the plague of my existence in their lives. no one i know deserves that. i wish with everything in me it were my life i was putting out.
i sit in the park.
i am now surrounded by fog and i can no longer feel my toes. i cannot feel a thing. i am not happy about the fog; i am not happy about anything anymore. but i am relieved at its arrival as i now know i cannot be seen. i don't want to be seen because i know i won't be understood.
nearly two hours have passed since i came to the park. there are no more lights. there are no more cars. just me, the moon, the fog, and the sprinklers.
i shiver.
i sit in the park.
i feel my heart slow. i know i am inadequately clothed and that if i sit here for another two hours that heart will stop. the thought is tempting.
but then the sprinklers again move closer and i feel my heart rate increase. i will not run. i will stay and i will face them. i want so badly to face them.
i want to explain to him and her about the other and make them understand that i can no longer choose both. a decision must be made. i don't think i can choose. i wish they could both forget me.
i fight tears. like most battles i fight, i lose.
i sit in the park.
i sit in the park thinking and wishing and shivering and crying at 4 a.m. when it finally happens. the sprinklers reach me. i will not run I WILL NOT RUN.
i run. i run and i hate myself for it. any rational person would run. but i know that i am not rational and i know that i am not sane and right here right now in this park on this night running is the wrong thing to do and i fucking hate myself for it. i fucking hate myself.
i am standing in the road.
out of the fog and totally exposed. i am breathing hard and i can see my breath. i want it to stop.
i hear a car wreck in the distance and i have empathy for the car.
suddenly the realization hits me like my own car wreck- i cannot trade dreams for my nightmares because my nightmares are my reality.
i hear the sirens of an ambulance going to save whoever was in that car. there are no sirens for me. no one is coming to save me. i've just discovered that my nightmares are my reality and no one is coming to save me.
i am beyond salvation.
i walk the quarter-mile to my house. i unlock the door and walk inside. no one is coming for me, so i lock the door.
i am beyond salvation.
i kick off my shoes and lie down. i don't bother with sheets. i cannot feel a thing. i try to think of a solution as i stare at the ceiling. the ceiling does not care. the ceiling is not going to save me.
i am beyond salvation.
i know what i have to do but i don't want to admit it. i want to run. but i love them both and i know i have to face the truth. there is no other way.
there is no solution.
i am beyond salvation.
i call her first. i don't know why. it is 7:30 where she is, but she is not awake. i tell her voicemail that i'm sorry, that i love her but that i have no choice. that she was the only reason i made it as long as i did. that she should forget me and find someone that can bring her years of happiness. i'm sorry. i love you. goodbye.
there is no solution.
i am beyond salvation.
i call him next. it is 6:30 where he is, but i know he worked late and i know he is asleep. i tell his voicemail that i love him but that i had no choice. that there were things about me he didn't know, that i couldn't bear to tell him. that he should find someone with more than a broken heart to offer. i'm sorry. i love you. goodbye.
there is no solution.
i am beyond salvation.
this is the only way.
the blade slices surprisingly easily into my vein. i watch the blood run down my forearm and into the trash can. i cannot feel a thing. as i begin to fade i believe something in my death more strongly than i have ever believed anything in my life:
this is my solution.
this is my salvation.
this is my only way.
i am happy, and then i am gone.
tiffany/kelby
i sit in the park.
it is late and it is winter. all signs of life are quickly fading. the cars driving by grow ever fewer, the christmas lights on the nearby houses go off one by one. i shiver.
i sit in the park.
i smoke a cigarette. i watch as i slowly release my smoke to the sky, to the almost-full moon above. that is not the only thing i will give up to whatever or whoever is there tonight.
i sit in the park.
i see sprinklers come on across the field. this strikes me as absurd. it is damn near freezing in the middle of the night, the fog is rolling in, and the goddamn sprinklers are on. i swear this shit only happens in california. i bet they don't have sprinklers in december at 2 a.m. where they are. but i cannot change the sprinklers. i let them be.
i sit in the park.
i think of her. her with the blue eyes with hazel spots. her that i wish i could forget. her that sealed my fate. i wonder if somewhere in her beautiful dreams she knows that i'm thinking of her. i wish i could trade just one of her dreams for just one of my nightmares.
i wish i could see her again.
i sit in the park.
the sprinklers come closer. they torment me, as if their sole purpose in creation was to taunt me on this cold night. i comtemplate leaving. no, i will not run. i always run in my nightmares. i am tired of running. i cannot change the sprinklers. i let them be.
i sit in the park.
it is growing colder.
i think of him. him with the tender heart. him that i wish could forget me. it is colder where he is; snow covers the ground. i know because he told me so just today. just before he told me he loved me. just before i said the same. he can't wait for me to come back. i could never break his heart. i love him too much.
i sit in the park.
a plane flies overhead, a plane that could take me to him or to her. it would be my choice. but i could only choose one.
i smoke another cigarette. i wonder if it's possible to fall in love with more than one person. i cough. i don't know if it's the cigarette or the cold, but i don't care. i take my last drag. i have come too close to the filter and it burns my mouth. it burns and i let it burn because i deserve it. as i smother the dying spark of my cigarette i wish it were my life i was putting out. neither he nor she deserve the plague of my existence in their lives. no one i know deserves that. i wish with everything in me it were my life i was putting out.
i sit in the park.
i am now surrounded by fog and i can no longer feel my toes. i cannot feel a thing. i am not happy about the fog; i am not happy about anything anymore. but i am relieved at its arrival as i now know i cannot be seen. i don't want to be seen because i know i won't be understood.
nearly two hours have passed since i came to the park. there are no more lights. there are no more cars. just me, the moon, the fog, and the sprinklers.
i shiver.
i sit in the park.
i feel my heart slow. i know i am inadequately clothed and that if i sit here for another two hours that heart will stop. the thought is tempting.
but then the sprinklers again move closer and i feel my heart rate increase. i will not run. i will stay and i will face them. i want so badly to face them.
i want to explain to him and her about the other and make them understand that i can no longer choose both. a decision must be made. i don't think i can choose. i wish they could both forget me.
i fight tears. like most battles i fight, i lose.
i sit in the park.
i sit in the park thinking and wishing and shivering and crying at 4 a.m. when it finally happens. the sprinklers reach me. i will not run I WILL NOT RUN.
i run. i run and i hate myself for it. any rational person would run. but i know that i am not rational and i know that i am not sane and right here right now in this park on this night running is the wrong thing to do and i fucking hate myself for it. i fucking hate myself.
i am standing in the road.
out of the fog and totally exposed. i am breathing hard and i can see my breath. i want it to stop.
i hear a car wreck in the distance and i have empathy for the car.
suddenly the realization hits me like my own car wreck- i cannot trade dreams for my nightmares because my nightmares are my reality.
i hear the sirens of an ambulance going to save whoever was in that car. there are no sirens for me. no one is coming to save me. i've just discovered that my nightmares are my reality and no one is coming to save me.
i am beyond salvation.
i walk the quarter-mile to my house. i unlock the door and walk inside. no one is coming for me, so i lock the door.
i am beyond salvation.
i kick off my shoes and lie down. i don't bother with sheets. i cannot feel a thing. i try to think of a solution as i stare at the ceiling. the ceiling does not care. the ceiling is not going to save me.
i am beyond salvation.
i know what i have to do but i don't want to admit it. i want to run. but i love them both and i know i have to face the truth. there is no other way.
there is no solution.
i am beyond salvation.
i call her first. i don't know why. it is 7:30 where she is, but she is not awake. i tell her voicemail that i'm sorry, that i love her but that i have no choice. that she was the only reason i made it as long as i did. that she should forget me and find someone that can bring her years of happiness. i'm sorry. i love you. goodbye.
there is no solution.
i am beyond salvation.
i call him next. it is 6:30 where he is, but i know he worked late and i know he is asleep. i tell his voicemail that i love him but that i had no choice. that there were things about me he didn't know, that i couldn't bear to tell him. that he should find someone with more than a broken heart to offer. i'm sorry. i love you. goodbye.
there is no solution.
i am beyond salvation.
this is the only way.
the blade slices surprisingly easily into my vein. i watch the blood run down my forearm and into the trash can. i cannot feel a thing. as i begin to fade i believe something in my death more strongly than i have ever believed anything in my life:
this is my solution.
this is my salvation.
this is my only way.
i am happy, and then i am gone.
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