(via newh0rizon)
Make You Smile - +44
Living in the past in unhealthy. Yet here I am.
Alright. Pause.
I’d like to state that yes, I am completely fine with being alone, because I am safe when I’m alone. But I really need to admit something: I miss a sleeping partner.
For real. I am sick of laying in this bed with my thoughts by myself. I need to speak them to someone. I need to know they are being heard. I need to have someone absorb them so I can live a little lighter.
Instead, night after night I sleep with a fully saturated mind of ideas, mysteries, thoughts, memories, and such. It’s weighing me down.
Sure I write blogs, but what do blogs really do? I’m talking to a computer screen. I’m not physically around another individual. I’m not feeling their eyes watch my lips move as I talk. I’m not comforted by their hand grasping mine as we hit a sensitive subject of my life.
One of my favorite things about having mindless flings with guy friends was that I felt so close to them. I felt like I could tell them anything. They wouldn’t just be a person whom my heart had a passion for but they would also be a trusted companion to lay down my life to. A person who actually cared. Even if it was just for a few short years and then they leave with their new found lives of girlfriends and wives and children.
Types of guys like that seemed to have disappeared from my life. Maybe because no one cares like they used to or maybe because I don’t want new ones, I want my old ones. The ones I trusted. The few that I grew up with that heard every pain and every happy note my voice could hit.
Expressing my ideas and passions, my pain and sorrows and then falling asleep in their arms. No sex. Some kissing. Lots of hand holding. Just a great, warm, amazing feeling that I got so lost in because it was comfortable. Something so opposite compared to the life I’m living. No hand to hold that cares. No warm body to hold on to while I sleep. No eyes that seem to be addicted to my own. Just me. Staring at my blog or staring at my ceiling. Waiting for that slow coming sleep that I just crave more than water when I’m dehydrated.
There were so few guys that I gave my trust to. And I understand they didn’t want to play my game of “unseriousness” and “just a thing”. And they found their wives and girlfriends. And their girlfriends and wives didn’t like them talking to me. Be it feeling “threatened” or not, I realize I can no longer be that kind of part of their lives anymore due to their commitments. I just wish I never had to move forward in time. I just wish I could have stayed right there. That night. Of just curled up. Subdewed to my own thoughts. Totally light feeling from a full 5 hours of spewing out my entire thought process on life, love, marriage, happiness, care free living, and what I wanted to do when I grew up.
Their support was never ending. Their eyes were so full of life and understanding. I got lost every time our pupils met.
I miss that so much.
Conversations. Hand holding. Exchanging of secrets. Kissing like it was all that mattered. Feeling trusted and trusted them. Falling asleep right where I knew I belonged.
Now I’m a void. I’m a lost soul. I am alone and meant to be alone. Did I curse myself? Did I go too long of abusing these hearts that wanted nothing more than to just make me theirs? Did telling them I just wanted to stay the way we were cause me to perminantly alter my future? Did I sign a death sentence with Karma because I just couldn’t stand the idea of a failed relationship like my parents so I just winged it for too long?
All these questions. All these shakey questions. I have no human body here to tell me that I’m thinking too much; like they always used to do for me. No person here to grab my face, force eye contact, reinforce their care with a kiss, and assure me that I am going to be okay. Instead it’s just me. I have to control this monster that’s living inside me. I am the master of this beast but I am losing the battle every time the sun goes down.
Will I ever be alright again?
It’s all up to me, I just wish I had some old friends to reassure me of who I am, who they know I am; to tell me that I’ve got everything under control, I’m just panicking like I do.
Why can’t you just make my phone ring one time more.
The life.
I set out tonight to write a very deep, thought through blog tonight/this morning, but to be quite honest my eyes are so heavy, so fucking heavy, that I don’t know how well I’m going to do.
I’ve been on a poetry rampage lately. I don’t post much of that stuff on here, mostly just on my Facebook notes because that’s where most of my collection is since whenever I joined Facebook. But seriously, after a few months of intense poetry writers block its like all my backed up words are spewing out of my finger tips with intense velocity. And I love it.
It’s so freeing, so liberating. I just cannot describe to you how fascinating writing and words are to me. Ever since 8th grade when I first picked up that damn pencil and wrote that 9/11 poem, it’s been a coast down hill ever since. After that I started writing my own poems for forensics. I was stunned to see how easy rhyming came out of me.
When rhyming was all well and good but then I wanted to start some abstract stuff. Some that doesn’t rhyme. Oh my gosh it was like discovering a new favorite kind of food. I’m mostly back to a more popular form of poetry, rhyming and such, but abstract is still 110% there.
See, people tend to take my writing too literally sometimes. And thats the thing with writing, you’re not supposed to take it literally. When you read a poem or song lyrics you’re supposed to depict them completely different than the obvious. There are a million thing that the artist could be trying to portray. Kind of like when a painter is painting an abstract painting. It could just be swirls and dots, but to someone it could foreshadow pain, guidance, wisdom, or strength.
Writing is my thing. It’s what I do. And it breathes my soul in and out because it’s what makes sense to me. If you think about it, the whole world is one giant poem. It’s topic after topic, verb after verb, adjectives and nouns floating around everywhere just waiting to be found and published.
My ideas itch for new things to write about but sometimes there is just so much it’s hard to choose!
In this crazy world, find something that you love. Find something that defines you. And don’t let anyone take it from you. Because it’s what you love and it’s part of what makes up who you are.
