A new lease on my selfishness....

There's been a lot going on in my life, most of which I've vocally complained about to my loving boyfriend.  Most of which he cringes at.  I see his face twist when certain things come out of my mouth.  It's like word vomit.  I cannot control it.  Lately, however, I've realized I can.  I've got to control my mouth, and my attitude, before it destroys us.

Why am I so vile? Why is my bitterness still seeping through when right in front of me stands the man that I adore.  I still have setbacks, yes. There are still things that keep my lying awake at night, yes.  However, I know that I love this man, and that he makes me happy, despite his flaws, and certain things about him that drive me bananas.  I'm fully aware I have many flaws and ticks that make him itch, so I suppose it's equal.

But I do not want this man to look upon me for my bad.  I want him to know, understand, and accept it, yes, but I am more than that.  I am me.  I am good, and kind, and loving, and nurturing.  I have a fowl mouth, yes.  I cuss like a sailor and sometimes I drink like one too.  But that part of me has been winding down, because my body is telling me to slow down, to fall in love, to focus it's energy on caring for someone, and not pain suppression.

I want him to look at me, and smile, and his heart warms because I am there.  My negativity and the fact I have no hold on letting it loose is affecting us, it stresses him.  I need to be stronger and more positive.  I need to sometimes scream in my car instead of unload my negative thoughts and emotions on him.

Things are all up in the air.  I don't know what's going on.  I do know what is now.  Him.  He is here, and I love it, and I want to nurture it with love and happiness...

So what is all this stuff exactly going on in my life? Well my boss, the VP of my company, the man who trained me and got me ready for my career here, decided last week to tell upper management he was resigning.  I was the first to find out ... because I have been trying to transfer from engineering to HR, so that my relationship can have less of a strain on it. (Fall in love with your supervisor, not such a good thing)

I was elated, at first.  This meant that my BF was most likely going to take that position of lead engineer, and then our strain would be greater, but since the only thing holding me back from transferring was to leave in another week, it was going to work out!  It was good news! Then the possibility that the BF could get his due raise, and respect from the engineering department was another good thing. All these good things rushing through me, assuring me that it was going to help me. 

That's where I went wrong.  It was all geared to me.  When was I actually thinking of him?  This entire time, he's been riddled with stress, and burdened with the work of a man who ran a company for the past twenty years and just up and left one day...dropping everything on someone who's only known this twenty year baby (the company) for two.

I didn't realize how stressful it was going to be.  How much of a strain it's going to put on us, because now he's the one in charge. He's the one responsible, he's the one dealing with twenty years of back logged BS and a bunch of quick handovers because the VP didn't have the common decency to help make a transition a little easier and give maybe, say a month or two's notice. This very well could be a strain on us.  But I need to be there for him, the kind nurturing woman I want to be.

Then there's the other shit in my life going on.  My sick selfish mind, tormenting me...Is there a future with this man?  It's been weighing heavy on my mind so much.  It's burdened me, and made me feel guilty, and ashamed for even thinking it...but I'm only human. 

Yes I love him.  I adore him, really, even though some of his ways have become overly annoying recently.  

The fact he is his mother's caregiver, and lives with her, makes me feel like we will never have a life together.  In no way do I look down on what he does, as it is commendable, and show his selflessness. The kind of man I would want.  However, how can he care for me, if we can't date normally? How is marriage even a possibility if he lives with his mom? How can we even think of starting a family, if he can't even live his own life?

I see him stressing over the house not being picked up or things being in a certain way - his mother's / father's way.  The yard needed tending to, his projects, his hobbies, the stuff he's accumulated to fill his empty time as he's been single for the past 7 or 8 years.  He's lost his father, which puts so much on him, and while his brother married, moved away and began a life of his own, and his sister moved out to have her own life, all the responsibility has been placed upon his fragile shoulders.

His ways that are set at his tender 33 years of age, are not even his own.  He hasn't developed a system, a household of his own, that he can enjoy.  An apartment, or what have you of his own stuff, his own ideas and decorations, and ways of doing things.  He's yet to do this.

And I sometimes stress over the fact that he will never do it.  We will never have our system, because he'll be trapped in the one set for him when he was a child.  I admire him taking care of his mother.  But what a tough and touchy situation.  Does he take care of her for the rest of her life, sacrificing his own?  Does he begin his own, including her in it? How does  he do that? Where does she live, who will cook for her and clean her house and what's to be done?  Does she go to a home? No.  He would never have it.

So here's where my train stops.  Where do I fit in? How does our relationship even become substantial enough for me to imagine a future and hope that man becomes the father of my children one day? How do I dream and picture our house, and the memories we make, when we've yet to be able to make them now?

He's in my life - but I'm not in his, much.  His life consists of so much more other than me, and I'm afraid, it will always be so, and I'm afraid, maybe, that it just will not happen for us.

I want to believe that it just will be ok and we'll move in together and cook together, and DO together...Establish dinner nights, taco Tuesday, big Sunday dinners, sometimes a brunch...a specific date night...movies on the couch, a life together  - normalcy.  I know that's so far from what will happen any time, that it's starting to whittle me down.

I've been left to believe that after my husband destroyed me, and my life, that it wasn't meant to be, and that one day, I would meet a man who I could have that life with.  Here I am facing 30, and I feel like my window is closing....and I don't know why I can't just stop and be happy for today...for last night when he laid his head on my lap and I played Skyrim and then we went to bed, and woke up and got ready for work together. 

The now.  The little moments I DO have with him.  It makes me feel like a horrible person for thinking about  these things...but I can't control it.

I just signed another year lease at my apartment...it was a big deal for me.  I was actually leery on signing another year lease at my place, because "what if" we were to move in together? Silly of me to even get up in arms over it...I actually stressed.  I laughed later, signed the lease, and realized I would be there, with my puppy living MY life, for a very long time.  "Ours" has yet to become...it has yet to start.

Selfishness, is a dirty thing.  I want to scrub til my skin is raw.

I love him.  He's worth it. Be grateful. Just repeat it...and breathe.  Someday, I will have the love I want. Someday....even if only in my dreams, I will have it.

I'm just tired of carrying this burden alone.I have to believe.  

And this kids, is why you don't fall in love....

I've suffered some pretty gut wrenching pain when it comes to my love life.  I lost a husband I never really had, had a slew of bad relationships, topped off with men who only used me because I was vulnerable and needed to feel something other than the unbearable pain inside that was consuming me.

It did consume me.  It turned me into something I wasn't or couldn't ever dream of becoming.  A vile needy, saddened broken being who just needed to be hugged, or listened to, or kissed.  It brought with it poison and poisonous people, self destruction, and countless hours of crying and many, many drinks consumed in a vapid attempt to dilute the pain, for I knew by this point I couldn't wash it away.

I finally began to accept my loneliness and tried to focus on myself, and healing.  I tried to be happy with me, and being alone and spending my time on myself and projects that I had created for myself.  I began to try to be happy.  It did not, change the fact however, that I was still alone, and still craving human connection on a deeper level than facebook, or friendship or even the closeness of sex could offer.

Then there was him.  This guy I had admired, and looked at forever, wondering what it would be like to be near him, just to talk about life, and look at the stars, and hold hands with him...what it would be like to be loved by someone, anyone, had been my curiosity, but he sparked my interest, most of all.  His overall put-togetherness was something very appealing, he was very attractive, and his arms, they just seemed so loving, like the kind I could find solace in....I know call me a dreamer, me finding solace in a man's arms.

Then it happened, by chance, by fate, by God - I thought...we went on a date.

A mutual friend person of ours finally hooked us up.  Since our first date, it seemed as though we were inseparable.  He was always anxious to see me, and his eyes lit up.  He treated me like I was something, like I was worth something and then I finally began to realize, I was, and it wasn't me, it was all these people I let influence my reflection of myself that made me feel I wasn't.

The day he told me he loved me came as quite a surprise.  He had hinted toward getting feelings for me, but this was a full out confession.  His feelings came strong and fast and I was overwhelmed.  It was real, it felt real.  Was it happening? Was I finally being loved for the first time by a man?  I cried in his arms at the news, and told him not to say that to me, because so many others had before, and they didn't mean it. 

I kept those words.  I let them run through my heart and fill my body with joy -overwhelming joy that this man who I could just let go and be myself with, loved me.  It was unbelievable.  So I dove in, I let  go, and I let myself my fragile, eager, damaged and fearful self, fall in love.

We had a wonderful budding romance, it seemed to be moving perfectly along, slowly we became intimate, sweetly we grew.  Nothing felt forced or wrong, it was all such a blessing to me.  Being in his arms alone brought such warmth and comfort to me.

Then it happened, as all things do in life, it changed.  Something in him changed, and caused him to withdraw, to step back, to take those words back from me, like I didn't deserve them.  His reasons were his own, I tried to make sense of it all, being it was all such a shock to me, yet here I was crying in my SUV with him next to me, staring, blankly, giving no explanation as to why he couldn't muster up the love he once had for me again, and how did it go so quickly?

I wanted too much.  I expected too much.  I felt too much.  IT was all too much. What an excuse.

I want to be sure, is all he could say.  And suddenly all my comfort and warmth was gone, and it's left me with this hole.  It's filled me with doubt and self loathing.  He still wants to do stuff with me, he wants a relationship with me but he's just not sure about those feelings he seemingly so happily once gave.

I'm trying for the sake of us, and what I dreamed we could be to push it down, and away from my mind.  But it's clogging me, it's draining the hope from my body.  It's that little fear inside screaming "You'll never be good enough, no one will ever love you, happiness isn't deserved to you!"

It's always been there.  Now it's taking over and for everything I want I can't stop it.  Why, why did he take my happiness? Why steal the sunshine from my skies?  Why am I not good enough?  I can't be the girl that sweeps someone off their feet? There is nothing enamoring about me?

It's painful, yes.  But he's still here, wanting a relationship.  And I'm here still trying to fake a smile and pretend that I'm not mortally wounded, but I am.  I'm lost in a big ball of confusion and I feel hurt.  I don't know what else to feel, but my heart still aches, and I feel like my trust for him was in vain.  My mind is producing vivid dreams wrapped in fear and waking me in my sleep, it's all just become so painful and misleading - nothing like what it started....effortless and true, and loving.  Where everything just felt magical, and right.

Fucking Disney.  I suppose there never is magic.

Still, I love his eyes, those that once looked so calmly at me with a sweetness to them.  I just want to look into them.  His lips I knew were the only lips I wanted to ever kiss again. But me, he had to take a step back.  Because he wanted to be sure.  Because nothing about me screamed to him, yep.  She's worth it. And God damn it, I want to fucking be worth it already. It hurts to be alone.

And that is what kills me.  After all I've been through and all I've prayed for, I still can't find someone to just love me, and be like, yep, it's her, and she's all I need. The fact he has to stop and think, reminds me, I'm not special. And only reinforces those negative fears and feelings I have.

And here  I sit, crying, scared, and love unrequited.

It's official...I'm stuipidly, madly, insanely in love....

Hearts will shiver, thighs will quiver...this man is a giver.

My boyfriend is better than yours, simply because he's mine. I digress...let me tell you of this magic man that has ignited fire so deep within me, so intense that I'm a trembling excited mess every time he's near....read on if you care...           

             I've struggled, deeply.  My struggle has broken me..  It's devoured me and made me feel as if I'd never be the same again, that much is true. I am no longer the person I used to be.  It's not necessarily a bad thing.  I've come so far in learning to love myself, and who I am and what I can handle.  I've lost, made mistakes, grown and done everything in between.

            My struggle is not who defines me, it's only a shadow of who I am.  A fraction, a moment in the existence of my life.  There are many moments, however that mean something to me.  Meeting him, is one of those very moments, and what I honestly believe my struggle to be all for.  Everything I've endured in this life, every mistake I've made, and every tear I've cried has led me to him.

            I'm blessed beyond measure with a man who can only exceed my expectations of what I could wish for.  He, to me is perfect, and he is my reward.  Loving him, and taking care of him could only be an honor and something I could have only dreamed up. He is my prince charming and he rode in on his white steed and whisked me away from my pain and into a dreamlike state of passion and love.

            This man is tall, and strong.  His eyes are blue and soft, glistening with the traces of melancholy and hopeful optimism. They're lined with lashes that extend to the sky, and they look at me and sparkle with love and happiness.  His hair is thick and soft, a golden shade of blonde that glistens in the sunlight...it's well groomed and neat, as his appearance is tidy, and well kept. 

            His smile is something that lights up my very existence.  It's slightly perfect, and his thick luscious lips open wide, revealing his white teeth and sometimes a tip of his tongue if he's in laughter.  His chest is modest, yet muscular, and softly lined with hair that is not offensive or too covering of the curve of his breast.  His hands, are delicately large. Slim, long fingers, and wide palms, that gently yet strongly grab my face each time we kiss, the hands that comfort me, stroke my hair, the ones connected to the perfect pair of arms, that hold me ever so gently.

            Physically, to me, he is ideal, obviously.  Mentally, he is even more.  His personality lights the fire in me.  We connect in a very real way, as if we've known each other for our entire lives.  Our thoughts are the same, and being like minded is such a wonderful feeling.

            We laugh together, he's smart, he listens, and he actually hears me.  I've learned more about love, and I'm talking true down and dirty honest love, in the two short months we've been seeing each other, that I can only imagine what is to come. He's the man I want to live with, cook with, grow with, learn from, dance with in the moonlight, go on adventures with, start a family with.  He's my missing puzzle piece and every part of him fits me.  He knows everything about me, and my past and my hopes and dreams, and struggles, and he accepts me.  He appreciated me at my worst, loved me, and continues to prove how amazing he is by treating me with such love and respect and supporting me, it's simply magical to be accepted, and loved for just being you!

            I've been so wrapped up in love I cannot even put into words what it feels like, because it's something I've never known. I've never felt something so earth shatteringly real.  When he kissed me, the first time, we were a little buzzed after a night of nervously drinking on our first date, to which he immediately asked for a second; the next day.  It was an excited relieved overzealous kiss on both our parts.  However, the next day, we had our second date, to which he introduced me to his closest friends, to my surprise and excitement.  After a wonderful time, he took me home and we had nervous conversation until he left.  Then he kissed me... Our first, sober real kiss, not full of drunken excitement.  He grabbed me close, came in slow and when his lips touched mine, they were so soft and sweet, and they fit.  He kissed me slow and deeply, and it was long and loving and sweet, and instantly my heart leaped in my chest.  It was then, in that moment when our lips fit together, and the soft magic exploded between them, I knew, I knew they were the last lips I'd ever kiss.

            And since then, I've kissed those lips many times, and every single time, I get that magic.  When he holds my hand, I get that magic.  He ignites something so deep within me,  I never even knew it was there.  And each day, I fall more and more in love with him.  He is what I want, what I've always hoped for, and I only see him, all day, every day, us and nothing else.

            When we make love it's something so special. I am completely enveloped in him.  I'm lost in his arms and his kiss, it's a passion so deep that's burned for so long, it's something so hard to handle, yet so pleasurable  and surreal.  He looks deep into my eyes, and I into his.  Those soft blues scan the inches of my body as his hands follow each curve and edge.  Exploring, caressing, kissing.  It's love, it's soft and new and intense. 

            His hands explore my body his eyes focused on me, he kisses me, and then I lose myself completely in his arms and it is until the explosions in my chest calm, and the quivering between my wet thighs have subsided that I open my eyes to realize where I am and where I've just came from.  I open my eyes to be met with his, slightly smiling at me, then he kisses me deeply as I calm my shaking body, his hand slides out from my legs and he moves slowly to caress my breasts and kiss them delicately.  He grabs me, pull me close and then it's him surrounding me holding me, and coming into me so swiftly as he watches my every muscle in my face shiver with delight.  Slow and steadily, he goes deep within me as he lays himself down to kiss me, and hold me completely.  I'm still trembling from the moments before, and quickly he brings me back.  His face tightens then softens with pleasurable release as we come together.

            Sometimes there's passion filled laughter afterwards, sometimes its kisses followed by my giggles, sometimes it's us quietly taking in what we feel and what the other is feeling, silently laying in our release and love and admiration of each other in that very raw and intimate moment, and mostly it's a mixture of them all, and sometimes if I'm lucky it's round two, or three....

            Boisterous laughter bellows from within me when we wake up in the morning, kissing cuddling, playing, joking.  It's the absolute best feeling in the world, and it's love, pure and simple, and raging.

            It's a safe sensuality he brings me, a safe area for me to be, to speak, to feel.  I feel as though I have him by my side, nothing can get me down.  He is the man I've dreamed of, prayed for, and come to.  I've never thought such passion could come from me.  I never thought I could love anyone.  I never thought anyone would ever love me...as no one ever has.  No one has ever loved me, truthfully, actually loved me.

            This man loves me, I feel it down to the core of my being.  I love him so. A thousand times yes will I say to him I'll stay.  He makes me safe, and there's no place I'd rather be, than lying in his arms, walking by his side, and being completely surrounded my him.  He can swallow my life whole and I'll drown in those soft blue eyes of his, and never look back.

            He is my other half, and there is nothing that can convince me otherwise.  How in only two short months can two people develop such magic? Such fiery passion?  I dare not question. I'm only here to feel and enjoy what moments I have with this man, and the future he's promised will come, but it is today that I have, today that I know, and I know one thing....

...Today, his lips are mine.

injustice

I am my own injustice...

   Stupid, stupid girl, you do it to yourself. You stupid girl. 

I am the chaos that surrounds me.

I am simply, a girl desperately seeking a better fulfillment of what she honestly believes she deserves.  I am a five year old girl, crying out.  Inside, I'm still her.  I'm still twirling my skirt and blindly throwing myself at the world.  Yet outside, I am this adult who is fully aware of the situation I am throwing myself into.  I'm fully aware of the harm I've caused, and fully aware of the torment bestowed upon me.  Inside I'm throwing this tantrum screaming so loudly it drowns out my thoughts.  Outside I am merely a woman who's locked inside her mind.  Quiet, secretive, and very, very lonely.

I will recklessly seek love until it's mine, and then I will systematically destroy what I have worked so hard to hold; for this is my destiny.

To always be the girl who waits;

 for the thing she believes she doesn't deserve.

a little birdy told me...

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my unofficial grip on reality.

My disease only masquerades as happiness, for I can never truly feel it, or trust that it is, in fact a real feeling....

Pt 1. Getting a grip.

Gripping my throat and holding tight, it pulls me under, forces me down and holds me under water until my head is light and dizzy.  I slip into unconsciousness for and unknown amount of time and awake, groggy, cold, confused.  What day is it?  Where have I been?  Why the hell is it freezing in this place? 

That sick feeling lingers in my stomach for days, maybe weeks.  I was forcefully drowned and taken advantage of, I feel it still on my skin, the guilt, the pain, the tremendous need to feel something -,  anything other than the physical pain of this depression that has raped my mind and body.

Distractions now become more prominent.  Hours spent indulging in video games, lucid ideas of what  I could do to make my apartment different than it is, anything to change everything that is current, but no action.  I distractedly choose between pink or grey, forcing myself to forget that inner disgust.  Constantly holding my breath hoping it will prevent the tears from pouring from my eyes.  Staring blankly at my computer screen lost in my thoughts, sinking further and further into a whirlwind of sadness and anger.

Finale; a time for rest.

Sleep comes, as my medicated eyes cannot control their movements any longer.  I drag myself to my pleasantly lit room, to start the beginning of the same movie I've tried to watch for three weeks, and drift quickly to a corpse like sleep, cold and dreamless.  It is over so quickly, almost as if it never happened.

Pt 2. The uncontrollable pursuit of happiness

I awake tired as always, forcing myself up and out of my only comfort.  After the morning wash I notice my eyes sparkling and the uncontrolled widening of my pupils.  A sudden warmth comes over me and my cheeks flush slightly.  A minor self indulgence takes place as I take in my reflection; feeling a sharp sudden jolt of infatuation.  Today I wear a blue shirt, bright and happy, with green birds, ever so joyfully placed around.  Pink scarf.  Primary green jacket, bright socks.  My makeup was effortless, and I'm excited for the day.  Excitedly running around and completing every task on my list, I've become productive.  My mind has become a less clouded raging torrent full of ideas and void of any emotion but this false happiness I have no control over.  I've force fed laughter out of myself into the world.  I'm smiling as though there is no control.  Now I want to paint and sing, maybe dance and visit a friend...after all, there is so much to discuss! Organization takes over, through wild bursts of energy.  I talk incessantly, with quick sporadic thoughts of life the universe and everything in between.

Pt 3. It's back...the one thing that never leaves me,

 the only thing that never forgets.

This effortless forced joy lasts for about eighteen hours before my throat is tightened yet again and I am forced to drown in the pool of unwanted sorrow.  I manically build a put off project for however long it's been sitting there, and from the time a song changes to another, my mascara has already stained my face, dripped to my shirt and I've began the vicious spiral of self loathing and pain.

I wonder how long it will last this time?

I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way...

Pt. 1 - Indulgence

Mid morning at my office, I'm sipping coffee.  Distracted, I try to focus.  But the lingering sensation of what has come to pass still tingles within me.  I can still smell him on my skin. I can taste his flesh still with each exhale. 

Turning to walk, the air fills my nostrils with his scent, and the reminder of what we did in the dark, early hours of the morning...

I'm filled with regret and hatred again, for allowing him to do this, but how can I not? How can I turn down the most amazing thing I've ever felt? Because I'm a good person? Because I have morals? NO, I cannot, for I am weak and frail and he is strong and tan and his smell, it's intoxicating...

I can't get his scent off of me.

It's as if they know, anyone, everyone, what was done this morning...all I can do is think of her, and why he's sneaking back to me a year later....for "fun".  She's not fun? Does she not fulfill you?

Apparently not, that was found out previously amid early morning haze and opening my eyes to see a picture of her on the nightstand and myself; naked, sprawled on him....

Guilt has not overwhelmed me yet, for I still smell him, and I can almost feel him again.  My hatred for him cannot distract from the flashbacks of a few hours ago, the explosions of pleasure between my thighs, and his eyes, reddened with a night of drinking, icy blue like my heart, looking back up at me..

The guilt I fear will not come.  There is no better lover than him.

Oh what have I done? 

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” 
― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma

Pt. 2 - Regret

Later, I look into the eyes of the one who is unattainable.  The one I pine after day after day like a school girl. Wanting to cook dinner with him, and watch movies, have grown up conversations and eat dinner with our grown up friends....oh what a silly thought, to have something substantial.  Thinking to myself, you dirty little slut, why would he ever want you?  The one who I would want to love, the model man to love me in return.  I have filled that void in my soul of wanting a good man to love - knowing full and damn well I cannot have - him by filling the void between my legs and covering up the fact I want love.

Then I ponder a quick love or sex thought.  If it were to boil down to me settling for one or the other, I'd choose sex, good sex.. 

Reasoning for this is beyond me, albeit my own. I've become accustomed to loneliness.  I almost revel in it.  I enjoy a quick romp in my princess pink room, rolling around in my flowered sheets with the boy of the moment.  It's become too easy...it's become to easy to be disconnected from any form of human emotion and delve deeper into the animalistic need for pleasure.

The worst part of it all, is I don't feel any remorse for my actions.  I'm just setting up my own catastrophe, but what a sexy, tingling, toe curling catastrophe it is.  It's hindering me from attaining the only thing I believe I cannot get... 

A vicious cycle I suppose I would stop if someone where to step up to the large plate that is loving me.

These thoughts rest not on my weary mind today....today, it's early morning guilt free pleasure from the one man that can ignite flames from within, and feeling myself fall limp.... Today it's his smell lingering on me...

Today, I wear him like the scarf around my neck.