Reality’s Setback

At times I can’t even write to myself. I let myself down in being a best friend. Because, honestly, I am alone. We are all, in fact, alone. We are born alone and we die alone. The only person we should invest in is ourselves. If I leave it up to others I fail. I was born not belonging so shocking that I live with the same mindset. Others prove this to be true as when I reach out for love it’s always too much and never enough. If it was to be what it is supposed to be than it would be and it’s not. He shouldn’t be surprised that his rejection created this response. I do not blame him though. He is on his own path, learning his own lessons that are separate from my own. I want to love beyond that rejection, accept it and just move on. However, it makes me sad that it creates such a distance. This eats at me constant like time itself. I have so much love I want to share yet feel restricted. Love letters and blow jobs. That’s what I wanted. I swore off love. He was supposed to be safe. I fell in love. I chose him to forever love but reciprocity is lacking. I’m lost the wife mentality with the negative connotations with marriage. I should not have to grieve for his loss of me because I am not what he wants. He has had his limit of wives. They remain the special pair who won his godly promises that I can never compete with. How did I ever expect to anyways? I am different than the masses of people who live among me. This relationship was never about finding my true love, my one and only and answers to all my prayers. No, it was just another lesson. Perhaps even the final lesson in love. Perhaps the one I finally understood the reasoning behind. Now I get to progress. Go back to investing in myself as only I can let myself down. I do not need the married life. I do not need the dying man. I do not need the waiting rooms;I’d rather be bedside. I do not need the grief. It’s not promised for me so there is no obligation. Call it selfish but I am a survivor. The last decade alone has transformed me drastically into who I exist today as and I am not about to let that knowledge go. I’d like to think there is meaning to my existence. Even if in some random generated trillion year lifeform. Perhaps at that point I will become pure light. The ultimate goal, right? Heaven? Nirvana? Until then it’s just living in my head. I have nobody to talk to. Pen and paper, now thumbs and screen, have always comforted me. Maybe it’s my own fault. I’ll tell them if they ask. I have no qualms about my dialogue. Secrets I keep to myself it is better that way. I’m not here to make friends. My objective is knowledge. Perhaps why it hurts so much. Perhaps why life is so hard. Maybe in another life, in a trillion years, I will get to try again. I hope I am wiser. I sure fucked up a lot.

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The Aftermath of Love


It saddens me that my best friend, the love of my life, my true twin soul is dying. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I try not to think about what will happen when he is gone. I do my best to be grateful for every moment we have together. Today is Halloween and I just got off the phone with him. Some chest pains and not feeling hungry. I know he’s dying. He knows he’s dying. We talked about him dying. But I will never be prepared for it happening.


November 21, 2017 539pm

I avoid him and the rest of the world like the plague. Driving home I suffered great anxiety in debating on whether I was going to go home or remain free. Debating whether it was okay for me to do my own thing. I don’t see how it matters in the long run. He is not my husband and he is dying. I love a dying man. A man who doesn’t want to marry me. I don’t blame me, he is dying. But it’s what I want in life, what I feel I need. It’s important to me which should be important to him which should circle back into a one of a kind love story.


I sit here now alone without obligation to speak to others and I dread the idea of returning home to company I feel foreign to. And even more disturbing is the notion of going thru the door and further trying to be alone. What time is a good a time? When is bedtime? Why do I have to be this way? Isolating from him, isolating from me. There is no mercy to my mind. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. He is dying. I cannot lie to myself even if he thinks he can lie to us both. I don’t know how to feel. I’m not supposed to. Im supposed to be okay with it. I’m finding that I am not.


November 23, 2017


This year I am most thankful for Tom. The reason being is that before him I felt I was less than human: depressed and defective. Everyday it was a struggle just wanting to get out of bed and pretend to be like other productive members of society to blend in. I couldn’t fool myself so I hardly felt I could fool anyone else. Many days I stayed in bed unable to pretend. I never knew how to be human. I never knew how to not be depressed and plotting my demise. Before Tom, I didn’t feel I could be loved or that I ever would be. I was broken and accepting of my fate. But then comes Tom to my rescue. I didn’t know it at the time that he would save me from myself but he did. Honestly, I subscribed to rumors and prejudices of others and was hardly a fan of the man hoping he was going to kill me and put me out of my misery. I was starving myself at the time and already on my way out of this life so figured there was no harm. I didn’t even like the guy so it wasn’t a big deal when he asked me out. It was casual at first but then something happened. I fell in love with him and suddenly for the first time ever I understood what it felt like to feel alive. He made me feel safe in his embrace and understood my brokenness. For the first time in thirty some years I had found where I truly belonged. The first year was a struggle. I told him I loved him. He laughed. I wanted to move in. He refused. He kept his distance as I pushed boundaries. The first time he told me he loved me we were in his hospital bed embraced. We cried together as time suddenly became uncertain for our future. I have recently struggled with this reality but despite my fears I still wake up grateful to be able to share my day with him. There is no place I would rather be than right next to him. I am grateful that he has chosen me to spend his days and nights with. I no longer feel so empty and without purpose in life. He truly has blessed me with meaning and the will to live another day. To him he is a flawed man but to me he is no less than a superhero. For all that he is and all that he will ever be, I will forever be thankful to share this time we have together. I look forward to life because he is in it. I know without him I wouldn’t be here today and if I was I definitely would not be this happy about it.


December 7, 2017 Thursday

Pearl Harbor day. Also the day that my Jewish cat, Mason, was laid to rest. He had congestive heart failure. He was 4 years old. The Osseo Vet oversaw him. It was many years ago, perhaps a decade ago now. He was a ginger kitty, just the way that I like my kitties. My first kitten since being my own, no longer living with my mother. No longer forced to brave the elements. Mason Lee Mathews. He was my baby. I am not the nurturing kind and yet I relished in his kitty embrace. The hardest thing I ever had to decide. Do I let him suffer or do I end his pain now? Maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong. I do my best not to dwell. I guarantee he had a good life and will be long remembered. Often times we must endure hard times. The meaning makes sense after the tragedy. I digress. #imwinedrunk


January 22, 2018 Monday 8:20pm
There’s tension. Perhaps created by my mental state. Inside my head I contemplate. I am angry. I feel it in my veins. It’s hot. It is hard to pretend I am okay when I am not. Even harder to explain with words what it is I feel inside. It’s all falling apart and I am inclined to let it go. It stopped being about him hours ago. It is not my destiny to be loved. It is not in the cards, the dice or the spin. Maybe this is our first fight. My fault. I’m pissed the dog ate my shoes. I am pissed he answered his ex girlfriend’s phone call in the middle of a conversation and I’m pissed he associates with a less than moral establishment for nothing but knowledge, entertainment and stress. I’m pissed that I don’t feel like a priority. Just another thing time I have settled for less than what I feel I deserve. Why must I be the one to have to lower my standards to get love? Doesn’t that make it less likely that it is truly love and if it is can’t I demand more of it? Who makes the rules? Are they unwritten based on standard social titles? Boyfriends do this, husbands do that. Wives play this role and that’s girlfriend stuff. Months ago I wanted a husband and now I barely want a boyfriend. What’s the point? To keep me in a stagnant position in life. In between investing and just surviving. Just waiting for the moment when he is gone to start from scratch. Why even go through all that grief if I am just a girlfriend? Why should I care so much? He doesn’t desire anything closer. Why then should I desire to put myself out there? Why not soften the blow? It’s not like he dreams the same dream I do. I lay in bed alone. I came to bed early. He scoffed on his way out the door. It’s Monday. I got up early. I worked overtime. I drove in snow and ice and slush. I have a head cold. I don’t want to sit on furniture. I want to lay in bed and not have to move for the next ten hours. He talks to someone on the phone in the other room. I hear him but am disinterested. Probably his ex girlfriend. Who cares. Maybe he will marry her. I feel so angry. After I woke up yesterday with another pair of shoes chewed up by Milo the dog, I have been angry. The phone call. The restaurant. The future. I don’t want to pretend I am okay with any of it. I suddenly just do not care. I could walk away with my current mindset. Pen poetry by the pages of my pain.


January 23, 2018 4:50pm

My way home proved insightful. I broke my rule. Earlier. Everyone all probably saw. Made some drama out of nothing when in reality I’m just a horrible person. Save your denial because it’s true regardless of belief. Perhaps it’s mental illness. They named me it many times before. I have no mental health credit. That’s cool he loves me now what. My apologies for posting publicly how I feel. I hate myself for making him cry. Thinking so what if he loves me. He is going to die and leave me alone without even the honor of being his wife. Fuck him. That’s how I feel. Obviously not the appropriate time to speak my mind. Our first fight and I feel numb. I’m sure it didn’t have to be this horrible. I’m sure I made it worse. It’s like I can’t help myself. It’s like I’m someone else. I came home as I had nowhere to go but mostly because I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I didn’t want to face him and luckily I didn’t have to. He came to me later. Clearly upset and angry. He looked small. My heart hurt knowing I upset him. The last thing he said was, “And then you say you are gonna pack up and leave as if I want that. That’s the last thing that I want. I love you. That’s the last thing I want” then he bowed his head, grabbed the door firmly but closed it behind him softly. I will never question his love for me again. Inside I felt panic though. Him relying on me that much. A dependant. I feel suffocated. I don’t think I do well with this kind of stuff.


February 7, 2018 234pm
I don’t know if he does it to test me or what. Who wants to hear about their significant others exes, especially joking about going to Mexico as two couples? As if that wouldn’t be awkward. He clarified it wasn’t a girlfriend, just someone he slept with and possibly impregnated. I told him they would only need 3 tickets as I wouldn’t be part of it and then quietly slipped out if the room when it didn’t seem obvious that was the cause. It boils my blood. We just went over this not even a month ago. I don’t want to hear about his exes with girlfriend’s or sluts. I don’t know what else to call them. It makes me uncomfortable. Obviously he doesn’t understand this. It won’t be long before he is picking up girl scout cookies he brought from her. Maybe they will have a quickie when that happens. What do I care? What’s going to happen is going to happen. It’s not like he will marry me. He swears he loves me but neglects to honor my wishes of not mentioning his ex conquests. I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to hear about this. I’m sure I’ll get over it, it’s just unsettling.


April 6, 2018 Friday:28pm Rozarios


What can I say but that I’ve created a mess in life. Not that I am surprised in the least. Upon my daughter’s suggestion I let Tom know I would be leaving him at some point and if he wanted I could do it now otherwise we can do it later when that time comes. This is where things got complicated.


In my mind it makes sense to come across so blunt. I mean it’s literally true to the letter. I can leave you now or later upon my decision. Of course it causes discourse. He reiterated, he is NOT getting married again. I already know this, no big deal. Knowing this and accepting this I have mentally prepared for the separation. Keisha she says it’s stupid over just a piece of paper. I’ve expressed it’s more than just that to me and it doesn’t even have to be that. Just the mere solidification of commitment and love is all I truly desire. Denied; which speaks volumes in meaning. He is not the one to be my forever one, obviously. I accept this. I get it. Hence why eventually I will be leaving the relationship. But then I appear to be making a poor decision when I decide to seek out someone else who wants the same love I do. None pending just the idea there is someone out there who could get me on the same level and want to profess his undying love and devotion. Obviously it’s something a lot of couples do. How does one get to that point? How do they decide? I need to know this. I hold no grudges for him not wanting to commit so why he hold grudges cause I’m looking for more than that?


I currently sit at Rozarios. My home when all my other homes fail me. My parents, fail. My boyfriend, fail. My kid, better off without me. I am alone. I am alone forever. Hooray. HOOR-fucking-RAY. It’s my karmic debt. Of course the man who saves me from my suicide is also a man who can’t love me and promise me forever. Why would I expect something else? As if I paid ALL my karmic debt in life to be in the clear. There is no reason I’m here but to suffer. No reason for resolution of my soul. I’m not designed for a life partner. It is not just his rejection that makes sense but my entire life that has projected the same. Life is not for me to live like others. They say, they say to stay it’s selfish. But isn’t it selfish for them to give me the illusion of belonging without actually allowing me too. I demand one normal goddamn thing in my life and suddenly I’m throwing away the best thing that ever happened to me. Really? Because loving a dying man is so much fucking fun? Knowing he is a time bomb and has higher priorities than love? I’m a romantic at heart so please, by all means, tell me how that sounds like fun? Or am I selfish to prefer separation by choice than fate? I am not wanted to make that choice to be apart of it. I’m no one. Just a girlfriend. A friend. An acquaintance. Just another person in the same room grieving the loss of a loved one. Nobody special. Nobody who matters for longer than life. I’m not selfish, I’m realistic. Why not avoid all the second row seating? I deserve more than general admission. Sitting with the other exes. Nobodies special. That’s his truth not mine. I demand more. I want to be first row. I want the name. The status. The vow. The commitment. Not the rejection. Not the I’ll just be here cause it’s convenient. I want depth. I want the honor. I’m better fit for the middle ages. Back then it would make sense. Back then people would understand. But now it doesn’t make sense. Marriage doesn’t mean shit. People abuse it. It’s a joke. Hence why my conviction is a joke. I don’t blame the man. It’s not his fault. He has already been married twice. How can it mean anything after that point? Seriously, after the first one how is it considered sacred? There is no scarcity in marrying everyone you want to marry and doing so. I would understand if all my intentions fruitated. There should be a limit. I get it. The fact I get it is what makes it that much harder. I don’t expect it. I don’t want pity marriage. And somehow I have become okay with us going our separate ways. That’s what people do who don’t make commitments. It’s not my fault for analyzing this, processing this, understanding this and accepting it. I’m unlike many who call it for what it is in the getgo. Hey we ain’t committed, I’m leaving you at some point I just don’t know when is the bottom line of every relationship that isn’t vowed upon. It’s the truth I didn’t write but will expose.


As a result I contemplate next steps. His choice now makes little difference in my thought process as I internalize it and own it as my own karmic debt. I accept this. Now, I move on. Now, I do mental gymnastics on possibilities from here. I’m relieved from any responsibility in the relationship and at the same time I’m questioning the future. Should I leave now or can I wait? It doesn’t matter to him as he doesn’t have intentions for us. It’s further demonstrative of how little importance I have in the grand scheme of things. How my absence carries no more weight than my presence. With that in mind and as the reality that it is, it truly depicts how unimportant this relationship is compared to any other relationship that I have had. I had other struggles with those. This was too perfect for imperfections and required immediate attention to my ego. It seems petty for those born without values based on love.


I don’t know where to go from here. It returns me to my original thought. This life isn’t for me. I will always feel i don’t belong. That I’m not good enough. I think birth taught me that. Family already instilled that truth within me. From there I outcasted myself from the tribe seeking the very same love and validation I never received and being betrayed. Pregnant,alone and depressed. Story of my life. I accepted rape for love. Why wouldn’t I demand more for myself?


(***She boldly scoops up a radish from the veggie tray on an abandoned table, salts it a few times, pops it in her mouth and returns to the table all smiles. Her courage to break social norms was admirable in some ways. She was just as different as I was. Just as lost and unable to connect with anyone as myself. She is my longest friend but truly she has always been my family for the get go.***)


April 7, 2018 Saturday, 12:57pm Home
He’s been gone since early morning. I caught his eye in the doorway. He did not look happy as if I had broken his heart. I was just setting the boundaries. Reaffirming my choices. I don’t know what to do from here. I never said I wanted to leave just that at some point I probably am and i could do it now or then. That sounds dumb I know. I’m not that right in the head though remember. It’s not even about Tom. That’s just another thing after another thing that makes me understand that love is my karmic debt. It must be. It’s all I have ever wanted, all that I have ever given and yet somehow it never seems to get it right. This is not getting it right. Falling in love with a dying man and wanting marriage from him to satisfy my inner desire for that as a life goal. Why can’t I have that? I can. Just not with him. He doesn’t want that. Why does it bring me mental agony is puzzling to some. Even at times myself. It just makes it one more reason to die. One more reason why I do not belong in this life. I don’t think like others. Or maybe I’m with the wrong others. At this point I feel psychotic. As if I have lost my basis for reality. Which would only confirm I am mentally ill by standards. Life is just not for me. It’s too much participation. The interaction is exhausting. The roboticism. Everything is stale. My soul isn’t growing, it’s fucking dying. My body is expanding and my heart is shrinking. I’m getting colder and more depressed with every new life lesson. I must take responsibility. Maybe it’s too much responsibility to take. My brain is wired for possibilities but it’s black and white. I don’t want to continue playing house in a home unsecured and a name left ungiven. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Honestly, I have no clue why anything even matters in the first place. Why do I need things anyways? Why can’t it just be enough? He asked me that. It’s a valid question. Because I’m lame is hardly an answer I suppose. I’ve hurt him unneedlessly. I don’t want to leave him. That’s not what I want. How do I plan for a future if I am so uncertain about my present? I have worked so hard on trying to conform to society. I neb


April 8, 2018 Saturday 830am


What are you having for breakfast? I ask because I feel if I show more of an interest in others that I might find a similar interest in myself. So i dont accidently whack myself. No, you shouldnt be alarmed. This has lasted 30 years so i doubt one more decade matters. Gawd. I have been working on trying to fit into the normal world for almost 30 years that i can consciously remember but apparently it just isn’t for everyone. It drives me crazy. I am finding acceptance as in it hasn’t been found yet. I’ll know it when it happens this i am confident. In the mean time I am lost, on the Island unaware that I will never be alive until I find that acceptance. Which is a hard pill to swallow especially for someone like myself. Someone who has always been separate from everyone else but in a shameful way. Negative attention the story of my life. I feel guilty and ashamed of my school days where I was a disruptive little shit and honestly, I don’t know why. I stay in the same geographical area with that shame and guilt expecting a different internal reaction to public occurances. I’m not disappointed when it doesn’t alleviate. I used to party hard and most of those people are dead. Never me, never from my gross reckless conduct did ever I cease to exisit. Left further neurotic by the question of why as there should have been no other consequence but death. I was after all on that mission. Which leads me to failure at every goddamn thing ever sought. I don’t have to go into childhood or family structure for that is something I can accept. I can accept my choices up to this point. It is the future I find I struggle with. If I accept who I am than the future is a bleak one and stirs within me something ugly, something dark. It always resurfaces when I am left without direction, without purpose and without desire. It always leaves me to death. Suicide is never something that just happens. Well, I don’t think so at least. It’s something that’s within a person. My dad and I once talked about my depression and he honestly can’t understand why a person can’t just be Happy. I’m paraphrasing of course but that was the bottom line. I think some people are predisposed. Maybe cause I don’t drink a lot of water or maybe it is just my soul’s goal. I have to be honest sometimes it makes sense because for me, right now, this is as good as it gets. My family is alive and healthy. I have a decent job, amazing boyfriend, I am almost debt free and I published a book about me. It seems to be all downhill from here. Like he ain’t gonna live forever. My parents aren’t going to live forever. It doesn’t last. These are the good days for me. But no worries my dear Facebook friends, strangers, NSA, FBI, whoever today I am fine just existing and trying to fit in to society. I guess that’s why they say take it one day at a time. Minute by minute if one must. Suicide can be preventable if one doesn’t act upon it. This is i know from 30 years experience. I just have to talk it out and it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone even myself because at one point I guess that all that matters to some is that I am still here. Enact. Alive. Even if just in the background maybe it is comforting to others. But let’s be honest folks, I will always feel outcasted and alone. Which really fucking sucks. I can worry about that later though as it is time for breakfast. Today, again, day one, I survived.
;


April 17, 2018 6:55pm Tuesday

The guy would rather die than marry me for my benefits. Pretty fucking sad. The reality is that I will never have that special someone who feels the same way I do. His loss I suppose. I’m quitting my job this week anyways. I don’t need the benefits or all the money if I have just myself to support. I guess it doesn’t get any clearer than denying my offer for health insurance. It is what it is and I’m not going to beg anyone to be my forever love. I guess I just suck at picking people to love. Never could find one on my level. I’ll be working in the public again so maybe my future husband will reveal himself. I love Tom but he isn’t on my level and that’s not my fault. He would rather die than marry me so if that is his choice than one can’t blame me for hoping there is someone else out there willing to love me right. His loss and I cant feel bad about that. We all make our own choices. I just wished I could become unattached. That I could just walk away and find someone new to make me just as happy. If there is someone else out there for me, who knows. I feel I’m just backtracking in life. That I’m not gaining ground and that I won’t until the end of this relationship. It’s not going to end well for me in any case. I’ll be left with a dead boyfriend. Hooray.


May 23 2018
Highs and lows. Cycling. Questioning life, questioning love, questioning it all. If it doesn’t get any better why wait til it gets any worse? If I get it all in another lifetime, why not go and explore? If you want to open up a dialogue I’m more than happy to converse. If you have followed closely you will see this as it is. A manic episode. Obvious with my oversharing, as I like to get personal-I like getting real. So let’s get personal, let’s get real. Suicide, is my failsafe. The same scripting from almost thirty years ago is stuck on repeat. It’s autopilot. I have attempted many times, at least a dozen. Maybe I am a coward or maybe I just suck at it. The odds seem to be against a person especially for me. The statistics speak for themselves. Overdosing just 12% success with horrible pain. Women are less likely to use guns to shoot themselves and that was top on the list if methods that are quick. I personally have considered it but I know I would fuck it up. Same with hanging myself. So they never are an option. Cyanide is on the top three of success rate but it seems like too much of an effort to prepare. I talk myself out of it as fast as I talk myself in. Back and forth. I never feel good enough. Maybe that is the bottom lie. Not a goddamn thing I ever did normal but get a college degree. Somehow I managed a 3.8 GPA with one coma induced suicide attempt and another brief stay institutionalized made worse by a narcissistic boyfriend. Everything else in life I am incapable of achieving, of having and of enjoying. I get hung up and the details but the bottom line is I am not here for love. It is not mine to conquer, perhaps why I have always been drawn to it. I was born with the karmic debt and I know this however apparently I have not accepted this. Every month the issue comes up and I internalize it. I am not here for love. I am here for knowledge. I an here to learn. And that is fucking bullshit and yet so poetic. The irony kills me, literally. I can say with certainty that I will be the cause of my own demise. I see it no other way.


June 13, 2018 Wednesday 517pm Rozarios

Just like clockwise here I am. The difference being I have came to acceptance. I don’t even want it with him anymore. Why would I, he doesn’t? That would be stupid of me. My latest brilliant idea is to have a three year plan. Invest in myself rather than a non committal man. Sure he loves me, sure he says he won’t leave me, sure. I have spent a lot of time with this topic. I have concluded so many things. I vocalize them so it is not a surprise. Laying down boundaries. Maybe I’m irrational, maybe I am missing something. Why am I like this? I hate myself sometimes. Surprisingly enough death was not even considered in this life moment as my body is doing just fine on its own. Now I’m here among people thinking about how alienated I am. Married people galore. Fuck them. I’m kidding. I’m happy for them. I am happy for those people who decided to make a commitment to be a family. They give me hope. It could be me. It couldn’t possibly have worse odds than the Powerball. I want to invest in an empire not just piggyback. I want to bring my family to new heights. That is the goal after isn’t it? Isn’t there milestones in life one must achieve to feel as if life has purpose? One must have goals to bring meaning into a meaningless life. Chances are life is just random. We will never be this form again. Our energy is ever changing which makes this life limited in meaning. Meaning based on individual beliefs based on both environment and genetics. There is no secret. This is it. You die, your dead, you pass on. Passing on to another life form, in another time and in another place.


*I am almost 38 years old. 456 months. Roughly 166,440 days.*random thought


I just don’t get it. Maybe I’m destined to be alone. Maybe I shouldn’t set personal goals. Oh hey, here is your life lady just accept it. It’s frustrating. I could cry. I’ll just keep my planning to myself. I don’t want to hide it. I want to leave Wisconsin, that’s a goal. It gets harder the older I get. I thought of it on the way home. Moving halfway across the country alone, away from everyone I know. I did panic for a brief second thinking of the loneliness and yet it occurred to me I am lonely already. Lately, I have felt alienated from life. As if I am just an observer, invisible to the world. It’s a very shitty feeling. Almost like the love of your life saying he doesn’t want to marry you. I learned early on in life that the sooner you get over wasting time on the situation you can work on the problem. At one point in my life I had a dream, a goal, a mission. Why do I have to stop because of rejection? Is it because I address it? Because I am okay with it in my head finally. After months of processing the problem I have resolved to just plan beyond. If it’s not forever to him than why can’t I say the same thing? So if it’s not forever what happens next? Doesn’t sound fair to expect me not to prepare myself for my next 20 years. Yet I am called selfish. I am the one causing a scene, right? If I just ignored it there would be no problem. There would only be a void, resentment and lack of openness about the future. Apparently it’s not ours together. That is implied with the lack of desire to commit with marriage. Again it has truly become a disgusting subject to me at this point. Like get over it already. It’s only fair to declare my own stance on commitment since he has declared his. Mine being based on his choice. I’m accommodating. He has three years to exercise the option to continue. I think it’s reasonable. I’m saying I’ll give you five years of my life and since you don’t want forever I got go. I don’t think that is unreasonable, is it? Is it really? I feel it is a compromise however I am mentally unwell a portion of the time so I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s just another brilliant idea that wasn’t brilliant at all. It’s not my fault any more or less his fault. It’s a consensus. Let’s enjoy it than move on. Saves the pain of the inevitable death. I can add distance to make it less of a worst-thing-that-ever-happened-to-me scenario. That’s something I have no problem of avoiding. I’ll take the out.


717pm, outside Rozarios and mostly intoxicated, alone and listening to traffic. I feel lightheaded and unwell. Perhaps I am finally dying and this is it. I feel like a zombie. I can’t hide from life. It is suffocating me. Why do I have to be this way? Why can I not be like others? I don’t understand if I am the bad guy. I haven’t drank much of this last drink. I feel like I could pass out at any moment. Perhaps it is all in my head. I wouldn’t mind taking my last breath perhaps I will become a beautiful flower for awhile. I don’t even want to think anymore. Isn’t that deaths intention? To be thoughtless? Turn me off. Turn me on.


I am trying not to die outside of Rozarios. A random.man just asked me how I was doing tonight. I am unsure how sound came out of my body. I have had constant pain in my body for almost a month now. I’m sure even before then. I remember always having stomach issues. I would guess I am also severely dehydrated. Perhaps this is my end. Today is my last day ever as me. Huh. What a concept. What do I even say? I died happily unhappy. I mean if this was as good as it was to get I died happier than I had ever been in life prior. Sometimes I think it could be so easy. Just fade away into sleep and go somewhere else in another place and another time. I do not know how I am here in a world where obviously I don’t belong. It’s frustrating. It’s disheartening. I have been making goals since I realized I needed to stop fucking up. It has helped me grow as a person. I hate that I have hit a roadblock. It’s depressing. It’s heartbreaking. I think it’s just time to go. To complete this life cycle and pass onto another dream, so to speak. My body tells me it’s listening to my cries for mental rest. I will not survive this broken heart. I hate me, I hate life. Especially when I feel hate. I dislike hating. Which makes me angry. Life is mental. Shouldn’t I be left to create? They call it madness and I call it clarity.


I just reread my blog about the narcissist. It appears i have the same complaints and the same demands. I laughed at my foolishness. It makes for an interesting read. It seems so foreign to me now and honestly my deepest apologies to the narcissist. I am kind of unstable, aren’t I? Suddenly, I feel I am my own downfall. Loving too hard is probably a real thing. Overkill is destruction. Again, I hate me.


June 20, 2018 6:41pm Rozarios

We haven’t talked all day. Probably my fault as I skipped the morning kiss. In my defense though why does it matter? This is not my husband. He doesn’t want that and so why should he reap the rewards of it? I feel we are at the point of breakup. I no longer care to invest anything. What’s the point? Let’s be real about it. We have different future goals. No one is willing to sacrifice. I already sacrificed so much only to find out it was without merit. Pointless. It’s been a week since my acceptance notification. I no longer care about the rejection. In my head I’ve already moved on. This guy is not the guy for me. He doesn’t want what I want. It sucks but what am I supposed to do? It’s not like it is a secret, that is our intentions. I don’t expect him to change his mind anymore than he should expect me to change mine. At some point we will part and I hope it will go smooth. I have no hard feelings. So what if he doesn’t want me forever? It’s not the end of the world. There are other people out there. I can be more choosey knowing now what I deserve now that I have experienced a healthy relationship. It’s nobody’s fault it isn’t spectacular and we just need to adjust. Breakups are hard. We aren’t broken up yet but it feels like it. There is tension and distance but it’s too be expected in any rejection. I would have done anything for love but apparently love is somewhere else for me. His loss. I can’t feel bad about his choice. I respect them. I accept them. In all honesty he did me a favor as I don’t have to be there when he is dying. That’s a wife’s job and he doesnt want that. Someone people don’t, it happens. Life goes on. What I’ll do from here I am unsure. Definitely will be screening potential husbands for potential. I will set better boundaries. I’ll know upfront what is on the table. Unfortunately here I feel in love with a dying man who didn’t know he was dying at the time who has no intention of committing to anyone long term. It’s just like any other passing relationship, nothing special. Just wasting time. Just companions for awhile. I did my best. I offered everything from blow jobs to love letters to my forever devotion and somehow fell short. Somehow being alone is preferred over me. Maybe it will be like this for every relationship. Like, maybe it’s me. Maybe I am not destined for anyone. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised as I am hardly perfect. In the end it’s irrelevant.


June 27, 2018 Wednesday 833am work
Everyday I wake up thinking how I’m not good enough. I fall asleep with the same thought. In between rise and fall the thought plagues me just the same. I don’t understand why. I love with all my heart. Am I truly loving all the wrong men? Mentally it’s exhausting. Stuck between wanting to overcome and to just die and get it over with. It’s no one’s fault but my own that I cannot be loved the way I love. I have always been a romantic, always seeking for validation, always searching for my Prince Charming and no surprise, always ending up short. Everyone was “the one” until I asked for commitment. Until I asked for real love. Until they discovered I’m not good enough. I just don’t know where I fall short. What do others have that I don’t. Why waste more time in another relationship that is like all my other relationships? Aren’t they all the same as they are all the same disappointment? Nobody is special. I wanted him to be. I wanted to have him forever and ever but that’s not an option. I wanted to be his wife and him my husband. I wanted to exchange vows and swear my undying love in front of God, our families and friends. I wanted to be the one who cared for him in sickness and health. Always being at his side and never deserting him. It takes the fun out of love knowing it’s not reciprocated and that he doesn’t feel the same. That I’m just a fish in a sea of millions. That others have married him and failed to fulfill their obligations for forever. I wanted to do what they couldn’t. Apparently some people are not motivated by love, unlike me as that is what drives me. That is all I have ever wanted. Life is so cruel to deny me such a delicacy. It is mentally tolling knowing I am unworthy of such an honor. If he isn’t the one, is there even a one for me? Someone who wants me to be by their side forever rather than just to pass the time because it is convenient. I don’t know why I fall short of this honor and I am too afraid to ask. If it’s just simply because he has already been married twice that’s just dumb. What’s a third marriage then? I’m sure he said the same thing after the first. So what made the second wife so cool he married her whereas here I am willing to do anything and everything but am rejected. It’s not fair. It makes me question everything about life. It makes me wonder why I’m still here because it seems pointless. Just like every other pointless relationship I’ve had where the love is on their level. When will I demand love that I deserve? Im stuck between wanting to prevail and wanting to give up. What if this is as good as it gets? I am expected to stay through death and then I can resume life and seek out someone who is willing to make me their wife because they feel I’m special enough for that honor. Why not leave now and seek out that person sooner than later. I’m certain that someone out there can be my other half. I don’t understand why no one wants to. Am I truly that unworthy? It makes me sad. If I had known this I would have stayed on my path of death and destruction rather than receive false hope that I could be loved the way I want. I wished life insurance covered suicide as the decision would be much easier. I’d just avoid it all. Avoid the rejection. The inevitable death.

My Lover Returned

I went to my lovers and demanded to know what happened. As he explained I was appalled at my behavior. I was ashamed at what I was hearing. I didn’t even understand half of what he was saying that  I said. I believed him but it just sounded insane.

There was nowhere to hide. What a stupid idea to confront the situation. What the fuck was going on. It was the benzos. Those goddamn fucking benzos. I consumed over a hundred in a couple days. I assume now as I look back it is because I took myself off all my medication and things started falling apart slowly and suddenly I am left a psycho.

Seriously. That is what benzos do to a person. It is my addiction. I hate them. They make me a monster. But I don’t care when I crave death. I don’t care when I am looking for death. The monster demands the pain. The shame. Bring on all that can be in the storm so that I may have no reason to survive. Fuck that shit. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t. This was not cool. I sat there mortified. How is an apology any good at this point? Psycho cannot be undone. This cannot be unforgotten.

I can’t even believe that I asked to stay. The rejection would have shaken me into a different world. Perhaps it doesn’t have to be so hard to love. To keep him I would give up benzos. I don’t care if it’s a month, a day, an hour. I so thoroughly enjoy him. There is nothing more satisfying to my day than to be intertwined with him. That is all I must worry about. Nothing else matters to me. Just the sweet comfort of his body next to mine as I sleep.

I do not fear that I could not get another lover. I do not fear that I could never find another. I just fear that another would not fill the void he fills. That another lover would not make me feel as he makes me feels. I do not want another lover. I want him. I just want him. Of course I went fucking crazy. It only makes sense.  It is because it is him who soothes me. Him who scares me. Him who I so desperately want.

I even penned him a book and gave him the only copy like an idiot. Because I was not thinking. Because I am impulsive. Because I work magic when stressed or thinking the end is inevitable near. Because it seemed like a brilliant idea. Let’s just give the man everything inside me inked on paper. Great idea.  I shake my head at my own foolishness. I do not want him to go away. I don’t. If he must, he must and I will survive but it would be such a travesty.  He told me once he didn’t read books. I don’t know how I still find him as attractive as ever knowing that what I love most in life he doesn’t possess. Possibly why I felt the burning desire to not only present him a book but make the book about him.

Is it wrong to let someone know that they saved you? That they touched your very core? That they are a reason for your high steps or morning smiles. I don’t mind loving. I must love. I must express. I must make sure I do not die in the darkness without exposing my vulnerabilities to those deserving to know. He deserves to know he is cherished. I feel special to be naked beside him in the nights he allows me his comfort. It brings me such pleasure to pleasure him. Surely, an addiction. Surely one that I am unable to maintain in moderation. He is like crack. I just want more and more and he is never enough.

For many broken relationships have befallen us prior to this affair and to those broken we have formed our walls. I do not seek to find my way through them or around them. If a door shall open I shall be lucky. If I shall be banned on the outside I shall also name myself lucky. An honor it is just to love someone I find worthy of it. Accepting of it. Deserving of it. One who perhaps does not feel so loved or deserving.  One who has also accepted what I have accepted and that is why we alone stand together.

The stars do not offer me hope of everlasting compatibility but I am going to ignore them for once and just enjoy it without the ICHING. Often it does more damage than good. I shall just be still. Psycho already became of me and that shall never happen again. Ever.  I shall forgive myself this once. Somethings are known not to be repeated. This is known.

 

Found in a Draft of an Email 10 20ish

I thought I was the problem. I thought I wasn’t good enough. That maybe my love was too intense. Love i hadn’t even unleashed so i cant fathom that to be the real issue. It’s only talk that killed it im sure.  I thought maybe my lack of domestication skills was a factor in my lover’s  denial (Great for the book) but i just used it for the drama effect. I figured it out. Why he left me that is (for now). Truth can never hide from me. It’s my gift of the world.

It never occurred to me until earlier tonight in conversation with my former lover (not the ex) that it had nothing to do with me.  I had to call him. I needed to be reminded of how he veiws me as sweet and special and that if anyone didn’t want me that it was their problem not mine. That i was someone deserving if someone who could appreciate my loving. I declined his love offer. It’s not his soul I want to entwine with.

After my former lover expressed his jealousy over my current lover (I’m in denial since he is still contemplating the fact left me)- He offered to run away with me. Trouble is that despite our overwhelming chemistry I could never trust the guy. Even if he did get a book written about him and our love affair there is more to love then he can provide such as committment. I do know that if I didn’t have him to offer me reasons for my lovers  denial id be rather upset at this point.

Truth is, I know he is right. Anyone who wouldn’t want occasional blow jobs and love letters have issues that even i cant fix. The problem there though is i cant do it all the time which would make me a horrible girlfriend with TMJ  and carpeltunnel symptoms hence why im only available as a lover. That’s why any notion of committment as an excuse to leave me is ridiculous.

Sounds like this lover caught some feelings. Poor guy must not know blowjobs don’t just grow on trees and he should take full advantage of them. Love the blowjobs not the girl. I claimed from day one i wasnt meant for staying. But just don’t tell me IDK in response to my question of if ever ill touch him again. It’s not like I’m  unfuckable. I just prefer him at this junction. I’m a loyal lover. Im committed to only things I cant committ to. How ironic. Such as life and its glory for me.

After the conversation with my former lover about my current lover (again, still im in denial), i realize I’m an idiot. My attempts are futile. I have no business chasing any guy for blowjobs. (Okay truth is, it’s more then the blowjobs). If he had a boat possibly this would be a no brainer and id sleep in my life jacket jsut in case ibgey a 4am phone call but he does not so i am not instituting pajama changes.

Maybe he will find this and it will make sense and everything will be right again (doubtful) or Maybe he will take it wrong (likely)  but I have nothing to lose that hasn’t already been given up to lose. (My own way of self destruction I win)

This began as it has ended without reservations, at least for me anyways. The concussion and 100 benzos for the near death expierence monday didn’t reveal any of this. It only revealed fears of my anger and being a vindictive little bratty bitch. Saying shit to push away. I’m wise at this game. Boy stepped in feelings. Gotta end that.

Which that is a great reason to leave a lover, that being im crazy and thus im expendable. Although for the record I love people who appreciate human mistakes amd practice forgiveness during times of near death expierences. Much love to those who didn’t leave me, fire me, break up with me or unfriend me in the last 3o some years due to my impulsive recklessness behavior where I almost die but God keeps me here for a sick joke on either me or you i have yet to figure out.

Maybe i dont even care anymore and im getting closer as i continue thinking of how it went down via messaging. Again, this says nothing about me being the trapped in feelings as i believe id offer a face to face.
At least all my clothes are color coded, underwear is folded, skinny and fat clothes seperated and socks paired and matched. Never have i had a cleaner more organized closet. Also, I’m caught up on Hulu and netflix so im not desperate for things to do which honestly was why the last relationship went south. He had no netflix. Shallow I know. But at least I’m honest. More so when conherent.

Maybe he will take his head out of his ass, drop his insecurities, lose the feelings stop thinking and just enjoy the free blowjobs and cuddles. At the rate it’s going though the train is leaving and I certainly refuse to run after it. I will however blow kisses and wave happily like thanks for the ride as i write about him leaving on the wrong train.

In all fairness though, what’s the fucking problem?

I Wrote My Lover a Book

I havent slept in two days. Im manic. The only thing i can hear is the clicking of the clock. I wrote a book last night. Well, early this morning. It was a wonderful feeling until i realized i didnt make myself an extra copy. I dont know why i didnt. It was challenging which is why i went to work at 4 in the morning to use their equipment. It was my love affair of the last 5 months. Compiled in one binding, bounded together with actual journal entries or letters. Im an idiot. I know this. I didnt think about it much on my trip until i realized i dont have a copy. I found a lot of strength in releasing it as there really cant be any confusion now. Baggage i was able to drop off so easy. Like here is an unedited account of how incredible we were together and then because i just couldnt handle 100 benzos we had a fight or soemthing. I honestly dont remember. Im sick about the whole thing. Probably why i cant sleep. Im organizing things from paperclips, pushpins to dimes. I feel im nesting. Getting ready for when my body cant keep saving me. Im glad i wrote the book. Rather shared my insecurities and confessed my adoration for our passionate affair. Maybe its just me. Whatever. Im over it. Im over here arranging my pants by colors and my books by authors last name. Kidding on the last one. Seriously i like the idea of it being done. Maybe one day it can start again. Right now i shouldnt worry about it. Neither should he. I prolly shouldnt have given it to him. But well he cant go without knowing it all. I have no shame. I miss him. I miss a lot of people i dont get to be in their lives. I get by. Im excited to do another book. I have one in mind now. I should never have gotten involved with a lover. But i did. Now its over. I almost died. I have new goals and cant be distracted with him now. Love is not on my priority list at this juncture. But one day i hope to be reunited with him and if not i got 5 great months. And some really good writing material. He says he wants to be friends but well ive read those memes and they are kimd creepy. Like my ex. I dont want to be his friend. Why would i? So who knows whats going to happen. Im leaving it to the universe. Thats how the document came into existence. Maybe its the latuda. I need to sleep.