seen from Bulgaria
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my gender is a shadow
me and Gender are very loosely tethered together.
Some days we walk side by side, hand in hand.
Some days its like a ball and chain dragged ten feet behind me, a drifting shadow that still follows me.
Some days we crash together and work as one.
Unwise decisions Covered by wise ones Cause a heartache Only the conflicted can understand
"This is my diary! Dave got it from the anime stuff store."
Navel Gazing Log: Thursday, October 6, 2022. 12:28 AM.
I've been a "sexual" being for so long. But also repressed, and muffled. I think I've made myself psychologically dependent on sex and masturbation, without ever letting myself enjoy it. I can't recall when I started touching myself, I only know that it started a long time ago. Shame and anxiety over being "sinful" have tormented me ever since. I know now that my sexuality should be something positive to embrace, something that should empower and uplift me (at least I recognize the idea of this. In theory). But old habits die hard.
I once found a motivational quote card hidden on my old college campus that said something along the lines of "your only limit is yourself." I wanted to understand what it meant, so I carried it in the back of my phone case for the longest time. I thought I never really connected to it (I mean I have so many limits, and a lot of them are not just me-related), so I ended up giving the card to my mom (she likes motivational quotes--I wasn't trying to send her some bitchy subliminal message about how she needs to be better). She gave it back to me eventually. I didn't understand why at the time, but I guess she saw something in me that I didn't see yet.
I'm willing to admit now how much I limit myself. How much I have limited myself for my entire life. I guess admitting it is the first step. I just don't know where to go from here.
Not all of this is about sex by the way. Just some of it. The moon is out and bright tonight, so I'm feeling risque.
Growing up is definitely not the best, but it appears to me that it's not as bad as I thought it was back then. I was just afraid of change. I've figured out that I'm the type of person who likes to hold on to things and has a hard time letting them go. However, I've realized that I have to move forward because that is what life is about—moving forward.
Reminiscing about my childhood is definitely something I often do, possibly because I have a huge attachment to it. That's because I know how genuinely happy I was during that time of my life. I've always wanted to go back and relive those wholesome memories. If there were a way of going back, I would immediately do it. But we all know that's nearly impossible. I could never go back, and that's just how it is.
As I mentioned earlier, I have a problem with letting things go. It's not easy once you start feeling that everything is slowly changing. Like when people are leaving, when you grow out of the things you used to enjoy the most, and when you realize that you can't go back to your old ways anymore because you're so near to adulthood. Adjusting will never be easy. It was scary to go through all of that because little me never expected that the people I was always surrounded with before would no longer be there. Little me didn't know that I'd get tired of the things I used to be so passionate about. Little me didn't know that growing up is this challenging.
I did learn to adapt, even though it took me a while. I slowly started to learn to accept how things are and how they will be. I can't control everything, but that doesn't mean everything sucks now. Even though I lost some of the people I love, there are new ones that entered my life. I will be forever grateful to them and even to the ones that have left. I'm still here to support them from afar; I will always root for them no matter what.
It's okay that I grew out of some of the things I used to love because I'm now into new things. Trying new things is good, and it's going to help me grow as a person. Because of growing up, I was able to figure out what I actually want to do. I learned new things about myself, and even if I had to learn all of this the hard way, I know that it's all going to be worth it in the end.
I'm still young, and I will evolve into a different person as time goes by. But this time, I'm not that scared anymore. I'm now looking forward to where life will take me next. I'm hoping for the best.
What is love?
Is it a sacrifice? But then, is it mine or yours? It should be a constant give and take but all I seem to notice is your constant taking, the disappearances, the emptiness of what is me. I give all that I am but recieve none of you in return.
Is it caring? But do I care for myself or you? My forever bleeding heart must be hidden lest I bleed too much and disappear yet your clothes are eternally white until I stain them with my life. Oh how I wish to be stained with you.
Is it acceptance? Glossing over your flaws but constant progress must be made for me to be better. Am I still the one you want even after all the changes, the improvements, the removal, of things that make me who I am? Yet you remain steadfast in yourself as an icon of what you're meant to be.
Is it communication? The back and forth conversations and long distance that I must always keep up but if you fall behind, I must think of how busy you are and how hard you work. We admit there is something missing but I see many things missed.
Is it effort? The time I take and energy I expend to make this work for as long as I can yet you still demand more. And when your very words are turned around, its unnecessarily harsh and I must stop my numerous demands.
Is it intimacy? Must I eternally succumb to your desires and impale my heart for you to feel at peace? Our versions don't differ by much but even in your arms I feel the canyon of misunderstandings between us. What difference is force or coersion when they both end in tears?
Or is it me? Am I the reason this has gone for so long? Am I holding onto fragments or is there a foundation? I want to feel loved but I also feel pain. Can one exist without the other or were we doomed from the start?
I really don't know what I look like. I look in the mirror and I see someone who needs to lose weight and work out and eat healthy. Someone unattractive in a lot of ways. And sometimes people tell me otherwise, but I see myself everyday. I know my body better. Don't I? There's no way I could imagine the stomach rolling over the jeans, or the arm that jiggles when I point at something. That's real. So I keep pressing forward.
I just want to run my fingers over your skin like I do an old piano ready to be played. I want my lips to brush yours like how a paint brush lightly sweeps against a canvas. Your eyes remind me of a bright blue vast of ocean, always being explored by my forest of green eyes. Press yourself up against me and let me feel your lungs breathe and fill your heart with your beauty.
