There Goes My Mind Again

Things I can’t say to my ex.

[when-its-too-much]

There it is, that innocent curiosity of the idea of this that we both share with one another in one way or another. I find myself inspecting for the potential faults of speaking into existence what we perceive. In this there is a wholeness that is uncomfortable in its own right. Allowing ourselves to challenge the spaces we occupy with a pull forward. One step, two steps… fifty steps and the pull just grows. I feel warmth and a lifting of my soul. Like spring and night and hot air balloon baskets. Fear of falling but enjoying the sky and seeing the world from this high. It’s a homecoming of a soul. Some of the broken pieces snapping into an unfamiliar comforting configuration. Uncomfortably comfortable…yet somehow the steadiness of that has lifted you up here with me. And I’m grateful.

[when-its-too-much]

I’m finding I have a need for consistency. And the difficulty around it is how deeply I fall for people who don’t have the capacity for it. It’s ironic right? If I want to be there for you let me. Don’t assume to be responsible for how I will feel when I put my energy into something. It’s better than allowing someone to be there for me. I make it completely one sided. I didn’t realize how easy it was for me to see futures that really weren’t there. And I put expectations on people that can’t meet them. And I’ve been really unfair in the relationships I do seem to build. I find I want to be wanted. But I don’t want what comes with it. I don’t want the overthinking and overwhelm of being responsible for someone else’s feelings. I haven’t found anyone who can be responsible for their own feelings and triggers. Not even I have the ability to see clearly through fogs and waves for emotionally charged thoughts. I wish I didn’t care.

[when-its-too-much]

Unfortunate thoughts of the day:

You show up at my house, barge your way into my door, grab me by my hair, pull my head back and kiss me hard.

Tell me you don’t miss me but miss my body. Run your tongue along my neck and grope me. Walking toward the bed.

Push me down onto my back, onto my bed and my whole body heats. I want it. Missing you wanting it.

And then you walk out. You just leave me there wanting you.

It’s quite bullshit. And inconvenient.

[when-its-too-much]

Every Word I Cannot Say

Not because the words aren't truth, but because the truth hurts and I never wanted to hurt you.

You were never going to be what I needed, and I was never going to be what you needed. And that is the hindsight 20/20 vision out of this.

I wonder when the feeling will go away that I might see you. Not because I want to see you but because it hurts to remember how disappointed we both were. I'm finally at a place where I remember how it felt without disparaging myself.

Time is a lesson to be learned and I've found myself in the midst of a hard earned lesson. You cannot love someone when you do not love yourself fully. I'm still learning and becoming someone I can respect and love.

We will never know how much we both tried to mend ourselves because we wanted loving one another to be enough. The idea of letting go to what we hoped we would be for each other was the effect. The cause was in who we were and who we were becoming.

I told your friend happy birthday today and got no reply. I wonder why but it doesn't really matter. She wasn't my friend no matter how much she wanted to be because I wouldn't let her get close to me. Another person I hid from.

I never needed you to be on my side. But the lack of understanding why I wasn't what you wanted in the moment split me. You wanted a version of me I couldn't be anymore. I grew.

I've never loved myself more than I did when I accepted that leaving you was the only option. It didn't feel like love at the time but it was. I had finally admitted to myself that I couldn't be what you wanted and I wasn't going to die inside to try.

Anyway..

[when-its-too-much]

I often think that my spiritual atheism is a testimony of my life experience. That the faith I have in myself is some proudly worn scar I run my fingers over when lonely. The symptom is that I question that faith daily. But to know that I am my own higher power, that I harness my own will, that I blame my own self, that I know my choices are my own seems like a powerful thing to me. There is no victim like someone who says “I didn’t pray to God enough”, “if I just went to church more then…”. Then what? Why not use that free will to simply love yourself more, spend time with your kids more, wish more, desire more, DO more? I don’t know how to put faith in anything else but myself. And maybe to some that is a flaw. But in my mind life has designed me this way, experience has carved into my skin, and I feel it all. Why instead of praying for peace or change can’t you just live life in such a way that breathes it into the air? I’m asking why again.

[when-its-too-much]

I find myself wide awake when the house is quiet. The pants I have on are making the backs of my knees sweat. The headache is back so I loose my hair from it’s tie. My lips are dry and I still have socks on. Unfortunately I do not want to move or bend at the waste.

I’ve got the Rolodex of chapstick locations in my mind. Bedside table, purse by the back door, kitchen cabinet, under the coffee table. I push myself off my back into a seated position on my bed. Staring into darkness, not the dark of the eyelids I can’t seem to shut. I run my tongue across my lips as my hands find the bottom of my sweatshirt.

There is an audible hmmph that releases from my mouth as I contort releasing my head and arms from the heat. And a light swishing sound as I throw my sweatshirt across the room, my back thudding down against the bed. My body is heavy as my mind it seems. I bring my feet to my chest and wriggle my thumbs into the heels of my socks. I’ll find where they landed in the morning. I lick my lips again.

The battle ensues, knees bent, to get water or to not get up at all. To find chapstick or to drink water. No I need Advil maybe? My eyelids shut to hide the rolling of eyes just to pop open against my wishes. I tug my shirt back down to cover my skin and release my knees, feet finding shelter from air under the blanket. My hands tug the blanket back up my body, ankles crossed, feet cricketing.

My skin is itchy and I’ve lost my vape in the blankets, oh how wonderful. Now my body will move. Pillaging through the blanket, hands feeling around the sheets, cursing myself under my breath. Fuck it’s exhausting. Found it! If I had it in me to shake my head or laugh this would be the perfect moment. My nails scratch at the itch on my chin and I take a puff.

My tongue runs across my lips again and all I can think is what it would mean to not be alone right now. To have someone else’s tongue wetting my lips. To have someone less lazy than me to fetch me water or advil or chapstick. But fuck all of that.

[when-its-too-much]

Why is consistency such a burden?

Why does calm prick the sides of my abdomen like this?

Why does comfort make me cry?

Why do warm thoughts create so many questions?

Why is it difficult to breath?

Why does my head ring when people are nice?

Why do I pick at my hands when I get compliments?

Why does attention feel like an affliction?

Why do I preform, for who?

Why does my skin crawl when receiving a hug?

Why am I okay with apologizing to everyone but me?

Why am I apologizing at all?

Why do I have to know why all the fucking time?

[when-its-too-much]

Reasons why I am not enough

Not because you said it

Not because it was true

Because I felt it

Because I believed it

Because I told myself everyday that I wasn't trying hard enough, pushing the walls of my boundaries far enough, sinking into myself deep enough, withering away into nothing for long enough, stretching myself thin enough, loving myself enough.

I don't love myself enough... That doesn't equate to not being enough.

If it wasn't enough, if my love wasn't suffocating enough, it's because id lost that it would even matter at the end of us.

It doesn't matter now. And it didn't then.

I'm starting to realize that the way I love is not for everyone. The time I have is not going to be doable for everyone. That I'm okay being alone.

[when-its-too-much]

Things my sister said

Protect yourself and stop defending people like they are saints. You see the best in people to a fault.

Use I statements not, You statements. Men don't like being told they are the problem. They shut down.

Go home and write said I statements. Find out what you actually want.

If they hid it from you, it wasn't to protect you, it was to keep you where you are at. He didn't give you the choice.

There you go again defending character instead of seeing the situation for what it is.

If I told you that I was dating someone that constantly made me feel like I wasn't enough don't you think you'd be critical too?

Girl, i've been there, i've done all of this, i've seen it all play out. Situationships, relationships, casual sex. Trust me.

Don't you think you've had enough of herding your feelings into a box to protect other people's feelings?

I hope I didn't say anything that made you mad at me, or feel a certain way. I'm not being negative just honest.

[when-its-too-much]

I saw you in your car today, driving through traffic in your asshole in a hurry way you do. My stomach flipped into my throat remembering that for you I wasn’t enough. And for a few seconds the first year of our relationship popped like balloons in my mind. I wasn’t enough even then - right? My brain tried to rationalize that it was just you needed too much.

I sometimes think I should be sorry. But I can’t be anymore. I’ve let that self wallowing pity break me too many times. I’ll remind myself to take a long walk when I get home tonight. Let my breathing become desperate until my chest hurts and my shirt is wet from sweat.

That’s what I do now when I start remembering the way I’d felt in our relationship. I move my body, punishingly. Until my shin splints and leg cramps and sore feet help me let go of the negativity.

If anyone asked a few weeks ago how I’d felt, it was rage. Every time I remembered the way you made me feel I let myself hate you for it. Hoping you’d somehow feel a change in the air. Hotter, faster, less forgiving. I was really just hiding under fury to keep me from hating myself.

I’m past that part of grief now. I’ve moved to acceptance. Accepting that you were hurt too. Accepting it was okay to hurt and rage and cry. And then I stopped crying. I stopped feeling bad for you. I stopped hating who I was around you.

I’m becoming me again.

[when-its-too-much]

I don’t want to cover your grief.

I don’t wish to take it away.

You need to feel it

Process it.

Find a way past it on your own.

[when-its-too-much]

“I don’t know is not enough”

That’s the last I heard from you

It feel like years have passed

Like I’ve aged 2 decades in seconds

I didn’t have an answer

At least not the one you were

Looking for

[when-its-too-much]

Staring at my phone. That’s all I can do now. Took a shower but it just made me cry again. What is this world I’m in? This pain I’m living with? I’m a sucker for you and I’m sure that’s not enough. And I’m not winning. I’ve lost my hope. My head spinning out of control. And if this where you leave me then I’ll shut off and never start again. This feels like goodbye. For the last time.

[when-its-too-much]

I found the mini golf score card from one of our first year dates. We stopped dating. Stopped trying. And here I am remember what it was like when we were good. I pulled away. I recognize that. Once the honeymooner excited washed away…. Guess I’m throwing it away.

[when-its-too-much]

58,160 messages. Our entire relationship deleted in one swipe. 3,922 calls. All those times I heard your voice gone. Erased you from my phone hoping it would keep me from reaching out. You want to move on. What the fuck right do I have to keep you here. I guess life goes on. I haven’t checked my photo reel. Afraid of seeing your face appear next to me. It’s fine. Maybe in another lifetime yeah?

[when-its-too-much]

I wrote this after we first got together. Prophetic. I should have never stopped therapy.

“I’m so tired of thinking about when it will end, change, evolve, when I will change and start being quiet, faking, losing myself just to keep you on the ground”.

[when-its-too-much]

I reached out after spending hours crying. Trying to get passed the feeling. Feel it and move on. Feel it and let it go. Feel it and do something else. Sit with it, Occupy, distract, shower, show… It seems I’m not as in control as I anticipated I’d be. My will power is leaking and the weakness is exposing itself. You were the person I’d let in. The person who knows me. My person. The one I talk to when I’m upset. I stopped doing that. I stopped letting you in. I let you go. I have just emptiness left. You kept reminding me “I told you to reach out if you needed to talk”. That crushed me. You are always so devotedly there for me. And I crushed it. I broke you. I lost you. I hurt you. I can’t forgive myself for that. Not again. It’s a selfish idea that I’d allow myself the comfort of your voice again. The comfort of knowing you will always be there. It’s fucked up. And I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve that kind of love from you.