Happy

I’m not sure I’ll ever be as happy as I know I could be.

I feel that I can take my life in two directions.

The First:  The White Picket Deal

In this scenario, I would get a husband, my cute little fixer upper, a part of the gentrification of a neighborhood,the three kids (hopefully at least one girl) that I so desperately crave.  This is what I’ve wanted since I was little.  I would play house and have babies and have this life.  This superficially happy, picturesque life.  I’ve questioned this desire during some points of my life, but it always seems to come back to this.   Maybe if some things in past relationships had not happened, it wouldn’t be so, but they did.  And this is what I want.  I want this unit of familial love, unconditional and accepting.  I yearn for comfort, comfort that I feel lay here.

The Problem with White Picket

I don’t think I can find anyone I love enough to marry.  In order to go this direction I feel I would have to settle.  I’m deathly afraid of settling, but I’m almost certain I will.  I don’t feel I love or that I love with enough depth if I do.  I don’t want to get divorced.  I don’t want to fail.  I feel that if I was in an unhappy relationship, I would become engulfed in depression.

The Second:  Egocentric

In this scenario I say screw men.  Screw men in the sense that I won’t engage in relationships with them.  Screw men in the sense that screwing will become my only purpose for them.  God knows I’m emotionally detached from sex enough.  I seem to have an oxytocin problem, be it physical or psychological it’s there.  I’d focus on my career, which would in this scenario be some discipline of anthropology, which requires a lot of school and effort, and travel, but it won’t matter, as it will only be me.  I’d have cats.  I love cats.  Clearly, this is destiny.

The Problem with Egocentrism

I’d be alone.  I wouldn’t get the family I fantasize about.  I would be unhappy.  I might be fulfilled in my career, but that isn’t fulfilling for a life.

What it boils down to:  Someone, please, sweep me off my feet.

Speak

I tell people I’d rather have them tell me everything, lay it all out on the table. I want complete honesty. I don’t care how bad it sounds, I just want to know. It isn’t fair to keep things yourself. I’ve had to admit a lot of things to myself that I would rather not think about. I could have gone on pretending, but the truth is the only freedom that can actually be had, even if it hurts. I want honesty because it is the only way I can look myself in the face and I can only expect that same honesty from everyone else. Just speak.

sometimes

Sometimes I think the people I talk to would be better off if they googled some of the things I say to them.

Follow You Into the Dark

I followed you into the dark.  You abandoned me here and I’m left with no means of escape.   All I can hear are my heartbeats, my long shaking breaths, and the jeers of the darkness around me.  I want to escape.  I yearn for the light, but every time I think I near the exit of this nightmare, I trip and lose my way.  The darkness holds me captive. At times, I want to succumb, to fade away into its depths, but my fear of delving even more into the unknown forces me to stay.

Refrain

Stop being the air I breathe,

Refrain from casting your spell.

Illusive

You are the water running through my fingers,

So illusive,

So unattainable.

Your lack of viscosity,

All fluidity,

Allows you to thwart my every attempt to capture you,

To make you mine.

You are the ripple that runs through me,

Making me think,

for once.

You are the condundrum.

You are the chaos.

You haunt my mind, my being, my essence.

Hiding

Life and love are war, yet there is no cover here.  There is no escape, there is always only the crowd.  I wear my iPod as a badge.  It ensures no one says a word to me, but I’m not listening to any music, it would only drag me further away from the surface, further away from where there is air.  As a dog crawls away to die, I nestle myself in a nook of the building I believe to be unoccupied.  If the shaking and hyperventilating takes over, I need to be alone. 

No one notices the decline.  There is only one person that would even be able and he does not care to look.  Of the thousands of people I see in a day, of the hundreds I have available to talk to,  he is my only confidante.  I always seem to make poor investments. 

And I am scared.  I can admit to what has happened, but despite my attempts to keep my last bad decision at bay, he continues to crop up.  I have made countless attempts, but he can’t seem to keep his promise of obeying my wishes.  He asks why I would even be upset, why I can’t be his friend.  It’s like he doesn’t know the damage he has done.  Maybe he doesn’t.  He asks, and I’m scared to tell him.   The idea of it sends shivers up my spine.   And I honestly don’t think he’s done it to anyone else,  for some reason, it was just me.  I don’t know what I did to deserve it or provoke it. 

 And I’m addicted.  I can’t stop using social networking sites to see what he is doing and how his relationship with his new “toy” appears to be doing.  They seem happy.  And it pisses me off.

And I’m lonely.  I’m cold and I’m broken.  I want to be reached out to, but I’m too good at the facade I’ve spent 5 years constructing.  I’m drowing in self-despair, but I still manage the sarcastic wit and girlish giggles people have come to associate me with.  I don’t even want to tell the one person that knows enough for me to be comfortable discussing such things with as I don’t want to depend on him.  I don’t want to depend.  I want to be fine.   Alas, I shall continue to suffer silently, alone.

But I’m scared of ending up alone.

Different Planes

Are you there or am I in this tumultous world alone?  I can reach out for you, but it seems you fall slightly beyond my grasp.  Are you really there or is your existance just a momentary convergence of planes?

Nightlight

I like that when you let me in,

I like that when you open up your mind to me,

It is an ethereal darkness.

Not unlike my own,

The darkness seems to overtake,

But then there is a flicker.

There is a nightlight.

It isn’t bright, but there is time enough for a glance.

Longing

I want long talks

and late nights.

It might make me hate myself,

but I miss you.