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We don't have the best of relationships, my vagina and I.
There's so much pain and ugliness that it has endured that sometimes to think of looking at it or touching it makes me feel ill. But that's not its fault. It didn't deserve this.
You'd think that with the hells it has been through, it would just close up. You'd think that it would be unable to feel anything but those pains, but...
It's resilient, my vagina. I can't believe how damn much it can feel. Love, pain, lust, caring, giving, taking, wonder. I'm finally learning to love it.
Woah. That was a heck of a night.
I'm glad I could be there for them. I'm glad that there is finally safety enough for them. I wish I could do more.
It was a little strange to watch them go through some of the kinds of things that we have experienced. The switches and control issues and acting out. It's strange to me. There's some distance there; I've never really realized what it would look like from the outside.
They aren't the only ones with fewer walls. They are having an effect on us, too. We feel safer, too.
Connection calling connection.
Stirring. Stirring in me and through me and around me. Bubbling and stirring.
The energy was white, pure, joy light and radiating out, out, shining.
He said he could see it, feel it, an overwhelming feeling from halfway across the room.
So clear. Everything was sharp and so plain. All as it should be. Trust.
Communing with Her. She never left me. It has all been prologue. It has all been past. It is. Is. Will be.
I couldn't hold it all. The joy of Her. The understanding without understanding. But a seed remains.
I missed him so much. He so often doubts himself. And yet, whenever we connect, really connect, he sees things in me, touches things in me that I didn't even know were there.
I had intended to be there for him. I knew that he was scared, burdened by old hurts, and I wanted to give and heal and love him through it. And then he dropped his barriers and reached out for me and really SAW me and made me see myself and I cried and shook and understood.
Then the urgency was gone. And trust remains.
I wanted to do it. I wanted to be open. I wanted to go ahead and cry. But I couldn't do it. I'm crying now.
Oh, I cried when Ruth read "I Was There In The Room". I can cry and cry about the trauma of the hospital, of what was taken from me and my son. But I couldn't cry purely for me/us. I walked around the rest of the night not being able to get my walls down.
The Vagina Monologues is an important work. But I still feel voiceless. Still feel silenced on the most important thing.
didn't want to. had to. shut down. turn off.
(what does faith and openness get me anyhow?)
some part of me knows that it will come back. right now, though, i don't believe anything. i hope She will understand.
(pain. searing aching pain. and emptiness aching. it was. now numb. i hit the wall until my hand swelled and i didn't feel it in my chest anymore. i could have dealt better, except for rose being so nearby.)
i don't know don't know if i'll stay. get drunk and watch angel. that's all the plan i have so far.
Reading Weetzie Bat and Witch Baby... Crying, crying.
He won't come here. I won't look up and see those deep, dark, bright eyes across the room, staring into my soul.
He won't be there when I get home, either. I won't look out the window and see his silhouette through the curtains, achingly wonderful.
If I had a genie-lamp, I would wish all the demons away and for him to have nothing but angels the rest of his life, and I would wish to be one of them.
Love may be a dangerous angel, but it's the most beautiful, too.
every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try to make things better i make things worse. every time i try...
There's just something about Pandora. Every time I go there I come home psychically overwhelmed. I think I like going there partially because it makes me practice these skills.
I feel my energy waning now, and I will need some serious rest after the last week, but I feel it's all moving in a positive direction. I have my faith again.
I am thankful that they were able to let me in just that little bit. I am so incredibly relieved. What's most important to me is their well-being (though I am also glad to know everything's not just over).
I'm so tired. I guess that I/we have been going in high gear for over a month now. I didn't realize just how much energy we've been expending. I'm glad I/we went to see Pam. She helped put it all in perspective. I realize now that if we didn't force ourselves to slow down, take a break, that pretty soon our body would force the issue.
I guess I just want to get through things as fast as possible. I want to live, NOW. I don't want to be gentle, don't want to wait if I don't have to.
You seemed very different today, softer somehow (more feminine?). Who are you, Enigma? ("I'm not really anybody...") You should know better than to present me with a puzzle. I have a funny feeling that you're aware of doing so, too.
I'm pretty sure I don't "know all the facts" and shouldn't get into a "sense of urgency." It's gotten me into trouble so far.
I'm not sure I actually agree that today was "not as good for us." More cautious, yes. But I have a feeling that there is, perhaps, a good reason for that beyond walls and energy troubles.
"I think I might just blow your poor house down... I know you've been hiding there too long..."
And yet, and yet... It's not really up to me, is it? If I try to blow it down, you could just hide in the rubble. I can't force anyone into the light of day. And who's to say that you're not right? Who's to say that you're ready for that light? Me? No. Sometimes I get blinded. Sometimes I see things that aren't there. I do. Even perceptive people can be wrong.
Maybe you're not even hiding. Maybe it's something else.
Decision. I think...
Not that we're all comfortable with it, but what we'd be leaving behind would not be acceptable. No, not acceptable at all.
I didn't want this fight, and still don't, but I don't think I can run. I'd, we'd, lose too much. We might lose anyway, but it would be taken from us, not just given up.
There's a lot of fear I'm feeling, and some of it is mine. I can't allow us to continue the pattern, though. We can't just drop everything whenever we get threatened and start over. We'll never build anything that way.
"Do you want me to back off?"
(Oh, god, no. That's the last thing I want.)
You take my hand. I'm shaking.
(I don't feel safe. I feel completely vulnerable.)
"Nothing is going to hurt you."
(It already hurts.)
I'm still shaking.
"Just concentrate on this." You squeeze my hand.
"That's really hard"
"I'm not going anywhere. This is me you're touching."
So I stop, and I concentrate. And I feel it. It is you. I stop shaking.
On the way home it's an awkward silence. You take my hand again and, incredibly, it's not awkward anymore.
Pressure. Stress. Deadlines. Work. Exhaustion. Demands.
I'm having a really hard time. Chiron is so needy and I am so spent. Jason is under deadlines and has way too much work to really handle it all.
I'm having trouble staying present. There are a lot of internal system pressures, people trying to take over, destructive patterns. I feel called on for all my strength and I am running out.
I feel so walled off from everything. I can't even really express this in an eloquent way. I just want to rest, but I can't. So many are depending on me.
i haven't been out in a while and just being in the body today showed me why. bel can block it out, but there's so much pain and tension. bodan almost offered me a neck massage, but that was too weird for chris. man, we could really use it, though. so damned tense!
it was cool to hang out with them, but also frustrating. still waiting on talking to my mystery cutie. i'm not so good at doing this patience thing. of course, i can be responsible, but patience is way more difficult.
"in due time." yeah, yeah. i know.
We were never really friends. In fact, we almost always disagreed... but still, I find myself aching for their loss.
We've been through some pretty tough things in this life. Loss. Pain. And so much grief. But... I find myself wanting to cry with thankfulness for what I have.
"There are no good words," I said in my email, and there really aren't. My sympathy can do very little. But... I do care. Without regard for what our two systems' relationship has been like, I ache for what they (and their husband) have lost. All I can give are prayers.
Wow. I know that I'm ecstatic, but it happened so fast that I'm stunned.
He has a way of doing that... not that I'm complaining.
I can't stop smiling. I missed him so much! And the most amazing thing is that it's not awkward at all.
Scared, too, a little bit. He said, "I'll find myself, and I hope that I'll find myself in you." That was both wonderful and scary. I don't know where this is going. I am really vulnerable when it comes to him, but I'm not going to run. I'll follow where ever it takes us.
It was really great to just hang out with people tonight. After being so isolated for so long, sometimes I forget just how much of a 'people person' I am.
I kind of wish that I had gotten more time with Chris, but then again, maybe it's better if we don't overanalyze. Being together feels fun and right.
I'm glad that Chris got Bundy's number. I'd like to talk to him again sometime. Ask him what he writes. It would be cool to have a writer friend. And Ansley is just fucking kick ass.
Wow. Maybe I'll have friends again.
I feel so much right now. It feels inexpressible.
I knew. You didn't have to tell me. I knew. I know that's not all you were feeling, but I knew that you were feeling that. I felt it, too. I wanted... so much. I could have just fallen into you.
This is probably better. I think. In a lot of ways I'm as lost as you are. I don't know what's the 'right thing'. I know what I feel. I know what I want. But that's all I know.
You already have everything. The question is, do you want it?
I have to write 100 words. I just wrote 660. It was draining and I don't really want to write anymore. That poem was some of my darkest self-doubt and it's hard to go into that. Others are telling me, though I only hear them faintly right now, that it's good and honest and that I'll be stronger for it, but I don't want to hear it. I'm so tired.
The movie was good. It's how I feel. What I really believe about the way things really are and how they should be, but I can't believe anything right now.
I really hope that wasn't a mistake.
It doesn't feel like a mistake, but I know how difficult this is for him.
He made the choice, though. I told him that I loved him, that I was terrified that I would lose him for moving too fast. He told me there was no way he would let that happen. He said... that he refuses to run anymore.
I guess I'll just have to trust him.
(but I swear I heard him, in the midst of moans that sounded almost like sobs, repeating, so quiet, "I love you, I love you.")
You told her that you didn't know why I love you.
You do make me laugh. You get me outside of myself.
You listen to my pain (which is more important than you seem to appreciate).
You make me feel seen. Not only that, you see me as beautiful and help me believe.
Deeper... I see myself mirrored in you. Not being alone helps make me less afraid of myself.
Deeper still... something inexpressible, What we share when we touch with the barriers down. I feel you then, and you are so beautiful.
It's okay if you can't believe me.
I wasn't lying when I said that, in ways I didn't know I needed to, I am finding myself in you.
It's not entirely comfortable.
All my struggles, all my wounds, I see them, feel them. Don't feel bad. Really, don't. It's hard for me, but I know that it's healthy. You can't heal this kind of pain until you feel it.
I feel raw. So very vulnerable. But I know I'm not alone in that. I know you understand. And that makes it okay. It's helping me more than you know just to not be alone.
(I love you.)
i want a turntable. i want to learn to spin. i wonder if i could be good at it. it's a creative outlet i really want to explore.
i've said that i can't rap, but i think i'm just afraid i wouldn't be any good at it. i've never really tried. i don't think i could be spontaneous about it, just making shit up on the spot, but that doesn't mean i couldn't do ones that i wrote. i'm sure that not all the artists i admire are able to freestyle.
i don't know. i guess i'm feeling creatively stifled.
tripped on the last stair while I was carrying a basket of laundry and twisted my ankle. i hope i'm going to be okay at the zoo tomorrow.
i waited all day for our phone to get here. it should've been here wednesday. and, to top it off, it had the wrong battery. so i had to go to a store to get it replaced. waited, on my feet, for half an hour. saleslady was soooooo stupid.
then i got in a fight with jason. sometimes i think i just shouldn't talk because it seems to upset people.
It's almost 6 a.m., and I'm writing this before I sleep.
Every time I see him, I end up overwhelmed. Not a bad thing, but tiring.
You would think that I'd be the one in control of this, but you would be wrong. I may be years older, but I'm so close to being totally at his mercy. The only power I have is to pull away, which is oh-so-difficult. He touches me and I open up, become vulnerable. I long to fall and fall and fall.
But I have to hold on. I can't fall unless we fall together.
I had an amazing breakthrough tonight. It's so stupidly simple that I can't believe that it's taken me this long to realize.
I was singing in the car, and I really opened myself up. I just stopped THINKING so damn much about singing and let go. And let it happen, instead of trying to DO it. Stopped thinking about the words, my breathing, the notes, stopped thinking of it as being any kind of difficult.
Singing is spiritual. Not mechanical, physical, or mental. Spiritual. I let it happen through me.
I sang like I never have before. With my soul.
"If you feel like there can never be anything but pain, if it's so hopeless, then what are you doing here, with me? Why are we doing this?"
"Because... I want to be happy."
(at last... an admission of desire...)
Just don't give up on me yet. Please.
I know you feel powerless. I know you feel if you let me in, you'll lose what little control you have. What you don't seem to understand is I'm already so very helpless when it comes to you.
You never did tell me what it is you are really afraid of happening.
My boyfriend is really hot. He shaved his head yesterday. It suits him. Suddenly there's nothing distracting me from his amazing eyes with their long lashes, or his full, expressive lips. Mmmm.
That's not what really turns me on about him, though. It's in the way he looks at me, and knows how much he's turning me on, the way he knows just where to touch for maximum impact, and, more than that, it's that he knows when not to touch, to build anticipation.
He may not like to admit it, but he has a confidence that is really sexy.
I think I was getting too much of the remedy. I do feel better today. More energetic, less confuzzled, happier.
We gave notice on our place today. Got to be out of here by June 1st. I'd better get moving on finding a new place.
I'm glad to be moving. St. Louis Park sucks. Being so far away from Chris sucks. Jason's daily commute to school sucks. I hope we can find an affordable duplex with a yard. Near a park would be nice. Especially Loring Park.
So, that's my month. Hope I can keep up with all this writing.
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