Tag Archives: love

Victim of Vulnerability

I am the victim of vulnerability.

Co-dependency crippled me all those years ago.  I carry a scar so long, so deep that I can feel the rippling skin tightening without thought.  So calloused and yet paper-thin.

It’s hard to move forward with such a scar.  But I try.

And recently, I’ve managed to build this rickety relationship with someone who cares; but like a birdhouse made in a high school shop class, it doesn’t show much proficiency.  It sort of leans to one side and the pieces don’t quite match.

But somehow it manages to keep the rain off the birds’ feathers when it storms.

Despite this precarious creation and it’s deepening intimacy, I find myself unable to say what I think is expected.

It’s like dirt in the throat.

Sand in the mouth.

Broken glass along the tongue.

That fear bubbles up and locks my tongue so neatly whenever I have that moment.  And the moment happens more and more. It’s almost casual now.

When he’ll go out of his way to check on me when I’ve been my quiet, reclusive self.

When he knows what joke to make to get me to smile.

When runs his fingers through my hair in that slow, gentle way I like.

When he makes sure he can be there during my upcoming surgery.

I lov-

I want to say it.  I do.  But that fear, that victim mindset leaps to attention.
It hisses-snarls-screams at me…

Do not give him that power.

No one ever deserves that knowledge, that ability to damage you so completely.  No one does ever again.

Remember what happened last time.

The one time I tried handing my heart over.  I tried full, unconditional trust.

Unconditional trust is overrated.

Unconditional trust is what turned me into the victim.

Conditions are safe.

I stare at that birdhouse I’ve created, and part of me wants so badly to sand it, varnish it, paint it.  Make it something of beauty that will last a long time.

But that victim-voice reminds me that it will only make the pain sharper when the birdhouse finally does crumble.

And it will crumble.

Meanings

(slight trigger warning for brief mention of sex and intimacy)

After having two almost entirely meaningless and vapid posts I am mad at myself.  I really need to stop dodging my issues and get them down. 

This is a safe space.  Safe space.

Yeah, I’m gonna compare myself to a fictional character instead.

I doubt most of you have heard of the show “The Girls”.  I stumbled across it on Netflix while I was sick with pneumonia and watched all of season 1 within 3 days.

It’s about four girlfriends in New York who are in their early to mid twenties and have no effing clue what to do with their lives.

I wish I could say I identify with the chic yet bohemian Jessa, who I like the most out of the four girls.  But I know it’s Hannah.

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I’ve even made that exact expression.  At work.  It’s uncanny.

She has body image issues.  I have body image issues.  She’s a compulsive writer.  I’m a compulsive writer.  
Now she’s also way too attached to her (entirely normal) parents and can’t keep a job to save her life, but that’s not important.

The main thing is her weird relationship with this guy named Adam.  They have this fuck-buddy-type thing, not officially dating, and mostly based on sex.

Wow.

That sounds familiar.

Now, Hannah attempts to break it off with Adam but then realizes she doesn’t really want a boyfriend anyway.  She sort of likes what she has with Adam anyway.

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Wow.  I swear I’ve said those exact words to my best friend too.  It’s ridiculously creepy.

When she confronts Adam about how he’s been a shitbag lately, he is distant at first, then they have this weird fight in the middle of street and he screams: “Do you want me to be your fucking boyfriend??!!”

And then they’re good again.  And it goes well.  They hang out occasionally.  Adam prefers to be as close to naked as possible. 
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Him wearing full pants is actually a rarity, but I didn’t want to scar your eyes.

They have slightly adorable couple-ish moments.
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He pees on her in the shower because he thinks it’d be funny.  She is not amused. 
(thank god I’ve never had that happen- I would likely mutilate Army)  I’m not sure why I included this incident in my description of their relationship.  I guess I meant to show their level of comfort and humor with each other.

Then she balks when he confesses his love for her.  Now, granted, the character was distantly apathetic and a tad Aspie-eqse up until the last two episodes where he got weirdly clingy.  So Hannah’s understandably weirded out.
________________

Now, Army never says the “L” word.  Ever. 

But last night was….the closest he’s gotten. 
And I’m trying to not balk.  Not run.  Tell myself it doesn’t change anything.  It doesn’t have to change anything.  It doesn’t have to mean anything.
It doesn’t.

I don’t know what I want. 

Why am I so broken that confessions of deep emotional and attachment make me want to turn tail and bolt?  Or self-sabotage like a crazy bitch.

I hate being broken.

Pretending I’m like this fictional character of a moderately-successful show makes me feel slightly better.

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Lost heart

I’m not sure where my heart is at the moment.  I feel hollow and empty and uncaring.  I know my last post made it seem like I was struggling with the whole “fuck Army” thing, but I’m not.  It makes me feel pretty bitchy and heartless to not even dwell on him once I’ve formally decided we’re through. 

I really haven’t been able to find it within myself to really care a lot about life on any sort of deeper level in a long time.

I think I may have left my heart somewhere.

My theory is either Chicago or Kentucky.

______________________________

Chicago is my home town, where the majority of my family is, where I spent all my summers and holidays up until two years ago. 
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I love this place more than I think most of me realizes.

I miss the museums, I miss the stores, I miss the plays, I miss the food, I miss the people.  I even miss the train a little bit.

I lean my forehead against the cool window and watch the lights of buildings flash past in the night.  It’s late- one of the last trains back to my grandparents’ house.  The day was long but enjoyable.  Germany sits in the seat across from me.  The cramped nature of the train has our knees brushing, but we’ve been friends long enough that it doesn’t faze us.  She grins at me. She isn’t normally so into exploring a city at random, but we managed to find a bit of everything that we’d both enjoy.  Tomorrow we plan on going to Six Flags, where she will be the first person to get me to ride a roller coaster and enjoy it.  I know I am always safe with Germany.  And happy.  She makes my heart full.  We make a pact to be friends forever.

I never thought distance would feel so far.

______________________________

But Kentucky…
Kentucky is the complete opposite.  I have no family down their. 
Except Katherine’s.  Her whole family is from Kentucky.  They became my family for 5 years when we would drive down their at least once a month, if not every other weekend.

There’s no culture really, no shopping (Wal-mart doesn’t count), no trains (for people), no plays.

But the food is homemade, mostly from scratch, and amazing.  It’s where I had my first illicit taste of alcohol. 
It’s where I learned to just hear nature breath.

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I got to wake up and walk outside to this every single day I was down there.

Everyone was so sweet to me, despite me being a “Yankee”.  It was supposed to become my second home.

She tried to get me to drive the four wheeler, but since I’d never even tried a car, I refused in terror.  I watched her zip across the backyard towards the rising hills that made up a good portion of her grandparents’ land.  Her grandpa laughed next to me.
“It’s not that dangerous.  Just looks that way.  She isn’t actually going that much faster than a car on a road.”
Katherine zips back around and pauses next to me.  She gives me an enticing smile.
“Come on. Get on. You can trust me.”  I hesitate a moment, but then my eyes meet her’s and she’s right.  I do trust her.  With anything.  With everything.
There is nothing like whipping up and down the hills of Kentucky, wind swirling, dodging branches, and arms wrapped around the person you love.

Loved.

______________________________

Maybe my heart is just dust.

Maybe it’s better that way.

Be At Peace

I don’t want to take away from the grieving that is going on for Sara.  It’s not my place.  I just have to get my thoughts down about my friend I knew outside of these blogging walls that is also gone now.

But before I logged on here and saw about Sara, I was notified that a friend of mine committed suicide.  By hanging himself.  His poor girlfriend found him yesterday evening.

I can’t imagine that.  It’s just….I’m having a hard time just dealing with his death and he and I were never romantically involved.  In fact, he drove me nuts 90% of the time.  I have no alias for you readers as I didn’t really write about him.  I didn’t see him much lately.  I’m sad about that now.

He was only bipolar as far as I knew, but I know a lot of us keep our mental-health demons well hidden, especially with persons we know in real life, as opposed to the internet.

It isn’t officially known that he passed away yet.  I was only told because I’m close friends with his best friend.  I just don’t even know how to react.  I don’t know how to feel.

I intended to write about how I’ve been losing a lot of time and how a part of me is attempting to severe some relationship ties that I think they consider “unhealthy”.

But that all seems so petty and stupid now.

I’m here.

Despite some self-harm and minor health issues, I’m safe and sound.

The self-hatred hasn’t dragged me all the way down yet.

I bow my head for my friends who weren’t able to keep their heads above the water.  I know that water is dark and deep and it’s hard to keep treading.  You will find no judgment here, my friends.

Only love.

You are greatly missed.

Be well and at peace, wherever you are.

Edit/Note:  When I said “only bipolar” I did not mean that it is any lesser than any other mental-health diagnosis.  I only meant that his bipolar diagnosis was the only thing I was aware of.  I’m sure that in itself was a hard struggle for him daily.  I have no personal experience with being bipolar.  It was not my intention to offend anyone.  I apologize if I did.

Loss

This post is dedicated to Texas
(even though she doesn’t currently read my blog) 

Early this morning her grandmother passed away.  This is a woman who raised, sheltered, and loved Texas unconditionally while her mother and father struggled with a crippling drug habit that constantly threatened to destroy Texas’s childhood.
She has been battling cancer for months now- and this morning, she was finally called to rest and doesn’t have to be in pain anymore.

I wrote this for Texas; my best friend, the strongest woman I know- who is almost singlehandedly handling holding up her family and being supportive and helping with the necessary arrangements that need done, while also grieving for a woman who was essentially her mother.

I have been lucky enough to not have experienced the loss of a close family member (with the exception of my stepbrother, but he and I were not particularly close), so this poem is more of a empathetic supportive attempt at understanding loss.
______________________________________________________________

Loss

A girl thrown into darkness
A world apart
Nothing but a vast emptiness
A broken heart

These scratched out feelings
Can’t even express
Unending talk of angels and wings
When just trying to suppress

The need to run, to hide
To dig and dig and dig
That hole could hold her

While that sensation
Reverse déjà vu
On the edge of the mind

Something that can’t be forgotten
Remembered
Kept
Cherished

Stop saying those words:
“Are you okay?”
Nothing is okay
But despite that hole calling
Singing it’s sweet refrain
She manages to stand tall
A woman
Shining with all the strength, courage, and love
Of loss

Windchimes again

Perhaps this is what the warning was for.

Everything going sideways.

I think it was from Audrey.  I’m so sorry Audrey.  I’m sorry for everything that happened to you, for everything you went through.

I understand why you went away.

Sometimes I think about joining you.

Sometimes I think we should all join you.

But I know that’s wrong and bad.
It’s just…everything She did…everything She didn’t.
I don’t understand how it means nothing to Kit and Midori and Serefina.  We lost Audrey over everything She did.  Sweet, soft, gentle Audrey.  Audrey who only ever loved with every bit of herself as deeply as she could.
And all it did was hurt her.  And destroy her.

Then there was Cordelia.  Our darling. Our light. Our life. Two against the world.
…I didn’t know my heart could break this much.  And now the anniversary is approaching, rearing it’s ugly head and reminding us of all the ways we aren’t good enough.

Rika has a theory that Audrey and I are twinned (Shadow Dragon talks about that concept occasionally).  I guess I can see that.  It would explain why I only have felt like half of a whole since she’s been gone.

Maybe if I keep talking to her…if I don’t act like she is gone…maybe Audrey will come back.  She could come back and fix everything…

Beauty of a Best Friend…

This is another lazy post mostly for ourselves.
But if you happened to be curious about the dynamic between my best friend, Germany, and myself, then continue by all means.
She did a fantastic job of pulling me out of my funk, as per usual. And she’s super witty and hilarious and will probably make you smile too.

(FYI, This is all through a chat service)

(I apologize for Germany’s mouth and nastiness. She gets….extremely mean about people who upset me. We’re like sisters. It’s how it goes. Oh. She also has absolutely no tact. None.)

____________________________________________________________________________________________

me:  Are you doing okay? I had a scary dream about you last night. I don’t remember most of it, but I woke up feeling really worried about you

Germany:  Actually, yeah. Yesterday was stressful but today I’m walking on sunshine and rainbows. Sorry you had a scary dream. I didn’t mean that sarcastically, I promise.
I have two job opportunities that fell into my lap. Now I gotta choose. So I’m out of my mind happy.

me:  Oh good, I’m glad. I did think you were being sarcastic for a moment, so thanks for the clarification. Lol.
Was the scary-ness just the lack of job opportunities?

Germany:  Nope I had to take a test. To see if I am smart enough to do the job. It took an hour and a half, it was timed, it was all in German, and I couldn’t retake it at all.  Technical, hard German.

me:  Is this the eye-doctor’s office thing?

Germany:  Nope. Hörgerätakustikerin.

me:  …..yeah, my Deutsch ain’t that good

Germany:  Making hearing aids for old people. I don’t know the ‘merican name for that.

me:  Ah. Sounds…interesting. So would your job be more factory or administrative?

Germany:  Not really factory so much as laboratory, and it would be a little of sales too. Like, someone comes in and needs a hearing aid, I help them out and make it for ’em. I fit it to their ears and make sure it works and shit.

me:  Ahhhh. Cool. Gotcha. You’re good at shouting too.

Germany:  Har har…I’m hoping for more lab time though because I’m still hesitant about my German skills

me:  I see. Well, maybe this’ll fast-track your improvement. Soon you’ll be super-fluent. But only at slightly above normal volume of speaking. Like, CAN I HELP YOU?

Germany:  I talk above normal anyways. I’m a noisy American. Americans are THE loudest people

me:  True. You’d be like: NO, WE ONLY HAVE IT IN GRAY.

Germany:  Who wears gray hearing aids?

me:  I dunno. I guess it would be flesh color.
ONLY IN FLESH COLOR. NOT GRAY. I WAS MISTAKEN.

Germany:  Yeah. If they need gray, they’re dead

me:  It would match their hair

Germany:  lol

me:  For the ladies

Germany:  Sooo fashionable nowadays with other geezers

me:  I mean, the ladies hair could like, hide it and shit. Miss you.

Germany:  I miss you too

me:  So that Terra chick is a jerk. The chick you briefly heard on Skype last week

Germany:  Yeah. How was she a bitch?

me:  When Zoe was climbing on her and trying to be friendly, she goes “She doesn’t seem to want to sit with you. Is she climbing on and licking me because I actually have boobs?”

Germany:  ….

me:  Seriously. I’m not fucking exaggerating. You can ask Texas.

Germany:  What does that even have to do with anything? I mean, why the fuck would dogs care?

me:  Terra’s like, really curvy and that’s why she has boobs  (look at me even now trying to not be rude and call her fat), but do I say something about that back? No. And I have no fuckin’ clue what that has to do with ANYTHING or dogs.

Germany:  You should’ve. Should’ve said, “Maybe she’s just confusing you for the Pilsbury Dough Woman… or Aunt Jemima”. BAHAHAHA! Get it? Cos she’s black?

me: …Aunt Jemima? That’s ridic. But sorta hilarious. You are terrible.

Germany:  Yes. And not ridic. Gotta put jerks in their place. Fight fire with maple syrup.

me:  Well, I left early and texted Texas to please not invite Terra over anymore when we’re having our girl-time.  I didn’t even know Terra was going to come over…

Germany:  Yeah. I’d have ditched. I’d have left with ya and gotten Starbuuuuuuuuuuuucks. And made you try to get lost. Which we would fail. And get home by dark. And laugh ourselves silly. And by dark I mean after dark.

me:  Hahaha. All that driving around and getting lost apparently has actually improved my sense of direction. I was directing SD all over Kettering flawlessly the other day. I miss that. I have no other friends who like just driving around and shit. For the hell of it.

Germany:  That’s how I roll. Givin bitches a mini me inside of em. Only, ya know, not the fetus kind of me. Just the map thing.

me:  ….mini you is freaky.

Germany:  which one? fetal one or map one? Either way, I’m thinking of “Alien”.

me:  Sure. Both. Both are freaky. One is slightly less.

Germany:  IMMA EXPLODE OUTCHA CHEST. REEEEEEAAARRRRR!
* skitter skitter skitter*
* acid spit*

me:  Lol. Maybe that’s why the dream about you freaked me out. You were an alium.
alayum

Germany:  Exactamundo

me:  Hm. Not sure how to spell my pronunciation.

Germany:  uh…ayeleeuhm? aaaayleeeummm? 😀 What else is neeeeeeew?

me:  Uhhhh. I officially live at SD’s now. It’s weird.

Germany:  DID YOU FUCK JEFF YET? Ahem. I mean, how’s it going with Jeff?

me: -snort- Between you and Texas, I swear…
She offered to leave me condoms at her place when I mentioned I may watch movies there with Jeff while pet-sitting. Anyway, yesterday was the worse day ever.

Germany:  Hahahahahahahahaha. Texas is awesome. Anyways. Worst day ever.

me:  First of all, Saturday was Family Fun Day at Cedar Point for the bro’s bday. It was awful because I hate being at amusements parks (without you).

Germany:  Of course

me:  So I’m all grumpy about that. Plus it was a long ass drive and I didn’t get home until like, 2am. So I wake up late Sunday. The day I’m supposed to move my furniture to SD’s (I’ve been sleeping on a futon). But I feel shitty, and SD is feeling meh, and Jeff wants to hang out and I haven’t seen him in awhile. So I decide we should get lunch together and then pick up my bathroom shiz and some work clothes and that’s it.
I text Army to make sure he’s clothed after we finish lunch. SD has never met Army. It was fucking weird. He was all weird and I think he was pissed off. I dunno. It was weird.

Germany:  Was it weird? It seems that you thought it was weird? Soooooo weird.

me:  Har har. Anyway, we get my shit and GTFO back to SD’s place, watch some movies, then I drop Jeff off. Fast forward to Monday. I’m still feeling blah from the weekend.
I remember that Monday evening is a PNO (Pagan’s night out), this social thingy-ma-bob-er. I haven’t been all Pagan social since Stalker-mc-creepy-douchebag has been all stalker-y. SD says she wants to go, Jeff said he’s interested so we decide to go.
We fucking forget it’s a fucking Monday night, which is the normal night for Stalker’s fucking circle thing. So he’s fucking there.

Germany:  Stalker is period panties guy, right?

me:  Yeah, he is.
And he’s all fucking creepy and talking to me about his (ex)wife trying to Facebook stalk him and SD and how she thinks SD means something to him. Like romantically. Obviously trying to get me jealous or something. So I’m like “k….”
And he’s like “We should get together. I have some PRIVATE things I need to discuss with you. Super important.”
I’m paraphrasing slightly to give an idea of how fucking creepy he comes across with the combination of his body language and words.

Germany:  Of course. Either you’re going senile or you think I’M going senile. I remember how you work, silly.

me:  So I skitter back to my table on the OTHER side of the room where Jeff and SD are. But now I’m fucking edgy and upset, so I need a goddamn smoke. So I go outside and start smoking. Jeff graciously follows to keep me company.

Germany:  Good boy, Jeff

me:  We chat while I totally hotbox a cig. Then FUCKING STALKER comes out all nonchalant and is like “Made me crave a cig. Ha ha I’m a douche.”
I try to ignore him and smoke faster. SD comes out and quietly asks if we want to leave and I’m like, “Totally. Let me finish this cig though since I’m driving and need some serious nicotine to process.”

Germany:  Right on

me:  Meanwhile, Stalker is glaring fucking daggers at Jeff, even though we aren’t standing close or anything or doing anything that would make him think we like, an item or anything.
Reminds me of fucking Katharine. Wants like, no penises to even look at me. Jesus.

Germany:  You should’ve grabbed Jeff. All sexy-like. Seriously. Doesn’t matter what stage you guys are in.

me:  That’s more a you thing…I suck at that shit.

Germany:  Tap that card. Dude.

me:  You mean…like sex? What if it’s terrible?

Germany:  Oh my god. Fuck.

me:  Oh god. But what if he’s totally expecting us to bone at Texas’?

Germany:  That’s not even what I meant. I meant that Jeff is the kind of guy who would be more than willing to help you out of a situation like that with Stalker-Fuckface. Just explain beforehand and he’ll help ya out.

me: Oh. Never mind then. Ignore my manic turn of phrase.

Germany:  Chill. We can address that in a mo.

me:  So we leave PNO. Go back to SD’s. Start watching a movie. I’m still all upset (just too much stress building) and shaky, so I decide gin is a good idea (dunno why. I’m dumb). I drink some gin.
But since I’m stressed, exhausted, and have barely eaten in days, I get tipsy quick and fall into sleepy-drunk quick.
Jeff is again, super-gracious and is totally fine with me going to lie down. I worry about getting him home but SD is all like “I’ll do it. You go rest.” I’m like, cool. She’s a friend and shit.
So I wake up yesterday. Feeling like shit cause I slept like shit. Not quite hungover though. I’m woken by SD coming in to tell me I got a parking ticket because my plates are expired.

Germany:  Boo

me:  And I”m like “That’s totally impossible. I totally renewed those…wait. Shit. I was in and out and of the hospital that whole month. Fuck fuck fuck.”
Then SD launches into some long-winded thing about Jeff and dropping him off and talking to him for hours. She started saying how she talked about and figured out his mental state and psychology shit and how she thinks he’s an awesome guy and has similar mental issues to me and her.

Germany:  Mkay

me:  And it sounds like exactly how she talked about Stalker before a buncha shit was revealed about my mental state and then used against me, and then Stalker was like “I have the same mental problems, so we’re like twinners!” because SD kept talking to him about [BPD and DID, and disassociation].
Now, this was before I realized what a complete creeper he was. I dunno. I’m dumb.
And I’m obviously not over the incident because I start getting really nervous and upset that she’s going to try and twist the psych stuff around again and Jeff’ll go for it because I have hang-ups and I’m not sure whether I can handle a relationship with a fellow broken person or not.  Not to mention whether he’ll want that sort of baggage from me.

Germany:  Jeff isn’t that kind of guy. Believe me. You could ask her nicely to back off the psych talk.

me:  You assume I’m logical and shit. I did start to say something about that and she was all like “Jeff’s so much better than Stalker. I think he’ll make an awesome friend addition to our group.” And then I chickened out.

Germany:  Yeah…. well….Jeff won’t use that brain-stuff against you.

me:  I guess. I was pretty upset all yesterday morning. Ended up crying in my room like a dumbass because I already regret the corner I’ve painted myself into.

Germany:  Sweetie, during most of the time you and I were on the out and outs and not talking, HE was the bestie until I came back from China. I know Jeff. No way he’d pull some bullshit like that. He’s had the opportunities, but he’s got integrity. If you’re that worried, bring it up with him.

me:  I did.

Germany:  And his reaction?

me:  I actually was brave yesterday and bluntly told him all my dumb insecurities and how I wasn’t trying to seem crazy but I have certain issues I need to put on the table up front.  He thanked me for being up front and said that he was glad I said something,  so he could make sure to not make me feel a position of insecurity in the future.

Germany:  Told ya

me:  😛 I knew he’d say something like that. I know what kind of guy he is. I just don’t know if he really just doesn’t realize what a complete fuck-up I am.

Germany:  K-girl, shut your brain up for two seconds and let me talk… type… whatever.

me:  …yes ma’am.

Germany:  Have you ever, EVER heard me say anything REMOTELY close to “I trust (your love interest’s name here) completely in this instance.” EVER before? No. Why? Because I didn’t. Your previous relationships have all been scum bags and morons and evil people. So when I say that I trust Jeff to do what’s right with the person I love like my own sister, do you understand how important that is?
Because if he takes advantage of any situation that he knows would end up breaking your heart, hell will have frozen over or someone is threatening your life or his or his family’s or he’s lost his damn mind.
In which case I’ll kill him naturally. But the odds of that happening are slim.
You now have permission to respond.

me:  I love you

Germany:  I know

me:  I’m trying not to get all Gilmore Girl teary-eyed at work.

Germany: 😀

me:  I know you’re right (as always )

Germany:  Yep

me:  I’m obviously am such a fuck-up that I don’t even know how to handle a sane, normal, none-asshole person in a relationship-sense.

Germany:  It takes practice, patience, and a little trust

me:  Stupid trust. I hate that. I hate giving it to anyone anymore. I’m just tired of building relationships, of any kind. Friendships, romantic. All of it. I just want it to jump to the comfortable stage immediately. No learning. I just want to know the person.
But I feel like I’ve maxed out all that I need. I mean, it sucks that you’re so far away, but I just don’t want any more close friends than I have at this moment. Blargh.

Germany:  Mkay… Then stop building relationships. Just kinda go with the flow. You’re so concerned with controlling your life that I think you’re stressing yourself to death. RELAX! Let people come to you. Give them a smidgen of trust, but not all of it. Build from there. Don’t try to make new close friends, you’ll just end up fighting it, even if part of you wants someone close. Just relax, let people do what they will, and worry about figuring out what you want out of life.

me:  I guess. I dunno.

Germany:  And realize that you can’t plan every little detail. Come up with a vague plan. Like mine was “Move to Germany”.

me:  I wish my stupid brain didn’t prone towards stupid broken-ness that makes me depressed and crazy and stupid and self-harming if I can’t feel like I’m loved enough or in control enough….

Germany:  Mine is too, dear. I just stopped sharing that part of my brain with people. I never got the reaction I wanted from people when I shared it. But that doesn’t mean I am not the same. But the control I let go of.

me:  I think you’re better at controlling parts of yourself than I am at mine. I’m terrified that I’m not going to be able to handle a severe reduction in sex. I never have been before. It’s always made a side of me do dumb, stupid things that most of me hates.

Germany:  Well… it takes practice and creative thinking. But you can do it. Look at how I was in high school.

me:  I’m 24. I should not be as fucked-up as a high schooler. Obviously that means there is something horribly wrong with me.
And dad’s right. I’m a complete immature failure of a citizen.

Germany:  No. That’s not what I meant. And you’re dad is a fucktard. I think you and I need to set up a Skype time sometime and we can talk a little more about this. But you’re not a failure. You just don’t really have someone to help you. I had to help myself. But I can help you if you want. You’ve grown up a lot. You have.

me:  I don’t feel like it

Germany:  Yeah, and sometimes you’ll feel like that. But that doesn’t make it any less true. You’re not in a dependent relationship anymore. You realize the signs of one. You are trying to get your life together. You cut out Stalker a lot sooner than you would’ve in high school (like Uniballer).

me:  True

Germany:  You have made steps towards adulthood

me:  I’m actually not letting myself be cowardly with Jeff despite the fact of his intuitive understanding of me terrifies me.

Germany:  See? And, by the way, that terror should also be accompanied with joy. It’s scary, but it means you found someone who knows you for you instead of who they want you to be.

me:  It is nice being able to not have to put on that mask. It’s getting pretty tattered.

Germany:  Yeah, your mask isn’t helpful.

me:  It’s helpful with some family still. Mostly dad’s. And my stepdad.

Germany:  Yeah okay, but your family is a special, fucked up case.

me:  Heh. Yay.

Germany:  Besides, what good is a mask when you can’t wear it because it’s too tattered. If you are sick of feeling this way, I can help. But you have to tell me that in your own words. You have to say, “Germany, oh bestest friend of mine, I am sick of feeling like I’m immature and loser-y. I want to change.”
Because if you don’t mean it and you want to stay where you are and complain, then I don’t want to waste both of our time, ya know? I don’t mean that in the harsh, heartless way it sounds, but still. If you want to improve and are willing to put energy towards it, I am always here and happy to help

me:  Lmao. You mean stroke your ego at the same time then?

Germany:  Har har. No. My ego needs no stroking.

me:  Heh.

Germany:  Unless you want to 😉

me:  Lol. Well, I’ll let you get to fixing food and eatin’ it. We’ll talk laters.

Germany:  All right. You have a good rest of your day. And cheer up! Jeff likes ya, you got a job and a roof over your head, and a bestie who lerrrrvvvvves ya (even if it’s an ocean away)

me:  Very true. Take care ❤

Germany:  You too, dear. Buh bai ❤


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zoe

she is curled on the bed. so cute! i love lying next to her and petting her. she likes licking my hand. i love her so much. she seems to love us too, even over any other peoples. there is no one else in the world that likes us better than anyone else…
-armes