Tag Archives: Rogers


She is supposed to live three states away.

She is supposed to have no friends to visit.

She is supposed to be long gone. A figment.

A long ago relic of my foggy past.

It is a lie.

It’s always a lie.

She still knows my passion for Halloween. For this charity event. She knows. She always knows where to be. How to twist the knife.

It’s been almost 4 years.

My body retches. My mind flutters. Every single fucking stride I’ve made over these past months…




Those ice blue eyes see right into me. The lips curve with sadistic glee as she recognizes the switching. The shattering. The fracturing.

The chatter of friends is faint. I know, distantly, that they are trying to bring me back.

I am briefly grounded by the warmth I feel at Army and Rogers not only getting along well, but both attempting wholeheartedly to bring me back around.

She speaks about many things. Mostly mundane. It is only as I start to duck out (she notices how early I am leaving) that her mouth forms poison. It begins innocently enough.

“Are you here with Army?”

I manage an affirmative. Her eyes narrow.

“I thought you were done with that immature phase.”

I hear a whispering of what isn’t said. My stomach shrivels, my throat dries.

My cowardice is still strong with her.

I run.

Coping with the M word

I’m already dreading Sunday and feeling that curling sick feeling in my stomach.

Probably won’t post this weekend.

I heard two women on the elevator this morning talking about st–lborns and mis—riages.  I have no idea why a person would discuss such topics on a busy public elevator.

I’ve had some planning issues with having company on Sunday.  I’m not sure if it’s going to happen.

Army get some credit though, as he is trying very hard to get a shift swap to take place so he can be off.  The problem is he has this absolutely horrible partner that everyone in his company hates and no one wants to work with.  So I’m not sure about him being available.

Texas was supposed to be, but she said she’s got some homework and her boyfriend’s soccer game.  I keep reminding myself that I need to stop being selfish and other people have lives and sitting with a dumb girl who is just having a case of the mentals is no one’s idea of a good way to spend a Sunday.

Rogers said he’s still down.  And he’s being gracious about Army joining us if he is able to get off.

I’m just dreading it so much.

I know I shouldn’t drink or down any pills that day or my mind will just swirl out of control.  Rogers has offered me the herbal alternative if I would like, but I am unsure how that would affect me when I’m so unbalanced.  Especially with the DID/MPD.

I just want this weekend to pass without me carving words into my skin again while high on pills and drunk on booze.  And alone.  Last year was such a mess.

I just want to have an excuse to not dwell.  If I’m alone, I know I’ll dwelldwelldwell.  But it feels so ridiculous and selfish asking other people to spend time with me when I know I’ll be probably semi-robotic and terrible company.

I should stop being so selfish and just stay at the apartment.  Maybe I could managing some sort of movie-thon on my own.

Feeling Worthy

It’s a soft yet constant stroke of his fingers on the thin, delicate skin of her inner wrist.  The way he outlines the shape of her tattoo.

On the cinema movie screen, Simon Pegg’s wrist’s are exposed.  Covered in bandages practically to the elbow, a hospital tag firmly attached.  She winces, flashing back to those two awful weeks in late summer years ago.

Before she can curl into herself, his head is tilting against hers and his hand is moving up to play with her hair.  Carefully. He doesn’t say a word.  He knows better than to ask.

When they are out in the parking lot, he does finally speak.

“This work schedule is hard. I’m glad you came tonight. I miss seeing you.”

He’s parked his car right next to her’s and they stand between them, her leaning against him.  She’s quiet before she says softly.

“I almost didn’t. I love spending time with you, you know I do. But…after the other day, I’m worried about being able to include you in my general social life.”

“You mean Horrorama.” He murmurs.  She nods against his chest. “And Rogers.” He adds. She nods again, then looks up at him.

“I know you have very different viewpoints on…specific matters.  But you’re both important to me.”

“You’re important to me.” He replies carefully, his eyes hesitant. He doesn’t want to fight again. “I don’t want to ruin Horrorama for you.”  His eyes move around the dark and mostly empty parking lot carefully, “And I didn’t mean to cause issues with him with my comment the other day, but you know how I feel about proper protection.”

“I know.” She slips her hands into his pockets and tugs lightly, affectionately. He smiles and adjusts his legs so she can lean more comfortably between them.

His hands stroke up and down her arms as he sighs. “Anything for you though.”

She stares up at him in surprise.  He’s never said that combination of words towards her.  About her.

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” He agrees.  Then he pauses. “But if he brings up politics first…”

“Well.” She lets out a small chuckle, “I suppose he brings it upon himself then.  But be nice.”

“So like…at nerf level? So he won’t get butthurt?” He says, a twinkle in his eye.

“You can’t talk about anything without being slightly asshole…” She replies with an eyeroll.

“Twenty percent.” He offers, “If he brings up politics first, I’ll argue back at twenty percent.” His head moves closer and drops lingering kisses on the crown of her hair, one arm moving down to wrap around her hips.  She lets out another chuckle.

“You’re awful.”

“I’m awful.” He agrees easily. “You’re not. You’re wonderful.”

She moves her hands around his belt, marveling at how easily he lets her maneuver over his holster and clip holders without tensing.  She’s aware of his PTSD and the history with his ex wife (stealing his own weapons and threatening him with them).

She isn’t interested in removing or touching them, just moving around them to snag the hand he has placed against his car.  She interlaces her fingers with his and turns her head to lay flat against his chest.

There are days when she wonders if it would be better to just stay at home, locked in her room, never dealing with other people.

There are days when she wonders if she’s ever meant to have any sort of relationship that actually works.  If she’s just punishing herself by picking people who seem unavailable for the most part (whether physically or emotionally).

Then there are nights like this. When it all makes sense. And even though he has his faults, his hangups, sometimes he actually lets it drop for her.

When her hand fits perfectly into his and his words crawl into her soul and build a nest to rest and remind her that she isn’t unworthy.

Petty Drama

“We accept the love we think we deserve”  -Stephen Chboksy, “Perks of Being a Wallflower”

I’m feeling a bit divided today.

Basically, Facebook drama has reared its ugly head.  Sometimes I wonder why I’m even on Facebook.

I hate that I have to blog about something that seems so very petty, but it’s really upset me.

Army, during this probationary period we’re trying, recently decided to take more of an interest in my social life and what makes me happy.

I decided to share a little about some of my best coping techniques.  One of those includes the lovely friendship I have with Rogers.  It’s extremely rare for me to feel this emotionally comfortable with someone of the opposite gender.

It’s nice to be able to just honestly tell someone about my emotional state and when I’m triggered and what the trigger entails, etc.  I don’t have to be vague.  I don’t have to say something like “Oh…it’s just been a stressful day.”

It’s a relief.

I sometimes worry that I take advantage of my friendship with Rogers.  It’s hard to have so few friends who really know “me”. Also, he’s one of my few “techy” friends, so he gets bombarded with dumb questions like “How do I take a screenshot on my new iPhone?”

Anyway. Told Army about how Rogers is a really amazing friend. And Army seemed to take a genuine interest. I also realized they’ll probably both be at a Halloween event that I’m helping with this year.

Now, Army is very very Libertarian (conservative leaning) and Rogers is very liberal (socialist ideals).  They’ve butted heads over this in the past.

I requested that Army respect Rogers were they to encounter each other at said Halloween event. Army agreed.

Then this morning, he decided to friend Rogers on Facebook. I have no clue why. But within ten minutes, he finds a liberal slanted status and proceeds to reply with patronizing snark.

Rogers, who suffers from some similar anxiety and confrontation-fear that I do, decided to unfriend Army and delete the post.  Understandable.

Army then messages me about the situation and tries to appeal to the fact that he “just had to explain something close to [his] heart”.  (Note: he means gun legislation)

I feel torn. I understand how Army is about gun control. But I also feel he isn’t understanding how it looks to Rogers. He thought he was being offered something akin to an olive branch, and suddenly it’s being snapped in half.

I dislike conflict.  I dislike having to “pick sides”.

Honestly, I’m on Rogers’. Army was completely unreasonable.

But this makes me worry that my romantic life and social life will not be able to easily mix.  Ever. This isn’t the first friend of mine that Army has alienated.

How can my relationship with Army be long term if he can’t understand how not to insult my friends?

This really is unnecessary stress, but I can’t seem to force myself to move beyond my concerns.

I’m now thinking about telling Army he can’t come to the Halloween event.  Which seems entirely unfair; both to him and myself (I do enjoy his company when he isn’t an asshat).

But I know I won’t enjoy it if it turns into some insult/debate-athon.

I just wish he could shut down that part of him for others like he does for me.  But it doesn’t seem to be possible.

I also feel dumb for dumping this petty drama in a post on my blog.  I promise to return to more deep and relevant posts in the future.

Thanks for your patience (if you’ve even read this far).

Hope your day is going better than mine.