But I never miss them.

I think about them sometimes but I never miss them. I just feel surprised that I ever allowed it to happen. Hate feels like such a strong emotion to carry on after it ended. Not to be a cliche’ but hate seems too easy. I have a hard time thinking of a single thing that ever brought us together but I could give you a top 10 list without any trouble about why I left, why they are the worst of the worst, why my heart was broken into a thousand pieces.

I gave him so many years. 4.5 years of dialogue and love. 4.5 years of trying to get him to have sex. 4.5 years of trying to make him smile. 4.5 years of attempting to understand why he did what he did and what I was doing wrong. But now, I feel ridiculous because the person that I see in the mirror now wouldn’t even get flustered with him. We would have had 2 maybe 3 dates and I wouldn’t have called him again. I wouldn’t have stayed around when I caught him in a lie. I wouldn’t have even started to elevate my voice for a single screaming match. I would have never been jealous of everyone that was more important than I was. I would have never be prone to so many things. I would have shrugged and done something more important like vacuum my floors or take out the trash. 

But you know, I’ve tried recently to remember the love. To remember some single thread of genuine connection that held us together and I can’t find it. All I feel is my open arms and his cold gestures back to me, always pacifying me with some response to get me out of his way.

If you have a feeling that someone is a liar, it’s probably because they’re a fucking liar. And if you have a feeling that someone is holding out on you, it’s probably because they are fucking holding out on you. And if you think that there’s something worth saving because of some 1950’s doctrine about working things out, I suggest you love yourself enough to know that no one else can complete you and there is a massive world out there filled with people that will love you, look out for you, connect with you, not cheat on you, not destroy you, if you give them time and a chance to present themselves.

In the mean time, make yourself an empty canvas and repaint the life you want.

You are your master and YOU are your greatest enemy. Have a talk with yourself. Settle the score. Get to the bottom of it and find your life, find your love, find your moment.

Q:Hey. I just wanted to say that I find your blog really interesting and I'll be sure to follow to see where things go for you. You seem like a great example of someone trying ti live their life to the fullest.

floe239

Thank you! I’m glad I stumbled across yours as well. I like your writing. My guy is from Ohio, so much love to you! I appreciate the follow!

Sweet boys. Quite possibly the single greatest story I have heard for legal equality. It truly isn’t a punchline or a fad.

If I we’re to die tomorrow, my family would likely react similarly. Because my relationship is not legally protected in Indiana, I’ve had to take other measures to protect my significant other (if I were to die unexpectedly) not only from our government (that should be protecting me) but from my family (that should be embracing me.)

Shame for the sake of shame?

I love Alanis. Through her I have defined myself so many times. It was her that helped give me a voice to not attend ORU (a religion university that will expel you for homosexual orientation.) It was her that allowed me to push myself to write. It was her that allowed me to feel different in accordance with myself. Lastly, it was her that allowed me to define success on my own measures and no one else’s.

Here is a quote from her this week:

“There is a lack of apology for the kind of person I am. I used to have some shame around my Ph.D, psychological part and shame about being spiritual, or shame about being emotional or sensitive. And what I know now, or what I feel now, is that I don’t have shame for those parts. It might piss people off or rub them the wrong way or have them roll their eyes. I don’t care.”

I feel a constant war inside of me for my spirituality, my emotional vulnerability, and my sensitivity, not to mention my psychological self trying to smooth it all over and bring it together. I am forever writing out Facebook status updates and deleting them. I am eternally thinking things through before I speak and then wonder who I offended while I attempt to be myself. I think of someone’s reaction to my kindness or their criticalness of my selflessness a day later wondering why they couldn’t have been kinder to me. It’s tiring. The fact that anyone could say, “I don’t care,” means more than I am full able to grasp.

Surely she has a support group of people that she can go to. People that will own her and validate her. For every eye roll, it’s nice to have friends that can roll their eyes right back as you tell the story over drinks at the bar.

God help me. I swear my passion is never ending, and much like my sex-drive, it only seems to grow the older I get. I fear my daddy-issues will never stop trying to own me. A little fucking validation would have gone a long way, pops.
 

Thankful for a boyfriend that knows.

Thank you to my boyfriend for being a fucking man. For not cowering away when he could. He moved to my city two years ago this summer and I am grateful for what he has reinforced in me. He doesn’t know how much he impacts me simply by doing things most might consider basic: he sticks around, he doesn’t fuck others, he doesn’t keep secrets, he doesn’t hold grudges, and he is honest with me. Our rare arguments are small and few. When we make love, I feel considerably complete and at a total loss for what I feel for him when we come together. I’m thankful for his laughter. I’m thankful for his voice when he acts silly. I’m thankful for his strong arms. I’m thankful for his soft skin and his perfect body. I’m thankful for his lips, his kiss. I’m thankful for his ability to trust me, to make me feel like a million bucks. He was with me when I was flux with cash and he was by me when I starved myself to chase my passions and he’ll be with me when we rule the fucking world. He knows I’ll never leave him for another guy and that my devotions are all for him. My friends love him and I’m so thankful to be with someone that adds to my life instead of takes away. Whether he is hyper or quiet, I find myself attracted to him, in his entirety. I’ve never been in a relationship before without losing myself. Although I am lost in Brian, he is not my fucked-up beating heart or my only breath. He is simply the greatest source of motivation to keep loving and moving forward, together, happily.