99.14.02: Loveless

Sometimes I think that there is no such thing as a vivid imagination: that there is only memory, and the ability to extrapolate.

Valentine*s Day

02 feb 1999 9:24 pm
tempe, arizona
roses are red, violets are blue...

Thinking about the perfect person is impossible. Especially when you don't believe in soulmates.

Not somone perfect, just perfect for me
Someone who trusts me. Someone who I trust. Someone who's word I would never doubt.

Someone who would listen and understand me.

Someone who I can tell *anything* too

Someone who I depend on without measure, without bound

A Soulmate, instant rapport. kidred spirits. A Lover. A Confidant, A friend
Someone in who's eyes I can lose myself in.

Someone who will hold me and tell me *everthing* is going to be alright, (even if she's lying).

Someone who's love is infinite for me, as mine is for her.
Someone who will always give me the benifit of a doubt
Someone who I would die for, who would die for me.
Most importantly someone who would never, ever hurt me.

I close my eyes.

I brace myself to the reality that such person does not exist in this world for me.

It took us a bit of time to get talking, then it took us a bit longer still to get to the heart of a few things I'd let go unsaid, conversations left unfinished for far too long. At first, she was quiet and cautious. At first, I was nervous and chattering pointlessly a great deal. But there were things about which I'd been meaning to talk to her for years.

She was gracious and kind enough to let me.

Maybe she didn't know what to say. Maybe for a little while she *actually* felt the same for me. Maybe.
She told me she loved me. I stood there, grateful for the lie.

A promise made but never kept, the one she broke without regret

I believed her, I wanted to believe her more than anything. She felt like home to me. Her words lifted my spirit, her heart and her wisdom, her talent. Everything that made her who she was, I wanted it, I wanted to be *the one*.

At times I have wondered to myself what it is that I want. Sometimes aloud sometimes only in my head i'm inundated with images of the myriad of things I would need to be happy. To be calm, content and compliant with life.

I have a fear of complacency, a fear of settling. At times it's overwhelming and all consuming. I never want to have something because it's the best thing I could get, I want to have it because I want it. I see people unhappy with their lives because of mistakes they made 20 years ago (ie. mom) I never want to end up like that.

Maybe it's something you only learn too late.

Something vast and horrible and uglier than death, something that took years and an all-too public confession before I could begin to heal. I have so much anger at the world, so much hatred for the things I've had to go through. For the things I'm still going through while the others have it fall on their laps on a silver platter

I get defensive at times, I feel the world owes ME, Big Time.

Even in crowds I feel alone. Not good alone, but isolated from everyone around me. Not special just dislocated from time and place as if I didn't ever quite belong here.
It's strange because unless you gone through it you have no real concept of what I'm talking about. It's defense mechanism #1. something of fear.

perhaps lonely, perhaps fearful, perhaps unable to communicate my feelings.

When I have communicated them I've lost more, my own friends.

Ever been smitten with someone? I'm sure you have.
Well, you try to be smooth about it, dropping only little hints of attraction, till one day you make a wrong move. The subconscious takes over and you let the cat out of the bag. You drop a hint so big that the object of your desire would have to be deaf, blind and dumb not to notice it.

Your face becomes flushed, your heart races and you await the consequences of the can of worms big mouth opened.
It wasn't to be the only time this happened. It was simply the one that happened closest to home, and as clues go, not much of one - just a few sentences that occured by a planned mistake.

It should be noted that I intended on letting her know, fully. But certain circumstances speeded up the process.
I thought that maybe, just maybe, she would feel the same towards me. I always thought of her as über-cool, maybe she was in my mind.

Obsessions make you do crazy things. What is worse is recognizing the limitations of your skills and the impossibility of the task yet trying to prove yourself wrong.
It's awful to be in love with someone who hurts you.
With someone who will never love you.
Someone who will never see you as more than just a friend.

The two threads intertwine, though, and I hardly ever make the distinction between them, even on the rare occasions that I do speak of them, even to the few people who, I know, understand and care.
It felt so right, it felt like the hands of fate. More than anyone I had ever met, more than anything I had ever known. It tasted like destiny.

My only hope of keeping it at bay has always been the possibility that I might someday find someone to take her place.
I'm looking for home. WHO?, WHEN?, WHERE?, the kind of thing that keeps me up at night. I don't know the answer, I only know what I want.

(There is only memory, and the ability to extrapolate.)

Only I can't.

And so it waits, as always, to pull, to tug, to slice through things as it always does.

I owe to myself to keep trying.

The fact that I don't remember the first ~~time~~ still unnerves me.

This is going to be one of those moments that isn't indexed. Once it's out of the "last four" link loop out front,it will only be available from the table of contents. Perhaps you should start from there, now, and head in a different direction?

It is almost scary, almost peaceful at times, but lonely always. It is an attitude I've learned, and that (most times) suits me. Call it the calm at the eye of the storm.

thank you, for listening.