hate mail

….As Janis Joplin said…freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose. I write this now because I’m free.  I write this now because you have freed me from the necessity of walking on egg shells when it comes to you and my relationship with you.  I write this now because I can finally express myself without fear that you will retaliate against me.  Perhaps you’ve employed mignons to report to you. Knowing that there is no one on earth who has any loyalty to you, reporting is unlikely.  But if anyone does, and I certainly hope they do, I hope they’ll report to you verbatim and not with the flourishes and deletions which may reflect their inability to full grasp the intensity of my words.

So here it is….
You are a boy.  A child.  A mere child who changes with the seasons.  Not one expression from your lips has ever ever been in line with another.  Contradictions. Lies.  Why?
I used to hurt for you.  I used to feel sorry for you.  I used to worry.  When I came to terms with the fact that you’d never experienced love….not even from the ones you loved…when I full understood that concept, I felt bad.  I wanted to love you like you’d never been loved.  I wanted to shower you with affection and expression.  I wanted to drown you in my love….
But, because you have never been loved, you cannot love.  You do not know how to love.  You cannot love…in all truth, you cannot love anything that is not you, yourself.  You only love yourself.  You selfish prick.  Prick…ahh.  What an appropriate adjective to describe you.
Ahh…so your fault lay in your inability to accept love.  Inability, yes. For you do not know what true love is.  You have never been loved and so you are incapable of loving.  Your capacity for it is shallow.  Your level of comprehension for it, flat.
And there it is.  You are one of the most insecure people that has ever lived.  Insecurity seeps through your pores.  You are nearly identical to that parent which you so despise.  You are a carbon copy.  The vindictiveness.  The insecurity.  The inability to be present without being in the spotlight.  The inability to interact with comfort, disguised as withdrawn snobbism.  The offensive attitude. The inability to maintain relationships, even with the people you are directly related to.  Ironic, huh? The one person who is inconsistent, unpredictable, with whom you share the most volatile relationship…you are most like.

How could anyone expect you to be different?
It’s no surprise to me.  I should have caught on earlier.  I knew I shouldn’t give you the time of day when I saw you in that god-awful shiny t-shirt and matching hat that you paid useless money for.  I should have known.  I should have known when all you could talk about was your UGLY (yes, it’s ugly because of its color) “coupe” and cocktails. I should have known.  But I let you in.  I let you tear me down. There were days I didn’t want you to have my phone number.  I was afraid.  Afraid you’d harass me with your annoying (yes annoying) conversation topics.  I hesitated! That moment when I left you stranded in LA because I had no desire to spend time with you for fear that you had feelings for me that went deeper than I’d ever feel for you…that was the moment I should have embraced.

But it was you who told me to believe.  It was you who begged me to understand. I loved you against my better judgment.  I held back.  But no…you promised me a fairy tale.  You told me to trust you.  You assured me.  You said this was the real deal.  And…I surrendered.  Perhaps I was bored.  Perhaps I was vulnerable.

Perhaps I wanted to care.  Sometimes, I wonder if I ever really did.

You didn’t deserve it though.  You didn’t deserve my sentiment.  You didn’t deserve even a smidgen of my emotions.  I poured it on you.  Like lines that are rehearsed in anticipation for a big show.  And, so…I delivered.  You claimed I’d done too much.  And I had.  When I confronted my own demons in trying to discover why I had gone beyond what you deserved, I discovered I was literally trying to fool myself.  Not you.  But myself.  I was trying to fool myself into thinking I cared more than I did.  Why else would I overcompensate so extremely?
Classic overcompensation.

But have no fear.  I felt it the moment I lost you.  I felt it the moment your eyes caught sight of her.  You called her a slut.  You said she’d broken your heart.  You said she was a gold-digger.  But you truly deserve nothing more.  And so…you gave in.  How did she end things with you? I’ll never know.  I do know your version of the story.  But that version is, by default, false.  So, I’ll never really know.  And that’s alright…

I shouldn’t care.  The bottom line is…everyone who feigns emotion for you ultimately expresses their emotions to another…and by this, I mean they have no loyalty to you.  They are not faithful to you.  Me, being loyal—beyond loyal—to most…even I was in the arms of another the night you broke my heart.  But in being with you, that moment of surrender to another had not been the first.
Sometimes I still wonder why people put up with your idle chatter and your deceptive ways…then I realize, everyone loves to stop and watch a train wreck.

Don’t fret though.  You wear that look well.  The look of sadness…eyes wet with tears, feeling the raw sting of your fears.  It will always be your turn to feel the burn.  To wake up to a world that is ugly, to wonder and to worry…

You are on a crack-induced high now.  And by “crack”, I mean…#######.  (So what if you look like a million bucks? Even a million dollars is pretty much green and shriveled up.)  At the end of the day, you are hollow.  You choose to live in the world of the superficial.  And so, I know you probably won’t even read this all the way through.  You’ll merely use it as a bit of juice to get you through the next tough hurdle.  And that’s ok.  Use it.   It wouldn’t be the first time that I gave you the best of me.  Interestingly, you brought out the worst in me.  But thankfully, you are no longer mine.  My fickle friend.  No longer mine.  Resentment is the inheritance I bequeath to you, and you alone.

In my life…I have loved.  I have lost.  I have experienced ego-crushing, heart-shattering, soul-wrenching pain.  I have experienced envy and fear.  I have experienced appreciation and adoration.  I have endured life-changing affection and calm.  I have been stretched mentally.  I have been dug at—-emotionally.  I am chiseled, yet imperfect.  I know what I am capable of at my best.  I know how wretched I can be at my worst.

But you…you do not deserve the limitlessness of my emotion.  You are an error of my heart.  You are a glitch…in my reality.  You are beneath me.  These words, even at their simplest, are beyond what you can comprehend.

The pain you caused me is no longer raw.  My ability to soar and conquer is ripe again.  I bid you adieu. You overgrown child.  You miserable, soulless creep.  Good riddance.  Fare.thee.well.

the one who knows me best…

He throws out a piece of advice, on the heels of a casual “As the person who knows you best…” and I can’t help but be offended, not by his advice, but by his nonchalantness. The person who knows me best? As if it’s that simple, that uncomplicated. As if it’s an easy feat to accomplish. And I put up no defense. Why? Why defend yourself against the truth? How would you even begin?

If I am an onion, with skin, and layers, that go all the way down to the bulb, would I not be better recognized by the one who took the time to peel it all away…layer by layer? Until I was exposed? Complications being tossed to and fro. And what about the ones who come, take a knife at you, cut you down the middle and peer at all the layers that lay beneath you, in absolute symmetry. Do they see you for who you are? Perhaps. But do they recognize the reasons why, and where it stems from? Do they possess the ability to take that bulb, and plant it beneath the soil? To take you apart only to plant you on fertile ground, and watch you blossom, and grow….into a better, more beautiful, more refined, more flavorful ‘onion’…?
Ahh.

Perhaps not..

So why is it, I wonder, that the ones who know you best have seen you at your worst. Not once, not twice, not just “over the years”…but repeatedly, day in and day out. The ones who are exposed to every fiber of an existence that cannot be exposed or held out so readily to the masses of the world. Funny. Funny how hard we are on ourselves when we are in a constant pursuit of evolution, self-improvement, betterment. It’s amazing how hard we can be on ourselves. But the true value of that experience lies in knowing that we fully appreciate our abilities, embrace our faults, and accept that we can evolve past them. At least that is what inspires us to take a noble stance on it.

And so they say…they say that half of being smart is knowing what you’re dumb about. Interesting. Right? There’s a rare sophistication in realizing that the more you know, the less you need to show. It’s a rare art, to admit the things we suck at… So when he looks at me and prefaces his solid, resonating advice with “As the one who knows you best…” I want to walk away. I want to say “you don’t”. And no matter how many times we’ve argued the point, it is impossible to deny that this is why he is such a meaningful variable in the process of my evolution. This is the reason why he and I possess the experience of more than a decade of admitting what we don’t know and the wealth of sharing what we have understood. This is what allows us to see the world from multiple perspectives.

Our opinions collide and complement one another on the truest of virtues. Ethics, morality… But then come the why’s. The details about the why’s of attitudes, behavior, habits. And the debates escalate. But all it does, in the end, is allow us to be less ‘myopic’…less narrow-minded. It hurts sometimes to expand our way of thinking, to account for objectivity and subjectivity from the people who observe us, analyze us, and know us well…or in this case, “the best”…

So does it terrify me that he says it so casually? Does it bother me that he says it so nonchalantly? He’s the one who possesses the burden of knowing my heart and mind in a way he claims others cannot. The weight is his to carry…
Not mine.

When all is said and done, he’s challenged me to be the person I was meant to become. The person I’m still becoming. And who better to do that…than “the one who knows you best”?

guy friends

Guy friends are cool.  They offer a different perspective.  They keep it real.  They give you raw, real advice that your girlfriends might otherwise sugarcoat, overanalyze, or fail to be sincere about. Bottom line, guy friends are good friends to have…
They tell you what a guy is thinking (more often, NOT thinking).  They explain game plans.  They break it down for you into bite-size pieces.  They strip our perspective on fresh love and relationships of the idealism and self-serving twist we put on it.  THIS IS ULTRA-VALUABLE.  If they think highly of you, they tell you not to worry and that the awesomest guy will never make you doubt him.  If they’re into you, they’ll talk you out of being with him, with hopes that you’ll fall for them.
But every so often, I fall into a danger zone with my male buds.  This danger zone manifests when they feel so ultra-comfortable with you, so real, so genuine, that they talk to you as though you were another dude.  It’s danger zone b/c this comfort allows them to express things, that as a girl…you may not want to know.  Correction, you shouldn’t know.
Example…they tell you about a guy’s “rotation”.  How he dates numerous girls, and when it’s your turn, you get the call, you get the text, you get the chill-session.  They tell you about their own infidelities…my least fave.  They make it seem so common, so casual, so natural, that you wonder whether Mr. Awesome will even be immune to this.  They take our most romantic pursuits, our most cherished desires to feel secure, nurtured, loved and they transform it into an animalistic desire, on the part of men, and they leave us thinking that men only want “one thing”…
It’s annoying.
They tell you how little guys care about feelings or reputation.  They tell you how low they can be, how they can go after your friends, how they can disappoint you, how they can forget about you…and how they can never multi-task which makes it easy for them to just “act” like they don’t care (cuz they often DON’T or can’t).
But every so often, they show you parts of their emotional nature, a little piece of their feminine side.  This is where it all gets confusing.  This is where I look at my guy friends and think: “Awww…what a sweetheart…”  This is where they become like a girlfriend and make me doubt all the dumb, emotionless ways they paint other men.  This is where they give you a glimpse into their psyche…their truest emotions.  This is where we fall and think, wow, they have feelings.  Wow, they care.  Wow, they notice.  Wow, they are just like usss.
Hmm.
Is this good? I dunno.  Is it realistic?  I dunno.  Is this who they really are? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…
Maybe they are more complicated than they admit? Maybe they do have feelings and they do care…they do wonder and worry and plan and scheme and over-analyze.  Or maybe…I’m just being a girl and hoping they do.

i never thought you could break my heart

I never thought you would break my heart. You were the sweetest, the funniest, the most sincere….

You made loving you—easy. No one had ever been so noble. No one had ever been so self assured. The only ones that had words so perfectly tailored, were the players. [The ones good girls, like me, didn’t bother with.]

Then, you came along. Out of “nowhere”…but it felt “perfect”…just as my prayer requests had specified. And so, you started with the boyish charms, the raw statements…you recognized and valued the very things I wanted to be known for. It all fell into place. My head told me, “Go!” and my heart had no room to object.

Speculation, imagination, dreams…the true manifestation, in the flesh, of the very thing my sad, tipsy, sappy mind had called out in that brief email, penned out on a BlackBerry, in dead winter, in the middle of a crowded San Francisco club—the very night I’d met you.

What did I want? A boy…to cuddle with, to have sushi dates with, to fall asleep on the phone with, to be appreciated by, to admire, to have a consistent, solid connection to.

You sailed in. Effortlessly, almost on queue. You weren’t an ill-fated demi-god like the @$$holes before you. You were “wonderful”…And boy…did I fight it.

“Words, words, words…” I told myself. Mere words. Were you a flirt? Were you messing with me? Why couldn’t I trust this perfect feeling? What was making me feel so adamantly “no bueno” about every beautiful word that you muttered?

Was I effed up?

Yes.

By bozo’s who didn’t appreciate me?

Yes.

Was I making the biggest mistake of my life by not giving you the chance to sweep me off my feet?

Yes…yes…YES!

And you never let me forget it.

I gave up the control I desperately maintained over my thoughts (it’s really all I had) and my heart lit up and took control. Euphoria. “Meant to be…” Dream come true.

Which is why, from that moment on, my intuition, my heart, my mind, my body, my soul…never doubted you. Not for a minute. Not even for a second.

I could never hurt you…precious one. I would never let you down…dearest one. You lit up my heart. You made it easy to love you. And true love…

unlike all other things that pass…

true love…

it never dies.

gotta let it do what it do

How often have you heard the story about boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl likes guy back, guy leaves girl, girl cries and suffers and pines, girl gets over him, guy wants her back?

More than 5-6 years ago, I remember asking an older, way more experienced guy-friend about this. He said, “Look at it this way, a girl gets dumped, what does she do…? She goes to her friends, cries, complains, gets mad…she stays at home on Saturday nights, refuses dates, eats a sh*t-ton of ice cream, watches sad movies, listens to sad love songs, writes about it, cries about it some more, and sooner or later, she’s cried all her tears and she’s out in the world, she has a new hairstyle, she’s back at the gym, and she’s ready to meet someone new…”

I said, “Uh huh, ok…so?”

He said, “And what does a guy do?”

I had no idea.

He went on, “He goes out with his buddies, they drink, they toast to single-dom, they toast to freedom, he meets new girls, he messes around, he enjoys his free time, he takes weekend trips, meets more girls, drinks some more, parties some more…”

I nodded…”ok?” All the while, I was thinking, “Lucky bastard.”

He interrupted my thoughts, “By the time his ex is moving on, he feels that there’s a void, conscious or not he realizes he never properly mourned his lost relationship, he realizes he didn’t give it to the attention it deserved, he realizes he’s made a mistake and he sends her an ambiguous text message…makes an effort to re-connect…”

I said, “Uh huh?”

“And so starts the cycle…he left her, she had no choice but to get over him, he didn’t even try, he didn’t even care, and finally, finally…he recognizes he let a good thing go and he’s scrambling to get it back…”

Eh, it makes a bit of sense. But I’m still not convinced.

[Sidenote: That guy broke his girl’s heart, let the cycle run as it should, he always said “Gotta let it do what it do”…and now they are happily married with three beautiful little girls…]

Gotta let it do what it do.

Then, my girlfriend, as innocent and mildly experienced as I am, came about and filled me in on a diagram her older brother expressed to her. She said, “So it starts like this…”

BOY —–> —–> GIRL [Boy chasing/pursuing girl]

“You reciprocate the feeling and you’re here…”

BOY —–> <—– GIRL [Girl falls]

“Suddenly, you find yourself…”

BOY <—– <—– <—– GIRL [Girl overcompensates…Boy is running the other way]

::LIGHTBULB MOMENT::

“So,” she continued, the goal is to turn it all around to when he was chasing you…”

And so, I reflected on this. I wrote about it. Amazingly, although I’d seen it work in past relationships, it’s always hard to apply it to a current fling, or a recent experience. You’re often left feeling so deflated, insecure, disappointed, and let down that you buy the negative “self talk” and you actually fail to recognize your value (unless of course you’re a floozy, a wh*re, an immature drama queen, or a useless dumb girl…in that case, I’m pretty sure you’re not reading this…!).

There are lyrics galore about a lost love returning and the singer saying they don’t want them anymore…and I always wonder, how does it feel to be wanted again by someone who hurt you? In my experience, I generally “knew better”…the second, sometimes third (or fourth), in one memorable experience, the 10,000th time around. Bottom line, by the end of a cyclical, god-awful relationship, I knew it was bad for me to fall that last time and I held back, but had I given in before?

Certainly.

Peaches and Herb sang it best with “Reunited”…:

Reunited and it feels so good

Reunited ’cause we understood

There’s one perfect fit

And, sugar, this one is it

We both are so excited

‘Cause we’re reunited, hey, hey…

Cher and Peter Cetera told us:

After all the stops and starts

We keep coming back to these two hearts

Two angels who’ve been rescued from the fall

And after all that we’ve been through

It all comes down to me and you

I guess it’s meant to be

Forever you and me

After all

My most favorite song on the topic, Elvis came back and let us know that we were always on his mind:

 

Maybe I didn’t love you quite as good as I should have,

Maybe I didn’t hold you quite as often as I could have,

Little things I should have said and done,

I just never took the time.

 

 

Maybe I didn’t hold you all those lonely, lonely times,

And I guess I never told you, I’m so happy that you’re mine,

If I made you feel second best,

I’m sorry, I was blind.

 

 

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died,

Give me, give me one more chance to keep you satisfied,

If I made you feel second best,

I’m sorry, I was blind.

 

 

You were always on my mind,

You were always on my mind.

 

Everyone’s favorite, a classic: “I will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor:

At first I was afraid

I was petrified

Kept thinking I could never live

Without you by my side

But then I spent so many nights

Thinking how you did me wrong

And I grew strong

And I learned how to get along

And so you’re back

From outer space

I just walked in to find you here

With that sad look upon your face

I should have changed that stupid lock

I should have made you leave your key

If I’ve have known for just one second

You’d be back to bother me

One I re-discovered yesterday, “Karma” by Alicia Keyes:

Weren’t you the one who said that you don’t want me anymore?

And how you need your space and give the keys back to your door?

And how I cried and tried and tried to make you stay with me

And still you said your love was gone and that I had to leave…

Now you’re Talking bout a family

Now you’re saying I complete your dreams

Oh

Now you’re sayin I’m your everything

You’re confusing me

What you saying to me, don’t play wit me, don’t play wit me!

And the one that feels super-close to my heart:

Phil Collins’ “Separate Lives”:

Well you have no right to ask me how I feel

You have no right to speak to me so kind

Some day I might (I might) find myself looking in your eyes

But for now, we’ll go on living separate lives

Yes for now, we’ll go on living separate lives

Separate lives

Countless times, I’ve stood by Bob Seger who so simply said:

We’ve got tonight, who needs tomorrow?

We’ve got tonight babe

Why don’ you stay?

And I’ve definitely taken the Juice Newton route, referring to myself as the “Angel of the Morning”:

There’ll be no strings to bind your hands

Not if my love can’t bind your heart

And there’s no need to take a stand

For it was I who chose to start

There’s no need to take me home

I’m old enough to face the dawn

Just call me angel of the morning, angel

Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby

Just call me angel of the morning, angel

Then slowly turn away from me

Maybe the sun’s light will be dim

And it won’t matter anyhow

If morning’s echo says we’ve sinned

Well, it was what I wanted, now

And if we’re the victims of the night

I won’t be blinded by the light

After experiencing every one of these feelings, I still stand by what I felt and knew when I was 20. TRUE LOVE NEVER DIES. Regardless of what happens, who walks away, if fate will turn it all around and lead you back to the arms of the one who pushed you away, so be it. It will. There is nothing you can do, say, think, express, feel that will make it happen or NOT happen. TRrrRRrrrrrust me.

Aaliyah said she’s never comin’ back:

I gave you all of my love, all to you

and you don’t appriciate the things that i do (things that i do)

I gave you all of my time cause you blew my mind

I let you do me wrong cause your love had me so blind ( i was blind)

But we may never know what she decided.

Does love really blind us? Nah. It makes us a little cross-eyed. We reflect but we don’t absorb. We ignore the things that make us feel uncomfortable. Then they explode in our faces and we can’t help but take notice.

Lookin’ at my BFF Carrie, who suffered 6 long years with Mr. Big, took a 4 year hiatus from us all (where we assume they were happily living toward a long-term union), then allowed us to watch that grueling year of torturous heartache that he put her through AGAIN, I learned lots of lessons. I was so over Big through that movie. Completely over him. He did it to her AGAIN. When people show you who they are…”believe them”…(remember that?). But he did it to her again. She put up with it, again. And then what? The beautiful wedding at the MET became a wedding at the downtown Courthouse (the way she wanted it to begin with)…and soon enough, we’ll see what’s happened to them. Yet again. Has he become a good guy? Is he finally a stand up guy who’s not gonna leave her? I hope so!! She deserves it. Once and for all…but even she, years ago, when they were talking about reincarnation…expressed:

Mr. Big: What would you come back as?

Carrie: Someone who knows better.

Ahh, did she? Has she? Not as far as I’m concerned. Have I? Am I? Rationally, yes. Life-experience wise, yes. Emotionally, no. Why? B/c love doesn’t change. Feelings don’t die, they just transform. Good or bad. I hope that my dying breaths express the same sentiments as I feel now…TRUE LOVE NEVER DIES. TRUE FAITH NEVER FADES. And so…just like Carrie and Big, we gotta stay tuned. They’re shooting movie #2. I’ll keep you posted on mine.

damaged goods

who isn’t? i’m damaged. certainly. nicks, bruises, bumps, dents…

i secretly love going to IKEA and visiting the ‘as is’ department.  what a joy.  i love examining things and seeing what a savings one can enjoy, just b/c a dresser is missing a handle, or a table is nicked, or a lamp isn’t stable on its base.  funny.  i kinda like it.

my mom on the other hand, has to buy an item, from the back, in a box, a box that’s not dented, damaged, bumped…anything.

but i like to take things “as is”…

after all, life comes to us “as is”

we don’t get to pick our families.  we don’t get to pick the people we work with.  we don’t get to choose our circumstances OR lifestyle for at least the first 14-18 years of our lives.  we don’t get to choose our looks.  we don’t get to choose our eye color (unless you believe in colored contacts, which i don’t).  we don’t get to choose our teachers…not til we get to college at least.  we don’t get to choose our IQ.  we don’t get to choose our talents…and most of our abilities are innate.  our personalities are tailored in the womb.  and yet, we have such high demands of others…

people say: “oh so and so has so much baggage”

people break-up: “she had too much baggage”

ok…how is it possible, to live out your life to an age past 25 years old and NOT have baggage?  everyone carries around some random, lame, dumb, scary, life-changing, traumatic, defining experience from when they were 1, or 5, or 12, or 16, or 21…right?

some of us carry around a random, lame, dumb, scary, life-changing, life-stretching, traumatic, defining, “how will i ever recover from something so huge” experience from when we were 1, 5, 12, 16, AND 21.  does that mean we have too much baggage?  no, it really just  means we LIVED.

ok, some things are tough to accept…kids, former spouses, rehab recoveries, crazy families…BUT THEN AGAIN, they are so common, how can we avoid ’em??? you can’t.

you have to take everyone “as is.”  it’s like buying a watermelon, is there a guarantee that it will be sweet? juicy? taste good at all? NEVERRR…

it’s a gamble.  so are people.  but in life, in relationships…you come “as is”.  you can fake it, for a while. never forever.  but you always come “as is.”

so when someone i love tells me they’re damaged, all i can think is “i know, and that’s why you’re beautiful…to me.”  like flaws, vulnerabilities…maybe if i was hand-picking, i’d opt out.  but this isn’t a brand new car…and let’s admit, it’s not till we get that first scratch on a new car, that we can actually relaxxx…and enjoy it.

to me, the true definition of “love” is “come as you are…”

so–

next time you start doubting yourself…remember that i love you.  i love your quirks.  i love your circumstances.  i love your past.  i love your experiences.  i love your flaws. by love, i don’ t mean i enjoy it or i take pleasure in it. i mean, i love them b/c they are a part of you.  i accept them.  i embrace them.  i cherish them.  they are all the true contributors to you being the complicated, sensitive person…you are.  and i love you.

love my life.

Yeaaaah.

Riiiiiiiight.

I’ve always referred to him as “the love of my life”..easily, casually, commonly, comfortably. He had no name, but “the love of my life.” People would stop and say, “Gosh, I don’t even know who the love of *my* life is…” And in my elitist way, I’d feel a sense of self-assuredness knowing I’d identified *mine* and I could rest easy for no one else would compare. Good or bad.

BUT the honest truth is I’ve hated him everyday for the past nine years. Even our moments of elation were consistently woven with HATE. How is it possible to love someone you hate? (Even just a little.)

WELL–We’ve all heard of of “love-hate” relationships. It can be a relationship with a sibling, a parent, a boss, a romantic partner…”love-hate” relationships span every possible relation. A “love-hate” relationship occurs when people have completely lost the intimacy within a relationship, yet retain some sort of passion or commitment toward one another.

Passion, yes.

Commitment, never.

Intimacy…?

It was an evolution toward an obligatory friendship…where grudges from the past never quite disappeared. Yet in some unique way, it added depth to my character, it added dimension to my life, it expanded my capacity to feel…it stretched my soul, dug deep into my mind, and gave my heart the ability to LOVE another…

BUT, I’ve seen what “love” is now…at least what it is supposed to be. Love is pure. Love is so pure that nothing can taint it. It’s a care that goes beyond reason…beyond human understanding. It’s that level of unconditional affection/expression/emotion that you can *only* *only* *only* give someone whom you are completely selfless with.

Selfless.

Who loves us selflessly? Parents. Pure selflessness…putting their own desires, benefit, preferences AFTER ours. At least they are supposed to. Interesting, eh?

I’m grateful. I can see what love can do to a person now. Love makes you feel what the other person feels. It makes you cry over what pains the other person. It makes you angry when they are hurt. It takes your own desires, your own preferences, your own comfort…and it places them on the back-burner. And love, makes you do this, without a second thought. Love makes you forget what it is you wanted and makes you aware of another person’s happiness and feelings as acutely as completely as you are of your own.

How jaded…

How crazy…

How lame…

…could I have possibly been to have thought that *he* was the love of my life. Far from! More like the burden on my soul. The black cloud of gloom over my life. The pain in my heart that kept me from ever being free and happy with anyone else. Which is why, once I cut him out and cut him off…my life became an open field, open to limitless love and joy and possibilities that he would obviously prefer to suffocate.

And new love, flooded in…

Ahh…the freedom to “live” without being smothered by someone’s selfish desires, demands, and control.

This new love, lasting or not, final or temporary, absolute or partial…no one knows, for this life gives us NO guarantees. Weddings are called off, engagement rings are returned, spouses cheat, spouses DIE…but whatever this love is, it has taught me how beautiful and pure it can be. The truest and most valuable lesson I could have possibly learned…

It’s nothing. But it’s love…

And now, when I am immersed in it, I feel like someone different. Somebody more like *myself*….

low.

Somehow, it feels like it’s the absolute worst betrayal when it comes from someone you thought was a friend.

But the truth is…you’ve done all the hurting.  You’ve done all the reprimanding. You’ve done all the disappointing.  You dirty, dirty, scum bag.  Insensitivity is your middle name.  Had you not been so insensitive, would you cheat on your girlfriend as readily and as comfortably as you do?  Would you?  Anger runs so thick through my veins.  So much so that my entire essence is stripped of the desire to show you any kindness, care, or concern.

It’s done.  “Enough is enough….”

You think, as always, that somehow, we can salvage this.  That we’ll be “here” again.  With Ol’ Faithful.  Right?  You always do.  And it happens that way, doesn’t it?  Waves crash, tides run high, paths run different courses and some way, somehow…the round and round game we play leads our paths to cross yet again.

This time, it’s different.  This time, the disgust is real.  This time, it’s not pain.  This time, it’s utter betrayal, the kind that seeps deep into my being.  No questions asked.  As always, no answers provided.  But this, my friend, is the last time you’ll be breaking my heart….

The very last.

I’ve watched you…FOR YEARS…through eyes of love, through eyes of admiration, through eyes of respect…only to find that you are a despicable, no-good, ungrateful, pathetic little twerp.  With friends who *fail* to satisfy.  With a girlfriend who obviously falls short of what you innately desire.  With a career, as off-path and underwhelming as your wretched little heart.  You are sad.  Because as much as these words drip from my lips…as much as I wish I could lay them on you…thick and heavy…coat you with them…paint you with them…implant you with them…

I’ve lost the desire.

How cold-hearted have I been? How out of character?  How careless?  How short in terms of chatter?  How insentient in terms of concern?  How stoic in terms of expression?

…how veryyy OUT of character.  Huh?

Get used to it.  Your days of favor are over.

Your insensitivity sparks crudeness, vindictiveness, and HATE in my heart.  But alas, revenge is not mine.  Never can be.  You will learn your lesson in such a way, such a method, with such intensity and creativity…that even I will shudder to witness it. This, I know.

Someday, your days of desperation will peak.  Someday, someone will build you up to an explosion, then drop you like the piece of trash that you are.  And it won’t be undeserved as I can’t help but ask: What kind of twisted, heartless, selfish human being are you?  Acting like a saint…who do you try to fool?  Your politeness…it’s a sham.  You came to me, complained that you were lazy and being unproductive.  You played on my sympathies, telling me you were lonely…telling me you were depressed.  Why? So you could abuse my potential?

NO MORE.

hatin’ on you

Hatin’ on you comes so easy. It’s as if you want me not to care. You tell me I should be a bitch to you like I’m a bitch to everyone else. Do you do this intentionally? You coward. You piece of crap. Bullying me…when no one else would even dare. You want me not to care. You want me to brush you off like the lint that you are. Lint.

Is it a defense mechanism? for you to tell me how I’m different. strange. weird. eccentric. huh? I am? How bout…”you’re special.” “one of a kind” “priceless”. I know I am. You know I am. But the only way you can put it into words is by putting me down?

Why don’t you share your struggles with someone else, huh? Cuz they don’t care? Or all they can offer is an “aww” and a frown? Is that what you want from me? It seems you do. I’ll try. It just doesn’t come easy to me to be so ruthless with you. It’s not like I’ve ever succeeded. But I can try. I know it’s what you deserve. And in life, we should all get what we deserve.

So, if I stripped you of my sweet sentiment and indescribable quality of affection and attention…would you be happier? Let’s face it. You cry when I tell you I’m walking away. But it’s best for me. Don’t you see that? Of course you do. But you always want what is best for you.

So why am I talking in circles? Telling myself things that I should have learned years ago. Why am I struggling with this? You’re a PRICK. You are the prick. Telling me the other guys who walk in and out of my life are pricks. When all the while you are El Pricko Grande. Hah! You wrote the book on Prickism. You are the creator of Prickery.

Hey Prickster! It’s still hard for me to say it but I really think you need to go and live your life with the bogus boys and bimbos of the world. The bogus boys you claim are your friends and the useless bimbos you fill up your time with. They are not quality. Do you see that?

I KNOW I’m the most valuable person in your life. You probably do too. But since your actions don’t display that, your knowledge is ineffective, uninfluential, and USELESS.

So, put that knowledge into action and prove to me that I am what I know I am to you. Otherwise, you’re going to lose me. And you’re gonna lose me fast.

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poesy of old

I wished you could die and leave me to live
But mostly hoping you could justify my desire to forgive
Wishing you cared enough to give me one stupid reason
But now I see you are a mere boy who changes with the seasons

As my emotions persist but my feelings subside
I won’t say I love you but I honestly try
Wishing it was real and hoping it was pure
But rotten is rotten and through it, evil ensues

I know I deserve this because I know how much I tried
Fighting a battle where my emotions suffered but my character thrived
I want to believe that you gave it all that you would
But every damn day I wished to forget you but it’s not like I could

Years of divine passion scorched to the root
Absorbing my sensitivity in the core of your heart
Killing my innate desire for anyone else
Stealing my best years, leaving me a mess

Years pass and I still stand before you,
Less and less bare, but still by your window
Vulnerably destroying a tie that God himself could not sever
Constantly wishing you away so I could banish you forever

You coddle me with sentiment, grasping me, tighter and tighter
Enveloping your pride around my fake laughter
Considering a life without me as dull
Selfishly clawing at the mind your thoughts call

You no longer suck the life out of my days
But I look around at all my potential and see it in a haze
You’ve created a role that even you can’t fulfill
You’ve left me to wander alone, all alone still

I see myself here, many years older,
Brighter perhaps but all the more tender
Haunted by a vision a vision of discontent and pain
Through eyes that see you suffer, suffer in vain