21/05/2017 § Leave a comment
Written around 2012
Church. It’s a loaded word which regardless of your religious beliefs usually invokes an instant emotional response.
How did you feel when I said it? When I hear the word church there’s a moment I become still like an animal that senses danger, I take a small sharp breath in and gather mental weapons and defences. There’s anger, and sadness, and respect, awe for the capacity of the human mind and worship for the idea of worship. I am obsessed with obsession.
A church is where you’re supposed to go to find peace. It’s where you’re supposed to go to have a revelation. It’s where you’re supposed to go to save your soul or have it saved by something else- depending on how lazy you are.
It’s a given, but I haven’t found any of these things and besides I don’t take givens I give new questions for taking. It’s why I used to argue with my teachers so much. It’s why I left the monastery when my questions received a music box repetition of ‘it’s tradition, it’s tradition’.
So take my questions because the things I write aren’t resolutions they are strings of ‘huhs?’ and ‘idunnos’. Because I have no fucking clue and neither do you and often I feel my mind is finite and if I don’t write, it will gain more and more pressure until gooey words trickle out my ears.
My heart is not as finite. On good days it is infinite but right now it is sick and can’t process the way it should. I need to heal it so please, take my questions, it’s a way of trying to heal:
What is my soul? How do I betray it? How do I get it back once betrayed? Someone give me holy water because I need to flush out my sickness. Someone call a doctor because I can’t identify why my heart is sick. I am breaking the ten commandments and practicing the seven deadly sins but I don’t see what I do as wrong. What if, you are drinking holy water from dirty cups, I am a dirty cup, constantly drinking myself with words. What if you are pumping water into already shrivelled cells. My cells are shrivelled.
I’ve seen people come back from such evil and sickness it’s a miracle they can still see the grass and the sky through goggles of blood. How do you know if you are beyond forgiveness and redemption? I’m not saying I’m not worthy of these things, I’m saying I’m not capable.
20/05/2017 § Leave a comment
Seeing him was a jolt through every part of my body. I am grateful our wounds never fully heal. I’m grateful to still love, and be as sensitive as ever. I am as raw and emotionally driven as I am practical and I know I will care about him for many years to come.
But I had and have enough respect and self knowledge to know that I was a round hole and he a square peg. And there’s not enough effort in the world on anyone’s part that could have made that right.
That cuts to the core of everything. The square, the circle. The triangle and the pentagon. Any two shapes you like.
I was reminded last weekend of my inability to help him hurting because I was the cause of the pain. I was reminded of this because I was the one hurting, and there was no-one who could help me. All I could do was wait and wait.
The cause of this was the worst (and one of the only) comedowns I have ever had and all I could do was panic and panic all Sunday afternoon and Monday. Tuesday was better, panic transformed into sadness (hello #suicidetuesday) and that was manageable. And then Wednesday it was over, the fog had lifted and I was happy and calm. I will never under-appreciate my mind for its naturally peaceful joy ever again.
I spent the working week at home and on Monday morning, halfway through the suffering, my dad picked me up from the train station.
He cried when we got in the car, short breath and panicked sobs. The emotions of seeing me for the first time in a good few months overcoming him. I – mid comedown and trying (mostly successfully) to hide the detachment, misery and anxiety overwhelming me – could not figure out how to respond although normally this is my forte. He, someone who has always been the most walled up blokey bloke you could ever meet, has no walls anymore. Since the day of the accident he is raw and suffering. What can I do to make it better? Nothing I know of or can figure out. I held his hand and I hugged him and I chatted about mundane things the best I could.
What a bloody weekend, I’ll look back and laugh at it for a while to come.
The man I went out with Saturday night, the one I got high with, I really like and it makes me feel needy and helpless. There’s nothing like limerence to make you feel out of control. I am trying to focus on myself and hoping it subsides.
I will always pick love as a priority above all else in my life.
I love people, I LOVE people, I love PEOPLE.
06/05/2017 § Leave a comment
I can relate far more than he knows and far more than I can ever tell him. How can I or the world be angry at someone who is trying so hard to be good, and is willing to make such large sacrifices so satisfy what he desperately needs to satisfy? I am lucky, in that I only have to reach out to touch what I need with my fingertips, and sometimes it hits me without reaching out at all. He has to run emotional and financial marathons to get there.
Winter feels like a bad dream because I’m living such a joyful spring. Was it really ever cold and grey?
I remember being younger and feeling that belonging anywhere, in a part of any interesting group, was all I would need in life. Now I belong in all kinds of places and it’s as good as I thought it would be. I have utter belief that I will find places to belong every year of my life till it’s over.
The doctor says if I don’t improve within 24 hours I should go to a&e. The relief it feels to get to a medical professional when you’re in pain and delirious cannot be understated. You forget when you’re well, suffering. And you forget it again, after. And most seconds of most days you forget the suffering of others.
To lie in the sun with friends, is there any greater happiness.
To play in the sun with friends, is there any greater happiness.
I feel like I’ve ran the marathon and I’m now strolling down the last leg to the finish line with a big grin on my face. So, so fucking close. When my routine changes even slightly I feel my soul crack open and sun flood in. How terrible life is when it becomes static. My soul needs motion and new experiences or else I die.
I am very good at reviving myself. I’ve never been the sort of person to wait for things to come along. I head out and grab them with both hands.
Every place is a friendly place when you open your heart. Everywhere I look there are good people.
Yeaterday Stanley and his little Terrier dog broke my heart. Today I am sewing it back together with threads I find. Here’s one, from a morning run in the cool air. Here’s one, from M saving me a seat on the train. Here’s another, from the offering of pancakes by F. Here’s another from the miracles of modern medicine.
13/04/2017 § Leave a comment
Sunshine, bbqs, beer, friends. Pure joy and fun. Last weekend I rejected the long term for the joys of the short term. Chose hedonism over dedication. Ate, drank and laughed for hours.
Each month is better than the last. This year is an upwards slope of happiness, and is slipping by recklessly. January was tough, but it is nearly mid April?!
Sunday morning the text came and I’m calling landlines and mobiles and finally got through and then I’m lost. That gut drop feeling I’ve not felt in years. That deja vu. That limbo. That how the hell do I fix this.
I am a fixer upper, it is my first reaction to any bad news. Calm face and how-do-I-fix-this brain.
I read it on the news, and screenshotted it. God knows what for.
We are preparing for the worst in all kinds of ways. I can’t bear to think of some of the things he must be feeling and thinking so I don’t go beneath the obvious ones. Sadness. Worry. I stop there. Mum says he hasn’t eaten in three days and managed a couple of mouthfuls finally tonight.
He doesn’t want anyone to know. He cried at work yesterday, trying to sort finances. My heart breaks a little. There really is only one pure type of love, and it’s the unconditional one that roots deep into your bones.
That’s reciprocal with me and him. And it’s worth all the gold on earth
It’s just change, I want to say. You can do this.
I went on a date Monday night and he was exactly my type, such a lovely person. I didn’t tell him what I learnt the day before, you don’t dump that on people you’ve just met. I dreamt of our future marriage and love, I let myself spiral away in harmless daydreams.
We’ve hired my replacement at work and my gut says she won’t last, but what the fuck do I know.
27/02/2017 § Leave a comment
He’s a Greek god from head to toe and most of the time I want nothing to do with it.
‘Have you been promiscuous lately?’ He asks.
‘Yes and no’ I said. ‘I’ve been having amazing fucked up sex. Connections, fantasies fulfilled, kinks, perversions. But not with many people. Have you been promiscuous lately?’
‘Not really. I’ve been studying and working.’
‘Do you miss it?’
‘Well I saw five girls last Sunday, two girls this week (in his language, saw means fucked). I forget how promiscuous I am because I’m studying and working so much. You like your kink, I like the chase and rough fucking. I feel lonely sometimes, but free and alive.’
‘Both our ways have their benefits and drawbacks. I never feel lonely, but I suppose I rarely feel free. Nice work with the five girls in one day. I feel inexplicably proud of your cock.’ (Why did I say this, did I really feel proud of his accomplishments? Was I trying to show I didn’t judge his promiscuity?)
‘Thanks. I live in my NQ flat now. Let me know if you want to fuck, stay over and fuck, or just need a place to to to stay over as a friend with no sex. You’re a cool kid.’
‘I may well take you up on the first one before I go to America.’
‘When do you go? Please say next week so we can fuck soon.’
‘June, it may be a long wait.’
‘Why would you want to wait? We may not be here next week. I half jest.’
Last time I saw him he wanted me to bite him until he bled, I relied on google about that then. I message my friend now who is a doctor. I ask her about the risk of disease or infection from oral sex with this man. This men who sleeps with five
new girls a week. Quite high she says, these things are easily transferable.
I wonder how many girls he fucks in his bed before he changes the sheets. I think how in an ideal world that wouldn’t matter at all. I think about what I mean when I think of the word pure.
His face is almost too beautiful to be real, but you best believe holding him would be no comfort at all.
01/10/2016 § Leave a comment
It’s been 3 weeks since we ended and after last night I finally feel able to be alone without people around me. For 21 days I have struggled with loneliness and spent every waking moment in the company of friends. The loneliness is still there of course, this world is made for two and I am cycling alone on a tandem bicycle. But I am finally able to rest alone, read alone, write alone, draw alone. Perhaps now I can settle into simply being myself.
I was mostly happy and yet it wasn’t enough. I will live and die for the right relationship. All that is important in life is the people in it, and no relationship is more important than the one with my partner. It has to be right. We have to connect on every level.
I’ve dissected him, picked at his imperfections and failings. Some of the things that make us not right are deep to the core, and pure. Needs which if not met crack our foundations thoroughly. Others are shallow, but still important. I appreciated the honesty we could have last night. We shared secrets and lies. We acknowledged ourselves.
I dreamed we did Halloween together. We dressed up together and went out into the world, and we interacted outside ourselves happily, separately and together, always with the invisible silver thread that connects couples together between us. A pipedream that will never happen.
I need to be mindful of myself. I need to be the best version of myself I can be. I need to learn to be alone, to settle into this without loneliness. Only then can I find a man that’s right for me.
28/06/2016 § Leave a comment
The news is full of the fears of Brexit. But we create our own little bubble. We carry it to the bedroom, a caravan, cinema, restaurants. And in it things are safe and warm. We discuss politics regularly, but with the knowledge of how impervious we are. We plan bright futures far away and cosy futures here. We have the ease of the young and healthy. Our only responsibilities are to our jobs. When our boat rocks, we know it won’t capsize.
Things are easy, gentle. My anxiety is as low as it could ever be. I’m filled with trust and warmth. What more could I ask for? Nothing, with any kind of acknowledgement for how lucky I am compared to most human life. I couldn’t ask for a drop more.
May I always be loved like this.
May I always love like this.