I guess I’ll start off with something that I might keep in
mind always or I might forget. So this will be a nice reminder. I normally
write when I’m wrought with emotion. Usually that means it’s negative emotion.
But I’m sure if I go back to some of the previous things I wrote that might not
be the case.
I just thought to myself, “Perhaps I should write down some
more positive things?”
I do write positive things all the time. I say and do positive
things all the time. I share those moments with people. I share them with my
friends. I share them on social media. As cliché and edgy as it’ll sound, those
are the parts that I let people see. That’s what I share with people. To say
that I should write more positive things makes it feel like I don’t write
anything positive. I could probably stand to write out my own private, positive
thoughts, but I do enjoy what I share.
That comes back to this piece of work.
Here I am, at work. Another late night/early morning where
the flow of time has become a haze. I sit in near silence except for faceless
clients that call for assistance. Otherwise it’s a few messages I can shoot out
to people but then even that usually stops around 2am. So then it’s just me and
silence in a small cube for the next 4.5 hours. It’s becoming maddening.
There are a couple of buffers that prevent me from going mad
however.
Beth and Phyll. I may not see them as often as either of
them would like (assuming they care) but I don’t think I could go this alone at
this point in my life. At certain other times, I might have been able to. But
not now. I’d most likely have snapped by now.
There’s also my weekly visits to Megan. We often just sleep
and drink, but even then, I enjoy her company. Her smile is radiating and I
love the sound of her laughter. The way her face expresses itself. When she
sleeps and she’s curled up is precious. I do like her very much. I adore her.
I’m falling for her. But I have no idea what we’re doing.
We both like each other very much. We’ve admitted that much.
But I think both of us have such little time and so many issues with ourselves
it’s hard to see us with another person. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m projecting.
Maybe I’m delusional as I have been so many times. I’m uncertain. Which is what
it usually comes down to. But I thought that was fine until I made the mistake
of having a hookup with someone who I’ve even written about before.
I had her over at my house. We had a couple glasses of wine
and we let it get to our heads, her more so than me surely. Even though I will
get to everything that happened, the moment I want to write about and
immortalize in writing is the one thing that kills me inside whenever I think
about it. Just the smallest moment that makes my heart sink whenever it pops
into my head.
As I spoke to her, I ran my hand across her cheek. For a
moment, she held it there. She held it there and pressed it closer to her face;
it was so warm. Then when my thumb rubbed by the side of her lips she lightly
bit it. There was just something so intimate about that moment. Perhaps she was
just trying to be sexy. Maybe she was trying to relax me. Regardless, I knew
that this was most likely going to be a one time thing.
Even so, that one moment made me yearn for intimate
companionship. She doesn’t enjoying making out or kissing. I do. Despite that
missing, I felt a longing for it. I just miss being able to physically connect
with someone on an emotional level. That’s what I miss most.
Between not being able to see people who I used to be able
to hold dearly in my life and not being able to have someone who can share with
me in physical intimacy and hold me dearly is taking its toll on me. If you’re
reading this (almost certainly without permission unless it’s me myself) I’m
not going to take my life into my hands. Too many depend on me. Too many need
me. I could not. But as the days go by, as the stress piles, as I lose sleep, I
can feel the rope of my life start to fray and the strands break. Once that rope
snaps and I reach the end, I guess we’ll just have to see how that goes.
Until then, I’ll just have to hold on to this rope of life.
[Continued the next day]
I read back to a previous post where I did mention the girl
by name: Sarah. I feel so weird; hung up on her. I’m not sure if I’m hung up on
her though at this point or just the idea of her. Reading back, it looks like
the biting is something I enjoyed even for that one moment. When she nibbled on
my hand. Because of course that’s a thing.
Not to mention the scumbaggery from the week previous. I’m
always tangled up with Keni for some reason. We just can’t seem to keep our
hands off of each other. There’s just some kind of bond between us that I wish
I could be a decent person and shake.
Yet that night ended up with her straddling me and us dry
humping, starving for each other’s flesh. I, of course, initiated all of this.
The shining example of loneliness, desperation, and apathy for any who wasn’t
me. I’m such a deplorable person. I’m just a mess. No matter what I try to say
to myself or what I do for other people. It’s all to hide that at the end of
the day, curled up, I’m just a slave to my own libido.
I lack self-control and crave self-satisfaction.
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