the weirdest thing, is feeling love for certain peoples...
and pain at the same time.
a horrible mixture of happiness and great sadness

I honestly don't know
i hurt.. I hurt
and on one side, I want to cry
and on the other, i want to laugh
I want to do both.
how do you express several different emotions at once and be understood..

honestly...
that's all I want.
for all my demands on him to feel the pain I feel
all I really want, is for him to understand.
to sit down, and apologize.
and say he understands.
just say you understand Jason. You don't even have to love me back. You don't have to say it. if you don't feel it. But feel this, feel my pain, understand my pain.... respect my pain.

I love you. I do. And with all the time I've spent contemplating, reflecting, debating, tossing, turning.... going over what happened again and again
analyzing, re, and re, and re analyzing
bringing in psychology... going through my old psychology books and notes... seeking a better understanding, a better grip... a better handle
on why.
on how.
it literally changed
over night.

How you can know how I feel... beyond reasonable doubt how I feel... and act the way you do... try to talk to me, as if nothing happened... as if everything's gravy... as if I didn't hurt
as if I don't hurt.

I find difficulty in trying to smile around you, knowing without a doubt, that I'm NAUGHT with you. And yet, somehow I manage to force it out. The hardest thing to swallow, is it's getting easier to pretend on the outside... holding it all in.

just so you're happy, and not burdened.

I'd show you all my pain, if I knew you'd listen. If I knew you wanted to know...if I knew you cared...

you're my angel
you're my darling angel.

i love her. i do.
just thinking of her, makes me feel good.
makes me feel alive.
makes me happy.
she's wonderful.
if only i could show her.
but i don't know how.

there's this wonderful feeling that's enveloping me.
This freedom that's overcoming me.
This freedom from pain.
This freedom from discomfort.
This freedom from agony.

for every conscious and subconscious action or thought you make against my being, it shall be returned three fold.
for every conscious and subconscious action or thought you make against my being, it shall be returned three fold.
for every conscious and subconscious action or thought you make against my being, it shall be returned three fold.

in elementary school we get upset when the person we're interested in holds hands with another
in middle school we get upset when the person we're interested in kisses another
in highschool we get upset when the person we're interested in goes out with another
in adult life, we get upset when the person we're interested in fucks another

amazing how complicated things get

i remember when it was a simple note
with check yes, no or maybe
i miss those notes.
i miss the simplicity.

if I could go back, I'd apologize to all the guys I brushed off
whose notes I exploited
whose hearts I broke
I'd apologize to them all
and give 'em a chance

Just because they weren't the badass
they weren't the mysterious, dark guy
they weren't the ones that stimulated my fantasies
they weren't the ones that made me gush with a look
they weren't the ones hiding how they felt
denying how they felt
leading me on and up
to bring me down

I'd give them a chance
because they were sincere
and honest
with their emotions
and feelings.

....
I got nothing from you.
Emotionally, mentally, physically... monitarily
NOTHING
so in turn, there is nothing to miss.
ironic, how it figures out, once the mind clears the emotion fog out
I have no keepsakes
no memory inducers
nothing.
and that, makes it easier
Thank you, Jason Vaughn
thank you.
For not giving me anything.
Not even an orgasm
to miss.

I love you, Goodbye.

I just want to think about it.
I don't want to talk about it.
But they all, bring it up.
They all, have their comments
they all, have twenty two cents
to put in
to the jar
of chaos
and destruction
and pain
that is
my life
right now
.

I've gone quiet
I've gone silent
I've gone mute
emotionally
mentally
physically
as if the circuit breaker
overloaded
and tripped
as if the power box
blew a fuse
inside my mind

it's so hard to concentrate on what people are saying to me.
It's so hard to pay attention.
so hard.
it's a struggle.
i have to think about doing it, to do it.
perhaps that's ok.
gives me something else to think about.
sigh.

i don't have the energy to update my two live journals right now.
this is my haven.
where no one reads.
at least, not that I know of.
which makes it safe.
which makes it home.

i still haven't cried. Every time I get close I choke them back in.
I want so bad to hate him.
I want so bad to hate her.
I want so bad to disappear.
I want so bad to stop thinking about this.

I know she loves me, but I know she's getting tired of reading this bullshit.
I know they care, but I know they're getting tired of me dwelling.

I feel torn apart.
Ripped apart.

Inside.
By me.
As if I've done this to myself. Because I allowed myself to let go and fall.
hard.
Everything reminds me of him.
Everything.

And they're off having fun.
I'm sitting here... remembering
dwelling.
is it over yet.

anger
aggression
pain

I want to hurt you
only has much as i'm hurting now

this fake smile
is beginning to wear thin

i am crazy enough
i'm not determined enough
i'll get you in other ways
less physical
you fucked with the wrong bitch.
you hurt the wrong bitch.

by this blood i love you
by this blood you'll hurt
by this blood i love you
by this blood you'll hurt
by this blood i love you
by this blood you'll hurt

the pain inflicted on me
by you, and this knife
are transferred unto you.

is like reading some warped soap opera on television
which is probably why i read.

it's wierd

you asked my why I love you.
it's your smile. Your laugh. The way I feel around you.
It's this feeling that envelopes me.
that touches me inside, whenever I think of you.
your scent.
it's the way you pace while you smoke.
the way you brush off how you HAVE to be perfect
at everything, in such a savvy manner
the way you look aimlessly out the window when you're deep in random thoughts
and don't realize I'm watching you
the control you radiate
the laid back way you sit in a room full of people
demanding respect without a word
the way you ALWAYS have to put your twenty two cents in
and out do everyone else with stories
The way you command a conversation to go a certain way
how you hate people, but crave presence
the way you are capable of just... picking up and disappearing
but for some reason, don't.
the way you touch me, caressing my skin with your hands
the way you kiss me
the dreamy smile on your face when you sleep
and the childish aura when you first wake up
the goofy grin you get on your face
when you do something silly
the look of mock shock and horror when you fart
and realize it was heard, and smelt across the room
the way you remember the unimportant details
and completely disregard important what-nots
the way you quiz and drill me for the name of a band/artist when a song comes on the radio
the devious grin you get right before you go to tickle me
in the theatre
the resistence you put up when I offer to pay
even if it's what I want to do
because I want to make you happy
The lack of concern you have for things that really don't effect you
the way when you really don't like someone, your face doesn't hide it.
the way your flesh feels under my hands
and the feel of your stubble when we kiss.
The way you look at me, sometimes. When I'm looking at you.
A brief moment, that for some reason, warms over me
The way you beg me not to stop.
It's the time we spend together, and how I never want it to end.
Never want it to stop.
Never want it to go.
It's how you want me to be me.
Not some carbon copy.
And how I can be me.. around you
and you like that me.
I don't have to break my personality into pieces with you
only showing this part or that
It's how I normally find myself without something to say
because I'm only used to trivial impersonal conversation
and I want deeper conversation with you.
not gossipy, bullshit.
It's how I enjoy doing things for you.
I enjoy it Jason.
It brings me pleasure, and happiness.
To think that I can make you smile
And make you happy
and make you laugh
it's the safe feeling I have, when I'm in your arms.
and I think of home.
Of Europe. Of Italy.
Of the lazy days on the terrace...
with The Med at my finger tips
and the smell of fresh bread baking
and the feeling of laying in the fields below The Castle
with the warm sun disappearing in the water
and the cool night air blanketing me
protecting me from pain
you remind me of this
and the memory
makes me happy
Every time I'm around you...
I feel "warm fuzzies"
that are internal...
and external
having no real origin
other than from what you rouse
in me.
I could go on
but I'm sure you get the point Jason.
I love you. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Unconditional.
Unchanging.
Untainted.
I expect nothing of you.
I demand nothing of you.
Except this: let me love you.

let's start at the top.
thoughts are all jumbled.

what the hell?

i don't get it.
begin: letter writing now.

how sweet the sensation of your hands on my body is

no?
I will.

I want to curl up and sleep right now.
where I was.
six hours ago.
six long, lifetime spanning hours ago.

you have me caught in between reality and fantasy
pinned in a corner of life and death
tied to a bed of pleasure and pain

and I don't want it to stop.

ever.

run away with me.
let's go.
not even pack bags.
leave everything like it is.
Just get in.. and drive.
right now.
right now.
don't look back.
pull off that rearview mirror
don't turn your head
just drive
and drive
and drive
until nothing but everything lays before us.

that feeling is overwhelming my senses.
to run away with you.
to let go of everything, and exist in a life of moments

she said
Fantasies are acheivable,
if you can deal with the reality
in between.

I can handle the reality.
I can taste the fantasy
I want more.
The reality, the fantasy, the illusion, alluding to the tangible
I want it all.
With you.

So is this one her boyfriend?

I don't know.

Yes you do. she's your daughter.

I don't know. I don't even think she knows.

mother informed me this morning of a conversation between her and my father.
they both like him. they both approve of him.... ironically enough

I just ran him the cigarettes. He left them up here.. then got a flat tire on his bike...classic eh?
He left his front door open for me.
I knocked regardless.. then pushed it open and called his name.

I started to walk in... called his name again. He came.
I gave them to him.
he said I didn't have to bring them.

Body language is so beautiful. He kept moving as if he wanted me to come in and kick back with him.
I smiled. I'd love to.
I have a responsibility though.
I need to get back to work.

and so I left... with a smile on both our faces.
Such an interesting game we play.

A third party informed me of said person's high affections for me.
The knowledge there of.. makes things a little more...
complete.

now, to hear them from said person
will complete it .. completely

I'm thinking.
scary isn't it.
not plotting. not planning.
not ploying

just considering.
and reflecting.
simple thinking.

He makes me proud to be a woman. He makes me WANT to talk. Want to hold a conversation... but when we get down to the truth of it all.. I'm not a conversationalist. I struggle to hold conversations with people... most of what they want to talk about.. I'm not interested in.
I don't care to talk about.
And feining care is difficult for me to do.
In situations as such displayed
with the whining homosexual.

He doesn't grasp the fact
I typically don't hang out with "friends"
I see them, when I see them.

Chillin here.
Relaxin there.
Ocassionally.. in a blue moon instance... going out.
Partying... eh... maybe.. but not preferred
bars/clubs/pool/darts/etc? eh.... mood dependant very sporadic
it just isn't my gig.
Ya know?
I know you know.
Which is one thing I adore about you.
You -seem- cool with that.
In fact... you live that.
There are so many other reasons.

It's trippin me out though
we still haven't engaged in a form of copulation
this is the longest I've known someone, been interested, hung out, gotten drunk on several ocassions... slept next to... beside... inside... and not had intercourse. Not had any form of orgasm with. Because things haven't progressed that far.
This is seriously trippin me out.
Don't misunderstand though... I love it. I'm high off it. I'm submerged in it.
It's wonderful.
A non-sexually based attraction
A non-sexually based indulgence-ation
A non-sexually based communication

I don't want it to stop.
Let's keep going.
Don't pull over for gas
we have a full tank
let the scenery pass us by
as we speed down the interstate of life.

I love you,
love me.

I don't know what it is
that let's me love you
the way I do.

whatever it is
i don't want it to stop
i don't want it to end.

apologize for him talking to you
it wasn't his place
it wasn't his right
and now i feel....
as if the moments
are now forced
instead of wanted


the white flag is being hoisted up

a song is playing over and over again in my head
only one stanza of it
the chorus

repeating, over and over again
and over and over again

I didn't want to kiss you tonight, when I saw you
though the thought crossed my mind as merely a reflection that I didn't feel it

this is what I need
I have more important things on my mind
like right now

a few hours of sleep

mother brought him up this morning. The "love of my life"
my heart
my soul

Robert Paden Gunter

I miss him beyond belief. I miss him beyond understanding. But I let go of him a long, long time ago.
If you love something, let it go, if it comes back.. it's yours. if it doesn't... it never really was yours to begin with.
I guess he wasn't mine to begin with. Despite everything he said. Despite everything we did. Despite all our plans. I wonder if he ever thinks of me. I wonder if he ever misses me. I wonder if he ever loves me.
I wonder... if he ever wonders.

my mother's still more tore up about him leaving, than I am. Than I was. She keeps saying I'm too old for my age. I'm too wise for my age. She would have understood if I'd of driven away and not come back. She would have understood. Well... I didn't know that at the time. And... I wasn't going to force him to be with me, if he didn't want it. It's better for me, if he's sitting there now with her thinking "...if only I had made the choice to be with her, instead of her" rather than thinking "why'd I choose her?"

so mom is throwing me hypotheticals about Jason.
I dunno.
I'm just all about.. giving him the time and space he seems to need to decide what the fuck is going on between us.

I love him, yes. I want to be with him, yes.
but I'm all too used to 1) not getting what I want and 2) losing in love

kinda horrible to think and say, huh?
but it's true.
so familiar with picking up the pieces I could do it blindfolded
oh well...

I love you.
love,
Me

save me from the world.
wrap me up in your arms.
protect me with your mind.
save me from the pain.
the pain that radiates from some unseen, inside
from some non-physical location
that eats, and gnaws, and tears through me
your arms are so safe,
your body, so warm.
your lips so good.
your smell, so.. intoxicating
you're like rays of sunlight, peeking through the clouds
of a cat 5 hurricane

the pain.
the stubborn focus I have on it.
Not the cure.
Not the remedy
far beyond.

there are no victims here

You're right.
there aren't.

as a matter of fact... I'm not a victim.
I feel like my heart was taken out and beaten
then dragged through the dirt
by a stampeed of angry trestles
I was not neglected.
I was not disregarded.
I was not erased.

But hell if it doesn't feel that way.

oh well.
the pleasure of working in a place like this
and being as falsely loved as I am here
is always being invited to do stuff.
maybe it's time I start taking them up on offers.
maybe, it's time... to stop putting people off
and saying "ok... that sounds fun"
and letting go.
like I did last night.
on the dance floor...
when no one else was on it.
fucking myself in the mirror
with my eyes.
forcing myself to forget the pain
forcing myself to forget the anger

and it felt good to forget it.
it felt good to pretend nothing else existed
but me
the mirror
and the music

it felt so damned good.
to forget it all.

I had a great afternoon.
A great night.
And a wonderful morning.

what more could a girl ask for?

there was this guy
who was friends with my (ex)online beau
we talked.. a lot
and had phone sex... often enough
even had a plane ticket and hotel room to come up and visit him
I'd give him "wake up" calls for work
and sing to his answering machine... or taunt him with playful insults and whatnot
and he'd do the same to me
and I love(d) him.
I still do. To an extent
I miss the times we had. and shared

there was this time... we'd been on the phone six hours.
My (ex)beau called in. less than thirty seconds of conversation later, I clicked back over and spent another two hours with said friend on the phone
We ended the fling because we both knew it was wrong. We both cared about my (ex)beau. I ended that too.
Decided then and there online things weren't for me.

But I still care about this guy.
more than I should.

And I do love the guy... I spend the majority of my free (and not so free) time with
and he is what I asked for... when I was young and making my wish

and every person I love(d) will always hold a piece of my heart
but he ... he holds a special piece.
we talked about it once... not too long ago.. about what happened.
We talked about it online ( not daring to talk verbally... ) and I resent -why- we ended it. i know at the time it was right. i know in the long run.. it's the best thing


the hardest thing though
is not ending a relationship... on a bad note
cause then you're left wondering
and I'd much rather resent the person
or mask my love with hate for them
than miss them
and still love them
and have nothing but good memories