I’m messing up again, no not in the heroin-arms-call-me-baby kinda way, but in another if not more significant way. I’m messing up with the love of my life.
Mostly, I feel out of it, oblivious to his pain, knee deep in my own night sweats, my own anxieties. I know he needs me more than I need him right now. But I keep pulling him into my rib cage, he holds onto th bone bars and cries out, again, I feel nothing. Too medicated to realize I’m the one killing my only hope.
I need to get a job, but nigling doubts hold me back. I’m scared I’ll fail. He’s riding his hopes on this. He needs me to make the moolah because we’re stuck, he’s being sued, we might lose ththe car, wait wait I can’t crack, I need that job, I’m too weak, I’m sick, wait no I’m screaming inside screaming at the top of my lungs, my bones are cracking, I’m in doubt, were gonnna lose the car, were going to die without my job. We’re not going to make it this time.
I’ve built a wall around my mind, so not a single person may find me. I can’t read him. He can’t read me. We need to break the walls, bring out the trumpets, marry his kingdoms ruler to my queen, build trust. It’s so simple ain’t it? Ain’t it?
I can’t hold the details together, I can’t sew them into my seams. You said what? When was that? I forget. I don’t know. I’m going to hide now.
There must be a way to return to normality. To a time when he kisses me, touches me again, instead of me forcing my desperate lips onto his reluctant, miserable ones. When we can look with laughing eyes at each other, instead of tearful ones.
how do I go back? Or is it forward?
i though it was me, still do in those harsh moments between crying and not, midnight and tomorrow. I feel hollow. I never knew recovery would be just as hollow as addiction/
but it is – pleasantly hollow.
there is nothing to do now but starve. i feel gross and fat. my medicine leaves me lethargic and fat. this house where i eat leaves me unsatisfied and fat. my boyfriend wont touch me thus leaving me sexless and fat. fat. fat. fat.
where there is a will there is a way. He hurts me more everyday – until reding takes precedent over talking and familiarity takes the place of love.
is there love anymore? theres certainly no passion. no lust. nothing sacredly primal. but is there still a sacredness left? When the bodies of two lie facing each other? holding on tight for the sheer force of the world might rip them apart. Have the angels come unstuck from heaven?
I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack
I like it, I’m not gonna crack
I miss you, I’m not gonna crack
I love you, I’m not gonna crack
I killed you, I’m not gonna crack
we shall never know.
I have pushed through bodies to get to you, pushed through late nights crying over the wrong people, through meaningless, thoughtless sex, and through hopes that have always led to despair. I was mechanical. I was mostly drunk. I was dead.
I though it was normal to cry every night, to let things happen to your body – unwanted touches, and painful caresses ending in loss of myself, moment by moment, piece by piece. It does not get better than this, I told myself endlessly. I made this bed. I deserve this bedding.
mom’s the only one who cares about me, and sometimes she doesn’t understand, know or feel my pain, my loss of control, my self disdain
You showed up at the brutal parting, my forced removal from The All Knowing One, a painful distancing. I cut my arms so deep while I was on the phone with him after he said – it’s done, don’t contact me anymore, you’re poison. I cut them so hard, so emotionally. Blood dripped down my arms, blood pooled on the carpet, my mother screamed and screamed until I couldn’t hear her anymore. The world blurred as my fragile network of lies and truths, or lies that became truths, burned in my heart. Dad got the gauze. My younger brother fell silent. He’s been silent a long time now.
And in the wake of the waves of pain, deep from the ashes of my life, as I tried and struggled with purpose and loneliness. I found you. I fucking found you online. I /saw/ you. I knew.
I don’t want to say you fixed me, because I had a hand in that too. I don’t want to say you destroyed me, because I loved heroin just as much. We have had our share of tough times, just like a plethora of good. I didn’t want to believe we couldn’t be together without drugs, so I mostly didn’t… and we got sober, we got closer, we got healed and we now have each other to thank for it, to save ourselves from the misery of returning to the families we wronged, our lives we ruined, and the pain of our emotions returning to us.
I love your humor, I love your scent, I love the way you are so honest with me, never leading me on or leading me astray. You love me for me, for who I am not who I want to be or worse, who I think I am. You don’t care if my hair is knotted, I just woke up or I am throwing a tantrum because I’m sleepy and can’t find my phone and think I’m going crazy because I checked there, no, I /checked over there/ do. not. Oh ok it was over there? Thanks.
We are not the same, I learned that from you. We don’t have to be the exact same person, that’s ok. We don’t have to be in the same room, which is code for: I feel secure you won’t leave me. I can sleep without you immediately dropping everything and going to sleep too. I had to learn that also. You’ve been a great teacher. You’ve been a better best friend.
I can honestly say I /know/ you, which is almost as good as loving you. I understand, so do you. So when there’s a day we don’t kiss or sit next each other all day or I go for a walk without you, I don’t feel any less loved, any less special, in love or cared about. It’s quite the gift you gave me.
You didn’t steal my heart, you mended it and let me hang on to it for a while. The fact that you have it now? It’s because I decided you were worthy. It was mine to give. It’s mine to take back if I so choose.
Nevertheless, it’s yours now, and I love you so much.
Thank you, with all the love of my being,
To you, my Beautiful One
Knock me out every time they touch me
I wanna feel a kiss just crush me
And break me down
I haven’t written about Kevin yet. Steve and I broke up in December and it was really really tough. I cut my arms terribly and now have long, pink, puffy scars. It was the literal worst. I thought I was going to die so many times. I fantasized about it constantly. Then something incredible happened. My life was saved. I met Kevin online – I noticed him immediately on the site and messaged him. It was like magic – we connected instantly. Now we have been dating (in person) for about 2 months.
I’m scared of how hard I fell for him. I constantly question my feelings – are they real? is this really happening? I don’t know anymore. He cares about me like no one else – I don’t think I have ever been cared for so much. Sometimes I still think about Steve but it’s becoming harder and harder to remember him. It’s like Kevin is erasing that whole disaster. I remember bits and pieces. Foreheads touching, toads, flashes of memories that make me smile sadly.
I feel kindof sad today. I haven’t really been seeing things but I have been doing a lot of heroin. I don’t think I’m an addict yet though. I love it so much and I love that Kevin and I can get high together. It’s the absolute best to be able to be totally honest with someone. I’ve never had that in my whole life. really. I lie to everyone constantly. Even when I don’t have to, I lie. I don’t even feel bad about it.
I also haven’t been eating or sleeping. The eating isn’t really an issue though. I can live without eating much. I actually hate eating. It’s a waste of time, money and calories. I like sleeping though and not being able to sleep is really fucking me up. I stay awake in limbo for hours. Shock waves in my chest keep me from nodding off. The heroin helps immensely though. It’s the perfect drug. I don’t feel like I have an eating disorder but sometimes I really think I do. The amount of thinspo on my dash is proof enough.
Back to Kevin. I can honestly say I love him. Which is weird because I never thought I would be able to love anyone but Steve. Kevin literally swept me off my feet. He became everything so soon. I don’t quite trust it yet – but I want to oh I want to. We also have the best sex. Which helps alot. We haven’t really been doing anything because of all the dope and work and such but when we do it’s amazing.
I feel like I’m chasing something – like an idea or a ghost. I feel crazy a lot. I haven’t felt myself all week. I feel broken and bent and disordered. I feel like this is the consequence of some brain chemicals gone haywire. I feel especially moody. I feel like I should be writing poetry all day but I have homework to do that I have been putting off.
“I stared taking care of myself today, but then I stopped ’cause I don’t care”
I had two dates yesterday, awkwardly. I hung out with this guy named mario for a while in the afternoon and with daniiel at night. Mario is tall – he’s like 6’4 – which is totally ridiculous… He was a gentlemen though – too bad I go for people who don’t treat me well. Daniiel tells me that you have to be an asshole to get a girl, and he’s doing a good job of it. He tells me not to fall for him or overthink things but whatever – sometimes you have to take risks in order to fly. But right now, i have to stay on the ground. Mom was pissed at me because i lied to her about where i was going and for asking to sleep over rachael’s house (even though I’d really be going over to Daniiel’s house/apartment). But WHATEVER. she didn’t need to freak out so hard. Jesus.
So i’m having health issues. My thyroid is hyper functioning and i don’t know what that means or what to do about it. I have to see an endocrinologist, i guess. Mom think’s it’s serious… I was also vitamin D deficit and my blood sugar was high. I am literally a mess – emotionally and physically.
I wish i was dreaming and that one day i’ll wake up to something better. Maybe that’s what death is – waking up to something better (or worse, i guess). Sometimes I don’t feel real. I am bored and numb, walking though my 21 year old life like a teenager. Daniiel and I has sex again – this time in his car. I tried my best to be good but I don’t know – some things i just feel embarrassed about and i’m not good at….bleh. I want him to like me so much – maybe just maybe this will work out… who the fuck knows.
Sometimes i feel as if my world is on the brink of collapse. I was over evan, my super cop “friend”‘s, house yesterday. We finished the movie Thor – a movie we had previously gotten too distracted to watch. He was supposed to make dinner for me, but i ended up making pasta and he heated up meatballs from the fridge in his weird-ass microwave… He’s a good guy but i have so many reservations. I give in and give in. i give my body but not too much more. I feel like he will never be really mine and at the same time, i’m not sure if i want him to be. [you could give me anything but love]. i have my boyfriend who is far from perfect but he tries in his own ways and i love him for it, Nothing can compare to the feeling i get when i’m with him – er the feeling i used to get with him from old memories of before. I feel broken and loathesome. why am i such a monster? why do i have to see evan and make a mess of a relationship that might work? I feel embarrassed and insecure. my mom thinks i’m a whore – but i’m not. i’m just really messed up right now. so what do i do? smoke another cigarette, drink… perhaps take a stroll down the drug aisle in CVS so i can pop cough medicine and forget myself for a time?
Being sober is killing me. i don’t want to be just like everyone else – drugs make me feel superhuman for a while that is, but sometimes that’s enough. I’m so frustrated with the fact that i am trapped at home. i’m not allowed to live at college anymore because i’m too crazy. Last semester i flew from my boyfriend’s house to home to school. It was always an escape for me – a private sanctuary to cut and do drugs and drink. it was my release and it made me feel good. worse than missing drugs – i miss the cutting. the beautiful scarmaking that decorates my body. I look at all my scars and long to add to the collection but i know that if my parents find out ill be fucked. and they have been on the warpath of observance. I can wait till winter – when my body is covered and i will have the artistic licence to my body returned.
Like most things, I flip-flop between “extrovert” and “introvert.” I change in the night, in a single moment sometimes when I’m not paying attention – because I can never pin down exactly when the change occurred. It seemed like yesterday or maybe last week that everyone was blowing up my phone and I was moving like a mad butterfly from one thing to the next – always loud and happy – the center of attention. Today I find myself slightly nauseous at the thought of having to make small talk or worse yet – jokes. I think I have problems with relationships. I go all out to be people’s friend and if they don’t respond with the same fervor immediately – I end up hating them and trying to justify it with one of their very human flaws that I probably overlook in the few who have my utter loyalty. Also, when I feel like things are going too quick with a group of people – I run and get as much distance as possible. I find myself making plans because of my inability to say no – and then last minute lying that something came up. A bunch of friends are going drinking on Saturday and they invited me WHICH FREAKED ME OUT INSIDE. I am so paranoid. If anything happened – I would most likely lose the only person I care for, Steve. I’m actually babysitting that night which is awesome because now I don’t need to lie and I won’t be on campus, tempted. I’ve set fro myself a daily routine that I CANNOT DEVIATE from. If I do, bad things happen. I go to bed between 9 and 10, I wake up between 7 and 8. I buy a Mtn Dew and Grape water every Monday and Thursday morning. I do homework insanely early and always leave room to edit papers. I have straight As – but seriously, the pressure of maintaining that is driving me nuts. Luckily I live close, and I can go on “mini” vacations home every weekend – which is good because I’m taking a class over winter break (so I don’t really get a vacation anyway.)
There’s a man assigned to me,
And he checks on my stability,
We discuss you every week,
Then I rinse and rinse, repeat.
And he charges by the tear,
Til I weep no more strictly out of fear,
That I can’t afford your love,
And the moon just burns above.