Emo!!!
It has been brought to my attention by a pair of lovely ladies that when I don't write my emo stuff here for you, you miss it. So here it is. :-P Thanks for reading it, being so concerned with me, and so steadfast.
I wanted to share the thoughts I had last night as I lay in bed. Before I can do that though, I have to give a little background on the way I've been feeling....for the last couple of months at least.
Somewhere between now and June 11th (thats the day I told Bryan I wanted him back), some part of me turned off. Its hard to put into words, so bear with me. But basically I've always been a very empathic person, who connects very strongly with others. I mean, from the time I was little. I can remember going into the living room and annoying the crap out of my parents because I wanted their attention, wanted them to talk to me, hug me, and connect with me. And you all know how strongly I feel about my siblings as well. Anyway, some time after telling Bryan what I told him, I realized that there were some things he was not doing, that made going back to him unacceptable...that is to say I felt like his recovery had slipped. I won't get into the details of it, b/c thats his business to air or not. The point is, I pulled back from him when I noticed this things. And as for Apollo, I had all kinds of wicked resentment built up for and around him, and somewhere over time, the anger and resentment faded to an absence of feeling. Just as it did concerning Bryan. Suddenly I was far far less concerned with how they felt, and how what I did or did not do made them feel. I recognized that they alone were responsible for their emotional well-being, and that I would not have it laid at my feet any longer. That they alone were responsible for their choices and actions, and that I would not allow them to be laid on me, burdening me with their weight. I became concerned only with reconnecting with friends, doing things I'd been meaning to do, focusing on school, and healing. I decided they could both go fuck themselves for all I cared. It sounds harsh I know, but it got me through and into a healthier headspace. Suddenly I was getting enough sleep, I wasn't staying sick, and to thus far have had homeworks completed well before the due date. My chest even stopped hurting, and I was able to have as much caffeine as I wanted again without worrying about panic attacks or insomnia.
So for the most part, and especially at the start, it was great. And I still feel some of the affects lingering. Its much easier for me to get those two out of my head and get on with the things in my life that need done, than it ever was before. But I think at some point, it went a little far. I could think of either of them, and feel very little to nothing at all. I got used to be lonely, used to having a bed and shower all to myself. Used to feeling very little but concern for myself and excitement for the things I was doing with my time. It got so deep in me, that I began to worry I had lost the ability to love. No, that sounds too drastic. But like I had lost the ability to love like I used to. God knows its been harder to love anyone since Eddie, and it has been an effort to tear down walls, let someone in, and trust them every since. And after Eddie, I got Craig, who lied to me more than I thought possible, and slept around on me. And then I got Bryan who lied to me even more than Craig (shocker, I know), and had what I call "technology relationships" behind my back. Then Cyrus, who came on like a tidal wave, or an avalanche...strong and completely unstoppable...only to have him leave for Argonne no sooner than he had torn my little walls down. My trust was broken, and some little part of me has been convinced that there is no point in trying to connect b/c men are fucking incapable of true connection. But last night as I lay in bed, I felt love. Strong and pure in its feeling. I could think of Bryan's smile, his crow's feet, his quirky since of humor and his laugh...no, cackle...and feel warm inside. I could think of Cyrus's dimples, his odd mannerisms that I used to think of as awkward, but now think of as endearing, his hair, those wonderful damn golden curls, and feel warm. And as far as they go, I know it means nothing, or at least little. But to me, it was good. I was able to lay there and remember things to love, things that maybe aren't worth all the shit men put us through, but that makes those things easier to bear...Those things that make us laugh, make us smile, make us feel warm. So much has been done to me to make me feel cold and angry and bitter, and just fucking miserable. It was a nice feeling that found me last night.
My mother once told me she loved having four children, I never knew what she meant I think, until this week.
I think its part of the role, part of the dynamic of men and women together. Women inevitably have to teach men how to communicate, and how to open up and be honest about their feelings, to share them and embrace them, so that they don't live in their "cave," alone in misery. Maybe thats why the "good ones are always taken or gay." Men that are taken have already been taught (or are in the process and its going well) about opening up and talking honestly, where as gay men are half women and come into it early on their own. I look back, and these names I list...Eddie, Craig, Bryan, Cyrus. I know, I've seen for myself, and heard from Lila, Eddie's current g/f, how much what he did to me damaged him. For years he harbored it, hated himself for it, regretted it. When I saw him, I had the opportunity to tell him that I thought I had been the worst thing to ever happen to him. He informed me, with a deep sadness in his eyes, that no, the worst thing to ever happen to him was him. And I know he was referring to what he did to Laura, and to me. Every guy I have dated, everyone that has betrayed me, has had so much to learn. The only one I don't feel that was the case with was Craig...he was just fucking crazy and selfish. I think any man who can look at his own son and say "I don't want him" is just beyond hope.
Don't get me wrong gentlemen, I don't think its a one sided deal. I do think that women live longer because we go to the well and talk instead of the cave and internalize. But I believe men teach women something just as vital. I may not have as firm a grasp on it now as I could or maybe will, but I have an idea. When I look back at my relationships, and try to think of what positive, useful thing did these men teach me, I see something consistent. As much as I have hated everyone of them for teaching me not to trust, thats not all they taught. I think men teach women how to survive the bad things that happen to them. How to remember the past without reliving it. How to take the bad things that have happened to us, and make those bad things part of us, and something we learn from, and not to let those bad things, those painful memories make us part of them. Sometimes, as women, I think our memories can own us, and our men teach us how to break that hold, and own them instead...and by doing so, get a little bit of ourselves back.
Of course, I could be completely full of shit, and younger than I give myself credit for. But these are my ideas, and how I see things right now. As I know men and women read this dribble, please feel free to give your opinion.
Okies, I think this is long enough. I started it just meaning to say that I felt good last night, and was able to emotionally remember happy things about my past. If you suffered though all of this, thanks again. :)
Love,
Beth
P.S. Special thanks to Cyrus for getting me the new Darren Hayes album. Its...different, but I love it. I would recommend you all listen to it a few times before making up your minds about it. Okay, I'm really going now! Love ya, bye!