Pieces
My life seems so disjointed, and it's getting harder and harder to put the pieces of my life and of my heart back together each time things fall apart.
Good Enough
In school, our teachers taught us about adjectives,their meanings, and how to use them. We learned that adjectives describe things, and we learned that some adjectives describe varrying degrees of something.
Good. Better. Best.
I remember that being one of the first heirarchies of adjectives that we learned, but then, later, we learned how other adjectives factored into that heirarchy.
Great. Excellent. Superb. Outstanding. Marvelous. Sterling. Satisfactory. Terrific. Fantastic. Fabulous. Awesome. Brilliant. Wonderful. Amazing.
If you look up "good" in a thesaurus, those are words that you'll find, but everyone knows that "good" doesn't imply all that. Great is better than just good. Terrific is better than just good. Fantastic, fabulous, awesome, brilliant, wonderful, and (espcially) amazing are all better than just good.
So, I find it to be quite a paradox when so many people tell you you're all those things that are better than just good, but you're still just not good...enough.
Much Needed Release
On sunday, I was hoping that I would get a chance to vent to Monica about everything that had been going through my mind. She had been in Miami all weekend, and when she called me when she finally got home, I drove over to her and shawn's place looking forward to seeing her again. I wanted some advice, but on what, I didn't know. Maybe I didn't really want advice. Maybe I just wanted some comfort. I wanted to get things off my chest, if nothing else.
Once I got there, however, distraction after distraction came along. When I was finally able to start venting about my confusion and heartache, not long after I started, Brandon called, upset about his situation with his boyfriend, Michael. I sat there, listening to him vent about his problems, trying hard not to think about my own. I was already stressed before Brandon called, and when he called to vent, to get things off of his chest, I felt as if he was coming to me for advice that I just couldn't give. I tried to think of things to say, but I couldn't. I know Brandon didn't mean to make me feel as if he was pushing his problems onto me, but that's how it made me feel. The phone call was quickly stressing me out, and I was relieved when Brandon finally ended our conversation.
I tried to regain my composure and push Brandon's problems aside in order to refocus on expressing my own. Monica and I talked a bit more, but not for very long. It was getting late, and we both had things to do in the morning. I left the house that evening feeling stressed and confused and lost and alone. I found music on my iPod that matched my mood, and, as I listened to the music and thought about all the things that were making me upset, I eventually started crying. I wasn't just crying though. I was bawling. I pushed my thoughts harder and deeper in order to extend my release, to keep the tears flowing. It hurt, but it felt good at the same time. I felt human again.
Ever since the demise of my relationship with Mark, whenever that might actually have been, I've become harder and colder. It's harder for me to express myself, and it's harder for me to cry. The tears just don't always come when I feel that they should. So, I was thankful that I was finally able to really cry on my way home from Monica's that evening.
I thought about everything. About not being good enough for anyone. About feeling lost. About all the stressors of school. About Mark, and how he hates me, while I continue to love him. About Nathan, and how I made him happy, but I was just like a friend. About Brandon, and how I had opened up to him even though I thought I shouldn't and thought I couldn't, and how he still betrayed me in the end. About Alex, and how I was so sure that we could be great together, but that wasn't good enough to conquer his fears. About Danny, and how he had made me feel, and how I really wanted to just get to know him, how I had been so hopeful, how it had seemed like such a sure thing, how everyone saw just how undeniable our connection was and still is. About my puppy, Jaxon, and how I had to give him away and how I never said goodbye, and how I felt like a horrible pet owner for never giving him enough time or care, and how I pushed that aside and never really dealt with it.
By the time I got home, I had dried my eyes for the most part. As I walked up the stairs to my third-floor apartment, I felt cleansed. Cleansed and tired. My bed was calling my name, and before long, I was answering it's call. And it felt good.
Subconscious
All day Tuesday, I had this really strange feeling. On the surface, I just felt blank, but inside, it was as if I could feel something moving. It was as if my subconscious was trying to sift and sort through all my problems without me. I didn't want to think about anything, but even if I had wanted to, I couldn't. I tried a few times, but to no avail. Whenever I tried to consciously sort through things, my mind was flooded with extraneous thoughts, and I couldn't get to the bottom of anything. Since everytime I tried to think things would only get more muddled than they had been before, I decided to just let my subconscious do whatever it was that it was doing.
I can't think of any other instance where I felt a similar feeling. I felt as if I was just floating along all Tuesday, like I was on autopilot to a destination I hadn't been made aware of.
What I Thought I Wanted
Despite my emotional release a few days prior, on Wednesday I still felt constricted and bottled up. I figured that perhaps some sexual release would be just the thing to further my cleansing...or something like that. Who knows what my brain was thinking? I had been horny lately, but without anyone close to me, up to that point I had been forced to take care of any sexual urges myself. I found that my dates with Handrew were becoming more and more predictable while also becoming less and less satisfying. I thought what I wanted was a little sexual excitement in my life. I thought what I wanted was a boy.
On Wednesday I got what I thought I wanted. Turns out, it wasn't what I really wanted. Big surprise, right? Well, it was to me...sorta...
See, before my sexual escapade that evening, while me and the boy were just hanging out, I thought to myself, "Ya know, this guy is pretty cool. I mean, he's nice and he's attractive enough. Maybe I could start to like him as more than a friend. Maybe this could really go somewhere. Maybe I could grow to really care for him."
So, when I woke up the next morning and realized that I felt awkward, I was a little surprised. I didn't look at him very much. I tried to pretend I wasn't there...or that he wasn't there...or that it wasn't really happening...or that the previous night hadn't really happened. Then, I realized the previous night, I had been doing the same thing somewhat.
While he and I had been fooling around and otherwise doing what two gay boys typically will do in bed together, I had been pushing my thoughts and emotions out of the experience altogether. I looked back on the exploit, and I realized that I didn't really feel as if I had been an active participant in the escapades of the night before. I felt only like a spectator that had been living vicariously through someone else's fantasies. Not only did I feel as if I hadn't actively done the any of the things I had in fact done with the boy, but more so, I felt as if I had just allowed my base, carnal, lascivious desires to take over my body completely, while the rest of me, my logical, methodical, humane side merely went to sleep. Perhaps thats why, when it was all over, it was so easy for me to go to sleep as if it hadn't happened in the first place.
How Much I Miss You
That night, as I slept, my subconscious mind sent a little reminder to the conscious side of thougth. I was reminded of just how much I miss Danny, reminded of the way he made me feel, of the excitement I had felt when he and I had seemed like such a sure thing. The dream was extremely vivid and concise. It was as if the entire situation had been shrunken down and exaggerated into what seemed like only a 5 minute span of time. I woke up, and suddenly, I remembered that he was gone, because I had remembered what it had been like when he was around. I had pushed those thoughts out of my mind up to that point. I had thought of him, but only in passing, following the trend of not allowing myself to focus on anything that would cause me pain or strife.
I hadn't tried to forget him. I had only laid all thoughts of him to the side. I realized on wednesday that all the emotion the situation had caused was still there, and it frightened me that I had been so successful in not thinking about it.
That had been the thing that had always irked me most about Mark. He would lay all his problems to the saide, expecting them to just go away, but I know better than that. How did I let myself just put things off? I had never thought I was even capable of such a thing. I had wondered how Mark was able to do it, and I guess, now I know.
You push things aside, because you really can't deal with them. You don't have the strength or courage to do so. I hope sometime soon I'm able to deal with these feelings. I guess not only am I waiting for some courage to appear, but I'm also waiting for some guidance...for a more definitive and logical answer from Danny...one that actually makes sense this time.
So, I guess that's my week...in pieces...
signed = haplesstext
Good Enough
In school, our teachers taught us about adjectives,their meanings, and how to use them. We learned that adjectives describe things, and we learned that some adjectives describe varrying degrees of something.
Good. Better. Best.
I remember that being one of the first heirarchies of adjectives that we learned, but then, later, we learned how other adjectives factored into that heirarchy.
Great. Excellent. Superb. Outstanding. Marvelous. Sterling. Satisfactory. Terrific. Fantastic. Fabulous. Awesome. Brilliant. Wonderful. Amazing.
If you look up "good" in a thesaurus, those are words that you'll find, but everyone knows that "good" doesn't imply all that. Great is better than just good. Terrific is better than just good. Fantastic, fabulous, awesome, brilliant, wonderful, and (espcially) amazing are all better than just good.
So, I find it to be quite a paradox when so many people tell you you're all those things that are better than just good, but you're still just not good...enough.
Much Needed Release
On sunday, I was hoping that I would get a chance to vent to Monica about everything that had been going through my mind. She had been in Miami all weekend, and when she called me when she finally got home, I drove over to her and shawn's place looking forward to seeing her again. I wanted some advice, but on what, I didn't know. Maybe I didn't really want advice. Maybe I just wanted some comfort. I wanted to get things off my chest, if nothing else.
Once I got there, however, distraction after distraction came along. When I was finally able to start venting about my confusion and heartache, not long after I started, Brandon called, upset about his situation with his boyfriend, Michael. I sat there, listening to him vent about his problems, trying hard not to think about my own. I was already stressed before Brandon called, and when he called to vent, to get things off of his chest, I felt as if he was coming to me for advice that I just couldn't give. I tried to think of things to say, but I couldn't. I know Brandon didn't mean to make me feel as if he was pushing his problems onto me, but that's how it made me feel. The phone call was quickly stressing me out, and I was relieved when Brandon finally ended our conversation.
I tried to regain my composure and push Brandon's problems aside in order to refocus on expressing my own. Monica and I talked a bit more, but not for very long. It was getting late, and we both had things to do in the morning. I left the house that evening feeling stressed and confused and lost and alone. I found music on my iPod that matched my mood, and, as I listened to the music and thought about all the things that were making me upset, I eventually started crying. I wasn't just crying though. I was bawling. I pushed my thoughts harder and deeper in order to extend my release, to keep the tears flowing. It hurt, but it felt good at the same time. I felt human again.
Ever since the demise of my relationship with Mark, whenever that might actually have been, I've become harder and colder. It's harder for me to express myself, and it's harder for me to cry. The tears just don't always come when I feel that they should. So, I was thankful that I was finally able to really cry on my way home from Monica's that evening.
I thought about everything. About not being good enough for anyone. About feeling lost. About all the stressors of school. About Mark, and how he hates me, while I continue to love him. About Nathan, and how I made him happy, but I was just like a friend. About Brandon, and how I had opened up to him even though I thought I shouldn't and thought I couldn't, and how he still betrayed me in the end. About Alex, and how I was so sure that we could be great together, but that wasn't good enough to conquer his fears. About Danny, and how he had made me feel, and how I really wanted to just get to know him, how I had been so hopeful, how it had seemed like such a sure thing, how everyone saw just how undeniable our connection was and still is. About my puppy, Jaxon, and how I had to give him away and how I never said goodbye, and how I felt like a horrible pet owner for never giving him enough time or care, and how I pushed that aside and never really dealt with it.
By the time I got home, I had dried my eyes for the most part. As I walked up the stairs to my third-floor apartment, I felt cleansed. Cleansed and tired. My bed was calling my name, and before long, I was answering it's call. And it felt good.
Subconscious
All day Tuesday, I had this really strange feeling. On the surface, I just felt blank, but inside, it was as if I could feel something moving. It was as if my subconscious was trying to sift and sort through all my problems without me. I didn't want to think about anything, but even if I had wanted to, I couldn't. I tried a few times, but to no avail. Whenever I tried to consciously sort through things, my mind was flooded with extraneous thoughts, and I couldn't get to the bottom of anything. Since everytime I tried to think things would only get more muddled than they had been before, I decided to just let my subconscious do whatever it was that it was doing.
I can't think of any other instance where I felt a similar feeling. I felt as if I was just floating along all Tuesday, like I was on autopilot to a destination I hadn't been made aware of.
What I Thought I Wanted
Despite my emotional release a few days prior, on Wednesday I still felt constricted and bottled up. I figured that perhaps some sexual release would be just the thing to further my cleansing...or something like that. Who knows what my brain was thinking? I had been horny lately, but without anyone close to me, up to that point I had been forced to take care of any sexual urges myself. I found that my dates with Handrew were becoming more and more predictable while also becoming less and less satisfying. I thought what I wanted was a little sexual excitement in my life. I thought what I wanted was a boy.
On Wednesday I got what I thought I wanted. Turns out, it wasn't what I really wanted. Big surprise, right? Well, it was to me...sorta...
See, before my sexual escapade that evening, while me and the boy were just hanging out, I thought to myself, "Ya know, this guy is pretty cool. I mean, he's nice and he's attractive enough. Maybe I could start to like him as more than a friend. Maybe this could really go somewhere. Maybe I could grow to really care for him."
So, when I woke up the next morning and realized that I felt awkward, I was a little surprised. I didn't look at him very much. I tried to pretend I wasn't there...or that he wasn't there...or that it wasn't really happening...or that the previous night hadn't really happened. Then, I realized the previous night, I had been doing the same thing somewhat.
While he and I had been fooling around and otherwise doing what two gay boys typically will do in bed together, I had been pushing my thoughts and emotions out of the experience altogether. I looked back on the exploit, and I realized that I didn't really feel as if I had been an active participant in the escapades of the night before. I felt only like a spectator that had been living vicariously through someone else's fantasies. Not only did I feel as if I hadn't actively done the any of the things I had in fact done with the boy, but more so, I felt as if I had just allowed my base, carnal, lascivious desires to take over my body completely, while the rest of me, my logical, methodical, humane side merely went to sleep. Perhaps thats why, when it was all over, it was so easy for me to go to sleep as if it hadn't happened in the first place.
How Much I Miss You
That night, as I slept, my subconscious mind sent a little reminder to the conscious side of thougth. I was reminded of just how much I miss Danny, reminded of the way he made me feel, of the excitement I had felt when he and I had seemed like such a sure thing. The dream was extremely vivid and concise. It was as if the entire situation had been shrunken down and exaggerated into what seemed like only a 5 minute span of time. I woke up, and suddenly, I remembered that he was gone, because I had remembered what it had been like when he was around. I had pushed those thoughts out of my mind up to that point. I had thought of him, but only in passing, following the trend of not allowing myself to focus on anything that would cause me pain or strife.
I hadn't tried to forget him. I had only laid all thoughts of him to the side. I realized on wednesday that all the emotion the situation had caused was still there, and it frightened me that I had been so successful in not thinking about it.
That had been the thing that had always irked me most about Mark. He would lay all his problems to the saide, expecting them to just go away, but I know better than that. How did I let myself just put things off? I had never thought I was even capable of such a thing. I had wondered how Mark was able to do it, and I guess, now I know.
You push things aside, because you really can't deal with them. You don't have the strength or courage to do so. I hope sometime soon I'm able to deal with these feelings. I guess not only am I waiting for some courage to appear, but I'm also waiting for some guidance...for a more definitive and logical answer from Danny...one that actually makes sense this time.
So, I guess that's my week...in pieces...
signed = haplesstext