Longer version of the last post and a little extra.
How do you tell someone you love "no"? Even when you know you should, when you know nothing good/progressive/meaningful (for him) will come of it? Especially when you know that it does hurt you. I would say that it wasn't "debilitating" but then I was going to say "restrictive". And, aren't they one and the same?
Anna and I had a conversation (or three) about it. I think I wanted it because it would continue to force me to face the fact that nothing has changed between us. He still isn't in love with me. And if, by some chance, he did pick me again for something more committed, he'd be settling. Probably. Sorry, the hope that springs eternal made me add that last word. I was spouting of all the ways we know each other so well. Not that it was Fate, but that we fit together better than we used to. Anna said it was more likely just training. Either could be true. My heart wants my version; my head knows better. So I sit in this quandary.
I know that mostly I was the one to change. Don't get me wrong. I'm still me...but I know how to please him, in all ways. I know how to make him want me. Even if it means hiding pieces of me. And that's wrong. I don't think he could ever accept my slightly goth side. It's not always on the surface, but I like to bring it to the forefront on occasion.
I'd done it on purpose. I can admit to it here. I dressed in a way that would entice him. Because I know. But I painted my nails black. Because that's still me. Response? "I'd thought you'd grown out of that stage."
And the things I taught him. That I did, maybe a little too well. I haven't found better kisses than his. He's "exactly my brand of heroine". So I'll gain a few more track marks. Hurt myself a little more. Because I'll say that I can't do anything else, but, really, it's because I won't let myself do anything else. Because my heart rules here. And I truly can't help that.
Otherwise, I'm about to start learning how to play my violin. One of the managers at Rosie's want someone to play with and she promised to teach me. I think I'll start tomorrow. Violin music makes my blood sing. I feel it all throughout my marrow.
Also I think I got a workout partner. Finally. I really hope that works out because I'm extremely unhappy with my size. It's not so much my weight but that I don't fit in my clothes as well. And I'm starting to get a belly. Really. And exercising always makes me happy. Always did. I just wish I had a sparring partner. (This is going to be so BDSM.) I want so much to do some body conditioning. Because I want to hurt--physically. There is a release in it. Not sexual, not harmful. Safe and controlled. And I can have a good cry. If I cry now, it won't feel good. It won't be cathartic. It will feel pitiful and pathetic.
Also happy birthday to my dad. Granted, it was actually yesterday, but there you have it. I'll go into my week in Jackson another time. I have to wash clothes and go to bed now.
Anna and I had a conversation (or three) about it. I think I wanted it because it would continue to force me to face the fact that nothing has changed between us. He still isn't in love with me. And if, by some chance, he did pick me again for something more committed, he'd be settling. Probably. Sorry, the hope that springs eternal made me add that last word. I was spouting of all the ways we know each other so well. Not that it was Fate, but that we fit together better than we used to. Anna said it was more likely just training. Either could be true. My heart wants my version; my head knows better. So I sit in this quandary.
I know that mostly I was the one to change. Don't get me wrong. I'm still me...but I know how to please him, in all ways. I know how to make him want me. Even if it means hiding pieces of me. And that's wrong. I don't think he could ever accept my slightly goth side. It's not always on the surface, but I like to bring it to the forefront on occasion.
I'd done it on purpose. I can admit to it here. I dressed in a way that would entice him. Because I know. But I painted my nails black. Because that's still me. Response? "I'd thought you'd grown out of that stage."
And the things I taught him. That I did, maybe a little too well. I haven't found better kisses than his. He's "exactly my brand of heroine". So I'll gain a few more track marks. Hurt myself a little more. Because I'll say that I can't do anything else, but, really, it's because I won't let myself do anything else. Because my heart rules here. And I truly can't help that.
Otherwise, I'm about to start learning how to play my violin. One of the managers at Rosie's want someone to play with and she promised to teach me. I think I'll start tomorrow. Violin music makes my blood sing. I feel it all throughout my marrow.
Also I think I got a workout partner. Finally. I really hope that works out because I'm extremely unhappy with my size. It's not so much my weight but that I don't fit in my clothes as well. And I'm starting to get a belly. Really. And exercising always makes me happy. Always did. I just wish I had a sparring partner. (This is going to be so BDSM.) I want so much to do some body conditioning. Because I want to hurt--physically. There is a release in it. Not sexual, not harmful. Safe and controlled. And I can have a good cry. If I cry now, it won't feel good. It won't be cathartic. It will feel pitiful and pathetic.
Also happy birthday to my dad. Granted, it was actually yesterday, but there you have it. I'll go into my week in Jackson another time. I have to wash clothes and go to bed now.