PURE UNADULTERATED THOUGHTS & FEELINGS LETTER: DRAFT, PART 1
Sorry in advance, totally raw and unedited stream of consciousness
PURE UNADULTERATED THOUGHTS & FEELINGS LETTER: PART 1
[Journal Entry Preface]
Lol it’s amazing how much better a few hours makes you feel
But, in terms of productivity, I got a FUCK TON of things done this weekend.
But I’m going to have to instill a ban on all arts and crafts activities outside normal arts and crafts activities hours...
Pretty much on my own for the next idk how many days precisely
That is a lot of alone time, even for me
I miss Tim tbh, he was always here lurking around and I spent literally all of my free time with him, joining him in lurking around, or staying at sketchy 234 hotels, or camping, or just kicking it on the curb somewhere people watching
... I don’t really feel comfortable interacting with the people, I miss my delusional friend that thought all of them were government spooks or cops.
______________ Start of Letter______
Hey fucker,
You left a giant gaping hole in my life you little shit
I hate this
There’s never going to be another you
I’m not ok with that
Like it’s not that I even give a shit if we actually date or not (but yeah, we should never date again, we definitely tried our fucking best to make it work but we’re about as toxic together as fucking Chernobyl)
But it fucking turns out you were more important to me that just some boyfriend anyways.
You’re my fucking best friend, and it sucks because I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever actually see you again before suddenly so much time has passed that we won’t really even know each other anymore.
I told you not to use up all the money on the stupid tel-link you fucking retard
Heard you’re still alive though... your mom told me you wanted me to send some of the pictures of us together, so I guess you’re alive keeping your cellies entertained while I’m out here stuck with the fucking crickets
*except wait, there are no crickets it’s fucking December. Why does it still FEEL like summer in my head?
I want to be petty with you, trade insults and throw shit and walk around acting like asses screaming at each other like the rest of the world can’t hear the jerry springer shit form miles away
(I also miss watching jerry springer with you my dude)
Honestly, I wasn’t even planning on ever writing to you, because you’re a fucking prick
After all the dumb shit you’ve pulled the last thing you deserve from me is sympathy you arranging fucking lunatic
-- but godfuckingdamnit I’m pretty much sitting were, writing to your ass now.
So fucking fine bitch I guess I may as well print this shit and put a damn stamp on it
(I did finally get stamps though-- “not ever gonna write to you” lmao fuck idk who the fuck I’m trying to fool, you know I’ve never been able to stay mad at you; even though you know I really should--
Dude. Someone fucking knocked on the front door the other day (delivery person I assume, idk I don’t answer the fucking door what do I look like their damn butler?!)... and they did the tap tap-tap tap-tap tap (humor me idk how to type taps phonetically- you know what I’m trying to say) and for just a second I let my self get hopefully like it was you and you got out somehow.
Stranger things have happened
.
You don’t know this... because I never actually finish any of it, or show anybody, or even fucking save it most of the time, but from the very beginning of our relationship (the early early early days getting high at Andy’s house or sneaking you into the basement), for some reason I always seem to do my best writing thanks to you, because of you. I don’t understand it, really, I ain’t got a damn fucking clue to be perfectly honest... but you (and you alone) for whatever reason seem to invoke something in me -- maybe it’s like supercharged maternal instinct? Fraying sanity? Black out, tunnel vision, rage? Lust? Martyrdom or saintliness?? [lmfao dude saintliness, me? I think that might actually be a goddamn oxymoron moron. Hail Satan, and all that good stuff] Toxic obsession or infatuation or something... love? Like, you never should have questioned me, see, because you never had any reason to believe I didn’t actually love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. Damnit I have ONLY ever loved you you stupid cunt. All the shit I’ve ever known before (before you, my exes, you know what the hell I mean) wasn’t even love (I know this now), it was only words, bullshit, feeding my ego off of their feelings for me.
Dude, when you came into my life that shit blindsided me so forcefully a 2x4 would have caused less of an impact. I became more addicted to you than I ever was to heroin. (Honestly, riding that metaphor for a moment, I’m sort of still going through WDs, after we split I wanted your shit out of my system so fucking bad if I could have reached into my body and pulled that shit out like some grisly tapeworm and thrown it on the fire I would have in a heartbeat, just to be rid of you. You fucked me up man, no bones about it. That feeling shit went systemic and now I guess I have to make do with the fact that your fucking bitchass has now just become a part of me. Like a tumor. (One that I did once consider “having removed” lol but fuck it I guess you metastasized. Oh well)
- but yeah like I was saying, idk what you alone seemed to provoke in me, but whatever it is it’s some primal, animalistic magnetism.
I know you feel it too, you’ve felt it in your skin, that bizarre ass electric feeling when our bodies touched skin to skin, like we got fucking radio active whenever we fucked.
That shit ain’t natural.
(Like all our synapses and nerve endings are best buddies with each other and our physical closeness caused them all to be like HEY LOOOK YOU GUYS CAME BACK LETS GET THIS MOTHERFUCKING PARTY STARTED (my mental image of this has all the little goosebumps reaching tiny arms up like “put your hands in the air like you just don’t care” ... idk dude I still can’t fucking sleep, lol you know things sometimes get a little strange up in there when severely sleep deprived --actually shut the fuck up you know you think that shits funny, Mr. Hannibal lecture feeding shit to birds to make them explode weirdo drawing ass. I never did get that letter btw, the family must have intercepted it and just chucked the shit. BUT fuck <- haha, still funny- I keep going off topic with all these fucking sidebars, like this is a letter not a conversation. BUT, one more thing before I return to the topic at hand, another thing I really miss that I know I will never be able to replace are our fucking deep Vulcan Mind-Meld [sorry that’s a star trek reference because as you’re already well aware, I’m a damn nerd] type conversations about philosophy or the meaning (or lack there of *insert door to door religious recruiter attire* “Greetings sir, can you spare just a moment so that I may enlighten you about the existentialist schools of thought, and his ‘not special because no one is special or significant in any way whatsoevership Mr. Friedrich Nietzsche- *stops mid sentence and just sort of walks away because fuck it it doesn’t matter anyways*” ... ok, that was the last dumb joke until I manage to finish my damn thought about the crazy chemistry that turned us into boomerangs that never seem to actually escape one another, instead we just leave and come running right back (once we’ve demonstrated the appropriate level of theatrics, spitefulness and mayhem, but truthfully, I think I would actually be content to simply continue running around and around through our revolving door of a relationship, deep down I know you will always probably be ‘it’ for me).
You might even be too tough an act to follow, I’m kind of afraid that is going to be the case.
How could any one hope to compete with the sensation of electric skin, or the obvious fact that dude, that ‘thing’ you draw out in me is like passion and (excuse me while I say something even more disgustingly mushy than I’ve already been this whole stupid letter) uhh what seems to be inspiration.
The majority of the better writing I’ve ever done in my life (that doesn’t include vitriolic ranting about ALL THINGS because I’m kind of a rageaholic if you haven’t already noticed), somehow always ended up being directed at/about you. Not that I’ll ever show you, or could even find anymore if I tried (but why do you think I always got so pissed when you’d go through my phone? Because dimwit I knew you might stumble upon some sappy shit and it’d be humiliating. EMBARRASSMENT, Tim. That’s what I was “so afraid of” ... you dumbfuck thought I was cheating, WHY is that ALWAYS the go to?!?! ‘Oh this bitch wants privacy? Oh hell no, she’s fucking somebody else, that’s the only possible thing my limited worldview allows me to conclude. No it couldn’t possibly be the fact that this girls sappy pathetic emotional insides are exposed ALL OVER that fucking electronic device. Nooo, why would anyone be that desperate to hide some stupid shitty rambling when she has a vagina. Fucking idiot. Like really, I even told you that once, when you insisted on reading my journals and scouring my phone. You caused an emotionally devastating crisis of self deprecation and humiliation. You should probably be ashamed of yourself, but whaaatever that’s none of my damn business now is it? Add that to the big ol’ bowl o’ regret you’ve got to choke on in there.
Lmao oh and the most UNBELIEVABLY hilarious part is that fucking love letter you found, was to YOU, shit for brains, it was literally about you, like how could you miss that? I mean what... the... fuck.
~I mean serious, how fucking oblivious can you really be?!~
Dude, when it comes to certain things, you are a goddamn genius, you’re like a magician of criminal enterprise, your mechanical skills are like freaky savant level like I am so impressed you can fix any thing, like miss - shit what’s her name? The sweet little lady that lived next to us up in Wisconsin, the incredible zucchini bread lady? I’ll remember it eventually, I feel bad now she was just the sweetest lady-!You fixed that ancient ass Cadillac some how when I don’t think you ever owned a car... or had a job working on cars. The way you fixed our AC and the apartment appliances, and your lectures on how to dismantle and deactivate alarm systems and locks [BECAUSE HE WAS GAINFULLY EMPLOYED AT ONE POINT as a locksmith and at an alarm company, the knowledge indubitably came from that employment, I am not alleging anything illegal or untoward]
~I already know you’re gonna be pissed about even indirectly referring to such things, but I doubt the inmate mail inspectors want to read a whole damn essay. And like, this is purely a letter to the father of my children iterating all the things I wish I’d had the wherewithal to just fucking say a hell of a lot more often, or even say some of it at all.
Get over yourself.
*continue talking about how I learned from him sexually Olympian deviant like me yada yadda
Other times, You can also be god damn idiot
Like man, you seriously had some shit so unbelievably twisted and backwards that honestly a lot of the time I struggled to take the things you actually started thinking seriously.
For months I honestly kind of thought that YOU were the one screwing with my head
[And by the way... if so, and this is actually your idea of a fun game then yeah, you would most assuredly be a malevolent psychopath. No if’s, ands or buts. Trust me when I say I don’t really believe that to be true, I can’t, by my own nature... I fundamentally just can’t entertain the idea that someone I think I know as well as I think I know you, who I genuinely care about, could be that unthinkable caliber of monster.
I mean I hope not, our children share half of those same genes that you’ve got.
If I happened to be wrong then they should just keep you there, throw away the key, and call it a day.]
ANYWAYS- back to it once more (my point I again have failed to conclude-- fucking ADHD man, I can’t even write something without being distracted so frequently that my personal writing style is pretty much entirely incomprehensible, rambling nonsense. Whoops. I don’t give a shit, again, this is my goddamn letter and I can write it as poorly as I fucking feel like writing it.)
Sooo... oh right:
From where I’m standing, some of the shit you were saying I wasn’t even able to believe at all, or take it as seriously as I should have.
That’s one of MY greatest regrets.
Now (I think) I know that you were not joking or playing games or fucking with my head.
Something screwed yours up, and badly (though it wasn’t me, and I hate to break it to you but yeah even though I suppose I’m a pretty smart girl, I mean come on... I am not like super villain mind control smart... I’m not even Einstein smart. I’m like marginally above average and people -- especially you in this particular case-- give me entirely too much credit. And look man, stop trying to make me take credit for your (what appear as delusional from my end) theories.
I no longer care to bother arguing with you about all that outlandish shit; Though I stand firm on the sole count of my alleged complicity, I never actually did anything wrong, I don’t work for google or DARPA or the NSA or any of the myriad other ‘spooky’ alphabet agencies. LITERALLY, with me what you see is actually what you get. I am the most blunt and forthright, excessively over sharing, filterless person, I don’t hide anything, ever, like I pretty much tell strangers (all over) on the internet my entire life story (not because they ever ask, lol nobody ever asks... lmao but to be fair I don’t give them much of a chance though)
I am who I say I am (and you know you’re singing that Eminem song now, probably, and now thanks that shit is gonna be stuck in my head forever).
You should have taken me at face value.
I allowed myself to become vulnerable to you in ways I never would have if I didn’t trust you (and hey guess what you shady fucker, that kind of implicit trust is only ever possible if coming from an individual who is by their very nature, fucking trustworthy. You know I’m pretty much always right with the random knowledge I pull out of my ass directly from nowhere. Ask around, seriously, see if your fellow inmates believe what I’ve just explained about the nature of trustworthy peoples ability to trust, they probably are in an exceptionally knowledgeable position to know it’s absolutely true... because much of the time the people who wind up in jail are the ones who have backbone and chose to adhere to their ethics by not snitching or betraying their peers. Trustworthy people trust people, I have always trusted you with everything I value and my life, not to mention that I have always given you the benefit of the doubt. The traitors actually, are the ones who’re always the most suspicious, their own duplicitous nature leads them to think that everyone else is doing the same. - in order to understand the world around us, people are naturally inclined to project their own individual traits/motives/thoughts/inclinations and cumulative understanding of the way things are on to our fellow man (be they actually present in any given individual or not)
ACTUAL EXCERPT TO BOLSTER MY POINT: Psychology Today, “The Trouble With Trust,” author Peg Strep, March 24, 2015 (look at me remembering how to site sources; How do you like that copy/paste action? This is why I suggested we only argue in writing that one time, my prose game is unshakably impervious to those who might dare poke holes or eviscerate my argument with the detection of fallacies of logic- cause there never are any-I have thoroughly mastered the art of critical thinking, and yes I’m rooting the ever loving shit out of my own horn- by knocking the core tenants out from underneath)
Ok, ok, I’m done being an asshole now, we may continue:
““Keep in mind that these mental representations aren’t a function of conscious process. Trust or lack of it isn’t produced through rational thought processes but are processed according to a mental script we may not even know we follow unless we have been in therapy or have come to a real understanding of how our childhood experiences have affected us. Even so, in the moment, we may not recognize the patterns.”
This except summarizes my own explanation in regards to the matter of trust as being more a way in which your own personal outlook and manner of thinking are made evident (aka your own fucking hang ups and mental baggage), than truly in actuality having any true basis in reality, revealing absolutely nothing whatsoever concerning the veracity and/or general trustworthiness of whatever individual you are attempting to size up.
Furthermore, your ability to trust, or the lack therof has NOTHING at all to do with any other person (and certainly not the particular person in question you’re attempting to determine the trustworthiness of, I.e. Me, for the purpose of this argument), it’s simply a reflection of yourself, and it is PRIMARILY BASED ON AND INFLUENCED PREDOMINANTLY BY... DING DING DING-YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR MOTHER DURING YOUR CHILDHOOD!!!!
So, fact is none of this insecurity or your pervasive lack of trust is not now nor has it ever been about me, it’s about your insecure attachment to your mother as a child (insecure attachment meaning those feelings of neglect, abandonment, absenteeism, and inconsistency, her unsteady presence and frequent absences taught you that you cannot rely on the people you love to be there for you or take care of you every time you need them, only sometimes being available to fulfill the role as a parent that you needed as a small child in order to survive.
So instead you developed a greater ability to guarantee and ensure your own survival (and seriously, you’re a fucking badass with a freaky ability to get what you want from someone/in a given situation). That shit you went through taught you how to be extremely resourceful. Unlike me who had the overbearing parent that insisted on just doing everything for me everything for me as a child and later micromanaging my every action to such an extreme that I’m functionally paralyzed until my mommy gives me the permission to something or gives me some kind of directions to follow, withering my executive function abilities so significantly as to have basically rendered me useless and incapable of achieving even the most basic necessities of life. It’s why she awarded herself the power to steal my children [by the way, they will be here in a couple days and oh my god I’m so excited I think I might cry], why she presumed to have the authority to dictate who I can and can not date, and where or with who I’m allowed to live. And I get accused of being lazy, but she stunted my very ability to act of my own volition and exist for myself. Her babying also happens to be why I AM TOO TRUSTING, and why I will spend my life believing empty promises or that good intentions mean anything at all without the actions or behavior to back them up, instead of the show me proof or it didn’t happen way of thinking that the challenges of your childhood awarded you.
MIGHT BE TOO HARSH
To be totally blunt and call it exactly like it is, in my opinion, you turned out better than me and way more capable and savvy than I’ll ever be, you had it hard as a child- I won’t pretend to know the extent of what you went through- but the way I see it, your parents probably did you a favor , they forced you to become self reliant, and I’ve never met anyone more so.
But, it also made you a hard person, and frankly my mothers coddling and micromanaging control freak behavior definitely made me a much, much nicer person (to my detriment, my insanely misguided kindness, my ability to understand my fellow man so intensely ~ and that’s not being a mind reader, that’s reading your body, your face, posture, behavior, and extreme attention to detail, I never had to try reading your mind, I knew you and so I could read you like a an book... like those with GIGANTIC font for the visually impaired.... I just started not to openly gay select your behavior is he didn’t want to hurt your feelings because I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting your feelings. Dude, I can see everything, like every single solitary thing, and I notice way more than Ill ever feel motivated to share. I know everything, much more than I actually WANT to know. Trust me dude, you are very, very, scary good- but there ain’t nobody THAT GOOD. I just choose to ignore minor, irrelevant instances of dishonesty or other minor infractions because I don’t give a shit and and no harm no foul as far as I’m concerned. Like I always knew when you’d pinch a pill or try to conflate empirical information to deceive me, but I’d have given it to you anyways, I knew you were always lying about seeing or asking your p. O shit... or even showing up to the appointments
athy will one day kill me) with deep seated fears of abandonment and an incapability of forging real, healthy or close personal relationships (don’t worry what we had/have is real, it’s just outrageously unhealthy... I wouldn’t give it up for anything though, even though you kind of already did when you dumped me), you will never really be able to achieve any kind of peace or actual contentment in your life without always seizing upon some way to stir up drama (doesn’t matter what it’s about, the details are usually unimportant benign/accidental things, they’re just the grist you find in your shell that you use as a way to fuel the creation of your destructive little pearls of discord you used to perpetuate your self inflicted self filling prophecy that you can’t be happy because you’re not for some reason not allowed or something, and that belief is precisely the thing that actually ends up driving the entire cycle-- like I tried explaining to you one night/morning in one of those hotel rooms, only YOU can decide to end the cycle, but only you are capable of breaking it... which is why no matter how hard I tried or how devotedly loyal, in spite of how fucking DESPERATELY I loved you (you jackass), I couldn’t break through in time to save you from yourself, so then obviously I wasn’t capable of saving us, either.
So even though we actually got lucky enough to have the one in a million chance (probably once in a lifetime) to find someone who sparked the kind of frightening, visceral and all consuming love that hitherto only appeared to exist inside of Shakespearean tragedies, the once in a life time blue moon, electric skin once in a lifetime or five, TRUE blue fucking LOVE
The if I can’t have you nobody can love
The sleep in a concrete storage shed in the dead of winter because you couldn’t stand to be away from your son or his mother
Relishing having successfully afforded another room in grimy, dirty ass bed bug ridden crackhead and prostitute infested love
Get clean together love
Stay with you when you’re locked up love
Sleep in a cramped little tent off in a patch of woods dead smack in the middle of a residential neighborhood just so we can *actually sleep together, and be together love
Pack up my things and the child and move across the country together and leave everything else in my life behind kind of love
Aiding and abetting a fugitive love
Calling lawyers, bondsmen, your parents, grandparents, friends and neighbors and harassing people into helping you kind of love
Kicked in front doors and punched out front windows kind of twisted love
Fuck for days kinda love
Love each other in their entirety, flaws and all, respective mental health, substance abuse, socioeconomic demographic and an utter lack of prospects fuck it though we can slee outside, sleep in 1 star hotels, we can sleep on the nasty floor of some random junkies apartment because it never mattered wherever we were as long as we were together lol kind of love
Insane, deranged, lunatic, psychotic love
You are the love of my life
Unfortunately for me, but the fact is undeniable that nobody will ever be able to top that act of yours. I mean honestly, how could they?
It’s really alright though, we don’t need to be connected by some arbitrary title, or even sleep with each other anymore (but thanks a lot nobody is gonna manage to top that Olympian sex god shit like I still have no idea where you were able to learn all of that like you’re the rainman of vaginas)
You’re the father of my kids, and well for that I suppose I’ll love you forever
And for what is worth (lol nothing at all really), to me you honestly are still my best friend, you still mean everything to me and I love you with all my heart. You’ve become one of the most important people in my life, and that doesn’t just suddenly change even though the type of relationship we share does.
It’s not like going to the sink, love isn’t a faucet you can just shut off once you’re done
None of those feelings I felt for you have had time to fade
I’m not sure they need to even fade completely
I think I would actually like if you stayed in my life one way or another,
I know it’ll be weird, we’ll have to act different and we’ll never be able to be as close as we once were, now that it’s over
Your loss has left a gaping hole in my life, an empty void full of loss, regret and what ifs, like some great gulf filled with feelings of emptiness, unwanted love and longing
I hate the thought of never sharing any part of what we had,
Our time together was the happiest I’ve ever been and we shared what are far and away the best years of my life
If asked, I’d do it all over again
My life is infinitely better thanks to the time we shared
So you don’t have to disappear, I don’t feel like eradicating every shred of evidence from whole we were together, even keeping the pictures, it’s better to have loved and lost, than never have loved at all
Right? Dick.
I think it’s maybe even possible for us to still love each other. Even when we’re no longer IN love. If that makes sense? Platinicly, like lifelong friends or some other sappy bullshit, you know?
Well asshole, this sure ran on for a hell of a long time for some dumb ass letter I was passive aggressively resolute about not bothering to write (ok, ok, you’re well aware that I can’t not talk for any extended amount of time, so shut the fuck up)
Miserable bastard, you blew it, for no other reason than your choosing to be a jealous prick with ‘mommy issues’ wah wah wah
The fucking wahmbulance ain’t even coming this time, because the fucking wahmbulance is fucking sick of your bullshit too.
but yeah you blew it in some pathetic, sorry ass effort to sabotage things on your own terms because you are so totally convinced that they’re going to fall apart anyways (is this sounding familiar yet?)(unless you decide to put in the work and work through your shit and self improve enough to be capable of actual happiness and contentment)
Because allow me to be clear, Timothy, I’m just gonna say whatever the fuck I have to say and I’m very much over being censored by your excessive and sometimes baseless paranoia.
I always loved you showing off your dominant side (extremely dominant tbh, I know you just can’t help yourself it’s integral to the person you are and I do love that person) in the bedroom (another sidebar is inbound, but one thing at a time)... buuut sometimes it’s a bit much for ordinary everyday interactions and it’s not necessary for you to dictate and control ALL THE THINGS.
Fascist dictators don’t work in government or familial relationships buddy boy, and you wonder why you’re so stressed the fuck out when you insist on micromanaging every aspect of people’s lives. That shit was unhealthy, you know that, I know that, so we’ll move on.
I kind of do think you might be it for me. My one
--he would be piiiised if he knew I put this on the internet for all the world to see, IN A DAMN FACEBOOK GROUP no less.
Ah shit I would pay good money just to see his fucking face
Frustrating the sanity out of you has always been my favorite pass time, and I know that feeling is mutual.
Damnit boy, I fucking miss you.