relationships

We Shared

We shared laughs together.

We shared tears together.

We shared similar interests together.

We shared food together.

We shared fear together.

We shared smiles together.

We shared pictures together.

We shared hate together.

We shared thoughts together.

We shared hugs and kisses together.

We shared ideas together.

We shared knowledge together.

We shared our different pasts together.

We shared moments together.

We shared intimacy together.

We just shared.

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Ice Cream & Control

It wasn’t love. It was something else. It was that false sense of hope. A false wonderful. You were too fast and too blind. When I spoke you barely listened.

And yet I miss something about you.

Your taste was not the best. Nor your smell. Your mind didn’t always make sense. Your fingernails were down to the nubs and you had tinnitus. You had a leg condition and you were a smoker. You spoke like your religion was better than everything else in the world. You didn’t have the best eating habits.

There was something that I liked.

I knew that you questioned things, but I let it go. I didn’t see the harm in taking the time to savor the moment. You were weak and you couldn’t control your body well. Especially your mouth and hands.

I miss your company.

I questioned if those were lies or what you truly believed. I had put a lot on the line to see you. You told me an intimate feeling reserved for someone you should know better. But I ignored it.

Why did you say that?

I don’t have to deal with this ideal life that you want to lead. I guess I was just jealous of your childhood but that’s it. You couldn’t even break up with me like a man. Yet, you do everything else so easily.

I am upset and angry.

I told you my insecurities. I told you my doubts. But you didn’t listen to them. Just what your member was feeling in the moment. I feel a bit betrayed. A bit hollow. A bit relieved. A bit of sorrow. But I know that the life you want isn’t what I want. There is no compromise with this. With me. You were being an idiot. You said so yourself. I agree.

Bye.

The only thing I will miss is that how you made the feeling of suicide go away. Like I somehow had a new found purpose, a meaning.  Like I wasn’t going to be alone anymore. Like maybe I had a partner to deal with life and its many mysteries. To journey on and find what I am good at. Someone to support me and to hold my hand when the anxiety overcomes me. Say, “Shhh… you will be fine. Here’s a suggestion…” And to just sit quietly next to me. Perfectly in sync, without doing much but breathing…

You were not right for me.

 

Confusing Happiness With Love?

I recently had an amazing experience with a guy. My first relationship ever. We had just gone on our third date together… and then he told me that he loved me…

Do I love him as much as he loves me? I repeated that I loved him back but I wonder if this is all going too fast… I have strong feelings for him, for sure, but I am wondering if I am just too insecure to tell him that I feel a little different.

I mean, I am the type that GROWS love for a person instead of just feel it right away.

I feel….

  • too inexperienced
  • too naive
  • too weak
  • too blind
  • too scared
  • too different
  • too worried
  • too scandalous
  • too confused
  • too nervous
  • too greedy
  • too selfish
  • too sensitive
  • too curious
  • too second-guessing
  • too horrible
  • too… loved… Is that a bad thing?

I am a wreck of emotions right now. I take time to think things over and I have thought it all over about what happened last night. What if we are different people hidden in a mask of googly-eyed love? He has already talked about marriage… I don’t want him proposing to me after a month… I need to take hold of the reigns here before it is too late…

-The Human Girl

 

P.S. What is it about me that makes him so into me? :/

I Keep My Phone On Silent

A new day and a new feeling. I don’t know what to make of it and I don’t know how to make it go away. I am nervous and worried about myself. I am scatter-brained and tearful. I don’t know what to do or say. I just see the eyes pointing at me.

There are parts that make me happy. And there are parts that seem to rip my emotional core in two. I write this passage while droplets fall from my eyes.

They come and they communicate. It seems nonstop. I can’t relax. My mind is telling me that it is crashing. My eyes see a blurry past – a sad past with no future.

How can someone stand this? Is it lying if you want to tell someone something, but you don’t know how to tell them? How to convince them that they think you are something else?

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what to do.

Waiting

I wait for you to open up. I wait for you to grow. I wait for you to read. I wait for you to study. I wait for you to have time. I wait for you until I can no longer take it anymore. I wait for you to tell me that I don’t matter and that you have someone else who waits for you instead. I wait for you to change your mind. I wait until I no longer can see that as a possibility. I wait to leave my hometown. I wait to have a new life and job. I wait until I can finish waiting, but I can’t. I wait for you to treat me like I ever mattered. I wait for you to say something about the waiting that I do. I wait for you to be gone from my mind, my soul, my heart. I wait for the agony to subside. I wait until the day I no longer look at my failure of a person who can just move on. I wait for someone new. I wait until I can forget waiting for you. It doesn’t work. I am still waiting… ….

White-Washed & Bland

Max Goff. Bassist who plays with Tom Odell. I like him. ;)

Max Goff. Bassist who plays with Tom Odell. I like him. 😉

My friend, The Warrior, asked me what kind of guy I would be into. She said that she had someone in mind, but wanted to hear what I had to say first. I hesitated. I started saying things that I didn’t like hearing. It was surprising to me. I just couldn’t tell her straight up what I wanted in a man. We both knew how it sounded coming from my mouth: white-washed and bland.

I had some time to think about my answer. I am not sure I like it, but here goes.

I would like a man who loves me and will always want to love me.
I would like a man who knows that I love him no matter what.
I don’t want a man who needs to prove that he is the only person that I will ever need, because that isn’t true.
I would like a man who wasn’t just nice to me to get married and becomes a monster after we take our vows.
I don’t want a man who has an anger problem because that shit is something that I don’t need in my life.
I would like a man who has his own interests and hobbies, whether he wants to share them or not is his choice.
I would like a man who challenges me and makes me want to be a better person.
I would like a man who wants the best without belittling me or patronizing me in the process.
I would like a man to say sorry when he does wrong and feels like he needs to make it up to me.
I would like a man to not keep marriage-ending secrets or hide things from me because he could.
I would like a man who wants to not screw up our kids and wants to give them opportunities and hope for themselves.
I would like him to want to love his family but not think that he has to be the sole savior for them.
I would like him to come to me to discuss our finances, our future prospects and anything that might be bothering him.
I would like him to want to be a man with opinions and not some “yes dear” creation of marriage.
I would like a man who would want to be a better man in anything that he does.
I want him to know that I don’t want to cut his balls off.
I would like him to feel comfortable being silly around me.
I would like him to think that his ethnicity does not give him a right to act a certain way. (I can’t go up against the world all the time)
Tall, dark and handsome, I guess would be a plus.
I just want him to be a good man who doesn’t bore me.

It’s not detailed at all. It’s bland and white-washed. I am more focused on what he can deliver rather than what he is into- although that is just as important. I guess it should be the other way around. What kind of guy would I want? Like, would he have to be really into watching movies and TV? Would he be into reading and writing? Would he be into computers? Would he be into playing with kids? Would he be into science? Would he be into Antarctica? Would he be into hockey? Would he be into Youtube? Would he be into all the stuff I hate? Would he be into all the stuff I used to like? Would he just ONLY like to talk about himself? Would he never like to talk? What a difference likes and dislikes are!

And perhaps I am not even mentioning personality traits? I don’t want a know-it-all academic, a mono-toned bore, a super-handsome ladies man, a bad boy dropout, a sleazeball who only wants to watch porn, an emo crybaby, an ugly constant self-downer, a religious man who controls my “sinning” ways, a super-shy shut-in, a poor restaurant worker with no ambition, a super-rich guy who doesn’t care to remember details about me, an OCD social butterfly who criticizes my looks, a constant weenie, a politically-obsessed suit with a non-stop tongue, a techie who ignores me for his phone, a guy who looks better in my jeans than I do and tells me so… etc. You know, the shallow stuff that we judge people on when we first meet them. (But this is worse because you have the opportunity to date and possibly get married to them. Might as well know the bad stuff.

What does a normal, nice guy even mean? Any guy can be nice. That is perhaps the scariest part of the search. And it’s more than just sexual attraction. (Not that that it is not considered!) I want to be attracted to his brain too.

How do I begin to answer my friend’s question?

Say: “Non Sequitur Relationship”

Talk to me.

Tell me something worth my time. Tell me that you know what love is. Say something that I can laugh at. Tell me that you know a different language. Tell me how to curse in that language. Tell me about your day. Tell me what bothered you. Say how you worry about me. Tell me what you think is right. Tell me what you think is wrong. Tell me that you are up for hypothetical situations. Tell me intimate details about your love life. Say that you like cuddling with me. Tell me details about your family. Tell me what you love and hate about the people you love. Tell me the last time you spoke to your mother. Tell me about the last book you read. Tell me about your sick pet. Tell me about what you think death is. Tell me about the last time you really cried. Tell me about your favorite fragrance. Tell me that you hate it when people are stupid. Say what you think of me. Tell me what kind of weather you enjoy. Tell me about your favorite foods. Say what you hate about me. Tell me about your opinions about being an adult. Tell me about your ambitions. Tell me about your secrets. Tell me about your bad habits. Say what makes you attracted to me. Tell me what kind of activities you do in your spare time. Say that you want to be with me. Say that you love me.

Now tell me that you are sick of talking to me.

When I Loved You

Graffiti in Westwood, CA

Graffiti in Westwood, CA

When I loved you, you were the reason my heart skipped beats. You were the reason why my mind was cloudy and illiterate. You were the only thing on my mind. You were the truth and the lies I told myself. When I loved you, it was like I could not make mistakes. When I loved you, wanting to be near you wasn’t an option for me. When I loved you, I asked you a billion questions because I wanted to memorize your existence into a permanent memory. But that was when I loved you.

Now, the love is faded. It has you reduced like a boiling pot of water. The heat will still be there, but the water has evaporated. A gaping, burning hole continues to form after the water vanishes. The smell of burning metal fills my house and there is nothing that can be done until I get the pot off the fire. Right now, I am still running that fire. I can only hope for the best. It’s funny how something so innocent as water started this mess, that unless you watch over it, it starts to grow wild and unsightly-even dangerous. The innocent water fades away. Retreats to the air. Exists in the house before escaping somewhere else.

There is evaporated love that still lingers in my lungs. It shadows itself in what-if scenarios and fantasies of a future that I wanted when we were still together. “Maybe he is the one. The type of guy to support my aspirations and my dreams. Maybe he will be a kind father for our kids- a real role-model. Maybe we will live in a house with neighbors who envy our constant love for one another. Maybe he will surprise me on how mature he becomes without sacrificing his sense of humor. Maybe we will be old together and have kids that love us back and think that we’re the greatest positive influence in their lives. Maybe we will continue to have adventures and surprises even when we can no longer walk.” Lovey thoughts like that. But also very valid to me at the time. It’s hard to realize that that is no longer the option. That the relationship ended and that there is no turning back. What was said was said. What was done was done. There is nothing that you owe each other. Certainly no future together.

In my dreamlike state of love and boiling water, I realize that I was dealing with a human being that was not me. I fear that we were not meant to be in many ways. Even from the beginning. We were either too similar or too different. But that is because I wanted to gauge the relationship first. Give it a chance. But too many chances were given. I was too nice. I was too forgiving. I was angry at you for making me feel this way. In the end, after so long, we decide to no longer be unhappy.

Some days I feel like the easy option is still to keep loving you. It is easier than hating or trying to forget you. Some days I feel like filling that pot of water again and perhaps watching it closer this time. And on the days that I am sane, I think about moving on and finding someone new to start loving.

Wise Women

How smelly is this car...

The women that I know are women I have seen from a distance.

I have seen them grow up. I have heard their secrets. I have listened to their “grown-up” problems. I looked at them as if they were gods. Those who can slip through anything. Strong enough to tell you off truthfully. They were smart, loving and independent.

Until they stopped.

Those women who I looked up to started to show the wrinkles in their lives to me. And when the wrinkles became mile high canyons, I stopped looking up to them. They were no longer strong, independent and even their love felt forced. When did everything stop being perfect? When did they start shitting on my hopes and admiration for them? It wasn’t enough to know they made mistakes, but to know that their mistakes were so unlike how I visualized them. Their mistakes were so deep and so silly that I wondered how they even built their lives without hesitation. How did they go so long with being so unhappy? How did they tolerate that unhappiness for so long?

I have a mother, four aunts (her sisters) and my own sister. In other words, people that I thought should have been my role models on how to be a strong independent woman. It turns out, every action that I have seen has been selfish. Knowingly bad choices, deep depression, ignoring the truth about themselves, drug addiction, unchecked severe anxiety and even late divorce has made them seem… selfishly broken. I have learned many things from their abundant mistakes. The first thing being: tolerating things. They just tolerate the bad until they have had enough. This is scary to me because I do it so well myself. I guess I learned from the best… But this is a bad thing because it means that I have the will to tolerate staying with a bad husband, tolerating staying at a bad job, or tolerating no self-growth before either exploding or becoming an unhappy puppet. I have a tendency to accept that something isn’t working out but staying with it anyway. I blame my high toleration on the fact that I don’t know what I want out of life. And I have seen that the women in my life have also been confused about this as well. They don’t know what makes them happy without bringing outer variables into it. There is nothing about themselves that keeps them on a self-actualized autopilot. And to define “self-actualized pilot,” sure there is turbulence, but at least there is a happy constant in their life. Most likely from within. A fact too far from the current truth.

I fear for my future because I can go down a path that resembles theirs. One mistake and I’m automatically like them. I have lived that way most of my adult life. Avoiding myself being remotely like them. Even being in their presence now scares me. Like they will somehow touch their skin onto mine and I will fail at life. But I know that is just a silly, ignorant thing to say. What I mean is that I just don’t want to compare myself to them. Not until I get it together. A happy, fulfilled life. Most likely medicated and visiting a psychiatrist’s office often. At least I can prevent the problems from happening because I am starting to see them emerge. Nonetheless, I am worried. (See? Anxiety.)

There is a quote that I really liked from a Tyler Perry film. Most recently, I have been thinking about it a lot. It’s about how you are the reason you succeed or fail in life. I identify with it, because I have blamed the adults in my life for causing me emotional problems even though that I shouldn’t marinate in those types of thoughts.

You’re in jail
because of what you did.
Learn how to take some responsibility
for yourself. For your own stuff.
I can’t stand folks wanna be the victim.
“This person did this so I’m this way.”
Everybody got a story.
Your mama and daddy
gave you life.
That’s all they do. No matter
how good, how bad the life was…
…it’s up to you to make something of it.
Suck it up and shut the hell up.

-Madea from “Madea Goes To Jail”

Harsh and true words Madea. (She is such a wise badass) This world values different things. Mistakes from the women and men in my life will always happen. No one’s perfect. But repeat offenders are a real problem. I would like to not be one of these people. I want to be successful and happy. I want a partner that wants the same things and will undergo the same constant struggles as me. I want to teach my kids that they will make the same mistakes until they will get it right. I want them to look up to me and see that I can form healthy relationships and hopefully see how it can benefit them. As someone who is a first generation kid in this country, it seems like I will know a little better about how to handle my kids and find what I want and don’t want. But I am jumping ahead a few years… That is if I even have kids or even a person to mentor in life.

But back to the women. Again, I have learned so much from them. I have shared laughs, professional advice, fun day trips and have seen above and beyond hospitality from them. They took me in when they didn’t have to. They are still wonderfully kind people. They are absolute treasures in my life. After all, they are still family. Family doesn’t ignore each other. If anything they are guilty of sharing too much. I just wish that I could see them live up to their full and free potential again. Confidence, independence, strength, intelligence and love. It’s all I want to see.

-The Human Girl