So I still didn't write anymore today. I need to. I don't know why my head space isn't there right now. I think this is what they refer to writers block. Maybe not though, it's all there, I just don't have the motivation to get it out.
I wish I knew how to be normal about the whole Ed thing. I wish even after I woke up sober and I was a dick today he would of said something. He attempted to be nice last night. I was still an ass. I'm not good at these people things. I want him to be cool yo. I want him to know me. I want him to want to want to know me. I want him to be the guy I apologized to. Who was lightweight excited to maybe know me again. I did miss him. I do just want to actually hug him. Hang out. Do something. Maybe even do nothing. Stare at a ceiling together and talk. Clear the air. I didn't really care. I just wanted to try. To get passed the weird. The hurt. The anger. The horrible between us. I wanted him to really know me. I never really showed him me before. And I thought we agreed we were older and wiser.
I thought that it meant we had an opportunity for a fresh start. Something brand new. That's why I just wanted to bypass the weird and get it out of the way. I just wanted to get it all out of the way so that when he looked at me I didn't see jaded. I hated myself for hurting him. The lingering pain devastates me. He was so awesome, even though he had faults. I don't blame him for his. I contributed. I had no idea how hurt he was about his marriage. We made jokes, I just thought he was morose like me.
I'm always dancing on my own.
His laugh is fantastic. His awkwardness, when he's not a jerk, is even nice too. I get it. I hurt him. I was self absorbed. I remember the last night we hung out. The night of the fight. He was drinking. He was always over zealous as a drunk. But I was sitting in chairs with Nick and he was standing talking to some of my mothers friends. Across the fire. He looked at me. His glasses were slipping down his face. I walked over and fixed them and gave him a kiss. I don't know if he remembers that. It was the last kiss we ever had.
There are these moments. Clear as day to me. I have my favorites. I have a lot of favorites. The day I met him. I see it like yesterday. The night at pride, I took his wallet, leaned my ass over the bar for maximum attention. I showed him off. I woke up in his car the next morning alone. I'm not sure what conspired after all the drinks. I went in my house and he was asleep on my couch. I guess I opened the door while driving and puked right in front of the police??
My birthday one year he bought me a set of disc's, took me to see the movie I had been obnoxiously waiting to see. Afterwards, we went for a drink at a bar a few miles from where I lived. We were the only ones in there. It was like nothing else in the world existed. And I know it's stupid, to hold on to these things like they just happened. Like nothing happened in between them. I know things did. But it's who I am. I hold tightly to good because it's so rare. He's rare.
The night his car battery died. We went up in Michigan to a farther course. A new one for me. Then he took me out to dinner. Famous Dave's. Then we were going to go for a drink. We did. and we started talking to this homeless guy in the parking lot. He dumped out some change for him. I think he referred to himself as hollywood. And we sat there talking with him forever. Listening to music. The battery died. We walked to the Park Inn and he got us a room. I was so afraid to be with him. So hesitant. He scared me so much. Saying it now is a hell of a lot easier than when we were there. We got up the next day and had breakfast in the hotel, and spent the majority of the day trying to figure out what was wrong with the car. I told him we needed a jump. After not listening to me and instead to his friend, who was wrong... eventually he got a jump and I was fucking hangry. I had been there all day. And I was right. The look on his face when the jump worked though. One of my favorites that stayed.
I still have pictures of us. Memories I couldn't bring myself to destroy. As if I could if I wanted to.
And now there is this. This awful. This I don't want feeling between us. He has always been head strong. And spiteful. His spite has always been destructive. I've always hated it. I can hardly even look him in his eyes. And I don't know if it's just because I'm still embarrassed about what happened. Or because I'm not nearly as hot. Because I hate the things that did go down. Because he did hurt me too. Or because I just have an instinct to tell him kind things. I want him to know all the wonderful things I think about him. He's not just a handful of past mistakes to me. So much more than that he's him.
The night he looked at me and told me he could love me. In his house, in his bed, we had just been out all day. He told me if I wanted him to, he could. I had prayed for someone to love me. (crying right now) My heart stopped. He saw me. I wasn't just nothing to him then. And now, I am.. just a nothing. And hindsight is 20/20 . Maybe in my life, in my story, I always figure it out too late. Maybe I don't ever get that kind of happy. Maybe it's never enough. Maybe we don't ever get to be friends again.
Perhaps there is always a lingering. An oddity of a feeling that doesn't pass. Because he can never trust me, or let that guard down again. Maybe he's always just an old lover. 5 years after I ask him out for the first time and I'm sitting here regretting every bit of the person I was that was too stupid to know. Who was too selfish and scared. With age comes wisdom, but what good is it to have all the knowledge in the world if you can't use it and apply it to life? I still don't think I could ever trust just anyone. Maybe I'm always too fucked up to love. I could really be doomed. Even after the first hang up between us. I was walking out of the doors at Pilot gas station. It was evening. I can remember the way the air felt on my skin. It was a little chilly. He was coming in as I was going out. Our eyes locked immediately. It was like no time had passed at all. It had been a year. A week before that I was swearing to the Universe I was ready for love. Swearing it again to her, my god was I wrong. But I didn't see him and that moment and think about any of the bad that had happened. It was like I was looking at my best friend. My soul lit up with excitement.
He always tried to make up for his wrong doings too. I know that. I don't think they were something he could buy his way back from. I think it was just something we needed time for. I don't know if that's he case now. I know I fucking think all this sucks. It sucks just wanting to have this piece of a person you knew and having it be estranged. I've slept next to him. He knows my family. I want to hug him. Have whole conversations. And I feel him hesitate. And I don't blame him. Really honestly I don't. That doesn't make it hurt any less.
Maybe even makes it hurt more. To know how bad I can mess some things up. And there isn't a golden opportunity to make any of it better. In fact, I'm pretty sure with all my anxiety about it all it's only cementing in him why he shouldn't. I am my own worst enemy. I missed him. He was more than a lover. He was my friend. That's why it hurt so bad every time he left. Every time he did these things to make me go away too. Three years is a long time to be mad at someone. I hate that we hated each other. He used to make me smile.
I'm sitting here crying hating myself for hating him. Lord knows we both fucked up. Is it always too late? How is he so cosmically intertwined in my life if that's all?
I know I'm in a rush to get passed this because I have no tomorrow guarantee and I know that's not his fault. But I don't want to waste anymore of my life bitter and broken. Not saying the important things. Not caring when I have all the ability to in the world now. Life is short, too short not to give it my all. I can still smell him sometimes.
I know I'm the queen of strange. Maybe in another parallel dimension we got it right. Maybe just not this time in this life. I'm sorry.
I wish I knew how to be normal about the whole Ed thing. I wish even after I woke up sober and I was a dick today he would of said something. He attempted to be nice last night. I was still an ass. I'm not good at these people things. I want him to be cool yo. I want him to know me. I want him to want to want to know me. I want him to be the guy I apologized to. Who was lightweight excited to maybe know me again. I did miss him. I do just want to actually hug him. Hang out. Do something. Maybe even do nothing. Stare at a ceiling together and talk. Clear the air. I didn't really care. I just wanted to try. To get passed the weird. The hurt. The anger. The horrible between us. I wanted him to really know me. I never really showed him me before. And I thought we agreed we were older and wiser.
I thought that it meant we had an opportunity for a fresh start. Something brand new. That's why I just wanted to bypass the weird and get it out of the way. I just wanted to get it all out of the way so that when he looked at me I didn't see jaded. I hated myself for hurting him. The lingering pain devastates me. He was so awesome, even though he had faults. I don't blame him for his. I contributed. I had no idea how hurt he was about his marriage. We made jokes, I just thought he was morose like me.
I'm always dancing on my own.
His laugh is fantastic. His awkwardness, when he's not a jerk, is even nice too. I get it. I hurt him. I was self absorbed. I remember the last night we hung out. The night of the fight. He was drinking. He was always over zealous as a drunk. But I was sitting in chairs with Nick and he was standing talking to some of my mothers friends. Across the fire. He looked at me. His glasses were slipping down his face. I walked over and fixed them and gave him a kiss. I don't know if he remembers that. It was the last kiss we ever had.
There are these moments. Clear as day to me. I have my favorites. I have a lot of favorites. The day I met him. I see it like yesterday. The night at pride, I took his wallet, leaned my ass over the bar for maximum attention. I showed him off. I woke up in his car the next morning alone. I'm not sure what conspired after all the drinks. I went in my house and he was asleep on my couch. I guess I opened the door while driving and puked right in front of the police??
My birthday one year he bought me a set of disc's, took me to see the movie I had been obnoxiously waiting to see. Afterwards, we went for a drink at a bar a few miles from where I lived. We were the only ones in there. It was like nothing else in the world existed. And I know it's stupid, to hold on to these things like they just happened. Like nothing happened in between them. I know things did. But it's who I am. I hold tightly to good because it's so rare. He's rare.
The night his car battery died. We went up in Michigan to a farther course. A new one for me. Then he took me out to dinner. Famous Dave's. Then we were going to go for a drink. We did. and we started talking to this homeless guy in the parking lot. He dumped out some change for him. I think he referred to himself as hollywood. And we sat there talking with him forever. Listening to music. The battery died. We walked to the Park Inn and he got us a room. I was so afraid to be with him. So hesitant. He scared me so much. Saying it now is a hell of a lot easier than when we were there. We got up the next day and had breakfast in the hotel, and spent the majority of the day trying to figure out what was wrong with the car. I told him we needed a jump. After not listening to me and instead to his friend, who was wrong... eventually he got a jump and I was fucking hangry. I had been there all day. And I was right. The look on his face when the jump worked though. One of my favorites that stayed.
I still have pictures of us. Memories I couldn't bring myself to destroy. As if I could if I wanted to.
And now there is this. This awful. This I don't want feeling between us. He has always been head strong. And spiteful. His spite has always been destructive. I've always hated it. I can hardly even look him in his eyes. And I don't know if it's just because I'm still embarrassed about what happened. Or because I'm not nearly as hot. Because I hate the things that did go down. Because he did hurt me too. Or because I just have an instinct to tell him kind things. I want him to know all the wonderful things I think about him. He's not just a handful of past mistakes to me. So much more than that he's him.
The night he looked at me and told me he could love me. In his house, in his bed, we had just been out all day. He told me if I wanted him to, he could. I had prayed for someone to love me. (crying right now) My heart stopped. He saw me. I wasn't just nothing to him then. And now, I am.. just a nothing. And hindsight is 20/20 . Maybe in my life, in my story, I always figure it out too late. Maybe I don't ever get that kind of happy. Maybe it's never enough. Maybe we don't ever get to be friends again.
Perhaps there is always a lingering. An oddity of a feeling that doesn't pass. Because he can never trust me, or let that guard down again. Maybe he's always just an old lover. 5 years after I ask him out for the first time and I'm sitting here regretting every bit of the person I was that was too stupid to know. Who was too selfish and scared. With age comes wisdom, but what good is it to have all the knowledge in the world if you can't use it and apply it to life? I still don't think I could ever trust just anyone. Maybe I'm always too fucked up to love. I could really be doomed. Even after the first hang up between us. I was walking out of the doors at Pilot gas station. It was evening. I can remember the way the air felt on my skin. It was a little chilly. He was coming in as I was going out. Our eyes locked immediately. It was like no time had passed at all. It had been a year. A week before that I was swearing to the Universe I was ready for love. Swearing it again to her, my god was I wrong. But I didn't see him and that moment and think about any of the bad that had happened. It was like I was looking at my best friend. My soul lit up with excitement.
He always tried to make up for his wrong doings too. I know that. I don't think they were something he could buy his way back from. I think it was just something we needed time for. I don't know if that's he case now. I know I fucking think all this sucks. It sucks just wanting to have this piece of a person you knew and having it be estranged. I've slept next to him. He knows my family. I want to hug him. Have whole conversations. And I feel him hesitate. And I don't blame him. Really honestly I don't. That doesn't make it hurt any less.
Maybe even makes it hurt more. To know how bad I can mess some things up. And there isn't a golden opportunity to make any of it better. In fact, I'm pretty sure with all my anxiety about it all it's only cementing in him why he shouldn't. I am my own worst enemy. I missed him. He was more than a lover. He was my friend. That's why it hurt so bad every time he left. Every time he did these things to make me go away too. Three years is a long time to be mad at someone. I hate that we hated each other. He used to make me smile.
I'm sitting here crying hating myself for hating him. Lord knows we both fucked up. Is it always too late? How is he so cosmically intertwined in my life if that's all?
I know I'm in a rush to get passed this because I have no tomorrow guarantee and I know that's not his fault. But I don't want to waste anymore of my life bitter and broken. Not saying the important things. Not caring when I have all the ability to in the world now. Life is short, too short not to give it my all. I can still smell him sometimes.
I know I'm the queen of strange. Maybe in another parallel dimension we got it right. Maybe just not this time in this life. I'm sorry.
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