Sad Beautiful Tragic… The new story of US.


Oh my do I have shit to say. But I’m shaking/crying/sobbing too hard at the moment.

Thanks Pandora for not being a bitch today and playing that one song…

You know the one right? The one that was made for US… but you tainted and made it cheap and worth nothing but a fuck and, apparently, some mind blowing/dont stop/never want to stop cunnilingus… With someone ELSE.

Fuck you.

Remember that everytime you think of me.

I’m walking through this fucking fire, head up, soul bared, screaming fuck you….

Remember when it was only the weekends that sucked? I miss those days… and you.

Too bad it’s Monday and I have to drive. I won’t be by myself though, so I will at least try to avoid the line tonight. While someone else is in the car….

I miss you. I’m sorry.

I love you.

Why does Silence have to scream so loud? I miss you.

Another day. I made it through most of it so far. Now we have the silence of night to get through and that pretty much fucking sucks. I hate the night. Sad, because I have always found comfort in the dark, star filled, moon bright, silent, nights. I used to love to lay in the darkness and find comfort in the silence. Now I avoid silence like the plague. I always have the lights on, or the TV or both, the laptop is ALWAYS open, usually with music playing, even if the TV is on because it is almost always muted I just need the added light (:  energy waster right here. Have I told you how many times I dry the clothes in my dryer? I might have a problem. I have this thing now where I have to have the dryer going when I fall asleep at night so the clothes usually get about 3 or 4 cycles before I fall asleep, sorry ‘bout that but this is my reality now. I have to have some sort of something going on to distract me because if I don’t then it is too hard to keep the darkness at bay. With all of the music and noise and Target commercial on Pandora I am pretty distracted. Blackness is a slippery slope. I think it almost won. It still might. But I will continue to fight it as long as I have to.

I miss you. I want to talk to you so bad right now. I had to stop myself from walking straight to the phone to call you when I walked in tonight. I literally had to talk myself out of it in my head. No, you can’t hold the phone and make the bed, just get all your shit done and ready for bed and then call. No, don’t call yet he might still be working and you don’t really want to bug him at work do you? No, don’t text him because he hasn’t sent anything since 3 so he must be really busy just wait a bit longer. Is this fucking for real? Yes, sadly it is. This is actual fucking dialogue that plays in my head.

But I waited. I didn’t call. I didn’t text. I distracted, distracted, distracted until finally you sent a text saying you were hanging out. And you want to know something sad I was crushed and relieved at the same time. It is getting so hard to not get lost in you, your words, your whispers, your love but if you are ‘out’ then there is no way I can get lost in it and that crushes me because getting lost in US is amazing…

Well, I guess I am off to find something else to distract me with because the longer I sit here the more I want to message you. I want to tell you that I miss you so much that it takes my breath away sometimes. I want to ask you to go home so that I can lay with you. I want to cry. Probably will.

I’m sorry. I miss you. I love you.

A silence broken. Maybe you like my silence better. I do.

I’m back from the dead. I think. I am pretty sure I know what it feels like to die now. Or at least I now know what it feels like to beg to be done and for someone to end it. I spent days writhing in pain, begging for some one or thing to take the pain and fever away. I have never felt the pain in my joints and muscles like I felt when I was sick. I even thought someone was trying to poison me at one point.  I was ready to be taken to the hospital. Or to die. Whichever could happen fastest? And I was like this for days. I ate 5 saltines in about 3 days. It was bad. And the stress from Hurricane Black didn’t help I am sure.  I had no idea the flu could bring a grown woman to a crying sobbing mess.

Writing doesn’t comfort me the way it used to. I don’t understand why. I want to write so badly. I want to be able to feel that release I would feel after getting everything out but I can’t. And I think it is going to drive me crazy. I know that this HUGE case of block is not helping but I feel like it might be more than that.

Perhaps it is that I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know how to ‘fake’ it here in my writing. I am a pro at flipping on the fake when needed, as long as I have my props, sunglasses and fake smiles. But when it comes to writing, well, I can’t fake this shit. When I write it is from the now, the real, the raw, and most of the times the oh so fucking ugly. And I feel like I have been so full of ugly for so long that I try to write ‘pretty’. But when I attempt to sort through the mess and pick out the good and the pretty I find myself lost in the blackness and feel like I am swallowed whole and then all the pretty is lost and I feel like I have nothing. So nothing is what I write.

I find that the silence is not even an option any longer. So there is always music on. Loud. Really loud. I avoid sitting. I try to keep my mind and body as busy as possible. Even now I feel like I should be up cleaning but since I have a load in both the washer and dryer and everything already folded and put away I am trying to convince myself that it is okay to sit here and get some shit out. So sit I am. With the music blaring. And the cursor blinking.

So shit is pretty messy here. I have been writing about it. I am just keeping them in a folder for now. Perhaps a blog will be born someday from them. But for now they will stayed buried where all things, dark, scary, shameful, and full of black belong, in a folder hidden on my computer.

I am battling this the only way I can. By the seat of my fucking pants. Fist flying. I still need to battle this beast on my own though.

I need to prove to myself that I can do this. I need to do this to prove that I am not the things I am told I am. And that I am everything I am told I can never be.

I need to find me. I don’t know where to even begin but I know that 5 years is a long time to be wandering lost and I am ready to find the way back to the living.

I am so sorry. I know you beg me to not push. To not give up. And I want you to know that I am not giving up on US. But I need to find ME and fix what happened here while I was so busy lost in US. I am not giving up though. I hope that after I can stand on my own two feet, all by myself with no help, we will find our way back to US. I in no way expect you to ‘wait’ for me. And if you don’t. I understand. But I can’t be distracted right now. And you distract me. US distracts me.

I was so lost in US that I didn’t see how terrible things were here. I was so busy lost in the tingles, the stolen breaths’, and sparkles that I didn’t see my world deteriorating around me.

So now, when you whisper your words and they fall over me like a soft blanket I start to panic. I am so scared that I will get lost in US again and the blackness will take over again and I will be too distracted to see. And we both know how easily I fall into US. Was it not just last night that I startled awake not remembering how I fell into such a peaceful slumber? I can’t allow that to happen. I don’t fall asleep with out tossing and turning and it makes it so much harder to do this alone when I am reminded of what US feels like.

I have been avoiding all things internet related. For days. If I avoid the internet I am not temped to message you. And since my cell phone has been MIA since I survived the flu from fucking hell last week and I haven’t ‘had the time’ to look for it then texting is not an option. Add that I have been avoiding this place like the BLACK fucking plague, because it is so full of black, and it appears that plan No Contact has been fairly successful.

Sorry about that. But I have to battle this dark, blackness filled, depression inducing fucking beast on my own.

I miss you. I love you. I am so sorry. I hope you understand why I have to do this.

Goodnight my Moon. Please don’t hate me.


Remind me what US feels like, please… I can’t remember at all.

I think I finally know why I can’t write to you. I think it is because I am so busy trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t be focusing on US right now, that I have to be miserable because of what is going on around here. So instead I try to distract myself with humming, finger tapping, ring tapping, toe wiggling, leg tapping, remembering to breathe, important one to remember by the way, thanks for reminding me when I forget (:  I often find myself doing more than one of these at a times. 

Thanks for always being there. Thanks for understanding and not pushing too hard. Thanks for your constant love. As much as you amaze me I hate to tell you that I still think some mornings that you wont be around anymore, I don’t understand it, you try to break down these walls, you beg me to let you in, you whisper sweet nothings, you lay with me, you hold me. You lay with me, even when I wont let you hold or touch me, you still just lay there. Are you fucking serious?! Do you seriously see all the amazing things you do for me? Don’t you realize that I don’t deserve all that? I can’t give you all of those amazing things back. I don’t know how to love right. I don’t know how to process or accept the love you show me. It gives me panic attacks. To think that the love you have for me, for US, could ever be a constant is unimaginable to me.

Keep on Loving You just came on. Perhaps to slap me back to what I started this tonight for, to write to you. Not about my fears, panic, anxiety, crazy, brokenness. So that is what I am going to try to do.

I need US. I know that is why I am such a fucking mess right now. It has been weeks it seems like since we have been able to just be US. I don’t even fucking remember what it is like to get lost in US, which happens to be one of my favorite things ever! And for some fucked up reason I am trying to deprive myself of it. I don’t want to avoid US anymore. I want you to make me remember what US is. What US feel like? I don’t want you take my no’s or stop’s ANY LONGER, I know that you know how to get me back to US. I know that you always know what to do or say. You somehow know when I need the soft, gentle, coaxing and whispers. You know when I need to be loved. You know when and how to kiss my tears and accept them but also how to whisper them away.

You amaze me.

I am so sorry that I have been so untouchable lately. I am so sorry that I push you away every time you get close. I am sorry I ignore your kisses and touches. I want them. I want you.

I want US.

I know that there are parts of my life that are shit right now. But this, here, is for US. And everyone deserves an US. Even me. Even when my it feels like everything around me is crumbling, I still deserve to feel love. To feel your love.

Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for believing in US. Make me remember US in the morning, please. I might not believe in me. But I believe in you.

Goodnight my Moon. I missed you tonight. The moon was huge and about as bright and yellow as it could be and of course followed me everywhere reminding me of your love. I love you too.


I am trying to fight the demons…

I’m going to stay quiet. I think if I at least do that and avoid putting the demons that are running amok inside my head to actual words then they won’t really exist. I am trying to ignore them. I have been listening to music, watching movies, doing anything and everything really to keep myself busy and not thinking of you. Every hour that passes makes it harder to hold on to my ‘believe’. I hope you aren’t fucking with me because I don’t have the energy right now to make your life as miserable as I will if you are.

Where are you and what are you doing right now my Moon? Rawr…..