The Perennial Garden

In his defence? I'm not sure why I would want to defend him, but... here we go:

He didn't see who he had, he was attracted to what he saw, but didn't understand enough to appreciate the entirety of what he was attracted to. The very heart of Me.

I have mean streak of vulnerability and truth that connects to some level of sensuality that just draws them in - some people are not evolved enough to see that this sexuality I exude comes from the truth that I long to feel.

The love, the essence of the journey I wear on my skin like perfume. They want to touch it, fuck it, love it, and experience it, but they are not always willing to be touched by it. 

They want to experience it from the shoulders up, they don't want me to infect their simple reality with any measure of depth. They just wanted a piece of the action.

And I was built to be an open book, sometimes hurt by the words, or lack thereof, that I allowed someone to write in the margins while they toured the badlands.

Words that, unfortunately, echo the actions of the man who was the first to use me and spit his selfishness and disregard on the spot in me that struggles to remain bright. Which, incidentally, is the very reason I seek the truth of connection to the level at which I do.

I am an adult woman who is experiencing, once again, being fucked by someone who, overall, doesn't give a shit about the flower he just picked and threw away.

I mean, at least press that shit like it was something you appreciated as once being alive. Right?

I gave him way too much credit. He's much too young to be thoughtful gardner.

If I Believed Me

It's just that I'm not usually this wrong about people and things. Which is to say, he must have feelings for me. I really want him to have feelings for me, ones that run at least a little deeper.

I'm just not usually this wrong.

Maybe there could have been something that still existed and maybe I ruined it by not being "strong enough" and being able to just turn it off. Maybe I came off needy in the end and anything he was attracted to waned.

Maybe.

But it just doesn't feel like that deep down.

The inner truth that feels strong in me is that there was something. Not nothing.

I go over past thought obsessions and attractions, ones I've gotten hung up-ish on. Did they not like me? Where they just not that into me? Or was it reciprocated?

None of those were ever physically actualized, but there was interest on both parts. Ugh, I don't know what would have become of J, he too was very young. I don't know that my interest would have lasted, but because he never got what he was looking for - that attraction will still exist.

To be fair, it wouldn't have gone anywhere. This felt like it would or could have lasted in the distant way I was hoping for. It seemed perfect. Not a relationship, but two people who cared enough about each other and took some solace and joy out of the time that was shared.

I should turn off the thoughts. I shouldn't revisit the fun in my mind, it's self inflicted frustration.

Maybe it would just be nice to know that he revisits them too, that he would like more of them as well.

Is this the way it will be now? Is this just the world of casual sex and I will be even easier to dismiss because I'm older?

That's a tough pill to swallow.

I Am No Longer his Number Three

I've found a new home, and once I accepted I freaked the fuck out. It's been a roller coaster of "this is going to be great" to "what the fuck am I doing?"

This morning, this moment, feels okay.

My friend, who was a part of what precipitated all this, is just that, a friend. A broken work friendship that is skewed and off balance and that I can't help but push for something a little more authentic between us. I've embarrassed myself by trying to talk to him about it - to release some of the pressure that I feel in all this unknowing.

I mean, all I asked was that he appreciate that what happened ended up having more significance in my life as a whole, and that, perhaps, as a friend, he could have a bit more empathy that I am way off kilter in this all. Perhaps he could be a little less of a friend from the shoulders up and perhaps have a little heart, too.

I guess I just wanted him to be a friend enough that he check in, that he cared where I was at. But, he's 27. He may even feel bad and some what responsible and so is really keeping me at arms length. Or, he's 27 and is thinking, "ugh, I just wanted to have a good time, I don't want to deal with your shit..."

Either way, I'm pretty alone in this all and that is, I suppose, as it should be.

Some moments I'm really okay with that. Other moments, I second guess my actions and decision to leave a secure and comfortable relationship - wherein I was stalled, muted, frozen.

My brain says, was I though? Or was I just bored?

Only hindsight will be able to answer those questions. Remembering back though, the two years we first split up, I didn't feel that way. I didn't feel like I had made the wrong decision. I don't recall feeling overly lonely and bored. I remember feeling awkward at first, but after that, it just seemed peaceful.

I slept better and later, I was in my routine. I imagine the same thing will happen here.

I imagine and I hope.

I hope too that my friend will be okay with me. I hope that he talks to his brother and gets some insight as to how he might have some more grace and depth with me - his friend of which he has intimate knowledge.

He's young though, and my intuition tells me that he's shut himself off from parts of the world so as to avoid getting hurt, having lost his mother who he was very connected to, and now his father too.

It's that, or he really is Ted from Bridesmaids which would be a little bit more shocking...