Fear is not the end of this

I still don't want to walk away. There are plenty of signs that I should, and plenty of signs that i shouldn't-- so I'm not going to... yet. It's definitely more difficult to walk away this second time around. I imagined greatness, but reality has far exceeded my silly fantasies. So what am I supposed to do?

This is real. It was getting comfortable, which is good sign for relationships in general, but not for this one. Comfort means that if we get any closer, we're both open to getting hurt. It's scary. Looking back, I've wondered at which point I should've put my guard up to avoid feeling this for him. I think it was impossible upon first meeting him. It was all so magnetic. As much as I've denied it-- that's what happened. It could be over at this point, but I think I've kept my mouth shut long enough to penetrate his soul without him knowing. I wish he would stop trying to fight it. It is useless to resist it.

I'm not a good girl. I'm not the best girl either-- no matter how many times my mom says it. There's better for him out there as there's better for me. I want him the most. I want to be better for him. I've always struggled with monogamy, but I think I have a better idea of it now. Monogamy has always felt like something I was forced to do because it was going to hurt my partner if I cheated. I always felt like a prisoner. I may be more mature now, or more secure with myself... whatever the case, I think I get it now. All of these other men are distractions from me, and I would be relieved to ditch them all if he would just give in.... I think. I wish I could tell him.

I hate relationships where the connection is right but the time is off. He's not ready for a serious relationship...blah blah blah dumb dumb dumb. Maybe I'm not either, but I always believe there is not a perfect time for anything, but now is the best time for everything. Now, dammit. I'm sick of waiting for you.

I'm sick of growing closer to you only to feel you pull away each time I leave. You're so fucking sweet when it's too early in the morning to keep your defenses up. Or is it guilt? You're nice to me because you feel guilty for feeling nothing for me? I don't know. I may never know because you won't let me in, and I'm too afraid to ask you to. I hate that walk from your bed to my car when I have to distinguish feelings for you. I hate feeling used. I wish you would give in so that I can give in too. Why do you tell me not to leave in the morning? What's the point of even trying if this "probably isn't going to go anywhere," as you say. Do we need this as a filler just to get us from point A to point B? It feels like that most days for me. Other days, it just feels so wasteful to be investing in something that "probably isn't going to go anywhere." If you really are "incapable of loving me" as you say-- why even bother with any of it? Is that true or do you just talk shit out of fear? I'm sick of trying to get over someone.

I'm not going to leave you. I'm not done yet.

I know with time, if I don't try at this, he will become a foggy memory, and I'll laugh at how attached I am right now. That's the saddest part for me.

Live- I Alone

It's easier not to be wise
and measure these things by your brains
I sank into Eden with you
alone in the church by and by
I'll read to you here, save your eyes
you'll need them, your boat is at sea
your anchor is up, you've been swept away
and the greatest of teachers won't hesitate
to leave you there, by yourself, chained to fate

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
fear is not the end of this!

it's easier not to be great
and measure these things by your eyes
we long to be here by his resolve
alone in the church by and by
to cradle the baby in space
and leave you there by yourself chained to fate

oh, now, we took it back too far,
only love can save us now,
all these riddles that you burn
all come runnin' back to you,
all these rhythms that you hide
only love can save us now,
all these riddles that you burn yeah, yeah, yeah

It's you that I adore I'll always be your whore

Awhile ago I had this idea about love and relationships and I think what it comes down to (at least for me) is the choice between two types of lovers. In my life, I've encountered many different types of men, but they can all fall into one of these two categories.

Type 1 lover. This is the lover I've loved mostly because he treated me well. This is your typical "nice guy." He buys flowers for no reason at all. He opens doors and pulls out chairs. Type 1 lover is the puppies and kittens lover. In my experience, Type 1 lover is the guy I'm not overwhelmingly attracted to, but I have a relationship with because it seems stupid to pass up an opportunity to be with someone who is good to me. "Why do you always date bad boys? Find a NICE GUY and settle down," my mother always suggests. Type 1 lover is there for you when Type 2 lover upsets you.

Throughout my life, people have told me things like "don't you want to be with someone who treats you well? You deserve to be with someone who treats you well..." BLAH BLAH BLAH. I've thought about this mucho for the past few months, and I've made my decision.

Now let's discuss Type 2 lover. This is the lover I probably shouldn't love, but I can't seem to keep my mind or hands off of him. He drives me mad-- and I simply wouldn't want it any other way. This is the lover who people tell me I should run away from, but I refuse to. This is the type of lover who makes me anxious and angry and I may even hate him occasionally. Type 2 lover is the guy who is unpredictable. He sometimes opens doors for me. He's sometimes considerate, and other times a total selfish bastard. He may have a drinking problem, and a slew of emotional problems but he's the absolute dominance in the world that brings me satisfyingly to my knees. He's the kind of guy who makes me want to rip out my own eyeballs just to offer him 2 more holes to fuck me in.

Type 1 lover is the one who does everything he's supposed to. He follows the road and swerves occasionally, but never veers off the road. I find it trite. He goes to bed early and I want to stay up all night. I want to go to bars and dance on tables and break bottles and laugh. I want to do things I'm not supposed to, and I don't want some fucking guy lecturing me on the consequences of my reckless behavior. I want my friends to lecture me on my reckless behavior, but not my boyfriend.. does that make sense? Probably not, but that's what I want. Get up on this table and dance with me, or at least watch-- don't cautiously wait below spotting me in case I fall or telling me I need to get off the table because I'm going to hurt myself.

If you're a Type 1 lover, please do not be offended. You are a wonderful man, and I'm certain the world is a better place because of you-- I just don't want you to be my boyfriend. Don't worry-- there are plenty of women looking for a man like you, and you're better off with a nice girl than a woman like me.

Call me crazy... call me fucked up... but I want to be with the type 2 lover. I've never thought to myself: "gee I wish I could find a guy who's going to drive me crazy and treat me like shit." I've always wanted to be with a man who treats me well. My ideal lover is the Type 2 lover who, despite his emotional problems, can treat me well. Type 1 lover is the safest bet in town. Type 2 lover is the long road home. I love alternate routs-- even if I get lost along the way.

My relationships with the type 1 lover have not been relationships that I hold near and dear to my heart. Once those relationships ended, I was glad. I was happy to never see those guys again. I missed the friendships I had with them, and the attention, and the flowers-- but I'll never miss those guys. I'll never miss the emptiness I felt when I had sex with them.

My relationships with the type 2 lover have been difficult, but rewarding. I eventually had to end those relationships because those guys were way too fucked up, but I'll always treasure the happy moments we shared together. So today, I'm going with the type 2 lover, and I hope, with all of my heart, he will treat me well, and all the work we put into it will be worth it, and we will have a fruitful relationship together forever.

All Traces Disintegrate

Lying alone in my bed with everything to do and staring at the ceiling closing and opening my eyes unable to sleep any longer while my mind is set adrift on memory bliss of you. I toss and turn wanting to forget, but giving into the urge... again.

How warm and right his body felt against mine. I caressed his torso as my check pressed into his back as time passed by too quickly. Falling asleep as just my finger tips touched his stomach. Then rolling over to my other side with my back facing him while trying to get into a comfortable sleep. His hand reached for me and he pulled me closer against his body surprising me. You don't love me but you want me, don't you? I arched my back and strained my neck offering it to his lips.

It wasn't about love, and it wasn't about lust either: it was something different, and it's happened before and I don't know what it is yet. My thoughts raced as my fingers traced designs upon his stomach. "That tickles," he said. I removed my fingers and said"I'm sorry," then brought my fingertips to his stomach again. He moved my hand. "I don't like to be tickled," he said. "I don't like being tickled either... I won't do it again... I promise," I said. I rubbed his legs with mine, as I softly breathed against his back. I caressed his arms and as much of his body as I could cover with my hands. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I don't know..." was all I could reply.

Then I would lie on my back knowing I had things to do as the afternoon light shone through. I stared at the ceiling trying to figure out a plan. Should I leave or is my lover ready to go again? I wanted to sleep, but I aimed to please him so.

Audio clips and snippets of moments swirl around, but at a slower pace than once before. It's all finally fading and becoming less meaningful now. Concerned, he said, "you feel hot." To which I replied, "I'm burning with desire for you..." I'm saddened as I watch these things that once burned so brightly are swallowed into the ground and are absorbed back into the earth never to be found again. I sift through the sand for the lost jewels as I know it really doesn't matter. It will all mean nothing some day just as all of the other intimate moments I've shared with others mean nothing. Nothing ever becomes of those moments, so why should I give them any value? I tried to push it away and now I'm cradling the rigamortis-filled memories one last time before they're laid to rest. Ashes to ashes... dust to dust... my dear.

People who don't value you don't deserve to receive certain parts of you. "Mmm... mmm... " I hummed quietly as I slithered around on my back while I caressed the hair on the back of his head and directed his face between my shaking thighs. "Oh... God..." I breathed as I took his hand in mine and squeezed it. Then when it was his turn, he squeezed my hand the same way... and none of it really matters... does it?

I wanted to give it away one last time and I tried like hell but I couldn't. I can't fuck someone I want to make love to. And I'm mad because I wanted to make love to him and he wanted to fuck me and I wanted to let him.

You carelessly give away parts of your soul when you engage in activities like that-- all for that high. Some of the highest of highs are responsible for the lowest of lows. "Sell something to someone you love.. not someone that you don't.. even though..." I try to remember. I couldn't wait to get under you and now all I have is to get over you. You hate me? Well I hate you too because I'm so much better than this, and I think you are too.

Traces- Built To Spill

Daylight can never really hide what’s alive
I know it's hard sometimes
For you to tell where you end
And where the world begins

You do your best to avoid assimilation
Guess that's the best you can do

And all the parts of it that matter change
All traces disintegrate

At night
My mind gets on this
Train of thought
And can't get back off
And when you know
How few things there are worth knowing
I suppose anyone who tries could forget

Responding now
To trains that crash before you
Never thought crashing could happen to you

And all the parts of it that matter change
All traces disintegrate

Built To Spill Wherever You Go

I can't recall the entire conversation. I wish I did. My mom crept into my room one evening. "The phone is for you," she said quietly and seriously. I carefully took the phone in my hand and whispered "hello?" It was him. My first love. The boy who owned my entire heart for so long. The boy who I had never completely gotten over. I was so happy to hear from him. He talked to me like nothing bad had ever happened. He seemed like the boy I knew when I had first met him! I was 17 at this point.

He mentioned something about doing some thinking, and told me he was with that girl, Elena was her name, for a couple of years, and that he never really loved her like he loved me. He asked so charmingly, "do you still want to marry me?" My heart sunk. He knew how to get to me. Shocked, I think I told him "I don't know." He said, "I still love you and want to marry you." I said, "really?" He said, "of course," like it was set in stone. My hands were shaking... no... my ENTIRE BODY was shaking uncontrollably. My mind was blown. I wondered, should I seriously do this all over again? After it took so long for me to move on? Had I ever even moved on? Yes.. I thought... yes... this is my one and only true love. I acted cool and collected, and I told him to keep in touch.

"Murals make it right, how can that explain
Nobody can tell what the hell they're even saying
No one sees it's easier to change
No one sleeps and no one stays awake
No one complains"

I quickly made arrangements for my dad and I to travel to Las Vegas for an entire week. I have no clue what I told my dad, but I managed to convince him to take this trip. I carefully chose the absolute cutest dresses I could find for the occasion. It was the summer of 2000.

"And I'll find wherever you go
And I'll help with things you don't know
And I'll get you out of the show
And I'll find wherever you go"

I was nervous yet hopeful. He said he didn't believe that I was actually going out there. I called him the night before my flight, as I was carefully ironing all of my clothes, and he sounded weird again. I had a bad feeling about it all. "I hope you're not coming out here for me," he exclaimed. I tried to play it cool, and I told him I was NOT just going out there for him. WHAT THE FUCK? I was just going out there for him!!! Was this another one of his tricks? He always did this to me. I would finally accept that things were over, and he would call me out of the blue ready to do it again... better this time he always promised. Fucking liar... but I know I would regret it today if I didn't go.

I can't remember many details of this trip. What I remember most are the emotions I experienced, and that it was definitely a defining moment in my life. Out of the entire week I was in Las Vegas, I only spent one day with him.

"It's things you have to give and never come around
There's opportunity to tread instead of drown"

I wasn't supposed to drive the rental car, but my dad said I could AS LONG AS I DIDN'T WRECK IT. At that point, I had been in a couple of car accidents, had a handful of traffic violations and such, and my dad reminded me of my vehicular indescretions every chance he got. I promised him that I wouldn't wreck the rental car. The car was a small red 2000 Pontiac Sunfire.

I met up with my first love, and he acted like we were just old friends. I honestly didn't even feel in love with him anymore. I just felt obsessed with this unattainable goal. I was upset. I had picked up a smoking habit the summer before, and he nagged me about smoking and tried to throw away my cigs. We hung out at his apartment where I met his mom for the first time. She was really sweet and excited to meet, as she said "the girl who I've heard so much about for so long!"

It was all very uncomfortable, but I put the moves on him anyway. I figured I may as well have sex with my first love. After all we had been through, I HAD TO HAVE SEX WITH HIM at least. I made out with him. I threw myself at him. He was uninterested. He suggested that we hang out with some of his friends and get stoned. I agreed to. We hung out with his friends, he ignored me, and I was stoned out of my mind in an unfamiliar city. We did not have sex.

"Remarks will make the living settle down
They call them markets instead of towns
They like how it sounds"

He drove my rental car to his apartment. I asked if I could stay at his apartment with him, and he said "no" so sternly. I tried to talk him into it, but I was unable to. I drove back to my hotel stoned out of my mind.

The next day I called him and the line was busy. I tried to call him several times, and the line was still busy. He finally answered at one point, and he said he would call me back. I waited an hour, he didn't call, so I decided to drive around the city alone.

My mind kept wandering. Was this really happening? I felt so fooled... so cheated... so mad at myself... so confused... so mad at him. I was driving aimlessly down Tropicana Avenue in and out of consciousness when suddenly, a jeep made a wild turn in front of me, and slowly, I felt my face being sucked into the steering wheel. My first thought was, I'm going to die!

I wasn't wearing a seat belt. Everyone had nagged me to wear it. I always wore a seat belt when I had first started driving, but I had lost hope for any kind of happiness in my life, and I honestly didn't care if I died in a car accident, so I just stopped wearing a seat belt. I was fearless. I welcomed death. I wanted to be put out of my misery. My life had been endlessly disappointing, and it was really inconvenient for me to awake alive each morning.

I grabbed the steering wheel, and I tried to hold my head away, but my face slammed into the steering wheel anyway. The airbag sprung from the center of the steering wheel and whipped my head back. I thought it had broken my nose. when the car had stopped, I touched my face for blood, and there wasn't any. I just had scratches up and down my arms. I thought, MY DAD IS GOING TO BE PISSED! I looked out of the window at the jeep I had hit, and I dashed out of the rental car as quickly as I could to see if the person driving the jeep was ok.

The driver was sitting inside of the jeep with his head tilted back with blood streaming down the side of his face. "I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry!" I screamed, always assuming everything is my fault. The Las Vegas police arrived at the scene, and I explained to them that it was all my fault and I was sorry. The police were so nice to me. They asked if I was ok, and I said yes, and they asked me to explain to them what happened. IT WASN'T MY FAULT!

The police asked to see the rental car information. Oh shit, I thought, I'm not even supposed to be driving the fucking rental car! I knew I was about to get busted. I showed them the information WITHOUT mentioning that my name wasn't listed on it. They took a brief look at it, called the rental car company, and told me that they would pick up the car because the car was totaled, and I could just get another rental car- just like that. "Can someone pick you up?" one of the police officers asked. I was so happy that it wasn't my fault, and I wanted to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible, so I lied and said yes. I thanked them for all of their help, and I wandered down the street to call my first love and tell him what happened.

I was so excited to tell him about the accident. I thought it would bring us closer together. I told him about the accident and... he laughed at me. "What should I do?" I asked. Obviously annoyed he said, "I don't know, get a cab back to your hotel, I have to go... bye." I was so upset. I didn't even KNOW how to get a fucking cab! I walked for a little while, then I came up with the brilliant idea to hitch-hike back to my hotel.

I bravely stuck out my thumb, and I got in the first car that stopped. In the car was a middle aged Mexican man. "Where do you need to go?" He asked. I explained to him that I was in a car accident and needed to get back to my hotel. He lectured me on the way to my hotel about the dangers of hitch-hiking, and I pretended to agree but I mostly ignored him. It wasn't the first time I had gotten into the car with a stranger, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last time I got in the car with a stranger.

What a fucking vacation. I was scared as hell as I walked to my hotel room to tell my dad the good news. I waited patiently. He finally walked through the door, and I quickly cut to the chase. "I have to tell you something," I said. He was abnormally excited, and he said something like, "oh yeah? what's up?" I said, unable to look him in the eye, "I wrecked the rental car... but it wasn't my fault." He laughed and quickly said, "I don't care, I just won over 2 thousand dollars baby!" I said, "wow that's great! I'm so soooo sorry dad!" He said, "it's ok.. I'll go get another rental car," and he left.

I stayed in that evening. I watched some movies, and I decided to help myself to a bottle of Strawberry White Zinfandel. I got drunk and passed out. I kept trying to call my first love, but he didn't answer. I spent the rest of the week crying, eating ice cream, swimming, and wandering the streets of Las Vegas heartbroken.

"Most of us are wrong, most of us agree
Must have been the wrong message we received"

My dad was upset that I was heartbroken, and he lectured me about falling for losers. My dad is endlessly wondering why I always fall for losers. I've explained to him time and time again that women tend to fall for men like their fathers, and if he had been a better husband to my mom, then I wouldn't keep falling for losers. He always listens for a second, I can see the guilt in his eyes, then he abruptly changes the subject only to bring it up again at another time (usually when I've had my heartbroken). It's always the same.

I called my first love one last time while I was at the airport in Las Vegas waiting for my plane to board back to Denver. "I'm at the airport... I'm going back home," I sadly said. He made some excuses about being really busy and sorry that he was only able to see me for one day. I told him it was ok. I didn't even feel the need to yell at him. I had grown accustomed to taking responsibility for everyone's mistakes. The feisty girl I used to be was long gone. I was exhausted. I had decided to be everyone's punching bag, and maybe, eventually, they would all run out of anger and they would love me. "I love you," I whispered into the phone. He didn't say anything. (At least that's how I remember it). I want to say that he told me he loved me one last time, and that was the end of it; but if memory serves, that was it. I said I love you, and he didn't say anything back, I hung up the phone, and that was the last time I ever talked to him.

"If you gotta choose I've gotta change

And if you've got the truth I've gotta trade
And if you've got a feud I've gotta fade
My heart will wear you out, yeah
My heart will wear you down, yeah
My heart will wear you down"

Digital Ghost

It's difficult to pin-point when it all started. If I had to guess, I would say... 12. At the "tender" age of 12. Ever since I can remember, perhaps at about 4 years old, I can recall having crushes on boys. I always wanted to have a boyfriend. I had my first boyfriend when I was 12.

I was always told that a boy had to ask a girl to be his girlfriend, but that always seemed ridiculous to me. I couldn't just wait around for a boy to ask me to be his girlfriend. So I met a boy I liked, and I asked him to be my boyfriend. I can't recall many of the details, but if memory serves, he told me he loved me right away, and I told him that I loved him too. I guess I may have loved him in a way. I do know that I did feel a great surge of emotions for him that was all very new for me. I remember waiting all day for him to call me the next day after meeting him. I recall that it was the same feeling that I still experience when waiting for a guy to call me. He was my first kiss, but it was just a peck, no tongue. I can't remember who broke up with who, but the courtship lasted roughly a month (much like most of my adult relationships). He was like training wheels for me, and I remember thinking having a boyfriend was so awesome, and I wanted to find another boyfriend as soon as possible.

I briefly dated my best friend's cousin who I had a major crush on for quite some time. He was a total player. I knew he was a player before I dated him, but I wanted him anyway. He was always talking to other girls on the phone, he acted so aloof, and never had any time for me. He was my first real kiss (tongue and all). He inevitably broke up with me because (I later found out) he was trying to get with this girl named Monique who I eventually became enemies with.

I retreated to the mall to find a replacement boyfriend. I met a guy who I didn't really like, and I blabbed to my best friend that all I wanted to do was get back together with the ex. It's all so silly and quite adorable now, looking back, but it's not so cute and funny thinking about how this pattern has repeated itself over and over for the past 14 years.

One lonely night, (still 12 years old), I was up late being a sweet suburban diva, watching music videos on Mtv, and dreaming about being in love... (the real adult kind of love) when I received a mysterious phone call from who seemed to be a stranger. Being the curious little minx that I've always been, I talked to him. He was so charming, and I kept asking him who he was, and he kept avoiding my question.

I can't recall how many times we talked before he revealed his identity, but I was already super-extra-infatuated with him. It turned out that he was my ex's best friend. Apparently I had met him before, but I didn't remember meeting him. He told me that he thought that I was beautiful, and he was glad when his friend broke up with me because he wanted to talk to me.

My best friend told me that she was interested in him. I was having so much fun getting to know him, and really connecting with someone for the first time in my life. I knew that I had to ask him to be my boyfriend before she could. I wasn't going to wait around for him to ask me out. She told me that she was going to hang out with him at the mall the upcoming weekend, so I knew I had to do it before then. I think I talked to him earlier that Saturday, and I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. I was slightly afraid of rejection, so I decided to ask him in the form of a hypothetical question to limit my chance of rejection. "Would you ever go out with me?," I shyly asked. He replied, "yes," to which I immediately replied, "ok... so will you?" He said "yes," and i think I said "cool." He told me that he was going to ask me out, but couldn't figure out how to do it, and he was glad that I did it. We chatted briefly about being happy, and I told him that I had to get off the phone. He said, "ok... I love you." I told him that I loved him too, I had a billion butterflies in my stomach, and we stayed in love for the next 5 years... maybe longer. Maybe you never stop loving your first love.

We were both so young, and didn't know what the fuck we were doing. It was a rocky courtship, but very romantic. That's when my commitment issues started. My mom always told me to keep my options open, and I did. I always talked to other boys, and told him about them. We both took turns hurting each other. He moved to Las Vegas only 4 months after we had started dating. We stayed up all night on the phone talking about everything, both crying about him having to move, and eventually falling asleep together on the phone nearly every night.

He asked me to marry him. We both agreed that we were so young and immature, so we should date other people until we turned 18, then we would try it again, and get married if everything was still good. 6 years seemed so far away. He told me all of the time that he wanted to marry me and wanted me to have his babies. We talked about what our wedding would be like, and how we would raise our children.

We tried to stay in touch when he moved to Las Vegas, but the phone bills from our late night long distance conversations amounted to too much ($400 sometimes), and he had to stop calling me so much. He sent me flowers for our 6 month anniversary. It was a HUGE and beautiful arrangement. I kept trying to get my parents to go to Las Vegas so that I could see him.

We only talked about once a month if that. He wrote me the most romantic letters that I still have today. We both met new people, tried new relationships, but they never really worked out, and we both kept dumping people so that we could be together again, then we would fight, and break up. It wasn't for 3 years, when I was 15, that I was able to see him again. I finally managed to get my parents to go on a vacation to Las Vegas.

Everything with us was all lovey-dovy romantic the month before I was to visit him. I bought all new clothes, and I was so worried that he didn't love me like he did before, or that I didn't love him the same. I worried that I would go all that way to Las Vegas, possibly lose my virginity to him, and he would hurt me.

I'm surprised that my parents went along with this courtship. I exclaimed to my mom that I loved him so, and that I wanted to marry him. She was against the relationship, but she said she just wanted me to be happy, so she allowed us to see each other.

I was so nervous to see him. I don't think I've ever been that nervous in my entire life. It's all blurry now, but I think his sister dropped him off at the hotel that I was staying at, he went with my parents and I out to dinner. After dinner, my parents wanted to gamble, so they left us in the rental car while they went inside a casino to gamble.

We talked, held hands, and made-out only coming up for air to see if my parents had come back. It was all sweet, but I had this nagging feeling that I was not the only girl in his life. He was not the only boy in my life. Always wanting to keep my options open, I made friends with a Palastinian boy online who lived in Las Vegas, who I had planned to see as well. I told him about this boy I was talking to. He was jealous, and told me not to see him, so I agreed to not see him. I was just using him to make my first love jealous anyway, so it wasn't a big deal that I wasn't going to see him.

We went swimming, drank smoothies, and fooled around in my hotel room while my parents were away. Some major element was missing. He kept trying to get me to take my clothes off, but I refused. He was mad. He was someone else. I felt deep sadness that this moment I had been fantasizing about for years was not as great as I had hoped it would be. This person who I had built up in my mind, and thought I had felt so much love for... who I thought I would eventually marry... was not the same person.

I was sad to leave Las Vegas. He had this fabulous life there, and I had to go back home where I was not nearly as cool as he was, and didn't have as much fun as he did. All I had was a handfull of online friends who I had never even met. I was so depressed, and for the first time in years, he didn't care. He was distant and unwilling to work on our relationship. I don't blame him. It was so painful for both of us to have a long distance relationship, and it wouldn't be for 3 more years that I could even think about moving out there.

When I had returned home, I called him, and I told him how much fun I had and how much I had missed him. He seemed uninterested. It was time for some investigation. He was mine, and I wasn't going to let him go. I made friends with some of his friends online, and one of his friends revealed to me that he had a girlfriend! At that instant, I knew that he had been going back and forth between the both of us while I had been there on vacation. That little player! But how could I complain? I was playing the same damn game, but NEVER with the intention of hurting him in any way.. just wanted to make him a bit jealous was all because I was an insecure girl, because I still am, because it hurts too much to be completely vulnerable to someone, because my mom always told me to keep my options open.

I called him and asked him immediately if he had a girlfriend. He said no, then I told him that I knew about her, that I had her phone number, and I was going to call her and ask her. He then told me that he started going out with a girl 2 days after I had left. I cried and yelled at him. He hung up on me. I called back repeatedly like a crazy person. His sister eventually answered the phone and yelled into the phone "stop calling here and leave him alone you fucking bitch!"

At that point, I knew that it was definitely over. Our on again off again love-filled 3 year relationship was completely over. I didn't know what to do, what to think about, how to live my life... where to begin without him always lingering in the back of my mind. My mom told me to leave him alone. I agreed to. I knew I had to finally let go... forever. I told my mom I would be ok, and I disappeared to my bathroom with a glass of water.

I spent all night in the bathroom vomitting and refilling my glass of water so I could vomit more all night long. It was all embarassingly dramatic, but that's what happened.

I wanted to get him back. I thought about him being with the new girl, sharing OUR love with her. Seeing her, touching her, kissing HER EVERY DAY AND NOT ME. I wanted to lose my virginity to him, but now, she would be the one losing her virginity to him. I slept a lot. I watched a lot of t.v. I kept waiting for him to call me again. I decided to pitch a tent in my backyard, and hang out there and think and try to get over him. I needed to be alone. I had just purchased the latest Radiohead cd, Ok Computer. I listened to that cd all night long in the tent, I cried, I stared at the stars, and tried so desperately to let go of this person who I held so near and dear to my heart for so long.

I had been talking to several guys online and trying to forge connections with them. None of it was the same as I had with my first love, but I tried anway... I had to. I talked to a guy who was 20. I was 15, but I told him I was 17. I was talking to him before I had gone to Las Vegas to visit my first love. I even secretly sent him postcards from Las Vegas. I didn't even realize it then, but looking back, I was such a major player.

That courtship was fun, and helped me get over the loss of my first love, but it only lasted a few months because I had to admit to him that I was only 15 years old. He wanted to continue to talk to me, but he explained that it was probably illegal, couldn't go anywhere, he felt like a pedophile, and we should stop talking. I told him I was deeply sorry, and I agreed that we should stop talking. I felt horrible, and decided that I should never lie to a guy again.

At that point, thoughts of my first love were becomming more and more blurry each day, and I was, of course, ready to meet someone new. I really wanted the same kind of love that I had with my first love. I still romantasized the idea of a reconcilliation, but I knew it wasn't going to happen. I managed to move on with my life, met new guys (never really loving any of them), still played the game while perfecting my moves with each new encounter, and I lost my virginity. Much to my surprise, my first love came back.

To be continued...

Digital Ghost- Tori Amos
It started as a joke
Just one of my larks to see
If somehow I could reach you so

I swam into your shores
Through an open window
Only to find you all alone

Curled up with machines
Now it seems you're slipping
Out of the land of the living

Just take a closer look
Take a closer look
At what it is that's really haunting you

I have to trust you'll know
This digital ghost
But I fear there's only so much time
'cause the you I knew is fading away

Hands lay them on my keys
Let me play you again
I am not immune to your net

Find me there in it
I won't go even if in
Your heart only beats ones and O's

Switch you on my friend
Pull you from that rip current
But only you can fight against this

Take a closer look
Just take a closer look
At what it is that's really haunting you

I have to trust you'll know
This digital ghost
But I fear there's only so much time
'cause the you I knew is fading away

Fading
Fading
Away

Semi-Charmed Life

Relationships are confusing, so why do we feel compelled to analyze them? No matter how long or short the relationship, we search our minds, and bother our friends for answers-- but there aren't ever any answers to satisfy our broken hearts.

I used to have more neurosis, motivation, and time to attempt to figure shit out, but now, I have to tell myself it wasn't meant to be, I'm thankful for the fun, and I have to move on AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE SO THAT I CAN GET MARRIED AND PREGNANT BEFORE MY EGGS DRY UP.

Perhaps I finally get it, and I should've been doing this all along. Maybe I'm so insensitive, bitter, and old that I can't bring myself to waste any more time romanticizing someone unworthy of my endless charm and insatiable sex drive and stop trying to find logic in something that didn't work out. It's over and that's that. I'm analyzing... again... obviously... but I can assure you, I'm doing it much quicker than I've been guilty of doing in the past.

Top 10 Break-up rituals (in no particular order):
1. Drink a bottle of wine
2. Take a bath (to cleanse myself of him)
3. Cry (only if necessary)
4. Pass out in the bathtub
5. Go for a run (to rid myself of the anger and frustration of another failed relationship)
6. Re-arrange my furniture (to change my perspective)
7. Schedule a hair-cut (I need to look hot to find another man)
8. Delete his number from my phone (including all text messages and delete the call log so I can avoid retriving his phone number when I inevitably miss him)
9. Delete him from all online social media circuits
10. Listen to break-up appropriate music

... once all the rituals have been completed (in roughly a week), I'm back on track and it's time to get back out there.

or not...

STOP BEING A HOPEFUL ROMANTIC AND TRYING TO FIND POSSIBILITY IN SITUATIONS THAT ARE HOPELESS!

Easier said than done.

Some men are easier to get over than others. I don't know if there's any rhyme or reason to it, but for whatever reason, some men really penetrate my soul. It doesn't matter how mean or nice they were, how long we associated with one another, or how attractive they were-- some just loiter in my head and heart and refuse to leave. It's all internal... it's chemistry... I think... and it doesn't make sense.

You pathetic little girl. You're a classic co-dependent. You're insecure. You must really hate yourself. Stop your bullshit and move on. You deserve better. You're beautiful. You're awesome.

Mistakes are always made in relationships. I always try to take responsibility for my actions and learn from them so that I can increase my chances of having a fruitful relationship some day.

I wasn't on top of my game. Even when I am on top of my game, things still may not work out. I want things to happen organically. I despise traditional dating rules. However, I know the more men I meet, the more my chances are increased of finding someone worthy of my undying love and affection.

BUT I'M EXHAUSTED. I want to settle down finally and I'm afraid that is going to come across as desperate. HOW MANY MORE TIMES DO I NEED TO DO THIS?

No more 10-hour-long-break-ups. If you want to have break-up sex, lets do it as soon as possible before the break-up sets into my head and my ego is bruised, my self-esteem is drained, and I hate you. No, we can't be friends. I wanted to have a relationship with you, and now you are useless to me, so just don't even ask. I can't be friends with you because I've been around the block enough times to know that only means you have the permission to call me when the bar closes and you haven't found someone to go home with, and you want to have sex with someone you know can give a good blow job. I know there is no hope of reconciliation in a booty-call. I know I'll awake feeling like a used whore the next day. So let's have hot sex one last time, exchange some pleasant parting comments such as "you're a talented person.. good luck with your endeavors... have a nice life... I had fun.. thanks," then fucking leave the premises and I don't want to fucking see or hear from you EVER again.

Well of course I WANT to see and hear from you. I wanted to hang out longer to see where things went. BUT it's best that we don't have any contact so that I can get over you. If we should cross paths, we shall acknowledge one another, have a 5 minute artificial conversation such as: "hey.. how's it going? yeah? good... well... have a nice day/night/Merry Christmas/whatever-the-fuck." Then, you should probably leave the place you are at where you ran into the person AS SOON AS POSSIBLE because you will inevitably become very self-conscious, and feel obligated to show the other person that your life is so awesome without them. Worst case scenario, you are tempted to START IT ALL OVER AGAIN AND GOD FORBID THAT FUCKING HAPPENS! So just get the fuck out of there. You're better off. I promise.

One of my biggest break-up pet peeves is when they ruin music for me. Music is a MAJOR part of my life, and I quite enjoy listening to music with my lovers. It's a requirement even. Music enhances the courtship. It's all lovely until you break up and one of those songs comes on somewhere, and all you can think about is how wonderful that moment was when you listened to that song together. I used to really love that song. It's one of my favorite songs. You made it better... then.. YOU FUCKING RUINED IT FOR ME. "...I want something else, to get me through this semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby, I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye..."

Third Eye Blind - Semi-Charmed Life
I'm packed and I'm holding
I'm smiling, she's living, she's golden
She lives for me, says she lives for me
Ovation, her own motivation
She comes round and she goes down on me
And I make her smile, like a drug for you
Do ever what you wanna do, coming over you
Keep on smiling, what we go through
One stop to the rhythm that divides you
And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse
Chop another line like a coda with a curse
Come on like a freak show takes the stage
We give them the games we play, she said...
I want something else, to get me through this
Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby
I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye
The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there, someplace back there
Smiling in the pictures you would take
Doing crystal myth, will lift you up until you break
It won't stop, I won't come down
I keep stock with the tick-tock rhythm, I bump for the drop
And then I bumped up, I took the hit that I was given
Then I bumped again, then I bumped again
I said...
How do I get back there, to the place where I fell asleep inside you
How do I get myself back to the place where you said...
I want something else, to get me through this
Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby
I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye
I believe in the sand beneath my toes
The beach gives a feeling, an earthy feeling
I believe in the faith that grows
And the four right chords can make me cry
When I'm with you I feel like I could die
And that would be all right, all right
And when the plane came in, she said she was crashing
The velvet it rips in the city, we tripped on the urge to feel alive
Now I'm struggling to survive, those days you were wearing that velvet dress
You're the priestess, I must confess
Those little red panties they pass the test
Slide up around the belly, face down on the mattress
One
And you hold me, and we're broken
Still it's all that I wanna do, just a little now
Feel myself, head made of the ground
I'm scared, I'm not coming down
No, no
And I won't run for my life
She's got her jaws now, locked down in a smile
But nothing is all right, all right
And I want something else, to get me through this life
Baby, I want something else
Not listening when you say...
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye
The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Someplace back there, in the place we used to start
I want something else

Bouncing Off Clouds

It's romantic... the way we share coffee and pastries. I expect it now. He always leaves the last bite for me. I love how sharing a pastry leads to sharing a bed. I love the morning after beauty mark exploration in the gentle Sunday sunlight. "I love this one on your lip...I never noticed it before, but now, I'll never forget it," he claims. I smile as though I believe him. It's inevitable... it always plays out and yet.. I still get nervous with each corner we turn.. wondering... if we'll ever make it home....

Courting men has been and most likely will always be my favorite pastime. It's something to live for, something to cry for, something to yearn and beg for. Love is the sun in which everything must revolve around, for some... for me. Definitely.

Maybe I was born this way, perhaps my dad didn't love me enough as a child- but either way--

I love men. All different kinds of them. I like when they're all sweaty and nervous. I like when they're in control as I slowly yet surely plant the seeds of love deep within them. Deny it if you will. Why fight it? I always wonder. Sure, the possibility of getting hurt. But wouldn't you hurt more wondering what could've been? Sneak a couple caramels in your pocket from the candy store, little boy, and slink away before you get caught! I would hurt. I would suffer a terminal pain I'm sure I could never recover from. I suck blood until there's no more left to suck. If love doesn't last, wouldn't you eventually be glad for the gulps you swallowed from the glass?

Fantasy is a major component, but it needs to be fulfilled. I want to play out the fantasy over and over before the actual event takes place. I love to convince myself it's absolutely impossible. I won't allow myself to believe it happened until the next morning. During the next day, I congradulate myself on accomplishing more than I had actually fantasized about.

I replay it all in my head. Instant replay style. What was good? What would I change? Always amazed at how easy it was. Sex is easy though. It's easy to plant the seeds of love. The hard part is having the patience to nurture the seeds as they slowly blossom into love. Do I care? Can't use too much water or too much sun. It needs to be a healthy combination of everything necessary to live then slowly, piece by piece, take it away. Whether the flower begs for more to blossom or whether it decides to die has little to do with me. I wish I had more control over that part, but I don't. I did my part. Blossom or die? Blossom or die? Blossom or die? What do YOU want to do, little boy?

I believe it needs to be overwhelming at first, even a little obnoxious, annoying, and obvious. Easy. It needs to definitely seem easy to them. When it's all over, there's nothing easy about it. It's easy for me. Even with all of the effort. It's like exercise. I've done it so many times. I can love a marathon.

You can listen if you want, or you can continue to plug your ears as I sing:

"Make it easy, easy, easy
We could make this easy,
easy love easy,
We could make this easy, make this easy
It’s not as heavy as it seems
Make this easy, make this easy
It’s not as heavy as it seems"

So you fancy a girl to sing, do you?

I can sing. I can sing a song and make you think that it's the first time I've ever done it without telling you- and I can pretend like it's no big deal when actually- I've done it several times before for many others just like you, and I'm growing quite bored of that song. Do you still like it as much? Now that you know? You probably like it more but won't admit it to yourself because what you thought was securely yours is public property and no one loves a hoe but now you need something you now know was never ever yours.

... and that's how it's done for the most part. I'm the sweet and vulnerable one-- prick, sting, suck, leave-- and onto the next.


Whenever I feel lonely, I think of all the men who are jerking off to the thought of me, and I welcome a peaceful sleep.