Blocked. Dry. Without thought or creativity. Just plain useless.
Right about now, I have nothing to write about. No wait, that’s a lie. I do have things to write about, I just have nothing in me to put those things into thoughts. And words. And paragraphs. Which would equal out to posts.
My head is very much all over the place this last week or so. I go from amazingly high, nothing can touch me, to desperately low. I feel incredible self loathing, and then literally a moment later, smiling and shaking my head at how silly I was acting.
I range from thinking I can DO something, anything to fix whatever is broken, to knowing that there is nothing I can do and feeling acceptance of that fact.
Time to move on.
Time to stand still.
Time to desperately cling to whatever I have available to hold on to.
Time to give it all up.
Time to let go.
But its just not that easy for me. I don’t quit. I don’t quit, but I can slowly lose control over situations and move past them. Let the cards lay wherever they were thrown and walk away from whatever mess I have created.
Thursday was a bad day. Throughout the day I was holding my breath, sitting on my hands, trying not to lose myself. There were moments when I was given calmness and for that I am thankful. But being told by a good friend that there is no way he would ever take advantage of the person I am, had we been together, was profound. Of course I know you feel that way. You’ve told me more than once. And know what? You are a good person, a great catch. However, your ex is totally bat shit crazy and I would never, ever think to get involved with you in any way. Saying that HE’S the fool for not knowing what a good thing he had. I know that, duh. I’ve been told that time and time again. Then explain to me WHY I am so anxious to see him. Tell me WHY I let myself feel so damn useless because he refused to see me.
Moving past all that, going through all the motions, having a good night where I am not thinking of him in the slightest. My mind is in other places, better places, happier places. Then all it takes is one phone call. Crash and fucking burn. “I miss you. I miss talking to you. I want to see you, be with you. But let me get your hopes up again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next time. We’ll see. I do love you.” It would be fucking hilarious.
Thing is, I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want all the pain, all the expectation. I want easy. I don’t want work. I want to be one of two people who just genuinely enjoy each other. And I want that to be enough for both of us. With him, it never will be. Expectations are set too high. Assumptions are clouding perfect vision. He just has no clue how to let it be.
Fuckitall. I need some direction. I need a light at the end of this endless fucking tunnel.
Gawd, I’m fucking tired. Guess I did have something to say after all.