Feeling Alive

From my writing folder:

I am emotional. That’s true. I spent the last 8 years not feeling anything. I put myself away to appease someone else. For stupid reasons. None of which were for myself or love.

But now I’m free of that isolation. I am finding myself again. And I want to feel everything. I want to rage. I want to love. I want to feel joy. I want to feel the pain. Because I want feel human again.

I care too deeply. I cry easily. I lose my temper in spectacular ways. I laugh too loud. I am too bold.

I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid to feel everything. Instead of hiding from myself behind a wall, I opened a door. I want to feel alive. Like an individual person again.

I’ll continue to heal and I’ll be a better person when I’m finished. I will move forward and grow. I will live my life – have adventures, have heart break, and make memories. I will not grow stagnate. I will not regret anything.

I will not be afraid of my own humanity.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Your Pain is My Salve

#AmWriting

“You’re right, sir. I am complicit in my own torment. You were my addiction and I allowed you to crush me and to change me. You most definitely did me a favor when you discarded me so unceremoniously.

But I do not care for you, sir. That is not why I entertain you and stroke your over-sized ego. I was a good person when we met. But that person is gone now. I do not care for you. Instead I loathe you. I despise your existence. I hate everything about you. And I have been aching for revenge.

I couldn’t participate in your downfall, my good man. That would ruin my own facade. My own act as a good person. I don’t want to outwardly appear to wish you ill. How would I look if I did that? What kind of person would I be if I wallowed in the shit with you? I broke free of you and moved on. Let the gods handle you. You are their monster.

Except you weren’t content with that. And came back to remind me of the pain you created. You reminded me how much I never mattered to you at all. It made me question myself more. What happened here? You were happy and living a good life after you left me in tatters. What was the point except to poke and prod and hurt?

I do not care about you, sir, except to see you suffer. I cursed the gods for the unfairness of it all. How dare you do this to me and walk away without a scratch? How unfair is the universe that you get away with the torment you cause everyone in your life? That wasn’t good enough for me. And still I could not facilitate the punishment you so richly deserved.

You are right, sir. I do bear half the blame. I saw through you but I persisted. That is my own pathology and one that is very painful for me. In the capacity that I can love (I cannot!) I loved you. And you hated me for that. You hated me so much that you formulated the perfect torture for me and carried it out. Yet you never realized that I am your complement,  sir. I hate you just as much as I hate myself.

We have come full circle. You are at the exact place you were when our lives collided. I was not meant to love you, sir. I was meant to learn from the suffering I endured at your hands. And I have finally. And so our journey together ends where it began – me moving on from another life and you flat on your face.

I see you suffering now and I am satisfied. This is a torment you’ve brought on yourself. My hands are clean. I did not cause this. In fact, I pathologically tried to save you – my reward for which was the punishment you so enjoyed. This has nothing to do with me or my feelings or anything else that you may lay at my feet. You are solely responsible for your own demise.

But I’m happy that I was able to see how far you’ve fallen. When you tell me about your current struggles you are hoping that I’ll feel bad for you and want to rescue you. You want me to drown you in adoration and words of love and promises that if you need anything I’M HERE. You still have not seen the very truth of me through all of your machinations. You can’t imagine why I’m suddenly so fucking cruel.

Let me answer that. Your suffering is delicious to me. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. It’s what I’ve been hoping for. I am glad of it, my dear. It’s a salve to all the wounds you have inflicted upon me. Your suffering is your own doing, of course, but I relish every damned minute of it. That makes me a horrible person. I’ll work on that later. I am your mirror image, sir, (do you even know what that means?) so your pain is nothing to me. Except the revenge I’ve been craving.

But now I can move past – and above – you.”

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.