I’m Done.

I don’t think I can do it anymore.

When my heart is calling out, I can’t pretend I don’t care. When I’m excited, when I’m hopeful, I can’t keep it to myself. When I have a joke aching to be made, I can’t waste it. I can’t stay quiet when I have so much to say. I can’t force myself to be social when I want to be alone, and I can’t hold myself back from meeting someone new. I can’t dilute myself in order to make others more comfortable. I can’t hide anymore.

I can’t lie anymore – to myself or to anyone else. I can’t be in denial about the things I don’t want to face. I can’t lock myself away, just to hide from the truth. I can’t “play the game” or “follow the code” or whatever other bullshit people come up with to make everyone act the same.

I have to follow my heart. I have to be loyal to my soul.

My friends, you’re going to see me. Really see me. You’re going to see my ugly expressions and hear me sing terribly and feel love and care emanating from me. You’re going to see my creations and hear my random thoughts and feel awkward and weird, because I’m awkward and weird. I’m going to annoy you. I’m going to confuse you and sadden you and offend you. I’m going to make you laugh. I’m going to warm your heart. I may even inspire you once or twice. There will be times when you don’t trust me, but I’ll be telling the truth. There will be times when you’ll take me seriously, but I’ll be telling a joke. We’ll sort it out eventually, because that’s what you do when you care about each other. You work it out. You keep going.

So, from here on out, I won’t start anything that’s not true to who I am. I won’t just go through the motions. I won’t commit to something that’s not my dream. I will keep fighting for what I want, what I believe in, even if I have to fight alone.

Because contentment doesn’t exist for me. “Good enough” and “okay” are not words I can relate to. I don’t do “half-way” or “kinda” or “almost.” I will stay forever, growing and improving, as long as what I commit to is doing the same, but I will not get stuck in a rut anymore.

That’s not a way that I can live.

And it’s time to start living the way I was meant to, the way I never was fully able to experience. It’s time to embrace the fear, the excitement, the peace and the sorrow. It’s time to set my spirit free.

And that begins NOW.

I Miss You

I’ve been sleeping with your sweatshirt – the one from the merch store your bot linked me to after you were already gone – because it’s the closest I can get to being in your arms.

I miss you. Times are hard and it hurts and I feel alone and I miss you.

You, who loved me; without obligation, without judgement, without fail.
You, who I loved; without expectation, without dependence, without pain.

I miss you.

I miss you in selfish ways. I miss you with longing for the support you offered, crying out for your listening ear. I miss you for the warmth that came with every exclamation of my name. I miss feeling seen and heard and cared for and cheered on.

I miss being able to take you for granted. Stepping away, knowing you would always be there when I returned.

I miss the moments we never got to have.

You, who I teased, and sexualized, and begged for attention. You, who played along, knowing we were never to be. We made them feel awkward, we made them laugh, we made them mad, and we loved it all. We put on a great show, comfortable enough in our friendship to make it so. We loved and we were loved and I miss it all.

You’re gone and it’s not the same. Nothing’s the same. I’ve met friends you would love, and it hurts. I’ve done things I’m proud of, and it hurts. No matter what I do, the absence of you is an ache I can’t cure.

So I DM a Discord that will never come online.
I type paragraphs in a stream that will never go live.

I’ve never seen your face. I’ve never felt your touch. Still, I swear I feel you watching when life becomes too much. Now I’ll be moving to the place where you once were.
Alone.
Too late.

And I swear I hear you laughing, making a joke of it all. And I smile, but the tears continue to fall. And I make accidental rhymes as I pour out my heart, and think of the way you always added music to my words.

You always saw potential. Made me see it, too. It’s so hard to see without you.

I miss you.

The darkness that always brought me light.
The personification of “actions speak louder than words.”

I could write a book of it. Pages and pages about a man I’ve never met. Honest love letters to a man I was not in love with. A speech to the world, telling how they all lost an Angel that day (only you would appreciate that joke).

But instead, I’ll just publish this post, to say once again:
I love you, my friend.
And goddamn, how I miss you.

Sometimes People Leave.

What a difference a few days can make!

I read my last post and it is so far from what I feel now. The next morning, a few people came to me at once. Each of these people reminded me that I mean something to them in some way. It gave me exactly what I needed. It made me feel important. It showed me that I need to stay.

But sometimes people leave…

and that’s okay.

They may run. They may stomp. They may fade. Sometimes they are even taken.

But it’s okay.

It’s okay because they were there. Because, for one wonderful moment, your lives intertwined. They made their mark and you get to carry that piece of them with you.

And yeah, sometimes it hurts… but how beautiful is that?! That pain can only come from feeling a happiness so intensely. This person shone so brightly that it made you fear the dark. It’s incredible! It’s this magic that each of us has within us, that both unites us and shows how unique each of us are. It’s heaven.

So, don’t be afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Vulnerability isn’t weakness, it’s truth. It takes courage and strength to make your true self known. There will be people who do not approve, who choose to make their exit quickly, but that is fine. Their marks would only hurt you. Instead, you get to focus on the others.

They are the ones who love you.

They are the ones who stay.

Patterns

We all have our patterns. Some of these are comforting. Some give us structure. Some are harmful.

I have a habit of self-sabotage.

It all starts with an idea. Whatever the idea, I somehow think this will help me, give me the freedom and life that I need.

Then I start planning. I get psyched and dive right in. Then it overwhelms me and I start to drown in it. I go through these feelings a few times.

After a while, I get to a point where this can become a reality. Everything is in place and though it may not have gone smoothly, it has happened.

Then I fuck it up.

Sometimes right before the change, sometimes right after, I do something reckless to ruin it for myself. I tell myself that it’s the right thing, that it’s following my heart, when it’s really my way of failing on my own terms.

This conflict becomes a Hell that I struggle to turn into Heaven for far too long.

Finally, I’ve had enough. I let go of my demons and work to come up with an idea.

And it all starts again.

NO!

I’m not doing this again!

As much as I love the excitement of following my impulses, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t keep lying to myself and pretending that my actions are not motivated by fear. It’s time to stop holding myself back.

It’s time to believe in myself.

I have a plan. It’s coming together. Every day, I’m tested. Every day, temptation tries to pull me away from my goal. Every day, part of me wants to give in, change my plans, follow my impulses. This part tells me that it must be fate intervening. It takes coincidences and decorates them in attractive colors and shiny gimmicks. It takes a few words and writes them in the sky. It swirls petals around my feet, sings a song of thunder and lightning, blows gently against my lips, lights a blaze inside the hearth.

But I must resist. I must see these things for what they are; moments of beauty too pure to last. I must cherish them, but walk away before I see them spoil.

I must keep moving forward.

And I can. I can. I will. I will gather my strength and resist the urge to cling to these precious souvenirs of hope and love. I will keep my goal in mind, never allowing the distractions to become deceptions.

I will make it.

I just have to believe.

Delete Delete Delete

I am finally, after 34 years, at a point where I am truly myself. No masking, no diluting, no persona to take control. And I want to show that, I want to help people see the real me… but there’s only so much they want to see. It differs with every person and it can be difficult to find the line.

Open up
Delete delete
Spill my guts
Delete delete delete
Say hi
Delete

I don’t know how to interact with people.

But I’m lucky, you know? I’m lucky because I found a few whom I truly fit with. Who, even when they don’t completely understand me, accept me. Adore me, even.

I don’t have to delete anymore.

And I guess that’s really what I need to follow. Not the ones who make me feel like there’s something wrong with me. Not the ones who make me wonder what they think or feel. Not the ones who keep me at arm’s length. The ones who show me that if I were gone, my absence would be felt.

Those are my people.

Those are the ones I won’t leave. I’d walk through Hell with them, without even being asked.

For the rest, I’ll simply fade away.

Numb?

Ever since I was young, I had a switch that I could flip in case of emergency. This switch took emotion out of the situation. No matter how much worse things became, I didn’t feel it. I was detached, cold, numb. This allowed me to do whatever was needed, in order to survive. Those who knew me well, could tell I was not myself. I faked it well for those who did not.

At 16, this detached version of me received a name: Roxy Jones. Roxy was seen as mysterious, intriguing. She was daring, as she felt no fear. She also felt nothing for those who grew infatuated, so it was common to see a trail of heartbreak behind her.

While this emotionless state was definitely useful, it also had its consequences. Without heart involved, it was easy to dismiss others. This could include ignoring them for any length of time, bluntly expressing indifference, and/or cutting ties with no explanation. Any action that best suited the current needs was quickly taken, without regard for others or even my own future emotions.

She smiled, but there was no warmth. She fought with unmatched strength and determination. She had a goal and would attain it, no matter the cost.

It could also become extremely difficult to come back from. Though it was known what emotion should be felt at any given moment, it was not quite felt. Using music and other passions, there would be constant attempts to summon true emotion. Usually these methods would at least cause a wanting for emotion. Eventually, something would get through to me and I would slowly come back to Life.

She saw the world as it was; a list of necessities and rules for gaining them. In memories, feelings were seen only as insignificant details. She knew, however, that I was still within her; watching, readying myself for my return. It was her duty to protect me, but she knew I would never lie dormant for long. Even when she resisted, attempted to suppress me, a loved one would reach me and I would pull myself out.

The most recent time this switch was flipped, it was more desperately needed than ever, more control was given over, and it lasted longer. Without the support of another, I alone had to bring myself back to Life. The struggle was lengthy and felt impossible, but I refused to be defeated.

She reminded me that I was alone. She reminded me that the world was painful. She made me wonder if I could make it on my own. I met each of her negative reminders with one of beauty. The joy was enough motivation. The passion for Life was still within me.

A few days ago, the world began to bury me once again. This time, I decided, I would be prepared. I asked my dearest friend to contact me after some time, to help inspire my return. I informed others that I would be absent for a while, to limit contact and so prevent negative social consequences. Then, I stepped back, relinquished control.

Only… This feels different. I have distanced myself, but do not feel truly disconnected. I cannot detach. I still possess control. Emotions, though quieter, are still felt. Others’ are still considered.

She’s gone. She’s really gone. It’s all on me now.

From now on, I’ll have to fight for myself.

Silence

I’ve not had much to say as of late. I have mostly been searching through the silence. I had surrounded myself with noise for so long, so I’d not have to see what lies in front of me.

I am reducing the clutter, so I can see what is important. It is not easy… I have held on to these for so long, it is difficult to accept that none of this amounted to anything. I know, though, that it is all weighing me down. How much more will I give to something that is never to be?

It is time.

It is time to make room for something real.

It is time to embrace the silence, so I can welcome something meaningful.

And I wish for help, someone to hold me accountable. I wish for caring sternness, so I will not falter. I know that I cannot have this, not yet. I must find all within before I can find it without. This knowledge is accompanied by fear, guilt, and overwhelming self doubt. Even so, I will fight on.

I may fail. I will fail. That will not stop me. As long as I can find the silence, I still have hope.

One day, I will not be alone in the silence. On that day, I will finally win.

I’ll Never Tell You, But

I had a dream about you last night. In this dream, you loved me.

Our life wasn’t perfect. Even then, we never seemed to have enough time. But isn’t that how Love always feels?

We were together. That was all that really mattered in the moment. Being by your side, just being comfortable and joyful in your company… it was everything. And I trusted that you felt the same. I could feel it in your touch.

I knew that you had to leave soon. You had to do what you do, and I had to stay. I had to support you from afar, waiting until you would come back home to me. And I knew you would. I knew we were good, real. So, pushing back the preemptive longing for you, I focused on every sensation, breathing it all in, cherishing it.

As you got up to leave, I woke.

≈♥≈

Don’t get me wrong. I know we’re never going to be anything. Even if I wanted it, I know it wouldn’t happen. I know it wouldn’t work.

But it was wonderful to love you.

So thank you for being such a way that makes me comfortable imagining you in that light.

Thank you for allowing me to see a side of you that made it possible.

Thank you for giving me a night where I felt warm and loved. Thank you for that one night of home.

It was a beautiful feeling.