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.

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.

A Whole Lot of Nothing

I feel like I should say something
But I don’t know what.

The world is in chaos. COVID-19 has killed over half a million. The “Black Lives Matter” movement has the country in an uproar. These (and less major current events) have brought out the selfish, the hateful, the bitter. Humanity is heartbreaking.

But there’s nothing I can say to make a difference in any of that.

It’s 2 am and my heart is racing. This has nothing to do with the events of society, however. Every year, when the weather warms, anxiety hits. I also get weak, dizzy, and nauseous if I do not have enough cool air blowing directly on me. I cannot eat much, because all but a few items leave me in pain and/or vomiting uncontrollably.

But I am dealing well with it.

I am stuck, unable to move to a place where I can have freedom, friends, a life. All projects I was previously working on, have halted. I have withdrawn from friends, preferring to isolate myself in order to prevent mood swings.
I am alone.

But I am okay.

So what is there to say?

I suppose my best-case scenario is that I will come out of this Summer understanding myself a little better. I feel this has already begun.
I have realized that Summer and all of the physical/emotional issues it brings have always caused me to latch onto something. Usually this is a person who has shown interest in me, someone I otherwise would not involve myself with. These relationships are never healthy, yet I stubbornly, desperately cling to them. For months, these people steal my money, my things, and my sense of self. Somehow, I am always shocked by these results.

But this year is different. This year, I’m holding onto me.

I’m not going anywhere new. I’m not doing anything great. But at least I can be a better me.

That’s something, right?

Soul

When the fire reaches your soul, it is time to pay attention.
When it lights a way, you must follow.
Logic doesn’t matter.
Details will be figured out along the way.
Go.

I’ve followed my head. I’ve followed my heart. But has anything ever been so clear to me as this path my soul is leading me down? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know when. I don’t know where. I don’t know how. But I sure as hell know why.

It feels right.

There is a peace that goes along with the uncertainty.
There is an excitement that goes with the impatience.

I am not doing this because someone gave me the idea. It wasn’t a random choice.
It was a feeling. I tried to ignore it. I had a plan set in motion. It was logical. It was easy.
But it grew. The closer I got to certain people and the further I got from others, the more it grew. The more right I felt. The more I knew this is what I’ve been waiting for.

There is so much I don’t know. I have no clue what my next step will be. I don’t know where I’ll end up. I have no idea how I will manage to make any of this work. Logically, it seems impossible. My brain says to try to push forward, but I know that is not the right move. I know that will only lead me somewhere else.

So I’ll wait.
And be me.
And see where this fire takes me.

It will burn some bridges, but that is alright. I don’t need to be moving backward anyway.

ONWARD AND UPWARD!

Your Life

How are you spending your life?

Are you tirelessly working toward a future? Are you relaxing, with the intention of getting your shit together later?
Are you angry? Stressed? Bitter? Are you apathetic? Are you happy?

There it is: If you are truly honest with yourself… Are you happy?

They tell you to live like there’s no tomorrow. They tell you to stop screwing around and plan for the future. They tell you to pay attention to current events. They tell you to worry about your life, nothing else. They tell you to be serious, to have fun, to be sensible, to follow your dreams, to rely on no one, to ask for help, to-

FUCK WHAT THEY SAY

Who are they to tell you shit? They’re not you. They haven’t live your life, felt your feelings, thought your thoughts. Fuck ’em all.

What’s Right For You?

My life needs something/someone stable, but I need to be spontaneous, adventurous, creative, a free spirit. I need to take risks, make memories. I need to follow my heart, my passion, wherever it may lead. I need to love with my whole heart.

Many people have told me that I need to settle down. They’ve told me I can’t give so much of myself. They’ve told me I need to stop taking risks, that I need to think things through.

Fuck ’em.

I tried to live that life. I tried to mute myself, to put down roots, to calm myself and make choices based on logic.

I was miserable.
I sank into depression so deep I thought I’d never find my way out.
I didn’t want to exist anymore.

HOW IS THAT BETTER FOR ME?

Fuck that.

So, am I happy now? I’m getting there.

I am still in the process of returning to the life I need. I can’t do that in my current location, so I’m playing the waiting game while others once again try to tell me how to live.
Everything’s up in the air, people’s motives are cloudy, and I feel I’m stumbling around, blind.

But it’s okay. I’m excited.

But I’m getting there.

…

Wherever you’re at in life, whatever you’re doing… Be happy.

It’s just not worth it, otherwise.

Can’t Sleep? Write. (+voice)

I’ve gotten very little sleep lately. I am averaging around 2-3 hours a night. For someone with Narcolepsy, this is highly abnormal.

Today I made a couple of voice recordings. It was the only way I could get things out, and I needed to. I’m told my voice doesn’t sound like this IRL and God, I hope it doesn’t.

I’m not going to listen first. I’m not going to talk myself out of it. I’m just going to let it be.

I have been working on a specific blog entry for about 2 weeks now. I know it won’t matter to most people, but it is something I felt I needed to do. I think it needs to be finished tonight, but it is not as important as whatever this is about to become.

I need to get my head straight.

I have said it many times and will say it many more: I AM emotion. I am. For this reason, I make a lot of… let’s say… impulsive decisions. I follow my heart, always, because I must be true to myself.

I had a plan for this upcoming move, but I don’t trust that plan anymore. And now everything is up in the air.
I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do. And I’m waiting for a sign. I’m worried I’m trying too hard to see it. I’m worried I’m not in a state of mind where I can see it. I’m worried about worrying.

Funny thing… I am not the only one in this situation right now. One person is in a somewhat similar situation, and another… he spoke my heart tonight. He bared his soul and it matched mine and I cried. Actual tears streamed down. And I want to somehow make him see that I understand perfectly, but he is not one who knows me. He does not know to trust me.

But maybe that’s how it is meant to be. Maybe all I can do is say “I get it” and it will mean nothing. Maybe this isn’t about that.

I have to be me. If I continue to be true to myself, things will work out the way they should.

And I have tears again, just thinking about this change I have felt the past few days. I don’t know completely what it is, but I know that it’s beautiful. I know I have to wait and let the next step come to me.

This is going to lead me somewhere, I feel it. I am ready to follow.

I am all in.

II, No C

How strange it is when we cannot see that which is right in front of us. Some would call it farsightedness, but it’s more of a mirage than a blur. Like those scenes in movies where a loved one is seen in the desert, only for a hug to result in stabs to the chest.

sigh

The good (bad?) news is, we cannot control this.

No, no you can’t. No, you are not finally seeing clearly. No, you really are not. You are just as blind as the rest of us, dude. You think you see something. Maybe it is there. Maybe it’s not. If other people have told you they see it, it may be there. Or they may be catering to you. If they say they do not see it, it may be because they have a better view, or they just may wish to antagonize. And you will never know for sure, because when you look too closely, it all becomes a cycle.

So,

FUCK IT.

If it’s out of our control, there is no reason to carry the burden. Let that shit go. Just work with what you see and do your thing. Just fucking do it.

No, not YOLO or any of that dumb shit. That’s just an excuse to be a douchebag. I’m talking the full-on cliché, the “mama said,” the chick flick material, the tear-producing musical number. That whole follow your heart thing. Yeah, do that.

FOLLOW YOUR FUCKING HEART.

And don’t try to give me that “I don’t have one” or “I don’t know what it wants” bullshit. It’s that thing you’re trying so desperately to analyze. It’s right there, right in front of your fucking face.

And maybe you are seeing it incorrectly and you will get those stabs to the chest, but you know what?

We all have to deal with pricks from time to time.

You’ll be just fine.