Just Another Rant

Soft Little Kisses

"When the wind traps you in a tunnel, you land on the debris and wonder, was I here before?"

I have so many questions, so much to say, but nowhere to put either of those things. It's a crushing weight on my shoulders. I don't feel understood by anyone anymore. I feel tossed aside most of the the time by my aquaintences which, probably is my doing knowing me.

I'm tired of watching my mouth, tired of fighting with the people I love over things that shouldn't be fought over so fiercely, tired of being talked to like I'm less than. I feel so utterly controlled, suffocated. I meant to be free in every sense of the word. Where is my world? Where is my freedom? Please lord stop binding me in chains. And if I must be in the hands of someone else for the rest of my life, whoever it may be, at least shut off my will. Take away my need for freedom so I can at least stop suffering.

I wish there was a way I could shield myself from humanity. Someone sees something they want, they take it down to its smallest state of being and lock down the one thing they truly want. I'm guilty of doing the same thing, but fortunately more than another person, I want that weightless feeling. The sensation in my chest that tells me, don't worry, you're finally alive.

Never in my life have I been free. Before I was eighteen, it was simply my age that bound me. Now, it's the people who are supposed to care about me. Their hands ever at my throat, the ebbing of invisible steel ringlets at my wrists, the sound of an acute static in my ears.

I whisper to myself that it'll be over at some point. That this will not last forever. But people keep getting in my way!! Everytime I feel confident in something, the problems come. The inevitable risk of being yourself.

Here and now I remember my last relationship, as it correlates to being myself. My most horrible self. The self I have decided to never ever let out again. I completely ripped into them every day, shredding their insides to the core. At night the fighting continued, which was mostly one-sided because I kept picking each scrap like I had something to prove. Like it would make me feel validated. Granted, I didn't want to be so mean.

I just let it all go, in the blood, the drugs, the hateful anger, everything I was losing at the time drove my mind into a hell I was focused on sharing with those closest to me. It just so happened to be someone who loved me the most at the time. Could I have stopped yelling? Could I have stopped calling them unspeakable names, accusing them of things they weren't doing? Probably not. I figured that if my own family was turning against me, that they were going to as well. So in my fractured mind, firey soul, I decided that I was going to protect myself under ANY circumstance. No matter who I wounded in the process. In that, there is no excuse for my actions during that time. I was... Completely me. Utterly myself.

I remember even further than that, the very last night I knew them. We were alright. No fighting, no malice. There was some semblance of peace in the air. I smoked my last bowl, I had this one last night with this person when I didn't even know it would be over. But the very next morning. There was only a cold reality of bright blue and white. The house I had known was merely a case of the colors as I numbly walked through it for what I hope isn't a final time.

I can only imagine the deep gash left on their soul. The tears that blazed their cheeks and burned whatever hope they had left for love. I don't want to be so full of myself that I could actually do that to somebody. Like, I'm not that important right? But, maybe I was, to them. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to say that I was sorry. Sometimes I felt that I would convulse with the word if I ever saw them again, get down on my hands and knees on the floor at their feet and sob for forgiveness. Because damn it, I cannot, will not, forgive myself.

I thought to myself every night for a long time that perhaps they were alright after all. That they'd find someone new or something like that because that's what I had to do. (Don't get me wrong. My boyfriend is not a replacement because I do love him. Let's not be confused.) But I've never actually talked about my last relationship because I've had nobody to speak of it with. I have no problem putting it out there because I know I'm not the only one who's been a monster. I've generally kept my mouth shut about that relationship, only speaking of it briefly with my boyfriend, because I didn't think that it would amount to anything or start a fight with those I care for.

But as I was saying. I think I took their heart with me. And as I knew their unique personality, I understood that they would be forever changed. They once told me that I took up a room with my voice, and that without it the very same room was empty. I bet that once I was gone, the room inside their chest was vacant. An abyss, something no longer functioning, but merely running on an old setting that came before me. Something safe. Like for example, complete numbness. I knew so much about them, and them me. I remember a detail here, a detail there. Their life, photos, the things in their house. Very vividly.

I don't know where they are, what they're doing, how they're feeling. But I do know that there has to be a driving force that keeps them healthy and very much alive. I hope their life isn't emptiness. That there was something that I could've left that wasn't disgusting, behind.

Me Myself and I.

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.

Yeah that's about what's going on right now. All the energy I've got. I was thinking about that out of the blue really. Sometimes it comes to me, sometimes it goes. And for me, talking about that is pretty therapeutic because despite the fact that I may never see them again and won't forgive myself for the nasty treatment... Gotta put my feelings somewhere so maybe someone else out there doesn't feel alone. Everyone can be a bitch guys, just saying. But try not to be okay? You never know when you'll regret it.