Unlearning

I no longer have an operational Microsoft program in which to write and edit before I put things here.

This has shown me what a horrible speller I am and I know I am rusty as fuck, can’t blame that on the lack of a program.
I am using this as a diary and nothing more. There is no eloquence here, I don’t remember how to do this and that’s okay. It will come back.

I had no idea where I was going with this when I sat down. Still not entirely sure. I woke up an hour earlier than usual today and decided to write.

That’s all life is, waking up and deciding.

There’s an article tickling the tip of my tongue, The Green Blanket, Old Ringtones and other Portals through Time. This isn’t it. I have notes somewhere and I am looking at the green blanket right now. Wrapped in a different one, fuck it is some fucking cold today. I am praying the bartender left the heat on at the bar. We have been half naked meat popsicles for 2 days now.

I just wrote the words “it will come back” and it set off a chain of thoughts. I am now listening to Hozier. This was my Hulk album. I remember driving on the 401 back from Toronto late at night and almost having to pull over hearing Take Me to Church. Went home and pre-ordered the album. Loved it. Still do. Google says it came out in 2013, time flies. That was the first year of my singleness. The year of Michaels and trip to Los Angeles.

It was a really good year. Started with an ice storm and ended with a Christmas alone in Narnia prepping for a court case that I ended up winning on my own, with a whole bunch of awesome in between. I miss Narnia and I miss being that isolated and alone. When the Lovely One took me out to the big house in the woods a while back I was hit with glorious nostalgia, standing naked in the window looking out at nothing but trees and snow.

Ya, I hear you. Can you hear me?

I’m howling too.

“Are you coming home for Christmas” the Last One asked.

“No honey, that isn’t home anymore.”

(and neither are you.)

I still haven’t found it exactly. but I like it here. Its been the best of times and the worst.

Whole lotta too little too late.

I eluded to the existence of 3 potentials in my last post. Potential is not the right word at all. Very little here is viable. Nothing grows and no one stays. There was a night a few weeks back wherein a lot of the men I have become friends with were all in the bar at the same time. My feet didn’t touch the ground for a full ten minutes, getting scooped up in bear hug after bear hug. I remembered why I came here and was hit with how much things have changed in a year. I left with the Lovely One.

I highlighted the word NEED in the lyrics that prompted this post. I swear, for 5 years I heard “how easy you are to leave”. Leave, need, home, hope. My brain is a funny thing. I am easy to leave, I think I am easy to need as well.

If we are telling the whole truth, I am just easy. If I like you I like you. I am not complicated. I enjoy being loving and kind. Not in a rush to change that, not sure I could if I tried at this point. Biker Body Pillow thinks I have been alone long enough to be dangerous. I am not changing for anyone.

The second non viable potential, let’s call him Nein and 3/4. Just an emphatic no and his track record for failed attempts to see me. Nope has been taken. He scratched at the door last night and I didn’t let him in.

So, of course today we had a full on conversation and he was sweet to me.

Honestly so sick of this shit. Just feels like a shitty game all the time. I know the rules, I have to pretend to not care, or actually get pushed to that point where seriously zero fucks are available and then they come back. It’s bullshit.

He leaves in a week and a 25% success rate is not worth shaving my legs for. Vibrator is charged and I have pornhub. I’m good thanks.

Vagina is protesting that last statement. Shut up sis. It’s all just broken promises and my head hurts from rationalizing shitty behavior.

The Lovely One seems to be on a 10-12 day cycle wherein he remembers I exist. i am expecting a text in the next 24 hours. Fuck he is pretty to look at. Porno mouth, porno grin. But there is a lot of cocaine on this island, Everyone is doing it or dealing it or both. Which makes that situation non viable as well.
Sucks, we made plans while he was away. We were supposed to have 5 weeks of cooking, snuggling and fucking. He saw my bedroom upon the internet and wanted to sleep in the gypsy nest, but he never came by.
He tried once.
A for effort I guess.
Vagina is also protesting that last statement. I’ll allow it.

What we allow is what will continue.

I saw an interview with Kristen Bell, she was talking about her husband and when they first started dating. He said something along the lines of “you can’t keep storming off every time we have a fight. I love you but I love myself more and I am not going to spend the rest of my life living like this.”

There it is.

Everything can be unlearned. I don’t want to spend my life like this.