Feelings and Other Nightmares

Just before you settle yourself with a nice glass of scotch, because, lets be honest, that’s the only way people can handle reading my posts, and get ready to ho-hum your way though another one of my amusingly depressing posts, I have to say: It’s about to get uncomfortable in here.

That’s right people, the girl who’s main thought on discussing ‘feelings’ hovers somewhere between squeamishly uncomfortable and downright eye-socket-tearingly awful, is about to do just that. Not tear eye sockets, talk about feelings. Well briefly note on the horrid idea that I do indeed have these stupid human emotions that mean I feel stuff. Unfortunately.

I suppose the want to extract my innards with a pickax when dealing with the public is technically a feeling. But you’re about to see what I mean. People, I’m about to mention my boyfriend.

Cringe, I know.

See me and my boyfriend fight. A lot, the reason is because we have ‘creative differences’ I have all these opinions of things and he is wrong.

Well that sums it up pretty much, but here is all you, and I, need to know about my boyfriend:

He loves me, and this sometimes squashes that ‘the world is an abysmal place filled with things that want me to take a rusty spork to my jugular’ feeling

Now that may not seem like the greatest achievement known to man, but in my books, he ain’t half bad.

Unlike my English skills witch are that half bad*

Now you may have gotten to this part of the post and are wondering ‘Yes, great thanks, but why bring this up you useless humanoid?’ – by the by i assume my readers are all not of the humanoid species and therefore have no concept of the ‘like’ and ‘follow’ buttons, so while I appreciate my human readers I do have to cater to a wider audience

So, to point, the reason for this post is because I got into a fight with my boyfriend, over not waiting to get into a fight. Hopeless isn’t it. And its not one of those cute fights like ‘you hang up first’ ‘no you’ ‘no you’. Which, by the way, we do not have. If ‘The Boyfriend’ ever tells me to hang up I’m gone, sometimes sooner much to his annoyance. So yeah. we’re fighting and I’m too proud (not to mention right) to text or call him and fix the situation, so I have to do this whole blog (even though he’ll never read it because I refuse to tell him my blog address) just to remind myself why I shouldn’t break up with him, and the worst part is he thinks this is just a fight that’ll blow over. He never guesses how close I come to leaving every time he does something that hurts me. Well that’s a melodramatically depressing ending, I think I feel a real blog post coming on.
*Yes. that is on purpose, even the ‘witch’ ok? I’m not that stupid.

PS Sorry for the long post!

Forever yours,

At least for the moment

x

Defenceless

There’s this strange kind if pain you get when you wake up alone, after having gone to sleep next to someone. See, there’s a wonderful venerability about willing to be unconscious with someone. You are completely open and in their hands, you are defenceless. And the act of sleeping with someone, and I don’t mean sex, I mean just sleeping on a cool night, the blankets laying on you in an artificial hug, with his hand softly resting on your chest, protecting you from the night world, that kind of sleeping, that act is so pure and trusting.

And when you wake up, and that person who promised to protect you with the unspoken gesture of resting their warm arm over your sleeping frame, that person is gone, it’s like a small portion of your heart has been sliced out, so it still works, it’s just a little thinner, less strong, more vulnerable to pain.
It’s the section of the heart that holds the irrational side of trust. Even if I knew you had to leave. I expect to wake up safe. But there is something much more lonesome about waking up alone after you fell asleep together. Whereas waking up alone after being alone is comfortable.
The unconscious mind can’t compute what’s happened, where the person is, the expectation is that they should be there. Warming you with their presence.

But they aren’t.

There’s such a finality in it. But more than that, there’s such loneliness. Emptiness and betrayal. Not from them, from your mind and your heart.

Your heart expected them to be there, and your mind is poking fun at the vulnerability of your now slightly weaker heart.