'A Love Story: Part I'

After everything that's happened in the past 12 months you'd think I'd be ecstatic. To be sitting here, at an impasse, alone at a kitchen table. To have my mind flooded with thoughts of a boy that is not one [insert ex's name]. But no. With every new happiness comes a new tragedy, a new frown and wrinkle. 

Let's take a look.  

July 2011: First semester exams are over, I'm on school holidays, assignments completed, tests studied for and I'm spending hours on end with the boy I want to spend the rest of my life with. Best friend ever present, my biggest worry is my next test at school. Drama, I think not. 

I'd call that 'Happy Teenager'. Better yet, 'Delusional Teenager'.

Try November. WACE exams completed yesterday, possibly the best feeling a year 12 experiences. It's Friday night and I'm letting my hair down and getting my party on with my closest friends. Wait, now it's Saturday morning and I'm getting dumped and I'm saying goodbye to solid food for the next 10 days because I'm sick with self blame and confusion. Here's the denial, because the boy I loved couldn't possibly be anything but perfect..

I'd like to call that chapter 'Reality Check,' beginning from the moment I find out my boyfriend of 3 years is a cheat. Fuck you virginity stripper, fuck you with a capital F. I think it's safe to say I reached my next stage of grief [anger] quite quickly after receiving that piece of information. 

Then comes the bargaining. Hell. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, but I think it's sufficed to say I exchanged my sober, emotional interpretation of 'love' for a drunk, physical version. 

It's been an enjoyable 6 months to say the least.

Acceptance. The last couple of months out did my expectations by a solid mile. It's easy to move on when the guy you loved doesn't exist anymore. When you realize you couldn't hold a 10 minute conversation with the boy you used to stay up all night with. Imagine. Imagine if you stayed with that boy another 6 months, another year, and only then woke up and realized he was all sorts of wrong and that time was wasted. Wasted. Bad word choice. 

I spent 3 years of my life getting to know you and tasting love. 3 years laughing and smiling and crying and fucking and, yeah, we had some shit times, but it was never a waste. Never a complete regret. 

Right here, right now, I can look back on the time I spent with you and know that for the most part, I was happy. That's what makes everything okay. 

You reach a point where hatred seems pathetic, anger stupid, regret pointless. A time where reflection on your relationship is positive despite the ugly and the confidence battle that followed. 

You are amazing, did what was right for you, will always represent a special time in my life, will always have a friend in me, will hopefully always be happy.

Go back 4 months and I'll give you seven billion dollars if you can choke those honest words out of me on my death bed. 

And so who would of thought that the whole time I've been sitting here writing and wondering, there's been a different name on the tip of my tongue. Another boy I'd like to write a story about. I'll warn you now, this story is just beginning. It'll be a lot shorter and a lot more graphic. Give me 6 months. I'll sit back at this dining room table and tell you about a man named [insert name]. 

Wish me luck. Here we go again. 


19.7.12 ~ The Tainted

'Vent'

I feel like I'm trying too hard and I feel like I can't relax. Like everything I wanted is falling into place but none of it feels perfect, right. None of it feels secure. 

What are we doing? 

What do I hold on to? 

I'm so used to everything being chronological. This back to front and side ways method confuses the hell out of me. 

The worst part is not knowing what you're thinking. Not knowing how you feel. If you feel anything. If I'm reading into things too far. If I'm hoping for the best when I should be expecting the worst. 

Again. 

To be crushed like before, to have my confidence once again fall through. I don't think I could. I know I can't. 

Yet there's not a thing I can do about it. And I know you won't, Mister I Have No Confidence. You do you know, I think you'd surprise yourself. I think you sucked all mine straight out of me. Devoured every bit of self esteem with your kiss, dissolved every ounce of ability with your touch. 

I'm useless, 
             powerless to say no but petrified to say yes. Paranoid. In every way. 

Yet I go back. 

Again and again I return and every day I tell you more. Never what I really want to say. Never what I want. 

Expectations and reputations. 

And I'm left with you and the unquestionable. Typical. 

The hardest part is that I want more. 

The worst part is that you might too. 


18.7.12 ~ The Tainted

'Untitled'

So I found a new one. 
A new boy, a new man. 
Different to everything else, 
Exactly the same as any other. 
Not even mine, though I feel comfortable. 
Feel as though I should be loyal. 
               Dare I tell him this? 
               Dare I whisper the words? 

I found a new fun. 
A new way, this time more casual. 
Different order to ever before, 
Exactly the same method. 
Not even a double digit, though I feel unworthy. 
Feel a need to impress the unimpressed. 
               Dare I tell him this secret? 
               Dare I whisper the words? 

I found a new age. 
A new time, this time more free. 
Different place to every past. 
Exactly the same manner. Habits. 
Not even without company, I feel alone, out of depth. 
Feel as though a disturbance wouldn't matter. 
               Dare I tell him the truth? 
               Dare I whisper the words? 

So then I found a new lie. 
A new fear, this time the truth. 
Different for me. 
Exactly the same for them. 
Not even wrong, I feel mistaken. 
Feel as though my actions are incorrect. 
               Dare I tell them the truth? 
               Dare I whisper the words? 

I'm having fun. 
But he's too old. 
They won't understand, 
                And the answer is no.
                        Full stop. 


17.7.12 ~ The Tainted