"Her Hand, it Fit Mine."

"Usually adult males who are unable to make emotional connections with the women they choose to be intimate with are frozen in time, unable to allow themselves to love for fear that the loved one will abandon them. If the first woman they passionately loved, the mother, was not true to her bond of love, then how can they trust that their partner will be true to love. Often in their adult relationships these men act out again and again to test their partner’s love. While the rejected adolescent boy imagines that he can no longer receive his mother’s love because he is not worthy, as a grown man he may act out in ways that are unworthy and yet demand of the woman in his life that she offer him unconditional love. This testing does not heal the wound of the past, it merely reenacts it, for ultimately the woman will become weary of being tested and end the relationship, thus reenacting the abandonment. This drama confirms for many men that they cannot put their trust in love. They decide that it is better to put their faith in being powerful, in being dominant." ― Bell Hooks

i have no words of my own that speak quite as loud as this.

The Softest of Sounds for the Heaviest Things and the Pain that it Brings.

he had such sad eyes; your sad eyes. and i thought back to the day i realized i broke your heart. did you ever recover? sometimes, i think that i haven't.
has anyone ever explained what it's like to be on the other side? has anyone considered this side of the story? the distress in your throat, the strain in your voice, as you utter words that you clearly don't want to? it feels like someone stepping on your windpipe and you gasp and sputter, prying at this great nothingness that's entrapping you. i wanted this just as much as you did, possibly more. i wanted you more than anything i'd ever encountered and for once it didn't scare me. it didn't chase me away, it made me content. it made me happy. even now that word sounds strange on my tongue.
i can place the day that i knew i'd lost you for good, i was at the movies and you called drunkenly slurring that you hated your job and i wasn't there for you. that you hated how i wasn't there and that i wasn't trying hard enough because i didn't love you. i tried to talk you down. tried to tell you that i was trying as best as i could between 4 jobs and a 3 1/2 hour commute to you. you told me it didn't matter, i could do better. that's when it hit me: i would never be enough.
so what you saw as breaking your heart, wasn't really that one-sided and cruel. you see, there had already been irreparable damage on my end.

All This Time I was Finding Myself and I Didn't Know I was Lost.

I'm writing you to get you off my mind.
I'm writing you to be fair to you;
because calling you tonight, like I want to, wouldn't be fair. because letting the words slur off my tongue in any sort of poetry would be a dagger through you. i won't give myself the chance to tell you how badly you're missed or how much you're loved... how you'll always be loved.
so i won't call and i won't text and i won't pretend not to know better.
i saw your face; those eyes. i knew what i was doing to you so i chose to save you. i couldn't rightfully make you fall in love with me. not because i don't love you, but because i couldn't love you.
so i'll sit here, on the other side of the broken heart, and tell you that this hurts too. this part of the story is also painful. i feel everything so vibrantly that it feels numb.

Now I'm Bound by the Life You Left Behind. Your Face it Haunts My Once Pleasant Dreams.

the truth was, i never really learned how to go about living without you. i didn't teach myself, the way i did with all the others, to let you go. i honestly don't think i even bothered trying. i didn't want to. i wanted to believe that you would come back in grand strides and sweep me up into your arms and that would be the end of it. no more sad songs, no more bad dreams.
i still see things that remind me of the stories you told and rush to find you. i still want to bury myself behind you when i cry or i'm afraid. i still want all the things you promised me, with you and only you.
so now i'm just haunted.

I'm Glad that You can Forgive, Only Hoping as Time Goes, You can Forget.

the number one reason why i don't have girl friends:
i don't understand them.

i don't understand why a girl can break up with a boy and date another boy and still hold claims to every ex she's ever had. to make matters worse, i don't understand the girls that stake claims on anyone they've ever had sex with. because let's be fair, if they're doing that, they've probably been with a lot of them. i don't understand hurt feelings and betrayal and everything else that goes with "no, he was mine!"

i am not the possessive type. and i'd like to say that it's because i'm just the most wonderful person in existence  but if we're being honest, i just don't care. part of me knows that if they weren't happy with me, they shouldn't stay and although my every wish is for them to be mine, they aren't. and maybe, just maybe, i wasn't right for them, but someone else just might be.

my exes have dated friends, best friends, close friends, girls i considered sisters. and you know the one main thing i've learned from that? that someone besides myself was better for them. because that someone really could make that silly boy, that always seemed to be in pain, smile. but why would anyone else be realistic and think that way?

people dont belong to people and that's something i stand firmly behind. i don't like possessive human beings, no matter the context.

Setting Fire to Our Insides for Fun.

i wanted him for who he wasn't.
i wanted him because he didn't make my heart flutter, and his words were simply a dime a dozen.
i wanted him for his smile and his eyes and the way he brushed the hair from his face because, to me, it was all unremarkable.
i wanted something that wouldn't send shivers up and down my spine.
i wanted someone whose words made me smirk and then dissipated just as quickly.
i wanted someone i wouldn't want to hold onto, so that when he left, i left.
i wanted him because i knew he couldn't make me cry because no matter what he did, 

he wasn't you. 

he would never have my heart and i knew that the second he said my name.

Baby, I Hate It.

today, i looked myself in the eye and asked "is this even worth it?"
should i keep holding my breath and wait for it all to drop? should i keep my mouth shut? because some good that seems to be doing.
eventually you have to realize that people don't talk to same way you do. they don't think, feel, cope, understand in the same depths. perhaps he meant well. and maybe he would return, somewhere farther down the line. but i couldn't hope forever, could i?
i couldn't keep convincing my body that it should wait for a promise that may never come. i needed to move on, to continue with life and know that for one single month i knew what happiness was. and that that was all about to end. i needed to inhale the pain sharply and know that exhaling may feel like daggers until i was myself again. alone again. disconnected from that part of the human experience.