I cannot quite know what you will see or find here. I have invited very few people to this blog that know me irl and I really feel a bit naked. I get support from 3 or so of my more talkative and witty bloggers but besides that I get a very warm pleased awareness that people enjoy what I say about these others in such a strong way. It is a crutch. Without it I tumble possible futures with these poor souls I don't have the refined patience to calmly set down and talk to about the way I feel.
This is therapy for me. But see I looked at you from the first moment as a beautiful creature. I saw a look in your eye that vanished quickly. I saw a side of you that went away once you saw deeper into my actions and took away your friend to a world where you could no longer touch her. I seized her and it must have looked very selfish and agressive. Brash and insensitive. I was caught up and I am ashamed of my action, though many things happened that I would not change I do count the end and my attachment as some very high levels of regret I cannot quite get over.
But you I could see held back a wall of grace and peace that somehow my brother wasn't quite getting to. I never felt like he had the right hold on you and I was sad that it was so easy for me to take her but that I could see from the start there was no way to get a grip on you. To really know that I had you.
That is intellect to me. That hesitation, the real knowledge of a strong hand that slips around the independant throat and brings it to its knees. Kindness and sweet words come pouring out and I wonder after a time if it is really me or if the monster within me intoxicates us both to sate itself...
Again more shame, but I am letting go of that, let that monster have his fun and fool me and the woman both. Let me ride the emotional mental rollercoaster of passion and betrayal. Let my life's imagination be consumed by my dreams and wants manifest before me in a great rapture
I balk at your cowardice. I know something is wrong and I remove it, I move forward. There is no fear when my insides are eating themselves over inactions I know I must take.
There is impatience in that. I would rather force an action that must be than wait for the right time. Imagine there is this long knife, longer than you can imagine and every moment you push it in an inch and twist. It heals as you go deeper but always hurts more. Every moment it gets worse and you somehow watch the knife go in, when at any time you have the power to remove the knife from his back and let him die in a more painless way. There will be blood and intensity for a moment, but that is far less cruel and a slow endless death being hung by a salted blade of unknown length for unknown days
All because you didn't have the heart to do what must be done.
Ah. The monster's words coming out of my mouth. My teeth grow longer, get sharper as I get more impatient. So expectant... But what else would I do? set and say nothing? I say these things here and you have the pleasure to see it but never before have I been thinking 'she will see this soon and what will she say?'
Well I can't say that it matters. It is here to help me relax and get it off my mind. There is nowhere else for me to put this. It has been beautiful with my girl these past hours and I think I spent too much of it thinking of you, mentioning you in little ways to myself... Seeing your face and speaking your words
It will only get better, and only get worse. I can ruin it forever or I can keep my hands under my rump and hope in time, it will be the right time.
If you put it in your mouth, all my tension melts away. I can't explain why this is true and I hate it. I hate that such an act shared between myself and another can be so powerful and life changing. That without that one thing I would be and believe so much less than I am in action and perception. It should not be so. To abstain and be pure should be more powerful. But maybe I have gone too far, spent too much time with my brain wired to the action itself, without the action those parts, those pathways in my brain lay dormant or half alive. Maybe deteriorating waiting to be remade?
Whatever it is it is biological conditioning and totally natural. There is no fighting it no matter how much I stomp my feet and scream that I am an angel doing gods work and I don't need that devil's play, that I don't need that carnal primal passion in my life consistant and impossibly beautiful.
I don't need it, it isn't everything
But without it I feel weak and small... Fuck
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