accidental flares of love burst through the atmosphere

The mistakes that I've made

I fucked up. Really bad.

I pushed someone that I love very far away. I was inconsiderate. I was hurtful. It wasn't all me, but a lot of the bottom-line issues were my own.

I don't know why I have such a hard time identifying with people. I just don't get it. I notice myself having a big, open heart for inanimate objects and animals and fictional fucking characters, but when it comes to returning love to the people that love me, I always struggle. I take love for granted and I treat people like they're disposable, even though I don't mean to do it.

I told BV on Thursday night (the first time that we've seen each other in months, because I'm an asshole that went on a 2 month long bender and ignored the breakup almost entirely) that I'm not wired to give out love as easily as he is. I wish that I was, but I just wasn't born that way. I'm envious of his ability to love other people so openly. All he ever wanted from me was for me to be able to match the amount of care that he showed me, and I was rarely able to. He cares more than the average person, and I care less. Those qualities don't mesh well. And now he's leaving on a month long road trip and then moving away shortly after he gets back, and I've spent my weekend feeling terrified of the day that he leaves. The second he walked into my apartment on Thursday I started to miss him.

I'm not with this person anymore. We gave it 3 years before the differences between us just became too large, looming over our heads. It made sense to end the relationship. It still makes sense that we ended the relationship. There is a difference between missing someone and wanting to be with someone (thanks Ian), and I know I just miss him. But have you ever loved another person so much that you're never really sure WHAT the fuck you feel?

I had a conversation with a coworker a while ago - he hung up the phone after a quick conversation with his girlfriend and said, "That girl loves me so much." I said, "I know that feeling. I ran screaming from that feeling." He said, "That'll change. When you get older you get tired of running." And in my head, a little red light turned on and I thought YIKES. Am I just doing this/feeling this/being like this because I (wrongly) think that I have all the time in the world? Am I going to reach a point where I'm just tired of running and would really appreciate someone loving me so much that it's too much? Because...when THAT day comes, I'm going to feel even worse than I feel today. Shit.

This is why I'm so hard on myself when I mess up even the smallest things, and it's also why I'm hesitant to put myself in new situations where I know I might mess something up or appear less than perfect. Because the way I feel when I do is the loneliest, saddest feeling. I am such a dick sometimes that I really deserve to feel bad, so I scold myself if no one else does it first. I know that no one cares about my life as much as I do, and very few people pay attention to my fuckups, but let me assure you: I remember themm aalllllll.

It's scary becoming close to someone. It is the scariest thing I've ever felt. I'd like to think of myself as an open book, but I'm really only sharing the best parts with the rest of the world. The bad stuff never sees the light of day. It's impossible to hide those things when we're truly close to someone, and trying to never mess up is just exhausting. I am exhausted.

The Venice Canals, the morning coffee, the peace of mind

The same love, the doll parts, the something-is-missing