Being Normal

  i am trying so hard to allow things to be messy, to be unorganized, to be real. i want to let go and allow things to come to me like a dog comes to lay by your feet, but i feel in my life i have instilled such an addiction to control, such an addiction to imbalance, that i find myself feeling stagnant. i don’t want to have to cover everything i’ve ever wanted in claw marks and bruises. why can’t things just come and stay without me having to enforce the parts of myself i find most disgusting? there are moments where i find the way i am to be appalling. no matter what, i will always feel like i am a cage in search of a bird, keeping something else away from what could’ve been.

  i rob myself of the opportunity to experience things normally because i can’t handle the idea of something moving away from me. there will be moments where i feel as though i am healed, that there is nothing wrong with me, and for the past couple years i’ve only imagined all these concepts and heartaches. but they’re real. they’re so real, and they set me back so far. i get so fucking frustrated when shit from my past is still pestering me to this day. why can’t i just be left alone? why do the markings i received as a child still persist in my mind, my body, my heart? why do i have to remember the nights i lay awake on my twin-sized bed contemplating if i ever would have a place in this world, a place where i can call home? still to this day i feel like i’m wandering around trying to make sense of it all, and in the end i just want a family. i am obsessed with control, with setting things in my own life to be ordered and steady to ensure it won’t fall apart, but i can’t control people. i can’t control their thoughts or feelings, let alone their actions, but i still feel like i can try. why can’t you just stay in place and never move? why can’t you just answer to me and only me? it’s disgusting. 

  i hate thinking this way, and i wish i could drag my brain across the pavement to shave it down. i want to be recognized, i want to be chosen. i want to be loved. i want a home, i want a family, i want so many things, but no matter what, i can’t help but feel that my mind, my thoughts will soon stain anything meaningful. the cuts and open wounds from my past will slowly bleed over, turning the beautiful white sheets of new connections into a deep red, consuming and unforgiving, forcing a mark, forcing presence, forcing me.

Past 8PM

This silence closes my mouth and presses my heart. Why is it that I must always feel this way? Is it perhaps the way I am? The way I stand? The way I interact? Do I perhaps show too little, maybe too much? Should I grow some more, should I shave myself down? What is it? What is it I am to do? I am forever chained to myself, and that is what I must try to live with.

    Was it love?

Oh God, no. It wasn’t love. It was simply innocence. It’s the kind of curiosity you display as a child and reach over to. You want to feel it, taste it, smell it, see it, and so much more. That alone doesn’t mean this will become the only thing you explore, though.

    So then why are you so bent out of shape? If not what you just said, there will be more things to explore, to learn, to experience.

Well, it’s a simple ache, really. This yearning of mine, and it sits behind my ribs, breathing when I shouldn’t think about these things. In a weird way, this misery is what reminds me why I hardly let myself slip too far.

    How do you feel now?

I feel like someone is playing a cruel joke on me. The quicker I tap my fingers against my keyboard, the more the tension between my eyes swells up. I can feel my ears grow warm and my chest sink deep. It’s almost like I want to…

    Cry?

Yeah, cry.

    One last question. What is it that you wanted from this?

I wanted to fuck them, to be fucked. But then I got greedy, and before I knew it, all I wanted to do was learn. Learn the nooks and crannies of their mind. I wanted to sit and hear all the things that have been left unsaid for years. I wanted to be the shoulder you sought when you needed to cry. I wanted to slowly see the kind of person you are when you’re sad, when you’re upset, frustrated, happy, excited, serious, shocked, scared. I wanted it all.

It is not to say I necessarily “needed” anything from you. That’s not how I work. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. I just want things, and I wanted to know you. And maybe the more I think about this, it is you letting me know you. You’re letting me know that you are not as thoughtful as you say you are. You are not as focused as you claim to be. But if there is one thing you got right, it was how you truly have no idea what you want. And I hope that one day you can find yourself. But right now you don’t want to be, and that’s okay. I am not judging you. I am simply realizing we are worlds apart.

My care and attention run so deep you don’t even know. I crave the intellectual conversations we had. They made me feel so whole, so seen. To hear someone keep up. In that moment, your body became the least interesting thing about you. Your thoughts and words enticed me. I guess that’s my own fault, though. I got way too over my head.

I don’t know what to do now other than roll over and breathe slow. One day my depth will be touched. One day I will have the things I want in a way that makes sense for me and whoever else I am with.

I think I just miss my headphones. My sweet headphones. I hope to see you again soon. Please come back home to me. You’ve been gone too long. I am sorry for leaving you so far from me. I promise to never let go of you again.