|
Previous - this entry written on May 20, 2002 at 2:59 pm - Next It Won't Rain All The Time by Jane Siberry and Graeme Revell... We walk the narrow path, Beneath the smoking skies. Sometimes you can barely tell the difference Between darkness and light. Do you have faith in what we believe? The truest test is when we cannot When we cannot see. I hear pounding feet in the, in the streets below, and the, and the women crying and the, and the children know that there, that there's something wrong, and it's hard to belive that love will prevail. Oh it won't rain all the time. The sky won't fall forever. And though the night seems long, your tears won't fall forever. This is a very odd day. I'm about to see if I can get a ride out to Beaverton. I'm going to meet up with Mikey, if I go out. He said that if I didn't feel up to going out there, tomorow he would try to make his way out here - it shouldn't mean so much, that little gesture, not with the weight of a hundred mistakes set against it. It shouldn't nearly make me cry. It shouldn't be so damned rare that it stands out like a searchlight during an eclipse. Part of me isn't surprised that I love him even more when he hurts me. Part of me is very used to that. Part of me expects it, thinks I deserve it, and has actually been surprised I didn't find someone like him sooner. I'm GOOD at finding people who hurt me. Sometimes, some very rare times, they only give me the good kinds of pain - fingernails on the back, hands in my hair, teeth at my throat, thrust and growl and moan and whimper and then I'm cumming or curling up or just purring softly happy drowning in sensation... ...sorry. I get lost in that a bit too easily. It frustrates me because I know that often, I push for that same pain that ends up driving me away. I look for it. I expect it, and thus I find it. I wish I could start over with him, somehow... sit down and explain to him all of my past, all of the things I've done, and experienced, and seen... let him know what it is that bothers me and hurts me and frightens me. Then, at least, if I still got hurt I could safely say that it was on purpose, or at least couldn't be changed, and get over him. As it is... I'm hurting, I'm hurting VERY much, and despite my anger at him for the pain I feel, I can't help thinking that he just didn't, doesn't, know... he doesn't see that it hurts, it's accidental, he doesn't mean it. Which begs the question: if he DID know, would he stop? Oh, when I'm lonely, I lie awake at night and I wish you were here. I miss you. Can you tell me Is there something more to belive in? Or is this all there is? In the pounding feet, in the, In the streets below, and the, And the window breaks and, And a woman falls, there's, There's something wrong, it's, It's so hard to belive that love will prevail. Oh it won't rain all the time. The sky won't fall forever. And though the night seems long, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall forever. I wanted sushi today, but both Scott and I woke up tired and sick. We're gonna do it another day. I'm still going to see, if I go out there, if I can scrape up enough for an unagi-and-cucumber roll at least. I took my painkillers about an hour ago and they are finally kicking in - two oxycodone and an aspirin to set them in motion. I find they work better on my cramps if I mix them with tylenol or asprin or advil... which is hell on my stomach, but I have anti-nausia stuff, which in turn makes me dizzy, but I have homeopathic remedies for same... it's an endless cycle of medication and counter-medication. I just want to be healthy. I'm going to run out of medication a week early. Maybe sooner than that. Last night I had a dream. You came into my room, you took me into your arms. Whispering and kissing me, and telling me to still belive. But then the emptiness of a burning sea against which we see our darkest of sadness. Until I felt safe and warm. I fell asleep in your arms. When I awoke I cried again for you were gone. Oh, can you hear me? I'm worried about Torian, at the moment, more than anyone. I want to get rid of the stress that's drowning him, I want to show him how much I care. I don't want to be his First, at the moment... I want to be the one he stays with. Have I explained that? Why I both love and hate being people's firsts? Love it because it's so overwhelmingly intense, because I can mold them into what I want and need... because I can give them the good firsts and save them from some of the bad ones, can give them the right sort of start, can give them all the things that were stolen from me. It's payback, against a very unfair universe. And I hate it, because so often, people don't stay with their first. It's a set of memories, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but it's something they grow past and give up and eventually, no longer need. It's like First Communion... important, yes, but not your only communion, or it's pretty pointless. Firsts are only important if you have seconds, and thirds, and so on, to compare them to. It won't rain all the time. the sky won't fall forever. And though the night seems long, your tears won't fall forever. It won't rain all the time The sky won't fall forever. And though the night seems long, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall forever. I didn't write this but I might as well have. It fits my life, fits it to a T. It suits me. Falling and falling... my tears won't fall forever, perhaps, but I will. I don't think there IS a bottom to hit. I think it just keeps going and going and going... I've gotten hooked on another song, "Good To Be Alive", by DJ Rapp, or at least remixxed by said DJ. It's not what it sounds like. I strongly suggest that you listen to this if you've been in love recently. It's a good song. Here - a fragment of lyrics: Don't crucify If I feel alive It's a natural high and I'm satisfied Absolved from sin I called the devil from within He told me live my life Don't let them criticise It's good to be alive Sometimes I wonder how I survived And in my minds eye When you're low no-one seems to know A fallen angel tonight I feel no shame when I'm high It feels so good must be right It feels so good inside Inside I'd love to love you but I'm too impure an angel I'd love to love you but I'm too impure an angel I'd love to love you but I'm too impure an angel I'd love to love you ... Yeah. Too impure an angel... and gods, but the high can be nice... *shrugs* Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one with this kind of life. I'm going to talk with him, with Spike, soon. Gonna have that Talk I've been wanting for days... weeks... something like that. Gonna explain to him, finally, ALL of this. No hiding. No hesitating. It's already gone far enough that really, this won't make a difference in some ways. It may change how he sees me, but it won't change who I am. It may hurt me to tell, but I already hurt. And it may, at least, help the next girl he gets involved with. Odd. Do I want to give him up, to run away from him, to set him loose, to leave him, however you want to phrase it? Do I really WANT that? Not... exactly. See, I don't want to be with him as things stand. I don't want to be with him when I know that the things I need, the words I want to hear and the feelings I want to experience and the sensations I crave and the trust that is necessary for a functional relationship, when those aren't there. There's no point in it, without those. But if I could trust him... if I could be sure, not that he would always be perfect, but that when he DID hurt me, when he DID do something that made me miserable, or when he DIDN'T do something important and necessary, that I could fix it... that I could make him fix it... if I could trust him with me, then I wouldn't want to leave, and certainly would have no reason to. *chuckles slightly* Grr thinks this is a bad idea. She doesn't want him broken - not that she thinks I could do it, she has a much higher opinion of him than that, but she doesn't want me to try, because it would hurt me and possibly hurt him. This is one of those entries that I'm not sure I should be posting... partly because there is so much MORE I want to say... partly because I've already said too much... but... I have to start someplace. So I'm starting here. I know I've already hurt him a bit, with something lost in 'tears. I can't say I didn't mean to hurt him, because I DID, I wanted, and still want, him to feel a little bit of the misery he's managed to put me through. I want him aware of it. Maybe he didn't mean it, maybe he didn't do it on purpose, but that doesn't change the fact that I am hurting and he's done jack shit to fix it so far. I want an apology. And... yeah. I know what else I want now. I'm not going to have it, am I? But maybe it'll all work out ok anyway. Somehow. Please, let this all work out for the best. Hosted by Diaryland - All Rights Reserved - Image, Layout, and Content copyright Jax Raven - - Do Not Feed The Moose - |
