beauty and the bitch?

first of all, i'd like to say that i love friends. true friends. the people in your life that tell you the truth even when they know that you're not going to like it.

anyways, i am eternally grateful that i have made a special group of friends with the people that i volunteered with this year at the campus drop-in center. we still have "team meetings," but now they involve dinner and wine. last night was one of these meetings, and while i was there i asked the our token male his perspective on a particular issue.

i've been somewhat unsure what kind of reaction or behaviour guys are looking for from girls when the guy does something wrong, i.e., cheats. when i had a conversation with an older female friend of mine, she said that a girl has to be a "bitch" every once in a while. that way, she won't get walked all over. i was not sure whether her opinion was borne out of heartache, resentment and cynicism, so i didn't know whether i could take it at face value. i, in my attempt to see things from the male perspective, thought that a guy might not want the crying and screaming and slamming of doors in their faces. i thought maybe they'd prefer the conversation and understanding and forgiveness.

now, when i posed this situation hypothetically to my friend, he said that as a guy, he would want "the bitch". he clarified, and said that it's not so much the meanness he'd want, but he wanted evidence that a girl has some pride and self-esteem. (sidenote: apparently those times that i didn't get angry and yell and cry, i came across as having low self-esteem. who knew?) according to my friend, guys prefer to have a girl that kicks him out and tells him not to call, because she is being assertive, and basically demanding better treatment. she is challenging him to be better than he's been in the past. it makes a clear statement that his wrong-doing will not be tolerated, or easily overcome; so, if he wants to stay with her, he better improve his game.

i wonder whether the outcome of various situations would have been different had i played the bitch card. i don't know. but, i appreciate the insight and i actually understand the logic. i will definitely consider that in the future, if i should ever be in another similar situation - which, from my experience, i would much rather avoid all together.

send out energy and it will return

during a conversation with my former significant other, i told him that one reason i look forward to having my own home is for it to be a place where people know they are welcome to come anytime of day or night at any time of year. he told me then that i couldn't tell people that, that they would never actually just drop in until they felt like it was their home and could do so. i had to make it evident with my actions that they were welcome to come.

well, this week, two friends of mine just "dropped in" on two separate occasions. they had no idea what i would be doing, or whether i would even be home. despite both of them having cell phones, neither called before coming. in fact, neither stayed that long, but they came in to say hello and just see what i was up to and how i was doing. i do not write this just to show to people that i have friends, and that they come to visit me. i'm not that concerned whether people think i have a lot of friends, or think i am a loner. i write this because it brings to mind a simple truth: little things can go a long way.

it irritates me that we use gifts as bargaining tools in this society. we do not give just to give; rather, we give with the expectation of receiving. when did this start? has it always been this way? i am not saying that we must all become altruists, but there is such a thing as sharing the wealth. if anything, do it because it brings you happiness to see someone else happy; do it because you know that another person really needed your help but couldn't ask for it; do it because it brings you peace to be a part of a community.

have you ever seen the movie, or read the book, "pay it forward" (catherine ryan hides, 2000)? it involves a young boy's design for ever-reaching understanding and generosity by doing three good things for other people and asking each person that you help to do the same (and so on). i think that this is closer to altruism, but still balanced with some personal benefit: the knowledge that your "good deeds" are passed on and many benefit from your kindness.

this concept of paying it forward was actually documented in a letter from benjamin franklin to bejamin webb dated april 22, 1784, which read:

i do not pretend to give such a sum; i only lend it to you. when you [...] meet with another honest man in similar distress, you must pay me by lending this sum to him; enjoining him to discharge the debt by a like operation, when he shall be able, and shall meet with another opportunity. i hope it may thus go thro' many hands, before it meets with a knave that will stop its progress. this is a trick of mine for doing a deal of good with a little money.

i wish that we could all remember this type of philosophy from time to time. even doing it when the thought randomly comes to mind, as opposed to every day, is still a great gift to the world. plus, the immediate payment typically involves a warm smile, or hug, or words, and possibly - if you believe - some good karma.

orion nebula

fear of things we cannot control

it must be come characteristic of being human, that we should fear things that we cannot control. at some point or another, i am sure that everyone has been afraid of something that is completely out of their control, namely the reaction of another person to something that they have said or done.

why? if you cannot control someone else, then you cannot expect anything from them. without expectations there should be no fear - only freedom. now, obviously this is a bold statement to be making, and i don't always live by it. but, in truth, if we cannot control how someone else feels then why do we worry so much about it? i have to clarify that i am talking about when we worry that someone else will not like us if we say that we didn't care for the jokes they told, of the friend that they introduced us to at a party, or their strange parents, or even the spaghetti recipe that they made last weekend. i am NOT referring to the reaction of someone else if we lie to them, or cheat on them, or betray their trust. we should be concerned about how the other person(s) would feel, because that is part of what keeps us from doing hurtful things to them in the first place. i may have to put this into context:

i've been having conversations with one of my roommates about how she feels that something is amiss with her boyfriend but when she asks, he says that nothing is wrong. she was afraid that if she tried to talk to him about it that she might aggravate something and make him break up with her. she thought that maybe he would be upset if she brought it up again. she worried that she would seem like she didn't trust him, or come across as though she wasn't enjoying his company. i told her that the only advice that i could offer her was to be honest with him about how she was feeling, and own all of her emotions.

she ended up having a long conversation with him, and although it didn't resolve everything that she was feeling, it did shed some light on the situation because when she told him how she was feeling, he told her how he was feeling. she got to get some things off her chest, and she got him to open up like she was hoping he would. so, why are we afraid of just saying what is going on?

the world i know

the world i know by collective soul

has our conscience shown?
has the sweet breeze blown?
has all kindness gone?
hope still lingers on.
i drink myself of newfound pity
sitting along in new york city
and i don't know why

are we listening to hymns of offering?
have we eyes to see that love is gathering?
all the words that i've been reading
have now started the act of bleeding into one

so i walk up on high
and i step to the edge
to see my world below
and i laugh at myself
as the tears roll down
cause it's the world i know
it's the world i know

brain storm

when was the last time i had a moment of complete and utter tranquility? when my mind was still and the only thing that persisted was the constant lub dub of my beating heart and the intermittant rush hush of my gentle breath. my mind has been filled with thoughts every moment. i've been running on autopilot with the radio blaring. i don't escape them, except in sleep, and that is only after the exhaustion drugs me up enough to dull the mangled noises to a low static hum.

do you ever wonder what it would sound like to listen to all your thoughts at once? people would probably think i was literally psychotic. i have conversations with myself about pros and cons. sometimes i sing to myself. sometimes i yell at myself. sometimes i yell at other people. i always found meditation difficult because i would struggle so much to put all my mental calls on hold. too many things to say or think or do, i always felt like i needed to be processing something.

even now, there is self-ridicule for "wasting" time. can time be wasted? i mean, it is immaterial and belongs to no one. it cannot be stopped, or rewound, or replayed; it is not available on dvd. a friend of mine told me that i should not be in such a rush to do things: "it wouldn't be the end of the world if you didn't have a plan," he said. no, it wouldn't. but, there are things that i want to do. so many things, actually. i just want to get it all in, while i can enjoy it, and while i can remember it, and while i can share it with some of the people i love. because, the fickle thing about time is that it brings 'presents' that you don't get the option of returning. this is a final sale.

so, i am always planning and replanning, and thinking and rethinking, so that i can figure out a way to get it all in. sometimes i feel like the hours slip away from me. i love the statement, "i don't know where the day has disappeared to"; i use it often. there are evenings when i sit and wonder whether i actually got all 24 hours that day. it's not like i'm keeping track, but i'd like to think i'm getting my part of the time share. i know i said that i was going to consciously try to be whatever i am. i'm guessing that includes being a 3/8 perfectionist, 1/4 worry-wart, 1/8 mama bear, 1/16 total spazz, 1/8 sugar and spice, and 1/16 child of the universe. my personal recipe for twenty-something girl without a clue how to live carefree and content.

don't get me wrong, i get to be happy sometimes; but, i've been finding those times don't last that long. another phase, perhaps.

to be a caretaker

last night i had a warm dream, that left me feeling happy albeit slightly empty or wanting at the same time.

~

i was among old friends in a home that was beginning to become familiar to me. we sat in the living room, and one of the women that was there held a baby. within her arms the child was fussing and wimpering, but not out of hunger or wetness, but out of fatigue. (sidenote: do you ever notice how grumpy or fussy we get, even as adults, when we are tired and cannot get to sleep for whatever reason?) i asked her if i could try to calm the baby, and she willingly relinquished her to my open arms.

i stood with the little girl, basically lying in my arms, with her face against my chest, and i swayed gently back and forth. then i began singing to her, "both sides now" by joni mitchell, and i softly stroked her eyebrows. she quieted and eventually fell asleep in my arms. i gave her up to the other woman, who took her upstairs to let her sleep in a bassinette.

then, i turned around, and in the other room he was standing there. i walked into his embrace, and we stood silently for a long while. then we cried and laughed and hugged once more, and rejoined the group in the living room.

~

i've missed being around children. one of my biggest regrets is that i was not able to be around more often while my two young cousins were growing up. given, the living situation, with them in michigan and then indiana, did not make it inherently easy to see them. but still, i wish i had been able to witness more of their young lives. they are almost 7 and 9 years old, and i am still only seeing them once or twice a year (when i'm lucky).

i'll be excited to have my own children. i've told many people that despite wanting to be a doctor, the most fulfilling job in my life would be a mother. i would be heartbroken if i couldn't have my own children, but i would adopt. i just want to take care of someone. i miss giving love in that way.

the language of dreams

in the past i have thought about trying to read all of the books on lists of great authors and poets. i mean, they must be called great for a reason, right? joyce, melville, tolstoy, dickens, austen, woolfe, bronte, steinbeck, and on and on. they've contributed in some great way to the collective mind. they have produced windows into the soul, and keys to the understanding of the human condition. they have captured dream and made it reality. so, in a humble attempt to experience some of this genius i bought "finnegan's wake" by james joyce nearly two years ago.

i actually happened upon the title while reading the first half of "fierce invalids home from hot climates" by tom robbins (which i did not end up finishing because i had to return it to the library - which i might add, is one of my favourite institutions). however, since i paid its leave from this quaint little used bookstore downtown, it has been sitting among my things, collecting dust. until last night.

i thought to myself that i needed a break from mendelian genetics and evolution, from panicking about organic chemistry and verbal reasoning, and from thinking about the consequences - one way or the other - of writing my test in june. so, i picked joyce up, and snuggled into a half seated-half fetal position on the couch and began my journey. i didn't go very far. unfortunately, i gave up.

now, to know me is to know that i am not easily deterred from seeing the end to something that i have begun. but, i honestly don't think that i could read that novel. james joyce has written it in what the commenters on the cover called a "dream language". some of his words are not words. many of them are sounds, or phonetically spelled versions of words. the most difficult part was the lack of complete thoughts in sentences. some of them began as though they had been started previously, and ended abruptly within a description. as much as i tried, i had absolutely no grasp of what was going on. at all.

so, i suppose i am apologizing to james joyce. i'm sorry that i wasn't able to read your novel. i'm sure it is a masterpiece. congratulations on your achievements.

the peaceful truth

what happens when we die?
in that moment of release,
do we instantly dissolve
into a never-ending peace?

must we face our lives, complete
with a review of all our deeds?
will we be asked to make amends,
and justify our greed?

will someone come to take us in,
to wherever “in” really is,
or will we have to wander through
our self-indulgent mist:

“i climbed up through the ashes
and made it to the light.
i found my everlasting home;
my darkness now is bright.”

does the ego still exist in death?
will it claim that we earned our place,
among the humble and pure hearted,
within the realm of grace?

or, will we be made to stand
at the crossroad of the soul
where one path brings us bliss
but the other makes us whole

one group will continue on,
seeking pleasure over pain
while a different group will linger
to find out from whence we came

for understanding brings a different joy;
knowledge, a different calm
with simple love and perfect trust
we’ll find what we’ve been seeking all along

is there something that you know that i don't?

apart from the obvious answer to the above question being "yes" in almost every case, i clarify to ask specifically whether people from small towns know something that i don't about living in small towns.

i very recently read a comment by an individual who is a stranger to me, who said that people in small towns remain there because they are "too uneducated or unmotivated to leave". is the same criticism made about people who want to move to small towns? are we just simple or lazy?

to be completely honest, i find city life both disheartening and unfulfilling. i was born and raised in a university town in southwestern ontario. i lived in the same house, on the same street, with the same neighbours from the day i was born until the day i moved away to university. i found my city living experience to be nothing special. for someone as mundane as i am, who even now in my early twenties doesn't enjoy going drinking at bars or doing excessive shopping in huge plazas, i didn't find being in the city to be anything but my routine. especially with my status as a student, and my lack of personal transportation (other than my two, only somewhat trusty, legs, of course), being in a city is more a necessity than a desire.

in truth, i'd love to move to the countryside. i like driving down long dirt roads. i like being surrounded by trees and grasses and streams. i feel so much more at peace with myself when i am not in the city, and i also feel so much more connected to the people that i am with. perhaps i feel this way because my trips out of the city were happy and memorable. but, i have wanted to live in a small town since before i was in high school, so, there must be something more to it than that.

but, i digress, and return again to my original question. what is it that people who are born and raised in small towns need to get away from? why would it be so terrible to go and "experience" life while getting higher education, or training, or travelling, or wandering (and so on), and then go back? did you not like being familiar with every street and every park and every person? did you not like being able to actually get lost in your backyard for the afternoon when you were a kid? what were you missing? the car horns, the smog, the sirens, the litter, the violence, the construction, the stripmalls, the cement gardens, the propaganda...? what, really? i'd be curious to know.

i'm mostly curious to find out whether you are just saying all those things because that is what people from small towns are expected to feel. i mean, almost any movie where the protagonist is born in a small town, the plot usually involves some grand scheme to break out of their situation and move up in the world, i.e. to the big city. are you just a coward, who doesn't want to admit to enjoying life in a small town amidst those friends of yours that actually wanted to move away? come on, get some balls. you only live once (or, so we'll say at the moment), so you might as well live where you want to live.

or, maybe you actually want to be in a box. my backyard was completely fenced in, and the grass area was too small for an inground swimming pool (for size comparison, not because we ever tried to get one). although my neighbourhood was nicely kept, with trees along the boulevard, and large parks for little league soccer and children learning to swing, you couldn't have a drink on your patio at the same time as your neighbour because he could hear you word for word. i especially like the new subdivisions where you have to choose your house from a select set of designs and colours. can we say cookie cutter? but, that is just me. as much as i am not that original, i at least know that i don't want to be told what brick and shingles i am going to build my house with.

and, on that note, what is wrong with restoring older homes? why do we all need brand new paper mansions? what bothers me on a daily basis is walking by century homes in guelph that have been allowed to get run down and dilapidated. the architecture is amazing, and the beauty is exquisite. but, i'll stop there. i could go on about how upsetting it is that people won't commit to retro-fitting older buildings for more energy efficient heating and cooling, or that people continue to consume beyond imagination despite the ever growing gap between the affluent and the impoverished. there are too many questions to be answered in just one post. one, or two will have to suffice.

tell yourself it's easy

i have been having trouble sleeping. i've been really restless, and when i lie in bed, my mind and heart races. i worry excessively and i know it, but not sleeping makes things even worse.

it's a viscous cycle really. i end up getting really tired, so i don't want to get out of bed in the morning. but, then when i get out of bed late, i get mad at myself for wasting so much time. i don't think i have gotten up with my alarm a single morning since i've been back in guelph.

do you ever reach that point, when you're feeling so overwhelmed that you don't even want to keep trying? almost as if you know that you're so behind that there is no point in working hard to get caught up because it will never happen? well, whenever i think i have reached that point, i really haven't. my situation is not so unbearable, so out of control that i could not still work really hard and pull it back together. it's just tiring. so, because i'm so pooped, i tell myself that i can't do it. i tell myself that it isn't possible. but it surely is.

the song from anastasia (the animated movie) came into my head this morning while i was walking to do some grocery shopping. *Note: don't judge me just because i know the songs to Disney and other animated movies. i still watch them* :

Pull yourself together
And you'll pull through it!
Tell yourself it's easy
And it's true!

so, i suppose i just need a little more confidence. here i go...

why was i listening for so long?

i think it is strange that i have so many wonderful people in my life and yet i have allowed myself to be so engrossed with you. i mean, why do i so miss you? why do i so value what you think or feel or say? i've finally realised, with the help of a friend (and some wine) tonight how i've let myself lose myself in you. it's not fair to me and it's not fair to anyone i might want to be with in the future.

i don't want to talk to you anymore. i don't need you on my mind anymore.

i didn't need my friend to tell me that to know it, but i needed him to tell me that so i wasn't wallowing in thoughts all by myself. i'm doing well without you, so there is no reason to hold on to you anymore. but thank you for the journey. good luck with life.

are you lonesome tonight?

are you lonesome tonight?
do you miss me tonight?
are you sorry we drifted apart?

does your memory stray
to a bright summer day
when i kissed you
and called you sweetheart?

do the chairs in your parlour
seem empty and bear?
do you gaze at your doorstep
and picture me there

is your heart filled with pain
shall i come back again
tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

i may not be there

i may not be there with you today, and i may not be in your life at all, but i hope you know that you're in my thoughts. happy birthday today.

beware of sexual content

do you remember all of those times that you encouraged me to be more sexually free, and careless? you had all of these grand notions about free love and unconditional love. i think you were probably born in the wrong era... perhaps just three decades too late. you would have been an ideal teenager in '69, smoking weed, making love, reading philosophy and listening to dylan. but, i've often said a similar thing of myself, only that i loved the poodle skirts and sock hops, malt shops and cool cars. strange.

anyways, i think you'd be surprised, or maybe even proud to know that i have been doing so much sexual exploration. i've finally realised and accepted, and even celebrated that i am a sexual being - and i like it. it may have increased since our breakup because i no longer have a constant companion with whom i might unleash my tensions and share my fantasies. speaking of fantasies, it is a book about female sexual fantasy that i am currently reading. and, it was one of the passages about fear that reminded me of one particularly hot union we had.

i decided to come to surprise you one friday night, last summer. i took the train, and i was supposed to get in around 9pm or something but there was delays with the train itself and then i had to wait for the city bus and walk the rest of the way to your house. it ended up being nearly 11pm i think, by the time i reached your backyard. i thought you might keep your doors unlocked, and i could make some sexy entrance into your bedroom. but you didn't. so, i had to shout your name through the open windows to wake you up and get you to come let me in.

when you came to the door, you were naked. and your eyes were orbs. to this day, i still don't think i have seen another person with pupils quite as dilated as yours were that night. it was fear, you told me. you thought i was a ghost. you had been just within sleep when i interrupted you, and it was shock and adrenaline that still coursed through your system.

since you had already been in bed (from being tired), i just undressed and got in too. both you and i got very aroused very quickly, and we had some very sensation filled sex. it was fairly brief, but it was hot, and moan filled, and passionate. i remember it being one of the best times i had with you, ever. and, afterwards - and i am pretty sure this is in part what makes it so memorable to me - you held me ver close and kissed my temple repeatedly, saying that you needed to make sure that i was actually in your arms. your heart was still racing, and you were still a little tense, but we got to hold one another through the rest of the night.

i've read some of the fantasies of women (which were taken circa 1970), and i've learned that many have similar sentiments to me, and many have similar ideas. it's been refreshing, invigorating, but slightly frustrating to learn all of these things about myself. i wish i had someone to share all of these revelations with.

firsts

if there was just one thing that i could change about myself, it would be to eliminate my need to see things to completion. i hate starting something and not finishing it. i don't like beginning a book and not reading cover to cover. i don't like even serving myself food and not eating every last bite. i don't like having to cut off conversations. i usually need to listen to the entire song, or watch the entire movie. but, i think i have trouble accepting that we started something and didn't see it through to the end.

i think people that read this (if ever anyone other than myself stops long enough to see words here), they will think that i am sad and pathetic, and that i cannot geet over you. perhaps it is true to a degree. i wouldn't argue that it is slightly strange that i am having all of these thoughts and feelings still. but i tend to think now that maybe i won't completely get over you until there is someone else that i can give myself up to.

does that make sense? i can't stop loving you until i can love someone else. someone told me recently that the last person that you were with is the first person that you start to miss when you feel lonely and sad. you've really been the only one that i have ever been with so it is natural, i suppose, that i should miss you now.

i get the feeling that i've glorified you, that i was disillusioning myself to what you were in my life. i mean, otherwise why didn't my family like you more, and why didn't my friends ask about you more? why? does that naivety come from you having been my "first love"?

you were my first-many things (in no particular order): french kiss, blow job (performed), cunnilingus, shower with a man, sex, sleep with a man, sex outside, sex in a hammock, sex in someone else's house, sex in a car, meditation, man i lied to my parents about seeing, man i spent family christmas with, many i went to a wedding with, man who bought me underwear, man i stayed at an inn with, man i took a road trip with, and probably other small ones.

it's difficult to let go of that. difficult to stop wanting to experience other firsts with you. i wonder if you know that. i wonder whether i got to be part of any firsts for you.

ahh, the kiss

has anyone ever told you that it is all in the kiss? there is a song by the chiffons called "in his kiss" that alleges that if you want to know whether your man loves you then you'll find it in his kiss. i'm sure there are many other songs, and books, and art (like this one), that all seem to convey the message that love can be felt through a kiss.

but, is that a completely objective method of gauging someone else's emotions? of course not. i mean, when we kissed i thought that it was wonderful sometimes, and flat others. we weren't always slow and sensual. sometimes we were rough. sometimes we were passionate. sometimes we were too tired or distracted. but, the variability in the kisses we shared gave me comfort. it made me reflect on how our relationship also changed: sometimes we were quiet together; sometimes we talked each others' ears off; sometimes we were bored with each other. we had, what i believed at the time at least, to be a functional relationship.

the key word is functional. even love needs work. the only way that love wouldn't need work is possibly when people are in a bubble, like during a honeymoon, or a first date, or lost in the ecstasy of physical intimacy. the two people don't allow the outside to permeate their thoughts and burden their hearts. there is only one thing to know and one thing to hold on to: that love. so, knowing that we were not in a bubble, and knowing that we were humans and fallible, i thought that we did a pretty good job of staying connected.

but, in hindsight, knowing all of the things that you kept from me, and all of the times that i poured out my heart and let myself be weak and vulnerable and you did not reciprocate, i realise that there must have also been lies in your kisses. so, i wonder whether you made me think i felt love. did you pretend? perhaps i have not yet felt that "in his kiss" phenomenon. as much as that is unfortunate (considering that i had intended to marry you), i suppose that is actually something that i can look forward to. thank you, i guess, for not taking that "first" from me as well.

lend me your ear and i'll sing you a song

did you know that you have ingrained yourself into certain memories of mine? i haven't been able to listen to the decemberists, or joni mitchell, or radiohead without thinking of you. i cannot look at particular alex grey paintings without thinking of you. i cannot ride a bike or see others riding without thinking of you. i especially cannot walk in the dark without thinking of you.

you told me once that i would stop imagining you in my dreams, and in my sexual fantasies. i will eventually stop associating sex and pleasure with you. i will eventually stop seeing your face when i think of my life in the future. i will eventually stop needing and wanting you. but, do you think i will ever completely stop loving you?

i've never purposefully cut someone out of my life, the way i have cut you out of mine. i always thought that our friendship prior to our relationship was one built on mutual trust, and respect, and philial love. i never thought i would make an enemy of anyone that i was involved with romantically - not to say that that is what we are right now. but, no one would argue that we're not best friends at the moment either. i find it difficult to imagine that i once had such a close bond with you, and now i do not speak to you at all.

i do not hate you. i do not blame you. i do not resent you. however, i am saddened by you. one of the only things that i really wanted between us was honesty, and you did not give me that. no, there was deceit, and there was betrayal. and, there was pain for both of us. so now, i hold mixed and sometimes confused feelings in my heart. a small part of me wants to run to you now, go to you and confess to all of the loneliness i have felt without you. that part of me wants to lay it all out on the table, even with the risk of rejection and resentment, and beg you to forgive me and try again to be that special person in my life. but, another small part of me also wants to keep this distance that i have established. that part of me hopes that you're realising that i am not that needy, young innocent that you dallied with. i will not be fooled again, i will not be used again, and i will not be walked all over again. i did not deserve it the first time, and i would be damned to put myself into a similar situation again.

so, i stay inactive. by default that means that i ignore and avoid you. that's probably for the best. i do not know whether i would have the strength to turn away from you. i'll try to get on with my life. i'll try to meet someone new. i will try to be happy, and fulfilled, and at peace without you. yet, i wish you knew that it hasn't been easy for me. somehow i think that information might help you to understand just how much you did mean to me.

to do or not to do, and the advice that i got

i've been thinking about you a lot. i wonder whether you underestimate the place you held in my life. although, truthfully, if you did understand exactly what you meant to me, and how i felt about you, would you still have acted in the way that you did?

but, you're still on my mind; less so now than before, which is a relief, but still. and, i start to wonder whether i should do something, say something, even send something, to let you know that. i know that i feel really good when someone sends something my way that let me knows that they are thinking of me. but, what would you do with that information?

would you rub it in my face that you're seeing someone right now, and that you don't need me to interfere with a healthy relationship? would you not respond, and ignore any attempt i made to contact you, because you were hurt that i stopped talking to you in the first place? would you be cruel and criticize me for not fitting into your image of me? or would you say that you missed me, and wanted to see me, or get back together? i don't know whether i could deny you, and that is the root of the problem.

i never wanted to have to deny you. i never wanted you to feel unsatisfied, or unfulfilled emotionally, physically, or personally. perhaps that is precisely why i went back to you, and tried to make it work. but, a difficult lesson was learned: you weren't working, too. with that, i am more and more realising just how much you were right when you once said that we wouldn't be able to make it for the long run.

none of the possible outcomes of me contacting you are particularly appealing. i'm not looking to hurt, or be hurt. so, i suppose it is better to just keep keeping my distance. i have a feeling that you never believed that i could do it, just take you out of my life. i had periods that i gave you the cold shoulder but i always came back. i don't know whether you acknowledge it to yourself or not, but i was actually the person that was least judgemental, and the most trusting, and the purest hearted (in terms of my intentions for you). i wanted to be a constant in your life. but, i didn't want to be used.

you had all of these philosophies and sutras. you said that there was a perfect love, that allowed perfect freedom which opened you to experience love from everyone in different ways. as much as i was "old-fashioned" and held myself to certain ethical and moral guidelines, did you not see that i gave you that freedom? don't misunderstand, i never pushed you into the arms of other women, but after the ones that you were with i didn't hate you and i didn't stop loving you myself. my love wasn't conditional on you being perfect. but, you didn't want it.

so, i guess what i am somewhat trying to say is that i didn't stop loving you. i haven't stopped loving you. loving you less is not why i stopped talking to you. i didn't feel like you were loving me back, or at least you were taking me for granted and not taking into consideration how your actions made me feel.

so, wherever you are, and whomever you're with, i hope that you're happy on monday and you have a good birthday.