the pattern continues...
I wish I could believe. I want to have faith that I won’t be alone forever, but I don’t. I don’t think I’m the sensible choice, and I don’t believe any man I want would ever be foolish enough to take that risk. I’m never going to be the easy choice. I just don’t believe it. I’m the mistress. It’s all I know, and it hurts.
It’s hard for me to find someone I can relate to on the level I need. There are days when people challenge me on it and it’s annoying. It’s hard for me. I’m not willing to compromise my standards, just my boundaries… over and over again. I’m so tired of being the other woman I just want to scream. I want to cry. My eyes stare blankly at the screen, fighting the mist of pain floating just behind this expressionless mask.
I was with the Brat last night. (I’ll take dumb ideas of the day for $200 Alex)
There were too many reasons to not go, and only one reason to see him. I wanted to. I missed him. I wanted to be near him and cling to every second of time I could spend with him. I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it was inevitable. I know we created the circumstances. It was lovely. I miss him. But always lingering in my mind are his choices. He chose someone else and I feel like a fucking fool for being vulnerable again. I’m standing here waiting for him to hurt me again. I’m waiting for him to tell me he doesn’t want me. I don’t believe I will hear anything else. It’s all I know. I snuggle closer to him, shrouding myself in his warmth. I hide from my fear in his arms. I close my eyes to shut out reality and steal these precious moments. I just want to feel something other than disappointment. I want to hope.
It was a bad idea. We’ve been trying so hard to keep out visits within time constraints, in public places. The sexual tension masks the reality, we should not be here. I should not be here.
I’m leaving soon. I have to pack and organize my life. I don’t want to go. This tour is too long, and I’m already homesick. I’m excited to see a few friends, and I’m looking forward to work, but I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be alone every night. I don’t want to lie in bed at night clutching my care bear and denying tears. I don’t want to watch couples on the street while craving the simplicity of human contact. I like his hand grasping the back of my neck.
I’m feeling lost and ashamed. I wish I was stronger. I’m angry that I’m letting him hurt me. I’m disappointed in myself for loosing my resolution in that holy moment, for wanting it, for allowing him to make me the other woman again. I’m annoyed that my independence is such an efficient excuse. I don’t need him. I’m okay alone. I don’t want a boyfriend, or a distraction, or a mirage. I want a partner. I want to be real.
But instead I’m going to get on a plane. I’ll be back at Christmas… Maybe with some distance I’ll just forget the sting of impossible situations. Maybe someday I’ll actual break this pattern. Maybe someday I’ll be more than the other woman… maybe someday for someone. Maybe someday I’ll believe it, but not today.
It’s hard for me to find someone I can relate to on the level I need. There are days when people challenge me on it and it’s annoying. It’s hard for me. I’m not willing to compromise my standards, just my boundaries… over and over again. I’m so tired of being the other woman I just want to scream. I want to cry. My eyes stare blankly at the screen, fighting the mist of pain floating just behind this expressionless mask.
I was with the Brat last night. (I’ll take dumb ideas of the day for $200 Alex)
There were too many reasons to not go, and only one reason to see him. I wanted to. I missed him. I wanted to be near him and cling to every second of time I could spend with him. I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it was inevitable. I know we created the circumstances. It was lovely. I miss him. But always lingering in my mind are his choices. He chose someone else and I feel like a fucking fool for being vulnerable again. I’m standing here waiting for him to hurt me again. I’m waiting for him to tell me he doesn’t want me. I don’t believe I will hear anything else. It’s all I know. I snuggle closer to him, shrouding myself in his warmth. I hide from my fear in his arms. I close my eyes to shut out reality and steal these precious moments. I just want to feel something other than disappointment. I want to hope.
It was a bad idea. We’ve been trying so hard to keep out visits within time constraints, in public places. The sexual tension masks the reality, we should not be here. I should not be here.
I’m leaving soon. I have to pack and organize my life. I don’t want to go. This tour is too long, and I’m already homesick. I’m excited to see a few friends, and I’m looking forward to work, but I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be alone every night. I don’t want to lie in bed at night clutching my care bear and denying tears. I don’t want to watch couples on the street while craving the simplicity of human contact. I like his hand grasping the back of my neck.
I’m feeling lost and ashamed. I wish I was stronger. I’m angry that I’m letting him hurt me. I’m disappointed in myself for loosing my resolution in that holy moment, for wanting it, for allowing him to make me the other woman again. I’m annoyed that my independence is such an efficient excuse. I don’t need him. I’m okay alone. I don’t want a boyfriend, or a distraction, or a mirage. I want a partner. I want to be real.
But instead I’m going to get on a plane. I’ll be back at Christmas… Maybe with some distance I’ll just forget the sting of impossible situations. Maybe someday I’ll actual break this pattern. Maybe someday I’ll be more than the other woman… maybe someday for someone. Maybe someday I’ll believe it, but not today.
posted by Ryann @ 00:05
3 Comments:
At 11:46 AM,
Anonymous said…
me is so sorry for the situation yer in.. time they stay does make things better.. an it has to be true cuz otherwise life wouldnt be worth it.. an life is worth it remember that ok???
At 1:34 PM,
Becky said…
I've been there, I've done that, got not only the tee shirt, but the sweatshirt and the pants to prove it. It's lonely and it hurts, but the pattern can be broken. I've done that too. I hope you find your way out of the cycle you're in. No one can lead you out, you must find it for yourself.
At 7:14 AM,
Anonymous said…
I think damn, 5'1; over foot shorter than me.
Questions are lovely things, beautiful, as lovely as a lady on a poll, which by the way this strip club addict misses because fiscal priorities have cut the once or twice a month trips. However i digress. In an election year it is nice to see a poll worth looking at, brass not Zogby. D, R, and who cares candidate(s) (for some reason)? Amyway the most lovely question is the one we ask ourselves or someone who listens; the one lovely thing about prayer, God exists as an entity that always shuts up and listens without being asked.
Pardon the reference, but I try to make God a generic reference at least. Even a philosophical usage.
Funny I mentioned dogs in my last post, it was St. FA Day (4th).
Regards,
Gölök
"Apathy is the root of all evil's enabling." -- Gölök Zoltán Leenderdt Franco Buday
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