I wish I could cry.
I don’t want to be numb anymore.
I don’t want this. I want to taste the air and feel alive. I do. I really do. I’m happy (not today) and life is good (just not this week). I just want… something. I want to hear “I love you.” I want to know that someone thinks I’m special. I want someone to convince me I’m not disposable. I’m feeling pretty pathetic and vulnerable… from that detached stance I take.
I could care. I know I could let myself love… someday… when someone wants me. maybe I’ll just be real. I’m not impenetrable. I might be invincible.
I’m just me. It’s all so fucking repetitive and who cares really... I want to be loved. I want to stop being defensive and afraid. I want to let myself love.
Not yet. But I want it. I want the magic. I wish I was adored... the Musician is being caring. Alexander is wrapping his arms around me. Neither one is really present in my life. Neither one has done anything to actually pursue me, but they’re both acting like they might possibly give a shit. Maybe someday someone might actually care about me.
I wish I could cry. I always wish I could cry but I can’t. I can feel it… barely… so far below the surface. An inkling of pain is there, quiet.
I wish for so many things. I wish I had spoken with Merrick these past few months. I wish he had been more communicative. I wish I could have known what was in his heart. I want to know if he knew, what he was feeling, how and why and what… was it cancer? Was it defeat? I wish Merrick had taken the time to talk to me. I’m a million miles away. I’m a million years away. Our paths crossed like two ships in the dark, sailing blind through an intense collision. I don’t even know how I feel about him. I don’t know anything. I just know I can’t cry. I can’t do anything.
I’m paralyzed and angry. I’m nothing. I’m so sick of being numb. I wish I could scream and shout and feel. I wish I could jump off the cliff and know that I would survive. I want to feel the pain. I want to bleed and ache. I want to yell at him. I want him to hold me. I want to know whether I even give a shit. Do I even care? He’s gone. Big fucking deal. He was a hurricane. He was an incredible force and maybe he was just done. I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Fuck this.
It’s just so weird. Other people can cry. I wish I could cry.
I feel sick, weak, lost, needy, and pathetic. I want to be fucked. At least then I would feel something. I want pain and humiliation. I want the punishment and the comfort. I want the warmth and fear. I want the soft protection and the violent degradation. Instead I’m alone. So alone. Silent.
No man loves me. No man needs to protect me. There is no number in my phone to call. I can’t say “I need you to hold me. please.” I don’t have that. I’m too strong. I’m too in control. I’m in so much fucking control I can’t even cry.
I could be weak with Merrick… but he’s dead now.
I don’t want this. I want to taste the air and feel alive. I do. I really do. I’m happy (not today) and life is good (just not this week). I just want… something. I want to hear “I love you.” I want to know that someone thinks I’m special. I want someone to convince me I’m not disposable. I’m feeling pretty pathetic and vulnerable… from that detached stance I take.
I could care. I know I could let myself love… someday… when someone wants me. maybe I’ll just be real. I’m not impenetrable. I might be invincible.
I’m just me. It’s all so fucking repetitive and who cares really... I want to be loved. I want to stop being defensive and afraid. I want to let myself love.
Not yet. But I want it. I want the magic. I wish I was adored... the Musician is being caring. Alexander is wrapping his arms around me. Neither one is really present in my life. Neither one has done anything to actually pursue me, but they’re both acting like they might possibly give a shit. Maybe someday someone might actually care about me.
I wish I could cry. I always wish I could cry but I can’t. I can feel it… barely… so far below the surface. An inkling of pain is there, quiet.
I wish for so many things. I wish I had spoken with Merrick these past few months. I wish he had been more communicative. I wish I could have known what was in his heart. I want to know if he knew, what he was feeling, how and why and what… was it cancer? Was it defeat? I wish Merrick had taken the time to talk to me. I’m a million miles away. I’m a million years away. Our paths crossed like two ships in the dark, sailing blind through an intense collision. I don’t even know how I feel about him. I don’t know anything. I just know I can’t cry. I can’t do anything.
I’m paralyzed and angry. I’m nothing. I’m so sick of being numb. I wish I could scream and shout and feel. I wish I could jump off the cliff and know that I would survive. I want to feel the pain. I want to bleed and ache. I want to yell at him. I want him to hold me. I want to know whether I even give a shit. Do I even care? He’s gone. Big fucking deal. He was a hurricane. He was an incredible force and maybe he was just done. I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Fuck this.
It’s just so weird. Other people can cry. I wish I could cry.
I feel sick, weak, lost, needy, and pathetic. I want to be fucked. At least then I would feel something. I want pain and humiliation. I want the punishment and the comfort. I want the warmth and fear. I want the soft protection and the violent degradation. Instead I’m alone. So alone. Silent.
No man loves me. No man needs to protect me. There is no number in my phone to call. I can’t say “I need you to hold me. please.” I don’t have that. I’m too strong. I’m too in control. I’m in so much fucking control I can’t even cry.
I could be weak with Merrick… but he’s dead now.
posted by Ryann @ 01:03
6 Comments:
At 1:34 AM,
Anonymous said…
Cheer up kiddo. Local weather calls for some sunny breaks...
At 1:28 PM,
Anonymous said…
Are you Okay?
You write beautifully.
I read your first entry in 2005 and your most recent posts. I am a fifty year old man, and I am head over heels in love with an exotic dancer, who is around 30 years old. I have a wife and kids. She has kids and the father of her children is still in the picture.
I am trying to learn more about strippers and your blog is intelligent. Thank you.
I'm not really available and neither is she, and if we were, there is the age difference.
I think about her every minute of everyday. I adore her. When I see her, we play. She sweetly plays a Domina to me.
I know a little about her life story, and I am writing a journal, that I have not published yet.
I'm worried she will leave the Club, and I will never see her again. That will devastate me. She makes me melt. She has rocked my world. Last night I told her that I was in love with her. I told her it is getting crazy. She said that is when it gets fun. She made me promise her that I would hold it together. She told me to bring my cell phone number written down for her next time I come. What should I do?
I would be happy to see her 3 days a week, but once a week is all I can do. I want to see her for the rest of my life.
Some days I get really depressed. Sometimes I wish I would disappear. Today, I am happy because I saw her last night. I am still shaking with excitment. But in a couple of days, I will probably get depressed again, because I need to see her but must wait. What if she is gone!
I have a blog, just so she can anonymously comment. I gave her my email address, but she wanted more anonymity. Now she wants my phone number. I wonder if she'll call with "private caller" id.
I'll comment with my blog user name. It's disguised as a Ski blog, but it's for 'her' to contact me, so I wont ever lose her.
What should I do? Do you think I'm headed for a fall?
I would love to talk to blog with you and find out more about what makes her (Crystal) tick.
At 1:55 PM,
Anonymous said…
Ryann, be upfront with the Musician and Alexander. Ask them, or one of them, what they think about dating, or getting serious, you know, bringing this to the next level. Be calm. Be information seeking. Be not too emotional. Be not scared. Be not shy.
Trust me, I'm 50 and they say that youth is wasted on the young. But the young cant help it. It's just the way it is. Have guts. It's the practical thing to do.
If they say no, ask why not. Remember, you must calmly and earnestly request information. Ask for honesty. Dont be offended. They might want to see you because you're an exotic dancer, but they might NOT want to see you for the same reason. Tell them it would mean alot to you if they were honest about this. Tell them you're struggling and need they're help.
At 6:15 PM,
Anonymous said…
I say forget both the Musician and Alexander. There are better choices out there! :)
At 9:08 PM,
Ryann said…
hahaha well the debate on the musician and alexander has begun. sweet!! we'll see where it goes I guess... in time.
Jack:
welcome to my blog. I appreciate your thoughts, and your situation. sometimes life isn't as simple as we'd like-- but I guess that's what makes it life. my email is posted if you'd like to email me.
Anonymous:
thanks.
ps. I think you need to get a real alias and drop the "anonymous"
At 12:10 PM,
Anonymous said…
Some thoughts...
your last comment said "in time". Sometimes it is smart to wait. Sometimes it is smart to make your move. Sometimes it is time to move on. What is your gut feeling?
I see you bring up 'control' alot. I used to have a friend with OCD. I was not perfect enough for her. She took her kid out of school because it was not perfect enough. She moved because the town was not perfect. I see similarities in perfection and control. You are NOT OCD. I dont even believe in labels, but just like nothing can be perfect, there is no controlling life. Oh sure, you can conrol somethings for awhile, or so it seems, but that control is not a sure thing, it's just probable. As an exotic dancer, you are almost always in control of the situations. Even powerful people dont have control. Nothing in this world is perfect, nothing is controllable.
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