This Modern Dystopia

I’m in the eye of the storm. Except that the eye is supposed to be calm. Nothing feels calm. What’s new will stay, what goes will go.

Of course I reach a breaking point. I had to have it stop. I can’t just keep crying about it. I’m staying away and you’ll stay away as well.

I couldn’t possibly enter into anything new and give it my whole self if I was still lingering on you.

And now I have to grieve your absence.

What a shit show.

Possible new career beginnings.

New attention.

Perhaps someone that’ll see and appreciate me.

It’s hard to have hope after failed unrequited love.

The only way is to move through the feelings.

One more eclipse

From moody Pisces to organized, rational, disciplined Virgo.

New beginnings

Being a Scorpio is hating every real testament to feelings I’ve put to text and paper and wanting to delete every past memory of idiotic feelings.

I’ve started journaling again and have much neglected this. At least ink to paper has a satisfying sensory feeling in my fingers.

Summer is here and I’ve been visiting loved ones and it’s been fine. Still a bit lonely and still stressed about the greater struggles. Otherwise I’m mostly fine. I should be content for the moment for that.

I outlined my life in the hopes that I can get this memoir done. There’s so much to recall. So far it’s going slow but going all the same.

Progress not perfection.

I used to be so good at physical intimacy. And pushing boundaries with how comfortable can I make this person feel to let me be intimate? Certainly with men. How could a man decline a girl like me? I took it from everyone and relished in hearing how I won even the most introverted over in the end.

But it was fine. It was me.

Now I find myself completely unsure and nervous. I know I used to do this with ease. Now I’m wondering how do I get back to that person the made people feel comfortable?

That’s a Pisces super power… Making people feel comfortable… And seen.

It’s Pisces season… And all the feelings of my moon are flooding me. I credit most of my best traits to this placement. The natural empathy, the joy, the dreamy ideals, the artistic and inspiring. The easy laughing… The kindness.

The traits that soften out the harsher edges of my chart.

And as I watch people celebrating their favorites, I notice the qualities that they share and fondly remember my Pisces.

He wasn’t even mine. I wasn’t one of his best friends, I was never a girl friend. Only once we considered each other for a couple weeks, he squeezed me so tight the whole night.

But by then we had known each other too long. Long enough to know we were both trainwrecks. Long enough to know each other’s flaws.

And, at least on my end, We always felt so similar.

I want to get back to the person that loved and wasn’t scared to love. But she feels so foriegn to me now. Now I’m old and disappointed in everyone.

That’s probably why I’m so nervous. I haven’t been disappointed yet.

We’re such great tragedies in our hearts.

I miss you.

I know you would want me to pursue Love.

I’m trying Micah.

They say delusions of grandeur and exaggerated self worth are symptomatic of borderline.

Here again I feel the opposite. It could be caving to self pity. But I think I truly am too different and too difficult to love. I don’t think I am unworthy of love. I think that the common man is simply not up to the task. I have always been able to see myself the way others do. The reason I don’t get invited to parties or girls trips, the reason men never want me as their girlfriend. I’m too bright, too loud, too confident, too pretty, too self aware, too easy to capture attention. So I’m eliminated from inclusion by anyone that doesn’t want the spotlight stolen, anyone insecure in any of these areas. They don’t want me around.

To men I’m so easy to sleep with. But they lose interest as quickly as I do. Sometimes cause they’re scared. How good it felt, how intimidating the depths of my feelings. I would love to give all my love to someone. If only someone were to want it.

I have only ever a handful of friends at a time. And inevitably I outgrow them. I can feel it happening again. I am the mirror that shows you the truth and holds you accountable. You can’t lie to me. Many friends appreciate that. Up until the thing they don’t want to see, they’re not ready to take accountability for is reflected back. Then they fade out of my life.

It is a lonesome existence. Knowing that I am a person that comes into people’s lives to make an impression, to help grow, to educate, to helping people become better versions of themselves, but never to stay.

Moving back to the city was intentional as I am not the only one carrying out a solitary existence here. I am among many living similar lives. I prefer it here.

But I crave companionship and I know not where to get it.

I would take an offer to be an aunt in a family. To be any part of a family would be enough.

But again all these things.

No man has ever valued me till after I was gone. Then realizing the chance they missed.

Perhaps you’ll be the same.

But more than likely you’re not aware.

I am convinced of my exceptional self worth and that it hinders anyone from wanting to be with me.

I suppose that’s sort of borderline.

This season’s holiday blues have kicked in again. The steady lows of financial struggle. The anxiety of the impending term. The uncertainty of what comes next. What comes after Rome falls? Will it fall in time? Before mother earth wipes us out? Who knows.

At any rate.

This holiday season sucks.

I think some of it is giving in a little. Then taking a step back. Crying it out. Then find something new to fixate on… Rubbing my cheek and feeling a flush as the bruise is still tender. Remembering the details. How much better it is with someone experienced. Exactly the distraction I need. How well he knows me. That’s what I need distraction… Redirection. Like a toddler. Focus on this instead. Hell if it works. It works. My whole life has been nothing but a game of figuring out new ways of tricking my brain into being okay, letting go of the intense feelings, learning to ride them out and self soothe. My feelings are my own to handle. No one else’s. I wish there was more recognition for that. But that’s most of life. Silent victorys that only you know.

I’ve grown.

And it feels good.

I didn’t realize I was keeping every moment.

Tucked into a compartment of my brain that wanted to preserve every memory. 

Every time I made you laugh. 

Every moment we were silly. 

Every moment I thought you were something I could never achieve. 

That moment in the backseat as we crossed the bay back into the city lights.

Accidentally revealing how uncool I was.

Swearing you to secrecy in embarrassment. 

I didn’t realize how much I had admired you.

How much I wanted to make you laugh always. 

How envious I was that other women had your attention. 

That smile that I wish I could make that wide. 

I had no idea I was holding onto these tucked away. 

Just a crush that would amount to nothing.

Every time you suddenly appeared at another event. 

Hearing my name and turning to see you there. 

Smiling and flirting. 

Feeling confident wearing my provocative garment that left little to the imagination.

Turning around and seeing how I was precisely in your eyeline. 

A stoned grin dancing for your gaze. 

I didn’t realize how I kept these moments so uncontaminated and honest. 

I had forgotten I could ever feel this way.

About a boy. 

That I wished were mine. 

Tucked in a box labeled wishful thinking. 

I didn’t know I was avoiding this feeling. 

I didn’t know I had given up on such things, such desires, 

such wistful longing. 

I had given up on the male gaze. 

Then you reappeared again. 

Suddenly your presence so much sharper in clarity. 

I understand a little bit more. 

Why you heeded caution. 

Why I was being taken with a grain of salt.

How I must be familiar. 

But now I can’t lie to myself anymore. 

I can see and feel the longing in my heart.

The wish that it could be love,

Returned and not one sided unrequited affection. 

In spite of knowing, 

it would take another three years, 

you’re a slow burn if at all, 

so many things could happen before you believed I was safe, 

so many things could happen before you ever saw me, 

so many things before you could grow love for me. 

So here I sit how with the unearthed box of feelings I can no longer ignore, 

For a person that does not feel the same.

How do I close it and continue to wait? 

How do I close it and hope for the best? 

How do I manage this longing I hadn’t felt in a lifetime? 

They’re my feelings and no one’s responsibility but mine own. 

So I’ll keep it myself. 

Hold it close and do my best to not waste away in the dreams of what could be. 

Be grateful that I can feel this at all anymore. 

But don’t indulge in delusion,

lest I go insane. 

Reign in this Pisces heart that so desperately wants to be loved, 

One last time. 

To love another,

One last time. 

To nurture, to care, to give to another. 

Who fucking knew I could ever feel this way for anyone again? 

Certainly not me. 

So I’ll tuck this box away

Do my best to stay positive. 

What the future holds none can say. Perhaps he’ll see me, perhaps he won’t.

Perhaps these memories will forever remain tiny keepsake treasures in a box near my heart. 

From the house down the road from real love.

I’d like to smother myself

This familiar space I associated with youth’s folly

You could never be that dumb bitch again

What did we learn from our 20s?

If not that time spent pining was a waste?

Yet here we are.

Facts laid out in front of my like a poorly dealt hand

Spelling out the futility of this wasted heart.

I don’t want feelings. I don’t want these feelings. I hate that I can’t control them. That your laughter is all I want. That the kindness in your embrace wasn’t so intoxicating. That I didn’t live for your smile. I

hate that I now know your embrace. The intensity within the sheets. Feeling your body react. Wishing like a stupid fucking Scorpio that fucking was enough to make you want to love me.

How desperately I don’t want to feel this way for someone who does not feel this way for me. How foolish to feel for anyone who doesn’t think the world of me.

I want you to want me. Even though I know that’s nowhere you’ll be anytime soon. Even though I had planned on a gluttonous lustful binge myself.

Knowing that you might never feel that way about me. That you can’t see, the bitter jaded heart I hold somehow has found a person worth loving in you.

What a fucking rarity. That any man could catch my eye and the pining of my heart I didn’t know it could still feel.

Could still hope.

How foolish a bleeding heart.

My belief that it was dead. That there was no one it could possibly believe capable or worthy of loving again.

And here I lay wasted.

Wishing I could hold you in my arms and play with your hair. Wishing I could fucking care for you. Wishing I could make you laugh forever.

Unrequited love.

I hate my Pisces moon.

Together with my Scorpio sun.

Making me capable of this madness again.

Is it really a slow and steady race?

If I go slow and steady will I eventually meet the end? Will they be there waiting with love for me?

I want to have more self esteem than this.

I want these feelings to go away.

I would give anything to give such feelings up.

For I know nothing of how to protect my heart.

How do I escape unscathed?

It is so rare, that I find a man that I think is worthy of my love and devotion. My standards so critical and high. To be what I deem a good man, while also being a man that I could easily love. How easy it is to make them laugh. The ease with which we enjoy each other’s company.

This rarity of such a male. And despite them being such a dream to me, they never seem to be all that interested in me.

Not like that anyway.

It’s easy to romanticize the unknown. To forget that love is simply not enough. That you don’t know a person’s ability to resolve conflict when the inevitable feelings that go hand in hand with love arise.

No relationship is without conflict.

But how I wish they’d give me a chance.

My Pisces moon hiding in my soft part of my soul. Still wishing and hoping. The bleeding heart.

I’ve never been a person included in groups. Groups of girls going on a girl’s trip. Groups of friends dressing in theme on Halloween. I’ve never been the girl a guy wants as his girlfriend. Despite my capability of devotion and loyalty. No one wants that from me. I’ve always been a bright unique shining star, but a lone wolf all the same. Everything I wanted to do with someone else I learned to do for myself. Keep my home beautiful for me. Cook yummy food for me. Buy myself the things I want cause no one else will. Love myself because I can rely on me.

I’ve never been a priority to anyone. Not my parents, not my ex boyfriends, not my friends. There isn’t a person that has ever thought ‘what about ____?’ I’ve always had to run to keep up because I was always forgotten.

But I can’t for all my attempts erase the impulse. The envy when I see dope group costumes and girls trips. The rare male that I wish I belonged to. That I wished wanted me like that. The inability to kill the jealousy of the woman who can hold their attention. The desire to be apart of a family unit and help some mom with her children and watch them grow as we laugh with wine.

I’m too unique, too bright, too brazen, to bold, too sexy, too mouthy, too independent, too me.

If there’s anything I know it’s that I can’t stop being me.

And the people that love me, that’s what they love.

I am unapologetically myself.

But I can’t kill the part of me that wishes I was someone’s priority. That there would be someone that always remembered to include me. That my depressive episodes wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Maybe then the stark light of the brazen ugliness of humanity wouldn’t feel so lonely and full of despair. Maybe then I’d have purpose beyond myself. I don’t think people get that about depression. How difficult it is when you are your only purpose.

Most days I’m fine.

Today I woke up sad and jealous.

My own fault looking at things and having the knowledge that I shouldn’t.

I am also my own worst enemy.

I’ll cry this morning. Get it all out. Then I’ll pull myself together, put my face on and go about my day.

Because even when I feel like shit, I might as well live.