There's a very painful time in adolescence when one realizes that their parents are just people, not the perfect specimens that embody right and wrong. You take a hard look at what made and raised you and realize that like your parents, you are deeply flawed. Society is broken. There is a discord among the general populace. People reach a certain age and give in to the madness they had once evaded. The preconceived notions and judgement. They give in... unapologetically. Being a good person is a struggle for me b/c I am also an addict. Addiction haunts me and lingers. It creates the demons I battle. My addiction.
My addiction & subsequent affliction: is it sex addiction or love addiction? I am not sure. All I know is that sometimes the only thing that staunches my desire to die is the momentary (yet fleeting) satisfaction of cumming. Whether it be my hand, a vibrator, a dildo, or preferably a hard dick attached to a preternaturally sexy man... I crave it. Desire masked as "need" b/c it feels like I need it. Its a fix like any other drug. The first time I was touched by a boy, it felt so fucking good. I remember closing my eyes on the school bus, those long rides to school in Bastrop, Texas. Rural as fuck. We are talking 40 minutes. I just relived the moment over and over... the touch and how good it felt and how I *hoped* just hoped... that he would touch me that way again... AND SOON.
Nothing has really changed. My mind is preoccupied with sex most of the day. Until it isn't, b/c something disgusting has happened. Something so gross it is difficult to even mention. To type. Love. Its sickening really, falling in love. No, not really. I'll quote myself from circa 2008:
Knowing love is knowing pain. If there is nothing to lose then there is nothing to gain.
Love. I am also addicted to love. I want it. I crave it. I need it. I really thought I had it this time. And once again I'm shattered. The rambunctious freedoms of being lonely again. I'm different now and so is the pain. It is not masked with anger and insecurities. It is just pain, naked as the day I was born. It's raw and real and nearly unbearable. I'm strong AF though and this too shall pass. My heart is coated with callouses and stamped with the names of a few fallen lovers. Mangled and a bit like swiss cheese from the pieces I've given out in the past. This heart of mine, of no use to anyone anymore really. Irreparable damage no angel can assuage. I feel only sadness without him in my life. Strife. I wanted to be his wife. :'-(
Nothing has really changed. My mind is preoccupied with sex most of the day. Until it isn't, b/c something disgusting has happened. Something so gross it is difficult to even mention. To type. Love. Its sickening really, falling in love. No, not really. I'll quote myself from circa 2008:
Knowing love is knowing pain. If there is nothing to lose then there is nothing to gain.
Love. I am also addicted to love. I want it. I crave it. I need it. I really thought I had it this time. And once again I'm shattered. The rambunctious freedoms of being lonely again. I'm different now and so is the pain. It is not masked with anger and insecurities. It is just pain, naked as the day I was born. It's raw and real and nearly unbearable. I'm strong AF though and this too shall pass. My heart is coated with callouses and stamped with the names of a few fallen lovers. Mangled and a bit like swiss cheese from the pieces I've given out in the past. This heart of mine, of no use to anyone anymore really. Irreparable damage no angel can assuage. I feel only sadness without him in my life. Strife. I wanted to be his wife. :'-(
I am past wanting to die. I know my worth. I deserve better. The obdurate insolence and radio silence tell me all I need to know, yet I still want to ignore the obvious. He never really loved me. My eyes blinded by the wool once again. Foiled. I'm the fool for believing it was real. It never is. Forever Alone meme. Tears lube my masturbation. Fuck this.
Shell shock abated.
It was never about him or you. It was you. But I won't stand idly by and wait for someone who does not deserve me. If it is a matter of love and choice... I choose me. I love me. I love myself and I am happy to be alive. Not as happy as I am lucky. I love you, Billy. But I love me more.
All I can really say now is how much I miss you and how much this hurts. :-(
All I can really say now is how much I miss you and how much this hurts. :-(