Love is selfish. Do not tell me a healthy love is not. I want him all for myself, shamelessly, and will not share him even with the sea. I wish to be his only passion, I dream fruitlessly that that could be enough.

 

I wait for him, but waiting is hard, No - Impossible. What tides my heart over is knowing that if he were to choose, he would choose the empty space next to me. But if he would not choose that space, my waiting is meaningless. Love is lonely.

 

I am impatient for him to return to me and ease the strain of waiting... I do not want to wait alone, nor be the only one who waits. Love is impatient, so am I.

 

In expecting perfection and meeting with something less, lies the problem.  But I am literally blind to his flaws, if he possesses any. He is not blind to mine. Love is judgmental.

 

Love is unkind to me, for it renders me so helpless to its call, so dependant on its symptoms. I have not ever suffered as I suffer from Love.

 

Love is mortal, but I own the philosophers stone.

 

Love is human, and sometimes, Love is not enough. Not enough to keep us from crying, not enough to keep us from dying. Not enough to insulate us, nor keep us safe, not always enough to heal wrongs completely. But it is enough for him to forgive me and forget how I have failed him.

 

Good intentions and a pure heart alone cannot keep this love above water. Apologies and long talks and back-tracking and regret will keep my Love strong where Love leaves me weak and dazed.

 

I fail - I misplace my words and his passion, my emotion overrides my logic and my Love hurts him. Not from lack of Love, but rather too much - from spinning out of control with selfishness, impatience and loneliness and creating a Lovewind of destruction. Love fails, and it destroys.

 

But I know, my love is perfect.

It is big enough to swallow it's weaknesses and still emerge glorious, divine, almighty. My Love is my God, I dance around him and dare not dwell on his imperfections for fear that he will break me for my lack of faith. To him I am true and I give everything I have. To him I surrender myself, it is him I believe in.

Perfection does not mean without imperfections, but the ability to rise above them unbroken.

This Love cannot be broken.

 

Something inside me tells me it is time to write - I know not what. Maybe if I keep fingers to keypad for long enough the reason will make itself clear to me?

 

I cultivated some understanding today. About pride. I can honestly say that after today I believe it is something in our genes, our blood. For I know my fierce self-pride is justified, but all the same I am aware that should it not be justified, I would feel proud nonetheless. This is my revelation for today. The question is whether it is a good trait, or a bad one? Or maybe the question is whether the previous question is viable?

 

I discovered too, the other day, that I learn through questions. It is not my choice to subscribe to any one philosophy completely, but rather dabble in many and open more questions for my ever hungry mind. Youth could not abide these questions, and with frustration searched for answers... I submit that this is a flaw which most of us experience, yet few of us overcome. It is in learning to embrace the questions that I have found peace, ironically. Not in finding the answers.

 

I have always believed, for some unknown reason, that everything in life meets its opposite, if opposite ends are both taken to extremes. That every extreme, in other words, becomes its opposite. It is something I have sometimes strived to understand, but is more of an inward knowing. So, could this inward knowledge have been there for the purpose of teaching me that any question, taken to its extreme, is an answer in itself? It sounds very far-fetched and abstract, and I do not quite understand it, but I definitely like this idea.

 

I live to teach others, for it is hard to take ones own wisdom and apply it. In teaching another, one often finds that that person turns around and teaches me my own lesson, but coming from another's mouth, I finally understand.

 

"Happiness....is more precious than wealth"

I wonder will they know, how we lived, when getting home safe every day is an accomplishment.

It is not easy, and not desirable, to be criticised. 

 

In essence, the trouble with believing that one's world is perfect comes in when other people's perceptions clash with one's own.

 

For me to truly believe, as I wish to believe, that the world which I externalise is the only one that exists, nobody should be able to challenge my beliefs, ideals and actions. And so the the problem arises: What to do when it does happen?

 

As I see it, two options exist:

Ignoring the challenge, walking away and believing anything inconsistent with my own reality to be false....

Or accepting that my reality needs alteration...

 

To muse on the latter, there are few people who I would alter my reality for - that is, alter to include their perceptions and beliefs. It is hard to do so, for letting in another parallel universe is to expand your own beyond your control. That is when things get scary. Immediately, when more than one answer exists to any one question, there is the risk of confusion. I think that I have a problem with expanding my world...

 

It is easy, to get upset when your expectations are not met. However, I have never decided whether the injustice lies in the expectation not being met, or in the original expectation. Meaning: was my expectation too high, and the behaviour only what was to be expected, or, was my expectation trite and the behaviour sub-standard? I don't know if an answer exists to this question: in my world, my expectations are average. In worlds I choose to encompass, I have yet to discover.

 

And so, I live as ever, to learn, and this is merely one more musing, one that I have chosen to pen.

 

Possibly, maybe, I'm too grateful to be angry at anyone...

On friendship, and privacy.

Till now,

I had always trusted any eyes I permitted to read these words…

My heart spilled out before you.

 

But other regret has reached me of late; for trusting too much, for being undiscerning with my trust…Should these words be regretted too? I only regret the worst of things.

I had not seen myself as guarded with my emotions, I prefer to voice them. But they are not always welcomed.

 

Please. Give me no more reason to spill tears instead of words. I have lost too many friendships. And although I am adept at walking away it does not mean that I savour it. I wish that I could trust everyone who I choose to call my friend, I wish that people so named would not let me down. But I cannot, and they do. There is nothing to be done for it, except wait and see who lasts, and trust those who seem to last in the meantime. It is all temporary, I have long since come to terms with this, but never with the feeling of disappointment that lingers somewhere within me.

 

Another friend has gone, and I know not whether to fight for this one, or let it go. On the one hand, I am sorry, and I do not wish this split to be permanent. But on the other hand, everyone makes their choices, and he has made his. When you choose to consort with someone who is out to hurt a loved one, does it not serve to speak for itself? More than this, if I cannot trust that what I say to you will not be transferred to those who wish to use it against me, I cannot speak to you. I choose to comment no more. I miss you. But I will not expose myself to danger.

 

Another friend I chased today, despite myself.

Because some concessions must be made for the one you love most fiercely.

 And so I concede, and chase those who may not deserve to be chased. I reach out to protect another, I have long since been too hurt to bear any chance of salvage from this source. I would rather cut loose, rather have no ties to those who wish to hurt me and bring me down. I do not know which is the right path.

 

I do not enjoy speaking in specifics…

 

But I can put myself in your shoes, and understand where you come from. And if I can do this, then I can forgive you. But if I cannot, I find it hard to believe that you are worth my forgiveness. Yes, my world does revolve around me, and those who create an extension of me. Yes, I am the most important person in my life, I have no shame for feeling this way, I am not embarrassed of the lengths I will go to to protect myself. If you are not the most important person in your life, maybe it is you who should reconsider your value system, because I consciously choose not to reconsider mine.

 

So it has been said, whose eyes will read this I know not. But I know that fewer eyes will understand it. But I beg you to try.

I cried tears today.

Not because you are worth it. You're not.

But because you take away people I thought were dear to me.

Because I cannot be friends with anyone who has touched you.

 

I do not know why you hate me so much. And your substantiation is a lie. Anyone that wants to have anything to do with you can write me out of their lives, because I don't need them. Even a remote link to you is too close. I hate you.

 

I feel as though I should approach you, but you aren't worth the time or the effort. I will suffer in silence until I forget and then I will not care about you and what you say and who you say it to anymore. Because a friend who talks behind my back is not a friend. A friend who believes untruths about me is not my friend. So you are welcome to them in any case.

 

Simple terms say it best, there is no eloquence in my anger tonight. I hope you go to the deepest layer of Hell.

Sometimes it's not the being alone that gets to you...
It's the infinite waiting.
It's the clock who seems to move his hands to his own time, and often to spite you.

Why do we choose this?
Do we choose this misguided fate, or just accept it?
...There is nothing more to do when one's heart is weak from loving.

There is no body to comfort me at night.
Just an ethereal voice who comes when I call.
If I were to smile - or cry - would this voice know?

Nobody knows the torture of an unsure mind like I do.
Nor the torture of the silent waiting.
It is said every lover feels alone in his love and pain - but mine, mine is unique.

Am I the first to feel so?
I am not the only one who greets each day with the hope that her loved one will return, but it feels as though I were.

I am a selfish lover, and where once I would train myself out of this, today I am proud.
There is no greater love than that which defies distance, time, and persuasion.

Sometimes it is no help to write and coax the pain from behind your eyes to dance afront them.
And so, I have not written.
For fear that he would read my fears and see a bleeding heart where it is just scratched,
I have not written.
For fear of him seeing me falter in weakness,
For fear of tricking him into guilt,
I have not written.

For fear,
For fear....
For fear of being alone.

I have always said that we are sent lessons.
I will yet conquer my greatest fear.
I will yet craft beauty from my heartache and confusion.
I will yet rise above everything you see written here,
Victorious,
To claim the only love I have ever really wanted
Because
He is Mine.

"Love of mine

This fortress in our hearts

Feels much weaker

Now we're apart"

Placebo

Unfinished business

Will finish you.

So, it seems you are to drag from me another chance

Which I must be open to, because it is for the best

If this works out....

Just when I prided myself on letting go,

I am told to hold on,

And I cannot not listen.

So what is it you say behind my back,

That makes you look at me like that?

It is not fair, to deny your loved ones, for your peace of mind.

So who is the real man?

 

The man in anger exposed,

Or the one who hides behind his good mood...

 

Which one?

If you don't want to die of a broken heart

You must not fall in Love-Forever

And gradually, it is in less words

That one learns to say more.

In simple observations and unfinished sentences

A simple wish,

I would have someone walk with me

But noone, it seems

Will walk.

*

And it is fine by me,

If you are too busy knowing everyone else

To know me.

 

I feel a little bit betrayed,

I know I shouldn't, but I do

Because I am so certain

That I would have done what was asked,

For you.

Love and Ilness

Love and Illness

They are one

Infected am I

And I wish to stay in its

Deprivation-inspired bodyaches

Or erotic headaches

 

The fever of my insides does not match

The throbbing heat of your accessories

Your fingers are not long enough

To pull the cough from my throat

Or the slimy layer that lines it

 

The spittle that accumulates

On the tip of your

Cracked lips

Or

The liquid that streams

From either of our breathing-holes

 

It is with ferverous glory that I

Top up on my vitamins

To keep us well.

It seems to make you happy

Or give you release

From month long incubations

Of being alone.

 

And my excitable sneezes

Bring me to conquer your lap

To keep you warm and moisturised,

Climaxing in the extreme delight

With which we are both cured

Questions.

So does it please you now, to have professed to love them no longer,

When you still do?

Have you convinced yourself,

That this pain in your heart does not exist because you have walked away from it,

Because you have forgotten?

 

Does it impress you,

That not one day has passed since you thought of them

Longed for them

Belonged with them?

 

Is it right,
To be apart?

 

If so...

Then why does your heart still ache to be beside them.

Why?
 

'Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls must dive below.'

John Dryden All for Love

Oh, how foolish to think one, just one, would make it better.

[Sometimes you surprise me with your strength
and sometimes... you scare me with your weakness]



"And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth
until the hour of seperation." Gibran - The Prophet