I want to write.
I don’t want to write.
Now, I’ve written.
Wait, I forgot to write that.
No, I didn’t want to write that.
I didn’t even mean that.
I should’ve worded that differently.
Now, I don’t want to write at all.
Now, I don’t have time to write and I have volumes to say.
And that’s how weeks turn into months of pent up emotions not shared. Milestones and revelations lost.
I’m still so fucking lonely. I believe it’s intensified.
Attended a local munch. Not many new faces but seeing familiar ones is nice. Only, said familiar faces are not single.
I am single.
Terminally so, it seems.
I can cuddle and make out with the above familiar faces. To an extent. This past munch, though, it wasn’t enough. It was clear who they were there with. And in times like these, though it may not be expressly implied, I feel uninvited and in the way. Even if not, I hear the voices that raised me and shaped me tell me not to interfere with what they have. Love is beautiful and rare and precious. They have theirs. Let them have it.
I’ve been interested in polyamory. Why, though? Is it because I doubt I’ll have my own one on one relationship?
Very much so, yes.
I’m told It’ll happen when I’m ready for it. I’m told that I should just concentrate on being the best person I can be and she’ll come to me when I’m ready.
I don’t really know where to start with that. I don’t really know what it means, even. But, in looking at myself and my life, I’ve come to certain realizations about myself.
I don’t believe that it matters what I want or what I try to do.
I think it’s been a recurring theme in my life that’s become a belief. I didn’t always get the happy meal or the quarter to play that video game. I got a Super Nintendo, but I never got Street Fighter II or Final Fantasy II (IV.) I had two brothers and a sister who had to be provided for along with me. I was lazy in high school, so I went to the military instead of college. I could look at scholarships, but i was still going to the military.
I don’t get what I want, so the best I can do is learn to live with it. Some guys at my high school would say (and I have no clue of the source of this quote,) “If you don’t like, learn to love it.”
What I’ve had to do. More success in some things than others. Doesn’t help that I’m rather laid back, go with the flow, live and let live and fairly (aaagh… what is word…) easily swayed.
Discharged and back home, still no concrete career plans, I take whatever I can find. Still do. Still no concrete career plans. I consider myself an artist, maybe even an artisan, but I don’t do much art, really. And I have bills to pay, and need “a job with benefits,” so says my mom. ”Then, you can get a woman.”
Part of the reason I don’t believe myself attractive. Despite several woman telling me otherwise. Somewhat physically attractive, maybe, but what does that matter?
Meanwhile, the church gives me more “You’ll find someone when you’re ready.”
A LOT more.
“God will give you someone when HE’s ready.”
When the fuck will that be?
“Get your relationship with Him right first.”
“Keep your thoughts pure.”
“Pray that He’ll change the desires of your heart so that you’ll yearn for what He yearns for.”
Never got myself there for the two years I was there. Decided I’d go crazy before I got right with God, so I left.
Still haven’t gotten laid. At least now how I wanted to.
Missed two opportunities to in the last two weeks (okay, so one got postponed, but still…)
Meanwhile, I haven’t even MET anyone I want to have sex with that’s not already in a relationship. And/or lives within reasonable driving distance.
I’ve begun to feel that, as previously stated, it doesn’t matter what I want or what I try to do.
Meanwhile, I’m at home. Alone. Lonely. Want to reach out to someone. But, don’t want to bother anyone. Tired of being the one to initiate conversation. Tired of running out of things to say.
Really tired of feeling like I do nothing but whine.
But, no one ever reaches out to me, so I keep to myself. Who cares what I want?
Someone finally reaches out to me…
Someone from the men’s group called. They wanted to know how i’m doing. Of course they invited me back.
They asked if they could call me back to get together for coffee. I didn’t refuse that, but I’m not really looking forward to it. I don’t want to go back to that church or that men’s group. I don’t want to have to explain why. I don’t really think I have a good enough reason not to.
I feel the same way about going to church Easter Sunday. Especially if it’s going to be like the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Already heard it from my mom about no longer regularly attending church. That I was grown and that all she could do was pray for me, but that God would whip me and that it would be good for me.
Yeah. I’ve come to the conclusion that while she means well, several of my mom’s parenting methods have been wrong for me.
Still, I’ve felt like that every time that anything bad has happened over the past year. Longer than that even. Would I have totaled my mom’s truck and had to give up the savings for my own vehicle to replace it had I never left church? Would I still be at the scrap yard? Would I have caved in to peer pressure and tried prayer and counseling for my “problem with lust?”
Unimportant in the grand scheme. What’s done is done. The next step is what’s important.
And I have no clue what that step should be. Or maybe I just don’t want to make it and am just making excuses. It seems to be the only thing I know how to do most of the time. At least in the grand scheme of things. I have trouble taking baby steps. I’m too impatient. I want to know that I’m progressing in the right direction. And I’ve become convinced that others know that direction better than me.
Elders. Whom I should respect. Who say that know the way. The way.
That have been down my road.
Not my road. I’m the black sheep, the nonconformist. Some days I have courage to blaze my own trail. Some, I seem mired in the mud that I’ve followed the wrong path into. Some my path is blocked by the signs of the “one true” path.
I’m not sure that is the one true path.
Yeah, that’s right, I said it.
I’ll believe it for a little bit…