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May 26, 2006
Joy in seeing myself as strong
I am comfortable and wise. A welcoming embrace.
I am generous and cheerful with stark sadness in my dark corners.
I am a place for giving birth. For embracing. A place for letting
go.
I am clumsy lacking in grace, a mean and jealous
person. I try to keep him caged within my chest. But maybe my
love isn't bad. Maybe it's okay to love the way I do. Maybe I
have to see myself as light. To see the FEAR as the biggest problem.
If I can choose to be without him, I can survive if he walks
away. It is more about losing him, than it was about me. I was
afraid I would lose him. But if I can lose the fear. And really,
what AM I afraid of? I see Bill less than most of my friends,
like Christian, Marty, Ed. So why aren't I afraid of losing them?
Because I sleep with Bill? Then is it just about the sex? No,
it's that he knows me so well. It's his rough collar and how
his skin feels against my throat. How he mirrors me.
It hurt when he said I never helped him in
all these years. But he is kind of hard to get along with, when
he's so busy pushing me away.
You see things late in the streets at might.
Marty, Christian and I watched a drunk girl railing against her
boyfriend because she said twice he called her a piece of shit.
They argued not far from where we stood, but why didn't she walk
away, and let him sit with the consequences of his actions? We
protect the people we love from their actions and make ourselves
the problem.
I get scared and revert to childhood fears.
God, I feel so lonely. There can be joy in seeing myself as strong
and nurturing. I can derive happiness from putting away my insecurities
to tend and minister to my friends. I already do it to a certain
extent, but maybe now I can step into it as part of my identity.
I was starved for touch? Yes, I was. And
my mother always says how much she hates being touched by strangers.
Does she hate touching other people? Did she hate touching me?
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