Empty

Empty longing
The lost spaces between
Have and have not

Almost forgotten memories
Touch, taste, smell
Hands, soft on smooth skin

Desire of things forbidden
Need long laid aside
Still wanting

Dreaming in heartbreaking clarity
The words, the smiles, the tears
The memory of home being in your arms

Empty spaces
Lost longing
Between you, me, us

You left your scars

A hollow
A pit of anger and regret
A shadow
The echoed reflections of a love you couldn’t handle
Emotions you never knew
A passion you chose to hide from
To abuse
To ignore
The care cannot win out over the hurt
The heartache
Shattered glass shards that pierce with every move
Wield your weapons with care, you know not the damage you can cause
Nor the enraged beast you have woken
The coldness sets in
Shut down. Empty.
Full of violent intent
You’d better run, because there’s nowhere left to hide.

Make it stop

I ache. Every inch of me. My body. My mind. My heart & soul. Anger. Sadness. Regret. Rage. Loneliness. Heartbreak. The weight of love lost, of promises broken, of lives not fully lived. I hate that I’m wasting so much of myself, my time, my energy, my emotions, on someone that already abused and took advantage of me for 6 months. On something that was a waste of my time for 6 months. On someone who cornered me about what was wrong and then ran and hid rather than face up to it. And people wonder why I have commitment issues. Why I have panic attacks when it even begins to look like someone could hurt me. Why it is so hard for me to trust people. Because every time, every goddamned time, I get abused. I get left behind. I get taken for granted. I get hurt, and broken, and left to pick up the pieces. Even worse, my friends get mistreated for simply being my friends and standing by me. For being my strength and support. For being good people. And that just adds to the hurt. Because some people are so small & petty that they can’t see past their own pain to what they’re doing to their own friends. I know that I’m putting mine in an awkward position, and I’m trying my best to make it better. And when I fail, I acknowledge it and apologise. I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could make other people better just by wanting it. I wish they had the strength to make themselves better. God dammit. I wish they wouldn’t keep proving me wrong.

The year so far

It’s been a tough year so far.
Injuries. Illness. Broken promises and tortured hearts.

The worst part is the disappointment.
In others, for making me believe in them, for making me trust them and open my heart to them, and then abusing me and neglecting me and taking me for granted.
In myself, for being foolish enough to believe that I wouldn’t get hurt. For thinking that if I loved hard enough, tried hard enough, it would be different. For compromising myself to make someone else feel safe, and then letting their insecurities control who I was. For not being strong enough to stand up for myself sooner. For hurting someone else, someone I love and care about. For getting my friends caught in the crossfire.

I need to stop being so hard on myself.

I don’t need to ask “Why?”

Talk, talk is cheap.

Give me a word you can keep.

“Why me?”

I don’t need to ask the question. Every pore, every fibre, every single part of my being knows the answer without needing to.

Because it’s who I am. I don’t hold back. I love with every inch. Feel completely. Care without censure. It’s just the way things are. The way they’ve always been. This is why I used to isolate myself. Why I kept to just a handful of friends. Loving too freely took too much of a toll. Even now, I cannot stop the pain, the hurt, the betrayal of trust. But I no longer try. I love, or hate, with a deep intensity that is barely contained. A fragile strength. A thin veneer of confidence, of self-awareness, of knowledge, keeping the wave of emotion at bay. Cracks appearing when I open myself up and let another in, an exquisite pain that is worth every tear. It might be delicate, but it holds. Like a spider’s web. Like a secret smile shared between confidants. I have others to support me now, others who know what lies beneath, or at least a glimpse. Others who understand it is all or nothing. That every time, in every way, it is me entirely that throws myself into the void. Even when it’s foolish. Even when I know better. Even when I swear black and blue that it’s going to be different. Maybe this is why it hurts so much, because I don’t know how to be reserved, how to hold back. Or maybe I do, but it offers me nothing but mediocrity. Nothing but a lacklustre half-life. Shadows and hints at what might be, muted palettes, but never the full rainbow, never the stark and life-like perfection of colour, mad, intense, thought provoking colour. Love and hate strewn across a canvas littered with every other shade of emotion. Disgust. Delight. Elation. Despair. Apathy. Determination. I take it all, every sweet and sour moment. Every cut, every lash, every lie. But only to a point. I will not sacrifice my all for your nothing. I will lay it all out there, give myself to you, but only those truly worthy can hope to hold it. I cannot play both halves, I need someone to catch me when I fall.

I chose this pain. This life. It may not be perfect. Others may question my sanity, or the inherent lack thereof, but it is mine.

And I never wonder why me. I know. I always have.

Not your typical gf

I have never been anyone’s idea of a “typical” girlfriend.

I’m not jealous and clingy. I don’t demand every second of your attention. I don’t expect you to spend hundreds of dollars on gifts or dates. I have no inclination to meet the family or have you meet mine. Hell, I don’t even expect to be the top priority in your life all the time, I understand that sometimes other things require greater attention than the girlfriend, and that’s OK. Also, I’m terrified of commitment (it’s actually one of my anxiety triggers), and discussing our mutual future is likely to see me burst into tears, pass out, or throw up. I’m perfectly comfortable in having a committed relationship, I just never want to talk about it or set down concrete plans. I’ve been fucked over too many times and I’m still dealing with the fallout.

I’m perfectly fine with going to a movie or a band on my own. With going out to a club alone. I’m self-assured and independent and I don’t need you to hold my hand in order to do something I want, and this has pretty much been who I am since I was a kid (just ask my mother, she’ll tell you).

Also, I don’t treat any of my friends any differently because I’m in a relationship. Yes, there may be one or two that I have toned down the affection with or have had to ask to back off a little because the boyfriend at the time hasn’t liked the interaction, but fuck it, they’re my friends. They were before you, they will be after you, and whilst I’ll be considerate to your needs, I’m not going to just stop being myself around my friends because you don’t like it. Grow up!!

This also means that once our relationship is over, I am more than likely to go back to treating you in the exact same way that I treat my other friends. You will cop the jokes, the sarcasm, the wit. You will have to endure the divine torture that is me being me and treating you with respect and politeness and teasing the hell out of you. You will have to deal with me being an outright bitch without ever having to do anything bitchy at all because you’re being a sulky little puppy. And I will be nice. I will be polite. I will be the Queen of Snark. And I will be your friend through all of it, even when you wish I was dead.

I have never been the typical girlfriend. In what world do you think I could ever be the typical ex?

Feeling listless

I know I’m not alone. I have friends & family who love me, who are there for me when I need them, some of whom would drop everything to help me out. But I feel so isolated right now. The one thing I want, the one thing I need, is out of my reach. I can’t ask for it. I just have to wait for things to come back into form, to settle down. It’s the waiting that’s killing me inside. I don’t want to wait for my heart to mend. I shouldn’t have to be picking up the pieces all over again. I hate being hurt, over & over, by men who claim to love me but don’t show it, don’t treat me with respect or kindness, expect me to idly sit by & take whatever bone they deign to toss my way. I’m sick of being the one who fights, being the one who has to always bend, to compromise. Of being the one who gets left all alone out on a limb, and then being treated like I’m the bad guy when I’ve had enough & let go.

But I’ve had enough of fighting in despair. All I want right now is to be held & told it will all be ok. I just want to stop waiting for it to change.

Visual

When you look at me
What do you see?
Two legs, two arms, curves and eyes and lips
What do you see?
Do you see the mind? The intellect?
Do you see the strength? The courage?
What do you see?

Arriahne Worthy (31 March, 2012)

Angry and hurt

I’m beyond angry. I’m upset and hurt and I just want to tear into someone. You treat me with this level of disrespect and disregard for months and instead of fixing things you go right ahead and keep on acting the same way!!!! Shouldn’t this be a huge fucking indication that you need to treat the people you’re meant to love with a higher regard. That they should be your top priority and you shouldn’t fuck them over by being complacent and lazy.
You’ll be lucky if all I do is barely acknowledge your existence.

A note to all future ex-boyfriends

Don’t fuck with my head after I’ve already broken up with you. You’ll just make me angrier. GAH!!!!