Saturday, January 28, 2012

Untitled

This girl will self-destruct in 5,4,3,2,1.....

Silence.

A soft giggle.

A light poke in the side.

Still silence.

A frown, just a light crease between her eyes.

Flash

"You're gonna get your first wrinkle right there Sweetpea."

Flash

Biting strawberry, kiss-bruised lips. "Hey. I was only jok-"

"Shhh. Just go to sleep,"

Restless, too much weight on a thin shoulder.

A sleepy grumble. A tighter grip.

"Sleep"

But she cannot close her eyes.

Flash

A red scrap of lace. A shrug. A smile

Flash

Withdrawal, indifference

Flash

"You think too much. Just enjoy it"

Flash

Lonely nights, gut-wrenching tears

Flash

Fighting to stay together, staying only to fight him

Flash

Longing to understand him, to understand us

Flash

"You are self destructive"

Flash

"Your fantasies are getting in the way of our happiness"

Flash

Begging him to stay

Flash

"I am not the man you need"

Flash

Doing this dance again

Flash

I cannot get out of my head

Flash

Lying here next to him, this girl will self-destruct in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Pants on Fire


One Hundred and Seventy Three.

That's how many lies I have told this year.

A few months ago I visited a psychologist, just to talk about things. I am one of those people who do not crumble under emotional pressure, I implode instead. Unless I talk about them first. And since my best friend has been gone, I haven't found anyone I can openly talk to.

I made some good progress with the shrink, until we fell in love (it was mutual, I have proof). After that I swallowed my fear of Priests and visited Father Andrew.

Father Andrew is really... fatherly. He says we tell lies to control situations. By creating a story that is not reality, we create something we can control. But the real reason I lie, especially to myself, he says, is because I am trying to avoid pain. Which I probably agree with. Lies hurt relationships, and I have hurt many of my relationships by acting like I cared less than I really did.

For a loving father, he managed to still give me some homework, one of the things I hate most. The assignment was simple: resolve unresolved feelings by talking honestly about them. So on the first day of this year, I sent out my first letter out of the blue. It simply said, "Hello, I miss you". But even that was a lie, I should have said, "Loving you hurts too much, and I plan to never speak to you again if I can help it".

That's how it started.
"How are you doing today?" I'm great! Couldn't be better!
"Does this dress look alright?" Yes, you look perfect.
And when he told me he loved me, I smiled and said I love him too.

So here we are, One Hundred and Seventy Three lies later...

PS there are 12 lies in this post...

PPS maybe that was a lie...

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Fifteen

How many days does it take to change your life?
A month? 3 months? 6 weeks?
I read somewhere that it takes 21 consecutive days to break a habit.
I wonder how many days it takes to break a bunch of intertwined habits;
habits that feed one another and grow together;
vices that have a life of their own.

When does loving your body become vanity?
Where is the thin line between being human and giving yourself up to lust?
How do you stop the lies when you have so many secrets?
Can you stop keeping secrets when you have no one to trust?
What is the magic formula for picking the right friends?
The questions I have are endless...

It has been 15 days this year and I am hard at work making a new life for myself, a patchwork of all the lessons the years have left behind. I don't know how many days it will take and I know I will make new mistakes on this journey...

But I have changed enough not to repeat the old ones