It's like I still keep some kind of distance even though I really don't need to. It's been so long since we talked and suddenly you're just there. Words flowed out of me but I still didn't know exactly what to say. You've been missed, very much, much more than I dare to tell you, and I've never really been good with these kind of situations. I believe I've changed since last time we spoke, so there's that too. But I always have changed in the past without that ever getting between us. You always recognise me anyway.
And I gave you a thought each passing day, but never sent you anything. I guess we both suck at keeping in touch. The ocean between us sometimes seems much bigger than it really is, doesn't it? There's something daunting about that, to me. And I've been talking to walls for months, the echoes became my answers. I always felt so distant, lost somewhere within myself. It's rattling within me, like dead leaves caught in the wind. Suddenly they seem alive again.
It smells like garbage in here, over the cigarette smoke. There's garbage everywhere around me. And the flies gather in thick herds around it. I'm disgusted and despondent. Change to another song, fill up that drink glass again. Cause here we go with the drinking again. My body still hasn't recovered from yesterday's drinking, I'm still shivering, weak and tired and my brain still isn't working properly. And I drink about half a bottle of vodka per session these days. I'm still trying to drown my thoughts and feelings, but what am I even trying to drown tonight? There's nothing left to drown.
Shouldn't that make me satisfied, that I somehow seem to have managed to drown everything? I just feel empty. Like a shell, and there's nothing inside me anymore. It's just echoing in there when I call out. I get no response from my brain at all. Just one of those days, I guess, but I still can't help but wonder exactly what I might have successfully killed in there.
One glass down, I don't even know what I'm doing. Satisfying an addiction, perhaps. Am I addicted? Mentally, at least. It comes and goes, like much else. Oh my god I really do want to weigh just 38 kg. Cause it's 83 lbs and that's the same number reversed and it would give me a BMI of just 13,5. That would be skeletal enough, that would make me just skin and bones. But I just know somewhere in my heart I will never manage to reach a weight that low. If I'll die before then or just not be able to do it, I don't know.
But it's a goal nonetheless. Will my ugw just keep getting lower? At first it was 60 kg, then 57, then 50, then 47, then 44 and now 38. It's gone down to less than half of my starting weight, which was 80 kg. I'm getting cold and tired again. Don't want to change to a warmer sweater again. The cigarette smoke hurts in my throat again. I'm cold and want K to hold me. But he's miles and miles, endless of miles away.
I'm yawning so bad I kill my jaws again. Not sure if they're dislocated but not fucking far from it at least. Gotta be more careful with that.
Y, and I miss writing to you too, but I'm giving you the time you need as well as I can. You have a lot going on right now, I'm aware of that. And I don't know if I need to say it, but I am sorry for always getting so emotional and attached especially when I'm drunk. I'm glad it was okay with you that I brought that up however, and that you also think we should find a more personal way. Your short messages do give me reassurance and calm me too. Don't think that they aren't good enough, if you do, cause they really are. They mean a lot to me. Also, your most recent quote made me shiver all over, like damn. In a good way, I never know if "shiver" is the correct word to describe what's going on with my body and mind. But it's the closest word I've got.
Okay, now I'm starting to feel the booze, three fucking glasses in. Sometimes this slow brain of mine really is slow started, for some reason. I can barely breathe again. I'm smoking way too much, my lungs can barely cope. Like every breath is strained somehow, it's hard to explain, but it kinda feels like my throat is swollen or something. Or like there's freaking smoke in my airways. Wonder how come.
My body so doesn't want me to get drunk again, I can feel it in my every fibre, but am I listening? Not much. I mean I do take the information in but then I decide to not give a single fuck. I'll take it easy tomorrow though, won't go to school, but need to buy cigarettes so will do that even if I'm entirely a wreck. Need to have my smokes, just really fucking need to. Then I can be severely hungover or whatever, I don't care. But I can't keep doing this, I can't afford it. Maybe if I stop buying food and energy drinks, but even if then, money is tight.
And I know I shouldn't prioritise booze before food, but I'm an eating disordered alcoholic, what do you expect me to do? I don't know for sure if I can be categorised as an alcoholic but I'm not really striving for sobriety either. In periods I drink everything away, then I "take it easy" and like only socially drink and so for a while, before I'm back to drinking everything away again. It's been 2010, 2013 and now 2015 with almost sober periods in between. It never entirely leaves me but it never entirely stays either. I don't understand it, so I call myself a "part time alcoholic" with just no better way to describe it.
My thoughts are depressing me with impossible scenarios again. Things I want to tell K and things I'd want him to say in return, but the likeliness of that ever happening is so fucking close to zero percent, like why do I even bother. And that was just so weird... no I think I'll keep that one to myself. One of my rather weird kinks that I just randomly imagined telling him about, with him included sort of.
Yes... asexuals can have kinks too, it's just that they mostly also disgust me and cause conflicts in my head. Back when I was a member on AVEN, over there I found some useful information, about something called "fetishist asexuals" or something like that, cause I doubt that was the actual term, but something along those lines, described me perfectly. I'll have a lot of sex in my mind including kinks and like... it's as forbidden as ever can be, but I'd like for it to stay in my mind. Most of it at least. Some of the not forbidden stuff I can imagine trying out with someone, like K, in the future if he'd ever be interested.
Or possible someone else if I ever get into that mindset again. I'm more open minded than I might seem, just not on most days. It's been years now, since I actually was with another person that way. And I don't miss it much. Like the only one I really want to be with is K, but then I can imagine being with other people too, if like the moment is right or whatever. But as I lock my heart, and my last few remaining sparks of a lust, for him, I know I might die never having had sex again and I'm somehow completely fine with that.
Like, I've had my adventures. I've had so much fun, danger and adventures it's actually kinda crazy. How much of that I packed into those 6 or so years. 14 people and a lot of uninhibited insanity. It's almost worth dying for. How it ranged from devastatingly horrible to beyond amazing and everything in between. Mostly it was horrible though. Mostly it was jaded desperations, drugs and drunkenness that led me to it. Is that sad?
That mostly I just used sex as another form of self harm thinking it should be the best thing ever no matter how I achieved it. My late teenage years and early twenties were mostly like that, regarding anything, but oh how I longed for that senseless sex that could never last. It hurt me, it thrilled me and excited me like nothing else. So how come I just suddenly sort of reverted and said no to it all? Was it the memories, or was it something else? Common sense? That I'm fucking everything up including, oh very much, including that?
Maybe I just got too damaged by the pain it brought me, that I could never do it right. That it was either just shallow or self harm, and I can only count to two or three of all those 14 people where it was not like that. Where it was something deeper, something even remotely meaningful about it. Maybe most of it was just tragic. I think it was, and I do think that a great part of me now, wants that if it's ever gonna happen again, it better be a hella lot meaningful and beautiful for me to even pursue it.
And I'm not saying that K is the only one I'm ever gonna let touch me that way, but I'm saying it's a possibility. Oh my god, K I'm sorry for laughing out really loud at your latest tumblr post, it's hilarious but I do understand your pain, like oh my god. I hope the cleaning up won't be too messy. And I'd love to send you a message any minute of the day, but I keep my distance and I'll wait for you to come to me. We have our understanding/agreement and I respect you enough to keep my word, even though it hurts, and I just want to talk to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment