to love for the hope of it all

merry christmas 🙂

there’s something about being alone in a new apartment while your family celebrates their own two different christmases – one in turkey, one in canada. i always struggle with feelings of loneliness, but it hits harder than ever during the holidays as i realise that i also don’t have the life here that i thought i would have. i was so occupied with moving into this flat and hosting people (still not entirely sure why really – for people to just like me?) that i forgot to take into account how upsetting it would naturally be to spend christmas alone.

366 days ago i told a.b.s. i was in love with him. it’s a year later and things feel more confusing than ever. holding my hand while telling me to leave him alone? not at all sure what to make of that. waiting patiently for him to invite me over for christmas even though we basically act like we’re in a relationship but i’m not even sure if he wants me there? surely not a normal thing. i can’t tell if we’re closer than ever to actually being something, or further than ever.

i’ve been too caught up with the present this year to plan anything in my life well enough to make it happen. which isn’t necessarily a bad thing! now i know how to. i’m hoping 2026 will bring a good year of balance and joy – i’m going to make sure it does.

—

it feels like i never know what i should be doing. i’m aware of objective and overarching goals and things i need to do, but at the end of the day i’m just in a flat, alone, wanting to talk to people. truthfully i don’t even know what i want anymore. i’ve lost sight of it a little. i’m scared that trying to figure it out is going to force me to make a number of really difficult decisions that i’m not ready for. decisions about people in my life, that although i don’t want to lose, might be for the better (i hate even the thought of that, even though a part of me knows it holds some truth).

the worst part is that if you had asked me before yesterday how i was feeling about my life, my answer would’ve been extremely positive. i would’ve answered that i love my apartment and it feels perfect to me and what i want for myself; i’m loved and cared for by many friends in london, and have an extended support system all over the world.

today, i just feel the chill of the new flat and uncertainty (about both my day’s plans, and my general direction in life).

if i were thinner. if i were better, maybe people would actually like me. if i were just better.

december brings its own unique type of melancholy and sadness. it’s both a reflection of the year past, and a strange comparison to how it has been in years past. the month makes me contemplate just how much i’ve changed over time, while also bitterly reminding me of what i’ve lost: time, people, opportunities.

i wonder who is to blame for my desire to distance myself from a.b.s.. while the easy answer may be him, my brain has an extraordinary way of self-sabotaging and running away when things get too difficult (something i don’t usually struggle with when it comes to him).

i think having two weekends in a row where he admits to thinking of others, this close to the time of year he hurt me last year, was perhaps a lil too much for my brain and heart to handle.

my proclamations of good faith, that “i’m flesh and blood, in front of you, and i care about you, if you’ll let me” and “i don’t want to give up on you, so stop asking me to” echo in my head. i know without a doubt that i mean every single word that comes out of my mouth directed at him, and these are no exceptions. i just also worry how much longer he’ll push me away. how many more times i’ll be sat next to him wondering if he’s thinking of someone else. how many more times i’ll pretend it doesn’t affect me to my core and forgive him. how many more times he’ll hurt me.

i’m not even sure he remembers that i’ve told him any of these things. or that he remembers telling me that maybe he didn’t realise he was pushing me away or hurting me. i think there may fundamentally lie the issue: he doesn’t care to understand me; not really. for a man who i believed so values my opinions on serious topics, or occasionally on life even; i start to wonder how much of him i’ve made up in my head.

i talk about being an idea in his if we were no longer in each other’s lives, but i don’t even want to think about how i view him. i still view him as someone who would not purposefully hurt me, even though he has time and time again. with great anguish, i think (expressed to me once in a bewildering moment of ‘weakness’), but done repeatedly anyway.

—

i don’t know if i’m just overly tired today, and thus my brain starts to find issues where they do not really exist (or at the very least, analyse things that i’d rather not); or if i’m finally hitting a wall. if i’ve done and given too much for it to no longer be reciprocated, and i’m just sick of it. the reality is that even if i do feel that way, once word from him, or a glimpse of him will make that disappear – perhaps i’m the one with no self-control between the two of us. i’m the one who can’t help myself. (maybe we just have that in common)

hearing that he thought something would have happened between us even if i hadn’t pursued him leaves me with mixed feelings: on the one hand, i love thinking that even he knows that at some point, there was bound (or meant) to be something between us; that we were inevitable; where i’m confused about is whether or not i’m meant to trust that sentiment and take it as gospel. (i really shouldn’t be taking anything that comes out of a man’s mouth as gospel, but i fear we may be past that point right now).

these are the ramblings of a very tired woman. too many thoughts swimming in her head to make sense of any of it. as my realities of my life come crashing down on me (moving, education, family responsibilities…) accompanied by unpleasant feelings (namely, shame.); i wonder if a.b.s. is losing his boyish charm due to the way he treats me, or if i’m looking for a reason to go into hiding again. i think it’ll be best to let time show his intentions and what he’s capable of doing rather than making assumptions. i just hope it isn’t too late by the time he does; for both of our sakes. we’ll both be left wondering what could of been, i another ghost in his life that he regrets after a few drinks, he the materialisation of my darkest ‘could have been’ that lingers no matter what. i don’t care to find out what that would feel like again. not with him. so i guess i just wish he’d stop forcing us there.

as it’s nearing 1 am, i know it best to get some rest. i always feel better in the morning, and i’ve got an entire flat just waiting to be shoved into boxes and moved next week (unfortunate reminder of the handful of texts or emails i’m currently ignoring because i don’t want to deal with them, ultimately making me feel worse than if i just responded). i hope he’s getting some rest, he deserves it. as do i.

“Combat, I’m ready for combat
I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?
‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies
I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

Easy they come, easy they go
I jump from the train, I ride off alone
I never grew up, it’s getting so old
Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer
I’ve been the prey
Who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?

Dark side, I search for your dark side
But what if I’m alright, right, right, right here?
And I cut off my nose just to spite my face
Then I hate my reflection for years and years

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost
The room is on fire, invisible smoke
And all of my heroes die all alone
Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer
I’ve been the prey
Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?
(I see right through me, I see right through me)

‘Cause they see right through me
They see right through me
They see right through
Can you see right through me?
They see right through
They see right through me
I see right through me
I see right through me

All the king’s horses, all the king’s men
Couldn’t put me together again
‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends
Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer
I’ve been the prey
Who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?
(I see right through me, I see right through me)
Who could stay?
Who could stay?
Who could stay?
You could stay
You could stay
You

Combat, I’m ready for combat”

(the archer – taylor swift)

— — —

13:20:

maybe it’s better we’re not in each other’s lives. it’d be easier than trying to pretend i’m enough for you, surely?

i’m too sleep deprived to form a coherent thought of optimism. it feels like you’ve already given up (i say knowing damn well there’s an unread reply to my text last night that i’ve been putting off opening), i don’t know why i’m still fighting, why i’m still trying. that’s all i ever do: try. it’s gotten us nowhere.

maybe i am better off as just a hypothetical to you. then neither of us can mess it up. we can both live in the ‘what if’ – if you even do think of me that way. i don’t know how your hypotheticals work, and if you can while also thinking of someone else in the same way. i think i’m better off as an idea. i always have been.

i got a taylor swift lyric stuck in my head i was trying to find, from ‘chloe or sam or sophia or marcus’:

“Could it be enough to just float in your orbit?
Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses?
Cooler in theory, but not if you force it to be
It just didn’t happen“

could we be friends? could i bear to be around you in group settings pretending that i don’t miss the feel of your lips on mine or your hands on me? laughing to jokes about your type in women as if it doesn’t keep me up at night that i don’t fit the bill?

i always assume that we couldn’t be around each other if we were to call things off for good, but i realise that’s for two different reasons: it would hurt to see you from a distance and pretend you weren’t mine at some point, you would be disappointed there’s not somebody to sleep with on days you want to (even just saying that feels like doing you a disservice, but it’s what everyone besides us perceives as how you view me – which hurts and i don’t think is true, but i get tired of defending).

this plagues my thoughts as i’m too sleep deprived to stop it. i think you feel like pushing me away and walking away from us when you’re overwhelmed with your responsibilities and life; this is usually the invisible result of it. this is the loss of trust and hope i experience. god knows i haven’t slept soundly when things are rocky between us since last new years.

—

i know that once i get it out of my system, i feel the exact same way about us as i always do: that i care about you, and this is all worth it. it’s just tiring to be the only one who can comfortably say that.

i suppose i’m doing exactly what i criticise you for doing, and what i said i wouldn’t: pushing you away while i figure out how i feel. i know i said i wouldn’t this time, but i still don’t know how to turn off that impulse. how to not retreat when you do. even if it is in hopes that my actions get you out of your head lon enough to form a lucid thought about me. the problem is that everytime i do, i break myself without meaning to. i chip away at my own ability to believe in us, in you. i’m glad i finally got to explain that to you this weekend; i have no clue if it actually made a difference in how you see us or not (my guess is as good as anyone’s at this point).

i have to pretend to be able to do menial daily tasks, knowing i’m not really able to think of anything else. it’s nearing 2 pm and i also haven’t eaten. the document of ‘red flags’ in my behaviour before / during a depressive episode sitting in my laptop is judging me heavily.

i need some rest. i miss things being easy between us – they still very easily could, but i can’t be the only one wanting them to be.

—

i also am aware that i’m being insanely melodramatic, but this is my blog so who cares! if i can’t be dramatic here then where can i

[side note: this led me down a whole research dark hole about hystrionic personality disorder as i was searching for synonyms of melodramatic and i’m interested in doing a lil more research, if only to gain insight on some of my people-pleasing habits]

—

i also feel a lil better after crying for a lil while writing this and find myself remembering that there is indeed hope for the things that i want (a.b.s.) and that my own sleep-deprived, upset brain, is not always a reliable narrator (blah blah blah, trust my feelings, classic things). later in the day, i need to prepare for the full moon tonight.

i tend to throw the word ‘love’ around very freely, and i think i always have in relationships. i wonder when the first or even last time i was truly in love was. things with a.b.s. are far too confusing to even take into account right now, so this post will operate in a pre-march 2023 world; one i didn’t know things could be so messed up in, yet so marvelous most of the time.

i know exactly what’s brought on this lil introspection into my approach to romantic relationships: the date of december 2nd. it always has. it’s almost ingrained in my head as the day that i realised somebody else saw a point in a romantic relationship with me (slightly ironic), that i was finally ‘worth it’ after waiting ‘so long’ as a teenager. my first real kiss and subsequent first relationship that i thought would be perfect and everlasting. under a streetlight near the school buses. i actually don’t remember anything about how it happened except how giddy i felt to finally be wanted by someone. huge smile on my face when i came home, excited to share the news with my mum (and arline) who then asked me if i had a boyfriend – something i wasn’t even sure about at that point until speaking to louis later that evening.

i have a photo of me a day later, december 3rd 2015, with perfect hair i put far too much effort and care into, a smile on my face; and while i usually find it so endearing and cute, i’m upset looking at it now. teenage me didn’t realise that all of the insecurities i had been harboring up until then had amalgamated into an insecure, anxious person, that had difficulty trusting romantic partners. a reoccuring theme in my life. i’m either too trusting in romantic relationships, even when the person hasn’t given me reason to be (josh comes to mind as an example, although i suppose most of that mess was me pretending to be somebody i wasn’t – the original creation of ‘ari’ as a name and attempt to reinvent myself as somebody more nonchalant and carefree); or i am never able to fully trust them (louis and james are two very different examples of this – i was an insecure teenager in one, and an adult getting taken advantage of in the second; which frankly did not deserve my trust anyway). i wonder where a.b.s. sits. somewhere in the messy middle. my trust in him exists, although wavering, but that feels slightly warranted with the uncertainty. i often wonder if i could ever fully trust him (i’d like to think i could).

the only partner i haven’t mentioned in my analysis so far is of course patrick. the person who made me feel wanted from the beginning despite the initial weirdness of our one-night stand, encouraging me to sit with him in our lecture together the next day, and keep seeing each other after. somebody who always involved me in plans and wanted to be around me because he enjoyed my company and prefered having me around – something i’m not sure i’ve felt since. his first relationship, a man on the spectrum who although claimed he didn’t really understand feelings, was always very good at taking care of mine. i always wonder if my positive accounts of him can actually be trusted, as i do remember feeling quite alone in that relationship, from beginning to end. i think it just always felt that i was more ‘fucked up’ than he was and almost felt guilty for it. i had this person in front of me trying their best, and it wasn’t enough, and i didn’t even know why it wasn’t. i think if i remove covid-times from my mind and our relationship, the first year or so was borderline perfect, perhaps tainted in my memory by my own stupidity (why i felt the need to be flirty with other people just to prove to myself that i was attractive, i’ll never fully understand). it almost never felt like i deserved him, but that at the same time, our relationship wasn’t fulfilling enough for me.

i always say that if it hadn’t been for covid, we would’ve stayed together, most likely for our lives, but i think that may just be me looking at it with rose-tinted glasses, knowing that my interpretation of it doesn’t matter now that it’s so far in the past. i remember feeling hesitations about our relationship even before lockdown. i remember feeling like i couldn’t ever express my feelings to him in a way that made sense, because i couldn’t identify what they were, or formulating them in a way that he understood (unsure if due to the autism or just differences between us). i think i’ve rewritten our story in my head to cope with how i feel i treated someone who deserved much more. although i know i was a good girlfriend and did everything i could for him, i think part of me knew that i wouldn’t feel fulfilled enough for my entire life with him. i knew i was partly playing the role of trophy girlfriend, which i actually enjoyed, but that i didn’t feel i could reveal the worst parts of myself – that he had put me on a pedestal because of how perfect i’d always pretended to be, and i knew i couldn’t live there forever. [i also always to take into account the fact that i stopped enjoying sex with him for a good while before we broke up, unsure if it was because i was unsure about my feelings and felt disconnected, or if it had to do with him]. i hope he never reads this. this seems like such a bleak outlook on a period of my life that i view as the best one i had the joy of experiencing, with fun friends and attending cool events and feeling like i had everything i had ever dreamed of (in terms of popularity). i think it just always felt like it was made to crumble. it was a world i was not meant to be in, but got the pleasure of experiencing. he was always a little bit out of reach, despite being mine.

i think that he plays on my mind so often because he’s the person i feel i most fucked things up with, and regret it in some way. not because i wish things had turned out different, or i wish the breakup hadn’t happened, but rather i just feel like he deserved better from the entire experience than me. i remember crying to the phone to each other about how much we cared for the other and could reach out at any time to deal with this, but also being worried about seeing him in the street, or even embarrassed about seeing any of our mutual friends. it shouldn’t have been over christmas break, but rather back in person when he returned from london. a hurried process by my desire of attention from other people – a reoccuring theme in my life, especially at that time. i’d like to think i’m much better with it now. somehow remaining ‘faithful’, even just with flirting, to a.b.s., a man who has expressed he doesn’t want a relationship with me. it’s funny how things change over time.

—

when a.b.s. talks about having someone stuck on your mind and not being able to forget them, i find myself wondering if telling stories of my past would help the situation, or just make it worse by leaving the door open to lingering feelings. the truth is that i have a bit of care in my heart for anyone who has ever been in my life and left a positive mark (most have despite how things turned out); and although i wish them the best, they are currently only figments of my memories. i no longer know these people. i am no longer the person i was at the time that things were the way they were. things are just different. although that is sad – that’s the reality of it. i’m not who i was at the time things were going so ‘perfectly well’, and neither are they. holding on to shadows of people that no longer exist doesn’t help. i can appreciate their influence on my life at the time, and mentally thank them for it and wish them the best, but i do not wish to return to that time or reintroduce them into my life. i know better. my life now is better, as it is currently happening and not just a byproduct of my imagination.

while i could talk about this for quite a long time, it’s 1pm and i find myself antsy to get on with my day in a productive way. i may write again later.

i reckon i’ll have a whole post to write and post tomorrow morning about how much i love the month of december, as it truly is my favourite time of the year.

tonight however, i’ll focus on the (boring) details of my recent feelings and events in my life (how very bleh). i feel like i’m fighting between two impulses in a very ‘should i stay or should i go’ by the clash, or ‘stuck in the middle with you’ by stealers wheel, or even ‘with or without you’ by u2 – way. one is to believe in how i feel about a.b.s., and the possibility of us; believe that we’re two people who have a lot going on in our lives in term of responsibilities (mine more self-imposed than his), but both thinking this could be it. the other is to protect myself and flee. the other is the well-known flight instinct that makes things difficult.

i truly do think that he’s in his flight instinct, something he enters every so often when things get too overwhelming for him, and he wants to retreat into his shell (turtle-metaphor?) until he feels safe. i very much tend to do the same thing. isolation and protection are things i know all too well and search for far too often. whenever it’s going really well between us, i also start looking for reasons for it not to. while his is focusing his mind on other ‘hypotheticals’ (aka women), mine is wondering if i can really do the whole ‘push-and-pull’ thing forever – what my brain fails to understand though is that if we were to do this properly, that would no longer be a factor.

i think i got some form of reassurance about some of the things i was feeling? (reassurance being used in the absolute loosest way possible) hearing that he doesn’t think he would date her either should be affirming in some way – i’m fairly certain he meant it to me, and i suppose that in a way it is. it’s vocal (and not just essentially made up in my head) confirmation that i’m not the main factor in us not being together – an idea that seemed almost non-sensical to him when expressed earlier, like he couldn’t understand why i would think this entire situation is based on a shortcoming of mine rather than putting the blame on him. the answer to that is far too obvious (but also in the same vein non-sensical to him) – i care about him too much to do that (also very strongly linked to my own insecurities and lack of confidence, but we don’t have to delve into that right now!).

in truly hilarious, ari-fashion, listening to dramatic music in the uber (like adele for some reason) followed by a self-assuring mini-walk next to the river (aka i walked one block before i realised how cold i was and was thankfully accompanied by music that made me feel more sure about myself); i feel better. he’s right in saying that there was no ‘satisfying end’- no real conclusion. but it’s because there isn’t really one. ‘with or without you’, which i thought would lead to an even more intense spiral, helped soothe my brain, if even just for a moment.

i don’t know what the answer is, or how to make this situation better – i don’t know if the right thing is to blindly trust this man, despite having given me reasons not to, or go against my gut instincts and protect myself. in the shortest time, the ‘today’, the ‘tomorrow’, the ‘this week’; this situation is just going to suck a lil bit. he’s overwhelmed with things going on in his life and is unable to think clearly or think about romance as a priority. i have much more important things i should be focusing on but am unable to as i just keep thinking this situation over and over in hopes of finding a solution – there isn’t one.

—

“Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I’ll wait without you“

““Sleight of hand” because he feels its like this girl, or perhaps God, is dangling the one thing he wants right in front of his face, but as soon as he reaches out to grab it, it is yanked away. Therefore, he continues to wait.”

“A twist of fate is when something doesn’t go the way you anticipated for it to go, or the way you think it was meant to go.The whole idea of the two of them not being together seems like a “twist of fate” to him. He feels as if they are meant to be together, and some unexpected twist of fate is keeping him waiting.” [stolen from the explanation of the lyrics]

“My hands are tied
My body bruised
She got me with
Nothing to win and nothing left to lose”

“The lyric “my hands are tied” emphasizes that he’s tried all he can but he’s stuck, committed, and can’t alter the predicament. It also provides context for the bruises–they’re not a byproduct of any activity in which he’s an active agent. Rather, the tied hands are meant to show he’s merely a passive recipient of these metaphorical beatings.”

“In the end, neither person wins in their endless conflict and argument.”

—

oh you know shit is about to get real multifaceted and complex when i start inserting song lyrics with explanations. listening to songs about how difficult relationships or love can be sometimes make me wonder why the fuck we put ourselves through this – something i’m sure a.b.s. is also wondering this week. why the hell would we choose to subject ourselves to difficulty and pain when it’s much simpler to remain sheltered within our own lives, focusing on other aspects that seem easier. the truth is that there is too much to gain to ignore. not just from a procreation level, but from an emotional standpoint. people are difficult and annoying and complex and change, and that’s why relationships (romantic or not) feel so fulfilling. good relationships make the pain when things are difficult worth it, because you know it will go back to being good soon. ‘holding out’ for more simplicity. waiting for the right timing.

i keep making the decision to wait for things with a.b.s. to become what i think they should be. i don’t have to, nor am i being asked to by him (who i think frankly would much rather not have that ‘pressure’ on him), but that’s the reality of it. i think this will be worth it. if it isn’t, then it’ll serve as a lesson to myself, something i’ll grow from and learn. but i’m fairly positive i won’t have to see it that way.

i’ve never met anyone that made me feel the way a.b.s. did when i first met him, nor anyone that still does right now. even when things are terrible and confusing and painful, being around him makes things feel easier. seeing him, talking to him, feeling him, make things not feel that complex for even just a moment.

the only real answer i got tonight was that he doesn’t think he wants a relationship (something we both already know, and i feel i’ve taken into account when considering ‘us’); and that the conversations over the weekend didn’t feel like they had a ‘satisfactory’ end, aka an answer (i think that’s how i somewhat felt as well, and felt kinda comforted in hearing him vocalise). truth be told, in an objective sense, terrible conclusion to a conversation i hoped would be reassuring about the situation between us! i think i realised that very quickly on my way home, causing the emotional uber ride (i wonder how many random drivers have seen me have a mini existential crisis in the back of their car lol, quite a few by now i’d think).

thinking about it more clearly (time of the month be damned), it’s nice to have reached the level where he feels comfortable communicating this to me. frankly this weekend past felt similarly. terrible and confusing and shit, but at the very least open and honest between us. i think that can only be a good thing.

i realise i sound a tad bit delusional talking about this in this way lmao, but i think you sometimes need a bit of blind optimism in certain situations to get through them, and i think now is a good time for it. we both agree that trying to stay in each other’s lives, but apart romantically / sexually doesn’t really work, and that we want to stay in each other’s lives, but he’s not in the place to want a relationship (nor am i frankly). i have zero clue where that leaves us at all. besides the mutual knowledge that we want to be in each other’s lives. call me a naive idiot, but that’s a huge thing.

he works in ‘hypotheticals’ and ‘what-ifs’; with no clue that my brain is the homeland of entire fantasy worlds revolving around myself and other people. i find myself having to be the level-headed and realistic one when it comes to our relationship, when i know damn well that i am consistently living in my head, creating new situations as thoughts form. if he’s copernicus discovering the heliocentric model, i’m hubble discovering that other galaxies exist beyond our own.

—

this is quite all-over-the-place, but i suppose that’s a great reflection of my thoughts at the moment. at least for the time being, i trust my perception of us. i trust that this is worth it, that he is (i’m quite sure of it actually). i’m hoping he’ll realise the same once my little astronaut returns back to earth (a disgustingly sweet metaphor i used to describe his lapses of faith in me over this weekend). things will work out the way they are meant to 🙂

i wish i was an idiot with a perfect body. i wish i didn’t pick people who are bound to hurt me, and let them do it anyway. i wish things came easily to me. i wish i were enough.

i continuously set myself up for embarrassment, like a clown performing in front of an empty circus. i advertise the event and beg people to attend, but a sad clown is not a sight one wishes to see. watching the clown try to entertain the crowd – and fail – is not how one wishes to spend their evening.

it’s not that a.b.s. thinking of someone else is a direct result of my not being enough, i am aware of that. my fault lies in letting him treat me the way he is. over and over and over and over again.

“what are we doing here if you’re thinking of someone else?” a question that has no possible positive answer. a question that even posing is humiliating. a situation that continuously grows more disgusting and perverted every passing day. how little can i possibly mean that even while in front of him, i’m not the one occupying his thoughts.

mind you, if i were to pretend to be an innocent bystander, the answer as to why it’s happening is quite simple: unresolved feelings getting brought up as we get closer to the last time he saw her, coinciding with a period of time where things between us are getting better. a simple showing of unsettled emotions brought up by fear. a fear of letting go, an unwillingness to. a terrifying idea that if he were to chase something concrete and realistic, it could fall apart in front of his eyes and he would have only himself to blame.

the irony is that the actions taken cause the exact result that terrifies him.

that is an objective view where i attempt to remove myself from the equation and pretend i am not affected. the reality is much worse. the reality is that i have to continuously face my own fear of not being enough every single day that i continue to entertain the situation. whether or not i’m correct doesn’t even matter. i exhaustingly and dauntingly have to place his feelings above mine and pretend that i’m immune to my own thoughts and emotions. pretend i’m a perfect person with unwavering trust and support.

i think the worst part is that i’d be willing to try. put on the mask. do my best. act like an intoxicated admittal of my not being enough, even just in the moment, for the evening, doesn’t affect me the way it does. doesn’t make me want to stop eating until i’m a perfect body to use. doesn’t make me wish i could change everything about myself to just be enough to somebody for once. pretend i can look at him and not feel disgusted with myself for letting him treat me the way he does, even if he doesn’t mean to.

thinking about her, as much as the concept hurts, isn’t even actually the problem. letting it dictate how you treat me that evening, and then half-assing an honest conversation about it is the issue. the disrespect in actions. the indifference towards how it’s affecting me.

i can explain as much as i want how i feel, but words not cared for fall on deaf ears. it’s hard to ignore how embarrassing everything feels. it’s hard to trust my feelings over my head.

—

i’ve been posed how and why i put up with this close to a million times, including by a.b.s. himself, and the answer seems so simple: i believe that he’s a good person, no matter what. that still isn’t particularly up for debate at the moment – i know that he is.

the truth is that he’s also reckless and selfish. he’s always put whatever he thinks is best for himself first. he’s dedicated to his own cause. he’s committed to his own mind.

while none of this is particularly truly negative alone, it’s a battle for one trying to dedicate themselves to the same cause. it’s trying to play a game where the rules and end goal can change at any single moment with no warning or notice. you’re not even aware of the change until you’ve somehow lost. “trying to solve a crossword and realising there’s no right answer”.

—

“i’m being overanalysed” – you’re being seen by somebody genuinely trying to understand you for once in your life and are terrified of them actually doing so. terrified of letting someone in for fear of them seeing you for who you are and leaving because they don’t like what they’ve found.

i so badly want to prove you wrong. prove that i could love you and we could be happy the way that you are. that the person you are at the moment is enough for me (the way i so desperately want to feel that). you won’t let me.

pushing me away for the millionth time is starting to work. i’m starting to forget what i’m fighting for. i know what it is: us; you. but i can’t be the only one doing so for the rest of our goddamn lives. i can’t let myself be that unhappy forever.

—

i don’t even know in what capacity he thinks of me. ever really. i’m not privy to that information. i’m privy to the moles on his body and the feel of his hands on me, but not to anything scary. it’s easy to bear one’s body when you’ve grown used to it – a hedonistic few hours that one can brush off or bask in the memories, it’s a lot harder to be honest and try to work things out.

i don’t know if i serve as an evergrowing nuisance that won’t take the hint, or as something more sincere and positive. i don’t even know if i want to know.

knowing that ‘there’s no one else’ mere days ago felt so comforting and reassuring. a ray of hope, a single flash of honesty and willingness to build trust back. though not a real setback or lie, this feels like a punch to the gut (pardon my unwillingness to be more eloquent). this just feels like no matter what, i actually will be second best to someone else with him. something i even vocalised and was brushed under the rug (as most things usually are). these feelings will remain words written on a screen, not worth vocalising as they scream of vulnerability and honesty that he’s frankly gradually losing access to. it doesn’t feel worth it to rip open all of my own scars in front of him in hopes of help in helping them. it just leaves me feeling all the more abandoned and worthless.

this isn’t even about me as a person, and i just can’t help feeling like it is. like if i was somehow better, this wouldn’t be a problem. if i was prettier, thinner, smarter, funnier, just anything else, i would at the very minimum be able to keep his attention on me for the evening. i’m not. i couldn’t. though not a personal failure and rather one on his behalf, it fucking feels like one.

it’s 5 am and i won’t be able to just stop thinking. alternating between feeling like i could be doing more (although never knowing what that actually is) and wondering why the hell i put myself through this embarrassment time and time again. allison is asleep on my arm and all i can keep thinking about is that i don’t even merit a real conversation about any of this over the sake of ‘just wanting to go to sleep’ and ‘makes more sense’ – it’s a load of bullshit.

it feels like that’s all it ever is. bullshit. one thing said at one point in time without thinking that i ponder for days. words lose meaning if there’s never any thought behind them. unspoken words echo in the ones spoken about types and attraction to others and yet i’m supposed to rely on ‘my own interpretation of things’ and belief in what we have. fucking bullshit. it’s a load of crap. i’m told i’m too emotional and rely on my feelings, yet also made to believe it’s best for me to trust them.

i just wish this entire thing were easier. it would be so simple for it to be. open communication, even when it’s shit; actual thought behind actions and words to show feelings, consistently. all he would have to do is try – something i know he’s capable of. it kills me that he doesn’t think i’m worth it. poisons me from the inside and affects everything between us. even tonight. doesn’t think i’m worth an actual conversation or apology. like i’m not deserving of it.

i don’t know why i subject myself to everchanging expectations and rules. it’s supposed to be because i think the end result is worth it. which i do. i’m just wondering what role my self-respect is meant to play in all this, and where the fuck it is as of late. this just feels like the latest pie in the face that i, the clown, take for entertainment purposes. i’ll never get an apology from the one organising the act for the degrading performance, for that would simply be too much to ask for. i’m starting to wonder if i even deserve it as this point. i’m the one who keeps subjecting myself to this.

taking a step back only proves that i do have the capacity to abandon him, something i don’t want to do. i have no clue how not to view this as something that makes me have to put my walls back up. i don’t know how things like this exist in parallel – how i can protect myself, as someone fucking has to, while also being open in trying to ‘fix’ things. i don’t even know what the hell there is to fix. i can’t force someone to not feel or think the way they do, nor do i want to. but i also don’t know how i’m suppose to react to him telling me that what i’ve been fearing is true, without an actual apology or even proper conversation about it.

—

as i close in on 45 minutes of spewing thoughts onto page (or well, pixel), my kitten begs for cuddles as she gets tired of watching words imprint themselves onto the white of my screen. and i grow weary of continuing my endless tirade. there is no right answer. it is my choice to accept the situation or not. any anger has just turned into sadness, which has in turn been expressing in writing and left behind only fatigue and unease. i suspect my sleep will be about as shit as this post.

this is one of those times, more than ever, that i wish i had the capacity to fall asleep as my head hits the pillow. i must instead face the painful task of trying to relax my brain and body enough to find sleep – a skill i am usually lacking. i just wish things were different.

allison has abandoned me for the silly toy i got her in the nearby room, making noise that irritates me every single time. as much as i wanted to be alone (and frankly, still do as the entire evening feels like a failed humiliation ritual), the room feels cold, the bed feels empty. sleep calls to me like a siren leading me to my impeding doom as i suspect that even if i am able to calm my body down, my subconscious will find a way to make apparent all that is wrong with myself and the situation. even when things are good, i have dreams that make me wake up, clutching the fibers of reality as i attempt to piece together what words i’ve actually heard before and what parts my brain has made up. i’m borderline scared of what its plans are for me tonight. i hope for a dreamless, empty ‘night’ sleep.

it’s been almost a month since my last post and truthfully, the good things haven’t come my way yet. in a similar vein, the loneliness persists. it’s been a month where i’ve felt myself fightingfor relevance in everyone’s life and losing.

i find myself unable to ignore harsh realities i’m facing, despite having pushed them aside for most of this year. four months ago i stopped feeling like m.c. was my friend. eleven and a half months ago a.b.s. chose to fly halfway across the world to see another girl whilst he was ‘seeing’ me. it’s been weeks since i’ve felt like somebody actually wants to spend time with me and makes an effort to do so. i’m trying so hard not to feel abandoned by everybody, but it’s not working.

i am wondering what i’m doing in london as of late. i feel myself wasting my days away in a city that used to mean the world to me. in a city that represented possibility and a new me. truth is that moving from a city to another doesn’t change the fiber of your being, and i’m still the same fuck up i was.

i’m still messy, and an emotional disaster, and have difficulty with friendships and people. i still wake up alone every single morning and only have myself for warmth in the evenings. i still can’t eat properly.

as of late i find myself unable to stomach anything without comparing myself to the girls that a.b.s. has actually held romantic feelings for. skinny, beautiful women that probably walked around without an obvious care in the world, effortlessly cool in the same way that a.b.s. is. women that don’t walk around constantly wondering how their actions impact the impression others have of them and in a neverending (and unachievable) pattern of having to beg people to care. no that’s far too much to deal with for him, and seemingly for any man. you’d want someone to whom being cool, funny, smart and pretty comes naturally. not somebody who continuously strives for it. not me.

i can delude myself as much as i want that people do care, but the reality is that their actions don’t reflect it. i suppose it never has. a.b.s. hasn’t actually expressed an excitement to see me since july last year. the reality of that is so depressing. that he used to reach out to see me during the week because he genuinely wanted to. becaused he missed me. now it’s a cycle of unanswered texts and empty excuses that lead nowhere. and i’m a goddamn idiot.

every time he makes the tiniest effort i sing praises of adoration at the mere thought and let myself fall back into our drunken routine. him pretending to care and me pretending to believe him.

i’m quite positive i will bring me out of the funk i currently find myself, by some big change or just a wanting to, but it sucks right now. it feels terrible to be reminded every single day that no matter what i do or how much i try, i cannot will people to care about me and should instead settle for pretending to ignore that all people do is put up with me. that is what it has felt like my entire life, and probably what it will continue to feel like.

i’m a great reserve. always have been and seemingly always will be. never in the forefront of people’s minds unless i force myself there. to be put up with but not desired.

(of course my first thought is about the potential difference if i were skinnier, because i’m diseased and it never really goes away. it festers in my mind and literally poisons any food i make.)

good things are coming my way. i just need to continue being patient.

this feeling of loneliness isn’t forever.

i’m not sure why i let myself suffer the way i do. why i let myself face rejection time and time again, never really learning my lesson.

it’s akin to a child touching a barrel meant for curling hair: they’re not in charge of knowing whether it’s plugged in or not, unsure of its temperature until they touch it. when they burn themselves, that’s a lesson to not touch it again.

i’m a small stubborn child that can’t help but reach for it time and time again, pushing my luck as much as possible. hurting myself over and over again, with no one there to help with making the pain feel better after. everyone is sick of me touching the barrel and don’t know why i do it. everyone is (metaphorically) yelling at me to stop touching it.

i deserve a lot better than what he’s putting me through, but even more than that, i deserve a lot better than what i’m putting myself through. ruining perfectly good days by trying to include him when i know he doesn’t care. ruining my good mood and any real hope of feeling good about myself.

i don’t know what i’m constantly competing for. i don’t know what i’m fighting for anymore. a dysfunctional situation where a man can only fit me into his life rather than want me in it? who would want that for themselves? who would let themselves have it? why would anyone do that to themselves?

why do i do it to myself?

in the hopes of things suddenly changing completely? in the hopes of him developing or realising feelings? i know that i think i’m a work in progress, but i deserve far better than that. better than what he’s currently able to offer.

the hard part is that i know how good it could be if he would let himself care about me. how good it is when he does. but the reality is that he can’t bring himself to do it consistently, and the consequences on me aren’t fair.