Dark apartment, Tulsa, barely 9 am and already well on its way to this 103-degree day.
My brain hurts, my eyes hurt, my heart hurts, and everything in me feels tired.
I am prone to bad relationships. They are mostly the only kinds of romantic relationships I've had.
As I age, I understand better the "whys" and "hows." I see the traps I set for myself.
I see the pattern of mistakes and lousy brain wiring and misguided desires and all the other pitfalls and pratfalls that come from being the confused and wounded and horny mammals that we are.
It's kind of amazing that any of us manage to make it.
Or maybe I only hang out with depressed and dysfunctional people. I don't know. There are people in the world that seem happy. Maybe it is just us.
She and I have had a series of long and emotional conversations. Those kinds of honest heart-to-hearts where you somehow feel further from each other than when you started.
Last night's lasted from like 8 or 9 at night until nearly 1.
I can't recap it all (I can't even remember it all) but we both had to retreat to separate corners like battered boxers after the bell more than once.
It isn't her fault. Or mine. It's not that one of us is toxic. It's maybe that we both are. Or maybe we are only toxic to each other.
Or maybe it is all my fault. I know my sins. They are many.
Perhaps this is some necessary part of the whole thing. Where we face our attachment styles and emotional baggage and maybe learn to let some of that go. Then we grow into each other like grafted trees.
Perhaps this is an emotional prison that we both choose to stay in because it reminds us of the emotional prisons in which we were raised.
My perspective is too close to see. I go back and forth like a pendulum.
I want to escape. Even for a little bit. Just for us to clear our heads.
I miss my adopted family in Maryland. I want to be there for a spell. I decided last week to talk to her about it.
But the same day my car again started making terrible (and expensive sounding) noises. And the research job I was doing fell through.
So I'm broke and broke down and broken.
And we are stuck with each other and codependent on one another and in love but in agony and swallowed by other stresses and the whole weight of the world.
And she makes her art
And I read my books
And the birds sing
And the grass grows
And people are born and die every second all over the world.
8:58 a.m. - 2022-07-23
Recent entries:
Not Dead, Just Not Writing Much - 2022-12-14
Still Unbroken Up - 2022-09-20
Pray for Rain, Dig a Well - 2022-08-29
The Things That Can Only be Whispered in Darkness - 2022-08-16
Lot of feelings, lack of words - 2022-08-09
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