Monthly Archives: March 2008

Therapy in 140 Characters or Less

Twice in one day? What?

Five years ago, I wrote that hope was the mind­killer. It can be a euphor­ic feel­ing, but as the result of sev­er­al bad expe­ri­ences, the poten­tial for dis­ap­point­ment out­weighed the gain.

My way of deal­ing with dis­ap­point­ment was to assume the worst. It made me com­fort­able. There was cer­tain­ty, and I could move on.

So I had learned nev­er to hope. This is how I changed. This is how I adapt­ed. A defence mech­a­nism I used to pro­tect myself from being hurt. I had been fine with this, until today.

Perhaps it was hav­ing Julie tell me that I’m bet­ter than the atti­tude I have, or the life I lead1, but I’m filled with hope again. For once, I dare to dream of some­thing greater.

I want it and hate it at the same time. It gives me courage, but throws my world into uncer­tain­ty, like I’m set­ting myself up to be hurt again.

But Julie’s strong enough to believe in me and stub­born enough not to give up, because I’m not capa­ble of believ­ing in myself.

And maybe that’s enough to break the cycle.

  1. It made me real­ize I need some­one else to tell me cer­tain things, because I can’t see them for myself. I hate the fact that I can’t be strong enough for myself. I prob­a­bly should­n’t. It just means there’s some­thing else about which I’m being too hard on myself, which I’ll have to tell my psy­chol­o­gist about any­way. []

Mute And Muse

Assume as nec­es­sary.

Why is it so polit­i­cal­ly incor­rect to show your feel­ings? Would it be inap­pro­pri­ate to tell you that I’m in love?

That your dim­ples are like hinges that purse your lips in the most adorable way, and I want to kiss them. That I want to have you here next to me, to feel the weight of your body press­ing against mine. That I want to smell you on my fin­gers, I want to fold my sheets around you, I want to feel your curls under my hands as I lath­er and rinse.

Because I’m sick of being polite and I’m tired of pro­pri­ety.

So let’s deal with this attrac­tion. Let’s not ignore what’s between us.

All Work And No Play

I’m sit­ting on my chaise in the dark, Macbook Pro in lap, cur­tains open to the snow out­side. Every now and then, the wind catch­es a loose patch of snow, and it sounds like sand drag­ging along the ground out­side. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re sit­ting on a beach at low-tide under a night sky.

I haven’t done this in a while.

The show is over. There’s sup­posed to be one more inter­view next week, but at least I can breathe now. I’ve final­ly had time to clean the house, which is prob­a­bly why I feel com­fort­able enough to write.

There are icons for movies on my desk­top, ones I’ve start­ed watch­ing but haven’t fin­ished, because I haven’t been able to emo­tion­al­ly invest in them. I did, how­ev­er, get a chance to watch Cidade de Deus which is the best movie I’ve seen in months, and Constantine, pure­ly for the Tilda-Swinton-as-angel fac­tor.

Tilda Swinton in Constantine

I real­ized that I like girls who look like boys. I hope this does­n’t mean I’m gay.

On a sticky, I seem to have writ­ten “a small pair of skis”. I don’t remem­ber doing this, or what for. There’s also a phone num­ber there with no name. I want to call the num­ber to find out who it is, but I’d just hang up if some­one answered and that’d be rude.

I should call Dan. I should reor­ga­nize my pho­tos for appro­pri­ate back­up. I should be prac­tic­ing Tai Chi. I should be hav­ing more fun. I should be fill­ing out my thought record work­sheets.

But right now, I should real­ly be in bed.