honestkillers

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apollo is the deepest of all the cuts @care-of-lines 

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The green means go flag waved ferociously back and forth starting the next qualification round. 

[Too] busy eyes with preoccupied focus on the finish line do not see that it is red. 

Flexing at the gate with the OTHERS [names for the bodies that eventually fall and die their death to her and quickly swept into a compartmental wasteland] all yearning and laser focused on the devil in that red dress.

Meet the Others. Not the past winners. Not the last winner. They blew out all four tires, limped their way to the pit crew that had always been relied upon, and ate cold cut sandwiches.

Triggered manifestations breaking the primary color mold:

Red 

Green 

then 

Blue

skies open up only to affirm the incalculable end.

Just embrace the Simple Start, Stupid.

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no care

why care

careful around that rose 

thorns

care of lines

but not of boundaries

care for us

with

careless contact

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“She is difficult” - Every. Body.

wore at me. 

war at we. 

wore at we. 

war at me. 

world war we. 

set us free.

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**Diamond is Tennesee’s Therapist of approximately two years as of 2020**

**Pammy is a very close, ride or die friend of Tennessee since 2016**

Diamond - 

I woke up this morning with certain words echoing in my head “Iʼve reverted back to old coping mechanisms”. I took out the letter Texas wrote to me and those very words were written on the page.

I cannot do anything or say anything to Texas or anyone in our lives to have her stop. Itʼs a secret. Itʼs not mine. Itʼs not my place.

“Please stop. You are SO loved. I HOPE you already have and are starting to get some peace...by piece...by peace”.

A writing she shared with me a few days ago that she wrote after her own therapy session. Her words. Texas really is one of the quickest, smartest and dang funniest people Iʼve ever met - not many people can or have, but man she challenges and most times rivals me. She DID. Man. ThAtʼs hard to write. But I AM HOPEFUL. For the first time in my life. In A World of Possibilities...

[SIDEBAR re “PeAce by Piece by PeAce” - clever]

It should be noted to you, Diamond, that I received this piece of writing via email from Texas this past Sunday (she was away for her Grannyʼs funeral) - She sent It After getting texts from me while I was in what I will call for now - A “break moment” - I thought it was A panic attack. Thatʼs all Iʼve ever known to call it - I had to name it SOMETHING. GOD I WANT TO CRY. I Am choking back tears as I��write this. I was in the middle of a “BREAK” of uncontrollable anger and rage and spiral - And part of me was cognizant and watched it from the outside. Even SOBER I COULD NOT STOP IT. I just couldnʼt do anything to stop it. And Holly and Justin witnessed it this time, not Texas. The logical mind and part of me that held on so long - MY WHOLE LIFE - Had finally completely broken this past year and I was powerless. 

I had never been to this place before. I watched it happen and destroy and I COULD NOT STOP IT. I AM NOT that person but I AM that person. I hate seeing what this did to Texas. I hate what it has done to me.

Me Me Me. Right?

[END SIDEBAR]

God I am so sorry. On my hands and knees save me sorry.

I then in a flurry, per usual, started a rabbit hole of google research. Very aware that:

SHE IS NOT MY PROBLEM.

She never was a problem.

She never was my problem.

She chose to be my girlfriend, love, and partner.

I AM THE PROBLEM.

Those words as I woke - That rabbit hole of quick research - thoughts and conversations and pieces flying through my head now in a fucking flurry.

BPD.

It all led me to remembering a book that I took from mine and Pammy’s House last year and brought to mine and Texasʼ. (Yeah, I see that sentence) I remember Texas saying she wanted to read it and to bring it home with me.

I did think library - but I knew I would write notes all over the inside.

I did think about my bank account - we all know thatʼs not a current option.

So I did break my word - I texted Texas (with HOPE more than anything) and asked her to leave it outside on the edge of the porch for me to scoop. She put it on the ledge. And quickly texted me that she did.

Thank you, Texas.

“I Hate You, Donʼt Leave Me”

Jerold J. Kreisman, MD, and Hal Straus

How did I get here? How did this PIECE come full circle? Why did Texas want to read this book? For her? For me? For both of us?

I just put a NAME to the PIECE of me that NEVER MADE SENSE. 

My whole fucking life. My whole life

BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER.

I am crying. Holding back tears And still crying. THIS and my WHOLE LIFE made sense in a flooding instant. Texas and I made sense - No wonder we kept seeing all the amazing pieces right there but just couldnʼt find a common language. I DIDNʼT KNOW. I really never new.

THIS IS ME.

So far, just from the start of reading the book I gained:

It happened early in my life - it usually happens when a family background is marked by alcoholism, depression, and emotional disturbances - A SPLIT.

Then my parents died. And I continued on drinking, using the “blood money” (thatʼs what I call the inheritance I BLEW bc I never wanted the money - I wanted them alive) to fill voids and just get by...day by day, year by year. I never had to be accountable. I never had to figure it out.

Then I met “15” - my nickname for Texas.

I just keep crying. I just keep reading. I need to read all of it I need to learn. I have lived like this for 43 YEARS. I have so many questions. So many things to learn. I have a HOPE for ME now.

Texas - I have said far too many “Iʼm sorryʼs” to you. You didnʼt deserve being in any room with that EVER. I want to throw up just feeling it all hit me. I never ever wanted to scare you or make you sad. I hope you have some peace back in your life. That never should have been taken.

Texas - Thank you. You changed my life. You make me smile. You are special.

You are love. I miss your hug. I miss you.

Thank you for being THE ONLY ENTITY MY WHOLE LIFE that made me want to be better FOR ME.

Made me want to stop drinking.

Made me want to verbalize a promise and work every day to keep it.

Made me want to commit.

Made me want to be accountable.

Made me finally self-care and drink water.

Somehow you and me and life led me to this mornings wakeup - to Sheriff Gearyʼs.

BEST AND WORST DAY.

Piece by Piece.

I am not a narcissist.

I am just mentally ill. Fucking Crazy Pants.

I have BPD. Perfect. Woof.

If I had never gotten the wake up call SLAM that made me stop drinking.

[Wait. No. No. NO. 15 CANNOT be gone. What the FUCK is happening]

I never would have witnessed that same out of body insane uncontrollable rage - through the eyes of true loss at my own hand - like I did Sunday in front of Holly and Justin. I never would have considered. I would have just continued on until the day I die never getting the chance to BE OKAY.

Iʼm excited. Iʼm terrified. I donʼt feel alone but I feel so alone. I have hope.

THE IRONY IS NOT LOST ON ME. But maybe this isnʼt a twist in the plot line. This is a missing piece - at least a big one - of becoming a whole ME.

I found her.

She found me.

She found her.

I lost her.

I lost me.

I found me.

In a world of possibilities...maybe we find each other again and for the first time as US. Two separate people choosing to share time with each other - whatever that means. And both with an understanding and common language neither of us can find right now. Man, how lucky would that be.

I can breathe. I just felt it. I exhailed. I inhaled and exhaled again and it feels different.

Iʼm going to go send have a smoke (for now - At least one nice is nice)

And Iʼm going to read this book. 

THE WHOLE BOOK. 

Chapter by Chapter. Take it all in Piece by Piece.

I donʼt know.

Does this make sense?

Am I crazy?

Haha. Oh boy. YUUUUUUUUP.

Iʼm absolutely out of my damn mind

But at least I am not alone and I have a chance to have a life I deserve filled with all the GOOD-GOOD.

I thought about it. And I was too caught up in surface of the idea & the just plain funny of it honestly - As I have been with everything.

We All know exactly how caterpillars fall from trees - even with all those legs. You have to dig deep, look back and really understand where that caterpillar has been in its life. Some caterpillars hit the ground - sometimes it doesnʼt matter how many legs they have, they fall. I just hope the caterpillar that I am gets to truly be a butterfly someday.

Always,

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**This email was sent to me approximately two weeks after a 14-page letter was given to me about why things weren’t working but to keep hope. She gave me that letter at my therapists office - what I come to find out was our last day together as a couple. I was told to not respond to her letter or to this email or any of it - I never got my opportunity with clarity and proof of change**

**It should be noted that my nickname is Pants and hers is Fifteen as we continue down this rabbit hole of silent crazy**

Tennessee,

Being called a liar and dishonest is one of my biggest fears. I think it's because I try so hard to be authentic and strong within

anything I try to do.

I know in my heart I'm not a dishonest person. I'm not a liar. I'm able to lay my head down at night knowing that. I work hard. I

am good. I take care of others. I love real hard.

When we are faced with this fear, and confront it we can fight or fly or handle it with grace.

Ugh. Maybe I'm doing all three, I don't know. There is no trophy for not knowing what to do the mostest.

My intentions are my feelings, my choices are my life. My actions are to be held accounted for. I spoke to myself long and hard

and kept thinking "if we can just get through the end of this year, things will change. Things will be better. Work will come,

space will be had. Habits will halt. The missing piece will be found, the fighting will stop and we will just as happy as we once

were. 2020 vision. In a world of possibilities. Lemon squeezes."

I realize now that the best and only time to take actions is in that moment you don't want to. To be more honest with yourself

and to really really think about what you want. Like my granny said, look out for number one. Then your family. Then everyone

else.

I wasn't doing that because I was hoping and holding on for love. Love that continuously hurt me. Love that burned like a raging

fire but was also burning my forest. Love that lifted me so high then watched me fall over and over. Love that turned me into an

angry monster. Love that kept love hostage.

but there is love.

so much love.

like I have never ever had before.

Piece by peace.

Piece by peace.

Piece by peace.

We just had to find the missing piece. We had to find it in peace. I had to. I need to. I still need to.

Puzzles that are bought at goodwill are not for the faint of heart. Pieces are always going to be somewhere else. Notice, they

are not inherently lost, let's be clear: a puzzle that ends up at goodwill never knew its destination anyways. Pieces from the

corners, will probably be there but the meaty ones with jagged edges that make the picture whole, the very last piece you look

for...will not be there.

And man it will piss you off.

You will look under the table, under the rug the table is sitting on, in between floorboards the table and rug are sitting on.

Nooks and crannies that this piece just HAS TO BE.

Piece by peace.

Maybe this is it.

HAS TO BE.

That jagged meaty piece, the only missing part of your puzzle, aint even at goodwill.

It's probably at your mammas' house, or in your daddy's basement. Maybe, I reckon, but who knows.

Why on earth would you ever buy a puzzle from the goodwill?

Why do us southerners say "the" goodwill?

Pretty certain it's just goodwill.

Don't call me a liar, when when your puzzle practice was from Target.

Why accuse me of CHOOSING to be dishonest, such a specific threat-- to want to be a liar.

You changed my life for honest Love like a wrecking ball. I caught it. I rode it.

Before you, I didn't realize I was from the goodwill and I may never ever find that missing piece.

Dammit. I tried, and if that makes me a liar so be it.

You can't return anything you get from the goodwill. You can only donate it back, or throw it away.

I didn't know I was from the goodwill.

Piece by peace.

Peace in not finding the piece.

Hope, when you do find it, it ain't in your daddy's basement, or in your mammas house.

Hope when that piece shows up it's the right puzzle.

Hope that you keep looking for that piece, because it really does have to be somewhere.

I am not a liar for hoping that piece wasn't in my mammas house, or my daddy's car or your backseat.

I am honest in hoping it was right under our noses the whole time, but the only way we could find it is if we found peace.

Peace by piece. Building that puzzle, I never knew was from the goodwill.

It's not a treasure hunt for a puzzle piece, it's a head hunt. I don't think you will be able to rest until my head is in your lap, on a

golden plate, with a birthday candle in my ear hole, with you refusing to make a wish and blow it out because you don't believe

in the smoke after you extinguish it.

I am not a liar, I am from the goodwill.

And that's ok.

its my favorite place to get pants.

- xx

Sent from my iPhone

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We donʼt hit ourselves

We donʼt hurt ourselves

We hold each other so tight the broken pieces come together

We are not broken

We are not bad

We are not dumb or stupid

We are love

We are like

We are good

We are kind

We matter

We make mistakes

We are human

We walk the same line

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I tried for 1/2 -n hour to cuddle or just be close to you. 

I miss the feeling - yes almost constantly - when you just feel present or have your head in my neck or touching hands. I donʼt ever get to choose that moment. You always allow it to happen.

When I attempt to get close with you or as close to sexual as I feel after being turned away all the time with you, I get shut down again and it makes my chest and heart and head actually hurt and ache. 

Iʼm not overly sensitive - Iʼm human and it hurts. 

And I feel like Iʼm not anything you want.

You hit me.

You stripped yourself naked and yelled at me as if I wasnʼt even me.

You scared me.

And all of it hurts. To watch to feel. To hear.

**This was probably the first big instance of childhood trauma and abuse rearing it’s painful past upon both of us. What transpired could very well break a heart right into a million pieces - managed to destroy two that very much had their eyes closed to their realities**

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