myflyingwonderland-blog

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The cracks are beginning to show

and I don’t know what to do.

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I will push you away so slowly that you won’t notice you’ve fallen off the edge of the cliff until you the hit the ground.

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I am not a very self-aware person. I read people the way I read books, but I have never been great at reading myself. And this has always been at the expense of my own happiness.

I try to logic my feelings away. Of course I don’t care about something-- and then days later, I realize, wow. I actually care a lot. And by then it’s too late.

And by then I don’t want to vocalize what it was that I wanted. Because I don’t want to want that. Because it’s weak and needy and vulnerable. And I am mad that you didn’t just know to begin with. And then I start wishing you were better than that... and that’s a slippery slope.

I just want a partner. I’m tired of being a teacher.

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Honeymoon Phases, Compartmentalization

One of my biggest flaws is one of my biggest weaknesses. I’m practical to a fault. I will take my feelings and box them up when the moment calls for me to focus on the moment. But in those quiet reprieves from people and the world, my true feelings come out. And yes, we can talk about it. You can reassure me about it. But I can’t rationalize away the hurt. I can’t rationalize away the pain. I can’t take my compartments and burn them. I have to take care of the housekeeping, and once I un-lid this particular box, my walls just feel like they’re crumbling and I’m breaking, fading, like a giant stone column suddenly cowed by a gust of wind, collapsing into a million tiny pebbles.

This is how I feel now when I think of how you misspoke. I felt nothing at the time. I think my brain didn’t know what to do with it, and the best thing was to feel what I wanted to feel, which was nothing. But that is not me. I am emotional. I am vulnerable. I hurt. I am hurt.

It’s not even that action in of itself that upsets me right now, but everything it led me to feel. I compartmentalized it, and have now discovered that underneath it are so many other things I had never noticed before, collecting dust. But there they lie, waiting patiently to be discovered.

This is the first post of this kind that I have written about you. This is the end of our honeymoon phase. 

I feel like closing myself up to you so you can’t hurt me, and I can’t help it. I am not ready to be vulnerable.

Honeymoon phase, you were great while you lasted.

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Life is short, don’t waste your time on people who do not care about you.  Webtoon Instagram Facebook

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Second Best

“People will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”

I know you did a lot for me. Objectively, you did so much for me. Not as much as I did for you, but still, a lot. Yet the only thing I will walk away from is feeling second best. Feeling like a second option. Feeling like you only want to explore our love when this one falls apart. Feeling I was never enough for you, and never will be.

This isn’t my first rodeo. I don’t believe in second chances anymore. I know what happens here. I know the insecurities that follow, if we ever tried again. I know I’ll never feel good enough, that I’ll always be wondering if there is something else out there that you will find that one day might be better than me. You are too much of an opportunist, and you do not know how to appreciate what you have. Even when things are good, when you should just be happy, you’re worried you’re settling. I don’t want to be that girl. That girl who has to reassure you. That girl who will put herself out there and work to keep you. I’ve been there, done that, and in the end, I gave too much and didn’t get enough. And then one day he fell in love with me and I fell out of love because it was a one way street and I didn’t even realize I wasn’t getting what I needed.

This was us. When I look back, you never gave me anything that I needed. Maybe I had trouble communicating what I needed, but you didn’t try very hard to figure it out. I know what it feels like to truly be wanted for who I am, but you, my friend, only wanted me for what I gave you. And I’m not giving anymore. 

I deserve to be more than just second best. If not now, then never. It’s selfish of you to try to hold onto me. A narcissistic desire to hold onto love. You don’t care how I feel. I see this now.

I would like to say that I do not miss you anymore, but the truth is, I do.

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why you should never spend all your time wondering

"I spent 2 years hurting a good woman by staying with her but never fully choosing her.

I did want to be with this one. I really wanted to choose her. She was an exquisite woman, brilliant and funny and sexy and sensual. She could make my whole body laugh with her quick, dark wit and short-circuit my brain with her exotic beauty. Waking up every morning with her snuggled in my arms was my happy place. I loved her wildly.

Unfortunately, as happens with many young couples, our ignorance of how to do love well quickly created stressful challenges in our relationship. Before long, once my early morning blissful reverie gave way to the strained, immature ways of our everyday life together, I would often wonder if there was another woman out there who was easier to love, and who could love me better.

As the months passed and that thought reverberated more and more through my head, I chose her less and less. Every day, for 2 years, I chose her a little less.

I stayed with her. I just stopped choosing her. We both suffered.

Choosing her would have meant focusing every day on the gifts she was bringing into my life that I could be grateful for: her laughter, beauty, sensuality, playfulness, companionship, and so … much … more.

Sadly, I often found it nearly impossible to embrace – or even see – what was so wildly wonderful about her.

I was too focused on the anger, insecurities, demands, and other aspects of her strong personality that grated on me. The more I focused on her worst, the more I saw of it, and the more I mirrored it back to her by offering my own worst behavior. Naturally, this only magnified the strain on our relationship … which still made me choose her even less.

Thus did our nasty death spiral play itself out over 2 years.

She fought hard to make me choose her. That’s a fool’s task. You can’t make someone choose you, even when they might love you.

To be fair, she didn’t fully choose me, either. The rage-fueled invective she often hurled at me was evidence enough of that.

I realize now, however, that she was often angry because she didn’t feel safe with me. She felt me not choosing her every day, in my words and my actions, and she was afraid I would abandon her.

Actually, I did abandon her.

By not fully choosing her every day for 2 years, by focusing on what bothered me rather than what I adored about her, I deserted her.

Like a precious fragrant flower I brought proudly into my home but then failed to water, I left her alone in countless ways to wither in the dry hot heat of our intimate relationship.

I’ll never not choose another woman I love again.

It’s torture for everyone.

If you’re in relationship, I invite you to ask yourself this question:

“Why am I choosing my partner today?”

If you can’t find a satisfying answer, dig deeper and find one. It could be as simple as noticing that in your deepest heart’s truth, “I just do.”

If you can’t find it today, ask yourself again tomorrow. We all have disconnected days.

But if too many days go by and you just can’t connect with why you’re choosing your partner, and your relationship is rife with stress, let them go. Create the opening for another human being to show up and see them with fresh eyes and a yearning heart that will enthusiastically choose them every day.

Your loved one deserves to be enthusiastically chosen. Every day.

You do, too.

Choose wisely." -D.J Redman

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Clarity Day

Today, I am having a clarity day.

I wish I had more of these days. I feel clear. And happy. And not tired or drowsy. I feel okay with who I am, and how things are right now. There is no haze blanket. Light, free. I feel like I can take on the world, and it will all be okay. 

What’s different today? I had wine last night. I drunkenly vented for over an hour on the phone to someone I felt really wronged by. And I heard a lot of excuses and words that didn’t really help and only made it worse. I slept exactly 5 hours. I’ve been awake for over 6 hours and it’s only lunchtime. I ran 7 miles this morning. But I can think about the sad parts of my life without grimacing. I accept it and it’s okay. It’s not so bad. 

When I feel like this, I can deal with anything and it doesn’t touch me. Why can’t I feel like this everyday?

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Hello old friend. I hug you close to my heart the way a prisoner hugs the bars of her cell. I watch and sit back as you, The Broken, settle yourself in the cracks of my chest and expand and contract, sending tingles down my spine and all across my knees that threaten to crumble at every single pulse of electricity.

I know I should just exercise patience. Use patience to know that this too shall pass. That I will either get this that I want, or get something else entirely. But I am tired of pretending that I don’t hurt. I am tired of smiling. I am tired, tired of putting up a facade. Let me drop my tears around my friends and hide in between the walls until I am ready to come back out again.

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Can't Light a Fire with a Damp Match

I’ve been here before. I’ve been the woman who waited. And I realize now that a person with real self respect just does not do that. 

When you lose me it is not because it was just that easy for me to lose interest. When you lose me it’s because you did not fight for me, and I deserve someone who will fight for me, not someone who isn’t really sure what he wants. Been there, done that baby.

https://markmanson.net/fuck-yes

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`Alcohol buzzing through my veins, I pulled the covers up around my legs and reached for my phone. Were it not for the liquid courage (or liquid lack of judgment?), I wonder if I would have been brave enough to press the dial button on the phone. Our initial conversation was civil, amicable, and dare I say, quite normal. A couple tinges of cheerfulness. It almost dissuaded me, but it wasn’t enough. I think you could have said so many things, out of sheer luck, and I would have changed my mind. I’ll miss you. I wish I could come with you. I love that you are... I’m sorry that... But the lack of such things is what pushed me to tell you, hey, I have something I need to talk to you about.

The words came out like lava from a volcano. Slow, creeping its way down bit by bit in its quest for mass destruction. I think we should go back to being friends. You were silent for the longest I have ever heard you be silent. You did not interrupt me as I barreled forwards, saying everything yet nothing. I peeled back my first layer, and showed you my cards, the magic trick of my heart.

You had little to say. In shock and caught off guard, I caught a rare version of you that wasn’t put together, well-spoken, and in many ways, less genuine. We hung up, and I sat there for a while asking myself what I had done.

The last few times I did something like this... I felt a huge sense of relief. A sense of calm. I felt sadness and loss but no regret. This time, all I wanted to do was take it back. In the past, I would have let my sense of my pride win. Or my fear of the person on the other end of the line chiding me, poking fun at my vulnerabilities, lashing out from the hurt. I’m still surprised at how unafraid I was to call back, to realize that I really was comfortable with just being honest and open and lay every single one of my cards out for you to see, because why not. If you can’t accept me for me, and for what I want, then at least I tried.

It’s okay to want more.

You told me that it’s okay to ask for more, that really all I need to do was tell you, but that next time I don’t need to start the conversation with such a negative note. But is it manipulative to take advantage of the fact that people do not really appreciate or try to fight for what they want until they feel the sense of losing it?

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Peace is not arriving at the place where you are no longer emotionally destroyed by love. It is not becoming so calm that you can’t feel the weight of loss anymore. It is the place where you exert your liberty to place your energy in the direction of where you want to go. It is not about how frequently you experience discomfort, but how often you are able to choose to see it without being consumed.

Brianna Wiest, https://medium.com/personal-growth/get-the-f-k-over-it-f68b733dc724#.5a9fzic12

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I need just enough emotional distance and separation for me to be able to handle the situation stably and maturely.

Sometimes I feel like there are two very distinct sides of me. One that sees everything through a very logical lens, and never gets upset or bothered by silly little things. The other notices every little look, every little neglect, every little bit of thoughtlessness, every smile.. I spend much of my time trying to listen to the former, and tortured by the latter. I want to forget the illogical lens, cast it aside to the waste basket after crushing it into a million pieces. Sometimes I get very good at it. Sometimes I am a void, feelings forgotten and buried by boolean operators and hash maps and decision trees. 

But then, fear creeps out from under. What if I become this void, and I end up alone?

I guess then I would not even have the feelings to care, would I.

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If two people who have been strangers, as all of us are, suddenly let the wall between them break down, and feel close, feel one, this moment of oneness is one of the most exhilarating, most exciting experiences in life. It is all the more wonderful and miraculous for persons who have been shut off, isolated, without love. This miracle of sudden intimacy is often facilitated if it is combined with, or initiated by, sexual attraction and consummation. However, this type of love is by its very nature not lasting. The two persons become well acquainted, their intimacy loses more and more its miraculous character, until their antagonism, their disappointments, their mutual boredom kill whatever is left of the initial excitement. Yet, in the beginning they do not know all this: in fact, they take the intensity of the infatuation, this being “crazy” about each other, for proof of the intensity of their love, while it may only prove the degree of their preceding loneliness.

Erich Fromm, “The Art of Loving” (via misswallflower)

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It is amazing what lack of sleep can do to a person. I am exhausted and want to shut my eyes for hours. I am tired of what I do, tired of this cycle, just tired, and I’ve stopped seeing that it’s worth it. Someone tell me why it’s worth it, and if it’s worth it. Someone tell me what I’m fighting for.