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twisted-petal · 7 years

Text

Death Continued: Part 5

... "And in case you're still reading... You weren't hiding anyone... When I warned you about my ability to figure shit out, I was giving you the chance to come clean... I told you I just wanted to know. We could have worked something out. Something more pleasant. And YOU... I can't even be vague enough on here for you. You should have listened before...

Gods I could go on forever... Just to finally be heard. For my words to finally be understood? It's not as though I ask for much action, or even a physical presence... A voice, an ear, or some lines of text.

Just stop fighting me... Stop lying... Stop fucking flirting, and stop trying to fix me! I just want some fucking honesty and support! I try so hard to do whatever I can for any of you who come to me. I have sacrificed a great deal for some. The least you could do is humour me for a bit...

/vent

Going to make this last bit quick; FB keeps trying to crash my phone and not posting this, and making me rewrite shit and I need to stop c-c

If you really need to comment or ask a question or whatever, I just ask that you do so in private and just be nice. Please? I've been avoiding social media and my phone in general (save those I felt I could trust and felt safest around...). I don't want to deal with any more crap. I just want to feel normal again, and a lot of people I've been going to or who have come up to me have not made that any easier. I can only hope I've made it clear to any of you, personally, that I have appreciate what little you were able to do for me. Especially not knowing the details about him or anything else that happened last year. I was so determined to fight everything without being too much of a burden, by trying to be sneaky in my search for help.

I didn't want pity! I thought that the less you all knew, the easier it would be to find a friend willing to give me the time, and once things went south it made things worse... For myself and those involved. I hope that it doesn't stick to any one of you, now that I've left you alone or you've left me behind. I get it... Still don't like it. Doesn't make it any less my fault.

If I get any of your usual responses I *will* get pissed off. Don't want to deal with any shit... I've had enough..."

The feedback from the was... Mostly undesirable. I got the responses I specifically asked not to receive, was promised more attention from those who lost contact with me and never received it, and all males tried taking advantage of my "vulnerability". I'm not an idiot...

On October 28th, I went to a Halloween party with my landlady and a friend of hers. She was on her phone the entire time, her friend vanished to go hit some dabs or whatever-the-fuck, and a gal mistook me for an ex's ex (I don't believe they're together) as we wore similar outfits (I saw her go by once that night), and so smacked my ass. Discomfort and awkwardness around. We were at Johnny B's, which added to the anxiety as I worried I would run into a different ex: If I am not friends with my exes, I am more or less terrified to run into them.

I wanted out of here... Around 1:30 I was convincing Corey to come take me home, as I was wearing a corset and fluffy skirt, shoes with heels (hate heels...), it was cold, and my ankle didn't let the cold or the shoes (I was wearing my cosplay from RTX). He finally agreed to come get me, and I invited him in to come chat as we used to - we were not together.

We fell asleep after I curled up to him, still not feeling all that great from my trip to Portland, which I told him. He rarely stayed a whole night, let alone not demand sex. I woke up to him yanking my pants down...

I have been called a liar, a whore, and accused of begging for attention by calling rape. Gods forbid I seek attention or support from those around me at all... I have lost many friends over this.

March 18th it was brought to me attention (in an irritating and vague way) that he had been arrested for sexual abuse. Because of my cowardice, he attacked someone else and on March 8th he was admitted to the local jailhouse. There are now three counts under his name. I don't know if it's from the same gal or others speaking up, but I wish I had the courage and finances to add to his sentence... His bail is set to $50,000 with no release date posted.

I have grown colder and bitchier than ever before, trying to explain to some why this is the case and faced with zero patience, tolerance, or support. Through everything, I have been alone.

I smoked heavily after this, trying to forget. Cut myself off from everyone around me. Eventually I started reaching out to those I was most comfortable around and now they are gone. I am too broken to them...

Puppy insisted I stay with him for a week up in Portland. My stay started off terribly... There were mobs going around to prostest Trump: Breaking windows, starting fires, vandalizing and shit, and he lived a few blocks from where they rallies took place. I kept him up-to-date on when my bus left and when I would arrive - texting him several times as the bus entered the city and I grew closer to the station.

Waiting outside the station, bums who frequented there would ooze closer and a couple confronted me. He assured me he was on his way with his friend (who I was eager to finally meet). Discomfort and anxiety increasing as I was surrounded by these strange people trying to talk to me, I finally made my own way to his place; Puppy's place wasn't all that for from the station, just across the street and over a small bridge.

He finally made it to the station just a few minutes after I got to his complex - he was furious. I was scared and alone... He knew when I would be there! I kept him up-to-date! Why wasn't he just there...... Why would he leave me waiting like that... Alone...

I very much enjoyed the short time I was able to spend with him... He had to work, but we had a couple days to venture out. He also forgot what day I was leaving... It felt like he wasn't at all pleased with my visit... I was mopey and slow from not feeling well, and I wasn't smiling much... I completely destroyed my time with him...

I spent my days watching videos to help me smile more, reading one of the books I got at Powell's, and cleaning his apartment. I swear that boy hadn't cleaned since the day he moved in. It was the least I could do for him - I wanted to feel useful again and care for him as he cared for me... I wanted him to feel relaxed and comfortable and come back to a clean environment. I wanted to see him smile... His smile is my absolute favorite sight, and he always hid it from me because he doesn't like his smile lines. I adore him. Every inch of him... He was my muse, my comfort, my confidence, and my joy.

I don't need him for these feelings, but he was a major source of these that I greatly welcomed - I appreciated his presence far more than he could ever understand or that would matter to him... I wish I could have done the same for him... He's so hard on himself... If he wasn't such a poop-face. But it doesn't matter... He has made it perfectly clear that I am too broken for him... Saying he just wants to focus on himself, only to inform me he's found someone he wants to get close to... Always when I start smiling inside again... I truly wish him luck in finding a mate that will allow him to see all the amazing colors in life that he's missing. I wonder if he ever figured out what those new colors I showed him meant... I hope they weren't bad colors...

- Sidenote: He told me once long ago so I can't remember the name or details exactly, but he sees moods/feelings as color: Synesthesia, I believe. I looked it up to be sure, but there are several different types of color associated sensory conditions, and I don't know all he experiences.... Sensory experience* sounds much better than "condition". Wiki says it's a "phenomenon".

Honestly... I could write just as much as I have now about all he means to me and my interactions with him on the two and a half years I've known him... So...

We visited Powell's, checked out the art store near his place, and took a bus to the comic and pet shops he goes to. I picked up a few books and comics that I very much want to complete, and I had such a great time being out and about with him. I had shut myself away after what had happened... I'd been feeling so dead inside. Still a bit of a shut-in, but I'm finally getting out more to get some things done.

Living with who I am... I continue to struggle with feeling at all decent about myself... Corey being in jail has made job searching easier, as I no longer live around the area he frequented and there's no chance of bumping into him, but my legs have grown weak since my accident at Michaels and it has made me a tad lazy... It doesn't take much anymore for my ankle to start hurting, and my knees have grown a tad wobbly. My confidence is still shot, depression less crippling but still heavy, and I'm just not the bad-ass chick with the smile that brightens any room, anymore...

Actually... There are so many more details I want to get into - of my recent days and those from events I've already described - but I feel I've said enough... I have no one to talk with and I just wish to speak. For someone to finally listen to me and sympathize in some way. To not be spoken to in a textbook, regurgitated manner. I miss having someone to connect with... A back-and-forth conversation about anything: troubles, success, interests, displeasures, complains, approvals - everything.

Ducky told me long ago that it is important to vent... Before he and I got together I bottled up everything and he saw how it was destroying me. Those years before him have been condensed and intensified this year and a fouth, with all that has happened in this short time... There is so much left unsaid.

Today (upon writing this) the family gets together to pick what they want of Grams' old possessions... I have been drinking this afternoon... I'd picked up drinking so I could grow sleepy enough to pass out as my roommate games late into the night and I cannot find sleep. Today I drink for stress and anxiety and sadness. This will not become a habit; I have always been good at avoiding being consumed by addictive substances.

As much as I repeat to myself on a daily basis that I should not exist, I will live on and continue to fight. And no; my roommate does not comfort me, console, or converse with me. He is just there. Sharing a room with a dude suuuuuuucks and I am glad I did not accept his confession. He has proven to be disgusting, wasteful, and inconsiderate. I am still thankful for the invitation to stay here, though. It's just difficult and tiring...

고맙습니다, thank you.

([I hope I wrote that right, I'm still learning and have found too many ways to say the same thing... 고마 ㅝㅛ?)]

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