(Apologies for length and my persistent abuse of poetic license...)

Quote:
"The ancient Greeks saw the future as something that came upon them from behind their backs with the past receding away before their eyes. When you think about it, that's a more accurate metaphor than our present one. Who really can face the future? All you can do is project from the past, even when the past shows that such projections are often wrong. And who really can forget the past? What else is there to know?" - Robert Pirsig


Fuck you mom, and the mental illness you rode in on...

You stole my life from me...

Why the anger now? Why out of the blue?

[This is where the psychosomatic physical response overpowers me... I start to think about this; I start to type and global fatigue sets in. I've just had two cups of coffee, I slept, roughly, 7 hours last night and right now, in this moment, my whole body wants to sleep... I'm sure I'm not the only one that goes through that.]

I'm 31 years old. I realized that, for the first 20 years of my life, I learned very specific things about living/loving and about reality. I spent the next 10 years reinforcing those corrosive lessons; I lived the only way I knew how.

Now - I look back over my life, I analyze.

I realize now just how much I carried her legacy. I behave(d) like her in so many aspects of my life.

While I have a list upwards of 40 examples - there is one, particularly, that has pervaded my life in such a manner that very important relationships are affected...

Most people, average people, consider it difficult to separate love from sex or vice versa... I never understood why this was difficult for people. Furthermore - I came to realize that I don't understand why I don't understand why people think it is difficult.

If you love someone - set them free. Even if they are not trying to leave. Especially if they are not trying to leave; and never, ever, get too close to them.

I realized that, long ago, I severed the connection because it made sense to me to do so and now, now I have the opposite difficulty that most people have - I have a very difficult time joining sex and love.

I remembered then... Yes, I had the abuse... All the physical, the theft and destruction of my possessions, throwing me out into the cold, coming home from junior high school and finding my clothing and books in garbage bags on the porch, my mother leaving her dildos around the house, my mother bending me over her bed so that she could clean my ass...

And all of this has its own world of hurt and awfulness to get through.

But it was when her affairs started; I must have been 8 when she told me the first time, "do not tell your father..."

When I was a teen and my father beat me to the operating table and consequentially was arrested and not allowed to come to our house again - the affairs were easier, open.

Our house, me alone with my crazy mother, became a revolving door of shitty drunk men who would come over, have sex with her and leave. Just years of this.

If you love someone - you sleep with someone else.

The thing is - my girlfriend of 3 years and I - we haven't had sex more than twice in the past year...

The triggering event for this rant is...

The local barista where I get my coffee is a busty Turkish girl with an accent and an addiction to belly dancing... We're all friends with her and I can't even deny the fact that she's been a very active player in many of my dreams at night...

On New Year's Eve this barista and I were at the same party and she, in her broken English, tells me how much she loves me... Stands from her seat, grabs my head and her tongue goes straight into my mouth...

I'm a fairly self-controlled individual and was able to push her to arms length and talk to her instead of letting anything go further.

The conflict within me was like trying to hold back the tides of a tsunami with a million tiny hands... I could really easily see myself having sex with her.

I told my partner about what had happened, we struggled through it, everything is fine.

And then it all hit me - anytime I have ever had a relationship with a girl where my emotions for her escalated to something even resembling love - our relationship crumbled because I lost all of my ability to be intimate with her. There is no exception that I can think of. And in the same respect - my most active periods in my sex life where when I had a running, so to speak, friends with benefits.

I look down at my lit cigarette; smoke pouring in and out of a cup of rum, I feel the high of the amphetamines I took this morning and the whole world quakes, I sneak into the bathroom, afraid of what I'm going to find.

Cold feet on the tile floor. Above the bathroom sink. In the mirror is my mother's seething joker smile and fanged teeth laughing...

I think of loving someone and being loved by them, I think of sex with women I don't love...

My mother breathes out her Carlton cigarette smoke through her nose and smiles with her teeth clenched, laughing, she says, "you get to have neither..."

And I grind my teeth, shut my eyes and whisper back, "I'm glad you hanged yourself..."
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"There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." - Leonard Cohen