Okay, I gotta calm down.
Im steaming like road kill fresh off the wheels of a 250 miles per hour god knows 800 horse power race car but its slowly going away.
It doesnt make sense. He woke me up in the middle of the night, actually just before dawn, and demanded if I loved him or Ethan, or Ethan or him, I cant remember the order, doesnt matter, does it? Hed read my emails because Id used his laptop to surf em sometime, and I thought I told it not to remember my password and logged out, but apparently it did remember my password, so he read my emails. Well, hed only read the ones to Ethan. They werent anything, really. If they were, I wouldnt have been so stupid as to surf them on any other computer but mine.
It was like he was trying to pick out everything in the email that said, hello, I love my ex boyfriend, not you. Only if it wasnt 6 in the morning, and he wasnt doing it without my permission (I show him emails from my dad sometimes; Id show him emails from other people, if he could understand, and if most of them werent so boring in the first place). Only if it wasnt that, may be hed see that Im not as simple as a hey baby, how you doing, blah blah, think about the time we were backpacking around Vietnam, that was nice, wasnt it, kiss. All those emails are so shallow sometimes I dont know why I write them. But well, its just something you do to keep in touch, and its not like I dont like doing it, Im still fond of the guys I used to date. Theres no reason to shut them out just because you got attached, thats ridiculous. Not so much because, one day.. may be just may be if this doesnt work out.
I dont think like that. If this doesnt work out, the first thing Im going to do is turn gay and live with my Gwen in Canada if shell have it. Only I know shes not really lesbian, and neither am I. But I dont think Id like living on my own, and after R, shes the only person I know I can talk to and never get bored with. And Tori, of course. Certainly. But shes too young to go anywhere yet.
I dont know whats going to happen in the future, and as far as Im concerned, I dont really give a shit. You gotta be real disillusioned to think you can map it out in a life chart timetable thing and have it all just so. Some people manage it, I think theyre pretty sorry creatures. I know Im going to write a book, may be two or three. And thats as much as I know. Im going to write a book, and Im happy having that one ambition. And Ill paint and draw and do some other stuff, but I dont know what they are exactly. It doesnt matter. Thats a lot of stuff to do for the next few years, its all I ever really wanted to do with my life since I was like, really little. So.
Okay, now hes come in with my coffee, and he looks so sweet and sorry that hed done it, and I know I really shouldnt make him feel any worse. Although a little part of me wants to, because I hate being accused of something Im not guilty of (and I dont give a flying fuck when Im accused of something I am, because I know it was wrong when I done it, and I didnt give a fuck and know I never will. Thats why I went ahead and dunnit anyway).
I dont understand it, but whatever. I know, silently I accuse him of things I never tell him. One thing, the same thing I accused my ex-boyfriend of. The only thing I ever accused people of, but never actually tell them, and wish theyd hear. My dad, my ex-boyfriend, Martine, and Richard. Only they cant hear. They cant. Its not possible to hear it when the woman you love tells you to stop accusing her of things shes not doing, of being unfaithful in her heart when she isnt, because that is the only thing they have all done to make me eventually give up and pack it in. And theyre all sorry for it after that and so am I.
I left my dad because I couldnt stand any longer the sort of shame he forced me to feel. There was one thing I couldnt live with, and that was not being able to be the daughter he wanted. Although I know deep in my heart theres nothing wrong with me, and that I cannot change, because I am the person I should be, I am trying to be the best I can, and thats what everybody should be. I dont believe in being the best, because thats not possible, thats being disillusioned. But paradoxically, attempting at being the best is the best anyone can do.
I know what I am, and Im brutally truthful to myself about everything. And when Im lying to myself, I know Im lying to myself. And when I tell an ex lover I love him only because he loves me, and because he wants me so much, I dont make any pretence at loving him just because I love him. No point. If hes not an idiot, hell realize it soon enough, and I wont be doing any favours to myself or anybody by lying. Because Ill have to pretend. And I hate pretending.
Ive never accused anyone, unless they accuse me first. And silently, I am saying, keep on reproaching me for things I havent done, keep on saying Ill leave, so theres no point. So Id better leave now. And I will leave. I will leave eventually.
Unless you change of course. Unless I can see you change, and you trying to change. And your insecurities getting better, until one day maybe you love me without being worried that I will leave. And you stop worrying about the future, because its not there for you to worry about. Nothing is, they just are. And the future, I dont believe, is full of bad tidings like they make you believe in Church, or at school, or where ever. Because if the present is sweeter then the past, then its as possible for the future to be sweeter then the present. And theres no point worrying about it. Its up to all of us to make it sweet whatever may come with it.
Im steaming like road kill fresh off the wheels of a 250 miles per hour god knows 800 horse power race car but its slowly going away.
It doesnt make sense. He woke me up in the middle of the night, actually just before dawn, and demanded if I loved him or Ethan, or Ethan or him, I cant remember the order, doesnt matter, does it? Hed read my emails because Id used his laptop to surf em sometime, and I thought I told it not to remember my password and logged out, but apparently it did remember my password, so he read my emails. Well, hed only read the ones to Ethan. They werent anything, really. If they were, I wouldnt have been so stupid as to surf them on any other computer but mine.
It was like he was trying to pick out everything in the email that said, hello, I love my ex boyfriend, not you. Only if it wasnt 6 in the morning, and he wasnt doing it without my permission (I show him emails from my dad sometimes; Id show him emails from other people, if he could understand, and if most of them werent so boring in the first place). Only if it wasnt that, may be hed see that Im not as simple as a hey baby, how you doing, blah blah, think about the time we were backpacking around Vietnam, that was nice, wasnt it, kiss. All those emails are so shallow sometimes I dont know why I write them. But well, its just something you do to keep in touch, and its not like I dont like doing it, Im still fond of the guys I used to date. Theres no reason to shut them out just because you got attached, thats ridiculous. Not so much because, one day.. may be just may be if this doesnt work out.
I dont think like that. If this doesnt work out, the first thing Im going to do is turn gay and live with my Gwen in Canada if shell have it. Only I know shes not really lesbian, and neither am I. But I dont think Id like living on my own, and after R, shes the only person I know I can talk to and never get bored with. And Tori, of course. Certainly. But shes too young to go anywhere yet.
I dont know whats going to happen in the future, and as far as Im concerned, I dont really give a shit. You gotta be real disillusioned to think you can map it out in a life chart timetable thing and have it all just so. Some people manage it, I think theyre pretty sorry creatures. I know Im going to write a book, may be two or three. And thats as much as I know. Im going to write a book, and Im happy having that one ambition. And Ill paint and draw and do some other stuff, but I dont know what they are exactly. It doesnt matter. Thats a lot of stuff to do for the next few years, its all I ever really wanted to do with my life since I was like, really little. So.
Okay, now hes come in with my coffee, and he looks so sweet and sorry that hed done it, and I know I really shouldnt make him feel any worse. Although a little part of me wants to, because I hate being accused of something Im not guilty of (and I dont give a flying fuck when Im accused of something I am, because I know it was wrong when I done it, and I didnt give a fuck and know I never will. Thats why I went ahead and dunnit anyway).
I dont understand it, but whatever. I know, silently I accuse him of things I never tell him. One thing, the same thing I accused my ex-boyfriend of. The only thing I ever accused people of, but never actually tell them, and wish theyd hear. My dad, my ex-boyfriend, Martine, and Richard. Only they cant hear. They cant. Its not possible to hear it when the woman you love tells you to stop accusing her of things shes not doing, of being unfaithful in her heart when she isnt, because that is the only thing they have all done to make me eventually give up and pack it in. And theyre all sorry for it after that and so am I.
I left my dad because I couldnt stand any longer the sort of shame he forced me to feel. There was one thing I couldnt live with, and that was not being able to be the daughter he wanted. Although I know deep in my heart theres nothing wrong with me, and that I cannot change, because I am the person I should be, I am trying to be the best I can, and thats what everybody should be. I dont believe in being the best, because thats not possible, thats being disillusioned. But paradoxically, attempting at being the best is the best anyone can do.
I know what I am, and Im brutally truthful to myself about everything. And when Im lying to myself, I know Im lying to myself. And when I tell an ex lover I love him only because he loves me, and because he wants me so much, I dont make any pretence at loving him just because I love him. No point. If hes not an idiot, hell realize it soon enough, and I wont be doing any favours to myself or anybody by lying. Because Ill have to pretend. And I hate pretending.
Ive never accused anyone, unless they accuse me first. And silently, I am saying, keep on reproaching me for things I havent done, keep on saying Ill leave, so theres no point. So Id better leave now. And I will leave. I will leave eventually.
Unless you change of course. Unless I can see you change, and you trying to change. And your insecurities getting better, until one day maybe you love me without being worried that I will leave. And you stop worrying about the future, because its not there for you to worry about. Nothing is, they just are. And the future, I dont believe, is full of bad tidings like they make you believe in Church, or at school, or where ever. Because if the present is sweeter then the past, then its as possible for the future to be sweeter then the present. And theres no point worrying about it. Its up to all of us to make it sweet whatever may come with it.
megumicharlie:
I feel what you feel. The two paragraphs in the middle that describe the difficulty being perfect for an asian father when you are of a newer generation. Their standards are so high and crazy they aren't i dodn't even consider trying to meet them any more. I love the bitter-sweetness of the lover part right under the 1st paragraph. They sort of tie together in that these men love you, in different ways, but you cannot love them back in the way they want, under their conditions. You are very in touch with your feelings and that is important for self-confidence (i don't need to tel you abut that miss "suicide girl"). Dig your work. megumi.