If I were a vengeful ghost, I'd be my own first victim.

Patience (Musing)

I am disinclined to impose any sense of obligation upon anyone.

I need to reassess and explore the implications of my most recent self discoveries. I need to know what's changed or, rather, what it means to my future.

I believe in open and honest communication. To let someone in, first I need to have the answers to any relevant or necessary questions. To let anyone in, first I need to understand what that even means.

I will not tether a single soul to my unknown trajectory. I'll clear myself eventually. After an extremely thorough examination.

Smithy (Short Story)

I wonder, sometimes, in the silence of my mind if all of this is truly worth it. Restless energy disquiets me but it's the silence that I find deafening. It echoes with the ghosts of past selves soundless, yet piercing, stalking the borders of my mind with as little grace as my own, more current, fumbling attempts.

I value connection but I fear to forge it. Too often my own blood is used to cool the chains and, even more often, they strain with pressure until they are ripped free of me often creating new ghosts to roam my heart. I find myself fragmented and torn. Unable to weave anything substantial from the consistently leering faces of the Outside.

I fear I was never meant to be more than this. I fear that the passive agressive demands that are made of me will only cause my strength to wither as I submit. Yet... to resist would mean to pull my chains back in - and tear someone else's soul asunder.

The responsibility should not be mine. To manage this forge alone. To monitor all that seek its wares. Yet there is no one else to take up this task and I do not have the heart to deny what comes so naturally to me. Not easily or painlessly, of course, but it is a long-engrained habit that is as natural as breath. I allow others to anchor themselves to me without thinking. I cast out my chains to support them. I barely blink anymore when they no longer have use of me and take their leave. But not blinking and not crying are two different things, and my salty tears sizzle in the heat of my forge as I brandish yet another newly crafted chain to extend outwards.

Sometimes I think I'm better off to fragment myself from the forge and observe with a detached calculation instead of inhabiting the flesh that is torn apart by the connections I sustain. But, inevitably, her strength will falter and a chain will go cold and I must inhabit myself again to warm the connection and breathe life back into the passage it marks. To ignore it would be a disservice to everything I have done up until this moment. I can no more stop offering connection to the seeking hands that grasp about the darkness than I could stop my own heart. To ignore it would be to ignore everything I wish to believe about my Self. To ignore it would be to ignore me.

So what is there to do but hope that I can reuse old scar tissue and not damage my soul in new ways. To fasten myself in to a regular cycle of anchoring and reliquishing. To try not to hold on too tightly to any one chain and to be present for every iota of pain they cause.

I'm not entirely sure I have much else.

Knowing what's wrong doesn't mean knowing how to fix it.

Intimacy (Musing)

Withholding feelings of emotional intimacy towards people (at any stage of relationship, friends included) has little to do with my trust issues and is more of a safety precaution. I have had no few personal revelations since the last time I considered myself emotionally available. I need to take the time, without outside interference or pressure, to reassess what has changed with respect to my needs and how I intend to go about future relationships. I cannot risk any set backs to my recovery until I am absolutely certain that no one can halt or reverse my progress. Once I have sorted through all of that information and made my assessments and decisions, I'll feel comfortable letting myself form deeper connections with people. Before I can let anyone help or support me ... I need to understand what that even means.

I cannot be around people who 'need to be needed'. If someone's self worth is tied into how much they perceive they are valued or trusted by others, I am not a healthy fit in their life. It's not healthy for me either. I refuse to have the stress of managing someone else's emotions with respect to my privacy. I have spent far too much time juggling that very premise between my personal boundaries and their thirst for a sense of usefulness. It is exhausting. As well, it's not at all worthwhile since I get no benefit from their attempts at assistance. Far better for me to curate my social contacts to those who will not guilt me for withholding whatever I need to. Trust comes a lot easier when not forced.

I hope when I feel prepared to let people in again that I have established stable and valuable connections that are easy to transition into more depth. The goal is for my emotional availability to matter very little in the long run. That way I feel no rush and can lay the foundation of everything that comes next thoroughly and properly.  I want to do this right so that, barring any nasty surprises, I'll have a handle on myself and my needs enough that I'll only need to seek and assert them.

I want to be in a position of relative stability and strength so that I have the option of vulnerability, instead of the necessity of it. I want to be free to choose how and who I need when I'm struggling, instead of having it thrust upon whoever's timing or proximity lines up just right. I would like to take my time. To have the leisure of not needing anyone unless I choose to.

So that's what I'm trying to do. Heal, but carefully. Patiently. And not let anyone near until I am good and ready.

Dear Someone

You are an easy person to hate.

It quite honestly fascinates me. How one singular person can be so unredeemable in my eyes that every interaction revalidates that position. Ironically, I find this useful.

You have evolved into a consistent scapegoat for my lesser self destructive tendencies. The mental equivalent of choosing a predator-infested forest over a minefield. The 'safer' of dangerous options. Disgusting, right? Such an exceptionally reductionist perspective. But, as mentioned, still useful.

My feelings for you are consistent. A weapon I can weild against myself. It's so easy. You make it so easy. The concept of you is an effective tool to manipulate my emotions. To dose myself with fear, disgust, pain and terror. Terror, because that is the strongest emotion you evoke - the most compelling.

I often wonder if that knowledge would thrill you. To know you still hold that kind of evocative power over me. Part of me hopes you have the moral fiber to be discomfited by that but, mostly what escalates my fear to terror is that, ultimately you wouldn't.

No matter what changes you may pursue in the future, I believe a part of me will always be afraid of you. That is what makes you so easy to hate. Because you deserve my fear. You EARNED my terror.

Fear & Fury. (Short Story)

I'm furious and afraid. Constantly.

It's been so long since I felt safe. I know that in order to do any work on myself I have to stop investing all my energy in keeping up my guard. But I am not safe.

I can feel them circling, the vultures, just waiting for a crack. Waiting for me to collapse in exhaustion so they can begin their feast. I'm stubbornly holding out for something... some shelter or respite or at least a glimmer of hope to give me enough of a burst of energy to find some. But nothing comes in this wasteland.

So I am terrified. And pissed. The vultures stay out of reach, and I can do nothing but watch them loom and follow me. Waiting. Always waiting. For my energy to fail. For my adrenaline to finally run dry and for me to break.

I'd kill them if I could.

Poignant Places (Short Story)

There are certain parts of this world that hold recursive storylines. Where events repeat along the same path with infinite permutations.

This was one of those such places. So heavily trafficked by common paths it had even got itself a name, 'Lovers' Peak'. As with any such location, there was some tale of epic romance in the local lore that helped seal its fate as the favoured trysting getaway.

The memories stored within the soil, the rock, the very air of this place were as varied as they were the same. New beginnings, bitter endings, sporadic encounters... the details were different but all the moments centered around love - or lust as some would have it.

It gives the air a kind of dampered electricity. Old and comforting, yet so vast as to be thrilling. The kind of energy you can almost taste, emboldening you, rushing deeper than your skin. It flows through your very veins, tracking lines of anticipation through every nerve. You fall deeper. You feel more vividly. Your senses trill in excitement.

Just like that, a new memory is formed.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow (Musing)

I am almost too easy to fall in love with.

It's not that I don't think I deserve it - I do recognize that I tend to provide people with a level of support and intimacy that is rarely given so freely. I do recognize that I care more than most are used to. I recognize this is easy to get attached to and dependent on.

But it means that I have left a trail of people unable to fully move on. I step into someone's life and if I go, they feel the lack and grasp after it.

I'm not sure if I should feel guilty that my nature is so ... enticing. It isn't fair. It isn't fair because I shouldn't have to moderate myself to avoid that attachment. I shouldn't have to consider the holes I leave behind. Especially when nothing is ever done to keep me.

I give freely, and they take freely.

So they miss me when they no longer need what I have given. They claim to love me in my absence. Love of a service is not love of me.

I give freely. I serve, freely.

And apparently that's enough to fall in love.

Investments and Fractions (Musing)

As time goes on, your mark on my life gets smaller. Fractions are fortunate that way.

But every new encounter starts over and more and more time must be spent to share a greater fraction than before.

Is life even worth partitioning so precisely? If everything is transient, investments in people are sunk costs.

I want to give freely, invest as much as I can for as long as I'm allowed. If everything is doomed to end then it would be a disservice to invest anything less than everything you can. It would be a waste of time to not let things burn the brightest for their short lives. It would be a waste to dread endings so entirely that you watch every connection fizzle and die prematurely for lack of care.

So I want to give freely. To ignore what it costs me and spend as much on as many people as I am able until they move on. Because endings are inevitable and I would rather mine be bittersweet.

I would rather mean something.

Sandcastles (Short Story)

I took the time to untangle myself from the snares placed by hands that didn't want me to flee. I took my newfound freedom and allowed it to transform how I saw the world. It wasn't long until I saw you. It wasn't long until I fell in love.

Perhaps it could be attributed to my passionate nature, finding you that is. I had nothing to do with it. Timing is by far the more likely culprit. So it is timing that I thank. For bringing you into my life. For allowing us to linger so long.

We turned to dust in my hands. Like a sandcastle, the harder I tried to make it hold its form the more it crumbled away. The stunningly beautiful castle that we had built together could not withstand the elements.

I hesitate to explore the true depths of my grief.

I hesitate because there are more things to lose than form and substance. There are more unknowns than the material of my next building project. So the longer I can take to reconcile myself with the tides, the more I can enjoy the lulling sound of the waves. The more I can collect within myself a sense of what remains once the water has receeded so that my future can be one of hope and joy instead of yet another lesson.

Cloud Cover (Short Story)

The sky was pure milk. As featureless as our relationship, an unchanging canopy of white held us to the earth.

I'm not sure why this fact is important.

However, in that moment, it was all I could think of. The enveloping presence eclipsed what had just transpired. I felt caught up in it. Transfixed by water vapour thousands of miles above me. And yet, and yet.

The sky held promise. It was pregnant with rain that wasn't yet ready to fall. As though it was telling me that I, too, could travel to shed my rain elsewhere. That perhaps now I do not have enough. That perhaps now is not the moment for the floodgates to open and release all of the moisture I have acquired through my life. That perhaps ... there will be a better place to move on to.

But move on I must.

Malaise (Reflection)

I know this will sound twisted, but it was almost easier when you haunted my nightmares. It was comforting, having something tangible to fear. Someone I could point all of my ire and discontent toward and say "this is the culprit of my malaise". But you left me to the consequences of my willful ignorance. You vanished from my dreams when I listened to what you foretold. You left me to my reality. My consequences.

No longer can I blame a ghost for the cracks in my most recent setting. Instead I am faced with their origin. I am faced with acknowledging the hows and the whys of my current situation. It was easier to just fear you.

I feel raw. New, and reborn. I feel the same emotions and agonies from a different perspective. It's uncomfortable, my sensitivity to these familiar sensations.

Often, I close my eyes to try and ignore what my future holds. I stubbornly follow the path I have chosen until it literally crumbles beneath me to force me onto a different one. I refuse to acknowledge my limbo. So the lack of nightmarish distraction was as ill timed as everything about you.

I dread my coming conclusions. I know they will creep from my heart over time as I embrace my art. I still dread them. I dread knowing what I've wished to ignore. I dread the day when I accept that too. Inevitably isn't always comforting. Often it is just as terrifying as uncertainty.

This ending was inevitable. Moving on is inevitable. Accepting loss is inevitable. None of that makes it even remotely easy.

Avoidance (Musing)

I have come to know myself well. When I am capable of facing an issue, I do my best to do so head on. When I am not, or more accurately when I am afraid to, I hide from the thoughts. I let the gears turn deep in my subconscious and wait until they form some sort of answer. Even still, if the answer is not one I like, I tend to hide from my conclusions. I acknowledge the problem at hand. I acknowledge the that my heart seeks resolution. But I refuse to dwell on it. I refuse to allow it to permeate into my reality until my resolve is fully formed. For I know the second I make my decision, I must act.

I cannot know my feelings about something and let them lie. It is essential to me to have a plan to right whatever issue I face when I have decided the trajectory I must take. I cannot admit something to myself and effectively lie to the rest of the world by leaving it be.

It has never worked out for me, but I've always hoped that if I leave something alone long enough it will resolve itself without my interference. Instead, I choose willful ignorance. I allow things to fester until I feel capable of facing them. I bury my feelings away from everyone - especially myself. I perpetuate limbo. All because I am not comfortable facing the changes I have to execute.

There are always issues that have made it clear they cannot be avoided. Those I allow to overwhelm me in the moment before sequestering them back in the recess of my mind to reach maturation. I feel everything I can before locking it back up and waiting until it is either ready or breaks loose again.

I'm not sure that this is healthy. However... I'm also not sure it's altogether unhealthy either. It is simply how I am - currently at least. Perhaps in the future I may find myself with a deeper support network or stronger resolve to tackle the deep emotions in my life. Perhaps, one day, I'll be honest with myself.

God knows I'm honest enough with everyone else.

I Am / You Want

Red: inside me is unrecognizable passion and real love. I possess the kind of heart that will change everything... but... you.

Blue: first, pause. Okay. I have the power to see any frequency of love. Every atom will hurt because no words are spoken - beg the carnal for all the power to change me.

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