last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2002-11-14 - 11:58 a.m.: tequila!

as thoroughly pacifist as i claim to be, i start a lot of fights i can't finish. i don't know why... i think it has to do with "the funk" and idealism. i see that things have been vibrant before, wonder what parts must have died to make it so still and so gray, and work on clumsily manipulating the strings of the relationship to make it dance again. i make it twitch, but that's it. nothing good has ever come of anything i've said, and i wonder why i can't just let it sleep for a while.

like last night:

"I don't feel free to be myself around you anymore. Like 80% of me is stifled."

"Oh really? That's not good. Why?"

"I don't know. When I tell you I love you, I feel like I'm demanding something from you. When I'm affectionate, I feel like a raging nympho. When I'm nice, I'm trying too hard. When I'm sad, I'm irrational. When I'm mad, I'm being mean. I don't know what to do. I just shut up."

"Oh. Is there anything sweet or crunchy to eat downstairs?"

"I think there's cereal."

it's not that i really want it to turn into world war III (or would it be IV, now?) i just want some resolution, i guess... some answers to questions i can't answer by myself.

i hate that i do that.

it takes so much control for me to squash the temptation to issue a list of piteously trivial grievances (with an addendum plea for a tender look or word or touch), that by the time i can smile i'm exhausted. it makes me feel very weak, and more than a little disgusted with myself.

hmm. i guess that makes another one: I want to be able to let things I love run away without trying to trip them with my heartstrings.