4:37 p.m. - Tuesday, Jun. 08, 2010
Just the same old bullshit . . .
The A Side:
I tend to be very superficial in the sense that I can small talk you to death. I like to be the one asking questions. I reveal very little about my own personal life . . .and if I do choose to tell you more than where I live and who I live with, I do it carefully, and on my own terms. I am preoccupied with having control over my surroundings . . .my environment. I smile a lot. I don't want to be seen as anything negative. I want to be associated with only positive things. I have strong opinions and will share them if - and only if - I feel comfortable with the present company. I've had people roll their eyes at my passionate rants more than once. I've been called a Communist. A Socialist. A bleeding heart. A pushover. Bubbly. Friendly. Patient. An optimist. At work, people have said they don't know how I stay so patient, calm, nice . . .when people get upset or ask for ridiculous things or who knows what. And I take pride in these descriptions, because I feel that I manufactured them. I have a sense of humor . . .and tend to be sarcastic. I like a good, healthy laugh. I don't like people to get too close. I don't like my space invaded. I don't like when people formulate opinions of me that I didn't plant there myself. I don't like to lose control. I don't know how to handle sadness or situations which call for me to be authentic . . .something I'm not . . .and I'll avoid those situations. If I'm forced into a situation like that, I'll get very quiet. I'll become someone totally unrecognizable to those who really know me. Shy, some might say. But I would call it protected . . .defensive.
The B Side:
I feel very little emotion. I know I feel anger. I've felt helplessness. Is that panic? Is panic an emotion? I have felt moments of peace and joy. I feel very static. I don't know what love feels like, or if I've felt it. I don't think I love anything or anyone. I feel very, very far removed from humanity. I do not feel like I have a real connection with another soul on this planet. Maybe my cat. I'm a pessamist. I believe I was probably born this way and will never be able to change. I get tired of putting on a show for people . . .and holding my tongue when I'd really like to tell them what I think of them. I have a lot of judgement and criticism - internally and externally. I hate me, and most people I know. Most of the time I'd like to be left alone . . .and I feel I could live a very happy life as a hermit. But I also feel jealousy when I see other people connecting in that way that I can't. I want to be Side A . . .but for real. Not just a show. I really want to be that girl. I want to be that girl, but also with the ability to feel and share and accept emotion. I'm not that girl. I'm Side B. Pretending to be Side A. Side B dreads the impending death of her grandmother, not because her grandmother will be dead . . .but because that means she has to show up to the funeral and interact with relatives. And the realization of that makes me feel like a shitty person. Because I am a shitty person. And then Side B deserves to be punished.
Sexuality:
Blah blah blah . . .body image issues . . .violation of personal space and sexual identity as a child . . .blah blah blah. Heard it all before.
Sex is not love. Simple. Sex is power. And I want power. Repeat: Sex is not - and NEVER HAS BEEN - love. So whether or not we're having sex doesn't have anything to do with whether or not I love you. In fact, I would take it as a compliment that we're not having sex . . .because I have more respect for you than that. But I realize for a normal person, this is a problem. For a normal relationship, this is not ideal. So I'm trying to work it out. But the Side A/Side B situation really makes this tough.
But also let me be honest . . .I don't see myself ever changing. I don't see my idea of sex ever changing. And the more I think about sex the angrier I get.
Maybe it was that night in the hotel room that did me in. That night I stared up at the bumps on the ceiling while some asshole of an ex-boyfriend took my virginity. And the way he said, "We had sex!" Like that gave him power over me. No way, mother fucker. I'll get it back. And monetarily, I feel that I did. He paid his dues. Literally.
I'll tell you what I like. I like to be unknown. And I loved those one-night stands. Whose names I still don't know. I love the power I felt. I like to feel like an inanimate object. Not a person. Something to be used. And my usefulness gives me the power. The fact that you need and want it . . .and I could take it or leave it. And the uglier the man, the more powerful I felt. I can't orgasm without imagining someone shoving their cock down my throat and calling me a slut . . .believing they are giving me something I really need and want, when we both know it's me with the power.
And I shudder . . .seriously . . .at the thought of sex being some kind of expression of love. I want to VOMIT at the thought. So that's why we haven't been having sex. Because you are too close to me. And I want to fucking pull my hair out at the thought of someone that close to me being in a sexual relationship with me.
So how the FUCK am I supposed to fix this?
And as for them . . .
I really don't know. Is it a fantasy? Is it sexual? Is it emotional? It's some weird manifestation of the inability to fulfill my sexual desires and the internal fight between Side A/Side B . . .Safety in the fact that they don't have any investment in me sexually, but that I can project onto them my own internal reality. Like, I can play the unknown thing . . .the reenactment of the bridges from those summers many moons ago . . .I can be touched . . .but not sexually, so I'm not betraying my committed relationship . . .It's like experimenting in the gentleness that might come with a loving sexual relationship without having to reveal anything personal or actually having love involved. Simulating the one-night stand under the guise of something else . . .It's weird, weird, weird . . .I know. And I don't get it either. I just know that it makes me feel good. And they get what they want. And I get what I want.
Maybe I do want a loving sexual relationship . . .but just don't know how to have it.
And none of this . . .none of this . . .can I actually say to you.
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