This is what it comes to
When it's all said and done, I really don't expect anything to turn out well for me in the end. There are ebbs and flows to life. When there is a period of good, later, there will be a period of bad.
Last month, I went to Vegas. I haven't been in 10 years and it was going to be a great trip. My psychic friend repeatedly told me to go. I did. It was a little against what I wanted-- because I was looking for some time to myself, some partying, some gambling, and just enjoyment. I got a portion of that. I got a portion of being depressed. It didn't help that my friend didn't recognize my signs of depression, that I didn't get to be alone for 5 days, and he was very possessive of me (and my time). I feel like the worse of it was the night after I drank too much and ended up passing out when his friends were over. I had wanted some time to myself. He had bothered me right before they came over. I wanted to cry and cry and be by myself. Instead, I had to entertain. It was fun but I always feel like I've joined a party and missed the first 15 years-- the ones with the funny stories about such and such place with that person whose really funny I haven't met. It's very boring to be on that side of things.
The morning after this party, he asks me about driving to his place. I had met up with a guy who I was sleeping with-- and who this friend knew about-- and I just kissed him and went on my way to see my friend and head to Vegas. I was very stressed about the trip. I was considering not going because my friend had been so insistent on being together. I felt pressure, all the while, my friend was telling me that he wasn't pressuring me.
So, he confronts me-- says he read a text because I had my phone in my hand open to a text conversation with the booty call I saw before I went to see my friend and fly off to Vegas. I felt like he might have actually gone through my phone-- and not that my phone was open to this text. My phone tends to shut off pretty quickly and I have it password protected. But with his insistence on looking over my shoulder, I had no choice but that he saw my password a few times. I didn't feel I had anything to hide.
He tells me about how great I am (when I'm not feeling it). He tells me that this guy is not who I should be hanging around (maybe in my drunken state, I asked him but I was not interested in his "friendly" opinion on my sex life at that moment). I cried. He kissed me skin repeatedly, telling me positive things about me. UGH. I wanted to curl up and die. He didn't leave me alone for a second. We had made plans already to meet his friends, all we had to do was walk over to their hotel. Again, sucking it up and pretending like everything was fine. It made me tired. I wanted to have a good trip. I wish I didn't go at that time with him.
It was interesting to see my thought process before Vegas. I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to get excited. It was going to be taken away from me if I did, I thoroughly believed that.
My friend commented that my dad doesn't allow for me to be happy or sad. If I'm going through debt problems, my dad says that it could be worse-- I could be dead. If I go on vacation, he says he wishes he could go on vacation. Wouldn't it be nice? I never get a chance to feel anything. But I understand my dad is limited in what he can express. I'm sure somewhere underneath it all, since I look good on paper, he must look good, like he did something right along the way.
It feels weird to tell people that I'm taking a writing vacation. I want to say a retreat but it's not through any organization, like some of the real writing retreats. No, this is me, in an isolated hotel, writing what I can.
I keep getting this prangs of crying. I wrote and went into a meditative state. And then, I wrote again. And then I started this. I feels like this weekend is going to be more than just writing. I guess some healing is going to come from it too. I think it has to. I'm not even an hour into my vacation and I'm already crying for the second time. I think it'll be tough to give up that part of me that second guesses what I want. It's the part of me that maybe makes my writing so well. I write a lot of stories where things don't turn out like the movies. I guess I enjoy the movies-- not the rom coms so much but the ones that are really out there or the ones that are a little dry and funny. I want to love rom coms. They seem so happy and sweet. They're filled with guys who know the right thing to do for the right woman and when he loses her, he tries harder. I like that. But it doesn't seem like that happens for me. I don't get the great guys who are willing to do anything. I get the guys I don't want, willing to wait as long as it takes for me. I haven't worked at the mental hospital for almost three years. One of the guys there says he loves me and he'll wait. A guy I knew in high school said he'd wait. Another friend said he'd wait. It was the guy from high school that I used to try to convince to not like me-- it's a waste. I didn't feel the same for him. It made me aware that I can't control people's feelings and if he wants to wait, then he can: his time won't come and he'll find someone to settle with-- hopefully he'll be happy.
But because I've had males chase after me, especially when I'm not interested, I feel like when I do start to date someone new, I have to prove it has staying power. I almost feel their negative energy on me. I feel like it really won't work out with anyone if all these guys are after me and I don't want them. I wish I could feel comfortable wanting who I want.
I'll leave it at that and get back to this writing.
Last month, I went to Vegas. I haven't been in 10 years and it was going to be a great trip. My psychic friend repeatedly told me to go. I did. It was a little against what I wanted-- because I was looking for some time to myself, some partying, some gambling, and just enjoyment. I got a portion of that. I got a portion of being depressed. It didn't help that my friend didn't recognize my signs of depression, that I didn't get to be alone for 5 days, and he was very possessive of me (and my time). I feel like the worse of it was the night after I drank too much and ended up passing out when his friends were over. I had wanted some time to myself. He had bothered me right before they came over. I wanted to cry and cry and be by myself. Instead, I had to entertain. It was fun but I always feel like I've joined a party and missed the first 15 years-- the ones with the funny stories about such and such place with that person whose really funny I haven't met. It's very boring to be on that side of things.
The morning after this party, he asks me about driving to his place. I had met up with a guy who I was sleeping with-- and who this friend knew about-- and I just kissed him and went on my way to see my friend and head to Vegas. I was very stressed about the trip. I was considering not going because my friend had been so insistent on being together. I felt pressure, all the while, my friend was telling me that he wasn't pressuring me.
So, he confronts me-- says he read a text because I had my phone in my hand open to a text conversation with the booty call I saw before I went to see my friend and fly off to Vegas. I felt like he might have actually gone through my phone-- and not that my phone was open to this text. My phone tends to shut off pretty quickly and I have it password protected. But with his insistence on looking over my shoulder, I had no choice but that he saw my password a few times. I didn't feel I had anything to hide.
He tells me about how great I am (when I'm not feeling it). He tells me that this guy is not who I should be hanging around (maybe in my drunken state, I asked him but I was not interested in his "friendly" opinion on my sex life at that moment). I cried. He kissed me skin repeatedly, telling me positive things about me. UGH. I wanted to curl up and die. He didn't leave me alone for a second. We had made plans already to meet his friends, all we had to do was walk over to their hotel. Again, sucking it up and pretending like everything was fine. It made me tired. I wanted to have a good trip. I wish I didn't go at that time with him.
It was interesting to see my thought process before Vegas. I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to get excited. It was going to be taken away from me if I did, I thoroughly believed that.
My friend commented that my dad doesn't allow for me to be happy or sad. If I'm going through debt problems, my dad says that it could be worse-- I could be dead. If I go on vacation, he says he wishes he could go on vacation. Wouldn't it be nice? I never get a chance to feel anything. But I understand my dad is limited in what he can express. I'm sure somewhere underneath it all, since I look good on paper, he must look good, like he did something right along the way.
It feels weird to tell people that I'm taking a writing vacation. I want to say a retreat but it's not through any organization, like some of the real writing retreats. No, this is me, in an isolated hotel, writing what I can.
I keep getting this prangs of crying. I wrote and went into a meditative state. And then, I wrote again. And then I started this. I feels like this weekend is going to be more than just writing. I guess some healing is going to come from it too. I think it has to. I'm not even an hour into my vacation and I'm already crying for the second time. I think it'll be tough to give up that part of me that second guesses what I want. It's the part of me that maybe makes my writing so well. I write a lot of stories where things don't turn out like the movies. I guess I enjoy the movies-- not the rom coms so much but the ones that are really out there or the ones that are a little dry and funny. I want to love rom coms. They seem so happy and sweet. They're filled with guys who know the right thing to do for the right woman and when he loses her, he tries harder. I like that. But it doesn't seem like that happens for me. I don't get the great guys who are willing to do anything. I get the guys I don't want, willing to wait as long as it takes for me. I haven't worked at the mental hospital for almost three years. One of the guys there says he loves me and he'll wait. A guy I knew in high school said he'd wait. Another friend said he'd wait. It was the guy from high school that I used to try to convince to not like me-- it's a waste. I didn't feel the same for him. It made me aware that I can't control people's feelings and if he wants to wait, then he can: his time won't come and he'll find someone to settle with-- hopefully he'll be happy.
But because I've had males chase after me, especially when I'm not interested, I feel like when I do start to date someone new, I have to prove it has staying power. I almost feel their negative energy on me. I feel like it really won't work out with anyone if all these guys are after me and I don't want them. I wish I could feel comfortable wanting who I want.
I'll leave it at that and get back to this writing.
posted by PandoraAphroite at
7:18 PM
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