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24 September 2012 @ 12:35 am
with every hair that was tangled to you  
i seem to come here a lot when i've a lot spinning through my mind. it's been a place of great sadness and greater joy. it's weird to come back and see these things and revisit these feelings in a wistful sort of way. i know i'm not doing things in the right order at all. it's weird to be loving in such a whole way again and it's breathed further life back into this new/old/new life of mine. everything has changed and yet nothing at all...but everything because i feel so much like i've changed and grown. i feel very hopeful. it's a strange sensation. i was reading a story this afternoon about a guy who falls in love with this girl who's lost her dad at a younger age, and he says that with people like that, they become cautious and you can't give them all this love at once because it will overwhelm them, you have to give it in stages...but this has been all at once and deepens in stages all at the same time. these things feel strange and foreign this time around, so foreign to me because they are the same and yet so very, very different. i feel sad sometimes when i think about the past, and sort of nostalgic, and i know i'll never love like that again and it makes me sad that i can't give of myself in that same initial way again but i have become something i am altogether proud of, someone who commands respect and demands it from people. i think that's what i've been missing and i needed to end my subconscious commitment to martyrdom before i could be healthy. 

sometimes i want to make lists of demands. sometimes i want to wear funny hats and make dinosaur noises and be passionate and yell and holler and curse and write and fuck and i can do that now. i can really do that and live it and be happy in it and not be ashamed of who i am ever because it is who i am and i am all i will ever have in this world, deep down. 

you've given me all your love at once and you are such an incredible, powerful force in my life. i wish i could say all these things to you and explain what i'm thinking when you ask, it's this. it's you. it's everything. it's amazing.

edit: the story was Human Snowball by Davy Rothbart