I'm tied to so many things I don't need to do
"You call me up
Say that you've been busy
But something made you just reach out...
The problem is, I suppose, that it's happening on both sides. Does everyone struggle like this with people we've parted from? Or is it just some quirk in my personality, that I make it so hard to detach?
"And we meet up
Tell each other stories
'bout how we been since we last talked
Our coffee date
Moves into the evening
We wonder how it got so late..."
And in all honesty, I claim a lot of culpability for this. We did take some time apart, but--partially because we share the same social group, and partially because we're still drawn to each other--we kept circling. Erratic orbits through the empty space between us, and how could it not be awkward, strange, occasionally surreal? I'm not sure if I'm trying to forge a hands-off friendship, or the sort of friends-in-bed situations I grew up with, hanging out with a largely bisexual, polyamorous group that randomly shifted beds and relationships, depending on the week or the mood.
"We walk around
And I keep asking how
I don't know better by now..."
The one thing I do know is I don't want to try to date him again. I care for him, I may never stop loving him, but...as a couple, at this point, we're toxic with each other. What broke can't be fixed, or at least, can't be remade. That time apart gave us room to breathe, and if we were breathing through shards of heated glass for several months after, well, that's how breakups feel, right?
"You try but you can't shake me
I think we're going crazy
Keep saying that we're through but
Baby I'm not over you..."
And to be fair, this time he reached out first. Confession time, feelings, revelations, which led to a lot of contemplation and more careful conversations.
And that is, of course, part of this too, because I speak with other people, I listen to what they say, but with him...we speak in the silences between words, in the pauses, in the words we choose to mean additional things above and beyond what they do as simple language. It's not hard, really--as easy as walking a tightrope while carrying a frightened tiger. A simple, complicated thing, as so much of our relationship was.
"We're quick to go attack
But when we split I need you back and
I tell myself we're though but
Baby I'm not over you..."
And we're on fire again, and I'm wondering whether it's going to be the crucible that purifies, or lead to third-degree burns and scars.
Again.
I didn't name this blog the Train-Wreck Love Life on a whim.
"You're the one it's gotta be and I
Gotta get ya next to me
You try but you can't shake me..."
He's actually said as much. We had a very, very careful conversation today, and I told him in spite of everything, he lingers. He said in spite of everything, I echo. It would hurt less to be less to each other, for once.
"You wear your clothes
Like you're trying to impress me
But I just think you're over dressed
You roll your eyes
'Cause I keep my room messy
And you think we're too old for that..."
The issue, I suppose, is that I've never left a relationship where I was still in love. It's...new territory. I've left over arguments that led to months of crying; I've left due to absence; I've had love beaten out of me, and lost the feel of what that love felt like when the bruises healed. Three was always a reason, above and beyond, on why I left or why they did, but always before, always, love had faded, or disappeared entirely.
"But I gotta know
How you can tweet but you can't text me
You say that I just need control
We go around
And I keep asking how
I don't know better by now..."
And...I genuinely feel unsettled. Do I want to start up even the smallest, merest beginnings of...something...again? Is that fair to either of us? Will it just hurt him in the long run? And ultimately, how can I still love someone that I know, know with surety, I cannot ever be with the way I was before?
And why am I thinking about these things at all?
"Now you say choose it, my favorite music
We dance round my bedroom floor
Run to the store and pick up snacks for
A movie we can ignore..."
Friendship doesn't cause this ache. Relationships, loss, cause this ache. And if the ache is felt, if it's a known pain, should that tell me I'm moving in the wrong direction? I don't want to stop moving, but...maybe I need to pull the lever on the brake. Just a little. Or redirect to the section of track that has the bumper post.
"I think we're going crazy
Keep saying that we're through but
Baby I'm not over you
Baby I'm not over you
Baby I'm not over you..."
Yeah. I'm working on it, but some people are harder to shake than others. Especially if I don't truly want to shake them off in the first place.
(Lyrics are from Tessa Violet's song "Not Over You", which is my third favorite of her works so far--the first being one she did back in her Meekakitty days, which was a sort of fanvid thing for Selena Gomez' song Love You Like a Love Song', and the second is her recent release "Crush".
(The pictures were taken in the Magic Moon Forest. It's Adult land, but it's really, really pretty.)
Say that you've been busy
But something made you just reach out...
The problem is, I suppose, that it's happening on both sides. Does everyone struggle like this with people we've parted from? Or is it just some quirk in my personality, that I make it so hard to detach?
"And we meet up
Tell each other stories
'bout how we been since we last talked
Our coffee date
Moves into the evening
We wonder how it got so late..."
And in all honesty, I claim a lot of culpability for this. We did take some time apart, but--partially because we share the same social group, and partially because we're still drawn to each other--we kept circling. Erratic orbits through the empty space between us, and how could it not be awkward, strange, occasionally surreal? I'm not sure if I'm trying to forge a hands-off friendship, or the sort of friends-in-bed situations I grew up with, hanging out with a largely bisexual, polyamorous group that randomly shifted beds and relationships, depending on the week or the mood.
"We walk around
And I keep asking how
I don't know better by now..."
The one thing I do know is I don't want to try to date him again. I care for him, I may never stop loving him, but...as a couple, at this point, we're toxic with each other. What broke can't be fixed, or at least, can't be remade. That time apart gave us room to breathe, and if we were breathing through shards of heated glass for several months after, well, that's how breakups feel, right?
"You try but you can't shake me
I think we're going crazy
Keep saying that we're through but
Baby I'm not over you..."
And to be fair, this time he reached out first. Confession time, feelings, revelations, which led to a lot of contemplation and more careful conversations.
And that is, of course, part of this too, because I speak with other people, I listen to what they say, but with him...we speak in the silences between words, in the pauses, in the words we choose to mean additional things above and beyond what they do as simple language. It's not hard, really--as easy as walking a tightrope while carrying a frightened tiger. A simple, complicated thing, as so much of our relationship was.
"We're quick to go attack
But when we split I need you back and
I tell myself we're though but
Baby I'm not over you..."
And we're on fire again, and I'm wondering whether it's going to be the crucible that purifies, or lead to third-degree burns and scars.
Again.
I didn't name this blog the Train-Wreck Love Life on a whim.
"You're the one it's gotta be and I
Gotta get ya next to me
You try but you can't shake me..."
He's actually said as much. We had a very, very careful conversation today, and I told him in spite of everything, he lingers. He said in spite of everything, I echo. It would hurt less to be less to each other, for once.
"You wear your clothes
Like you're trying to impress me
But I just think you're over dressed
You roll your eyes
'Cause I keep my room messy
And you think we're too old for that..."
The issue, I suppose, is that I've never left a relationship where I was still in love. It's...new territory. I've left over arguments that led to months of crying; I've left due to absence; I've had love beaten out of me, and lost the feel of what that love felt like when the bruises healed. Three was always a reason, above and beyond, on why I left or why they did, but always before, always, love had faded, or disappeared entirely.
"But I gotta know
How you can tweet but you can't text me
You say that I just need control
We go around
And I keep asking how
I don't know better by now..."
And...I genuinely feel unsettled. Do I want to start up even the smallest, merest beginnings of...something...again? Is that fair to either of us? Will it just hurt him in the long run? And ultimately, how can I still love someone that I know, know with surety, I cannot ever be with the way I was before?
And why am I thinking about these things at all?
"Now you say choose it, my favorite music
We dance round my bedroom floor
Run to the store and pick up snacks for
A movie we can ignore..."
Friendship doesn't cause this ache. Relationships, loss, cause this ache. And if the ache is felt, if it's a known pain, should that tell me I'm moving in the wrong direction? I don't want to stop moving, but...maybe I need to pull the lever on the brake. Just a little. Or redirect to the section of track that has the bumper post.
"I think we're going crazy
Keep saying that we're through but
Baby I'm not over you
Baby I'm not over you
Baby I'm not over you..."
Yeah. I'm working on it, but some people are harder to shake than others. Especially if I don't truly want to shake them off in the first place.
(Lyrics are from Tessa Violet's song "Not Over You", which is my third favorite of her works so far--the first being one she did back in her Meekakitty days, which was a sort of fanvid thing for Selena Gomez' song Love You Like a Love Song', and the second is her recent release "Crush".
(The pictures were taken in the Magic Moon Forest. It's Adult land, but it's really, really pretty.)
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