Hey Montana,
I?ve decided to clean my headspace. The day to day is hard, I think. People for me are too hard. I?m making progress though. I promised you that I would try.
I?m everywhere, you know. Only those that are haunted would see me everywhere. I?ve always been standing in the same place. Maybe that is the problem then? I?m offering two opposites at the same time, and people can?t make much sense of that to begin with.
I don?t know when this feeling is going to go away. It?s all the weak spots that ache right now. Each one was hit perfectly. All the right words were said, and I don?t know how to deal with that. Is that the price for no barriers?
Man.
I don?t know if I can pay that price again. I?m a great doctor. I?ve sewn it up, but my stitches keep splitting. I?ll stitch it up again and the wound is infested. I?ve burned it out though, and that was no small feat. Now? I can feel scar tissue forming, and I look at it with a wary eye each day. I remind myself that this is the price. Scar tissue is unique though. A visual reminder of a memory. When I poke my scars, or when someone else looks at them with a certain light in their eye I can feel the ghost of pain take over. Sometimes I almost double over because of the intensity.
Maybe I just gave admission to the wrong person. I keep saying, ?God, you?re such a cunt. It was your entire fault.? In my heart, I can?t convince myself though. I?ve tried. You know me. Blame is so easy to take when you?re dishing it to yourself. You know how to eat it up and you know how to digest it. You can take it and give a winning smile all the while.
It wasn?t though. I did nothing that I did not give warning for. I did nothing outside of the bounds. I acted as I did because there was something very real there that could never be addressed. It was never looked at properly. It was one sided and I was supposed to take it, just like I take everything else in life. I couldn?t though. I couldn?t bend and give and be satisfied. I refused to settle for less than what I felt I deserved.
Sure, I was selfish. I can own up to it. My temper is a nasty one. It was long lasting, and for that? my hurt was long lasting. People clam up tight and lash out at others when they are hurting. When I was open in my hurt and looked for healing hands it was like? You were the kid in market who didn?t get what was wanted, and so to punish the giver the kid refused to even accept the gift when it could be given.
I don?t think that kid even cares. That kid is the polite sort. Tell you to kindly get your shit and leave, and don?t let the door hit your ass on the way out. Tell you, when there is no recourse that will be offered, that this is what happened and this is how it is going to be. This kid will tell you, and treat you a specific way, and you won?t know what happened until you?re left wondering where your breath went and why you can?t get it back.
This kid throws away the broken toys when he no longer finds them fascinating. They break even more, and it doesn?t matter because it is all done.
It?s with a heavy heart I have to tell you Montana that I don?t know how to do this. I?ve never had my existence so thoroughly wiped from someone. I?m hurt. I?m angry. I feel bitter and betrayed and abandoned. I don?t even know how to approach it other than to put it away like I was put away. It was not for lack of feeling, but simply too much feeling.
He heard my heart break and he could hear my panic. He heard each feeling and didn?t even allow me to claim my voice to say goodbye.
He heard it, Montana. He heard it.
I don?t even know why I would miss that kid.
He hurt me and was aware of it and did not care. How do you miss someone like that? You can?t really hate someone that you did love more than the sun in the first place. I don?t hate him though and I don?t think I can muster enough dislike to put up a good face. I think I told him that he was the sun, moon and stars to me. That if I lost him it would kill me.
It did. It is.
Someone else is reading this letter I am writing to you, Montana. For one I would say, you know what I am talking about though you were a stranger at the time. For another I could say, I know you know how I feel? and I am glad to have you in this way. For even another I could say, Hey, you?re hearing this. You?re not listening.
All my nervous lines were to find you. I did find you and in the end you hid yourself from me.
All I can do is put you away.
You don?t know what it took to write that and what it takes to not go back and erase that.
God, if you looked at me and just said, ?For the love you had for me, listen to me. Help me. Just stand there for me!? I would still do it. I am still standing here for you because I know you.
I forgive you, again, because I know you.
I love you.
No, this is not to say it is alright. It isn?t alright. What you did is not alright. It won?t ever be alright as is. I won?t be okay. I?m not okay. None of this is okay.
I don?t promise sunny days and I don?t promise you an equally sunny disposition? my promises are the same that I gave you in the beginning. My warnings are the same that I had given you in the beginning.
I am everywhere, and yet the pain of nonexistence is real.
I have to put you away.
Thank you for listening Montana. I appreciate it. I?ll come up with something real cheerful the next time we talk over the telephone. Letters just aren?t working for me. I?m letting my thought process get out of control in the written word. It isn?t good at reaching others.
Don't worry about the "yous" flying across this letter. You know which ones apply, dear Reader.
Yours,
Gina
I?ve decided to clean my headspace. The day to day is hard, I think. People for me are too hard. I?m making progress though. I promised you that I would try.
I?m everywhere, you know. Only those that are haunted would see me everywhere. I?ve always been standing in the same place. Maybe that is the problem then? I?m offering two opposites at the same time, and people can?t make much sense of that to begin with.
I don?t know when this feeling is going to go away. It?s all the weak spots that ache right now. Each one was hit perfectly. All the right words were said, and I don?t know how to deal with that. Is that the price for no barriers?
Man.
I don?t know if I can pay that price again. I?m a great doctor. I?ve sewn it up, but my stitches keep splitting. I?ll stitch it up again and the wound is infested. I?ve burned it out though, and that was no small feat. Now? I can feel scar tissue forming, and I look at it with a wary eye each day. I remind myself that this is the price. Scar tissue is unique though. A visual reminder of a memory. When I poke my scars, or when someone else looks at them with a certain light in their eye I can feel the ghost of pain take over. Sometimes I almost double over because of the intensity.
Maybe I just gave admission to the wrong person. I keep saying, ?God, you?re such a cunt. It was your entire fault.? In my heart, I can?t convince myself though. I?ve tried. You know me. Blame is so easy to take when you?re dishing it to yourself. You know how to eat it up and you know how to digest it. You can take it and give a winning smile all the while.
It wasn?t though. I did nothing that I did not give warning for. I did nothing outside of the bounds. I acted as I did because there was something very real there that could never be addressed. It was never looked at properly. It was one sided and I was supposed to take it, just like I take everything else in life. I couldn?t though. I couldn?t bend and give and be satisfied. I refused to settle for less than what I felt I deserved.
Sure, I was selfish. I can own up to it. My temper is a nasty one. It was long lasting, and for that? my hurt was long lasting. People clam up tight and lash out at others when they are hurting. When I was open in my hurt and looked for healing hands it was like? You were the kid in market who didn?t get what was wanted, and so to punish the giver the kid refused to even accept the gift when it could be given.
I don?t think that kid even cares. That kid is the polite sort. Tell you to kindly get your shit and leave, and don?t let the door hit your ass on the way out. Tell you, when there is no recourse that will be offered, that this is what happened and this is how it is going to be. This kid will tell you, and treat you a specific way, and you won?t know what happened until you?re left wondering where your breath went and why you can?t get it back.
This kid throws away the broken toys when he no longer finds them fascinating. They break even more, and it doesn?t matter because it is all done.
It?s with a heavy heart I have to tell you Montana that I don?t know how to do this. I?ve never had my existence so thoroughly wiped from someone. I?m hurt. I?m angry. I feel bitter and betrayed and abandoned. I don?t even know how to approach it other than to put it away like I was put away. It was not for lack of feeling, but simply too much feeling.
He heard my heart break and he could hear my panic. He heard each feeling and didn?t even allow me to claim my voice to say goodbye.
He heard it, Montana. He heard it.
I don?t even know why I would miss that kid.
He hurt me and was aware of it and did not care. How do you miss someone like that? You can?t really hate someone that you did love more than the sun in the first place. I don?t hate him though and I don?t think I can muster enough dislike to put up a good face. I think I told him that he was the sun, moon and stars to me. That if I lost him it would kill me.
It did. It is.
Someone else is reading this letter I am writing to you, Montana. For one I would say, you know what I am talking about though you were a stranger at the time. For another I could say, I know you know how I feel? and I am glad to have you in this way. For even another I could say, Hey, you?re hearing this. You?re not listening.
All my nervous lines were to find you. I did find you and in the end you hid yourself from me.
All I can do is put you away.
You don?t know what it took to write that and what it takes to not go back and erase that.
God, if you looked at me and just said, ?For the love you had for me, listen to me. Help me. Just stand there for me!? I would still do it. I am still standing here for you because I know you.
I forgive you, again, because I know you.
I love you.
No, this is not to say it is alright. It isn?t alright. What you did is not alright. It won?t ever be alright as is. I won?t be okay. I?m not okay. None of this is okay.
I don?t promise sunny days and I don?t promise you an equally sunny disposition? my promises are the same that I gave you in the beginning. My warnings are the same that I had given you in the beginning.
I am everywhere, and yet the pain of nonexistence is real.
I have to put you away.
Thank you for listening Montana. I appreciate it. I?ll come up with something real cheerful the next time we talk over the telephone. Letters just aren?t working for me. I?m letting my thought process get out of control in the written word. It isn?t good at reaching others.
Don't worry about the "yous" flying across this letter. You know which ones apply, dear Reader.
Yours,
Gina
