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Monday, February 21, 2005

Last Night

I think that this is a time in which I can not write. I should say I can't not write honestly ~ when I open it up to look inside there is nothing, so how can I fix it or get rid of it. All that is there is me, only ~ I could've sworn it wasn't me. I know there were outside forces.
I talk to her and she touches me. My hand, my knee, my face. She says she understands what I'm saying, not what I've said. When my voice creeps to a nasty rasp of wet and pain she leans into me. Her lips on my ear as promises that are not hers to give are given. Sometimes the things that she says are so beautiful they hurt and when that happens and I breathe deep she pauses and kisses me softly.
All night she makes me smile, but underneath there is this hurt. I want her to make it go away. I want her to be the one who can, only I don't believe anyone can. That's scary.
When she leaves her arms hold me longer than a usual goodbye. Her lips sit on my temple and her breath warms me, she tells me that it's just a little longer now and we'll be so happy soon. Will we? I * she could see how deep this break actually goes. I * I could show her in some way without revealing everything else.
"I know. " I say and kiss her neck. But, do I? I might have just told her our first lie.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

I Love Girls

I've never been one to hold my tongue, to watch what I would say, or reword something to make it more pleasant. When sexuality would be brought into a conversation I would honestly reply, "I am people sexual. Doesn't matter if they are boy or girl as long as they have something that catches you and keeps you there." When girls would be discussed I'd playfully chime in that, "I'd fuck her." (Kate Moss.) Or "I'd totally let her fuck me." (Angelina Jolie.) My first boyfriend knew I was nuts about my best friend at the time, he started a game of truth and dare and then, like the incredible guy he was, dared her to kiss me. When I told him I loved him but I had to see her more, he smiled and said, "Figure it out, I can't be a girl but I'll still be your boyfriend." It was heaven, I could have someone who cared more for me than anything else in the world combined and still see the girl that made my insides shake.

My second boyfriend, and the longest relationship, was no where near as understanding. While at first he thought it was a turn on to make jokes about getting it on with me and another girl he quickly lost that idea and would go strait to, "Oh, what you want to fuck her too?" I'd roll my eyes and sigh, but inside the answer was "Yes, I really think I might."

When I'd sit around with the boys and we'd talk about different things one of my friends would say, "You are so bi-curious." to which I'd always reply, looking straight at him and using a serious voice, "Curious implies that I'm not quite sure and I know what I like." He'd always get red and laugh.

When I met her the sexual attraction was undeniable. I had to have her touch me and once she did I had to know what it was to touch her, kiss her, oh and dear God, taste her. Holding onto her and cumming like I never had in my life, tasting the salt of her sweat as I licked her small, yet perfect, breast. This is what sex was always supposed to be, this is how it should always feel and never before had it felt this way. Not one moment of any other encounter could even try to compare to even a second of this. I always hated myself afterwards, I always felt awful and would usually cry. After she and I make love I sometimes feel like crying but it's because I can't believe how wonderful life is, how sickenly beautiful she makes me feel. Magic alive and shared with another person.

The idea of being with a man now is repulsive, I think it always was. I just associated those feelings towards sex in general. I am fascinated with the thought of a life spent with a girl. Loving, sharing, fucking, crying, making love, fighting, living with a woman. God help me find that one. (Sometimes it's fun to think that maybe I have found her.)

My mother likes to remind me, in her way as she always does, that I always said I was people sexual. She says snide things such as, "I know you like this girl because she pays attention to you and no one has liked you since, well, way before Scott. I mean it's not like he liked you, but Rae, you could find a nice little guy to do the same thing and then wont you feel silly for all of this?" She also likes to inquire and then give her opinion as fact, "So what's going on?" We're friends. "Oh, that's sweet. In other words she gets what she wants and you feel really dumb in what a couple of weeks, months if you really hold on. I just don't know why you are so desperate." It's not like that. "Oh, are you in love? Is it like forever and ever with a girl who doesn't want anyone to know about you?" We are friends and I enjoy her, if I can see her I want to and what ever happens after that I can't control so I am not going to talk about with you. "You're so cool. So smart, but wasn't I right before, deep down don't you know I'm right now? Do you have to do the same thing again and again?" What can I say to that, maybe you're right. I would hope not and I don't think so, but maybe.

I think that 'people sexual' was my way of saying, "I would like to know what it's like to be with a girl because I like them a lot and I would like it known so that should it happen no one is too surprised." Now that I know I know I never want to be with anything else. How lovely, how wonderful.

When I tell her I'm a lesbian, when I actual state those words to her, and that it's not just this girl because no one else was interested. I know she'll say I'm wrong and I know she'll swear it's just to hurt her ~ as all things I've ever done in my life were based on if they would or would not negatively affect my mother. She'll swear it's because I think I'm not worthy of a man (quite the opposite) or that I am crazy to suggest that I know that I want a woman. None of that will matter because the sticker is on the car, the smile is on my face and I LOVE girls.

The Answers

You have all the answers.
Do I?
You are the one who's always right.
Am I?
You are so smart.
You think?
Everything you say just makes sense.
Does it?
You give the best advice.
I have to talk to you.

Six different statements each from different people who have said at least three of those to me. I'm glad if I help people, if my friends and loved ones feel better or more at ease. It's nothing really, just helping them step outside of the situation and see what's really going on. It's hard, you know, when everything in your life seems too big, and sometimes a little help to get outside the box is all you need. I don't give them answers I add perspective, in the end they had the answer the whole time. It's true, it has to be. If I really had the answers why would I be so fucked up?

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Who Am I?

A question so often asked. So rarely answered. Who I am is ever changing if I am truly living this life, for all things ~ the mundane, the ridiculous, the larger than life ~ change my reality, perception. Therefore changing how I interact, react, consider, evaluate and ultimately changing who I am. It is an unfair question. This world expects so much from people, where did the pressure to know exactly where you're going and by what age you'll be there and by what means and what when you arrive and how long and what next come from? How can you plan out your life so precisely when you truly don't know if you will have a tomorrow or what that tomorrow will give to you. How can you expect to share yourself if you have no real notion of who that self is? It is ludicrous to assume that I, or anyone my age can honestly answer that. Though no doubt some poor young people do have an answer. I am better off, though their proud parents and my own, I'm sure disappointed, parents, would disagree. For at least I know that I have no answer, instead of following a plan to a life only to waste more years and then realize that the person I made said plan for, the person I built said future for, isn't the person I am.
Who am I now? That is a question with answers, that question is fair and within reason. I am now a girl I actually like to be. I am now a girl who feels, though scared in her own right, somewhat in control. I can't change things, not really ~ however things are changed by how you deal with them. I no longer choose not to care, that really didn't work anyway. Now I care, so much so that my chest hurts and my hands shake, but still, through constant reminders, I force myself to breathe. Smile. Live. Continue.

So far it has worked.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Korrynne & Raejillian


She'll die when she checks in and finds her picture here. She'll call me frantic and threaten to kill me. She should find comfort in the fact that she is the only person besides myself who ever come to see this place. She's really scary about these things, not that this world isn't a clear and justified reason for caution, just I usually don't listen to that voice.
I wanted to put it up, though, so that the world could potentially she the beautiful girl who I call my best friend. I don't think she even knows half of all her magic. But as she lives she will find it, more and more. She will hear the wind and the stars and know their secrets. She will hear pain and, having known her own, be able to silence it. She will give great advice and be shocked by her profound intelligence. I can't wait to see it.

Saturday, February 12, 2005's simple really...

...close your eyes, and you have her. and everything is beautiful. and don't worry because it will all be fine, perfect really which is better than fine. don't worry now, just know you will be happy forever.

Thank you Violet. I love you. With everything I am and I'm glad I know you and I'm glad you are in my life and I am SO glad you are a living breathing part of me. I love you.

Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I forget that I am the one who is the living magic. I am the author of this story, the director of this play. Sometimes I forget to hold on to me, to keep that which makes me beautiful. Sometimes I forget that I am beautiful. Sometimes I forget that the most attractive things are those which first attract. So disgustingly willing to become what you want that sometime I forget what you wanted was me. Sometimes I forget to smile and sometimes I forget my voice of reason. Sometimes I forget that this isn't a dream. This isn't another one of those nightmares. Sometimes I forget that I can change things, that I can make things happen. Sometimes I forget that life rewards action. Speaking isn't enough, words alone do not a spell make. Sometimes I forget that love isn't perfect. Flaws and imperfections make things unique and special. Sometimes I forget who I want to be, who I used to be and how far I've come. Sometimes I forget that I am supernatural. Sometimes I just forget...

Friday, February 11, 2005

I'd Rather Never Love You

You don't see this in me, I haven't shown it to you. I don't know why, I just can't bring people here. You don't see the fear or self doubt. You don't feel the tremble. God, but it's here. Letting you in, I shouldn't have. I knew I wasn't ready, I knew I'd only destroy it before it destroyed me and in the end lose out. Darling I would rather never love you this way than love you and push you too far. I would rather not know the girl who cryed with me in the car or made me see colors or was the first to truly make love to me, if not knowing her would let me know you forever. Keep you always as my friend. Now I am more than scared. To lose you would kill my heart because it is not only the loss of a lover but of someone who so quickly became a very best friend. Things can't always be the same, but do they have to be so drastically different? Can't you touch me and lean in and whisper, "Relax." Fix this the way you do everything else? If it wasn't you who I am going mad over I would seek you out and talk to you about it. I would give you all the lovely story and let you explain it to me the way you do everything that I just can't get. Everything that is just beyond me. Only I can't because you can't know how torn up I am. You have to stay on the other side and wonder what is wrong with me. Figure out why I am being so ugly and why you suddenly feel so far away.

Happy Forever

I think we might have finally found the someones who will make us happy forever. I said those words to you. I thought, "How can I be so foolish, how dare I say those words out loud, how could I be so utterly ridiculous?" Yet it was such a nice thought, such a good, warm, lovely thought. I tried to let it go, but instead I said it to you. I gave you that frightfully beautiful thought. You, you smiled.
Then I called, reaching out, *ing you could make it better or at least tell me to hold on and it would be. I said it's just different. I was, like only once before in this life, broken-hearted. My voice couldn't hold the pain, and my throat couldn't handle the ball of tears. Still my eyes burned, dry as dust. I trust my premonitions, so why am I scared? I trust my premonitions, maybe it's why I'm scared.

Now I want to be far away, oh so very far away. I want to be lost at sea, out in the vast ocean of life. Drifting. I * I was an empty vessel, alone and done. I want to sink, I am. Sinking.
I hate this.

Monday, February 07, 2005


Waiting for you to call. Holding my breath again. Did you know that when you come near me I am lost in my own skin. I am overwhelmed. Did you know that you are the irresistible flame, the undeniable desire? Did you know that you will destroy me just as you gave me life. I am forgetting that you are the lucky one, I am letting go of that which I struggled for. I am the foolish queen who so willingly will marry away her kingdom, for there is nothing I wouldn't do. No pain I wouldn't endure, no hurt I wouldn't take more of.
Did you know that I am strong? No you didn't, because with you I am not. How is that? How is it that you undo the fortress I have built? What guard was sleeping, what shift not covered that such a predator could enter these walls? What black magic is it that you possess which could cloak you and aid you in finding this deeply burred hide out?
Disenchant me, disconnect me, let me go. I'm bleeding.
Bleeding is believing. I used to.
Bleeding is believing, I do.