Maux d'amour. This is how it ends.

Enjoy your multiple women and your lies. I hope they keep you warm at night.

I'm slipping, and there's nowhere to turn.

There are a few things about myself that I very much dislike, and they are both things that continually cause problems within the context of a relationship.

At the first sign of conflict that I didn't initiate (although it's very rare that I initiate it to begin with), I clam up. That's it. Communication over. I'm like a turtle that retreats back into her shell at lightning speed at the first sign of something distasteful. On one level, I fucking hate that. On another, I hate conflict, because most conflict I've experienced is hurtful. I'm overly sensitive. I don't do harsh words well.

The other thing is my total lack of ability to communicate sometimes. I know what's going on in my head. I have plenty to say. I just can't seem to get the words out. To form cohesive verbal communication. This goes hand-in-hand with my mood swings. I can't seem to communicate them. I don't even understand them myself, half the time. Sometimes it feels like I'm floundering in this total otherworld of my own mind.

These are two of the larger reason I never had a long-term relationship before this. Nobody could stick with me long enough to see if these are things I'm capable of working on and overcoming. Which makes it all the more difficult, because I become paranoid regarding these two aspects. Paranoid that he'll leave me for the same reasons.

Cleaning out some folders on my computer. Found this.

January 18, 2005
one of the things i hate is that i was there for you for the most difficult times. but some other woman is going to get to be with you while you live the dreams that i encouraged you to go for and fight for.

I think I might have officially lost my mind.

I feel so fucking helpless and useless.

I put my headphones on, retreating into my own little world amidst hundreds of people. Departure times flash. Lips move, but all I hear is my blaring music. Couples kiss, old ladies pass in wheelchairs, a beautiful Indian woman is braiding her daughter's hair. Remnants of Ikon, Duke Special, drinking with Irishmen and his smell mingle in my mind. I come to, and realize the seat next to me is truly empty. I curse God.

After writing what I did, I felt this desperate urgency to tell him that I love him. I rushed, dressed and dashed to Victoria station. I saw his train pull away. I was too late; I missed my chance.

Last night I commented that he looked sad. He said he was only sad that we didn't have anything to talk about. That's so far from the truth. I have so much to say. My heart and mind are full and racing. I've always lacked the verbal way to express everything.

This love has been beautiful and tragic. But I regret nothing, hope for everything and am thankful that at the very least, I have experienced love to its fullest. At least I've known what it's like to truly love.

I haven't experienced abscence like this in months. I'm surrounded by throngs of people in this airport, but I feel so alone that my heart aches. I feel the loss of his presence so incredibly distinctly.

It's odd, this love I have for him. It exists and grows regardless of whether or not it is returned. It's slow and peaceful and painful and desperately passionate all at once. He's left now for his flight home, and I'm in the hotel with memories of last night and his arms floating around in the emptiness. I'm feeling alone and tearful, but happy? I wish I'd told him I loved him.

I know you know this. But I love you.

The thing is, shit is still going on, and on some level I do still need a place to write about it that is more public than my journal and more personal than my main blog.

This blog is closed. It existed for one purpose, and that was simply to have a non-public/advertised place to vent. Mainly about one person. Things are fucked up. She is fucked up. Too much time and energy has been spent venting and dealing with this, and she has played a larger role in our lives than she could ever be worthy of.

I'll leave everything up for archival purposes. For now.

My main blog is still up.

RIP.

One of the shittiest realizations lately is this. As much as I care about him, and as much as I'd still do anything for him, I can't be involved in his life on any direct level, thanks to situations and circumstances that were predicted.

Okay. This is just stupid.

Read.

If he really disagreed with me, he would have an intelligent response, or would at least feel the desire to say something.

She, on the other hand, obviously didn't understand what the hell we were talking about. Wasn't it obvious we were talking about the dynamics of a relationship, and not the natural order of things? Nothing she said even made a fucking bit of sense.

So...Some of the new pictures online. I figured they were old, because she definitely ISN'T pregnant in them. But they were taken on May 21st? With a camera that isn't Daniels. When he might have been out of town (some of them definitely)? Is there something nobody's telling me?

It makes me sick, to think that while I was falling to pieces here in California, downing wine sitting on my bed; knives lined up in front of me, they were galavanting around Dallas totally infatuated with each other. It wasn't even infatuation. Lust. That's all it was.

While I was sitting in Florida, hardly able to get out of bed, she was moving into OUR apartment and attending gallery events with him.

Obviously today has been a really rough day. Lots of dust and memories stired up in the moving process. More pictures online over the weekend. Psychotic IM's and the thought of him talking to our friends in Florida about her.

God, I hate that I still love him. I hate that our lives overlap so much.

I'm feeling like I should have gone to Dallas to chase my demons before this move. I'm restless. I'm remembering his smell, and the sound of his voice yesterday was like music. The ease at which we carried on conversation, as if nothing had happened, was amazing and totally horrible, all at the same time. I felt the loss all over again, and felt hatred towards her that rivals that of only a few people on this earth. It probably even goes beyond the level of my hatred for his former wife.

UGH. I need a hug and a very strong drink.

Ugh. Drama. One minute we have a good converstaion, exchange a few civil e-mails. The next he's making nasty comments on my LJ about my younger sister and then deleting me from his friends list? Doesn't make sense. The other way around would, but not him deleting me.

Again. Ugh.