Any Other Night

This happened a few months ago, and, at the time, I was afraid to cope with it. Every now and then I remember that it happened. Not what happened, but that something important happened that night.

I had a break down tonight. I'm not sure what caused it. It was when Cody and I got back to his place from seeing Inception. He said he should go, and I said I didn't want to leave and started crying. I didn't know why at first, and I got angry. I cursed myself and my emotions, but I had sensed this coming and had tried to push it back. He asked what was wrong, and I said I don't know! The tears came, my lips quivered, but no real crying. I got mad, then confused, then mad again, then I laughed. It didn't make sense, I said. He asked again, what was wrong. I told him it was my mother, her genetics in me. It hit me right then, all this negative energy I was getting from him was actually projected off of me. Like my mother, I felt like nothing I said was right. That it all angered him, and that everything turned to bickering, even though I was just trying to have civil conversation. I told him this, that I felt like everything I said was making him annoyed with me, just like how my mother feels about us. He laughed. I did too. The tears were still coming. I grabbed my head in frustration. I had taken off my glasses, and everything was blurry. He put his arm across me from the passenger seat. I dug my face into his hair. The tears kept coming, but there was no more sadness, just frustration, at myself, at my genetics, at the unpredictable nature of these break downs. I felt like any second I would wake up, and that most likely he would have to remind tomorrow that this actually happened, and that I hadn't just dreamed it. I felt sorry. Guilty that he puts up with this. I apologized and said at least I can recognize that this is irrational. He said that if I couldn't, he probably would not be with me. I already knew that.
He understands, when no one else does, and he lets me rant and vent and cry without crying. He holds me and doesn't say a word. he waits. Waits for the tide to end, the storm to subside. He will act like this never happened. Whether it bothers him or not, I'll probably never know. We don't speak of these things unless they are happening. I go about life like normal until the next wave hits, and he waits. I don't miss this feeling. The desire to stop the hurt, the anger, the confusion. I don't miss it at all. It drives the most creative parts of me, but makes me want to destroy. Destroy feelings, destroy consciousness, destroy reason. But this feeling is what made me know that I was meant to do something. Those who do, who create, the drive comes from somewhere, somewhere dark. It comes from a need to destroy that which put you there in the first place, and the only way is to create. Create to destroy, destroy to create. It's a cycle. The destruction of parts of me has led to creating a part of me that I hold closest. I keep it locked away now, because I hate these feelings. The thoughts lead to pure exhaustion, even without the tears and anger. I ignore them, push them away, try to escape to happier places of sleep, TV, friends, anything. I can understand people whose situations I have never been in, because I know that tearing feeling inside, and the desire to push it away or destroy it. Tonight, I chose to destroy it. I put my pain on paper, into words. Tomorrow I will read this and feel relief, but not after reliving these feelings, if only on the smallest scale. My heart will never be able to push them away. Maybe I was meant for greater things, to harness this and ride the waves into some sort of glory. Instead, I choose to try to follow my dream, even if it doesn't lead to great and noble causes. I want a life without these feelings, where I can rest in peace, knowing my thoughts aren't misleading me. Where nothing is tearing me inside out. Someday, i hope for that peace, and hopefully he will wait for it too.


Rereading this now, I realize I decided to post this for the same reasons I wrote it in the first place. When that feeling comes, I have to do something to make it pass. This time, I didn't create, but I shared. Not just with you, but with myself. Reminding myself of the beauty in my life, and it helps.
Tonight is just one night, and tomorrow will be another, and I am learning to cherish them all because of what they teach me.

It's Not My Place to Say

I'm running from my words

Because they will only hurt me

I loved you once

And there is no hate in my heart for you

Ahead of me are two roads

Both are of destruction

Where I will be torn down

These words are here

Whether they will be voiced or silenced

Whether you take them or leave them

I feel like a protector

But it's not my place

To say what everyone knows

But is too afraid to face

Like a moth to the flame

You are drawn to her

The colors, the lights

The tastes and senses

They will all lead to pain

But it's not my place

To save you






I wrote this poem for my ex, who I know is headed into something terrible. Someone terrible. But there is nothing I can do to prevent it without hurting myself in the process. I feel selfish to say nothing, but this is all I can do.