aravelle: A picture of a lamia bathing by a window, in a wooden tub. (Default)

 Oh dreamwidth, I have so much to vomit to you, brace yourself.

My mom and I have been having some really unpleasant talks lately. We don't really argue [when we do it's a clash of the titans], but more debate and unknowingly insult the other. Last time, she called me lazy, arrogant, and neglectful. A lot of it was out of line, some of it was not. It gave me more of an insight into her mind however, and put some things into perspective. It was a mangled form of communication, but it was actual communication, and by God I am not used to that. At one point I expressed that I have a knack of running away, of avoiding situations that make me uncomfortable, and that's my way of coping. I was anxious and knew I wouldn't do well waking up early tomorrow, especially since I didn't expect to be doing something that requires me to do that. I'd be an anxious wreck in the morning. And she said to me, "I'm sad that you feel that way. That you have to hide." I look at her with what I can only assume was horror or fear. And I let it slip. "There is so much that you don't know." But only that. I wanted to let it all flood out, how I have wanted to hide from things for months, that I have been running and running from fear and pain and anger and sadness for years. I wanted to tell her how I can't look at certain songs the same way, how I have pleaded through tears to just die on holidays, right in front of her. I wanted to tell her how she pushed me into seeing that boy, and how he changed something in me forever. I wanted to tell her of how I've contemplated suicide more weeks than not in my time as an adolescent. I have been full of so much pain, when I feel like I haven't gone through shit. I have never been beaten or raped, nor has any of my friends ever flat out said and confirmed my fears of being a burden or finding me annoying. I am not strong, by any means. I'm absurdly sensitive and good at enduring, but even then I ooze and leak in different ways. I run away.

In other more pleasant news, E and I have progressed in ways, changed. Frankly, she wants to have sex with me. She admitted it, and well.. that want is reciprocated. We've been flirting and flustering each other, and it's so.. well.. fun. I've never had this with a girl, and I never had this kind of relationship with someone, where I am close to them as friends, but I don't love them romantically. I've fallen in love with several of my best friends, but I'm not in love with her. I worry about having some level of a crush on her, but I'm thinking, hoping, I'll be okay. She may want me, but I'm not stupid. At the end of the day she will love a man, prefer a man over a woman. And that's okay, because I don't think I could bear her storm as a lover. I worry that I've been neglecting J though. I feel like he and I have hit a point, a crossroad, I feel like he still cares but I don't care enough, either that or I'm too afraid to let myself care more. I hope it's the latter. I feel like we have such potential, but that I need him, and that I use him, and that's not okay.. he doesn't deserve that. I don't know if he is around as much as he is normally and I'm tuning him out, or if he's actually out and about around here less. I guess I'm just worried about us. He always has had a mixed bag of feelings about lesbians and In ever knew why, but I hope it's not because of something bad that's going to happen between E and I, something that he knows. I don't think so, but trying to get him to verbally answer something is like pulling teeth. v-v; 

I wish I could get readings for all this, but I feel like it won't bring me much, that I have to look into myself for the answers. That, or let time do its thing.

Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 12:00 am
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