Saturday, January 24, 2009

I'm sorry...




“I’m sorry” by MDW

I’m going to kill us. I’m going to kick that fat bastard in back of his head, smash his annoyance to the side window and we will die. The thought put a smile on my face. And then I saw his light brown eyes, and I thought could I really kill us all? Could I really kill him?

I didn’t get it until that night. I didn’t get it until I saw the fear and sadness in his eyes that I caused. Before, I was always apologizing. I had the tendency to act out, embarrass, cheat, push away. I guess I felt as if everyone was against me. I knew he was different but I’ve learned to be an idiot. I’ve had dealt with so much abandonment in my life. I figured it just a matter of time until the next let me down. And that’s how I loved because I couldn’t speak any other languages. I didn’t get it until that night. I left him standing in the middle of the street confused. It was the first time I saw myself, what I had become.

*******
Why won’t you trust me?

I don’t trust anyone.

How can you ever love, if you don’t trust?

Are you saying that you love me?

I could.

Why can’t I just forgive you?

What does that mean?


It means that you’re human and not perfect. You will fuck up. It also means, don’t make any assumptions that I put you before myself and I don’t. But I can always learn to forgive you.

That sounds like a bullshit response. Trust just means that you believe in me.

Maybe you will always do the right thing. Maybe you won’t. And I know your intentions right now is your heart, and maybe tomorrow it will be hate. I can’t predict. But I will always forgive you. Even if I’m not with you, I will always forgive you.

You don’t think love is trust?

No.

*******
Every time I’m alone I panic. My mother when I was eight years old left me in a hotel. That stupid selfish bitch. So I panic, every time I feel lonely. I was only eight years old so how the hell did she think I was going to get home. Anger. I tell him, he has to understand that I’ve been angry for a long time. I’ve been the kicked dog. I was the kid everyone picked on. I was bullied. And bad shit kept happening to me. Love never made sense to me. I had too much too lose. I was already broke. Loving myself never made any sense. I’ve tried. It was just a bunch of rambling hopelessly trying to be coherent. I never wanted love. I never dreamed of it. I never thought of a happily ever after. I was cool with being alone. I was safe alone. I didn’t have to care. Maybe if I would’ve had a better childhood.

********
So you saying that you’re hopeless

I’m saying it’s not easy for me. I’m not you.

And who am I?

You had a great childhood. Your parents are still together. You think everyone is like you.

I just want to love you.

You want the fantasy of your childhood and I’m trying to avoid the nightmare of mine.

*********
I would stare in the mirror from hours some days screaming at myself that I’m not crazy. And I wasn’t referring to crazy like eccentric or misunderstood, but beyond sanity like a rubber band that’s been stretched too far and comes slinging back like a monkey throwing its shit. It was more like a Rick James crazy, just a little too much cocaine and alcohol and suddenly I’m kidnapping hookers and locking them in my basement crying like a baby while I feed my hostages Lucky Charms. I’ve always felt different. I always felt like the freak. I was the kid with no parents. I was the kid with no home. I had no family. I was always alone. I went from one government “I don’t need no heroes” shelter to the next. I went from one family member to the next. And when I turned eighteen years old, I was alone for good. I was on the streets. And then there’s that anger. I’m fucking pissed off. I tried to hide it for years behind a smile or bubbly personality, but honestly, I was a fucking time bomb. I was more heartbreak from buying a gun. One day I decided to study happiness. I tried to mimic what it looked like on other people. I watched the sitcoms. I read the fairytales. I saw so many damn romantic comedies. I tried to fake happiness. I thought could cheat.

********
So what happened that night, your craziness.

I fucking snapped.

We were doing so well, I thought you were happy.

I tried to be, but I’m a tester.

What does that mean?

It means I have to test people to see if they would stay. It’s so easy to drive people away.

And when is the test over?

I haven’t figured that out yet.


*********
His name on men4sexwithoutlimits.com was "PrettyboySmiles". His stats said he was six feet and a hundred and fifty five pounds. He was versatile but looking for pentration. I was LonelyHungerBigDick. My stats claimed I was 6'1, 180s pounds, a versatile top with nine inches of attitude. It was supposed to be another empty internet hook-up at his place-- the scripted big dick meets hungry ass, eyes never meeting, only hands, mouth and tongue searching for pockets of warmth. Only the hard dick compromising its lust for fast love. When I got to his door, he smiled and I smiled and then I kissed him. It was different. I'd never done that before. And we just kissed for the next three hours. I don't remember even telling him my name. I just remember feeling safe like I kissed him before. I just thought he knew the story. It scared me. I had tried the love thing before and it didn’t work out. I was too much of a fuck up. I had every right not to trust the world. I was too destructive. I only knew destruction.

From the beginning, we were more than just sex. We talked. We told jokes. The sex was unbelievable. Before, I thought sex was a “use or be used” game. With him, sex became about freedom. I wanted him to see me. I didn’t look away or hide. I wasn’t embarrassed with my nakedness with him. I liked how he didn’t’ hold back. Being with him felt spiritual. I told myself not to take the experience too serious. It was just sex. But I was a fucking time bomb.

I didn’t get it until that night standing the middle of the street in the rain. I didn’t get it until I saw the fear and sadness in his eyes that I caused. It was the first time I saw myself, what I had become.

It all fell apart that night in the car. I had way too much to drink. I felt ignored. I felt confused and out of control. I tried not to snap. I tried to be normal, but no one was listening to me. I remember my leg shaking. I remember sitting in the backseat and my foot banged intensely against the floor like an angry Congo beat. I remember crossing my arms to my waist and holding them so tight against my sides like a straight jacket. I could feel the insanity rising like a volcano. I could feel myself lose control of the situation. I could feel myself becoming violent. And it was four o’clock in the morning. There weren’t many cars on the freeway. We were going eighty five miles an hour. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I couldn’t trust anymore. No one was listening to me. I knew I was in love with him, but that scared the shit out of me. And no one was listening to me. I needed attention. Nobody was listening to me and it was pissing me off. I could hear the irrational voices in my head get louder and louder. I couldn’t turn them down. I tried to distract my impending insanity by stabbing my chewed down fingernails into my sides. I tried to count the cars we passed on the freeway. I tried to pay attention to the songs on the radio. But I kept shifting in my seat. And I wanted to kick him. I wanted to kick the driver in the back of his fat head. My leg started twitching violently. And that’s when he turned to me and smiled. He was in the backseat with me trying to keep me calm. I had way too much to drink. I wanted to be calm but I was panicking. I was so damn insecure. I felt alone. My feelings were hurt. Nobody was listening to me. I told the driver not to take the highway. I told them to take the side street because it was a lot quicker. But they wouldn’t listen. I knew how to get home. It was how I got home and they weren’t listening. I knew if I did it, if I kicked that fat bastard in the back of his head, he would slam against the left window probably cracking it. He would lose control of the car. As fast as we were going, I knew the car would flip. I knew if I kicked the fat bastard in his head, I would kill us all. I decided to just kill myself. I looked at the door. I saw the lock. I wanted to open the door and fling my body out on the highway. Nobody was listening to me.

*******
WHY DO YOU DO THAT!

I DON’T KNOW!

YOU EMBARASSED ME IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS. NOW THEY THINK I’M CRAZY! NOW THEY DON’T LIKE YOU!

THEY WEREN’T LISTENING TO ME!

HE JUST WANTED TO TAKE THE HIGHWAY.

IT’S NOT HOW I GET HOME.

SO YOU’RE A ONE TRICK PONY.

IT’S WHAT I TRUSTED. WHY DIDN’T HE JUST LISTEN!

YOU CAN’T LET ANYONE IN, CAN YOU?

NO.

WHY DO YOU DO THAT? WHY YOU ALWAYS ACTING CRAZY.

MAYBE I AM!


********
I knew I was in love because the need to destroy the relationship was like trying to resist the red button that was labeled “push me.”

*******
You weren’t like that when we first met. You seem sane.

I’m a good actor.

The person I fell in love with was an act.

I mean, I was hiding something. Don’t we all give our best presentation?

I don’t play games.

I wasn’t playing a game.

So what didn’t you tell me? What aren’t you telling me?


*********
It turned out that I couldn’t cheat happiness or love. It started to all catch up with me too damn fast--my past, my miserable childhood, my loneliness, how I was a fraud. I guess that was love. It’s quick sand and when you realize that you’re sinking, it’s too late. It started to undo me like thread that’s loose in a shirt. I had no idea it would come apart so damn fast. I had built my entire life on the lie I wanted to believe. I was completely empty on the inside, yet, it seemed as if I had everything. I had the look. the car, the apartment, the sparkling smile. I had studied the happiness well. I wanted what it looked like not what it meant. I was a fucking “A” student. I had studied the fantasy like the bible yet I couldn’t get life to stick to the damn script. I tried to erase 18 years of my life in my head. I thought I could just start over. I thought if I never spoke of it, it never happened. I was so DAMN wrong! It was because I ran that I had to keep running. I had to keep changing identities. I had to keep telling more LIES. I was a fugitive.

Plan B had always been suicide. What he didn’t know, I had been falling apart for years. I had been dealing with depression, alcoholism and insecurity. It was taking over my life. I had gotten fired from my job because I kept calling in. I would lock myself in my apartment for days and just cry. When I turned 27 years old I didn’t like myself anymore. I questioned what he really wanted to know. Did he want to know if I was savable? Did he want to know if I could be happy, if I would allow myself to be happy? I didn’t even have those answers. I just knew my mother did love me. She left me. I just knew my father got himself killed before I could even remember his name. I just knew I grew up the kicked dog, so much damn abuse. I just knew when I finally ran away from my Foster care home at age fifteen I would never return to pain again. I mean, what the fuck did he want to know? People like me didn’t deserve shit. People like me ended up dead in the gutter and labeled John Doe. I knew my future, so I couldn’t understand what he needed to fuck with my head. Not everybody gets to be happy. Some of us, too many of us live very shitting lives.

********
You gave into the anger, even with me?

Not with you

You acted out

Why can’t you understand? It’s not about you.

What is that you want?

I want you to listen. And I hate it that motherfuckers think everyone is like them.

Don’t start cursing.

You’re not listening.

You’re talking in circles. We are all afraid of rejection.

Not like me. I’m afraid of the world. I have more to lose.

Nobody is perfect.

You are.

That’s a lie. I have my flaws. I’m insecure. I’ve been burned in relationships. I’ve trusted too damn much. I often feel like a fool.

And you think that’s what I’ve done, made you a fool again.

Yes. Are you ready to talk about what happened that night?

I went crazy.

It scared me.

I’m sorry.

So are you ready to talk about it?


*********
I was surprise that Saturday evening when he called me to go out with his friends. I immediately tried to think of an excuse. I was comfortable with our relationship and didn’t want to change it. I couldn’t be sure how I would act in the real world. I wasn’t the same/sane person.

I should’ve known it was a test. It was like a pop quiz and I hadn’t even opened the book. A nightclub, the devil spawn, was arsenic for any relationship. Nightclubs brought out the worse in people. Nightclubs were like high school for adults—everyone tried to prove they belonged.

He said he’d meet me at the club. I knew that would be a mistake. It meant that temporarily I’d have to be alone. I wanted to be on good behavior that night. I wanted his friends to like me. I wanted to get their approval because I really liked him, so I started drinking. He was an hour late. I kept drinking. I kept going to the bathroom and checking myself. I kept checking my watch. I hated being alone. I felt like a fool. He was an hour and half late. When he got to the club I was drunk and not in the best of moods. I immediately didn’t like his friends or cared less if they liked me because they made him late. I was alone. I knew it wasn’t going to be a good night.
I was used to having him alone. I didn’t like I was going to have to share him with his friends. They went to the bar and ordered more drinks. I ordered another drink. I tried to pretend I wasn’t angry. I tried to smile and tell jokes but my eyes were telling a different story. I felt like an outsider with his friend. Maybe it was the liquor. I wanted to leave but he was my ride home.

I couldn’t decide if I cared. The situation only worsened when some guy asked him to dance and he accepted. He said the guy was just a friend. I hated seeing him with somebody else. I felt disrespected. I had seen him naked and now I imagined others seeing him naked. I wonder what we had was just a fraud. I thought maybe our sex wasn’t spiritual. I thought maybe I was a fool. So I kept drinking. I told myself I was still cute. I flirted with every boy. I wanted to make him jealous so I kissed some guy in front of him. When he didn’t respond, I insulted them. I tried to pick a fight and when he wouldn’t fight me back, I decided to pick a fight with someone who would throw a fist. I needed him to know that I was strong. I needed him to know that I didn’t like to be alone. I needed him to know that I wasn’t a fool. I needed him to know that I wasn’t second place. I got kicked out the club. I found myself throwing up in the middle of the streets. I didn’t know how I was going to get home. And when he came rushing out the club after me, I pushed him away. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. I needed him to know that I didn’t need him and I was used to the disappointment. He had hurt my feelings. He had made me feel weak and I hated him. I just wanted to go back to not caring. But he wouldn’t let me stagger the streets. He forced me to get in the car with his friends. He sat in the backseat with me. I felt like a fool.

I just wanted to get home. I didn’t feel as if I was in control. I needed control. I told the driver how to take me home. But he decided he knew a quicker way. I felt agitated. He started the car and decided to take the way he wanted. I demanded that he go my way or let me out of the car. I had lost too many battles that night. I tried to grab the wheel. They held me down. I cursed. I wanted to prove to them that I wasn’t a child.

********
You know I was pissed that night

Get it out

Not to be bringing it up again but you know

Most people say they've gotten over things, but they are just buying time

You were irrational, way too drunk, not comprehending/reacting when I asked you something. And I was like what is wrong with him all of a sudden

I’m completely speechless

And I saw something I didn’t like at all. You seemed so "careless" in regards of your surroundings, me, your actions.... everything

Careless how?

You didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone at that moment. In other words, you were pushing people away at that moment in a way that was not nice.

That was insecurity. It's there, it comes up. It has to be addressed. That's why I’m very careful of controlling the environment

Don’t be a control freak.

I can burn bridges. I am good at burning bridges

I’m a great architect.

So you telling me the world isn’t flat\

I’m saying you scared me because you act like you don’t care which means they are no consequences. It makes you suicidal.

What does that mean?

It means don’t let it happen again

It was your fault. You were an hour and a half late. I got drunk.

You got problems, that’s what I saw.

Sometimes I just need to be talked down off the ledge.

I can’t always be your babysitter. It will get old, real quick. I suggest avoid feeling the need to constantly jump off of buildings.


********
It wasn’t until that night that I had saw the monster I had become. I chased his car. I screamed in the street for him to come back. It wasn’t until that night I realized I was fucking up my life. I believed in nothing. I lost him.

All that time I thought I was protecting myself. All that time I thought I was avoiding all the bad in the world. I was my enemy. I had to learn to let the fear go. Maybe that’s what love was about—the letting go of the fear.
********
So what happens now?
We go our separate ways.
You don’t believe in second chances.
You haven’t even given yourself a chance.
I’m sorry.
I know you are, just get some help. And then maybe we can talk.
I’m sorry.
*********
I didn’t get it until that night. I didn’t get it until I saw the fear and sadness in his eyes that I caused. Before, I was always apologizing. I had the tendency to act out, embarrass, cheat, push away. I guess I felt as if everyone was against me. I didn’t realize I had become against myself. I would’ve killed us all. I wouldn’t have cared. But I did care. I couldn’t ignore that I did care. And that was new. It meant starting over. Going back and correct the wounds. I realized it wasn’t him that I was chasing that night in the rain. It was me. It was like the ghost of me was in the back of that car. Maybe I did kick that fast bastard in the back of his head. Maybe I did smash his head against the window. Maybe the car did flip. Maybe we all died and I never made it home. The car sped off into the rainy dark. I don’t remember going to sleep. I just remember thinking maybe I died. It felt good.

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