I'm wishing...

Last night was another where I couldn't stop the flooding. It's the death of dreams and expectations. I hurts so much. I had a few very good days, but the reality of what is happening--has happened--pains. Even as I type here at work my eyes well up. It's an enhanced breathing technique that keeps them from falling. On lunch I drove around aimlessly. No room for hunger in a body starved for feeling. I drove by the apartment not knowing what I hoped for. I hugged him goodbye before I left. The sun will rise and so will he and when I come home the room will be empty again.

I forgot to put wetting drops in my eyes so now I'm blinking every few seconds to try and get the foggy film off my contact lenses.

What history will reflect is that this relationship ended in June of 2000, or perhaps November, but definitely by December of that year. The next year was a concerted effort based in love, but always carrying around the betrayal. What is happening now will someday be seen as the only logical choice; one past due.

There is so much anger in me and rather than taking it out on other people, I take it out on myself by recreating these relationships of abuse. The psychology is simple. Grow up in an abusive household. I turn that anger inward and excel in school, sports, drama, volunteering. I get out in the world and break free of the abusive home only to seek out similar abuse in my intimate relationships because that's what I know of love. Yes, simple. Now breaking the cycle is where simplicity loses. Here's where at the first hint of feeling truly drawn to someone I have to step back and go the other way. But it's not all I know of love. There's the warmth of my grandmother that hugs me tenderly. It's that feeling that I search for in someone else. Someone that can take care of me as much as I can of them. I briefly talked to Juan about this early Sunday morning. These new people in my life emerge. Become.

School begins tonight. Two years of focus. Please not the Ford kind. So much of me wants to unravel, but I think experience has taught that I've passed that time.