Notes to self

[j4]

1. Requests for communication always result in a complete cessation of communication. Possible action: stop requesting communication from people who despise me? Remain silent for rest of life? (Would even that be enough?)

2. Holidays do not help. I always end up taking with me the thing from which I most require a holiday. Possible action: find a job which doesn't allow holiday? Get rid of the thing from which I require a holiday?

Comments

[hairyears.livejournal.com]

I haven't been single for more than a few months since I was 14

Lucky, lucky you. Of course, it isn't luck: you are someone that people like to be with, for reasons you'll probably never believe. Lucky you, too, going out with somebody who isn't going out with me, that you are among poly people: everyone else would've had The Conversation about that, and shut the door in a very final "Let's just be friends and I'll try ever so hard not to say 'F**k off and die' to your face" kind of way.

I got used to eating and sleeping and just being together over a five year period and when it ended I never adjusted to being 'single'. It's never a bed, it's an empty bed; it's never a meal, it's always eating alone; it's always there, the sense of incompleteness and an existence that really does need something to validate it. Once you've given that bit of yourself in a relationship you never are enough of a person in your own right again - or maybe you never were, but now you notice.

And you'll never know what it is that you give: I don't think anybody ever does.

Nile the relationship counsellor. No relation to Captain John Smith the Steering Around Icebergs consultant.

[j4.livejournal.com]

No, it's isn't luck: it's the sort of hopeless clinginess that means I'll go out with even the most unsuitable people rather than try to confront and control my own life, rather than try to find any sort of meaning and purpose within myself.

Also, being easy helps. It's amazing what people will put up with if they think they'll get a shag out of it.

Lucky you, too, _going out with somebody who isn't going out with me_, that you are among poly people

Wrong again, sorry. I'm going out with a married man whose wife doesn't know, and will never know. He'll never leave her. My "poly" friends mostly a) think he is Evil Incarnate (they're wrong) and b) disapprove of the whole thing anyway (they're probably right). I'm not really supposed to talk about it. Friends mostly change the subject if I even so much as mention him. Unfortunately, he's absolutely everything I've ever wanted, except, well, available.

At the moment there's only one way I can see to resolve the situation, really.

[hairyears.livejournal.com]

You're right, that isn't luck.

Witter of Discontent

[hairyears.livejournal.com]

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's Majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain