don't know

(no subject)

I've had love used as a weapon
Held to my throat
"If you loved me you'd help,
If you loved me you wouldn't leave
If you loved me you'd give up your life, for mine"

I've had love yanked away.
a punishment for a crime
I didn't know I had committed

The slow fade
A vice around my heart
Slowly turning day by day
So when he gave the final spin
"I don't love you anymore"
Crushing it to pieces
I collapsed, unsurprised yet unbelieving

And the quick change
From singing me to sleep
And never having enough
Talk,time or touch
To "pick up your stuff"

I'm guilty of it too
Breaking my own heart
For the greater good.

Of leaving a love
being rational
Making the right choice
and sobbing my eyes out every night
of hours long phone calls
Because I miss you
Even if I can't be with you.
Of letting the distance grow
We must move on

The ones I don't love
I still remember
There's the haze of distance
My heart doesn't skip a beat
But I remember how it felt

The ones that are closer

The crush that crushed me
It was over quickly
the wound is small
But Its deep
And still bleeds when I pick it

Or the friend
Who will go on a rant
About some obscure math problem
I have no hope to understand
But he's so excited
And like lyrics to a song I listened to on repeat
But haven't heard in a decade
It all comes back to me
"Oh right, I love him"
And I can sing a long for a few verses

You'd think I'd get jaded
A callous around my heart
But I can't
I don't fall easily
But when I do
I let them in

I'll get hurt again
I know this doesn't end
But the pleasure is worth the pain
I won't die with no scars
I don't regret where I've been
don't know

(no subject)

Darling I'm sorry
That you think I'm your whole story
We were only a chapter
And the book keeps getting longer

I know that you're hungry
For love and affection
But I know you better
Than any other
And I really believe
You could use some starvation
love story

(no subject)

I remember the first of July
When you said that you loved me
And I wanted to cry
Instead I kissed you, and swore
Till I could find a reply

Your voice
Was the soundtrack of that summer
and I felt your body by mine
always touching
A hip or a hand
Like I would fall apart
If you didn't hold on

That summer I kept my eyes closed
So I could feel you better
I could hear you singing to me
Your chest was my pillow
Our hands laced together
Like nothing could break us

That was the summer of explosions
We watched every show
In parks and in cars
You held me close
As they lit up the sky

That was the summer of road trips
I sat in the back
My arm stretched over the seats
So I'd have something to touch
And you'd have something to kiss

That was a summer at the beach
We'd talk and we'd laugh
Sea salt and sunscreen
We floated in the water
My legs wrapped around your waist
And we kissed in the waves
Risking death for a taste

A decade has passed
We've long since fallen apart
Ten years of coming together
And breaking apart
Of loving you or trying not to
But I can still close my eyes
And remember that feeling
Of holding your hand
and falling so freely
don't know

(no subject)

I'm awful at love
But I excel at longing
Leave the state
And I can't get enough
Ill write you a book
Poems and songs
Essays on love

In the same room
I'm farther away
I'm full of jokes
Sarcasm and sharpness
You cant get close enough
To touch

Close to you
I have to be mean
So that later
I can explain
Why you didn't love me
Just in case
You stop loving me

I know it's pathetic
I wish I was different

All I can think
Is what if I fell
let myself drop
And instead of the wind
Lifting me up
There was just the hard ground
Breaking my fall

I am fragile inside this shell
I'm scared of being broken
I don't know if I can heal
don't know

twins untwined.

I've dyed my hair and bought new clothes. Totally new style, not more jeans and t-shirts. I say I just want to look more mature, less like a kid. The pretend to believe me I know I'm not really fooling them. I hear the hushed conversations.
"He seems to be doing well"
"Yes, but the changes. . . Maybe it's good? A part of grieving?"
"Its been hard on everyone. Hardest on him I think"
"Well losing a brother of course. . .but a twin. . .i can't even. . .but he seems better. I think he's okay"
I am not okay. I know there's no solution and losing myself won't help. My siblings lost a brother and my parents a child. My loss doesn't diminish there's and I shouldn't make it harder. It took me far too long to understand that. I was angry for a long time. Angry they would presume to understand my grief, to think they could comprehend it enough to help. I despised them for their pity, their clumsy attempts to help. They never had what I lost, what was ripped from me. They never lost half of themselves, never had a voice in their head silenced in one quick blow.
I know it's not their fault, but when Ron finally got fed up and said "we miss him too you know, your not the only one who loved him!" I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip off his arm or tear out his eyes and scream "oh we miss them too, we loved them too! Time to move on can't wallow!" I stormed off a lot the first year. Walked alone, tried to lose myself in memories and pretend it was still the past.
Time has passed. I don't think I've gotten better, but perhaps I've gotten better at pretending.
I still feel tiny, insignificant. I've shrunk to half the size I was. People only say half my name, they trail off, used to saying his next. They flinch when I look into mirrors, it must be odd seeing me doubled again, or maybe they think I'm seeing him. I'm not. I try sometimes, late at night, when the sleeping pills and the drinks aren't enough to stop this ache long enough to let me sleep, I find myself in the bathroom, leaning in to the mirror staring at my reflection. I try to call him from me, to see what other people see, to see him, to not be alone. I try to make his expressions with my face, the smile, the smirk. It never works. It's always just me. I watch as my face crumples and blurs,I want to punch this weak bastard sobbing over a sink. He's not what I want!
I do see him sometimes, always unexpectedly when my minds somewhere else, when I'm walking the street I'll see him next to me in shop windows, I don't turn to look anymore. Instead I watch from my peripheral. I let myself believe, just for a few seconds.

My family assures me I can talk about him, I don't need to keep it bottled up. I smile and nod, I accept their effort. It's not that I don't want to talk about him, or that I can't think of anything to say, the real problem is I think if I start I won't be able to stop. I'll talk about him every time he's on my mind, everytime I wish he was here, to say something to or hear his thoughts on something, even just to experience something with me,I'd never stop talking. Like something out of a fairy tale I would talk and talk, untill my voice gave our and my throat bled. With aching lungs I would talk about him and try to wish him back, the words would pile up and bury me in an avalanche of loneliness. I am stoic only because my sorrow is too all encompassing to share.

They talk about him, they grieve and laugh and reminisce. I nod and smile along. Often the stories are about "them", they reminisce about our adventures and our lives. It's strange to hear a story I lived from someone else's point of view. Occasionally the story is actually about me, they never could tell us apart as well as they thought, and we never really corrected them. Hell half the time I couldn't tell us apart. I never correct them, to do so would just be cruel. It could've just as easily been him. Anyway I suppose they're grieving me too in a way.
One brother died and another lost in grief and rage and emerged as this new person they don't know. I know I'm different, I'm quieter now, I listen more than I talk and I don't joke or hatch crazy schemes. It's so much quieter in my head and I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. The silence where his voice used to be is so deafening I feel as though I can't speak over it, so I stay quiet.
I wish I could help them, but I'm powerless without him. I try to just stay away, to avoid those who remind me what I lost, to avoid reminding them what they've lost.
I try to just keep going. Keep breathing, keep moving, keep waking everyday and letting time pass and drag me along with it. I am doing nothing but surviving, it takes all I have.

Some days I hear him, his voice sneaks into the silence, into his old spot. It makes a joke that makes me snicker and an inappropriate time, or calls me an eejit when I'm acting like an eejit. I know it's all in my head, and the first couple times it almost ruined me, it left me in bed sobbing for days knowing it was just a hallucination, just my wishful thinking. Now though I hold onto it, I know it sounds crazy and I know it's not real, but it feels real and some times it's all that keeps me going.

So I go on, the one who lived, the lucky one. Of course I don't feel lucky. I feel abandoned and so very alone. Everyone assures me it'll get better, that someday I'll feel normal again. I can't think of a bigger betrayal than to forget him, to feel like he didn't matter. I think the day I don't miss him, the day I don't wish he was here is the day I'll finally give up. It won't be worth it anymore.
don't know

Steve Ch 5

Driving over for our second date I was excited and nervous.
I found the street easily and as I pulled into the apartment parking lot, I noticed a really pretty women in maroon jeans carrying grocery bags toward the apartment building. I parked, got my purse out, took a deep breath and got out of my car. I found the right door and knocked. I heard Steve yelling "hold on, I'm coming,one sec ahh" and then finally opened the door.
He invited me In no introduced he to Sarah who was in the kitchen in her maroon pants putting away groceries. A bit strange that my first look at his wife was to check her out in a parking lot before actually meeting her but I kind of internally chuckled and said hi. Sarah was polite but focused on getting groceries put away and running off to pole class, my first impression of her was just that she was a bit stand off ish and absurdly pretty. Her in jeans and a tshirt rushing off made me trying my hardest look like crap. She's got red hair pale skin,thin but in that athletic way not in the "She needs to eat" way, she's basically the embodiment of what every guy says they like as physical attributes for a woman. I couldn't help being a bit intimidated, why was her husband seeing me again?
I sat on the couch feeling slightly intrusive as Steve finished getting ready and then he kissed her goodbye and we left. him kissing her goodbye was very strange for me, that was the first time it felt weird, like I'm going on a date with a guy who's married to this woman! That one standing there, not some hypothetical wife figure.
I drove, Steve directed me (horribly because he assumes everyone knows Orlando as well as he does) to this Greek restaurant, we ordered and talked, and talk and talked, we laughed at the weird waitress (a recurring theme we seem to have bad luck with waitresses), and talked about... You know what I don't even remember, but I can say with certainty it was interesting and we were absorbed in the conversation. Steve wanted me to try the appetizer he got and some of his food, he's probably the least selfish person when it comes to food, he just wants everyone to share the things he loves. Which works out well because I love trying other people's food. I remember feeling so comfortable with him, he was so interesting that the waitress eyeing his ring finger or the people glancing over when we got too rambunctious or said something strange didn't matter. After we finished our meal Steve suggested and immediately shot down some options for things to do "we could go to a movie, but we couldn't talk and nothing good out" before deciding on mini golf, I was all for it because it's one of those things that you can still enjoy when your bad at (as opposed to everything else I'm bad at). We went and golfed and goofed around, we talked and flirted and had fun. A few holes in while hugely in the lead Steve suggested we make it interesting, the loser gives the winner a lap dance. I agreed and then proceeded to beat him!
We went back to the house and put on some Star Trek because I had never really watched it and Steve wanted to remedy that, Sarah came home said hi and then hid out in the computer room to give us some privacy. It felt thoroughly strange to be on a date with someone who's wife was in the house. I felt like she was going to walk in while we were kissing and tackle me or just be disapproving. It's funny how knowing something intellectually doesn't change you're feelings about it. Steve knew I was feeling weird and assured me it was fine and we joked around and watched the most ridiculous episode of Star Trek. Pretty soon I realized I never cashed in on my lap dance. Now as I mentioned Sarah does pole dancing, so there was a little room with a pole and mirrors, Steve got a chair and put on a random pandora station on his phone. He gives a decent lap dance. The song was some weird rap song with the chorus "whoooooes that girl" which made us giggle every time. It was hilarious and I got to grope him a little which was certainly a plus, he later said the song choice made that a hilariously degrading experience.
After the amazing lap dance we watched more tv and made out, he suggested we move it into the bedroom and even though I was feeling kind of strange about the situation I also really wanted to sleep with him so I agreed. We went into the room, I wish I could remember more details but there's only snatches. I know I felt like it would almost be rude to be too loud and I was trying to tamp down my tendency to be obnoxiously loud and moany but then he went down on me and that went out the window. Holy shit he's good at that, the sort of good where you don't care where you are or who's around. After that most of my uncomfortableness went away. We had sex, and thank god it was good. He felt amazing, I didn't have to squirm around to change positions, he wasn't super intense or just trying to finish.He seemed like he was just enjoying it. Sex with Steve is fun, it's like this awesome activity you guys are doing together. I love it, I hate people who take sex super seriously because if it's not fun why are we doing it? Afterwards he jumped in the shower, and I actually jumped in after him and we sat on the bed and talked and made out and sort of cuddled, but more laid down for half a minute and then got excited about what we were discussing so jumped up to talk about it.
It was getting late and Steve suggested the before I leave we sit in the living room and spend a bit of time with Sarah so we get to know each other and to hopefully make it less weird for both of us next time I was over.
So we went to the living room and had to coax Sarah out, she didn't want to interrupt us so we had to reassure her that really we wanted her to hang out, seriously it's fine, come sit down! It actually made me warm to her, she was sort of new at this too, trying to do her best in a scenario that you don't really have any practice for.
Me and Steve were on the couch so Sarah say across from us on a chair, we talked about different things, we bonded discussing okcupid and online dating in general and how horrible it could be. She said I look better than my pictures and gave me sincere, strangely specific compliments.
So it was with somewhat mixed feelings I realized that Sarah is fucking awesome. Which is almost unfair. You should not be allowed to be gorgeous,smart,kind and funny. It's too much, be a worse person, give other people a chance! So we talked and Steve suggested Sarah come sit on the other side of him, she did and we teased him for be so pleased with himself for having a woman on either side of him. It was flirty and silly and he kissed me, and kissed her and it somehow escalated into him kissing her while I kissed his neck and him kissing he while running his hand un her leg. After a little bit of this obvious if undiscussed foreplay, Steve asked if we wanted to move to the bedroom. Not that we had to do anything but it would be more comfortable. Still teasing him about how happy he must be and how great his master plan worked we moved into the bedroom. I was nervous and excited, it felt both like an absurd turn of events and also completely inevitable. Well of course the night I met this married man I'm seeings wife we would fuck him, it practically a cliche. I would've felt like it had really been their plan all along if It wasn't obvious how spontaneous it was. Steve was so pleased, like "I can't believe this is really happening but maybe if I don't say anything the spell won't break". We went to the bedroom, Steve was mostly unclothed at that point thanks to us, as he finished undressing I slipped out of my dress and underwear and Sarah took off her clothes, she has a fantastic body, i was too caught up in everything to compare or feel self conscious, I didn't know if I was allowed to touch her, and to ask would be to ruin it so I focused on Steve and she did the same. I don't remember every detail, but snapshots of it, me looking down at Sarah giving him head while he an I were making out, he was started kissing my neck and I watched her thinking I should pay attention to what she's doing so I'll know what he likes and I remember her sitting on his face moaning while I fucked him, every upward stroke I would move close to her, it was completely surreal but absurdly hot.
After he finished she told him he should finish me off, she said I could use her hitatchi wand if I wanted and assured me it was clean before leaving the room so Steve used that on me. It definitely deserves it's reputation. Thoroughly exhausted when we were done, I realized it was very late and I had to leave. I drove home switching between amused and dumbfounded. At the very least meeting his wife went well.
love story

(no subject)

You're asleep on the couch
Wrapped up in my blanket
My favorite blanket
The big soft blue one

It makes me realize it's not mine
Not anymore
When this ends
And it will end as all things end
It will be "our blanket"
The one in this memory
And many others like it

Of nights spent curled up beneath it
Of watching tv
Of talking
Rubbing your back
And falling asleep on your chest

That's what I hate about dating
When it's over
After you say goodbyes
You find you've given away all theses things
Things you wanted
Thins you thought you were just lending

Now I can't watch this show
Listen to this song
Read this book
They're yours

Someday I'll have to buy a new blanket
Pack that one up
And pretend I don't mind
But for now
Next time I wrap myself in it
It'll smell like you
love story

(no subject)

I didn't write the book of love
I doubt I'm even in it
But I loved you so much
I hope you know I meant it
Every look
Every touch
I tried so hard to send it
But it's not enough
And so you had to end it

My pain is proof
That I loved you too
I know it's not enough
There's nothing left to do

Now I drink and call you up
Beg you to believe it
I can hear you roll your eyes
You tell me to just leave it
love story

(no subject)

We've never lived together
We've never spent the night in the same bed
Never cooked in the same tiny kitchen
Argued about bills

You're the sea side town
I go to on vacation
I love the landscape
But don't pay taxes

I bask in your sunlight
But don't see the winter storms