A lover I don’t have to love

By christa 1 June, 2023 random

I’m back! And so happy. I desperately loved being in New England but Colorado’s home now.

Plus I’ve got a lot of dick lined up.

Loljk.

OR AM I??

For reals tho I actually am in a delightful little situation right now. One that has surprised and overwhelmed me with its intensity. He is taking up all my focus and energy. Running on a constant loop in my head. And I am loving every. single. second.

I know it won’t last. This magical bubble will pop sooner or later. The spell will be broken. And we’ll be back in the real world.

But we made a promise to each other. To forget the inevitable and simply enjoy the moment while we’re in it. We’re floating inches above the people underneath.

So yeah. that’s what we’re doing.

And you know, if some tiny secret piece of me is toying with the absurd thought that maybe there is no bubble and maybe MAYBE this is the way it’s supposed to be? It’s okay. That secret piece is foolish and silly but part of this moment, too, and I won’t pop the bubble. I’ll let it be, to run its course.

Guys. He is so cute. so cute. I deserve this.

But tomorrow never comes, right?

By christa 23 May, 2023 random

It’s your birthday, so I read something you wrote. That’s my present to you. (Actually I read it yesterday. But still, happy birthday I guess you big old turd.)

It was really good. Which annoys me. I want to roll my eyes at it. I want to think it’s dumb, that you’re dumb, that I’m missing out on exactly nothing. Big deal. you can string a few words together. So can a stupid AI. Who even cares.

But instead, I read it and I didn’t roll my eyes. I loved it. Ugh. Even more annoying, it didn’t make me feel bitter or angry or sad or jealous. It made me happy, with warm feelings of tenderness. I want to tell you about how good it is and why. I want to talk to you about it. But I can’t.

Tomorrow I’m going to NY for the rest of my little mini vacation and I can put these MA memories to rest.

Tonight maybe I’ll dream about you and we’re still friends and tomorrow won’t ever come. (Till it does.)

The past whispers to me from every tree.

By christa 21 May, 2023 random

It’s a little surreal for me being back in Massachusetts. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. 6-7 years I think? But nearly 10 years since it was with my whole family.

The last time we were all here together, we were ALL HERE. TOGETHER. As a single unit. And things were kind of sort of absolutely totally miserable, I was so unhappy. So unhappy. Insane from the unhappiness. Things were so dire that I packed us up, almost on a whim, and moved back to the hellscape that is Arizona.

It wasn’t Massachusetts that made me unhappy. My misery was G. My misery was who he was turning me into. My misery was me.

I’ll never know if I made the right decision. Things got so much worse, before they got better. And who knows how different things could have been, if he had just been decent. I try not think about it, about all that once was. all that was lost. And I usually do okay, most of the time. It’s easier in CO. It’s easier to dismiss and forget. To resent. To simmer in the bitterness. To let go. To hate him. To just move on.

But here, the past surrounds me. everything comes rushing back. like I’ve turned on a faucet. So much of this place is woven into the fabric of my world, stitched into my skin like scars.

Here, I let the memories flood my brain and body. I’m seeing it, I’m breathing it, I’m hearing it, I’m smelling it. All the good, all the bad, everything in between.

Here, I almost like him again. his frenetic energy, his twitchy anxiety. It doesn’t stress me out, because this is where it belongs

Here, everything feels familiar and warm again. Simple. Natural. I walked off the plane and felt every fiber in my being sigh with pleasure, every nerve relax. Sure sure it’s because I am on vacation from the day to day of my ordinary life. But it’s something else, too, something more.

Because some places, no matter what has happened, some places just hold your heart.

It makes me sad and nostalgic and lonely. It disorients me. I’m in a daze. A hazy daze. I want to stay here, to never go back, to settle deep into this place and let it drown me.

I’ve got another week here, most of it by myself, as my little family will soon separate, one boy going home to CO, the other staying behind for a few weeks. And me, lost in limbo, somewhere between then and now, stumbling to find my way to a truth I can accept.