(no subject)
[Apr. 16th, 200811:37 am]
There’s this idea that makes quite a bit of sense to me, I jokingly call this idea the idea of fifteen feelings. That we only get fifteen feelings in life. Fifteen feelings. The first fifteen feelings you have will be the ones that stick with you for the rest of your life; the appropriate feeling will present itself in a situation similar to the last time you experienced the feeling, you’ve got this list within you of just fifteen feelings. There’s this function within you that scrolls the list to pick the one that best suits the present context. I’m not a psychologist, and there are clearly a lot of philosophical problems in this proposition, but I’m not looking for certainty or perfect form. I’m just talking about an idea that sometimes makes sense to me. I probabl pick the number fifteen out of some natural inclination towards alliteration anyway; Im a sucker for the cheap tricks. Nonetheless, it does make sense.
Like this morning when I woke up and read your essay about me. I think you’re dumb and naïve, and you can say nice things way too easily. You’ve got some skewed picture of me, one that clearly didn’t take into account the fact that I find it impossible to believe anything good that anyone says about me. I allow the negative to soak in, and this is the way it’s been for a while now. I could talk about how I justify this mindset but the point Im sticking to for now is all about the fifteen feelings.
Another way of thinking about it…it not JUST the first fifteen, because there are certain contexts which have their own lists. There are specific spaces within you waiting to be filled with feelings.
The feelings I acquired in my first serious relationship are the ones that make me the asshole that I am today when dealing with you. The fact that I use the word ‘dealing’ is so telling of the feelings my body tells me to feel for you. I can feel them already wanting to scream when you tell me there’s people sleeping in your bed, and that you’re still drunk…I suppress the feelings of anxiety and jealousy that three specific occurrences have instilled within me. The night when it all cracked was the night that I swear those last few spaces got filled with the most terrible of feelings. Such feelings that were so strong at first that they ignored the cues…didn’t ever wait to be called upon…they just spoke out of turn snd jumped into the forefront whenever any feelings were to get involved. For an entire year there was nothing else to feel but those last few feelings of misery. It’s not your fault. It’s not even mine. It’s the way my limited little body was made, so that when you say those good things, it’s hard for me to feel. Therapist said something about spending years in situations your body gets sued to feeling certain things. Perhaps my body got too used to feeling like shit from spending years in a place that I was never really happy about in the first place. Like some bird in a cage, who had to have his wings clipped just to be able to accept the limitations of his little world. Just accept these walls and accept that your so small that you can fit inside. And when you say those things that aren’t even all that bad, I just want to start accusing and telling you to fuck off because I’m still angry about being this bird in a cage. It’s not a reasonable reaction, for that’s just what it is, a reaction….a feeling invoked, a feeling recalled from some other time in my life. Feelings that I felt for someone else. There are many striking similarities though in the way this story is starting to unfold: I’m not all that committal, in fact I’m trying to avoid making this happen…I don’t give you anything to go on. I don’t really even like you all that much sometimes….but precisely that is what draws me to you sometimes… the fact that Im annoyed that somebody Im trying to stay away from can bother me so much when she tells me the things that she does. I know she’s trying to make me jealous…but it works.
I’ve made two promises to myself that I haven’t yet kept. The first was that I would never kiss you out jealousy; that I would recognize when my arms wanted to hold simly because I wanted you to be closer to me than the other boys in the room. That I wouldn’t wrap my arms around you to control you, and protect myself. Jealousy made me make my move though.
I also made a promise that I would never kiss you out of empathy. Then when it looked as if you were going to cry, I wouldn’t bend and break to soothe your ache. But one of the feelings I’ve got within me is one that just wants to do whatever it is that will make things okay for you. You looked like you were going to cy the other day and before I knew it, my promise had been broken. My feelings lack the foresight to realize that

tearing away will hurt that much more the longer I leave the bandage on for.

So you see, it isn’t me that can’t be with you necessarily, it’s just this weak little body of mine and the fifteen feelings I’ve found, and let slip onto my list. It’s really just the last few that are preventing me from getting closer to you. They are far too strong to ignore, the fact that your baby has a dad, and that he’s over all the time. I’m so much better than you, and it’s situations like that that will render me weak all over again. I will not allow these wings to be clipped again. But now I am sure that you are an amazing girl, and I am but half of a man. I need things for my own and to only be mine. I hate the way this mind forms thoughts; I hate the roads that my mind always feels inclined to follow. I would do anything to just be beside you now but to not feel so hollow. Wit poured from his lips and he found himself the life of the party at times-he left feeling so miserable, dreamt of death-and woke in despair. Oh what despair plagues us all, a word that get's used to explain it all....this isn't about the fifteen feelings...these last few sentences have been added when this was written a while ago. Despair-what is behind your despair that you are so afraid to face?...what lied behind his suffering when he seemed to have a better grasp on things than everyone else in the place. What renders you so afraid. A capacity for vivid memories and images in the mind-I've always been a collector, never thought it would render me useless and alone in this horrible isloated place. I have memories and images. I never should've let my tongue slip, I never should've said those things to you. I never should've written about you, I should've waited 'til you were fully mine to reflect upon how amazing of a time we have. Despair. The road blows dirt in his face and his hair is flying all over the place; buys a cheap drink at the variety store and avoid the place he steals from. Feels bad about all sorts of things. Can't get a grasp upon anything. What is it that leaves him in despair. Afraid. So bloody afraid of everything. So bloody annoyed by everyone else's easygoingness, when he is stuck up in some tangled mess. How do they all seem to understand it so much easier. How do they all just go with everything. He is a fool. A rememberer, a collector of feelings. He is afraid to move forward. He is afraid of failure, of letting love die for a second time. Overzealous soccer moms live for their children's success, forget to consider themselves. There is no pleasure that I can feel, I only want the best for you and it prevents me from doing anything good for you for any longer than a day; I am not alive, I am a collector needed to be saved. Look at where I am right now, still young with a life ahead of me, but in such a way I cannot see. I see the number twenty three clicking over to twenty four, like the digits on an old alarm clock, minutes are years in life, why I just want you to be my wife. why I can only think about the amazing things as things I need for me and only me. I am no-one though, I am insignificant and hiding while others are out there nightly writing and riding the wave. It is the lack of consideration that paints me into this cave....my insistent judgments upon the subtleties of other's easy loving needy ways. I could never watch them drool on you in the way that others seem to be okay with. Violations-fifteen feelings. I want a new list...one that takes into consideration a human's need for happiness. I am grounded in despair and will never escape so long as I keep thinking of you as the one that will save me. I need to save myself, live for myself, and do things for my own fulfillment. There a thousand things happening all around me that I am understanding far too clearly....when what I need to be understanding is what will allow me to live freely and far from this anxiety.
You make it well known, and though you say things that nobody has ever said to me before, I wonder why, and how you can possibly feel these things for me when I’m not even sure that there’s anything inside.