Have I mentioned that I sleep in a hammock now?
I sleep in a hammock now.
It’s making my dreams as vivid as reality.
Last night this human captured me into water filled moments (more on this later) and a deep self awareness. Then my dreams held a less appealing human that rejected me over and over as I attempted to stroke and have him. He gave in eventually but it felt fake and wrong. I licked over the same memories that heated me last night and felt them cold this morning.
Firstly that name sounds wrong. When I’m near him it works to communicate, but when away my mind doesn’t accept it within my internal tinkerings. Yet, my mind barely accepts English when thinking of him. Even outside of him I’ve grown sick of this language. It is confining.
If you only think within these words are you confined to their meaning?
I’ve started making my own words. Sounding in my head to understand my surroundings, myself, and events. Thinking in new ways. It barely fucking works. I so quickly and desperately reach for English as it autodrives me. I’ll be thinking of an image or moment and try to form new words but my mind says here they are!! We have the English words right here!!
Fuck you to my love mind.
So actually on Dustin
Last night he actually started speaking to me. Not with the ripping rejection seeping out of his tongue and into my ears down to the soul, but the speaking used before we fucked. This gentle and caring voice. This voice isn’t specifically mine. He uses it on everyone and only seemed to use the rejection ripper on me; from what I heard at work.
A quick Brennan Note
When I was with Brennan I dealt with pain that he actually wanted me and didn’t reject me. I was deeply rejected as a child. In basics my mother would have these red flashes and forget what was said. My aunt has these as well. I’ve forgiven mother but my brain clings to those deep forgotten dwellings as though it can’t actually forget them. She would walk out of the house and leave, saying it was our fault and our family wasn’t good enough. She would blame us constantly to the point I thought this rejection was normal. This rejection is what I functioned in and what I took as reality. My brain wired itself to this somehow (I don’t have a hypothesis on this…I honestly don’t feel like analyzing it that deeply just yet).
She even recently told me that religion was the top 100 things she could want from her children and everything else was after that. The sting of this…that I wasn’t good enough despite all I’ve worked for in this life that seems to fucking supercede being a fucking Christian…the next morning she’d completely forgotten she said it. I brought it up like the fierce warrior mental goddess I am (shut up and let me encourage myself). She truly didn’t have that memory….isn’t that fascinating? So much of our childhood she has blocked out and I don’t even know where it is.
More than pictures she’s lost our memories.
So we discussed it the next morning and she mused over what she said. She said that it matters greatly but that she was sorry and it was only the top four. What changed? Why do we get so fierce when initially venting out our frustrations and then get the ability to control what we say later?
Back to Brennan
When I was with him I was always waiting for that rejection. I realized this from every single time I got high around him life felt like a deep fucking lie I was waiting for him to confess to. Just say you don’t love me and never did. I needed him to.
This was not a high normalcy.
I would get high with Woulfe and Abbey and just be happy (skewed memories maybe but I specifically remember joy in being happy from those highs). Abbey and I danced to the night dark air of our apartment, old dances that just came through our bodies.
Then with Brennan…I would watch his face and carve out the truth, yet it never happened. Since Woulfe and Miles may have lied so deeply my reality became very broken. He was the one person I could not talk about after the breakup, but was the one person everyone needed me to talk about. I left everyone as he pulled me away from them…he became the person that I loved and no one understood so I went away from them. The full Woulfe story is to come.
I needed Brennan to reject me in order to confirm my reality. I say need very strongly because it was the deepest feeling of my inner self. Fuck I’m sick of English.
Flenteshrofeltin. Ench ork tenfenel. Estet.
When I told this to my therapist she grew dim in the face (as in sad not stupid). It was the moment I felt it wasn’t normal. Not everyone was waiting for rejection. All of the relationship I thought silly or of denial when I saw them…that was me projecting rather than other people not being able to feel love too.
Fucking…Back to Dustin
He asked me if I was okay when fiercely tapping a Sharpie against my hand as I walked through the Alamo Drafthouse halls. The tapping was from debating how to give up my theater and switch to a support shift if we didn’t have enough people, but also contemplating how to handle seeing Dustin that night.
He spoke to me yet again as I passed with a tray, saying “Don’t drop it”. What the actual bantering fuck. I freeze mouth around him (rejection evolutionary tract became more takeover than memories of the past (fear of rejection outweighed previous passion feelings)) lately and so I just replied “okay”.
In general I’m actually socially exceeding with humans. The other day I was walking by and Cara was talking about who she’d fuck at Alamo and I was number one with Hannah at number two. She had no idea I was rounding the corner and I sauntered up and said “I would too” then walked away with a classic sex swag. Dustin was there…there is a moment that happens when my mind registers he’s there and has a momefreak. Reality actually registers contrastingly and admits it wasn’t there. I wanted to backtrack and lean into him saying he was my true fucking desire.
I would actually be very open about my desire for him at work if I knew he wanted it. I’ve noted mentally the times I may have fucked us up. At his house we were laying across the couch and he told me to “come here” and kissed me long and deeply. Then I heard the door open and, thinking he’d made it obvious we weren’t getting together, I moved away. This was out of respect for him but he may have taken it as a me wanting to deny us. I also do talk to humans a lot at work and they respond with affection and love. To me it is all friendship but I know it might be deeper desires for many.
He sees this…and every time I see him interact with a female I want to spring wide into the air and tackle them. My primal urges erupt and then there is deep pain…what if he feels that too?
What if Last Night he Overcame That?
I’ve planned telling this human that the thing he burst out to Toni (he burst into her theater saying everyone here wants to fuck me) doesn’t matter and that there’s only on person I want to fuck at Alamo and it’s him. My confidence cowers to my fear of rejection every time I almost say it. I’ve even been taking gin shots before work to try and make it easier. Gotta love that S’well bottle and a large purse.
I’ll get really fucking close then rebound into cave walls and slam my head against the walls.
Right after we fucked I tried to hang out, even after he rejected me multiple times. At first he just stopped messaging me, and then I would ask him at work to hang out. He finally actually spoke to me (after many days of three words or less) and said he couldn’t handle it. Someone had said he had a girlfriend (which I never said) and he didn’t want that. People also kept picking him up and saying congratulations for fucking me (another thing I didn’t spread). Rumors circulate that place and grow without anyone actually confessing is the thing. We haven’t had an actual talk since then so he might still thing I spread all of this.
I keep even wanting to ask to just talk about everything outside of work but…if he says no it will rip me apart.
Then last Night
He spoke to me a couple of more times with no malice. He fully rebounded…but just back to before we fucked. At one point we were walking down the hall talking and I stopped, said “it’s weird to talk again” and walked away faster. I couldn’t handle full sentences..they felt like pain. I want so much more from this human…I can’t handle just being friends at this point.
This woman was outside of a theater in pain. We couldn’t figure out what it was but her face was pale and she seemed like she was about to have a baby. Two patrons asked what was wrong and she said she didn’t know. They asked where her husband was and she told them the theater behind us (theater 3) and they went off. I asked what row she was in and she didn’t respond and I felt social anxiety of all things (when near this Dustin kid I lose all confidence that I have fully when away). The two patrons found husband and he rushed to her. At this point I was phase watching…loving and sinking into humanity as they helped one another, and watching love run before me.
At this point others were rushing around her and I stepped out of the way to avoid crowding. Then Dustin saw it. He went up and then walked away. I heard our manager tell someone to get water and I told her our theater had it and went to get some, desperate to help in some way. I wrapped fingers around the frozen and melted water then led it to the situation. As I handed it Dustin was walking up the hall with a bowl of ice water and a rag.
Fuck…I love this human.
1) Obsession (to escape rejection)
2) Confirmation of Broken Reality (he rejected me so it fits my past and thus I cling to that reality)
1) Obsession (as it feels similar to Miles and Michael( counterpoint…it took time to obsess over either of them while Dustin is immediate, but counter to that Miles and Michael took longer to reject me, counter to this I chose Woulfe over Miles initially (implying the deep desires weren’t there) and Michael…well we actually clicked well from meeting one until now)
I know Dustin feels the same as Miles and Michael when it comes to that desperation. I am highly fucking aware of that, but what if there is love beyond obsession for me? The obsession part is where I can’t function without thinking of him (constantly connecting to his obsession) and barely being able to access that connection to actually be able to release it (Descarte theory of fully feeling to get over something). The pain and hippocampus separation (disconnect) keep it from me I believe.
Yet…the way he becomes captured into my soul just by existing or when he looks into my eyes is far beyond obsession. If I randomly see him without having to look away (in the moments he can see me) I find myself staring and melting, feeling deeply connected to him. Last night he was leaning against a wall and it was the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my life. It was just his back.
Every time he lifts things…just…
It feels like all of my life I’ve rejected what wasn’t love I searched for something real, and now this real is before me and I can’t even have it.
My twin and husband are happy around me, blissing out in their love, and usually I love soaking it in and being the third wheel, but now it hurts. I want that love and feel I can have it…but I can’t.
tldr; still debating if it is obsession or a soul connection (also moments about mother and her rejection affecting that debate)
P.S. If you are a first time viewer to this blog I request you begin at the beginning.