game over.
i lost, and it wasn't even a game worth playing.
i guess the question is: "Do I let this cycle continue with the next new face?"
Tonight I wanted to grab Chris and kiss him. I wanted to kiss away lonely and anger.
I wanted to kiss away the last one, like I kissed away the one before him, the way I kissed away before the one before that one, the way that I kissed away the one before that one etc...
The point is that "this" is "what" I "do".
It's how I cope with what has been gnawing at my soul since I was a kid.
It is so, so, so stupid and self-destructive.
Nothing ever changes and each situation I find myself in, as a result of my coping methods, breeds even more anger and self-hatred.
I'm full of these things, and when I'm full of anger and self-hatred, they spill out of me, and onto everyone around me.
They turn in to jealousy, vindictiveness, disloyalty, and so on...
And all of this ugliness takes place because I can't seem to be alone.
Because I'm broken.
Because there is a gaping hole inside of me that I'm trying to fill with human beings and the affection, attention, and approval that they have the power to supply me with.
And then there is God...
Where is He?
Where did I leave Him?
Is He so little that He can be left?
Who even really knows?
Some people appear to.
They talk about Him like He's their best friend.
Some talk about Him like He is a Santa Clause.
Some treat Him like He's their own personal sugar daddy.
It would be easier for me to discount his existence entirely, than it would be for me to sit on Santa's lap and tell Him what I deserve as his little princess.
Joel said I'm thirsty, and he's right; I'm freaking parched, but I'd rather thirst for the real water, then fill my stomach with sticky syrupy sweet interpretations that I see people drawing from the wells around me.
That must make me so bad, so stubborn, so wrong.
I'm so hard headed, so lost, so out of control, so everything...
I KNOW.
I get it.
You really don't have to tell me.
Victor told me to run to God and Joel told me that my motives for doing that don't matter, that whatever your reason for turning to God, it's a good one.
That can't be true? (that's a question)
Motive is EVERYTHING.
Can you tell me differently?
I am looking at old pictures as they pop up on my screensaver.
I'm remembering what I felt, if I was happy, and what was driving me at those moments.
In the pictures that matter most, I am alone and in the moment working towards, or struggling through something.
In England I was 3,000 miles away from everything and everyone that I called home.
With a camera and a lot of writing, I made it through.
It wasn't pleasant always, alot of it was miserable, but I remember that miserable and lonely time with fondness...because I did it...the moment was mine.
I want my pictures, my words, my life to mean something...
And most of all, with that same fervent gnawing that has been with me since childhood,
I want it to be mine.
It has to be mine before I can ever hope for it to be someone else's.