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11/4/00 and earlier
Sometimes I write to vent my anger and frustration. Some of these writings I give to Erin,others are private, and some I post here. Eventually, I will write some happy prose, but my happiness is fleeting and based on temporary amusement. Today I posted this free-verse poem, :Empty", "Alone", and "The Answer".
A poem.
The greatest love I have ever known
site lonely inside me
The greatest need in my life and in all our lives
leaves me cold in its absence
My true happiness does not come this early in life
I have waited too long
I seek a person, with whom to share all my love
I seek the warmth that only a loverīs soft breath can give
Hope is the only happiness that lasts very long
I have no hope
Empty
I am cold and empty without her. I am usually without her. I need warm memories of her to comfort me in times of depression. There are no warm memories, only coldness and loneliness. Hope is warm, but she crushes all hope. Why do I stay with her? I am weak. I know not how to be free, to seek warmth. I love her, but I long for her. Whern I am with her, she melts me, but leaves no warmth when I leave.
Alone
I am utterly alone. Nearby, my mom makes some crap for dinner. My dad sits in the living room, watching TV. They are parents. They act like parents. They think like parents. They are good at being parents; they play the part all too well. They play it much too well for my sake. They know that I am wrong. In their heart of hearts they know I am wrong. I know that there is no right and there is no wrong. I know that I know what I need. I need love, not from them, but from another person, a peer, a girl, a lover. Many girls love me; none make love to me. Many are sad that I am depressed; none can cure it. Many wish that they were here; none are. My love did not kiss me today, though many times I wanted to kiss her. My love never cuddles me as I sleep; though every night I wish she was here. I would give the world for her, but instead I give my sanity. I want to hold her. I need to have her. I love her thoroughly and I need to know, thoroughly, that she loves me too. No amount of words will fix me. No amount of encouragement will cheer me up. They have tried; they have failed.
Why do I want to be right? What is right? What is my position? My position is, I know what's best for me. Maybe not "best" exactly, but I know what I want, what I really want. No one knows exactly what I want; I cannot articulate my desire with any words that do justice to my grand ideas. I want love, but I have that. I want attention, but not from my parents. I need time away from them, both of them; they smother me. I want touching, nice touching. I want long, slow kisses. I want hot, passionate kisses. I want all these things now, and I want them always. Is it right to want this? Is it right to have all these things? There is no "right" and "wrong". There is only your bullshit and my bullshit. I just happen to believe in mine. If someone could convince me that I'm "wrong", even though I don't believe in that sort of thing, I would still want all these things, I would still not have them, and I would feel even worse because I was "wrong." I don't like my emotions; I love my ideals. I don't like my parents' emotions; I hate their ideals. Their ideals are killing me, literally. Dad, you say I need responsibility? You never give me a chance to learn. You never give me the chance to screw up. You never give me the chance to have fun. I don't even know how I would arrange a chance. Do what I tell you, stay away from me, look positive god damn it, and just let me be.
Parents are parents. Kids are kids. Parents were once kids. Kids may become parents. It is an awful cycle. I know their part, but it still hurts inside me. I know my part, and it haunts me like some phantom. Nothing can make it go away for long. Self-inflicted pain is good, but it is fleeting. A moment of gaiety with friends is good, but it is fleeting. The warmth of my love close to me is the greatest joy of my life, but I am cold now. Do I know what is wrong with me, what is wrong with my life? Yes. I am lonely; I am alone. I have love inside me; I have passion as well. For years, I have longed to touch my Love, softly, sweetly, slowly. I have longed to comfort her, to let cry against my chest when she needs to. I have longed to hold her against me as I sleep. I have longed to care for her. I have longed to make her happy. I have longed for too long.
The Answer
I don't want to say "sex is the answer," but sex is the answer. It is not my choice; it's just the way I am. I'd like to be happy, but it's just not in me. I am kind, caring, compassionate, sweet, loving, passionate, and well read is all things sexual. 16 (I'm almost 16) year olds should not know any of these things, or so I'm told. It is not possible to satisfy my desires for perfectly innocent physical contact. If the world will not accept me, I must hide from the world, taking my affection in private; it is not how I want it. I want long dinners with my love, I want long nights with the fireplace roaring, and I went, nay I need these things now. I've been waiting for 16 fucking years. At least two since my romantic ideals have been consummate. Any social or romantic situation with a girl will only instill longing and emptiness. There is a fine line between love and lust. I need both satisfied and nothing will do that. I think I have love, but it does not satisfy me without satisfying my romantic ideals, ideals that they say no teenager should have, ideals which no teenager can be trusted to fulfill. I can only hope sex satisfies the lust; nothing else has. The only activity that will not make me worse off is sex. All others will start the hormones going but leave no release. It's male PMS, and it hurts. I cannot help feeling the way I do. I must try to cure it. I will never have an hour alone with a love, caring, mature girl. Probably I will have to make do with some slut. This is not what I want. It's not even what I need. It's what must be for all the other alternatives are closed to me. My parent's have no idea of what to do, but they know I am wrong. My friends are worried about me, they understand, yet they are impotent to help.
Why do I keep coming back to sex? Is that all I want in life? No, it is not. What else do I want? I want love, attention, and a good job, a loving wife, a family, and happiness. Those are all far off. I have stopped complaining about the computer. I don't really mind not having a car. Money will not buy happiness; the best things in life really are free. I ache with a Passion stronger than anything I have felt before does. It is a need for love. A romantic, passionate, very real, and very mature love. I need time alone. I need to gaze into the eyes of my true love. I need to know that there is someone whom I would give the world to. I need to know that they would do the same. I don't think it's selfish; I don't require a lot. Hugs, kisses, time. I need someone to have and to hold. Someone to be completely open and honest with. Someone to never hurt and someone to take all the pain in the world for. Someone to make me happy, for I would make them happy too. I can do that; I've gotten close before. Somehow I am not happy; there is still emptiness inside me. Is it anyone's fault? It is a result of chemistry and society. Society implants the desire for closeness, true love, passion, and yet it also makes these things taboo. I cannot change society. I need not change my true love. I must only change my actions. These thoughts come unbidden but if I do nothing to satisfy them, if I do nothing to redress the wrongs brought against me, if I do nothing, I have no one else to blame.
I had Truth, and I had Beauty for two weeks. I loved those two weeks with my Love. She did not change, but I was satisfied for those two weeks. My rational side overcame my emotional, romantic side. People tell me that I lost my true self then, and I did. I lost my inspiration, my passion, and my grand prose. I was sad for people, but only the few that noticed and myself. Mmmhh, it was beautiful though. Perfect, that's all I can say.
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