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late night, early morning

November 14, 2013

Somewhere around 6am, seemingly seconds after finally passing out around 4am, I woke up and watched MTIA as closely as I could in the darkness. I wished I could understand how he sees me, sees himself, sees us. I kissed an exposed shoulder, upper arm, and felt the lines of raised scars there. I know I have several on my chest and stomach that must feel similar when his lips brush against them. Lately, the scars aren’t enough.

In his sleep, MTIA sighed and curled himself into the mold of me more tightly, I buried my face in his neck, and I sighed too.

Sometimes I am able to grasp, only for a moment, the concept of time as the fourth dimension… duration in space. It is a stunning moment of clarity and then gone in an instant. That moment when I sighed was like that. For only a moment, I felt like I could just be myself, embrace all that I am, embrace all that MTIA is, and that we could love who we are the way we have always wanted, but have always been afraid of. Fuck the self-deprecation for the status quo’s sake.

I love who I am. Really. I love who I am. I might be nothing more than mediocre, but that doesn’t surprise me or concern me. I could mean the world to someone who means the world to me, even if I’m just mediocre. That, in my eyes, is one of the most important aspects of life and the consciousness we have been given.

If I just started enjoying who I am instead of trying to be someone from the status quo,  I’d love life a lot more than I do. But no matter how hard I try, I seem to slip back into the lies I shape so efficiently into my perception of reality. I honestly don’t know who I really am. Does Borderline Personality Disorder exist in the DSM-V? I thought that wasn’t an “official” thing anymore. It… makes sense. On the other hand, I’m more inclined to conclude I’m just suffering from another bout of existentialism. I find it’s rather easy to confuse one for the other.

I think about this some, and when I’m next aware of myself, there is blood, just a little, running down my right arm. There is blood on the knife in my left hand. And ever so quickly, I hate myself again.

Well there ya go, Hoss:

I’ll never be okay.

I cancel plans for the foreseeable future with both TLTL and MTIA.

Trust no one.

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From → fiction, rants

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