Abuse

You wake up in pain on a gory nauseating nightmare that involved morgues and torn organs. I have suffered abuse tonight. I was abused when I was inadvertently subjected to tear gas just because I happened to be downtown. I never imagined we’d suffocate on tear gas together but it happened.

But the emotional abuse came from him, when he decided to leave me to be able to continue flirting with someone else. Where is my dignity, I wondered. You kept whining about how late the time is and now suddenly you have the time for this shit? The chocolate bar won’t do and the sudden kiss in the middle of the street won’t do either. And then the crazy thing is when you feel that he’s the person who can mend it up and set your right.

I don’t need this shit, I thought. Am I jealous? I don’t think so. Wait. Maybe I am. Maybe I do want his full attention. But what I really want is respect. Why couldn’t he respect my feelings? And what does respect mean? That I become boring.

He made me feel so replaceable. It sucks. My deeply held anxieties are awakened. He’s much younger and he needs to experience stuff. Which is unfair because I feel like I only began experiencing stuff too. We’re supposed to be grounded and settled because we’re older. But I’m at the phase where I want to get mad.

And you feel like younger and skinnier bitches should die. Die bitch die. And you feel like you want to die, because you don’t want to take the humiliation. You want to annihilate yourself before it gets even worse.  

I don’t love him, I think. I think I’m excited by the way he makes me feel.  Does that make him expendable? 

Is he with me because I’m available? Because it’s fun? Because it’s pleasurable? Because it’s safe?

How do people endure abuse in relationship? It’s so damaging? We’re not that intimate and I’m already going nuts. Is this the norm?

Oh Sylvia!

Happy Birthday!

Work, work, work in between social media distraction sessions. I updated my cv. Man, that looks real good. Catching up on tasks old and new. Still much unfinished. I love it when I get so indulged in work. We are workaholics indeed. Looking at some photos from last year. My trip to Kenya was something. To Bali was even a bigger something. I am doing stuff. There is pride. I must be proud. I met people, interacted and influenced them. Why shouldn’t there be pride? The word Prime comes to my mind. It’s a beautiful word, isn’t it. I don’t mind social media birthday wishes. Yes, human communication has more to it. Isn’t it better than not bothering at all? These are the new rules. We should be grateful. There is content. Somewhere deep inside. It took a long time to get there. Own it. Don’t be afraid of it. There is beauty. Feel it. Show it. Seduce them. Play. There’s solitary beautifulness. Try. Enjoy. Dance. 

Sleeping with the enemy!

I had the courage to say hello. He said hello back. We went off for a walk. Away from the maddening crowd. Soon after, we were making out on the street. He was touching me all over. I was touching him too. 

Have I lost my mind? He was trying to see through me with his eyes and his passion. I was trying to see through him with my silence. Scared to reveal myself. Just wanting him to speak. I also wanted him to listen but wasn’t sure if I would make any sense or if I would scare him off.

He asked me not to fuck, although he’s the one who fucked me. Was it double speak? Why does he use all those idealistic words? Why is he being moralizing? Quit smoking? Yes, I want to but not because of you or because of God.

And why are you so beautiful and want to be with me? What do you want from me? You said you don’t want sex and then you do it. I do want to touch you though. You’re so young and stubborn. You’re opinionated and passionate. It’s hard to resist that. Why has it become so hard for me to believe I’m worth it. I’m worth loving.

You mentioned a party in your phone call. I only dare asking you about it after we fucked. I’m blown away. It’s FJP. Yes, you’re religious and so, but FJP? What does this mean? I’m sleeping with the enemy? Can anything come out of this? Can we be together? Can I reveal myself to you? Would you accept me?

You were close to tears. I saw that pain. He gave you hard time, didn’t he? He wouldn’t let you in and that wore you out. But it made you love him even more. Oh how ignorant you are. You have no idea how hard it is for me to let you in as well. But would I ever say that to you?  

What of us? And where will we be?