Monday, August 09, 2004

How much power do you have? (I'll never tell.)

Wow, I was in such a bad mood today. It was my fault mostly. I expected the people that usually piss me off to piss me off before I even saw them. Of course, they did not prove me wrong or anything, but I could have saved the bad mood for at least two hours. Yeah. Ugh.

I'm in a much better mood now, here at home in my bubble. I like it here.

So I was really thinking about deleting that last post, but I wont, because I want to.

I have trouble getting close to people. I don't let people in because I am afraid they will hurt me. And well, sometimes they do. But then I guess, if you don't hurt one another, are you really getting closer? How can we find all the buttons not to push if we don't push them first? I don't know. I'm just a hermit crab. I am always hiding.

I even hide here. I don't tell you names. Keeps me safe. Maybe you cant hurt me if you don't know what power you have. Because it gives someone power over me when I say I like you, or I love you. That gives them the power to cause me pain or happiness. Most people are ignorant of this.

I am sensitive. I hide it well. I pretend it didn't matter. It matters a lot to me. Maybe when you forget something really important to me. Or when you don't seem interested in what I'm saying. Ill just stop talking and then you will missing something important that I might have said. I say too much when people listen to me. I feel comfortable and I just keep talking. I show them a little more and it is power too. Someone showed me that today.

Just a name I told her and she hurt me with it. I was ashamed of myself. I talk too much. If I had stopped talking sooner, I would not have said the name, and she would have not power. As it is, here I am scared to death and mad at her. Ill never tell her another thing again, you can bet that. It was the name of a boy I used to like. I said it to her. I was writing a poem. Maybe I shouldn't say that, but I will. I was writing a poem about how I hadn't said the name in years, but it was always in my head, a living memory of a feeling. And she asked me the name. I told her. She said it very loud in front of everyone. I told her to be quiet. She said it louder. People turned around and looked at me. Did one of them know him? I don't know. I was embarrassed and red-faced from it and anger and I turned and walked away without another word because that's what I do when I am mad. She called to me but I did not turn around. I can still feel the heat on my face. Now I cant remember what I was talking about.

Oh yes, so she was reason enough for me to see that I shouldn't tell people things. Anything. But I don't want to do that. I don't want to live in a bubble of safety. I might get hurt but then I might feel something real in the process.

Did I ever say how nervous it makes me feel when someone looks right into my eyes when I talk to them? I love it and it scares me at the same time. I am afraid that they will see everything, and they just might, but then it is like they really care, like they actually take the time to look for me. I went out to lunch with Sarah a while ago and she did that. That made me feel like she was a real friend. A true friend.

My dad looks like that when he is drunk and going into one of those long religious discussions with me and I hate it. I wonder if he can see the disgust on my face. He is not my father after he starts drinking, he becomes someone else. So I come upstairs. I think I'll just save the rest of that for therapy when I'm thirty.

I do love him when he is not drinking, aka: before eight o'clock. He is a great dad then. But then, nothing he does before eight o'clock can make me forget the rest.

Well, I have already said too much for tonight.

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