ravingsofabeautifulanarchist

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Last night I had a dream, that the love of my life, the only person I allow myself to still love despite all the pain he put me through; the only person that no one can compare too, because our love, our love transcends anything I’ve ever felt with anyone else before and after him. Had a child with the person he betrayed me with all those many years ago. A child. And in my dream I wasn’t half as bothered by it as I am writing this now. But why am I so bothered in my waking state? My love has shown me heartbreak, rejection and deceit for many more years than he showed me kindness and love. My love only reaches out to me to make sure he still has a hold on me, every once in a while and then leaves me in the dark when he knows I’ll never stop loving him. My love, decided to give himself, completely and utterly to a girl he told me not to worry about and yet I can’t seem to give myself up completely to any other man because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching me as intimately as he did. Even though my conscious mind knows that he is not worthy of me, my unconscious mind has branded me his, everything I am is his. For this, I am to blame. I have grown so accustomed to this pain he causes me, it’s my drug. Every time he dismisses me, every time he ignores me, every time he bails on a planned conversation. I get my daily fix of pain. Savouring the way it makes me feel less than. Relishing the way my heart catches in the centre of my chest then drops to the pit of my stomach. Taking pleasure in those whispers dancing in my head, telling me I’m a fool, that I should have known better, that I am unworthy of anyone. I have gotten so used to this pain, that nothing seems to fulfil me as much as the mistreatment my love gives me. No amount of love and attention from decent suitors. No number of healthy loving relationships do it for me. I always need my fix of pain. I guess you can say I have a problem and that I do. How is it that a person can feel more alive with pain than with love? Oh my love you may have led me down this path. But I’m the one who’s carried on in your absence, moving further and further from the light, relishing the darkness. Now I’m the one to blame.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

“For you my love, I write down all the things I long to say but dare not utter....”

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Clarisse often wonder if she was really okay. If she could be fixed. She had pushed Kristian to the far recesses of her mind and was now back to her old chipper self, actually, she felt much better these days, but still she was different. When something that you’re so scared of happening happens, and your world crashes around you but you build yourself back up, something happens in you. She became more cautious, more hesitant, more isolated, doing everything she could to never get back to that low point in her life. That’s where she was, and that’s where she had been for as long as she remembered, deathly afraid to feel that way again. To feel unwanted, rejected, cast aside like she was nothing. It was because of her fear that she didn’t fight for what she had with Gawain. It was because of her fear that she couldn’t even try to be with Nadeem. It was because of her fear that the love of her life would soon be someone’s forever. And it was because of her fear she’d eventually end up alone. Because loneliness didn’t scare her half as much as making herself vulnerable to someone else again.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

I just had a dream that you scolded me for being in your space, your place, my biggest fear. Trying to hide from you but you seeing me all the same. With a look of disgust on your face and the words “I understand you two are friends but you don’t see me bringing in my soon-to-be-wife or my friends here all the time. This is business.” And my heart stopped, sped up, dropped, I wanted to die. You made a statement so sharp that it cut, reminding me of my position in your life, nothing, none existent, I’m no one to you. I once was the only person you smiled for and blushed for now, talked to but now I’m nothing but dirt beneath your shoe. I then tried to apologise for my intrusion but you quickly dismissed me. And that hurt. I grabbed my belongings and left as you were asking me how I was doing...that’s right, how am I doing with no job, nothing to show for the year I spent studying. Reminding me once again that I’m nothing without you or your company. That I all I am is nothing. Last night I had a dream about you, a nightmare I could call it really. A nightmare closer to reality...a reality I call my own.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

“Oh honey, all I ever wanted was to lay in bed with you until I learnt all the secrets your body kept hidden from the world.”

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Part I

I first loved you before I knew what love was, before I loved myself. I loved you because through you I learnt to love myself, my imperfect self. You saw me and you saw perfection, with my thick thighs and chubby face. You saw me and you adored me and I adored you for loving me. And you loved me for who I was, you loved me even when I was being difficult and impossible and unloveable, still you loved me and I loved you more but then you changed. You threw me aside like I was nothing, trash. You broke my heart, lied to me, used me and played with my love and I let you for a while, because I thought, no one would love me like you loved me. I thought I’d never love someone as much as I loved you. I was broken for a time, lost even and then I met him. He made me feel something again. When he came into my life all I’d known was fear and pain from this sick game you’d started. Coming into my life and fucking it up. Saying that you loved me when your girlfriend was cheating on you, a girlfriend I knew nothing about until you told me years later, confirming one of the biggest fears I had, then ghosting me every time you worked things out between yourselves. I was lost and I was hurt and I was doubtful I’d ever know what love was but he came waltzing into my life with his million dollar school boy smile, his wavy hair and his nerdy banter and I fell deep. Deeper than I thought I could but I never made a move, I couldn’t. I was damaged and unwilling to let myself get hurt again so I kept my mouth shut and my feelings hidden. Feelings I struggled so hard to contain. All of a sudden my dimmed world became brighter again. More bearable. I longed for the moments we’d be together and the little laughs he’d elicit from me with his random jokes followed by that smile he’d have almost as a little achievement star that he got me to smile or laugh or roll my eyes at him. And it felt amazing for a while, to love someone, to have something largely untainted by the past and for a time I revelled in it.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Reading Call Me By Your Name gets me so emotional especially during the last couple hundred pages. It’s sort of an homage to love that you have between soulmates and the reality that comes with it. In most cases you never end up with your soulmate. They come into your life like a blinding white light, one that reveals a world of colour you never seemed to have noticed before them. You get so accustomed to that colour and the warmth of that light that when they leave, and they often do, you find yourself back in the darkness. The dullness you never seemed too bothered with before them, but which now saddens you to no end. So you go through the rest of your life in this...as the book puts it...“parallel life”. Going through the motions of life. If you’re lucky, then you might meet someone who lights up your world...just not half as bright as they once did, but enough for you to be content with them. If you’re not, then you’ll grow accustomed to your darkness, afraid to let anyone who might possibly chase your beloved darkness away, someone who might make you forget your bright star on certain days. Either way, you’ll always think about your love, you’ll always miss your light, your other parallel life. Dwell on what could have been. This is what Elio and Oliver did and this is what many of us do. Live incomplete lives.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

It’s pretty funny when you think about it, how this ‘switch’ occurred. I moved from thinking that you were the only one for me. That no one could replace you. To realising that you actually weren’t the one for me. Yet I still find myself in a sticky situation. In some sort of weird limbo, one where I can’t seem to allow myself to be swept off my feet...to fall in love. All my friends say it’s just a matter of time, but I can’t envision it, I can’t imagine feeling anything for anyone the way I felt for him and you, both toxic situations. I guess you could say I’m all ‘loved out’, but I think I’m mostly terrified that I’ll fall for someone who will continue the trend that I’m trying to run away from. Someone who will come in and demean me, make me feel less than I am, reject my love or exert some sort of weird control over me, like you and he did. I’m afraid that I’m unable to love someone who’s kind, loving and caring. I’m afraid that I can’t be in a healthy relationship and that scares the shit out of me. So I sit here, most of the time, seeing everyone fall in love, move on, get married and what not, and I envy them to an extent. That they can do what I can’t seem to do...trust, fall, love and be loved in return.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Amir

Amir sat down in his cramped little office – ‘his’ – a funny little thought, one riddled with pride. His company was steadily growing, and he liked it. Next step: get those chaotic squatters out of his main office space and make the place more fitting. He could picture it now, he’d add a couch in the foyer and add a whole load of plants to the office space. He seemed to like the thought of a green, chic creative place for his employee, well employees now, he subconsciously corrected himself.

It had been two years of just him and his partner Hansen and their employee Erwan alone in this office, working as much or as little as they’d like but this year was different. They were going to put VI on the map, it was going to be a gold mine and he was going to make a profit out of it if it was the last thing he did. They had just hired a Project Manager, courtesy of Hansen’s wandering eye – for fuck’s sake that guy always had his head up someone’s skirts, desperate to please whatever girl could stand to have him – hopefully this new addition – what was her name Mia? – would actually be of some use this time, he thought as he stared absently out the window.

“Hello, my name is Clarisse, I was wondering where I could find VI”, he heard a soft, almost shy voice in the foyer inquire. Shit, he’d forgotten that Cora’s daughter was coming to intern with them today. “Hello Clarisse,” he heard Hansen call out to the new intern. “We’re in here, it’s great to meet you, thank you for coming in a week early. I hope you didn’t mind. Currently, we’re using three rooms, and you’ll be seated in the meeting room for now.” Shit, he better go and introduce himself before he becomes ‘that boss’, you know those egotistical pricks that walk around with an air of superiority – that would never be him, he’d be a relatable boss, a fair boss, loveable even – nothing like those assholes he’d come across in his life.

As he hastily walked out of the room to meet this new mysterious girl, Amir found himself in awe of the person standing in front of him. Clarisse had a softness to her demeanour and a hardness in the way she presented herself, a delicate and undeniable beauty she was. Her jet-black afro hair curled around the nape of her neck, her brown hidden behind a pair of dark glasses that complemented her full oval face, eyes hard set – all business, he mused. She wore a much too large cardigan hiding most of her formal office wear and voluminous curves which proudly stood out despite her clear efforts to hide them. Off off off off, see, touch, taste… the words drifted through his mind, as he studied at her, which surprised and angered him. Where did that come from? He couldn’t tell.  

Clarisse was nervous, it was evident in the way she clutched her bag, yet she did not shy away from his gaze when he approached her. “Hi, I’m Amir,” he said as he firmly clasped her dainty hand in his much too big one. He liked the way it felt, shit he shouldn’t like the way it feels. Amir let her hand go immediately. Shit, that was rude, he sounded all too business, and let go of her hand way too fast. NOT. FRIENDLY. AT. ALL. Clarisse had stepped back again, next to Hansen, she felt comfortable with him – he noticed irately. That was clear by the way she stood next to him, shielding herself behind Hansen, from his gaze. Suddenly, Amir had a strong – and irrational urge – to throw Hansen through the wall and take Clarisse in his arms. MINE his mind bellowed, as he clenched and unclenched his fits in an effort to stop himself from doing what he’d regret. Where the fuck did that come from? He wondered again, uneasily as Hansen led Clarisse to the meeting room as he watched her disappear in the room in front of him, he couldn’t help but wonder why her presence had affected him like that. Shaking his head, Amir picked up his bag and left the office, he had to get back to his ‘real job’ you know the one that pays the bills.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Clarisse

October 2014

Clarisse looked at Kristian’s yellow room, lazily encased in the shadows created by the curtains Kristian had drawn for their privacy. She was going to miss this boy, she knew it, she felt it. Somehow, he had become the centre of her universe and she knew she was the centre of his. Right now, he lay on his bed, his body utterly spent. “C...” He whispered, as she finished buttoning up her shirt. “You’re leaving tomorrow.” His voice a broken whisper. Fuck! She was really going to miss her boy…her heart. As he sat up, he pulled her close to him and she sat on his lap, cradling his face in her hands. “My handsome boy,” She thought. Kristian was a sight to behold…his skin, a deep mocha, was slightly flushed from earlier, his big brown eyes, open, trusting and broken…only for her, only to her. His pink lips swollen from their kisses…her kisses…his perfect jawline clenched tightly, she could see he was trying not to cry. Clarisse had been strong all this time, never truly thinking about leaving everything…about losing him, but when she saw that, the wall she thought she had fortified started to crumble.

“Clara say something, anything...are you okay with leaving? You haven’t cried once and I’ve been here crying this whole week.” Kristian whispered. With that, her wall came crashing down and she cried…she cried for him, for her, for them and her fear of the unknown, of going to a place where she knew no one, away from her family and her heart. Kristian pulled her closer to his chest, letting her cry, comforting her, whispering words that calmed her, words of reassurance. When Clarisse finally stopped, Kristian trailed soft kisses around her soft, puffy, swollen face. “I’ll always love you Clara, I’ll always be here, you’ll always have my heart. You Clara, tu es mon âme, and when we’re done with university, I will make you my wife,” he professed. The gesture a sliver of sunlight brightened Clarisse’s darkened heart. She could do it, she could do anything with him at her side…and for a time, just before she left, just before he said good bye…she let him hold her and let herself get lost in him, in them, one last time.

[ravingsofabeautifulanarchist]

Dark

Oh the familiar addictive ache for pain. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. I guess you could call me a “cutter” except all my scars are internal, undetected, the way I prefer them to be. I’m addicted to it, this pain. This sadness that comes with the thought of losing that one person who means the world to you. And being utterly and completely alone, unwanted, rejected. It’s sick to feel this way. But I like it. I like the tightness in the centre of my chest, how my breath catches in my throat, how my heart goes into overdrive just before that mist of sadness and self loathing washes over me. Claiming me as it’s own, whispering that it’ll never let me go. It’s funny, once upon a time I dreaded this feeling, despised even, but you broke me and I’ve let myself stay here, in this familiar mist, deathly afraid to give love another go. Desperately afraid to be rejected by someone else. That’s why I always come back to you, because I don’t have to fear what’s coming, if I already know what you’ll do. Lie, cheat, abuse and reject me. All the things I weirdly believe I deserve. Yes I’m sick and I’m broken but I like being broken, because once you’re broken, you can’t break anymore.