i believed in you

i dont know what life is trying to teach me. i don't know if i will ever get the idea. what i am missing. and why things are so painful sometimes.

a series of events, men. i slept with a persian boy that seemed to genuinely like me. i was filled with his attention for me, and stopped paying attention to who he was. and then one night let him get close enough to fill me, literally.

i liked it so much physically, that i continued to believe there was something there. this is the metaphor for what i see happen over and over again. i like something so much that i let it fill me, one way or another.

after 4 days of no word, it slowly dawned on me. the whole point was that moment. that conquering. i grew livid, and issuedan angry goodbye.

the specifics from here are unimportant. i went on to listen to and believe a lie of an excuse, then saw direct evidence that the boy was lying. became engulfed in an effort to restore my pride, my dignity in the matter, and have been left, empty handed.

then tonight, another man, full of promise, full of words. for whatever reason circumstance brings him to a place where the words once again fall flat, the expectation is masacred. and in the end its my own stupid fault, for believing in the first place, anything.

so.. all of these examples pointed to the larger example. that fucking isreali, a year ago. same thing. same stupid pattern. only bigger than any to date.. the most important one, left to empty silence, its the grandfather of all of these ... and ive written about this bottle of scotch, this bottle of hope, empty hope against hope, because... because i really believed in him you see, i believed in him, in love, in faith, in all of it, and contrary to all evidence i continues to hold on.. and then, tonight, im watching myself, a beautiful woman, continue to ask a boy who has continued to evade me to spend the night with me.. why? because i just don't want to be alone. i just want to pretend for a minute that someone, anyone, cares about me, and you know, at this point its like i dont even care who.. just somebody, just somebody pretend to.. at least for a little while..

but it tragic isn't it? because i finally got angry. and this anger is just a face to a body of pain. i... i must be really lost. i must be gone, so lost. its all i can think when i see myself this way. because in this anger, this complete and solid anger, i marched in and grabbed the bottle of scotch. ive been waiting on it. i have been waiting for something, for something monumental. for a decisive moment. well, this would be it, i would take it all out on this bottle. i would smash it, into a million peices like i had seen repeated in my minds eye, over and over for the last 6 months, i would definately do it now, and so i did. i marched in, grabbed the bottle off the top of my refridgerator and marched back out, but not before taking a picture of the mottle in tact, whole, minutes before its final destruction. and went to the back and in the rising sun went straight to the back back, planning to screem and fling with all my might from a distance. but on my way, there was a car, a man in it, an interuption to my final dramtic close. an intruder.

so i had to circle and come back towards the building. i though that someone would see me, from the condo at this early hour, i thought maybe its not the time, but if not now when? how long can i continue to wait, to put up with this crap from all of them? i had to break it, right now.

i looked at the white brick building next to ours and to a swing at it, a practice swing with the arm that held the bottle. and then whooosh. i threw it against the wall and watched it bounce off.. then fall, and SMASH, flat on the ground. shattered.

just like my heart.

and as i knelt down to take pictures of the mess left of it... a feeling of great trauma came over me. i thought of him, and how he always lets me go. how he never wants me, never holds on, never keeps me near him. a wave of grief overwhelmed me again. i knew that when this bottle broke so would my hope, this is why ive been avoiding it for so long, this is why iive been not thinking too much about it.

i sat looking at the peices, the beautifully typset label, and picked up the broken peice that held it, all still in one piece. i madly considered bringing it back with me, then recognizing my insanity, i threw it down again, watching it break more.

"i believed in you" i said to myself, outloud. i believed, i thought, in something.

at least.
why

should something so beautiful be turned on its heel and wasted. why should i be left so empty handed, constantly?
i believed in you, i thought, and the grief of losing that simply drowned me, in tears, toninght.