All I ever wanted was you.
Everything else was extra; I, myself, didn't want everything else. You did, and I wanted you to be happy. Now I feel I am losing you and I know it's my fault. The unhappy truth is, without you, I would be left with this stuff I never wanted and it would only remind me of you. I never wanted the house, the cars, the stuff. You did. It made you happy, these things we have. Even though the clutter pressed down on me like an avalanche, I put up with it because you wanted it.
All I ever wanted was you.
You are still all I want. I want you to be happy. I just never thought it would be without me - but, like the clutter of stuff around the house(!) if being without me is what makes you happy, then so be it. I'll live. I'd rather see you smile at someone else than cry around me. You think you are inadequate, that I'm going to leave you for someone younger, slimmer, prettier, more willing. It won't happen. It can't.
All I ever wanted was you.
08 April 2018
26 June 2017
Seeking help
She is the one person in the world to whom I went when I had problems. Now, however, my problems are with Her...so I can't really go to Her for help. I still want to talk to Her about my problems but talking to Her about my problems is only making them worse, it seems. I might need to start talking to someone else. I am, of course, talking to you at the moment, but it is a rather one-sided conversation, wouldn't you say?
Life is crazy when the center of your world doesn't seem like they want to be there anymore.
Life is crazy when the center of your world doesn't seem like they want to be there anymore.
Descending
I've been writing her letters, trying to express how I feel about Her, reminding, reassuring Her that my love is for Her and Her alone.
She never responds to anything I write except for the few times I've been less than upbeat in my word choice. Ok, not completely, true. She has told me that She likes getting the letters, She just never responds to anything actually in the letters.
She asked me if I would like Her to write me letters. I told Her that I would absolutely love to get letters from Her. She told me that it would have to be something She did on the weekend, which I didn't quite understand but I thought, so be it. She can write me letters when She chooses to do so...I am disappointed to see this weekend almost concluded with no letter from her.
Again, her words and her actions seem at odds. But, also again...am I reading too much into this? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? Is this just in my head?
Let's see what tomorrow brings.
She never responds to anything I write except for the few times I've been less than upbeat in my word choice. Ok, not completely, true. She has told me that She likes getting the letters, She just never responds to anything actually in the letters.
She asked me if I would like Her to write me letters. I told Her that I would absolutely love to get letters from Her. She told me that it would have to be something She did on the weekend, which I didn't quite understand but I thought, so be it. She can write me letters when She chooses to do so...I am disappointed to see this weekend almost concluded with no letter from her.
Again, her words and her actions seem at odds. But, also again...am I reading too much into this? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? Is this just in my head?
Let's see what tomorrow brings.
Sliding backwards towards Hell..
I am still having trouble determining what's real and what's just in my head.
She is telling me that we are ok. She tells me that she loves me. We have resumed (some) normal activities as we did before I went halfway around the world. She isn't sleeping all day like She was before. She smiles at me, touches me, talks to me, gives orders, makes requests. She interacts with me, which is a vast improvement. I should be pleased about this. I AM pleased about this.
And yet...there are things that She does which seem to undermine her words. She says she loves me...but She fucks me, then kicks me out of the room so She can get online. She plays a mush..and her preferred playmate is a person named Dusk. I've watched Her while She plays. She seems much more excited to be online with him that in the room with me. She waits for him, looks for him. Gets smiles on Her face merely from seeing him log in.
Sex has never been a big deal for Her, I accepted this in the beginning. Now, however, it seems like an obligation She endures so I will leave Her alone for a while..and so she can go back to him. I tell Her that I want to play with Her - more than just the simple, physical act of procreative sex but physically enjoyable play - but She seems completely uninterested. It is always on Her schedule - it's never spontaneous when initiated by myself. I feel like I am having to beg Her for attention - annoying for Her, certainly, and humiliating for me but such is my need for her that I continue to beg for the scraps of attention she deigns to toss my way.
I know She plays with others but while She plays with others, She is playing or chatting with him. And when they play, there is always an element of sex involved. It seems that She has no interest in sex with me because all Her sexual energy is spent on/with him. Her desire for me is limited because She spends time desiring him. He is more important to Her than I am, I feel. I am merely the father of Her children. No one important at all. Certainly, I am not Her beloved husband, despite what she says.
This all seems so very familiar. When Clarissa and I were splitting up, she started spending more time away from the house. And when she was home, she spent more and more time in the bedroom, alone, on the phone with someone else. I was there, I was the father of her child, but she only made cursory efforts to spend time with me. Largely, meal times and when it was necessary to do any work around the house. Otherwise, her attention was elsewhere, while my attention remained on her. It degenerated to the point that she was offering me sex acts in exchange for permission to leave the house to spend time with the person for whom she ultimately left me.
I feel myself in a similar situation now. She doesn't leave the house to be with this person - not physically, anyway, but in the last two days, She has spent more time online with him than with anyone else here in the house. She has been in her room, with Her laptop, online, with him, coming out basically just for food, which She has either eaten quickly and returned to Her room as soon as possible, or, most often, taken food back to Her room with Her. Nevermind the 4 children in the house. They get attention only when they interrupt what She is doing online. Otherwise, they are my responsibility. Were it not for me, they would not be fed, clothed, bathed, (in the case of the baby) changed or even watched.
She seems to have no interest in much of anything in the house except Her laptop. I could live with that - She needs Her entertainment, after all...and despite my sincerest encouragements, She has yet to make a friend here. I know what it's like to have contact with others only online, so I would not deny Her Her friends, no matter where She finds them. This is different, however. At least, it seems that way to me, and as I've said many times, I am having a very hard time determining what is real and what exists only in my head. What is real, however, is that in the last 48 hours, She has spent approximately 36 hours online. She spent about 8 hours sleeping and about half an hour playing sex with me. The rest of the time was eating, doing a few things around the house, interacting with children, etc.
All the while, She tells me that She loves me. She comes to me and puts Her arms around me, laughs and smiles...I am very confused by Her actions. Some actions agree with Her words and I am happier than I have been in a very long time....and other actions seem like a blatant rejection of me, despite Her words and I am depressed to the point of contemplating suicide. Such is my love for Her...such is my inability to tell what's really going on. When I talk to Her, She says everything is well and we are getting better...so am I just reading too much into things? Is this all in my head? Is this all innocent and I am twisting things, torturing myself with these thoughts, these visions, and it is all unnecessary?
I wish I knew. I wish I could still my brain. I wish I could distract myself. I wish I could sleep all day, like She used to. I wish I were dead. I just want this all to go away, this pain, this torment. Am I doing it to myself? Is She doing to me intentionally? Is She doing to me unintentionally? I don't care. I just want it to stop. She tells me - and I so very wholeheartedly agree with her - that She wants to go back to the way things were before I went halfway around the world. I want that more than anything else is the world. Because that would mean I have Her back. That would mean I am the most important man in the world to Her. That would mean I could be sure that I have Her love, completely, openly, unreservedly. That would mean I have someone who loves me as much as I love them.
If I can't be with Her...if I can't have Her love...then I have no reason to be here at all.
She is telling me that we are ok. She tells me that she loves me. We have resumed (some) normal activities as we did before I went halfway around the world. She isn't sleeping all day like She was before. She smiles at me, touches me, talks to me, gives orders, makes requests. She interacts with me, which is a vast improvement. I should be pleased about this. I AM pleased about this.
And yet...there are things that She does which seem to undermine her words. She says she loves me...but She fucks me, then kicks me out of the room so She can get online. She plays a mush..and her preferred playmate is a person named Dusk. I've watched Her while She plays. She seems much more excited to be online with him that in the room with me. She waits for him, looks for him. Gets smiles on Her face merely from seeing him log in.
Sex has never been a big deal for Her, I accepted this in the beginning. Now, however, it seems like an obligation She endures so I will leave Her alone for a while..and so she can go back to him. I tell Her that I want to play with Her - more than just the simple, physical act of procreative sex but physically enjoyable play - but She seems completely uninterested. It is always on Her schedule - it's never spontaneous when initiated by myself. I feel like I am having to beg Her for attention - annoying for Her, certainly, and humiliating for me but such is my need for her that I continue to beg for the scraps of attention she deigns to toss my way.
I know She plays with others but while She plays with others, She is playing or chatting with him. And when they play, there is always an element of sex involved. It seems that She has no interest in sex with me because all Her sexual energy is spent on/with him. Her desire for me is limited because She spends time desiring him. He is more important to Her than I am, I feel. I am merely the father of Her children. No one important at all. Certainly, I am not Her beloved husband, despite what she says.
This all seems so very familiar. When Clarissa and I were splitting up, she started spending more time away from the house. And when she was home, she spent more and more time in the bedroom, alone, on the phone with someone else. I was there, I was the father of her child, but she only made cursory efforts to spend time with me. Largely, meal times and when it was necessary to do any work around the house. Otherwise, her attention was elsewhere, while my attention remained on her. It degenerated to the point that she was offering me sex acts in exchange for permission to leave the house to spend time with the person for whom she ultimately left me.
I feel myself in a similar situation now. She doesn't leave the house to be with this person - not physically, anyway, but in the last two days, She has spent more time online with him than with anyone else here in the house. She has been in her room, with Her laptop, online, with him, coming out basically just for food, which She has either eaten quickly and returned to Her room as soon as possible, or, most often, taken food back to Her room with Her. Nevermind the 4 children in the house. They get attention only when they interrupt what She is doing online. Otherwise, they are my responsibility. Were it not for me, they would not be fed, clothed, bathed, (in the case of the baby) changed or even watched.
She seems to have no interest in much of anything in the house except Her laptop. I could live with that - She needs Her entertainment, after all...and despite my sincerest encouragements, She has yet to make a friend here. I know what it's like to have contact with others only online, so I would not deny Her Her friends, no matter where She finds them. This is different, however. At least, it seems that way to me, and as I've said many times, I am having a very hard time determining what is real and what exists only in my head. What is real, however, is that in the last 48 hours, She has spent approximately 36 hours online. She spent about 8 hours sleeping and about half an hour playing sex with me. The rest of the time was eating, doing a few things around the house, interacting with children, etc.
All the while, She tells me that She loves me. She comes to me and puts Her arms around me, laughs and smiles...I am very confused by Her actions. Some actions agree with Her words and I am happier than I have been in a very long time....and other actions seem like a blatant rejection of me, despite Her words and I am depressed to the point of contemplating suicide. Such is my love for Her...such is my inability to tell what's really going on. When I talk to Her, She says everything is well and we are getting better...so am I just reading too much into things? Is this all in my head? Is this all innocent and I am twisting things, torturing myself with these thoughts, these visions, and it is all unnecessary?
I wish I knew. I wish I could still my brain. I wish I could distract myself. I wish I could sleep all day, like She used to. I wish I were dead. I just want this all to go away, this pain, this torment. Am I doing it to myself? Is She doing to me intentionally? Is She doing to me unintentionally? I don't care. I just want it to stop. She tells me - and I so very wholeheartedly agree with her - that She wants to go back to the way things were before I went halfway around the world. I want that more than anything else is the world. Because that would mean I have Her back. That would mean I am the most important man in the world to Her. That would mean I could be sure that I have Her love, completely, openly, unreservedly. That would mean I have someone who loves me as much as I love them.
If I can't be with Her...if I can't have Her love...then I have no reason to be here at all.
14 June 2017
Calm
My mind is calm today. I am reassured and I am feeling back to normal. It was all in my head. I will have to remember this in the future, that my mind and the fantasies it can concoct are just that - fantasies created by this evil, twisted, voracious and unstoppable thing that lives inside my head.
It's like I have an evil twin inside me. I am my body, I have my own mind but my twin is only a mind and it shares dwelling space with my mind. Whereas I have a body to work with and so that can occupy my mind from time to time, my twin does not and so it is free to work its mind all day, every day and it has learned how to impose its will over my own when my attention wanes sufficiently. How else to explain can I can know what is going on, I see myself following the same patterns again and again and again and yet I am powerless to stop myself? Clearly, something beyond my control is in command.
In any case, it seems I am back to my normal, carefree, fun loving self. Off I go to do fun things...
12 June 2017
Why?
Why do I obsess over things? Is it insecurity? Probably. Is it a need to control what happens around me? Perhaps, although I thought I got over that back in high school.
I wonder if I am autistic, in some form? I really don't like my world to change. Once it's comfortable, known, familiar, I w ant things to remain exactly the same. It is my refuge from the outside world, where I go to get away from the chaos and noise generated by others. As a general rule, I don't like entertaining at home because I don't like others intruding on my space. My family can do as they please; they are not intruding because they are the familiar. Change in my home environment is anathema to me. I don't want things to change, or if they change, I want them to change slowly so I can adjust. Sudden, big changes throw me off completely.
Maybe this is why I obsess. Maybe this is why I am obsessing over Her. Things have changed and I don't like it. Not big changes, but there are subtle changes. Tiny things, that maybe only I notice. Or, they could be things I am making up in my own head. I really can't tell. What I know is I am convinced that things are different. I want familiar back, I want comfortable back. I think - I hope - we can get back to what was there before but I don't know. Maybe I will just have to adjust to a new reality. I hope not. I liked my old reality.
What has changed? Or, what is it that I think has changed? Her. Or, rather, Her attitude towards me. I think. I honestly can't tell if what I sense is real or just in my head. What I think I see is that She doesn't come to me like She used to. When I am in the room with Her, I no longer feel like I am in the room with Her, just that we are merely, and temporarily, finding ourselves in close proximity. I feel like She is amiably tolerating my presence rather than enjoying or even seeking my company. There are times when She does come to me, when She does seem to be seeking my company. There was an afternoon last week when we were lying in bed together and I got up, for some reason that I don't recall right now, and She grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the bed. The idea that she wanted me, didn't want to me to leave her side, thrilled me. For a moment, I was higher than the clouds.
I love Her. She is the center of my world. I used to feel that I was the center of Her world. She used to make me feel like I was the center of Her world. I don't feel that way anymore and it distresses me to distraction.
I fear Her love for me is broken. I fear She remains here not because She wants to be with me, but because She doesn't want to disrupt things for the children. I fear She tolerates me, but no longer truly loves me.
I fear this is true...and I feel all the worse because if it is true, it's my fault. I love Her so much but if I've lost Her love, I can blame no one but myself. It's a combination that has me experiencing a daily boom and bust cycle. In the course of a single day, She can smile at me and touch me and I am on cloud nine...then she does something - probably completely innocent - that I interpret as avoidance or rejection and I crash into the depths of the darkest abyss, where I brood and stew until She does something that again lifts me up to the highest highs.
This has to be all in my head. She is a wonderful woman. She would never purposely treat me like this. She says She loves me, Her actions back that up. Maybe Her love for me isn't broken; maybe I am breaking myself because I don't think I deserve Her love or haven't been punished enough to earn Her love back. If this is true, then She is blameless and I need to figure out a way to forgive myself and get back to being the man She loves.
I want to talk to Her but I don't want to continually remind Her of negative things in the past. I want to talk to Her because She is my confidant, the one person in the world with whom I want to share my life....but I don't want to broach this topic because I don't want to remind Her of past pains. I think that is part of why I am writing here. If I can purge my demons here, I can get back to the paradise that is Her.
I wonder if I am autistic, in some form? I really don't like my world to change. Once it's comfortable, known, familiar, I w ant things to remain exactly the same. It is my refuge from the outside world, where I go to get away from the chaos and noise generated by others. As a general rule, I don't like entertaining at home because I don't like others intruding on my space. My family can do as they please; they are not intruding because they are the familiar. Change in my home environment is anathema to me. I don't want things to change, or if they change, I want them to change slowly so I can adjust. Sudden, big changes throw me off completely.
Maybe this is why I obsess. Maybe this is why I am obsessing over Her. Things have changed and I don't like it. Not big changes, but there are subtle changes. Tiny things, that maybe only I notice. Or, they could be things I am making up in my own head. I really can't tell. What I know is I am convinced that things are different. I want familiar back, I want comfortable back. I think - I hope - we can get back to what was there before but I don't know. Maybe I will just have to adjust to a new reality. I hope not. I liked my old reality.
What has changed? Or, what is it that I think has changed? Her. Or, rather, Her attitude towards me. I think. I honestly can't tell if what I sense is real or just in my head. What I think I see is that She doesn't come to me like She used to. When I am in the room with Her, I no longer feel like I am in the room with Her, just that we are merely, and temporarily, finding ourselves in close proximity. I feel like She is amiably tolerating my presence rather than enjoying or even seeking my company. There are times when She does come to me, when She does seem to be seeking my company. There was an afternoon last week when we were lying in bed together and I got up, for some reason that I don't recall right now, and She grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the bed. The idea that she wanted me, didn't want to me to leave her side, thrilled me. For a moment, I was higher than the clouds.
I love Her. She is the center of my world. I used to feel that I was the center of Her world. She used to make me feel like I was the center of Her world. I don't feel that way anymore and it distresses me to distraction.
I fear Her love for me is broken. I fear She remains here not because She wants to be with me, but because She doesn't want to disrupt things for the children. I fear She tolerates me, but no longer truly loves me.
I fear this is true...and I feel all the worse because if it is true, it's my fault. I love Her so much but if I've lost Her love, I can blame no one but myself. It's a combination that has me experiencing a daily boom and bust cycle. In the course of a single day, She can smile at me and touch me and I am on cloud nine...then she does something - probably completely innocent - that I interpret as avoidance or rejection and I crash into the depths of the darkest abyss, where I brood and stew until She does something that again lifts me up to the highest highs.
This has to be all in my head. She is a wonderful woman. She would never purposely treat me like this. She says She loves me, Her actions back that up. Maybe Her love for me isn't broken; maybe I am breaking myself because I don't think I deserve Her love or haven't been punished enough to earn Her love back. If this is true, then She is blameless and I need to figure out a way to forgive myself and get back to being the man She loves.
I want to talk to Her but I don't want to continually remind Her of negative things in the past. I want to talk to Her because She is my confidant, the one person in the world with whom I want to share my life....but I don't want to broach this topic because I don't want to remind Her of past pains. I think that is part of why I am writing here. If I can purge my demons here, I can get back to the paradise that is Her.
Thoughts
So...I was told I should start a blog. I wondered why, at first, then as the idea bounced around inside my head for a few days, I decided to check it out and so, here I am. Writing to no one ( I think - if I've set everything correctly.) about nothing. Or everything. This will be for whatever seems important to me at the time that I am writing. I have no idea right now if there will be any real organization or driving theme to this...it's just going to be me, jotting down the thoughts in my head. I may or may not come back a review what I've written in the past; I may or may not allow certain others I know to come here and read what I write here. I don't know yet. For now, this is just a way for me to talk to someone without needing someone with whom I can talk. A way for me to say things that I feel I can't say to someone who isn't me. A way for me to talk through things that are uppermost in my mind without bothering someone else...or worse, without leading to misunderstandings if I don't express myself well.
I've always been better with the written word as opposed to the spoken word. That's because I can plan what I write, I can monitor it as I write and I can review and adjust what I've written, all before it comes to someone else's attention. I hate to be wrong. I hate to be misunderstood and I hate to be imprecise. Speaking off the top of my head to another person is to extend an invitation to any combination of the aforementioned peeves.
Of my peeves, misunderstanding between me and others is the most common I've encountered in my life and the source of my greatest embarrassments. Comments which seemed completely innocent and benign, to me, has, in the past, been received awkwardly by others around me. I'm reminded here of the Village Inn Incident specifically but there have been others, ever since I was a child. Those incidents remind me that I prefer not to speak to others when it can be avoided. I don't want attention from others, I don't want them asking my opinion on this or that unless I know them well. Scratch that. I mean, unless they know me well. Well enough to understand what I am saying when I say it. I am uncomfortable around strangers because I know from past experience that my thought processes can lead me to say unexpected things, on unexpected topics and at unexpected times - from their perspective. It's gotten me negative attention in the past and I don't want negative attention, from anyone.
In all honestly, unless I know you well - and vice versa - I don't want positive attention from you either. If I don't know you, I don't want your attention at all. My life is easier this way.
I know the human species is supposed to be a social species. I've read that we all crave contact with others as a necessary ingredient to a full and normal life. I suppose I do crave contact with others. I just prefer that contact to be one person at a time, as much as possible. And that one person I want is my Her.
She is the one person in the world who gets me best. She doesn't understand me completely and sometimes that's a problem. It's a problem because I talk to Her. She gets my, often, unfiltered thoughts. I can't turn this thinking box off - I have a very hard time doing anything that consumes me so much that I can't think. Playing games, solving puzzles, even writing these words....while I am doing this, I can see my mind splitting in different directions, so that even while I am capturing these words, I am also currently thinking about my Her, obsessing over the trivia questions I got wrong in a game I was playing earlier today, making a list of things to do tomorrow and planning a sequence of quest progression tasks for my World of Warcraft character. This is why this blog, I can tell, will be a collection of thoughts, rather than a cohesively themed diatribe. This is why this blog will not be suitable for consumption by someone who is not me. This will almost be a free writing exercise for me. What pops into my head will be captured here. Whichever way my thoughts wander is the path I will take. Don't expect a logical flow, if you are not me. If you are me, then use this to recreate my thoughts and dive into different flows whenever it seems appropriate.
Big question. Do I want Her to know about this blog? It was Her idea, after all. I have no intention of filtering what I put here - which could be a problem because even though She knows me better than the sum of the rest of the world, there are aspects of me to which even She is not privy. Which is not to say that I am hiding these things from Her - ok, I AM, but not for the purpose of being secretive, in and of itself. I said it before, I don't like misunderstandings...and I think She - even She - wouldn't quite understand these things and so I keep them to myself.
Why am I doing this? It's always been far safer to keep these thoughts in my own head, where there is no chance anyone who isn't me could discover them. If I am honest, there are two reasons. First, She thought it would be a good idea. History has shown me that She knows me very well and Her insights are normally quite astute and therefore worthy of preferential consideration. Second, I know me very well. My ever-spinning hamster wheel forgets thoughts shortly after I think them. New thoughts are constantly coming in and there is only so much room in the attic at any one time, so the old gets discarded to make room for the new. I recognized this dynamic at a young age. My father has very neat and precise handwriting that I admire even to this day. He endeavored to have me learn it from him as a child but I was not as successful as he would have liked. My problem was that I couldn't focus. Because my wheels are always spinning, taking the time necessary to capture my thoughts in writing wasn't always possible. I had to write as fast as I thought, or my thought would be gone part way through writing it and I've had no clue what I was writing in the first place because I'd be five or six thoughts down the path by then. I picked up typing because I can almost type at my speed of thought and still have the output be legible, to myself as well as others.
Which leads me back here. I am doing this - for now anyway - as a way to document things I know I would otherwise simply forget and lose. I don't know what will end up here. I don't care. Let's follow this path and see where it goes.
More later.
I've always been better with the written word as opposed to the spoken word. That's because I can plan what I write, I can monitor it as I write and I can review and adjust what I've written, all before it comes to someone else's attention. I hate to be wrong. I hate to be misunderstood and I hate to be imprecise. Speaking off the top of my head to another person is to extend an invitation to any combination of the aforementioned peeves.
Of my peeves, misunderstanding between me and others is the most common I've encountered in my life and the source of my greatest embarrassments. Comments which seemed completely innocent and benign, to me, has, in the past, been received awkwardly by others around me. I'm reminded here of the Village Inn Incident specifically but there have been others, ever since I was a child. Those incidents remind me that I prefer not to speak to others when it can be avoided. I don't want attention from others, I don't want them asking my opinion on this or that unless I know them well. Scratch that. I mean, unless they know me well. Well enough to understand what I am saying when I say it. I am uncomfortable around strangers because I know from past experience that my thought processes can lead me to say unexpected things, on unexpected topics and at unexpected times - from their perspective. It's gotten me negative attention in the past and I don't want negative attention, from anyone.
In all honestly, unless I know you well - and vice versa - I don't want positive attention from you either. If I don't know you, I don't want your attention at all. My life is easier this way.
I know the human species is supposed to be a social species. I've read that we all crave contact with others as a necessary ingredient to a full and normal life. I suppose I do crave contact with others. I just prefer that contact to be one person at a time, as much as possible. And that one person I want is my Her.
She is the one person in the world who gets me best. She doesn't understand me completely and sometimes that's a problem. It's a problem because I talk to Her. She gets my, often, unfiltered thoughts. I can't turn this thinking box off - I have a very hard time doing anything that consumes me so much that I can't think. Playing games, solving puzzles, even writing these words....while I am doing this, I can see my mind splitting in different directions, so that even while I am capturing these words, I am also currently thinking about my Her, obsessing over the trivia questions I got wrong in a game I was playing earlier today, making a list of things to do tomorrow and planning a sequence of quest progression tasks for my World of Warcraft character. This is why this blog, I can tell, will be a collection of thoughts, rather than a cohesively themed diatribe. This is why this blog will not be suitable for consumption by someone who is not me. This will almost be a free writing exercise for me. What pops into my head will be captured here. Whichever way my thoughts wander is the path I will take. Don't expect a logical flow, if you are not me. If you are me, then use this to recreate my thoughts and dive into different flows whenever it seems appropriate.
Big question. Do I want Her to know about this blog? It was Her idea, after all. I have no intention of filtering what I put here - which could be a problem because even though She knows me better than the sum of the rest of the world, there are aspects of me to which even She is not privy. Which is not to say that I am hiding these things from Her - ok, I AM, but not for the purpose of being secretive, in and of itself. I said it before, I don't like misunderstandings...and I think She - even She - wouldn't quite understand these things and so I keep them to myself.
Why am I doing this? It's always been far safer to keep these thoughts in my own head, where there is no chance anyone who isn't me could discover them. If I am honest, there are two reasons. First, She thought it would be a good idea. History has shown me that She knows me very well and Her insights are normally quite astute and therefore worthy of preferential consideration. Second, I know me very well. My ever-spinning hamster wheel forgets thoughts shortly after I think them. New thoughts are constantly coming in and there is only so much room in the attic at any one time, so the old gets discarded to make room for the new. I recognized this dynamic at a young age. My father has very neat and precise handwriting that I admire even to this day. He endeavored to have me learn it from him as a child but I was not as successful as he would have liked. My problem was that I couldn't focus. Because my wheels are always spinning, taking the time necessary to capture my thoughts in writing wasn't always possible. I had to write as fast as I thought, or my thought would be gone part way through writing it and I've had no clue what I was writing in the first place because I'd be five or six thoughts down the path by then. I picked up typing because I can almost type at my speed of thought and still have the output be legible, to myself as well as others.
Which leads me back here. I am doing this - for now anyway - as a way to document things I know I would otherwise simply forget and lose. I don't know what will end up here. I don't care. Let's follow this path and see where it goes.
More later.
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