Back to the Beginning

So here I am again, or maybe more precisely, here I am back where I always end up. It’s that place that you never quite want to be, but end up there anyway. Every time you get there you recognize it. It has the same signs, the same surroundings, but surprisingly a much different road leading there. It’s always a different path, always different choices and different circumstances, but you always end up in the same place. In the same circle, with the same problems, and the same escapes. Being such a creative person you’d think that I’d be able to write myself out of these kind of holes. You’d think that I’d be able to make different choices, leading to different circumstances, and different roads, and eventually different destinations. But my roads lead in one direction. My roads lead to what I’ve only just realized is what I define as home. Home was always an odd concept to me, anyway. It was never a place, or rather any physical place. It was always a state of mind. It was a group of places, or people, or feelings that coalesced to a single idea that I just knew somehow was home. It was the place I yearned for when I wasn’t there, but hated when I was trapped inside. I missed it, but at the same time I never wanted to miss it, or maybe I realized that in effect I shouldn’t miss it. But I do, even sitting here knee deep in it’s aftermath. I miss it. And in reality all it is, is this place where things cannot possibly ever get worse, and the only thing that can happen is that things start to look up. It’s the tail-end of depression, the last step to recovery, the first step to mental freedom. And every time I’m there I don’t want to take it. I don’t want to walk away from this place, because I know for a fact that no matter what I do, or where I go, or who I meet, or who I fall in love with, or what friends come screaming and running full force back into my life, that I’m going to end up back here. But it’s home, and I’ll always have a special place for it in my heart, and in my soul, but mainly in my mind. I want it back already and I’m still in it. Where I was going with this I have no idea, because all I turned this computer on for was to play pinball, but now sitting here I have about a million things to say. Life has been low lately. I’ve been crying a lot, mainly when I’m alone, but a lot of times when I’m not too. Things between me and David have been strained. He’s pushing away, and I’m clinging on. Not to say I’m clingy, I just hate the fact that no matter what I seem to do I can’t keep that love, or affection between us. I never thought in a million years that he’d get tired of kissing me, and it’s hard for me even to type that because I don’t want it to be true, but then again it’s the truth, and there’s no secrets here. It’s hard to keep up three fourths of the relationship I guess, and I think I’m driving him crazy with it, but I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to be one of those couples that can’t stand to be around each other, or that get into this routine that they can’t break out of. But here we are, living the routine. He goes to work, I go to school, and about every other day I come over to his house to help him clean, sit back, in another room while he bonds with the boys until he’s ready to go to bed. We don’t go out anymore. We don’t have time alone anymore. It feels like I’m losing him slowly. Not that I need his attention and time every second of every day, I just need my time too. And sure we’re together a lot, hell we’re together more than a lot, but it’s never just us, and even if it is just us sitting in his bedroom, it’s not just us because kenny and adam are a couple rooms over and he’ll leave in a second if they call. I don’t know, I guess I feel like I’ve been kinda shifted to the backburner or something. I’m not the number one priority for him anymore, and it’s hard for me process because he’ll always be number one for me. I will blow off my friends, my family, even my schoolwork for him if he calls, but I feel bad and awkward if I ask him to come in 2 minutes early from being with the guys. Like I’m depriving him of his time alone. I shouldn’t have to feel like that. I don’t want to feel like that, but every time I bring it up he needs his alone time, or he can’t be with me 24-7. That’s never what I’m asking for, I just wish he knew that. I wish he knew how much I love him, and how much it hurts me when he pushes me away, or tells me that he doesn’t wanna touch me, or kiss me, or fuck me. It rips me apart when I have to hear that. Am I becoming his routine? Is he sick of the monotony? Does he want to move on but isn’t admitting it? It’s stupid and ridiculous to wonder any of this, to even type it out, but it’s what I think about all the time. He says I’m beautiful and hot and everything he’s ever wanted, but he changes so much, am I still all that? After finding everything out that he has about me does he still think that I’m that perfect girl he was always searching for? Does he think less of me now that he knows without barriers or lies or false personas who I really am? Sometimes I wonder if I haven’t disappointed him. I’m not his perfect little church girl that follows all the rules and does right in the world. Sometimes I have to question if god really even exists. Maybe I only say that because I wanna keep my mind open, I guess what I really wonder is if he really doesn’t exist. I’m a freethinker. I think out of the box. I don’t just go on what I see or hear or taste or smell. I know there is an entire world out there that I will never know about or see, and I know for a fact it’s there. But still I wonder if god exists. With a god out there would the world truly be like it is today? The world has gone to hell, and I honestly don’t think that any god as all-knowing and all-seeing as the one that so many people believe in can actually exist. No god would let some things that happen in this world happen. But then again there’s the other side of the spectrum. Maybe all these things are happening today because not enough people believe in god. Not enough people devote themselves to him, so he doesn’t have as much power as he used to. Either way, he’s not this great all highly being that everyone thinks he is. He’s just like us. He fucks up, he fails. So why worship? This doesn’t really ever bother me, except for when David makes me feel so inadequate for not believing, like I’m missing out or something. I’m not missing out, I’m just sick of being misinformed I guess. Misguided is probably a better word. In the end I guess I have a 50/50 chance. Heaven exists or it doesn’t. I get in or I don’t. There’s no reason to waste my life wondering, or chasing a cause that might not be there. I just wish that david could respect that side of me. The non-religious one. But none of it matters. None of this is leading anywhere or to anything good I guess. I’m just upsetting myself more because I’m realizing what is so wrong in my life and that I have no concrete way of fixing it or bettering anything. Maybe I just need to roll with it. I need to lighten up, and take things as they come. The days are warming up, the skies are getting bluer and brighter and I’m still in my shades of grey, it’s time to change with the seasons. Springtime is my season, my time, my freedom. Open my wings, fly away and take those that believe with me. It’s gonna be a wild ride, or at least an eventful one.