Thursday, June 20, 2002

I haven't been here for a long time.

But I needed to come back. I thought I'd left all this shit behind me when other things started happening in my life that weren't as dark and as sour as some of the things that were going on back at the last entry. But maybe I needed her, maybe I needed to drag that self back out into the light and force her skin to blister in the sun, because it will make her stronger.

Maybe I'm just talking shit.

God forbid that any of my friends should find this place.

Where were we last time?
I'll bring you up to date:

I broke up with Dave.
I started going out with somebody who I loved more deeply than I've ever loved anybody, or (as is always the case) I thought so at the time. His name was Martin. We went out for five months and I lived for him, I was his, he was mine, we were two lovers trying to shut out the world from where it was flapping it's dark wings and screaming and shrieking like the wind around our heads, because while the world loved us when we were apart it could not stand us together.
Martin and I, the unit, the one entity, clinging together desperately, never wanting to be apart, not giving in to one another but propelling us both faster and faster into places I don't think I'll ever be again, that intense love that burns so brightly that it's power is seen as nothing but a horror and a thing to be afraid of for anyone living outside the tightly closed circle right in the heart of it - and there were Martin and I, hiding ourselves from the rest of humanity as they spat in our faces.
I suppose the world won in the end. One day we argued, and in the fear and the passion I went away and did not speak to him for a week. In that week I truly went through hell. I woke in the morning and the knowledge would hammer me and settle like a knife in my guts for the rest of the day. I lay tearless at night, waiting for the storm to break, missing him like nothing else, biting my lip til the blood came.
And finally I did break, I cried and howled like a baby, and I accepted that we were apart. I started to deal with the pain. I dealt with it and got rid of it and started to stand straight again, and then after all that time came a knock at the door and it was Martin and he was a wreck, and we were together again.
But it was dead. There was nothing there. The love had been burned right out of me. And so it ended, this time for good.

And, now, a long time later, I've been with my current boyfriend for about three months, and I like him. He's a cool guy, always makes me feel good about myself, and I've never let him see my dark side.

It's not a case of hiding it. I can't just bring it out to show him. When it's there, it's there. But he's always happy and bright, and so am I, because that twisted bit inside is never uppermost when he's around.
But, all the same, we've never plumbed the depths together, we've never hit those incredible heights together, it's a steady relationship that's different to any I've had before, and I don't know how to deal with it. He wonders why sometmes I'm quiet, he wonders why sometimes I seem on the verge of exploding with passion, he wonders at my extremes, because he can't go there with me.

I've started to form a theory that love, as far as it relates to me, has a limited shelf life. I can't just measure it out in a steady stream, it either comes in gushes or it flows in a trickle, or one then the other.
And I never know when it is going to run out.