jawja (# somewhere in the 700s, i think)

this letter probably doesn't make any sense, whether or not it's taken out of the context of all the others...

i'm reverting. also, i'm tired of autocorrect.

easy, i prefer just, staying up all night. well, not prefer. there's a given up. and i don't understand how not to let my body deteriorate, or my mind.

i have such a short attention span now, too. mostly i watch television. the same shows as last year when i had insomnia, but now dexter and big love. and sometimes king of the hill and the occasional reno 911.

lately dad's been coming into my room in the mornings and waking me up with chatter (either to me or someone else over the phone) about what a piece of s**t kid i am. today it was the toothpaste. you want anything from whole foods? and yes, i do. actually i have a list. "are we going there?"

"someone's already there." "someone" has become marylee's alias.
"i dont want anything."

 

but i must want something. and eventually, it's gingermint toothpaste. because you can't get it here. all they have is cinnamon clove, which is both unseasonable and also harsh on my gums, and wintermint. which, everyone knows, i hate wintermint. or wintergreen. polarmint, arctic mint, winter ice, polar ice, arctic ice. the conversation plays over and over the same lines: me having boundaries that include not taking gifts ("it's not a gift" says he "it's a favor!"), having those boundaries crossed, nu uh! yes huh! ad nauseam...

i demanded a love letter from MattE, even though we broke up. it's weird to see pictures of that other lover, or even to see the americano guy in the store. there's a total dissociation, you must know what i mean. as if the whole scenarios, and especially the one with the regular in it's particular weirdness, were just baked up in my mind.

really, though, i have this experience a lot, and the truth is, they are. but so is everything i ever write about, or don't write about. my whole life, yours, this perpetual dream state. and the reason the "real" dreams seem so real, the sleep dreams. and you just say they're s**t and irrelevent, but you're off there, the reason they make the most sense is because they're closest to, kind of, the center, of the thing. consciousness. the archetypes behind waking life things become less obscured by their "real" masks, are altered into simpler metaphors: the dreams.

anyway, i demanded this love letter, even though we're just dating now so it's not really appropriate, but i feel over-due. he hasn't really, written me one in maybe, two years. i felt like, it'd be nice. to get one. in fact he wrote a lot the first year, and then after that they kinda stopped altogether really, and then i asked him to write me one for my birthday after the second anniversary, and he did, it wasn't finished, though. i remember feeling disappointed about that.

he didn't write one of course. i'm feeling really lost, back here. like my life is going in this horrible circle, and then, i forget how to get back out. i remember i had this sensation of moving forward, and i have no idea what that sensation feels like anymore. though i can actively imagine it as the reverse of this sensation, that's just this...synthesis created in my mind, not a real feeling or memory.

so i started to write one myself. from his perspective. things i'd want him to say. and i only even got four words into it before i gave up. and that's when i started thinking about the other lover and the one i ...blew. sort of accidentally. and it's the same thing, that i remember that i thought his skin felt very soft, and thought that the other had the softest skin i've ever felt on a man, ever.

maybe it's ever since last month when i stopped wanting sex. when i think about, the first moment he was inside me. the first moment anyone was ever inside me, even the time in the field at dusk, with mattE. it just feels, meaningless. but it doesn't have this jaded quality of sex is meaningless. but it also doesn't have this hopeful quality of finding Great Sex someday. i just, don't want sex. even my masturbation habits have decreased from about every other day to less often than once a week, and even then it's quick and boring. but it doesn't want to be anything more than quick and boring.

i know it seems like if all this were true, i wouldn't have to dwell on it, but i've never experienced this before. there was a period for about a year, maybe two, somewhere between eight and eleven, that i didn't think about sex or masturbate. but once i started back up again, i haven't really stopped. and here i am now, feeling celibate.

exercising is really the most sexual thing i do, and i haven't really exercised in like, 9 months. it's the only really sexy thing anymore. it's like i'm f*****g myself, but not in any literal way. i'm just very aware of my whole body. i can feel myself bouncing, i'm sweaty, i'm breathing heavy, sometimes it's kind of painful, it feels great, it's exhausting.

but today i was so mad. when marylee brought over the toothpaste and it was wintermint. i wasn't mad at her. i understood the mistake, and she told dad her phone died so she tried remembering what it was. i mean, i got it. i wasn't even mad AT HER, just that, once again, i was being forced into something, and the exchange for giving up my freedom was gingermint toothpaste, and i didn't even get what i bargained for. then i was late for the class i was going to take, (because she stopped by, i didn't see her), and i was so angry at dad who was going to take the class, though i wanted to be alone. so i just got on the elliptical. and i went at 90% of my maximum heart rate for an hour. well, first i went for two minutes, then i got off because it wasn't reading my heart rate, so i cried for fifteen minutes. and people gave me misguided looks. like "oh, don't give up now." and then i worked out for an hour. then i came home and drank a giant vanilla shake with four oreos. the oreos actually more than doubled the calorie content of the drink...

she came over again and yelled at him for a bunch of s**t i tuned out while i watched reruns of America's Next Top Model (Cycle 2). and apparently he proposed to her. earlier, not tonight. and she said no. i felt stressed about it, so i made myself a giant pancake, and i ate that, too.

 

Reviews

[Carla Hurd]

I too have felt the sting of depression and a stressful home life. This was really good...just your thoughts on paper just so your brain doesn't feel so full...I totally get it and it was totally relatable...nice work