Either way

July 22nd, 2009 Silly little things rattling around in my head, I would have settled for a life of poverty because I was willing to make that sacrifice for love, and that wasn't what we had. I loved you and you loved you. But now I am free to find my true love, and live in whatever way we see fit. I can have a full rich life of love and family with a man who adores me without having to sacrifice my dignity.

This was written on a scratch piece of paper 7/21/2009

It seems as though today, and many other days, clients, or people acting as such have the need to beat up on me. I am getting a vibe here that to some not so nice people, I am not welcome. Regardless ofhow I handle something or what I say, they will just keep trying to cut me down. Is race a factor? Age? Being middle class perhaps it is the fact that i am all of that and have confidence anyway...it seems to be offensive to some. As if they want me to cow tow, or run away crying. I am not much of a runner, and I am no mouse. The thought of scurrying away doe s not appeal...not my style. but, I am becoming tired, worn, with a heavy weight on my chest. Lastnight knocked me down another notch. It was as if he came back just to mess up my mind. justlike when he left. It has all been just sheer agony. The rawness of the feeling is burning up m face now as I hold in the cyclone of rage inside. Andi continue to write as everyone goes on around me as usual.

Getting it all out

This was written July 21, 2009 3:41 pm I am writing as a way to keep busy and get all my feelings out. As of now I am not sure what they are. My instinct tells me to jsut go with my heart, that would be to write flowery poetry and cry and give the poetry to him so that he may cry too and then he would hold me and tell me how beautiful I am and how those words were so lovely and hit a soft place in his heart. how my words opened his eyes to the true meaning of love. How he now sees that he should never let me forget that I am the one he wants for life. Then my secondary feeling is to yell and scream, hit and throw things. To spew hateful, vengeful things in his face. To hurt, degrade or otherwise immasculate him. Drawing blood to satiate my broken, black & thorny hearts lust to my own destruction. Then I get too smart and want to talk about it...the relationship. As if dissecting it would uncover the defect, infection, disease. When all I am doing is adding bacteria to an open gash that was still healing. All I expected was what he said. Be a man, introduce me to the people in your life, keep your word, and stop hurting me. I opened myself up to you, giving and giving until I had nothing left for myself.