A rant and apology of sorts

I guess this has been weighing on my mind for a bit, but I haven’t been able to voice it until now because I haven’t had the motive to.

My name is The Audiophile Blonde.  Once upon a time I had a friend named Blackbird.  We met while I was in high school.  He was a friend of a friend and we hit it off as friends right away.  Then I started dating ex #4.  While we dated, Blackbird and I became good, close friends.  The kind of friends who occasionally flirted with one another on occasion.  We were strange, brother and sister like, then… not at all brother and sister like.  It was like that for two, almost three years while I dated ex #4.  Towards the end of that relationship, Blackbird admitted to me that he liked me.  I knew I liked it him, but it wasn’t something I was okay with admitting.

Why?  It’s not that he isn’t a good guy, he has his moments.  However, I know him (knew him) too well.  I knew his motives with women, I knew how he felt for me.  I knew it was physical and fragile and friendly all at once.  And it was not stable.  I am a big fan of stable, and he wasn’t to me.  I needed a stable man in my life and Blackbird… I am usually the stable one.  I was his friend, the giver of advil and back rubs and hugs and advice.  I still am.

So ex #4 and I broke up.  Blackbird swooped in and we flirted and talked and got… a little intimate over skype because we were both at colleges far far away from each other.  There promises of when break happened… but that didn’t happen.  Ex #5, the one I usually end up ranting about, came along and he was stable.  He was wonderful.  Thus Blackbird had our first large separation   Then ex #5 and I broke up and Blackbird came back.  We fought.  We fought and stopped speaking.  Until July.  Then we picked it up like we had never stopped talking, like friends again.  We flirted and skyped and he knew I didn’t want to do much more than fight.  I flirted.  He tried to kiss me and I told him no.  We flirted more and then we told me what he wanted from me.  Sex.

I admit I lead him on.  I admit it here and that I am sorry for it.

This is going to turn into a bit of letter now…

Blackbird,

I’m not sure if you’ll ever actually read this, but it’s worth a shot to write it out.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I lead you on this grand chase for many years with no prize at the end.  I’m sorry if I hurt you, because you need to know that I would never mean to hurt you.  I wouldn’t.  I care about you, I care about everyone!  You once told me that caring about lost causes would be down fall.  You know it.  I’m sorry to hurt you.  I am sorry.

I am not sorry for telling you no to sex.  I am not sorry that I am not a prize to be won.  You know me.  YOU KNOW ME!  You know that the only way any man gets anywhere near these lips or hips or any other part of me that involves fun, intimate, sexy things is if they have the intention of dating me.  I have told you from day one and you know that about me.  You expect that to change?  I CAN’T CHANGE LIKE THAT.  I can’t.  I have to be in stable relationship before sexy times happen.  Otherwise it leaves my heart to be broken and you know I avoid pain like the plague.

Argh.

You infuriate me, but I care.  I want to be your friend, but if you need time, I understand.  I have patience.  If you don’t want to be friends again, then…

I will have lost a good man.

Either way, remember the good times.  Remember the hair, adventures with our daughter, drunken talks, jump hugs, hugs in general, skype, back rubs, getting drunk at college, remember that laughter and smiles and the good things.  Remember the Wolf and Red.  Remember the make up room and everything.  Remember the happiness.

The Audiophile Blonde

 

A little Fuzzy at the edges

(a poem)

Pain waxes and wains through the hours

Passing, fleeting, harsh, sharp

Unsure of how to take it

She stands tall and puts on

A brave, pale face

 

The edges of her world

Are defined in HD as a wave

Of hurt echoes between

Jaw bone and ear and head

Suddenly, she can’t take it

 

Reaching for the bottle,

She swallows, with a wince

exactly, precisely one little white pill

That the doctor prescribed

To keep the pain away

 

That little white pill, valiant

Fights off demonic power

The pain unsettles and disperses

Sluggishly, but noticable

She begins to feel

 

A little fuzzy at the edges

 

All warm and pain free,

She stumbles, graceless in her stead

In bed, she sleeps,

But her dreams run rampant

A little fuzzy at the edges

 

Vulnerability

I feel…vulnerable lately.

I feel extra sensitive to all these strange, if not normal, things that happen.  I just feel almost out of touch and scared.

I got hurt a while back by someone I trusted.

While I have learned my lesson (don’t trust him), it hasn’t stopped me from not being able to trust others or not being able to trust myself.

I second guess a fair amount of things I do, making sure I can’t be hurt too badly by it.  I also have trouble trusting the more… intimate intentions of the opposite sex.  I fear that I am going to disappoint someone by not being able to be what they think I should be or what they want.

I understand that the above statement is silly.  However, I become happy by making others happy.  It’s how I work.  I am an easy person to make happy.  I’m just scared to disappoint someone because I can’t do all the things I like or should be able to.

I do know that I have these limitations.

I am alright with that.  I know one day, I will stop being so vulnerable.  Or I’ll find a man who doesn’t make me vulnerable.  I know it will happen.  I am positive of it.  I know it will happen.

I know it

For know, vulnerability is what I feel.