it fucking hurts

Tuesday, Aug. 17, 2004 - 1:41 am

The older I get, the easier it is to admit my failures and hurt.  Perhaps the first most impactful incident was with Mai Quynh.  I don't talk about her much these days, as there isn't any attachment to her whatsoever, but I can remember every action or inaction that caused me to feel unlike myself.  I can remember the moment she was going to tell me about Nam, the guy she had fallen for almost immediately after talks of working things out with our past.  I can remember her tone on the phone, while I immediately told her to stop.  I knew it before she even said anything.  I casually, yet cooly asked, "So who is it?"  She replied almost too eagerly, "It's Nam..."

When I moved to Austin, she asked if she could stay with me for a week or two for vacation.  I, of course, said yes, knowing full well of the consequences.  She would probably be there with Nam in my own apartment doing the things that she so vividly described for me.  "He's never done it in my mouth, but tonight was horrible.  I gagged..."  I gagged too after that conversation.  Here was my fellow cello stand partner, my best friend since childhood, and my first love, telling me about her intimate experiences with another man...  a man she deemed more worthy than I to be with her.  She was a conservative Catholic.  Fully devoted to the teachings of the catechism, she protested against pre-marital sex.  I remember learning this early on about her, and I respected her for her decision.  To hear her say the words, "When we make love," I was only capable of one feeling.  I loathed him.  I loathed her.  But most of all, I loathed myself for feeling that way.

Strangely enough, history finds a way of repeating itself in a twisted way.  Angel has asked me to be her roommate when my lease is up.  If this were any other time in my life, I would be overly ecstatic with this notion.  Instead, the pain and wounds are still too fresh.  They're still slowly recovering from the last round.  I'll have to deal with the fact that she will never ever feel the same way I feel/felt about her, while I watch helplessly as she falls for other people.  Conversely, I know that I'll have bouts of temporary pleasure as I wallow in her company.  How do you hide your feelings for someone who you're supposed to remain merely platonic with?  In the back of my mind, I wonder if this is a convenience thing for her.  Or maybe this is another one of her games.  I can't decide.  I can only give into my masochistic ways, knowing that if I go through with this and make it out, I'll be able to survive anything in life afterwards.  I crave the heartbreak and pain in store for me down this road.  I thirst for the affirmation that I, indeed, am an asshole, and I'm doomed to be this way forever.  In her presence, she makes me want to be a better person than I am now.  That motivation is probably the greatest feeling that I'll ever know.  To be able to rise above all factors and situations to become something great isn't an uncommon thing for me.  I've known it ever since childhood.  But to be able to present myself to someone like that and be accepted...  I have yet to experience that mysterious sensation.

I've been trying to no avail for the past week to become the cold uncaring person that I want to be.  I want to view women as sexual objects for my own gratification.  I want to fuck without emotion.  No matter how cynical life tempts me to be, I can't get past this one barrier.  I've even tried forcing myself to think differently by presenting myself as the stereotypical player.  Needless to say, it's not working.  I feel myself running through life, eager to reach my goal, yet emotionally numb to everything around me.  I'm armed with only the knowledge of how I'm expected to act and to feel...  I know what's acceptable, and unacceptable.  It's these things that keep me tolerable to society.  This is what cocaine feels like.  My heart screams anxiety along with my increasingly fast breathing as I sift through the obstacles, not caring how I get through them.  My only concern is to make this feeling last.  I need to forget the past.  I need to forget why I'm here now.  I just need to push forward.  I need to keep going.  Most of all, I need to get rid of my talent for attracting and letting myself be attracted to the people that will inevitably hurt me because, believe me...  it fucking hurts...

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