This Is Empty Space.

The unease of the past few months finally being lifted from my shoulders, I was ecstatic - we were on break. No more doubts,omissions and guilt. I’m still uncertain if you were intentionally gas lighting me or maybe you just had a problem accepting responsibility. I know I could because you convinced me every time that things were all in my head and  I accepted that. Until I didn’t. Now we’re on break.

You said that you wouldn’t be seeing anyone or anything like that - I didn’t ask and I still don’t care.  You’ve been unkind to me, I can see that now. 

of all the things that were said, the one that bothered me the most was trying to box me into some weird transphobic space. 

I never knew him in his past life/self.  I only knew him as he is now. I still think you need to acknowledge that your friend is in a new phase in his life and that is a conversation that needs to be had.  Especially with respect to your relationship. I know this sounds salty, but I just need to get this out of my head.

I don’t know what I’m going to write today.  Usually I let the music guide my thoughts but i’m not trying to mislead or be lead.  

Today I want to talk about control.  I think that’s the ongoing theme of the past few days - I might as well finish up the franchise.

I’ve always been lackadaisical in my approach to life and precise in my approach to romance.  Myopic in my need to possess or procure.   I’ve never had malicious or ill intent but I needed to have something/someone be mine in order to feel safe - to set terms and rules that allow me to create a safe distance - an emotional ejector seat.

Looking at my past I realize that I’ve doomed many things that way - you can’t be non-commital about commitment, not when there’s other people’s feeling involved.  It’s like I’ve created a moat - a very specific gate that lowers to the castle of my heart.  Always ready to surrender instead of feeling hurt or rejected.

For many years I thought that simple surrender was the best thing to do, not create a fuss or make noise.  Maybe things have gone the way they have because I’ve never truly held onto anything, held it close to me and said “no”

It takes a special kind of courage to stand up and be vulnerable.  That’s my next step, to identify the difference between vulnerable and vulnerability.  I can’t lower my bridge anymore - I can’t live with these walls I’ve built.  

Being resilient doesn’t mean avoiding pain - resilience is about embracing your pain and walking in the rain, avoiding all the eaves along the way.

I know I can’t be safe anymore - not safe as in from harm, but safe from hurt.  Life is a beautiful mess of pain and discomfort.

My anger had always managed to get the best of me, I enjoyed letting out whatever helplessness I could on those weaker than myself. 

Putting all of the days hate and anger into my fist, pressurizing it and delivering it through the person in front of me.

I felt invincible and in control when I was hurting others.  I felt like I didn’t have to go home, that I didn’t belong on the pecking order.  In my house back then it went like this - Dad hit mom and mom didn’t do anything. Courtney saw this, saw this a lot and in turned directed it downwards, sometimes it was Stevie but often it was me.  

I always fought back, hoping that by some miracle that I would become a mutant and then I’d be whisked away to Xavier’s.  I’d try not to have dirty thoughts about Jean and I’d be set.

What really happened was that I’d either run away or retreat into my room or my mind - weaving stories to keep me sane and otherwise alive.

But that’s not the point.  

The pecking order taught me the value of pain - to hit first, hardest and last. To escalate - for every punch through five. Make them bleed and never look back.

If I felt threatened, I would do whatever I needed to another person in order to make myself feel safe - to stop the hurt and exercise some power externally.  

This fight, this constant struggle within myself, outside of myself and inside my own mind was my life.  Eventually, I learned to control my anger and then to master it.  Why? 

Girls.

Nobody wanted to be with the toughest, the strongest, hardest guy out there.  Nobody wanted to take that guy to a party.  Or ride bikes with.

So I changed.  

A little at first,  I started making jokes more, stopped doing less work.  

People liked me.

Then I locked it all away - as much as I could and never looked back.

There were times where i’d slip -  a few years where I was on the edge, but I didn’t dip into that well.  I didn’t need to feel that explosion of energy that happens when your first hits someone’s face.

Then I met Shamsa.  I was 18-19.  We started in a chat room - and then we met. I was still very rough around the edges - prone to emotional outbursts, needing so much and offering so little.  But she was patient, kind and forgiving. Soon I no longer needed the hood, I was ok with putting every thing that happened in the rearview.  

Then my brother died. 

Then all at once it came back, stronger, meaner, destructive.  I could feel it clinging under my skin, waiting to tear upwards and out.   She was the band aid of my soul, her kindness soothed my anger - gave me something in this world to believe in, kept me from self destructing.

And I was a better person, kinder, compassionate, understanding.  We always wanted to take it to the next level, have kids and get married - But I couldn’t stop, I felt I wasn’t ready.  Then I was - but we couldn’t agree on how to get there.  Then she wasn’t there anymore.

I felt like up to this point, I was struggling to keep up - be somebody else for someone else.  Then i had to figure out who i was - who i wanted to be.  Then all at once as soon as I stopped looking  I found myself.  

Today I fucked up.  Major.  4X apparently, I’ve obesely fucked up.  Being so caught up in the “I” protecting the unit, ensuring the status quo. 

That’s the thing about fear, that loss of control, that spike on a rollercoaster.  You don’t know what’s going to happen next - you are at that second both truly alive and incredibly fucked.  

The only thing you can do is let go.  Remove yourself from what you were and accept who you are.  It’s always easier said than doing - but what needs doing is letting go.

You can’t control everything, not everybody is going to love you, and you’re going to die. 

And while the things that have happened to you, have happened - what’s going to happen to you hasn’t happened yet.

We are agents of change - if we can truly and freely give ourselves away from protecting our self and in that crucial moment - protect someone else.

People will hate you,  they will hurt you, but they can’t take anything from you. These things will all happen, and you can’t tell who is going to do them to you.  

Just accept change.  Accept fear.  Be incredibly fucked every second of the day.

Where do I start?