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how do you dissociate from a person you've known for a long long time but haven't been close to in a long time and don't really like? how do you extract yourself from a friendship you don't really participate in anyway? how do you let someone go - when they don't seem to realize anything's wrong? i've been pondering this for a while, months... maybe even years. it just makes me feel angry and trapped and frustrated because She has no clue and i really am tired of pretending and the avoidance works, but not without accusation and guilt trips. any ideas? hmm. i don't really know how to sum up this weekend except to say how proud i am of myself. a year ago i had sex with a man simply because it was easier to do that than to get him to leave me alone. i let him fuck me and then i curled up and laid awake until morning, when he left. it was just another dirty secret in a string of dirty secrets that piece together my life. i was so ashamed, so embarrassed... felt so weak and puny and dirty that i told no one. until a conversation with my darling sistah-friend on the way back from rhode island after a horrifying experience for her. we shared our dirty secrets and we began to heal each other. i have come a long long way from that conversation. i have, in the time between then and now, ended an intimate relationship in which i was constantly putting myself on the line and constantly being told i was not good enough, strong enough, woman enough to live my dreams. i ended this relationship without the ever-so-easy Other to fall back on. i walked away from it because it wasn't what i wanted or needed and it was making me crazy. after two years of prostrating myself in order to hopefully, eventually, be the One, i let it go. and i made a life for myself and for my son based on what WE needed and what WE wanted. i did not involve myself in affairs that were dangerous (either mentally or physically) or dead end. i surrounded myself with friends and family and i found that i wanted More. i promised myself that the next person to share my bed would be worthy of me and s/he'd be worthy of my son. several times this weekend i was on the verge. not because i wanted intimacy with this man, but because i almost felt obligated to provide him with it. it was the same musty feeling of being overwhelmed that i experienced that humiliating night in revere when i was pussy and he poked and prodded me until he got to fuck me. that's how i felt this weekend. and there were times, when H was poking and prodding and pulling and tugging and begging and demanding sexual favors from me.. there were times when it actually went through my head. it would be so Easy to just do it. just close my eyes and let him. but i didn't. i didn't choose the easy way. i respected myself and my body and my home and my sanity and i fought off the advances and i struck out against the guilt. i did not allow him to bend me. i stood up for myself and my son and my life by kicking him the fuck out of my home. and it felt damn good. no dirty secret. no shame. no humility. i guess it was dangerous. he could very easily have struck out at me. he could very well have hit me... or snuck into my room and raped me. but he didn't. and i didn't give in. and if he had touched me or my son, i'd have killed him. and i feel strong. powerful. for once, i feel invincible.
you got something to say?
this is today's entry
playing:
reading: White Teeth
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