LustingforNightmares

tumbleweed
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2017-12-16 17:21:06 (UTC)

twitchy in the soul

"In Such Crooked Time" by Centro-matic

When you move
Your eyes, they twitch like mine
In such crooked time
So it goes my friend
And when you call
Well, your voice, it shakes in time
Your hands, they sweat like mine
It's all you could have done

And when the sun
Finally falls down from your skies
Don't you know that I
am gonna find you just in time
On the shores of your decline
On the campsite of your fears
The four ends of this earth
You know I'll meet you there
When the sweat and shakes depart
Ain't it justified
That through the course of days and nights
The error did us right

December 16, 2017 Saturday 4:21 PM

Last night, I had this terrible dream. It was, like, about being violated by my dad I think. It was strange. Except for I was the one doing the violating, you know? I was violating my own dad. I had a penis in this dream. He looked at me with such shame and disappointment. It was absolutely awful.

I woke into another dream after that, and in it I was at a family reunion. My uncle, mother, father, and I were all eating dinner. And then my dad turned to me and he said, "You know. I hate you."
And my mom got kind of pissed off, my uncle said something like, "I can't believe you would say that!" but my dad—and this actually reminds me of how he is in real life—just shrugged off everyone else's shock and proceeded to explain with this very precise logic that there was no reason for him to love me. And that I was a constant disappointment, so how could he anyway? And yeah, he is always kind of like this. My mom gets mad about something he says and he will go on to justify it, and sometimes (often) I disagree with his logic and I think his opinion is actually forged in an emotional place but he doesn't admit that.

An example being Thanksgiving, when he was stressed about having to apply for a research grant, so he did what he usually does which is to complain to the family about how messy the house is. Right after Thanksgiving, he pestered Caroline and I to clean up the kitchen.... like.... right after.... is it so crazy to want to rest after a huge meal?!??!?! But he wasn't having it, and he wasn't listening to any reasoning beside his own, which as I said, was misplaced.

But he doesn't hate me. My dad loves me a lot and I know this. But in the dream, I had this caving feeling, like "of course he hates me," and I kept repeating the following to myself with my head down: 15.999. And this is the molecular weight of a single oxygen atom and maybe that was my dream self's way of reminding me to breathe. That'd be beautiful, if it were true, but I think it's more about how I'd been living and breathing the periodic table before my chemistry exam than it had been about my atmosphere (which is ~21% oxygen... I think it might actually be 20.9% but I am not totally sure). God, I love numbers...

So, yeah. I had these pretty awful dreams. And when I woke up, it was to a text from Adrian, saying: "Wait, are you not responding because your pissed at me about something?" And this is because I didn't reply to a text he sent last night, which was, "Yo, you got finals week?" Like, of course I do, but whatever. I didn't answer because I didn't really want to talk to him.

Anyway, my reply to his text (the one about whether I was pissed or not) was: "No?? I forgot you texted me." Which is a lie. But I allow myself to lie to him.

He said, "O cool," and then followed up with, "I didn't think so"

But if he didn't think so, then why did he ask? And that's part of my whole problem with him. He lies about the smallest things. Like, why can't he just admit he is concerned that I am angry? Why does he have to try and backtrack? I don't trust him. He makes me sad to think about, you know? How can someone be that dishonest? He's not literally a liar, but he just... ugh. It's like he has a persona, 24/7.

So that made my day less pleasant. I talked a bit with Moby on snapchat. We've hung out pretty much every day since we met now, which I find fucking weird (he probably finds it low key weird too, but not in a bad way). It's not bad, but I just. Like him a lot.

Was last entry when I was angsting about him? I think it was. Well, right after that entry, he brought me a pumpkin muffin, which made me really happy. And then he asked me to dinner the next day, and that surprised me because before that it was me inviting him places. So we went to dinner and then we went back to his dorm to watch a movie. We were just being pure, nice, platonic buddies. He was on his bed and I was on his desk chair with my feet under his leg (listen... it's been fuckin' cold lately and his leg was warm and my feet were little limb-shaped icicles). And we watched some Zodiac (well, we talked through a lot of it, mostly about how Beautiful jake gyllenhaal is). And then I found out!!!! That he loves Donnie Darko as much as I do!!! So we switched to that.

And I changed into pajamas and he invited me onto his bed and then he put his arm around me eventually and we started cuddling in earnest and it was nice. Except that it made me very wet, which was not surprising because I remember that happening with Isaac too. I am a sexually repressed human and as soon as Boy People touch me I swear to god I just drip and it's gross. I am so gross.

I don't know, the cuddling was really nice though, and then the next day I wanted to shoot myself because my emotions were all out of whack. I saw Star Wars with Karina, though, and holy shit that movie was so good... I'm about to have a Star Wars marathon tonight because I am just so. Excited. By that entire movie. It was actually really fucking good. Way better than The Force Awakens.

Anyway. Yes. At some point, I had Moby come over to help me warm up. I don't know what was wrong with me exactly. I think I was outside too long in the snow without enough clothes so I couldn't get warm even after being inside for like an hour, so I used his body as my personal heater. Part of me honestly hated the whole thing. I hated the sickly fucking sweet murmuring between us, the flirty arguing, the way he fuckin' clutched me. Because I am never fully inside my body, is the problem. I am floating outside it, and so I look at this disgusting dishonest act of cuddling and I am ashamed.

Like, it's not honest. It's a sidelong way of communicating affections. And this should be fine. I mean, what's wrong with that? Why do we have to be explicit all the time? How can we be expected to express our feelings if we are still not sure what they are? But somehow, my inner self doesn't get that. She is dogmatic: no dishonesty. And this cuddling counted as dishonesty. Everything about pre-relationships count as dishonesty. I kind of just want him to kiss me, to get it out of the way. Maybe he's not sure if I like him back. I mean, I could believe that, even if it's really obvious that I do, lol.

Ugh, what fucking gross messes are romances. They are confusing and illogical and just overall painful. And they are supposed to be worth the agony. And sometimes I think that is true. But other times, I am absolutely terrified of every bad corner of a relationship. Especially the mildly bad. I mean, it is the unspoken that is really scary, because it goes back to dishonesty and confusion and a lack of control. At least when you're fighting, you're communicating. But when there is something just slightly off, slightly askew, it's hard to know where you stand anymore.

I am just confused and kind of ashamed of myself and I really want to talk to Lancelot, even if I feel like he will ultimately tell me things I already know (not that he is not useful—he forces me to face some of my issues, you know? I hate it but it's probably good for me).

Also, last night when we were cuddling, I once again got really wet and fucking!!! Hate that!!! I should not hate it. It's perfectly normal. But I just feel like a gross person. I think he maybe had a hard-on? Only because he asked me not to put my foot too high up because it was uncomfortable and the way he said it made me feel like he was implying something soooo.... I laughed nervously and tried not to press back into him, to check.

After he left, I had all these mixed feelings. Because I kind of wanted him there still, but I was also really glad he was gone. I hate how when he leaves he looks back at me and I look back at him and there's a tension there. I hate that. And I hate that when we tickle each other too, because it is so blatantly an excuse to touch each other, and it's childish somehow. And I hate!!! That I like!!! How strong he is!!! I am so mad!!! I am just so mad!!!! All of this is so cliche and stupid and I am letting it happen because I don't know what else to do!!! Part of me know I really, REALLY need this. I need to learn how to get through my issues. And he is so respectful and nice and funny and attractive that I think it is safe to work through my issues with him.

But it's still fuckin' scary. Plus, I think it says something about me, that I put the word "respectful" first. But I am not sure what it says. I just know it is meaningful.

God. Anyway. This is probably why I had all these messed up dreams last night. I am not sure why my dad was the vesicle for these messages. My idea is that I have some sort of repressed anger towards him for how uninvolved he was as a parent until recently. Like, in therapy, I know I talked about both my parents being unreliable, but when I think it about it... ultimately it was my dad. I can forgive my mom, because she works a lot and is generally ill much of the time, but my dad is healthy and fine. He just throws all his life into work and the Unitarian community. Which, great, but he could've afforded to pay some attention to Caroline and I. He could've helped out with homework, could've done more than walked us to school when we were in elementary school, generally could've been more supportive... Could've asked what I liked about school, could've praised me for my fucking great grades in english in middle school (when I first realized I really wanted to be a writer). He could've paid the fuck attention to me, basically. The only times he really involved himself was when it had to do with science.

And I think that's part of why I was convinced, for a short time, that I wanted to do neuroscience. Because, I mean. My dad and I have always gotten along okay (except for middle school, when we fought all the time because I blamed him for A Lot Of Things, mostly having to do with my mom's unhappiness......).................But with neuroscience, it was like a whole new door had opened! I actually for once felt like I was intelligent when talking to my dad. My dad is very smart, by the way, and also very painfully logical (like to the point where Reason takes precedence over Emotional Impact... does that make sense... he doesn't care so much about how people feel ok). And yeah. I don't know. He started saying he was proud of me. And maybe that also had to do with me getting into an Ivy, or maybe he realized I was feeling neglected, but also maybe it was he wanted me to do science. And the same thing kind of happened with my grandpa... where he started paying attention to me when I started doing stuff related to science... Ugh.

I don't know. Basically I am just angry at my dad for not being present enough. You know, whenever I remember my childhood, I remember my mom. But with my dad? I remember him sitting at a desk, looking at his computer. I remember him in the driver's seat of the car. I rarely remember him actually doing stuff with us, unless it was stuff he wanted to do that we'd been dragged along for. That's probably very normal and I am unreasonably upset by this. Ugh.

Okay. Sorry. I am okay. I am just... Having a week. A very rocky, emotional week, because of these new experiences with Moby. A weak week.

Well. Time to go study for my math final. It's my last one and then I'm freeeee! Except for, what is freedom? Are we ever really... free? Are we ever really.... anything? Do we even exist? Okay, see. Now I sound like Moby. This is the shit he says when he's losing a fake argument. Aight. Okay. For real. Entry.. over.

PS:
My dad is a really, really good guy and I love him a lot. I am sorry for how negatively this entry portrayed him. He is one of my favorite human beings.


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