It’s a hell of a feeling though

Nadine was telling me why walking away was tricky. “It’ll be okay, though”, she explained. “You two got entangled because it is easy. You’re so alike and he validates your quirks and you his. Remember when we watched that film? “Spooky action at a distance?” Whatever. You’ll stay emotionally connected no matter how much time you spend apart or how erratic that time apart is. Notice how much calmer you are now? The lessons you’ve learned since he’s been in your life. And you started talking to him when he started coming back around again? You’re picking up the energy he was transmitting that he was ready. When he got depressed, so did you. How many times did he just pop into your head when you were doing something else? Was it random or was he thinking about you? Maybe that timeline vision you saw was not what you think, maybe it was a peek into your future? You touched your phone as he sent you a message twice today – how long have you two been disconnected for? And you say that was normal when you talked all the time? And he says things you think how often?

And you thought you were just going to walk away from him? Really? This is a rare connection, Melinda.”

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Happy birthday, Isabelle Alice.

Today is my grandmother’s birthday. It is also Elliott’s birthday. And Todd’s.

There is something about June 22nd Cancers.

But this post is about my grandmother. Not Isobel’s beau or my ex.

I wish I remembered more about her. And at this point, I question what I do remember. I am positive I have crafted an alternate timeline where she and I were the bestest buds because I had no-one else. I know it does not matter, there is no-one around to correct my version of events and if my side is the only side of the story it becomes the truth.

Strange how that works, huh?

I know she wore some fancy French perfume (at least what I thought was fancy when I was eight – l’air du temp, I think it was called?). She was always chilly and she shoved a disposable tissue in the strap of her bra or in the sleeve of her cardigan. I never saw her wear black and she showered with some sort of undergarment on. She got her hair permed like a poodle and she loved to play bingo. She spoke French and refused to teach it to any of her kids so she could talk to her friends in privacy. She was sassy and I think she flirted with the mailman (but he might have just been nice to everyone).

She was not a very warm woman but she tried. She told me one night that I would understand more when I was older – about the whispers and the half-stories. She told me I was lucky I was clever because marrying me off was going to be tricky because of how I looked, “no respectable man was going to marry a mulatto.”

But that was how it was, you know. I was taught how to clean and cook and darn. I had my hands in a sink full of dishes and Dawn while standing on a chair before I could recite the Pledge of Allegiance.

I would like to think that she loved me. I cannot be sure. If she could love, she loved me. That is the best she could do. I am grateful for her. Without her, I would have lived a life with very little colour. I know she is a lot of the reason that my mum grew up the be the way she is but they were like oil and water.

Happy birthday, mémé.

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I’m a fucking arsonist

I am lonely,
he breathes into my neck
and my skin sucks it up like it is good for me.
I know, but
before I could finish,
I let him melt into me.
I mold his body into a shape to fit with mine
because at this moment, it feels right,
like this is where we are supposed to be.
But he knows too much of me and
I do not know his secrets
the way I know his flawed, naked body.
He comes halfway and leaves just the same.
He becomes shapeless in my mind
the way all past lovers do after they have had enough of me.
Something about this feels like closure.

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how can you be sure?

The old man dies within me everyday and with his death I feel some sense of sadness. My stories that I have needed to be “Melinda” do not have as much power. So when I was asked to do the podcast I was reluctant because I do not have the desire to talk about the past like once did. I am hoping as we move forward with the project the topics will be less about what has been and more with what will be. I have this problem when I write now as well. When I start with chapters, I can only go so far backwards before it feels uncomfortable or like it is not me anymore.

I am not unhappy about this. The new man has grown so tall and strong and I worked hard for it. To say that I should dig up my seeds and tell them to stop growing so I can focus on my old patterns a bit longer seems mental. I do not want to be those old tales of mistrust and misdeeds and misfortunes any longer. They do not serve me any better than a tray of haggis and snails in garlic sauce would. Maybe it sounds delicious to someone else but for me it sounds nauseating & I would rather pass.

My newest tattoos are starting their shedding process and it makes me smile because it is how I feel completely. So much of my persona has changed over these past four months… I am proud of myself. It is a delicate modification, like all changes like this are. I did not like my behaviour, I did not like how I was feeling so I had to collect my wits… analyse them and reach out for help. When the help gave me very little of what I needed (“time heals”, blah blah blah), I did more researched how my brain learned. I energised myself. I have not been looking for a way to attracted anyone else.

I have been looking for ways to make Melinda the best version of herself.

Fun fact: no one is going to love you more than you will.

I miss the good morning texts, I will not lie. I miss the inane conversations about cheese, space, humanity & history. I miss him picking on me because I do not use spellcheck and my ADHD brain does not do text messaging very well (and he is always texting/chatting with someone and is very good at it) so I mess up phrasing/grammar BADLY and turn it into something silly. He did it too but I have manners & left it alone. HE NEVER DID. He pointed out every mistake I made and hilarity often ensued. People never tease me. I loved that he did.

You know what is best? Having my integrity. And all of my dignity intact. Life is lived in a manner where you are lucky to spend the time with the people when you have it. You smile when you think of the time you had with them and you can feel sad when you feel the emptiness in the spots next to you. It is your decision how to fill those empty spots. You can find someone else to take their place or you can grow YOURSELF.

then you never feel lonely. Never again.

Miss them but smile because you had the experience.

You have no idea what happens next.

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nb: this is probably not about you

twice today I had someone get sore about something they read here. this is my fault, so let me apologise & make something VERY CRYSTAL — unless your name is stated, I am not talking about you. I might use something you said to start a conversation (and sometimes it is an important one to start, so thank you for bringing it up!) but I do the best I can to conceal your involvement. If I wanted your identity to be public, ie, if I am feeling the need to have a nattering with you as my subject YOUR NAME WILL BE VISIBLE. K?

And now with that said, can everyone stop looking for themselves in my words, please? If you would like for me to write something about you, just ask? I love to write about the people I care about!

but I am not 12, I do not attempt a tête-à-tête at the expense of others. I thought you guys knew me better than that.

I get it, though. We are all sensitive and I am wordy and none of us spends enough time drinking & spilling tea while eating cake in my living room like we used to.

I miss you guys like woah.

p.s. dear proxy user,
I think it is lame that you feel the need to read my words with a mask on. I know who you are, it is silly that you are being such a butt.
sincerely,
Umbrella Academy Mask

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eye to eye we need no words at all

I was talking to Isobel tonight about how I got myself into this position and she found herself nodding a lot during my explanations. Having the mastery of your circumstances is all well & good but where to go with that information, well — that is something else.

I am glad she is more like me in the regards that she is feelings = attraction. I see the benefits of casual affairs, of course, but in the long run, I think it keeps your head on straighter. I have moments were I wish I could be a bit freer in my approach but it is the demisexual life for me. I dislike that I had so many relationships that I felt nothing for the person I was with but that it is in the past and there is not a damn thing I can do about it besides forgive myself for not realise my worth.

I realise it now.

When I explained to her how I pushed E away she just shook her head. I said, “yeah, I know.” I told her that I liked him a lot but I done fucked that up. She told me to fix it then.

I just blinked at her a few times.

I sighed and nodded and acknowledged that I am working on me and my emotionally avoidant self. What I have to offer right now is a handful of buttons (mother of pearl, vintage), one knitted sock… probably a size 44 (I am working on the other one while listening to my lectures for school), regularly baked cookies (always gluten-free because why make cookies I cannot eat?) & maybe I can learn to spoon better because the last time was… messy.

I am not sure how great of a girlfriend I would make. I need a lot of time alone. I do not like talking on the phone. Video chats are okay from time to time but I feel stupid unless we can drink. And since I hardly drink… I meditate a lot so I … what I am trying to say is that I have been single for years. I do not hate it. I get along with myself really well and for the first time in my life, I am stable and fucking happy.

Yeah, I have mixed feelings about dating which is why I fucked this up. It does not matter how I feel about him, I started to feel like I was leading him on. I asked him what he was looking for and he said “starting a long-term relationship”. I panicked.

Nothing went right after that.

It was not him, it was me. I fucked it up. I found fault in every single thing he did… even if it suited me just fine. I was scared. He was not doing it the way my brain told me it should be done – as the others did it. He was not following the patterns of destruction, I had nothing to compare his behaviour to… I had to run. But I could not run, he was kind and he liked me and even though every fibre of my body wanted to bolt, I fell for him.

there was this z i p
z iiiiiiii p when we sat close

He wanted to take this slowly so I sped things up
I crashed it into a wall

but even when I asked him after so much silence if he still wanted to be in my life,
he still will not say no

so I wished him a happy birthday and blew him a kiss
we will try again another day

Today I have homework to do and tattoos to get and coffee to drink and friends to laugh with and naps to have dreams in and cats to pet and so many other things to do

But I will tuck this peanut butter addled kiss in the back pocket of my memory

 

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That’s what they say when we’re together


Spotify has published my most listened to songs a few months earlier this year. I got a good giggle out of 2020s instalment.

I do not know what is floating around in the air these days, opiates perhaps? but my mood has been so high. I have been socialising a lot with no discomfort, only joy. It must be summertime, yeah? I was talking to someone yesterday and I felt a well of tears come up behind my sunglasses and I had to stop talking. These tears were born from glee not sadness. This happens when I am talking about certain subjects lately and I do not get any warning – I feel like Data when Lore gave him that new feelings programming. How can you manage like this, fellow humans? It is so overwhelming. When I came home I just wanted to sleep but when I put my head to the pillow I just played the conversation over and over again in my head. I turned on the 7Hz and it helped some and I fell asleep and thought of my different outcome and I felt somehow happier than I did before.

girl, what is going on?

living in the end is goddamn bliss

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You will rebel to anything

(nine people asked me this today)

In my younger years, all you had to do was say, “Melinda! Come there is a protest afoot!” and I would be there with a cardboard sign and bells on. I would learn about what we were bitching about on the way, sometimes. We got pepper-sprayed more than once.

For me to go to a protest these days, I am often an organiser. I like to know the facts behind the cause. I like to be passionate & involved.

I have been part of the blm movement since day one. I just do not feel connected to these protests. I feel like people are using them as platforms to show how woke they are. It has little to do with the people that have been killed. Ask any person at one of the protests who died and most have no idea. They just know some black guy was killed by a cop. Some. Black. Guy.

yeah, sorry if I cannot rally with these people.

There is hope, I agree. Just not on the streets and there is no hashtag behind a filter. Fuck, I hate this.

We need to do better. Love is the only way but how do you spread love when narcissism is more important than integrity and heart?

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add title

You wake up one day and realise you are getting attention from a hundred places that you are thankful for but you really do not want. The one place you want it from cannot give it to you because you are not able to give it either. You understand, finally, that it is YOU. You pushed the feelings away. You were the one that was scared. You did not want them too close. You did not trust enough.

and you did not notice until they were gone.

You did it to yourself and now all you can do is fix your face and learn how not to be a coward the next time. Watch what you say and how you say it, girl. It is easy to call someone out on their garbage but when it is you that is the cause of the problem, it is not so nice, is it? When a guy tells you that he wants you and you keep seeing other people, you are a bitch. Even if he is not committed 100% to you, the right thing to do is to sit in the same room with them and talk about what is going on. Do not have a fucking SMS conversation so shit does not get lost. Not everyone does things like you do, Melinda.

Yeah, you can see everything you did now and it matters but being the bigger person does not save you unless you are a sumo wrestler (and even then who is to say?).

I am tired.

Can I delete these last six months? I mean, yeah, I have grown in LEAPS AND BOUNDS but why do I only evolve when I am in pain or duress?

 

 

 

 

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