Going Mad with love

[Sortofsubmissivehw]

Sometimes selfishness is terrific.  Just thinking about me, myself (my BEAUTIFUL SELF) and I.  Yoga, painting, coffee houses near kinky sex shops and buying something wicked to wear.  For me and enjoying me.  Once you have some distance between her and you... maybe try something uncomfortable?  Safely dangerous?  Zip line?  Sky dive?  Hang glide? 

There was a bridge I had seen kids jump off in the day time.  I did it naked, at night, by myself!  I loooved it.  I needed to feel something.  It was safely dangerous.  Then I went San Francisco for shopping and dancing with strangers.  Can you do that?  I was out of my head like I had not been in at least 5 years.  Sometimes a wild shock shakes me out of my misery.  Safely of course (I love me). You sound like you love you too.  I would like to hear what makes you amazing (aside from your ability to love deeply) what makes you happy?  What are you excited about?  Looking forward to?

[Katiebee]

I examine myself quite often. Some might consider that a problem, or more accurately, self-absorption. I see it as self-critique, analysis of behavior and action, a need to know why I am doing things a certain way and feeling about things in my life. I don’t see it as ego-centric, just something that can comfort me, or in a worst case, really make me feel bad.

The matter at hand, of course, is the affair of the heart that has vexed me for over a year. I love a woman. One specific, wonderful, beautiful, funny, intelligent, sensitive woman. My strength is that I love her deeply, strongly, truly. My downfall and weakness is that I love her deeply, strongly, truly.

I know what I feel for her is true, I know because I  have expended effort, treasure, time, devoted my actions to making her safe, seeing to her well-being. I have no doubt that I would step between her and whatever peril approaches her without hesitation. I defend her against detractors, who are probably correct in their assessment of her and her intentions. I know the strength of my love by the way I willingly ignore reality.

I know that I have been blind, foolish, stupid even. And still, the great joys in my life are the moments where she showed me affection spontaneously, tenderly. And I wonder continually, are these but images of dreams, am I nothing but the Lady of Shalott, cursed to weave tapestry of a world she is forbidden to view? Will the curse break when I see the truth and be my doom?

I do not regret loving her, that is wonderful, it gives me life. I do regret, but my regrets are not of loving her, regret cannot sully the purity of that. I regret the pain, I regret that I shall probably never receive her unfettered love. I regret never having reached the fulfillment of laying , completely hers, safe within her heart. That I regret.

As a soldier regrets the dawn he will never see, so I regret the love I will never have.

These months have taken a toll upon me. My sleep is troubled by anxiety dreams, I wake at 4 in the morning, without fail. I sleep fitfully. My appetite is small,, I eat when I can, but there is little joy in the taste. I have lost nearly 20 pounds, I hover around 105.

I go to work early, I stay late. I don't want to let my mind have time to wander. The night is worst of all.

[Sortofsubmissivehw]

me thinks you needs pot and ice cream and pizza and maybe that chocolate fudgy stuff you nuke so it gets drippy and some extra large peanuts.

You girl, are sooo in your head.  You remind of a friend I had in high school.  She was rich, had her own house and fell for straight girls.  The straight girls would string her along "I think I like girls? I'm just not sure."  While they moved into my friends home and let her by them gifts and food.  Horrible creatures.  Horrible unemployed users.

Not that your girl is a horrible creature.  She sounds neat.

Have you tried pot with a stupid movie?  Maybe a scary movie?  Something not romantic or kissy kissy? 

If we were friends- I would bring you Doritos, vanilla ice cream, fudgy stuff, peanuts, root beer, a pepperoni pizza, and your choice of the entire Saw or Harry Potter series and maybe some Ohayo Miyazaki movies.  Spirited Away?  and a new pillow!

You need to eat, Hon.  someone is hoping to meet you and you want to be your best

[Katiebee]

Tonight is a particularly bad night. Self-doubt, emotional vulnerability, the crying need to be held, comforted, loved. I have read sci-fi novels that painted the world in shades of flat grey. Tonight, I can see that same coloration in my life. I feel as though I am wandering a dystopian landscape. A place where hope is a cruel jape upon my senses, where optimisim is a known enemy of survival. An environment where the best one can hope for is a death that doesn't linger long, where the beast that kills you won't toy with you, or at least where you bleed out quickly.

My heart is tattered, the scars upon it are thick and hard. The wounds are still tender, they rip open often and feel like ground glass and salt is rubbed into them.

Haven't we all loved that one person whom we shouldn't have? The one who asked you to believe that they loved you, asked you to trust them, the one who made your life a weeping hell.

Hell is never so sweet as when it is lubricated with your tears. Never so warm as when your life's blood flows in the gutters. Never so safe as when your emotions are wrenched from you like the discared overused parts of a junker car.

[Katiebee]

I have been reading old posts in threads I have participated in. When viewed from the distance of time, it seems so ironic. Ironic that there was a time I didn't yearn for that one special person, from 2010 to mid 2012 I was not involved with anyone. My redheaded Amazon had left and was in Austin, working, pursuing her life.

I was ok with that. I loved her, I still do. We both knew that our time together was limited. We parted as we met, with trepidation but with respect and affection for each other. How different my life has been since then. I met my love in 2012. I can see my life as happy and enjoyable up through 2013. Things changed then. In the summer of 2013 I discovered that I loved her, deeply, intensely, truly.

And by the end of that year I was on the roller coaster, being sent into the highs of ecstatic love, feeling wonderful because of what she said to me, of her smile, of being with her, and the depression and anguish of her actions toward me that were so wrong.

I am a stubborn fool. I let her deep into my heart and soul. I refused sanity and reality because I believed her when she said she loved me, I placed my trust in her love.

I desperately have held onto that love. My love for her is pure, it is strong, it runs through me as a part of my soul, it is good, clean, and wonderful. I love.

That I love her is what is problematic.

I can imagine how frustrating it is for a doctor to give advice and have people ignore it. I find I do that myself. I know the sane and reasonable thing to do, yet I cannot do it. I cling to hope, a forlorn hope. Like someone drowning, gasping in the water to my lungs, hoping that I will breech and find air. But I remain just under the surface. I cannot seem to find that release and life giving breath.

I feel like I reside upon deaths doorstep. I fear the end, I am fascinated by it, but I cannot progress forward or backward.

My chest hurts most of the time, either I am still grieving, or I'm having a heart attack. I can't tell which to dread more.

I am exhausted, and I cannot rest. I keep hearing my father's words, the urging he gave to his troops, the mantra he drummed into my brothers and I."On your dying feet, trooper."

Like John Carter of Mars, my father would never allow defeat while breath still existed within him. And neither can I.

[Katiebee]

There are times when I feel like I know the future. At least it feels like that. The anticipation of seeing and being with a lover,yet knowing after the first few minutes that the elation you feel at seeing them again is as good as it gets. The empty, hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach the slightly ill feeling as you realize the outcome is the same as it always was.

The sadness that floats through you making you feel disassociated from your own body. It is at times like this that I wonder if the last moments of life feel the same. The powerlessness, the vagueness of your emotions, is that what it feels as your soul leaves?

[Katiebee]

In the dark of my soul, I need reassurance, I need to know that I can stand in the blast of the furnace and withstand all adversity. To do that I seek songs that uplift me. Like "I Need a Hero". But that only goes so far to strengthen my resolve, and does nothing to remove my doubts.

That's when I listen to a small voice message my love sent me. It runs a vary brief 33 seconds. She starts by telling me "There will be a day you will hold me..." this she emphasises with a promise that it will occur. She tells me she loves me more than anything in the world, that she misses me and she wants me around her every second of the day. And then she stumbles over her words, searching for the way to express her thoughts. And through the false starts she says she has made so many mistakes. She can only start a phrase before it halts in her throat. But she can beg me to please know she loves me.

She loves me.

Upon those words I float in an euphoric bliss. No matter how forlorn I know that to be, it gives me the few moments when I feel whole and strong, complete and at peace. Then it dissipates like the dew on a hot west Texas morning, existing as a memory, a chimera, a foolish gilded lily.

All I want is to appear to her on a fiery steed to rescue her from her fears, to slay the demons that pursue her, to stand in line of battle against all her adversaries and destroy them.

Of all the people she has been in a relationship with, I suspect I am the only one who truly, deeply, strongly loves her for herself, and not for what can be gotten from her.

My father calls this attitude my forlorn hope complex. That being the romantic I am, the daughter of a soldier, that I will willing join in a hopless fight, that I will stand in the rear guard and keep my love safe from approaching danger no matter the cost.

That may be. What I do know is that I will do whatever is best for my love, regardless of the cost to me.

[Katiebee]

There are many facets to sadness. One of the worst for me is when your sadness is a direct result of you doing what you know will be painful, will make you cry in anguish, and wound deep into your soul and heart, yet you do it anyway.

Add to that the insult to your self-esteem as you watch yourself doing it, and knowing in the the forefront of your mind that this is so wrong, so hurtful. Yet you can't stop. It is the only way to come close to grasping your heart's desire. So close yet a universe away. When you stand so close to her you can sense her body heat, and you know you aren't allowed to encompass her in your arms.

It is an exquisitely painful sadness that over takes you, like the sable cloak of a moonless night, softly rushing around you. Moonless and overcast, a murderer's night.

[Katiebee]

Hope is the cruelest mistress. Hope makes you feel wonderful, your tumbling limbs, the skipping of your heartbeat, betray your true knowledge, that this may be nothing but a forlorn hope. Yet you grasp it tightly to your breast. You croon to your hope, lullabys to soothe your fear, anything to keep your stomach from rising to your mouth.

Yet you still hope, the false hope that may be offered younisnstill hope. Time will reveal it to be the truest realization of your happiness, a vindication of your faith and trust, or the cruel and hateful fire of lost hope.

[Katiebee]

I know I have been loved, I just don’t know exeactly what is in her heart for me. I have been loyal and steady in my love for her. I gave her support, love, I have always been there in her need. She turns to me when she needs help.

I give to her, and nothing is left for me. I don’t know why I stay, but in my heart I do know. When you love, you do so with all your heart, all your soul. She has my heart and my soul.

[_priapism]

*hugs*

[Katiebee]

I must be crazy. I have done stupid shit before. It’s been five years and I still carry a torch for her. Five years of knowing what she did to me, how she treated me.

Is it love, stupidity, or just being mad?

[Athos_131]

Living well is the best revenge.

#Resist

[MissBarbara]

Is it love, stupidity, or just being mad?

No, it's simply being human.

[Katiebee]

Damn the depression. Why does it always have to erupt at night when i’m alone in bed?

It’s almost like it’s a predator waiting for me to be at my most vulnerable before striking. The daylight is when I resist it most effectively.

My father told me, when I was small, and terrified of the dark, that when he was growing up he was scared of the dark too.

I asked, “Are you still scared of the dark?”

He smiled, hugged me, and said, “No. when I grew up and was in the Army I had to go on patrols in the dark. And I discovered I didn’t have to be afraid of things that went ‘bump in the night,’ because I was what went bump in the night.”

He continued, “there is nothing in the dark that is stronger than you, more fearsome than you are.”

I believed him then, as I do now. I am what goes bump in the night and I have nothing to fear in the dark. What I have to fear is my own doubts. They expand in the darkling void. They have nothing to let me grapple with.

All I have are  my thoughts and words to combat them.

[watcher1]

Katie, you have your thoughts and words to combat your doubts but you also have your KB friends here to help you with your fight. We are family and look out for one another. Hugs.

[Katiebee]

It never seems to end. Hope to despair to hope to self-loathing, to hope to despair.

Some days it seems like an addictive drug. The highs feels so very good. Too bad they never last long.

[vinney]

We are thinking of you Katie and sending our prayers and love.