I've always found love to be a peculiar thing which makes sense because I tend to be such a peculiar person. I often think that I'd be so much happier if I had a mind that sought simplicity. Instead, I've always gone out of my way to make things so incredibly complicated and difficult for myself. The joy in that though is that I give really good advice to other people somewhat like myself, but unfortunately fail to ever take my own advice.
It's not uncommon for people to want what they can't have - to yearn for it even. I've definitely found myself in that kind of situation more times than I care to count or admit. Throughout my life I've been a perpetual fool - a peculiar, perpetual fool - with grand and unrealistic expectations of love and romance accompanied by a fiercely overactive imagination.
I wrote a poem about a woman that I was enthralled by at the time (I'm sure I was once convinced that I was in love with her, but I now know that that isn't what that was). She happened to be one of my best friends. I was looking to understand and navigate my own feelings for the first time since coming out to myself as bisexual. It's easy to see why I got so caught up with my feelings for her - I already had so much love for her which fueled this realization that I also found her deeply attractive in both a physical and intellectual sense. I still believe she is one of the most phenomenal human beings I have ever met in my entire life. But it would be stupid to think that that was love. It was certainly some intense form of infatuation and desperation for her unique understanding of me to overflow from the platonic into the romantic (so that I could be understood in that way as well). And I could never hold her responsible for the version or the idea of her that I had concocted in my mind.
She taught me so much both during and after that time in my life without even knowing or trying. I learned that I loved women, and I wasn't going to burst into flames and immediately descend into hell for admitting that to myself and other people. I learned that I am an excessively generous and giving person - sometimes to my own detriment - and that I ought to be very careful about who I invest my time and resources in. I learned that you cannot use pain to make people love you (I still struggle with that after having been so obsessed with pain and how I came to identify myself in accordance with my pain. I thought I would always have to maintain an aesthetic of being broken and brooding), and that as hard as you may try, you cannot force people to feel how you want them to.
I've since learned that I continue to experience emotions very deeply and intensely much to my own annoyance. I'm doing my best to be patient with myself, but mostly just kinder since I've been scared into repressing those intense emotions out of fear that I won't be able to control them or that people will think that I am too much. It's far easier, in the moment, to repress one's emotions and push people away, but it all catches up with you eventually and usually in a much more malicious manner. I've gotten a lot better at dealing with my own emotions more constructively and healthily - I have yet to master dealing with people because they possess their own set of emotions and intentions that I have no control over which leads me to the practically knee-jerk reaction of pushing them away to save myself from any potential harm. There's always more to do in the name of self-improvement, growth and healing.
I've also gotten used to the idea that I am too much for most once they catch a true glimpse of me, and that's entirely okay. Being too much for some doesn't make me any less worthy of love from myself or others. It's a hard pill to swallow especially when you're holding out hope that someone you care about and took the time to trust will be able understand you or appreciate you with no guarantee, but it's worth figuring out who is capable of experiencing your power without being intimidated by it or scared of it.
Finally, I've learned and am learning that all pain is temporary (and the same can be said for pleasure or happiness), but the way that it shapes you lingers for a lifetime... so the way that we process and address hardship is as important as it is to seek the joy that can come beyond it. As Humble the Poet so aptly said, "Fortunately/unfortunately, nothing lasts forever."
I love you, Lynn Seale. And not in the way that I thought I did when I wrote this poem, but I'm so grateful to have experienced myself with you as a muse.
It's not uncommon for people to want what they can't have - to yearn for it even. I've definitely found myself in that kind of situation more times than I care to count or admit. Throughout my life I've been a perpetual fool - a peculiar, perpetual fool - with grand and unrealistic expectations of love and romance accompanied by a fiercely overactive imagination.
I wrote a poem about a woman that I was enthralled by at the time (I'm sure I was once convinced that I was in love with her, but I now know that that isn't what that was). She happened to be one of my best friends. I was looking to understand and navigate my own feelings for the first time since coming out to myself as bisexual. It's easy to see why I got so caught up with my feelings for her - I already had so much love for her which fueled this realization that I also found her deeply attractive in both a physical and intellectual sense. I still believe she is one of the most phenomenal human beings I have ever met in my entire life. But it would be stupid to think that that was love. It was certainly some intense form of infatuation and desperation for her unique understanding of me to overflow from the platonic into the romantic (so that I could be understood in that way as well). And I could never hold her responsible for the version or the idea of her that I had concocted in my mind.
She taught me so much both during and after that time in my life without even knowing or trying. I learned that I loved women, and I wasn't going to burst into flames and immediately descend into hell for admitting that to myself and other people. I learned that I am an excessively generous and giving person - sometimes to my own detriment - and that I ought to be very careful about who I invest my time and resources in. I learned that you cannot use pain to make people love you (I still struggle with that after having been so obsessed with pain and how I came to identify myself in accordance with my pain. I thought I would always have to maintain an aesthetic of being broken and brooding), and that as hard as you may try, you cannot force people to feel how you want them to.
I've since learned that I continue to experience emotions very deeply and intensely much to my own annoyance. I'm doing my best to be patient with myself, but mostly just kinder since I've been scared into repressing those intense emotions out of fear that I won't be able to control them or that people will think that I am too much. It's far easier, in the moment, to repress one's emotions and push people away, but it all catches up with you eventually and usually in a much more malicious manner. I've gotten a lot better at dealing with my own emotions more constructively and healthily - I have yet to master dealing with people because they possess their own set of emotions and intentions that I have no control over which leads me to the practically knee-jerk reaction of pushing them away to save myself from any potential harm. There's always more to do in the name of self-improvement, growth and healing.
I've also gotten used to the idea that I am too much for most once they catch a true glimpse of me, and that's entirely okay. Being too much for some doesn't make me any less worthy of love from myself or others. It's a hard pill to swallow especially when you're holding out hope that someone you care about and took the time to trust will be able understand you or appreciate you with no guarantee, but it's worth figuring out who is capable of experiencing your power without being intimidated by it or scared of it.
Finally, I've learned and am learning that all pain is temporary (and the same can be said for pleasure or happiness), but the way that it shapes you lingers for a lifetime... so the way that we process and address hardship is as important as it is to seek the joy that can come beyond it. As Humble the Poet so aptly said, "Fortunately/unfortunately, nothing lasts forever."
I love you, Lynn Seale. And not in the way that I thought I did when I wrote this poem, but I'm so grateful to have experienced myself with you as a muse.
 |  |
Black Coffee
Some people
Don’t understand
Why I have come to
Love you -
Why I am
Happily addicted
To you.
They reject you with haste
But I have acquired the taste -
You’re like
Black coffee.
Not that instant,
Artificial crap…
I mean the full-bodied,
Almost too strong
Never steeped too long
Bitter, dark magic
That singes my lips and
Takes over my mouth
Like you once did…
When I momentarily forgot
To take note
CAUTION: HOT
The vapour that circles
The cup cradled in my hands
Reminds me of
The smoke
That filters up through the strands
Of your jet-black hair
As it billows from your mouth
And escapes into the air.
You’re like an injection
Of pure caffeine
I come crashing down
From the pristine
High of happiness
When you have to go.
Black -
Like your tragic soul
Black -
Like this heart of mine
Which you could never love
If it were whole.
No sugar -
No euphemism
For the nihilism
i.e.
Life is meaningless
Without you.
No milk -
No disturbance of
The smooth, dark velvet
Existence.
No deceit etched
In the white of their eyes
When they tell me pre-meditated lies,
Attempting to protect me
Only to prevent me
From living…
To dilute and render cold
My desire and capacity
To love you.
Black
Like your absence…
You leave
Stains of festering insanity -
Irremovable.
They cover me.
You’re like
Black coffee.
Some people
Don’t understand
Why I have come to
Love you -
Why I am
Happily addicted
To you.
They reject you with haste
But I have acquired the taste -
You’re like
Black coffee.
Not that instant,
Artificial crap…
I mean the full-bodied,
Almost too strong
Never steeped too long
Bitter, dark magic
That singes my lips and
Takes over my mouth
Like you once did…
When I momentarily forgot
To take note
CAUTION: HOT
The vapour that circles
The cup cradled in my hands
Reminds me of
The smoke
That filters up through the strands
Of your jet-black hair
As it billows from your mouth
And escapes into the air.
You’re like an injection
Of pure caffeine
I come crashing down
From the pristine
High of happiness
When you have to go.
Black -
Like your tragic soul
Black -
Like this heart of mine
Which you could never love
If it were whole.
No sugar -
No euphemism
For the nihilism
i.e.
Life is meaningless
Without you.
No milk -
No disturbance of
The smooth, dark velvet
Existence.
No deceit etched
In the white of their eyes
When they tell me pre-meditated lies,
Attempting to protect me
Only to prevent me
From living…
To dilute and render cold
My desire and capacity
To love you.
Black
Like your absence…
You leave
Stains of festering insanity -
Irremovable.
They cover me.
You’re like
Black coffee.
RSS Feed