i didn't repaint my half of the world

10:13 p.m. x 2010-08-27

currently listening to: --

oh fuck.

i made a massive mistake.

or i did not. i wish i had not done some things. but i was not the one who made a mistake.

i was not. at all.

i am quite mortified, though, and very justly. i am weirded out and wounded. how you found that spot to spear me in - i'm fucking dumbfounded.

you made a courting gesture and i made one back.

i would not have. i would have forgotten yours. i would have let it slide and on a bad day maybe used it to put you in line and remind you: these things mean. because it meant something to me. you engaged me on a level so specific and dear and i took it to MEAN. i was thrilled with the posibility of something fun. someone to know well. some knowing to explore. something to delight. all i think of in knowing others is delight. i have amazing friends and we make each other laugh and go on adventures and regale one another with immense exploits and massive feelings and to know me is to get a golden ticket to all this.

and when i am invited to know you in a way, and i was - we had a perscribed relationship and you altered the nature of this - i thought i could know you like that. that you would be a good thing for me to look forward to. you're not. you lied to me, of all things, for very much nothing.

there are worse ways to invade but this is a very valid wound: i have this special love that you intercepted and used and not only strung me up - intentionally or not, you did - but accepted my countergesture.

that was from one vulnerable person to another. your vulnerability, it would seem, is a very different kind than mine and a kind that implicates others.

god damn it.

why didn't you tell me?

if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start
(& etc)

anybody can be just like me, obviously.
not too many can be like you, fortunately.
KL 02-11