She's Got A Halo 'Round Her Finger 'Round You
I seem to keep finding my way back here, back to my old watering hole, so to speak. This place seems to hold something magical for me, a place where I can properly pen my feelings without the eyes of my personal peers staring down my back.
I'd like to think of my life right now like a video game quest; in order to complete it, I need to gather several different things, which means I need to kill several beasts before I get those things. Sounds easy, right? Hardly. These beasts are elites, each one representing the problems in my life that are threatening to crush me with so much as a solitary glare.
The first, and more foremost one, is my hell-hole of a love life. I've probably whined and complained about this more than anything else I've ever blogged about. From Mike, to Gaylon, to that damn good looking Greek boy Savvas, I'd like to think anyone who's read this has probably choked on my poor choices in men and either laughed or cried over my emotional roller coasters I've faced with each one. I guess I'm a sucker for punishment, because I found myself growing to someone without even realizing it, once again.
His name? We'll leave it out, for now, I guess, I don't know. After the wake of Gaylon pretty much not talking to me anymore (and yes, he hasn't said a peep to me since that last phone call. It's almost depressing, but not quite) I found solace with someone who took interest in me. Jarret* was already in the in-game guild I'm apart of, so I'd already learned a little about him. We shared a few, basic interests, and he said he loved my fire. One night, after complaining about being tired, he suggested to call me. I obliged, and it seemed to be the start of another little round of Tugging on Livi's Heart.
Things had been going fine, maybe a little disagreement here or there, but things were going well. At least, I thought so. He got my fire, and I gained his nurturing affection towards me. It was definitely a win-win situation. Until I goofed.
We had been talking the other night, like any night, and our conversation turned away from the innocence and towards the nitty-gritty. Everything had been going fine, until he said something. It wasn't even an insult, or an accusation, an attack, nada. Just a common statement.
And I cried.
Went into hysterics.
It must of been about fifteen minutes of me hiccuping and gasping for breath, while he's clueless as all hell as to what happened. Somewhere amidst the cries and tears, I explained what happened. He had said something that triggered a faint, but strong memory of my father, one where his hand was used as a weapon and my body was the punching bag. Jarret knew I hadn't had the best relationship with my father growing up, but I never specifically told him he used to beat me, call me worthless, and basically make me hate myself.
After the episode, I tried to remedy it. Of course, my timing had to suck, and his phone had to die. He said to call me after half an hour if I hadn't fallen asleep, and sure enough, half an hour came and went, and I called him. He was groggy, probably half-asleep, and said that his phone probably wouldn't last long, and that he'd talk to me tomorrow. I, against every fiber in my being, agreed, and hung up. I spent the next few hours wide awake in my bed, wondering what damage I had done.
This morning, naturally, I tried to call him. No answer. I called a few more times, spaced throughout the day, with no luck. That was where the first bells went off in my head. This wasn't like him, which meant something was on his mind. Still, I played it safe, assumed he was busy, and played about my day.
I came home and logged online, and right away, threw myself into an apology. He said it was fine, but then paused. I felt it coming, definitely. He said afterwards that he 'wanted to take things down a notch'. He said he still liked me, but wanted to breathe.
Of course, I thought, that would be what anyone wanted after hearing the girl they like sob on the phone over something as little as a statement. It got to me, clawing at my insides, reaching up into my heart and planting the seed of corruption I knew would consume me whole unless I cut it off. So here I am, shaking with the scalpel, my beating heart thumping uselessly in my hand.
So, where to cut?
*Name's been altered to save this person's soul should they ever read this. I'm sure they'll know it's them if they read it, but anything to keep them safe, I guess.
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