It was me who had to learn never you.

I promise you will be fine, just you wait and see.

Patience.

Never let go, I can never say again.

Solitary traffic.

I don’t remember anymore.

There is no anchor, there is only distancing myself from all around me.

What will it be like?

Familiar stone.

Intense horizon.

Burning chest, wrenching ventricles.

Steady on there, are you okay?

Shuddering bones.

Numb fingers.

Make me warm, I am proud, I don't see my lamp holder.

Invading thoughts, seeping through the shadows, you my dear are unfair.

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I never really believed that you felt mental pain in the physical sense. But my anguish has been expressed in a lot of physical ways. I feel like someone has reached their hands right in between my breasts to slowly bruise my soul there. The inside of my mouth is cut up, which could possibly mean that during sleep last night I chewed them up. My breath is short and shallow. I panic easily. Someone drove by and screamed “damn” at me out the window, I nearly screamed, but my body froze and I just stood there in shock. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to see people because I will lie when they ask me “how are you?” My anchor is thousands of miles away on a distant coast, and I wish so badly to be with her so that we could hold each other up properly.

Mostly what I offered via my letter was insensitively returned in single sentences that were entirely selfish. It was emotion lacking and had a non-present attitude. I completely opened the door to moving from gray to clear, and got nothing of what I wanted to get back. When I sent the email I sat on the floor shuddering, and mostly likely it was because I knew the outcome. I was never going to get what I want, and it’s not because he isn’t the person I want, but he won’t give me what I am looking for. I think I need someone who is going to actually tell me more then once “I miss you, I want you, I want to be there for you”. And he’s not interested, or he can’t or whatever the issue is, its not there, and I don’t think it will ever be there.

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I don't even know. What is going on... I suppose it was the way I expected it to be, which doesn't really line up with the way I want it to be. But I remember back in the day is said the same thing about the previous times. So really I don't think I can do anything with out complaining about it. Things won't ever be perfect. And after all of that, there really wasn't anything negative, just things I wanted that were missing. On his end, he was the same, or all the things he said he was feeling held true, just those things are not intense, don't create the type of feeling I am looking for in myself. I'll be back next weekend, but I'm still going to feel unsettled in my chest.

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I’m completely irrational. But last night I did cry, a long time. My post which I hap hazard spell checked once and then posted has a lot of issues besides just the grammatical errors. After my crying I lay still, more still then I have for a long time, my eyes burning but the rest of my body felt lifeless. I missed sober crying, or rather the feeling after it. I fell asleep for a little bit, in which I had a dream that it was morning, and Grant asked “was anyone over last night, I heard a lot of noise”, I just said “I had a rough night”. The dream ended. I woke up and read a little bit of my second Avalon book, searching for the inspiration that had guided me along all this time ago, the strength of the maiden/mother in my life, and it did not come, I only achieved more stillness. I fell asleep and dreamed nothing of my life, and woke up in a surprisingly good mood. Then remembered that morning was always the best time of the day and the late evenings the worst. Either way, I go now to face in person one of my troubles. I figure if I don’t go, I wont ever heal, I wont ever go again. And frankly the way I’m feeling is the least I deserve. I had it coming to me, and I don’t deserve to ask for happiness or love from anyone.

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I haven’t cried in months. And I am now. A whole toilet paper roll’s worth of tears to dry up. I haven’t felt more stressed and worried in years. I am so depressed, I’m finally facing the real hard truth about why I have all my sleepless nights, why I don’t want to go to school anymore, why I’m freaking grasping at straws. I am simply in a state of depression, that I have been trying to suppress even ignore. It’s hard for me to imagine someone I loved so deeply looking into someone else’s eyes with the same desire and intensity of complete devotion. I don’t even think I’m capable of doing that ever again with anyone. I don’t know if this weekend will change my mind about it either, or just reaffirm my beliefs. I don’t even know if I want to look at anyone else that way again, maybe I could love him or her, but it would never be the same. It’s never going to be the same as before. I feel like I’m not sure if could ever love that passionately again, as if I could ever have the opportunity to even try. I have the strangest feeling I am going to be alone the rest of my life, and that I may have had the chance not to be a hundred times over with a hundred different people or maybe just one, and that I fucking through my life down the drain. I’m so completely desperate at the moment to get some inclination that my life which has been spiraling out of control since my car accident, no since my bloody 21st birthday will ever feel good again for more then a period of one day. I have no joy in anything I do. I don’t have an affirmation; guarantee that I will be a whole person ever again. When I got drunk, I was crying about all the real things I am depressed about, not because of the days events, but when I was saying “don’t leave me alone” I was calling out to my old self, my friends, my old familiar comforting people. I just feel utterly completely alone, and I’m being led farther and farther away from places of complete security. I keep thinking this one weekend will cure everything, that magically he might turn into the perfect person for me, but its so hard to convince myself of that. It’s so hard, and that can only mean that there maybe no hope at all this weekend, that I’ll come back to Humboldt complete worn to my very soul. I’ll fall deeper into a slump of depression eventually leading me to a place I have never been, because I am reaching the threshold of where I have never ever gone past before. I get waves of okay-ness, where things seem to brighten up, either in excitement or company or words spoken, but moments later I doubt all over again, deep within me that everything will be okay. I know that most people end up leading miserable unhappy lonely lives, my sister for example, and I’m prone to end up like her. I’m terrified of everything. Someone just give me a chance to be happy again, to have someone love me again, let me not be stupid enough to ruin it, let me realize that I am lucky to have it, let me give back to them, and let me please please please not be alone.

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Am I living in an illusion, believing things are a certain way, relaxing and letting my guard down too much. It had been so good living in ignorance. I have a feeling this is really going to hurt.

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My wings are no longer folded around me. I’m on fire. Like the sun, I can feel the gold filling me up again. I’m longing for it, like my arms are reaching out until they turn into ancient banners, whipped by the wind. It’s so human, behind my ribs.

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I want more. I want all of it.

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The storm is coming! The wind blows hot at first. Chunky clouds, swelling with rain rumble over the land , pregnant with rain. My head aches from the weight of the sky. “The Forest House” depresses me, and I wonder when I can see or feel that intensely again. I wonder if it’s happening now. I can feel myself being pulled in by words spoken; yet I have always been the one to say, “We’re never going to make the bus”. I wonder about it, what it’s going to be like when I am dropped from lily pad to lily pad, finally making it to LA. Words spoken now could be glimpses into that time, but also preliminary thoughts of disappointment may lead me to find out otherwise. Sitting here I can almost feel the way I used to be, rivers are flowing again. I just have to get to them. When I hear the music of the water I have to be careful not to rush through the woods to it too quickly, or I loose the sound to my own feet crunching in the under growth. It’s delicate like a snowflake, it could melt away at the slightest change to its environment.

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I like the idea of having a boy friend tonight.

I saw two dead house cats today, hit and run, placed on the side of the road.

I played with kittens today; their eyes are like tide pools.

I am pining so much for something from someone, and what I imagine I want from this person is something I will never know until I try, I guess that is why I am at where I am. Sometimes I feel like everything I think I have gained in my life, is either an illusion or accompanied with more crazy human habits and issues, which are growing equally fast. A lot of time I have to remind myself that yes I am only human. And a human girl at that, I may believe there are things boys and girls do and feel the same, but there are many things that are meant to be different. And in my case all these human habits and issues I keep talking about are the ones that may be distinctly female and even distinctly Caitlin. They cannot be changed, nor can they be pushed away, stopped, but rather recognized, dealt with only after that.

I bought a book today by Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Forest House. It’s the prequel to her Mists of Avalon. That book stayed with me, and it morphed with other ideas, other books nd pushed forward my sense of being in touch with my girl side. The path in the moonlight and the power I have within myself that I sometimes realize, that my eyes sometimes tap into pulling in the boys around me, and yet I still stand unreachable, only to falter and pull inwards again away, hiding in the undergrowth from winking stars and my guide. When she comes back again, I hope it is not when I am already too far-gone down one path or the other. I ramble, and I know that only I will understand what I mean when I reread these things. On the other hand, usually this strength gets me only a few moments of power, in which I feel her flowing through me like fire, and usually its in the blinding sun when I am least expecting it that people come to me on their own, when she is quiet in me, but there and un-noticeable and stronger then ever. I hope she comes back again, I feel her sometimes, now and then, and when I look at the skylight in my room on a fully moonlit night I know she is waiting outside for me, to take my hand, and take me down to dance around her glowing fires.

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