I'm not serial killer obsessed, but I do know a lot about Charles Manson, oddly. Who was never convicted of killing anyone. I don't know what his favorite ice cream was, though.
This could be long.
I lost something this week. A relationship. I am so unhappy about it. I love him so much.
In September, I fell. I'm clumsy. I did some damage to my face, I lost my bottom front teeth. There's not a gap, I have an appliance. I am extremely insecure about how I speak, now. I avoid it even more than usual. This process has been far more psychologically devastating than I can properly explain. It hurts. It's uncomfortable. I hate everything about it. If I'm not wearing it, there is a huge space. I can't talk like that, either. My anxiety has been through the roof. I understand that I haven't handled it well.
Neopolitan, maybe? A classic choice for a man who grew up poor.
I don't want this relationship to end. Let me tell you about him. He is warm where I am cold. He is a sunflower in a filed of daisies. I love his laugh. I love how his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I love how his mind works, he is methodical and considered. I truly love watching his face when he figures through something. He makes me feel safe, which I never really have before. He is like the sun, steady and hot, where I am mercurial and sometimes hidden in the dark, like the moon. He has all of the physical traits that I have said aren't really my thing, yet he is to me radiant and glorious. I have never felt so blissfully lost, physically, in another person. Was it love at first sight? Not by an extremely long shot. He was the partner to a friend for a long time. I don't think that way, poly past or not. I lost her, too, during this process. No conversation or anything. She just, walked away. I never meant to hurt her.
He was a friend. He made me the best cookies I've ever had for my birthday once, a few years ago. He is everything. Of course I know he's not perfect. But he is amazing. It's not rose colored glasses. He is the sun.
Maybe plain vanilla? Or chocolate. I don't think there was cookies and cream when Charles Manson grew up. Maybe homemade strawberry, or peach.
I was always insecure about how glorious he is, and how... me I am.
Fudge ripple? Pistachio? I really liked Spumoni as a kid. There's pistachio ice cream in that, right?
Let me tell you how I failed. SO many things I did not say. He can be seen as arrogant, but he doesn't take compliments well. I hate that the last time we were together went like it did, but I think he had already made up his mind. I wish I had asked to take walks with him. Be outside. Held hands in the woods. I wish I had pushed "doing things" a bit more. We never watched a movie together. There isn't a single picture of us. There is no trace on social media. I get the impression he didn't really tell anyone about us, I think we have a bunch of mutual friends who don't realize we were together. Maybe I wish I had said more. Maybe I wanted to be something to be proud of. I don't know. I wish I had talked more, about us. He is quieter than me, and that is saying something. I love his stillness. I could have made more plans, but I fell into an unsatisfying routine. I wish I had instigated adventure.
Maybe it was sherbet.
I want to fight for this, but I don't know how. I know he thought it through, and decided I fell more to the cost side than benefit. I want to scream how much I love him, and how I know I fucked up. But how can you argue with someone you know has thought it through? He isn't impulsive or irrational. I can't change how he feels now. I wish I knew how he did, before. I want to fight, but I don't know how. How do i fight for this?
I think peanut butter and chocolate is my favorite, specifically Baskin Robins. I don't know if Mr. Manson ever tried it. The peanut butter swirl is extra salty. Oddly, I don't like salted caramel and chocolate.
For 524 days, I sent him a good morning message, if I didn't say it in person. I wake up, and smile, and reach for the phone to send him good morning. I still reach for the phone before it comes back. He is the reason I smile in the morning. He's still out there. Now I get tears, because I want to touch him.
Peppermint ice cream? Did Mr. Manson have holiday spirit?
I ended up in the emergency room a couple of weeks ago. I thought I was having another heart attack. I find it strangely comforting that they test for heart attack by blood, now. Your heart sheds dying cells that can be measured. I also now know, by numbers, how close I came to death the first heart attack. The ER doctor gave me my medecine for a month. I feel so much better. I just have to figure out, in two weeks, how to gwt new prescriptions, without insurance. I can't go back to always feeling like I do without it, being afraid to go to sleep because I'm sure I won't wake up, because of the chest pain. I have had chest pain since my heart attack in February 2018. Dressler's syndrome, apparently. The heart medecine takes that away, which takes away a lot of my constant anxiety. I am demonstrably, medically, better.
Butter pecan? Praline?
This song has been in my head since Tuesday.
How do I fight for this? Please?
I bet it was vanilla.
So you say you don't want to stay together anymore
Let me take a deep breath babe
If you need me, me and Neil'll be hangin' out with the dream king
I don't believe you're leaving cause me and Charles Manson like the same ice cream
I think it's that girl and I think there're pieces of me you've never seen
Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen well
All I am
The black of the blackest ocean
And that tear in your hand
All the world is danglin', danglin', danglin' for me darlin'
You don't know the power that you have
With that tear in your hand
That tear in your hand
Smashing in a cold room cutting my hands up
Every time I touch you
Maybe maybe it's time to wave goodbye now
Time to wave goodbye now
I know I know you well well better than I used to
Haze all clouded up my mind
In the daze of the why it could've never been
So you say and I say you know you're full of wish
And your baby ,baby, baby ,babies
I tell you there are pieces of me you've never seen
Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen well
All I am
The black of the blackest ocean
And that tear in your hand
All the world is danglin', danglin', danglin' for me darlin'
You don't know the power that you have
With that tear in your hand
That tear in your hand
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