sapphire02's Diaryland Diary

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Attaching ourselves to older women, looking for some maternal pacifier that will kiss away our boo-boos, our mouth sealed shut against deluge that longs to pour from within.
I fell in love with many, not in a sexual manner, but more as a child that adored a mother. I longed to cry out upon their soft skin, smelling their perfume as years of tears were released like waters from a dam.
No such luck.

For there was always something that prevented me from telling all. Instead, the needy became the mother. Often times we'd sit her and I, she'd cry and tell me of this man or that asshole that had wronged her. I'd rant and rave along side, forgetting for a moment that I was the child, and she was the experienced one.
I turned instead to men. It didn't matter what they looked like, so long as they were interested only in me as a sister. I wanted, no needed to feel protected. I ventured out after dark into bars and clubs alone. My demeaner was of one much stronger than I felt. In the end, some man would see through it all, and for the night shelter me from the storm of myself.

Don't touch me, don't ever touch me....I am sexless
They too, never really knew what I fought against.

"You are like a flower who's petals have been damaged. I can see a permanent sadness in your eyes." One man said to me as we danced. I smiled my mysterious smile and averted my eyes. I didn't want them to read to far or too deeply in the story that lie within.

I was empty, and searching; disappointment met me around every bend. Slowly I stopped talking. One less sentence here, no more laughter there. I began to blend in with the walls that surrounded me.
No one could possibly understand, for the few I had confided in before, had turned me away. I could not possibly share any more. Perhaps if someone with some insight had taken a closer look, they would have seen on the outside, what my inside could not say.
I was fading into nothing.

No more emotions...I prayed...No more I can't handle these

One would see me staring at the computer screen, thinking I was chatting or writing. I was simply staring at nothing. I often pretended that I was reading something interesting, or that I was talking to someone, but really, I was willing all emotion to go away. My tears stopped, and I became stone.

For awhile my demons lay dormant. As I focused my attention on my disappearing act, the voices that accused me of being unworthy grew quiet. I didn't hear the real ones that shouted from across the room, that I would never be loved, that I could never be pretty. I was locked away in a room of my own construction. I was safe.

I am sitting here forcing my fingers to type. I notice that the scar I bore on my right hand is slowly fading. The calloused skin that bore testimony of secret pain, is finally disappearing.

Somethings happened and I am powerless to stop it. Something snapped and I am being drawn back into her. I say her because it is often easier for me to personify this force than to simply say,
I've overcome my good sense and have chosen to fall once again.

Yet isn't that what I've done?

Emotion...such strong emotion is welling up inside me, love that hurts like a thousand hammers in my chest, is threatening to pound me into dust. I cannot breathe under this pressure.
Time, I have become obsessed with time. Or shall I say, I've become obsessed with the lack of.
I count down the hours, the seconds.
"Don't leave on a bad note, I won't see you again for 5 days." Or "They are growing so fast, we need to take these moments as they come."

The madness that is setting in freezes time. Suddenly, minutes that seem to have flown by yesterday, drag on and on.
It's 3:01 a.m. and I am still awake.

It is in time such as this that I miss my husband. I miss him holding me close.. feeling like I'm about to break. I miss his hands upon my hip bones, the hollow pit in my stomach, where he presses his lips. I miss feeling empty until his body lowers itself and fills me.
I don't need anything else...I don't want to be soiled with anything else.

How can I possibly make anyone else understand?

Instead I am sitting here, feeling too full. Unable to do a thing about it. Obsessing over spaces between my fingers, contemplating the gaps between my rib cage.
Are they shrinking as my body puts on the baby fat?

I have not gained any weight since last month, but I can tell the baby's bigger.

I am crazy...no I am mad. I am craving that which I cannot be. At least, not yet. And some you will truly understand why, because you have suffered in my shoes. A spirit torn apart, never truly mends. At least, not in this life.
Perhaps this is why I no longer seek those in authority for guidance. I am sick of text book answers for spiritual problems. I am weary of well-meaning church people telling me that Jesus heals all.
Perfect love may heal, as Jesus did say, but even He still bore the scars upon His hands and feet.
If I am less than He, how can I be so stupid to believe that I will one day wake up and not see mine?
How can someone say,

"Jesus will take it away if you believe?"

That is foolish. It is misdirected hope from the unknowing. The only time we will no longer cry is in heaven.

So where does this leave me? It leaves me here...listening to the whirring of my computer, alone in the dark. Wondering when I will achieve my goal and find that wonderful place of peace.

3:27 a.m. - 2007-02-22

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