True love. I don't really believe in it, nor do I want to. I'm not really made for love or commitment, I can't imagine ever being in a long-term relationship, a "best friend", a buddy for life. My emotions are just too fluid. Things change all the time. Still, I like to think I've been in love. I've had relationships, infatuations, fantasies that I'll never forget. Three times in my life I met someone who forever changed how I view love, myself, and feelings. Here's my story:
1. I was 15 when I had my first boyfriend. He was my first kiss, the first person other than myself to pleasure me, the first person I fantasized about, the first person to tell me "I love you", the first person I ever told "I love you" to, the first person I went on a date with, the first person to buy me flowers, my first Valentine, and many, many other firsts. We were together almost six months, making him my longest relationship. I was young, and I know that, looking back. Yet this boy forever changed my life. One's first intimacy is always life changing. As is the first time someone returns one's love. But he was also my first break-up, my first heartbreak, the first boy I ever cried over - and, oh, did I cry. It was then, at 15, that I first learned about love, and all it entails.
2. Two years ago, just a few weeks before I turned 17, I met the perfect guy. He was seriously the person I've always looked for, the boy I've always dreamed of. In every way, he was perfect. Attractive, intelligent, articulate, brilliant, wise. He was the kind of guy that blew girls off their feet the moment he met them, but what I felt was something more. We were meant to be together. For a year and a half I loved him, on-and-off. Except for a few brief make-out sessions, we never did get together. Still, I haven't been the same since. I found him, despite how unlikely it was, I found the perfect guy. Everything I had ever imagined came into my life, and I liked him for so long.
3. At 18, shortly after finally getting over number 2, I found someone else that forever changed my life. My desire for her was different than anything else I'd ever experienced. She was the cliche of perfect. She laughed at my jokes, spent time with me, made me feel amazing about myself. We were friends, we had fun together, we got along. It wasn't a desperate affection, either, and being away from her for months now hasn't caused me any heartbreak (though I miss her terribly). I have never been happier to meet a person who changed my life like I know she did. If I am ever to spend my entire life with someone, this is exactly the kind of relationship that I want.
I know, someday, another one will come along. But true love is few and far between. In the meantime, we just keep swimming.
28 December 2009
17 December 2009
First Semester
Today, I finished my last final, and survived my first semester of college.
I had those nights that I feared, those evenings where I shut the door and cried, feeling like I'd never make friends, that I'd always be alone. Sometimes, I would sit alone in my room, my door open, inviting others in, hoping others would come in, but instead, only their voices entered my room, their distant conversations about drugs and love and the world, and I would shut the door and cry. Why can they make friends and not me, I wondered? At times I was desperate, hopeless, refreshing facebook, looking at who was online, hoping that someone - anyone - would talk to me. At times, I slipped back into depression, not sleeping or eating for days, wondering when I would ever find a friend.
But those nights didn't happen all that often. I was surprised by how few of those there were, compared to the times I spent with others, talking for hours on end in the dining halls or on the grass or at Starbucks. I exchanged secrets with dear friends while spooning on the floor and intoxicated. I stayed up late with friends by my side. I began getting texts, phone calls, facebook messages, connexion testimonials. We had sleepovers, study sessions, and a lot of stripping. I began getting hugs and kisses, I began flirting and being flirted with, and my heart began to soar. This is college, I realized, and I am surviving - really, really surviving.
There are a few people/places/things/ideas I would like to thank for making this an amazing semester:
1. God. I prayed a lot this semester. I prayed in bed, on the floor, and in trees. (On another note, I've befriended many trees, Boulder has many great trees for climbing.) God helped me through by helping me understand what was amazing about my life, and how much hope I really had. Without unconditional faith, I couldn't have done it. Having completely given myself to Hir, I stayed on the right path, and found my way here.
2. The LGBTQA community. I quickly found my place within the LGBTQA community. I met so many amazing people through GSA, QI, Gather, and the trip to Washington DC for the National Equality March. Even when I met people outside queer clubs, many still ended up coming to the RC eventually. Even before I was queer, I always felt in place in the LGBTQA community, and college is no exception.
3. Colorado. Even when I thought that I could never belong at CU, that Boulder just wasn't my place, I looked at the flatirons, and everything seemed a little better. I love Colorado, and I couldn't imagine living anywhere but here, at foot of the most beautiful mountains, in such an amazing, beautiful town.
4. Education. My classes made everything worth while. I learned more this semester than ever before in my life, and my entire worldview has changed. Every single lecture I attended, every single article I read, every single paper I wrote absolutely blew my mind. Without being able to look forward to class, I would have never made it.
I finished my first semester of college. I am a sophomore standing. I turn 19 in five days. I'm growing up, and I'm terrified, but I'm glad there are things out there to help me through.
I had those nights that I feared, those evenings where I shut the door and cried, feeling like I'd never make friends, that I'd always be alone. Sometimes, I would sit alone in my room, my door open, inviting others in, hoping others would come in, but instead, only their voices entered my room, their distant conversations about drugs and love and the world, and I would shut the door and cry. Why can they make friends and not me, I wondered? At times I was desperate, hopeless, refreshing facebook, looking at who was online, hoping that someone - anyone - would talk to me. At times, I slipped back into depression, not sleeping or eating for days, wondering when I would ever find a friend.
But those nights didn't happen all that often. I was surprised by how few of those there were, compared to the times I spent with others, talking for hours on end in the dining halls or on the grass or at Starbucks. I exchanged secrets with dear friends while spooning on the floor and intoxicated. I stayed up late with friends by my side. I began getting texts, phone calls, facebook messages, connexion testimonials. We had sleepovers, study sessions, and a lot of stripping. I began getting hugs and kisses, I began flirting and being flirted with, and my heart began to soar. This is college, I realized, and I am surviving - really, really surviving.
There are a few people/places/things/ideas I would like to thank for making this an amazing semester:
1. God. I prayed a lot this semester. I prayed in bed, on the floor, and in trees. (On another note, I've befriended many trees, Boulder has many great trees for climbing.) God helped me through by helping me understand what was amazing about my life, and how much hope I really had. Without unconditional faith, I couldn't have done it. Having completely given myself to Hir, I stayed on the right path, and found my way here.
2. The LGBTQA community. I quickly found my place within the LGBTQA community. I met so many amazing people through GSA, QI, Gather, and the trip to Washington DC for the National Equality March. Even when I met people outside queer clubs, many still ended up coming to the RC eventually. Even before I was queer, I always felt in place in the LGBTQA community, and college is no exception.
3. Colorado. Even when I thought that I could never belong at CU, that Boulder just wasn't my place, I looked at the flatirons, and everything seemed a little better. I love Colorado, and I couldn't imagine living anywhere but here, at foot of the most beautiful mountains, in such an amazing, beautiful town.
4. Education. My classes made everything worth while. I learned more this semester than ever before in my life, and my entire worldview has changed. Every single lecture I attended, every single article I read, every single paper I wrote absolutely blew my mind. Without being able to look forward to class, I would have never made it.
I finished my first semester of college. I am a sophomore standing. I turn 19 in five days. I'm growing up, and I'm terrified, but I'm glad there are things out there to help me through.
16 December 2009
Prayer
"Shhh. Listen closely.
Do you hear that sound?
Try again.
It might sound like the wind or a bird or maybe it sounds like nothing at all, but it's the loudest sound you'll ever hear.
It's our God screaming for help.
Asking you to notice him, to listen to him.
But you are too busy. You're too busy doing your make-up or saving the world. Busy insulting others or proving that you're the best.
Forget it.
Maybe, if, for just a moment, you forgot that you exist, you'd hear him."
-- from my journal, 01.19.08
Do you pray? I suggest you try it. Praying is powerful. God answers all my questions. I curl up on the floor and surrender everything to Hir, give my entire life to Hir, fall completely into Hir arms. Ze cradles me, holds me, and whispers into my ear. I know just what God is saying, they're things I knew already, things that are so obvious, but I've ignored them so much. Thank you, I tell Hir, thank you, you have all the answers.
And, as I slowly emerge from my prayer, God is still here, still holding me, still by my side. I see Hir everywhere, I feel Hir everywhere. And I know the way. Pray. Try it, just once. Hear what Ze has to say. You just might be surprised.
11 December 2009
Childhood
When I was in 9th grade, in English, I read Catcher in the Rye (one of my favorite books of all time). Our assignment was to psychologically diagnose Holden Caulfield. It was a very interesting assignment, and I learned a lot about psychology and coming of age. I would look up conditions on the internet, write down the ones I thought fit, and looked them up in my mom's plentiful medical texts. While doing this assignment, I discovered something I found especially interesting. The chapter on Asperger's syndrome was highlighted, with notes written in the margin. I didn't take me long to realize that the notes were about me. In fact, the highlighted regions described me perfectly, especially as a child.
I learned to speak, read, and write early and quickly, typical of Asperger's syndrome. I'd find little obsessions, passions, and I could amuse myself for hours reading and studying these things; then, I would talk, non-stop, about the things I found interesting, unable to understand that no one else really cared - another typical trait in children with Asperger's syndrom. I was intelligent, independent, quiet, and an overall good kid. But, at times, I would have intense temper tantrums, troubled by change in routine, a new situation, or anything that I didn't understand. Most notably, I struggled with social interaction and non-verbal communication.
It's not that I was a lonely child, but I was very much alone. I'd choose a book over a friend any day. In elementary school, I'd eat alone and spend recess alone, swinging on the swings or playing with my stuffed animals. I had a few friends, but we were never close, and I never really understood them. My teachers were worried. They'd call up my mom, tell her that I don't have any friends. At one point, my elementary school psychologist put me in a room with some girls my age. I played with them for a little while, and then went off to play on my own. She asked me why I wasn't playing with them, and I said that I simply didn't care, I liked to play on my own. My mom never got me diagnosed; she feared that it would interfere with my adult life. It wasn't until highschool that I first made friends who I would spend quality time with, who I hung out with outside of school.
Most of this I learned from my mom, when I asked her about the book. It wasn't really a shock, more like an answer. I quickly became comfortable with the idea, and I felt that the disease explained my personality, childhood, and entire life. Of course, by that time, I had changed a lot since I was a child. My mom explained that she thought I mostly grew out of the disease - that, rarely, children even grow out of autism, and that growing out of Asperger's wasn't particularly shocking.
Armed with the new understanding of who I was, I set out on the social journey known as highschool. Of course, I hadn't changed entirely. I became sensitive to change and to the unknown, and prone to long periods of Adjustment Depression; I still had temper tantrums, as if I was a baby, overwhelmed by things I didn't understand. I remained obsessive, reading about things or fixating on ideas, and would go on rants about them, unable to tell that others weren't interested. I struggled with non-verbal communication, and my mom would often have to point out what was going on, when I simply couldn't know. Mostly, I struggled with social interaction. A lot of it, I blamed on what remained of the disease: difficulty for non-verbal communication, the constant need for verbal feedback to know that people cared about me or the things I was saying. A lot of it, though, I blamed on what the disease did to my childhood. You see, it's when we're young that we learn about people, that we learn what it means to make friends and to love and to care. It's when we're young that we're socialized by our peers, that we become who we'll always be. I grew into myself intellectually, physically, mentally, emotionally as a child. But I never grew into the world socially, and I never learned all those things that now seem like common-sense. Yes, I don't have common sense.
I'd go through stages in highschool, first feeling proud of the independence and non-conformity and maturity I had achieved. Then, I was overcome by the challenge of learning how to make and stay friends. After a while, as I succeeded in some respects but not in others, I grew sad, upset that I couldn't understand others, certain that I would always be lonely.
Highschool was easier than college is. In that social bubble, I could act a role, any role I wanted, and people would accept me as such. College is more difficult. Outside the bubble, people are truly themselves. They're older, more mature, and I simply don't feel like I can keep up. Friendships are closer, more intimate, but based less on day-to-day interaction and superfuntime and more on overcoming life's plentiful challenges and the occasional adult relationship.
And I feel lonely. And I feel scared. And I feel young. And I feel incapable of knowing what's going on, incapable of being close to others. I'm afraid I'll never have friends, though I try. And, if I can't make friends, how can I ever care for someone romantically? I am craving a deeper connection, that I just can't seem to find.
I learned to speak, read, and write early and quickly, typical of Asperger's syndrome. I'd find little obsessions, passions, and I could amuse myself for hours reading and studying these things; then, I would talk, non-stop, about the things I found interesting, unable to understand that no one else really cared - another typical trait in children with Asperger's syndrom. I was intelligent, independent, quiet, and an overall good kid. But, at times, I would have intense temper tantrums, troubled by change in routine, a new situation, or anything that I didn't understand. Most notably, I struggled with social interaction and non-verbal communication.
It's not that I was a lonely child, but I was very much alone. I'd choose a book over a friend any day. In elementary school, I'd eat alone and spend recess alone, swinging on the swings or playing with my stuffed animals. I had a few friends, but we were never close, and I never really understood them. My teachers were worried. They'd call up my mom, tell her that I don't have any friends. At one point, my elementary school psychologist put me in a room with some girls my age. I played with them for a little while, and then went off to play on my own. She asked me why I wasn't playing with them, and I said that I simply didn't care, I liked to play on my own. My mom never got me diagnosed; she feared that it would interfere with my adult life. It wasn't until highschool that I first made friends who I would spend quality time with, who I hung out with outside of school.
Most of this I learned from my mom, when I asked her about the book. It wasn't really a shock, more like an answer. I quickly became comfortable with the idea, and I felt that the disease explained my personality, childhood, and entire life. Of course, by that time, I had changed a lot since I was a child. My mom explained that she thought I mostly grew out of the disease - that, rarely, children even grow out of autism, and that growing out of Asperger's wasn't particularly shocking.
Armed with the new understanding of who I was, I set out on the social journey known as highschool. Of course, I hadn't changed entirely. I became sensitive to change and to the unknown, and prone to long periods of Adjustment Depression; I still had temper tantrums, as if I was a baby, overwhelmed by things I didn't understand. I remained obsessive, reading about things or fixating on ideas, and would go on rants about them, unable to tell that others weren't interested. I struggled with non-verbal communication, and my mom would often have to point out what was going on, when I simply couldn't know. Mostly, I struggled with social interaction. A lot of it, I blamed on what remained of the disease: difficulty for non-verbal communication, the constant need for verbal feedback to know that people cared about me or the things I was saying. A lot of it, though, I blamed on what the disease did to my childhood. You see, it's when we're young that we learn about people, that we learn what it means to make friends and to love and to care. It's when we're young that we're socialized by our peers, that we become who we'll always be. I grew into myself intellectually, physically, mentally, emotionally as a child. But I never grew into the world socially, and I never learned all those things that now seem like common-sense. Yes, I don't have common sense.
I'd go through stages in highschool, first feeling proud of the independence and non-conformity and maturity I had achieved. Then, I was overcome by the challenge of learning how to make and stay friends. After a while, as I succeeded in some respects but not in others, I grew sad, upset that I couldn't understand others, certain that I would always be lonely.
Highschool was easier than college is. In that social bubble, I could act a role, any role I wanted, and people would accept me as such. College is more difficult. Outside the bubble, people are truly themselves. They're older, more mature, and I simply don't feel like I can keep up. Friendships are closer, more intimate, but based less on day-to-day interaction and superfuntime and more on overcoming life's plentiful challenges and the occasional adult relationship.
And I feel lonely. And I feel scared. And I feel young. And I feel incapable of knowing what's going on, incapable of being close to others. I'm afraid I'll never have friends, though I try. And, if I can't make friends, how can I ever care for someone romantically? I am craving a deeper connection, that I just can't seem to find.
09 December 2009
Cigar Smoke
"It rolls, it turns, it flows. Inside my mouth, little bits slipping into my lungs. My body relaxes. They call it a buzz, but that's such a sad word. A buzz is more like a trip than a high. You forget who you are, you release all your pain, and it flows out of your mouth, hidden deep inside the soft smoke. It's like a bed, or maybe a bit of Heaven. When you inhale Heaven, it goes straight into your soul. Perfection, pure spirit. I wish it never ended. I wish I could taste you forever, but it is time. Listen to it sing before the melody fades away. Goodbye, Heaven."
-- from my journal 01/19/08
In this weather, all I want to do is warm up with a cigar.
05 December 2009
Omegle
Omegle.com is a website where you can talk to strangers. I really enjoyed this conversation.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi
You: hi.
Stranger: whats up
You: Not too much, enjoying abstinence, you?
Stranger: same
Stranger: :)
You: PARTY :P
Stranger: woo hoo
You: I love to dance.
Stranger: i love to not have sex
You: I enjoy that, as well.
You: Let's not have sex together!
Stranger: yeah
Stranger: lets not fuck eachother until we cant stand
Stranger: and stimulate eachother beyond measurable bounds
You: Let's gasp as we don't touch each other,
You: and moan without a climax.
Stranger: breath heavily down each others necks as we do nothing but just that
You: Roll around between the sheets fully clothed.
Stranger: buy condoms for no reason
You: And blow them up into balloons!
Stranger: yeah!
Stranger: oh god im so turned off right now
You: Yes, I've never been dryer.
Stranger: im as limp as a soggy news paper
You: Let's not have sex on tape.
Stranger: lets not have sex while in the shower
You: Let's not have sex in the hot tub.
Stranger: ok.'
You: I really love not having sex on the bathroom floor, though.
Stranger: i think sex is amazing.
You: I actually enjoy it, too.
Stranger: i love sex in the shower and the bed and the floor and up against a wall
You: I love sex in the car and in public and with multiple people.
You: Well, thanks for a wonderful conversation, stranger, but I gotta go eat dinner.
You: Bye!
Stranger: bye bye
You have disconnected.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi
You: hi.
Stranger: whats up
You: Not too much, enjoying abstinence, you?
Stranger: same
Stranger: :)
You: PARTY :P
Stranger: woo hoo
You: I love to dance.
Stranger: i love to not have sex
You: I enjoy that, as well.
You: Let's not have sex together!
Stranger: yeah
Stranger: lets not fuck eachother until we cant stand
Stranger: and stimulate eachother beyond measurable bounds
You: Let's gasp as we don't touch each other,
You: and moan without a climax.
Stranger: breath heavily down each others necks as we do nothing but just that
You: Roll around between the sheets fully clothed.
Stranger: buy condoms for no reason
You: And blow them up into balloons!
Stranger: yeah!
Stranger: oh god im so turned off right now
You: Yes, I've never been dryer.
Stranger: im as limp as a soggy news paper
You: Let's not have sex on tape.
Stranger: lets not have sex while in the shower
You: Let's not have sex in the hot tub.
Stranger: ok.'
You: I really love not having sex on the bathroom floor, though.
Stranger: i think sex is amazing.
You: I actually enjoy it, too.
Stranger: i love sex in the shower and the bed and the floor and up against a wall
You: I love sex in the car and in public and with multiple people.
You: Well, thanks for a wonderful conversation, stranger, but I gotta go eat dinner.
You: Bye!
Stranger: bye bye
You have disconnected.
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