martian enough

it is hard to know what to say in these times. i am, dare i say it, lonely; terribly lonely. today after making love quite tenderly indeed, i said 'hey...i love you' to tom. 'i love you too' he said. and i said thank you afterward, which i regret. but i was grateful. 

i've realized that i can't possibly believe any declaration of love unless it is unceasing, tireless. i've realized that it is like rote learning. repeating lines over and over until they cannot be forgot. 

my martian is cross with me. i am cross with my martian. i love her. and yet she doesn't permit me to behave thus. when i punched tom, i was desperate for someone to love me enough, to say 'that was naughty' and so i thought, i should love my martian enough, to say, what you're doing is naughty'. she didnt think so.

i don't know what is enough really, it never is enough, and then it is too much.

tired/true of heart

thank goodness, for a moment all was lost. i am feeling new things with tom. obviously fear, neglect, lust, fear. since i punched him i have been petrified. of my self. it is all new now, it is all new from here. it is all new post rebirth. since i haven't the faintest what i could do, i haven' t the faintest what i am like.

we are still going to the island. i am petrified of that also. i was mopey today, i said take me to bed tom. i was crying. i said i want to feel close to you tom. he said it was the wrong reason, but i didnt think so. i took off all my clothes, and then he yelled at me. i started; mortified. quickly i scooped up my clothes and ran to the bathroom. he knocked, can you let me in. go away i said. he wouldnt let me leave. he's strange how he does that, snaps, and then quite literally fills with remorse. i suppose it means he has a temper too. at least we are both wild fires. it helps i suppose, wild fires, and tired, true of heart as dave eggers might say.

broke my camel's back

so i did it. i snapped. tom was too foreign, and i couldn't bare it, i hit him quite roughly, slapped him across the face quite hard, fell to the floor, kicking his legs. afterwards i couldn't believe it, had begged his forgiveness, i'm so terribly sorry, oh your face, your beautiful face, what happened i lost my mind... that sort of thing.

now he has gone, presumably to get dinner, but it has been a long time. perhaps he's doing a runner. but i'm in his home, so it seems unlikely. 

if i could only get better. if i could only try to trust myself, i'm desperately afraid of my memory. 

i finally did it, broke my camel's back. and i have never been so ashamed. 

love in love

he's taking me to an island. i feel fictional, a poof of a girl, a whisp of a thing. incidentally, i couldn't stand it if someone did me a character assassination. yet i assassinate all the while. tom. i assassinated him last night. i was lurid/hyper with grief. he doesn't want me around. it's heartbreaking, but i just had to know it, i asked him, don't you love me at all? i mean don't you ever look at me and think 'oo, i love her'? yes, he said. i said: tom, its possible i'm not in love with you either, but i do love you very much. i think if you love me at all you should tell me. the telling is imperative.

i love you. he whispered. i really do.

again; a poof of a girl, literally a whisp, literally a ghost. a moment of pure just heaven.
thank you so much i whispered. thank you so much. i kept saying it. thank you so much. and obviously, i love you too.