IanCurtisWishlist
04-10-2006, 06:43 AM
This is something that I have written just recently. I'm not sure where i'm going with this, but it's fiction in the sense that it relates to my life, however it's been exaggerated and dramatized.
The idea here is to try to perfect my own style of writing. Hope it's entertaining for you all, to say the least. It's supposed to be overly-dramatic, to convey a sense of emotion.. you'll understand if you read it further.
Constructive criticism is welcome, but if your'e going to flame it, well--suck a dick in that case. And it's my material, if anyone steals it, see you in court. Enjoy!
====================
There are no words to describe the feelings I have learned to cope with. In one respect, I'm happy that things have worked out how they have. But when I think about the path she's taken, it gives me a sick feeling all throughout my stomach. I stop and ask myself what I have done, if there was anything that could have been done to stop... this. It's a tragedy; my own personal tragedy. I tell you, you think you know a person and they will fuck you over horribly and in every way possible--mentally, emotionally, financially, etc. The truth is that nobody believes in the institution of LOVE, let alone that of marriage. What a woman wants is, in my experience at least, a man with a nice car, a good job to support her, lots of matierial things and a man to support her habits .
No, it was not a lover that she was searching for, because she didn't want a partner--she wanted someone to do for her, she wanted someone to cry to because nobody else would listen. She was a poor grieving soul searching only for cathersis in the whole grand situation. So there was I, a person, with open arms and open heart, ready to take in this poor refugee. She was seeking refuge, not from any kind of war, but from her own emotional conflicts and feelings of uncertainty. It was, for her, the ideal thing to do in the moment. She had captured my heart and soul now, and it was going to be a long rough ride before "love" plays its course out.
I suppose it's because I'm too empathetic that these horrible things happen to me. The only thing I have ever wanted out of life, was a person to whom i could bring love and happyness. But alas, love is not something that comes pre-packaged in glossy cellaphane wrap, nor is it something to be taken lightly. Rather, love is cultivated throughout time, with patience and kindness and empathy. You start slowly, getting to know everything about this person. You take the time to ask "how was your day today?" You do little things to show this person that you care; you do these things to distinguish yourself, to let this person know that you are interested. You do these things to show this person that you are concerned, that you would listen to whatever was on her mind. That's precisely what I did. What a beautiful beginning it was..
I look back on our relationship and can now see where we went wrong. And as is the case with most breakups, I replay what has happened in my mind, over and over, as if it were some horrible and cruel movie from which there is no escape. I wake up with the pain in my mind and heart, go about my day with the hurtful memories playing over and over, in an obsessive-compulsive fashion, and thus i relive each moment fully and vivdly, each time losing a little more compassion--numbing myself to the pain and feelings of betrayal each and every time. And I can't help but feel entirely fucked most days.
I grit my teeth as the memories replay in my mind, over and over without end, without fail. without compassion. without remorse. Time now seems to lose it's meaning. I don't care if it's Sunday or Thursday because I still feel the same anyways. The same pain, the same feelings of regret, of knowing that I've lost the only person near and dear to me. I believe it is regret that makes me think about things so much. I guess i just don't know...
In one respect I feel pity for her, seeing where her life has taken her. I knew it would happen from the very beginning of our breakup. I knew where she was headed and there was nothing I could do to stop it. "If you love someone, set them free". It's too hard to set someone free when you can witness them ruining their life before your very eyes.
I planted the seeds of love, and had had hoped for something beautiful to blossom between us. What was sowed was something quite the opposite; something hateful and bitter. I wish I could do it all over again, to make it right; to end it, but to do it gently. I had shared with this person something that I had never shared with anybody before--my feelings and personality. You can ask yourself, "what is love?" Love is selflessness in my opinion. If you love a person, you will be truly selfless towards them. If you love a person then truly you will set them free, and then hang yourself when you're through.
The idea here is to try to perfect my own style of writing. Hope it's entertaining for you all, to say the least. It's supposed to be overly-dramatic, to convey a sense of emotion.. you'll understand if you read it further.
Constructive criticism is welcome, but if your'e going to flame it, well--suck a dick in that case. And it's my material, if anyone steals it, see you in court. Enjoy!
====================
There are no words to describe the feelings I have learned to cope with. In one respect, I'm happy that things have worked out how they have. But when I think about the path she's taken, it gives me a sick feeling all throughout my stomach. I stop and ask myself what I have done, if there was anything that could have been done to stop... this. It's a tragedy; my own personal tragedy. I tell you, you think you know a person and they will fuck you over horribly and in every way possible--mentally, emotionally, financially, etc. The truth is that nobody believes in the institution of LOVE, let alone that of marriage. What a woman wants is, in my experience at least, a man with a nice car, a good job to support her, lots of matierial things and a man to support her habits .
No, it was not a lover that she was searching for, because she didn't want a partner--she wanted someone to do for her, she wanted someone to cry to because nobody else would listen. She was a poor grieving soul searching only for cathersis in the whole grand situation. So there was I, a person, with open arms and open heart, ready to take in this poor refugee. She was seeking refuge, not from any kind of war, but from her own emotional conflicts and feelings of uncertainty. It was, for her, the ideal thing to do in the moment. She had captured my heart and soul now, and it was going to be a long rough ride before "love" plays its course out.
I suppose it's because I'm too empathetic that these horrible things happen to me. The only thing I have ever wanted out of life, was a person to whom i could bring love and happyness. But alas, love is not something that comes pre-packaged in glossy cellaphane wrap, nor is it something to be taken lightly. Rather, love is cultivated throughout time, with patience and kindness and empathy. You start slowly, getting to know everything about this person. You take the time to ask "how was your day today?" You do little things to show this person that you care; you do these things to distinguish yourself, to let this person know that you are interested. You do these things to show this person that you are concerned, that you would listen to whatever was on her mind. That's precisely what I did. What a beautiful beginning it was..
I look back on our relationship and can now see where we went wrong. And as is the case with most breakups, I replay what has happened in my mind, over and over, as if it were some horrible and cruel movie from which there is no escape. I wake up with the pain in my mind and heart, go about my day with the hurtful memories playing over and over, in an obsessive-compulsive fashion, and thus i relive each moment fully and vivdly, each time losing a little more compassion--numbing myself to the pain and feelings of betrayal each and every time. And I can't help but feel entirely fucked most days.
I grit my teeth as the memories replay in my mind, over and over without end, without fail. without compassion. without remorse. Time now seems to lose it's meaning. I don't care if it's Sunday or Thursday because I still feel the same anyways. The same pain, the same feelings of regret, of knowing that I've lost the only person near and dear to me. I believe it is regret that makes me think about things so much. I guess i just don't know...
In one respect I feel pity for her, seeing where her life has taken her. I knew it would happen from the very beginning of our breakup. I knew where she was headed and there was nothing I could do to stop it. "If you love someone, set them free". It's too hard to set someone free when you can witness them ruining their life before your very eyes.
I planted the seeds of love, and had had hoped for something beautiful to blossom between us. What was sowed was something quite the opposite; something hateful and bitter. I wish I could do it all over again, to make it right; to end it, but to do it gently. I had shared with this person something that I had never shared with anybody before--my feelings and personality. You can ask yourself, "what is love?" Love is selflessness in my opinion. If you love a person, you will be truly selfless towards them. If you love a person then truly you will set them free, and then hang yourself when you're through.