082716

[prismaticbleed]

I'm using food as a replacement for self-love and human connection.

I'm looking through "pascalcampion"'s gallery on dA and it's awfully heartbreaking because everything is so sweet and domestic and human and simple, and I don't know what that feels like, but I want it so badly.
stuff like this, and this, and this... and this, and THIS,
if I had that I probably wouldn't be abusing myself constantly out of sheer despair.
yes I have God. yes, God is all I need.
maybe that's my sacrifice. learning to live with that void, that ache, and filling it with faith alone.


I think that's why I can't get over the disaster of slc.
waiting for three solid years to finally have that dream life, and seeing it actively crumble in front of me. finally getting human company, finally getting a little place to live, and then finding that not only was I terribly sick in the head, but the people I lived with didn't want me anymore. they had each other and that was enough. and that was fine. I just wish I had never hoped so stupidly for anything different. for a wholeness of three.
it wasn't meant to be. and that's fine too. I have moved on. we've forgotten them essentially, with no hard feelings. they're just lovely people who exist only in a distant alien fog of the past now. they are free now. and that is fine.

but now how do we start over, in this blank slate of square one, again?

slc felt like this. beauty around and safe places to stay and warmth inside and knowing i should be totally happy, i should be content, and on the surface i truly am; but every night i looked out at the night and i wanted to weep, feeling something is missing, something important is missing,


and yet at the same time I want to be alone.
like this, and this, and this. and these two especially.
but... "alone" is synonymous with "complete," because to be alone we have to be inside;
to be alone, we have to be we,
WE have to be,

I'm listening to eric whitacre and it fills me with such deep joy. that feeling of christmas, of warm light inside and snow outside and lit-up trees, of just lying there in the faint chill, voices in chorus like starlight in my ears. just like that. alone.
but you have to live entirely inside for that.

sometimes I have to go outside. we need to eat. we need to leave the house. and when we do, that's when the crippling feeling of where is my connection to humanity kicks me in the chest.
like… those domestic pictures, don't feel right? I love the warmth, but I don't know if I could be that close to someone, in that sense, here? at least not me. maybe someone else in here.


this feels like headspace, notably those old days with cz, and...

maybe that's the missing piece of both. maybe that's the companionship, and the spirituality. alone and together.
and isn't that a punch to the chest, too.

god. forgive me. i know exactly what i need. i already have it.
i have to stop being so damned afraid of it.

why?
when did that happen? why did it happen?

i suppose that's the real root we have to unearth here.