Category Archives: journal

Sleepwalking

I wrote this for a Wank Wednesday prompt or a Fuck Me Friday thing last year (document is dated Friday 12th August 2011), but I could bring myself to post it because it wasn’t fiction. I was scared of what it meant. I’m not scared any more.

~~~

I never realised I was asleep until you woke me.

Perhaps I had been drifting for a long time. Perhaps it was mere moments. You found me in a place where I was nothing. I was not feeling, not doing, perhaps not even living. I was just there, and then you came and took my hand and whisked me away and my eyes opened and suddenly there was a world, where before there had not been anything.

I was a sleepwalker. I was just filling space, following patterns and plans that I was barely even aware of. I did not see. I did not know where or what or why. I was a leaf being tossed about by the breeze, going here and there without control, without purpose. That was before you.

You awoke things in me that I had never known before. Some of them were things I think I had dreamed, but not really expected could be real. Some of them were entirely new things, beyond my imagination or my experience. You led me through them all, images and sounds and emotions that flew past at immeasurable speed. You filled me and stretched me and I began to change into something new, into something real.

At first I was terrified. I did not understand. I was scared of what I was becoming, scared of the things that you were showing me and the things that you were making me feel. I was scared of me and the changes I was beginning to see. I was no longer content just to be; I needed to live or there was no point. I did things for me because I wanted to. I was not controlled by someone else’s rules or desires. I was free to be what I wanted, to do what I wanted, to love and fuck and live by my own predisposition, not the whims of another.

I don’t really know who you are. I don’t know if you planned to wake me, or if you stumbled on me by chance. I don’t know if you freed me because of me, or if I was merely a side effect of the ease with which you flowed through life, not a leaf but the breeze itself, buffeting and guiding and caressing everything in your path. I don’t think I can ever repay you for what you did except by breathing each breath as a tribute to you.

Thank you.

Never So Deeply Entrenched

I wrote this on Monday about last weekend and I feel the need to post it now:

This weekend – starting from Thursday, really – has been about rediscovering myself. I cried a lot on Thursday night. I was so exhausted I couldn’t help it. It was just so damn long since we’ve had the time to be us that I had forgotten what it felt like. I looked back over the past few months – the weekends that I have spent seething and physically unable to speak to him because the sheer awfulness of the situation means I physically can’t breathe. The days that I spend constantly looking at my phone to see if he’s messaged me. The black hole that happens when he finishes work and I know that he can’t talk to me any more because she will be in the way. The nights lately that I have spent cutting myself because I don’t understand what’s going on or who I am or why I feel so bad.

And I realised that I have stopped looking forward. It has been so difficult just to live from one end of the day to the other that I do not have the energy left to remember why I am doing it. When he was lying there in my arms I thought about how much different life will be when he is free from this. That I will be able to spend my weekends with him, not wishing that he could be free to text me. That when he holds me in his arms I don’t have to cling to him because I don’t know when the next time will be. I don’t have to cry when he leaves because I hate knowing what he’s going home to. And in the distant future, I can imagine not having to leave at all. When I say goodbye to him it will be until later, not until next week. I won’t have to think about the nights I spend without him because there won’t be nights that I spend without him.

I’m reminding myself about this now because it took less than a week to get so mired down in all the crap that we’re involved in that I lost sight of it again already. I am lying awake feeling like I shouldn’t want this future that makes us so happy because of the pain it will cause him to achieve it. I have spent all week selfishly pushing and pushing him because I cannot bear to live without him and only this afternoon has the enormity of his task really hit me. I should be more patient. I should accept that he’ll do it in his own time. I shouldn’t constantly expect him to have done something – anything – to sort stuff out because he is the one dealing with it, not me.

Except then I remember that it is not just my future I am selfish for. It is his. If I needed reminder that he needs to go through with this then I just have to remember how I felt watching him with Her when I met Her for the first time last year. Once I’d had a few days to process I wrote this email to Cefyn:

When you first said you were married, it was a shock, but lots of things made sense. Of course you’d be married, you’re such a wonderful, sweet guy that any woman would be lucky to have you. It took me a while to get my head around the bits of you that aren’t what I thought and I eventually realised that you haven’t changed, because you were completely you all along, and you’ve rarely told outright lies to protect your position, just omitted information when you’ve reminisced about stuff etc. That’s why I didn’t flip when you told me. In my head I knew that you being married doesn’t change anything between us.

That was step one. The next bombardment of questions was why you’d kept it a secret and why you hadn’t walked away if you were so unhappy. Combined with the way you talk about Her sometimes and the fact you’ve been together so long, and I really didn’t understand why you didn’t just work it out with her. I didn’t believe that I could really be so much better than Her that you’d pick me. I was afraid to hope that you’d pick me over her, because you’ve got so much history and it’d be so difficult to split that I expected you to realise that I wasn’t worth the effort. I thought I was going to be stuck in limbo forever while you kept me on the side to supplement your marriage. And if you’d said that’s how it’s going to be, I would have stuck it out while it lasted and it would have been good but it wouldn’t have been forever…

Meeting Her was a difficult experience. I think those were the longest 16 hours of my life for a very long time. She is nice enough, but the little jabs at the end of every other sentence grated on me. What was worse was seeing you – like there was a bit of you missing. There was a little bit of deadness about you and it terrified and upset me more than I thought possible. Still I didn’t understand why you didn’t just leave her or ask her not to pick on you like that. I don’t like you being a doormat. It doesn’t suit you. It’s taken me these last few days to realise that you genuinely don’t notice much of it, and that doesn’t reassure me much but I’m glad to know you take it better than I did.

Now I’m starting to see where I fit. This is probably going to come out all narcissistic or something, but I’m not perfect, just trying to make sense of stuff. I didn’t see that Irish stifled my ambition until my workmates started to ask me and I got embarrassed to talk about him. I thought there might be more to sex but I didn’t look for it until I started having graphic dreams about Little Man and ultimately embarked on my journey of awakening with you. I didn’t know that Irish and I didn’t really talk or have things to do together until I spent week after week being late for everything because we talk so flipping much. When I spoke about you very early on in our fling I said “I’m kinda gutted I didn’t meet you first,” and someone stopped me and said “that’s not what it’s about.” And back then, it wasn’t, but I realise now how much I meant those words. I was genuinely surprised that I had never realised before how much we have in common, how much you embody all the things I always wanted from a guy and had convinced myself that I couldn’t have.

I see now that you weren’t happy with Her and you weren’t looking for someone to take you away from her, just someone to help you live with her. I realise that even though it has taken you much longer than me to reach breaking point, your reasons are the same as mine – I left Irish not for you, but because you made me realise that I could never live with him knowing all the things that I’m missing. You’re starting to find the strength inside you to say that enough is enough and you’re finding it because I’ve already proved it possible. It just took time for you to get that far… I have faith that you’ll leave Her because you’ve changed – what wasn’t possible before is possible now. Whilever you hold onto the life that you have now, that spark that I see whenever I’m with you, you cannot live with how things are any more. You’ll need to remind me of that when I can’t bear to see you in pain and want you to forget about me so that things will be easier. And you need to remember that when you feel comfortable with how things are – it’s only temporary. I could cope with Irish when I was embroiled in it and then I fell apart whenever I went away and had to come back…

So you see, this is going to work. Because absolutely nothing has changed since I wrote that email. If anything, it is even more apparent that Cefyn and I cannot live without each other. The reality is even harder than we had both expected. But the prize has not changed. It is still just as incredible and just as rewarding as it always was. It’s just a little bit harder to see because there’s so much pain and so much stuff in the way before we get there.

The title of this post is only half finished. It should read “never so deeply entrenched that I cannot find a way to fix my eyes on the prize.” And I will. I’m going to hold it to my heart like my life depends on it.