I believe I cared for my cousin, before I cared for another man. It is a sick kind of programming. With each passing generation, it becomes more a part of the makeup, so that it is almost impossible to tear apart from the pieces worth conserving, and building upon. I justify giving my lips over to him by saying that growing up far from one another made it so that I saw a stranger, and not a family member. When things are done in the dark, hidden from plain view, it is because they are recognized as crimes.
Jaime is handsome, and that was enough for me to act in lust. There is nothing to be respected anymore. Innocence was ruined before it was understood. I will see him once more in June, and I do not know if I can answer for myself. My sanity is fragile these days. The mind is just a mirror of Hell. In my attempts to turn it around, I have begun to explore Buddhism. I know it sounds silly, and it feels just the same. If it were up to me – and according to free will, it possibly is, if I choose – I would let it all fall around me. Yet, part of me believes I owe it to someone, perhaps a person I have yet to meet, to become better than I currently am.
Everything I can put into words sounds so utterly ridiculous.
I think about love often, because it’s impossible to avoid being fixated on what is not present in my life. Since I was a child, I felt a deep affection for everyone around me. The pain came when I understood that, it was difficult for me to express it. Not because the correct words could not be found, but because I felt I would be rejected, or mocked. Even if that were not the case, I doubted I could be loved in return, with the intensity with which I loved.
Richard left, or I left Richard. Either way, he is gone. That is proof enough that romance was made to turn on me.
I have managed to sleep some. It has been a few hours since I last wrote on these pages. My attachment to recording my thoughts has grown to such an extent, that a few hours seems an eternity.
Six in the morning. Cloudy and cold. I am nervous, which leads me to consider taking a walk to burn away the excess energy. But should I panic out there in the world, then I will collapse into a puddle that collects outside, find myself absorbed into it, disappearing forever.
I miss the sun, and although I mostly ignore it when it proudly displays itself, I will justify it by saying that it is the way I was raised. Careless, inconsiderate, and with eyes to the past. And when the sun finally comes out, I will complain about it, just as expected.