The Thrill Of The Fear


He was concealing something last night.

When I called to ask what kind of coffee he would like, and he had to call back, he made a point to tell me why he missed my call.  Why?  When he is sneering man he doesn’t give a damn.  When he is guilty boy he says things, but they are lies and misdirections to put me off the real scent.  And when I spoke with him later, he was breathing as if he was in terror.  Even as he would put his arm on me and, when asked why, say that it made him happy.  He was deceiving the entire fifteen minutes we spoke.

He needs it, that fear.

Without it, life feels empty and hollow. 

It is all he knows, riding that edge of panic.  If it isn’t there, he creates it.  That is why he needs me.  Without me to play the role of the evil ball and chain in his private fantasy, there is not nearly enough fear to make the whores fun.  There isn’t a good enough reason to lie, or to conceal, or to hate.  He can project all his anger and angst and misogyny on someone like me.  The person who cares most about him in this world, and so will hurt the most if she knew.  And I am so used to someone who is tense and unhappy and running on narcissistic rationalizations and panic attacks, I don’t feel the discomfort in his presence that someone healthier would feel.  I don’t even notice the red flags because they feel so normal, just like his fear feels normal in his life.  So, our pathology plays out with his causing devastation to mine.

I wasn’t nearly as damaged then as I am now. 

He was more damaged than I could possibly imagine.

And he still feeds his damage.

Do I?

When I project, I almost always look back and ask analyze if I, too, have that flaw.  If so, is it one I can live with, or should I be more proactive in addressing it?  Am I judging someone else unfairly by my flaws, or is it proper that I avoid them because, yes, I may have that flaw as well, but there is a reason I dislike that flaw in me.  I will try to be better than that flaw.  Will the other person do the same?

I feel the pain.  I feel the sorrow.  Sometimes I feel that need to cry and find ways to make it happen.  I don’t think it is because I am addicted to the crying.  More that I have so much pain that needs out.  He stuffs his in then drugs it down with food and sex and lies and revenge.  He feels better about himself after beating up other people, but he is a coward and won’t do it out for all to see.  He is also afraid of himself.

Am I?

I am afraid of my magic.  I am afraid that if I had power I would misuse it, as he misused his power.  Do I choose such men to keep me from being the evil I am afraid I would be, so just as I am his emotions, he is my cruelty?  Maybe I need to reclaim my own cruelty, be cruel for myself and accept it, and let him the space to have his emotions.  I can try.  Head games I play on myself, but they are survival and not meant to be cruel but to be like a scary dance.  I don’t know if his head games are meant to be cruel, only for his own survival, but he chooses not to deal with or accept the evil consequences of his actions, and thereby makes it OK inside himself.

Have I?

I dreamt that I was making out with a sexy man.  But I made a point of kissing all over him when his brother was in line of site to see  it.  I had the hots for the brother.  I think I do that with him.  I ‘seduce’ gently the outer shell, trying to get the inner boyman to see, to wish, to want.  But he prefers his fantasy over real connection. 

If he says he wants something, than it is a lie. 

He says he wants peace.

He prefers his fear.

If he says he absolutely doesn’t want or do or understand how someone can do something, it is a lie.

He says he never wants to be that person again, to do those things again.

He prefers his lies to truth.

In the dream, there was a chamber with a man inside, the shell lover, and the brother was doing something cruel to him.  He was going to kill him in a tricky fashion.  But I had figured out how he was going to do it, and I went up to save the brother, but I knew that it was already too late.  The brother had been dead all along and there was no living man inside that box.  The deed had already been done.

All I could do was try to stop the explosion which was coming, diffuse the bomb before the brother could kill more people.

I don’t want to live in fear.  But I do live in fear because I fear caring about him anymore.  I fear how I will get out of this sane.  I fear that I will be weak.  I fear that I will never feel loved.  I fear that I will never be chosen.

Ah, the fantasy of the lonely, of the rejected.  To be the Chosen One.  To be the one no one can deny that they are special and everyone wants to be with them, at last.

I get how he feels about that, how so much of humanity feels that exact way, too, just never how he chooses to seek self value.

I am beautiful.  I am fun.  I am serious.  I am intense.  I am loving.  I am kind.  I am selfish.  I am well spoken.  I am an amazing writer.  I am graceful.  I am lazy.  I am filled with child like hope.  I am flaky.  I am intelligent.  I am very emotional.  I am very creative.  I am very depressed.  I am basically honest.  I am a good judge of character.  I am capable of overriding my instincts for my needs.  I am a good mother.  I am starving for love and attention.  I am a hard worker.  I am a greenwitch.  I am a sorceress.  I am high strung.  I am a muse.  I am an energy worker.  I ama finger of the Goddess’.  I am a a Jackie of all trades, master of none.  I am very introspective.  I am wonderful at synthesis.  I am opinionated.  I am mentally confident.  I am pushy.  I am very shy.  I am well educated.  I am damaged.  I am a shaman.  I am powerful in my magic.  I am a walker under many suns and within time.  I am a friend to brownies.  I am a teacher of life and knowledge.  I am learning every day.  I am an active skeptic.  I am gullible.  I am a sensual experience.  I am easily in love.  I am easy to love.  I am a lover of animals and nature.  I am a survivor.  I am a weak bodied woman.  I am an inspiration.  I am ahead of my time.  I am a procrastinator.  I am transformational.  I am in pain. I am a walker among the flowers and the bees.  I am open minded.  I am stubborn in my principles.  I am in transition.  I am a phoenix.  I am a being of light and love.

I am not afraid.

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