Hell on the Heart

-
"Yeah she's heaven on the eyes
But boy she's hell on the heart..."

~from "Hell on the Heart" by Eric Church


I've grown tired of women. I've been officially a lesbian for roughly a dozen years and I'm done. I can't take it anymore. Women suck. I don't want to like them or love them anymore. I don't want to believe a word they say. I don't want to feel the softness of their skin or taste the gentleness of their kiss. I don't want to be tortured by the scent of their perfume or by the look in their eyes. I don't want them to choose someone other than me. And I most certainly do not want to watch them walk away. I've done too much of all that. I'm tired and frustrated and wildly out-of-sorts.

What I want is for them to leave me alone until they know what they want. Trust me, women don't have a fucking clue. They think they do and that's their problem. They think they have their baggage under control; they can do this. They want this... They want that... They're ready. Uh no... They aren't. Not even close. They have issues - they're insecure, afraid of abandonment, afraid of attachment, afraid of failure, afraid of success, afraid of love, afraid of loss, afraid of happiness, afraid of sadness, blah, blah, blah. None of it's any good and I'm sick of dealing with it all.

So, that said, I'm done. Me and my heart can't take another false start. So, I'm going to keep my distance, far from the scent of her perfume (because that kills me every time) and the touch of her hand. At least until I'm sure she's ready. I can't give up entirely. I love women too much. All I'm asking for is one - One who is secure enough in herself to know what she wants and brave enough to pursue it. The rest just need to stay the Hell away.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Biggest Fan

-
It comes for all of us. If we're lucky. Right now, I'm not sure I feel lucky, but I know in the days, weeks, months, and years to come, I will come to realize that I am. Or I was. My parents are elderly, eighty-four and ninety-two. From where I'm sitting at the moment - my mother's hospital room - it's doubtful that my mom will reach tomorrow, much less eighty-five, So here I sit. And write...while  my biggest fan lays a few feet away snoring like a freight train. Her snores mean she's still alive so rather than drowning them out with music, I listen, Intently. Because each one could be her last. It's the drugs - her pain was pretty severe - making her sleep so soundly. These same drugs, the ones that keep the pain at bay, may also hasten her death. Her decision. She's been kicking cancer's a** for the past seven years. My mom's no sissy; she can endure. But this isn't the cancer, the known quantity. This is an aneurysm, a ticking time bomb...
Read more

Ironic, Actually

-
A couple days ago, I posted my first ever vlog. It was  just me reading an old blog from December 2018 called, "Courage, Actually." I chose it specifically because it's about accepting life's challenge and fearlessly stepping outside your comfort zone. Making and posting a video of myself was a big step outside my personal comfort zone - in fact, I have long said it's something I would never do - so I felt the topic was timely and appropriate. Reception of the vlog among my Facebook friends and followers was immediately positive. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Courage for the win. I worry, though, that I have falsely painted myself as some courageous-comfort-zone-and-fear-defying crusader. In reality, that's just not me. Not these days...and I think it's time for me to come clean. It's kind of ironic, actually. And hard for me to admit. This might be the barest I have stripped myself in a long time. For the past few months, I have been mired in ...
Read more

Be That Person

-
 A friend texted me last night. Her almost twelve year old son is starting middle school today and she was more than a little stressed. I guess it's somewhat normal for parents to be nervous about such milestones in their children's lives. I mean sixth grade means a bigger school, perhaps switching classrooms, more complex homework assignments, etc, etc. I'm sure there's also some wistfulness about the whole thing. The "My baby's growing up" kinda thing. My friend's concerns last night (and again this morning) were far larger. You see, her son is different. He always has been. Not only is he on "the spectrum," he also has Tourettte's. And he's on the fringes of non-binary. Plus, he lives on the border of Texas and Arkansas in a place that is far from open-minded and falls just below marginally accepting. This is the land of conservative politics (ie Trump), gun rights, big religion, and the concomitant "family values" that i...
Read more