um, so...

inevitable--
i finally surrender.
love is not for me.

i know it's been a while since i've posted here. i really just, plain and simple, haven't cared enough to write anything. it's all negative, and i know the people who read this aren't gearing their lives for pain and sadness so i really haven't wanted to inundate my lovely readers with this crap. also, i've been thinking of nixing iGoddess and just returning to a plain, simple blog where i write about my life.

there is no Funk. pronoia was a vehicle i tried to operate to transport me to better and brighter places Within. well, it worked...until i tried to return to the real world where shit like that just doesn't work. i really am nothing but Something for other people to use, and i've finally just come to Accept it.

what's really sad is that i can't afford to break up with *m* because i can't pay for this apartment myself. his job doesn't start until the middle of next month (maybe), so i paid this month's rent and bills myself, and will pay next month's and most likely february's, too. it breaks me every month, but at least after he starts working, i'll be able to save half rent, so i have something to fall back on. right now, i have nothing.

ironically, my current encounter with anorexia is looking more and more financially reasonable. who can fucking eat when there's a.) no money, and b.) stress has me so flipping out that eating makes me sick? at least there's a benefit: my fat ass won't be so humiliating in another month or so. fuck.

boho mom made a request that i write a post just stating what's been going on lately. honestly, i don't have the endurance for that. let's just say that we can lump up everything that's been happening since just before he moved here, and add in intoxication every evening, plus refusal to eat (except sparingly), plus a complete and total return to where i was a year ago. i haven't burned, but i don't know if that's a good thing or not. the only thing that keeps me from burning is knowing that, whether or not i need to, i'd be so completely disappointed in myself that it would send me spiraling into such a dark place i'd be months coming out again.

he doesn't fit me. he doesn't fit me, and it's such a phenominal and astounding misfit that sometimes i'm too overwhelmed by the degree to really contemplate it for very long. i love to get to know myself, to think and learn and ask uncomfortable and challenging questions because i want To Know. his answer for all my questions is always the same: "i don't know." fights actually begin because i want to Know, and his "i don't know" is as much a placation as it is an avoidance, and i just can't respect someone who refuses to understand not only himself but the world around him.

he hasn't touched me, or instigated any intimacy since the middle of october. and when he did, i was simply a hole for him to jack off into. any concept, conversation, or exploration into the concept of Delena's Pleasure is met with offense, discomfort, and hostility. i'm sorry, but delena is Venus in Platforms, and i've been the embodiment of several men's fantasies. i'm Good. i let a person be free with his sexuality while reveling in my own. to be with someone who refuses to even consider the possibility of my sexuality is...anathema.

not to mention completely humiliating.

i had to invoke one of the first tenets of Witch-- personal responsibility-- before he'd even acknowledge the possibility of contributing to our problems. he told me that he doesn't feel he's done anything to warrant our current strife...meaning it's all me. all my fault. so, yeah, i just woke up one day and decided to revert to alcoholism again, to be depressed, to be swallowed in self-hatred and disgust, and feel unwanted and insignificant just for the pure fuck of it. yeah, i just woke up and felt like it for no reason.

i had to pull the religion card before he'd even consider the possibility of his part in this. and sure, for the last few days, he's been somewhat affectionate. he still hasn't answered a single question i've posed to him. all his answers are the same: "i don't know." i refuse to believe he's that obtuse, that he's that stupid and unaware. then again, if he really doesn't ever think about these things, he's really not the most spectacular fit for me, either.

even if he loves me in his own undemonstrative, diminutizing (is that a word???), taciturn, completely hidden and unspoken way. i have to demand a hug. i have to guilt him into showing me physical affection, and i still haven't been viewed as the sexual goddess i am.

and yet, when i asked him how he'd feel if i asked if i could see other people, he said that would suck. "why?" i said. "you have no physical claim on me, and you have only a whisper of an emotional one on me. why would it suck?"

it actually sparked another fight because he got so pissed i actually wanted an answer other than "i don't know."

and yet, i know myself. i'll put up with this until i wake up one day and realize i'm completely dead inside and all i can think of is a nice cup of foxglove tea. if i do kill myself, it'll be with foxglove. i just know it in my heart it'll be a painful, slow-acting poison. it's how i've lived my whole live, slowly dying by emotional poison. it'll be a fitting way to go, and i know it and accept it. i'm just so damn, fucking sick of hearing professions of love from men who only end up either abusing me, subjugating me, or shunning and neglecting me. i'm so damn sick of it.

and i want love so fucking badly it's actually pathetic and disgusting. i want a husband and children, happily living life, so that i can know in my soul that what i grew up with actually had meaning. otherwise i'm just a piece of extraneous shit that no one really has use for.

and, actually, i could Accept that truth, too, if i didn't want to be loved, just loved, so fucking badly. and it's pathetic, and i know it. fucking lovely.