...

It's been super difficult to think lately. I feel so muddled; so confused. There's so much going on, in general, in every single way. Besides the stress and time constraints of my day job, I have college to worry about - a college career I haven't even begun to think about, or register for. I made it into my college of choice by the skin of my teeth, and now I can't bring myself to face the reality of actually having to go back to higher education again.

And so it's 5:08am, and I'm watching Nocturnal Animals, and I'm thinking about everything that I can't do, that I need to do. I've wanted to take a gap year since I was put into dual enrollment as a senior in highschool. I've needed a gap year. I've never gotten a break though. And every semester I feel a little more fall through the cracks of my life - I forgot to return rental textbooks this semester. I owe something around $300 now.

I can't ask for a gap year. It would be a disappointment, a let-down, I would be a waste of an investment, as I've been told before. So what? Do I push myself until I break? Because I have no choice? Because larger machinations in my life control me and move me without purpose?

I don't know. I don't know.

It's not just school; it's relationships too. For five long years I was in a relationship that taught me I was a tool and something to be useful, not seen, not heard. Part of me enjoyed it. There's something simple in being loved for your usefullness, as long as you never get tired of being used.
There's something simple in the obedience of knowing exactly what will come of an argument, of a disagreement. No matter how many times she spoke to me on the same subject, it always came down to one thing, and one thing only: she would not change, because she enjoyed the pain of being where she was, and using me as an object to comfort herself.

I'm experiencing something new now. I'm not a tool anymore, or an object, or something to be broken and tamed and beaten to conform and comfort. He tells me that it's odd that the bar is "so low" and I can hear it in his voice that there's something of concern and a little bit more of perhaps something akin to pain? Pain that it's so easy, or pain that all I want is to be treated like a person?
I don't think I really have to want that anymore, or seek it out like a desire. Freely given and freely obtained now, and I'm still not used to it. How odd it is to hear him ask what I want and to know he cares about the answer! How soothing it is to ask him, and know he's being honest with me; telling me everything on his mind. He welcomes me into his space and cares. I fall asleep in his arms, in his car, on his living room couch, and I'm not afraid. I don't know what it is about him - that's a lie. I do know. There's just not a word for it, I don't think.

I'll keep trying to find one though.