Untie (Lyrics without music)

(The thought process of a chronic...hmmm...home-wrecker? Knot-untier, anyway.  
I know because I used to do this. Regularly. Why no one ever shot me in my youth is mysterious to me. 
No complaints about not being murdered; just marveling at the luck. It's karma, though, 
that I should be where I am now. And it's Russian of me that I should laugh at the Karma 
I see another wracking up. One day I'll be kinder. Or so I keep telling myself.)

Tell her what she needs to hear

What she needs to hear

Listen when she talks and you’ll hear

What she needs to hear

Do they all say he’s bad, and it hurts her?

Tell her it’s not his fault or hers

Do they say he needs sympathy from her?

Tell her he’s bad for her

She’ll think you her shining knight

And you can tell yourself your plot

Was all good and right

When you‘ve untied their knot

Let her know the last one hurt you

Let her see the vulnerability in you

Let her see the strength she gives you

And watch you become a stronger you

Tell her how special you find her

Tell her how magical you find her

Tell her how much you treasure

All the stolen time with her

She’ll think you her shining knight

And you can tell yourself your plot

Was all good and right

When you‘ve untied their knot

Never tell her to leave him

Or suggest she doesn’t need him

Or hint she’d be better without him

Just be more fun than him

When she thinks about all the work

To fix what she has with that jerk

Compared to your entertaining quirks

She won’t think it worth the work

She’ll think you her shining knight

And you can tell yourself your plot

Was all good and right

When you've untied their knot

That they would have ended anyway

That it was going that way all along

That it doesn’t matter what he has to say

That you didn’t do anything wrong

You’ve got to let her think

It was her idea

You always let her think

It was her idea

After you’ve won her

You can never let up

On the praising of her

Or you might slip up

Show the sad little flaw

You know is in you

And you know if she saw

She wouldn’t be with you

Because somewhere in your mind

You know that you untied those two

Because you were too scared to find

Someone unattached and new

Because you know you can’t impress

Someone who’s heart is whole

And not in distress

Because you my friend are a hole

Tell me how it feels when it dawns on you

That you started when she was with another

And that it could just as easily happen to you

When, bored with you,

she starts talking to

another…

Anniversary Thought 5

It may have only been a short time,

but then our world became all horror for a time;

every 3 days, for weeks:

burglary AND kidney stones, same day. My guitar stolen;

unexplained food allergies;

Alex, being untreated;

Moving from one apartment to another;

Her mother, who hated white people, including Heather to a large extent, for not being brown enough to know real prejudice;

There was such pain, and stress, and it festered,

and the helpless feeling brought back the feelings of 

PTSD

from childhood shit,

and that was the beginning of the Major Depressive Episode that lasted the rest of our time together.

At first I’d try to talk to her about it, because I'd figured out the problem, that the PTSD had flared up.

She thought the PTSD was new, from the shit that we’d just been through,

and, because she’d been through worse,

treated me ever after as if I’d been

a flake.

She never bothered to ask for clarification,

just made a thoughtless,

unkind assumption

and ran with it.

For as awful as I was for 4 ½ years,

when I had gone to her for help,

finally needing her to take care of me,

she punished me,

in silence,

in snippy answers (get a fuckin’ happy pill)

and a disingenuousness that never ended.

It was only as we were splitting,

actually moving to different addresses

that she got clarification

and I watched her face fall as she made the realization;

she knew then that none of this ever

had to happen.

We hurt each other for years,

horribly,

constantly,

worst of all

NEEDLESSLY.

Anniversary Thought 4

I screamed at her.
I was a monster in so many regards.
I hadn't felt like I actually mattered to her
in
years.

No matter what asked for
be it space for a few days
or that she not wear a particular outfit
to one of my few shows
or a thousand different little things
she could not give me these things.

It was like she had to make herself
more important to me
than my own needs.
Like she wanted me
to want her around
more than I needed
certain things that defined
the edges of me.

After saying "I need..."
and getting the reply
"Well, how about..."
too many times
I felt under attack,
and reacted thus.

Anniversary Thought 3

She depended on someone
in the depths of an obvious
Major
Depression
to reflect her best aspects back to her,
to give her a sense of self-worth.

And I couldn’t.
I couldn’t see myself,
let alone her.

She’s now doing things she enjoys,
things she’d given up doing before I moved in,
but acts like she gave them up because of me.
In reality,
before the depression began,
I encouraged her to do things for her,
trying to get her to stop sacrificing
absolutely everything for everyone.

But she wouldn’t.

She divided herself up among so many people
that everyone got only a tiny portion,
and she
none at all.

And to be honest
I hated her for it.

Because no matter how little of her was left
she wouldn’t let me give back.
She turned bitter when I offered to help,
yet continued trying to take care of me
when I didn’t want a care-taker
but a partner.

After too many thoughtless refusals
I stopped offering.

Anniversary Thought 2

We were in the depths of the poison that we became,
but didn’t know why at that time.

She still prefers to think our destruction something inevitable,
or,
if there were choices that destroyed us,
they were mine.

If it was inevitable then it can all just be thrown away:
“it wasn’t meant to be”;
If I chose
then it wasn’t her fault
at all.

Either way
it makes it okay for her to
have moved on
before we’d really ever talked
about what was wrong.

Anniversary Thought 1

My anniversary is tomorrow. 

Our anniversary is tomorrow.

Two years ago we were married.

I can’t look at the picture.

I can remember what I felt then

without seeing the look on my face:

That, for all the sickness between us,

in spite of being motivated to say

“I do”

by a need to give Alex some legal protection

from his father,

I realized as I held her afterwards

that I loved her

and that I had meant all the ‘forever’ words

I had just spoken.

It’s in my face in the picture,

and that’s why

I can’t look.

Litany (lyrics without music)

She congratulates

herself on new love,

feeling safe

in control for once

She thinks the fates

sent him from above

to keep her safe

in control for once

Her litany

I’m happy

finally

why don’t you

believe me?

Now she insulates

herself from her past

she’s living now

and hurting no more

He’s so calm, it’s great

so unlike her last

but she’s here now

and dwelling no more

Her litany

I’m happy

finally

why don’t you

believe me?

Her friends say it’s rebound

but she swears it’s real

they don’t get she’s found

the way she wants to feel

She doesn’t get crazy with him

and he doesn’t blow up at her,

she feels good enough for him

and he feels lucky to have her

She tries not to think about

the ways he reminds her

of the man who made her doubt

Everything inside her

She tries to not see

the similarities

The traits the two men share

There can’t really be

such familiarity

that would be so unfair

But Now writes too

though not as well as Then

and Now makes music

but with less passion than Then

Now's safe, she won't melt

or scream for him like Then

yet she never questions

that she compares the two men.

Her litany

I’m happy

finally

why don’t you

believe me?

A trait of people with attachment problems

They will attempt to destroy any chance they have with the person they actually love by:

• Taking up with someone they don't love, in order to wound the one they do. This is to make themselves unattractive to the one they love, and drive them away.
• Attempting to convince the one they love to move on. This is done to hurt themselves, because if the one they love hurts them (rejection, jealousy) it can be justification for other inappropriate behaviors.

All of this is done as an attempt to control what's perceived as an inevitable disaster: The One They Love Leaving Because They Themselves Are Unworthy Of Love. If it's inevitable then forcing it to happen earlier is a means of controlling it.

People with attachment problems are almost always control freaks, because at some early age they were confronted with a lack of control over their lives, and it terrified them, usually some type of abuse at the hands of a parent, or other adult in charge. As soon as they were able to control anything they did so, rather than risk that feeling of helplessness again.

Therefore, rather than try to control themselves to prevent the disaster they hasten it; no one could possibly love them, so all else is pointless. Lets get it over with, and hurt them so much they know better than to ever come back. (And hurt me again.)

Sadly, many never realize this pattern, and push away the one they love in favor of people who don't matter as much, or whom they can control. It's safer, less of a gamble.

And cruel, empty, pathetic, and, worst of all, needless.

Even with Time.

One of the most upsetting truths of all time
is the fact that you can love someone totally,
and not be able to stand them at all.

           

And you must let these two contradictory emotions exist
in their own amounts,
in your head/heart,
because trying to make one
overtake the other
will just break you.

       

Love can’t be helped.
You have no say in that.

          

You don’t have to spend time
with someone who only does things
that upset you, though.

       

Sometimes they do things that hurt them directly,
and you only by watching.
You can’t change them,
so you leave them.

        

Do you love them less? No.

           

Not even with time.

             

Sometimes their self-injury hurts others,
and you know it, even without being there.
Because you love them, so know them,
and know what they were getting up to when you left.

      

And all you can do is be glad you’re not there,
because you can’t change them.

     

Do you love them less? No.

          

Not even with time.

        

And, though it starts as a runner-on-the-blocks reflex,
poised and ready for the gun,
waiting for them to say “Help me” drags on,
until you find yourself living life,
and looking forward to other people,
and no longer thinking about running that race.

           

But sometimes they do call,
and sometimes the “help me” is real,
and so full of “I have no more answers”,
and “I don’t want this anymore”,
that though you stopped believing the gun would ever go off
you are off and running.

             

Sometimes, though, the “help me” is full of “Tell me I’m right”
and “Make me feel like I matter”
and “If you cry I must be real”.

But if they call you have to answer, and find out which it is.

           

Because you love them.

                  

Even after years.

It couldn’t be ‘elped (An almost true story from before I lost my religion)

It couldn’t be ‘elped

(An almost true story)

(In Manchester England there are 2 major teams- the Mighty United, and the Heathen Manchester City. Read this piece is in an approximation of a Mancunian accent, ie the housekeeper from Frasier.)

It couldn’t be ‘elped, yeah?

I mean it ‘ad been real,

& more than magic

but she moved, right?

It couldn’t be ‘elped. Yeah?

And she pick me up

On Christmas Day

For a Graveyard Walk,

Too right, like.

And it ‘ad all changed

With ‘er all distracted

& distant, like.

& Still out of reflex

I wanted to grab on to ‘er

Wrap round ‘er

Never let go of ‘er;

The greater the treasure

The greater the greed,

Like.

& I thought about ‘ow it started, like;

She picked me, yeah?

She

Picked

Me.

I’d come to accept that a

Limping, unemployed, alcoholic with Tourette Syndrome

Is not considered a prize by most women, yeah?

But this young woman

‘oo turned all the ‘eads,

‘oo could ‘ave anyone she wanted,

The most beautiful, magical, talented

Creature I ever ‘ad me ‘ands on

Picked

Me.

So it couldn’t be ‘elped, yeah?

Like I’s sayin’

It wa’ Christmas, like.

& I looked at ‘er

& somethin’ about ‘er said over, like.

And I  tried to understand it

But I was at a loss, like.

So I just looked down

At me scarf

In the colors of the Mighty Man United.

Then I knew, right?

I looked at ‘er

And she wa’ dressed in the colors of Manchester City, like.

Me feelin’s just bloody well died, right?

It couldn’t be ‘elped, yeah?

Chris Walters, Aught Five

Flume.

A bit from a Facebook chat:

 

Him-

How are you holding up?

           

Your comment history on here is like a log flume

UP UP uP UP UP and Down....splash

                      
Wet for all the wrong reasons.

When was the last time you actually went on a Log Flume?

I think i was like 10

                               

Me-

                  

Last summer.

            

6 Flags, with the Brocatos.

And Alex.

Pardon me. I have to go scream now.


I realized today how precarious my good moods are. They are like thick planks placed loosely across a hole in the floor of my emotional state; they're made of solid stuff, just not solidly in place. Any misstep can move them, dropping I, and anything I'm carrying into an abyss. 

The chat convo cited above reminded me of being an active part of my family, and really just finished me off like a club to the head of a fish in the boat.
      
It was a nice day, laughing, having good times. Looking at an array of beautiful women (shapely figures in yoga pants, and no pretensions; THANK YOU GODS).
      
Then, talking about sex with a beautiful lady friend, the planks were kicked away. I was already...primed, and thinking about the act, and seeing delightful examples of potential partners in every direction...
 
she was talking about someone else not waking up during the act, and how she would definitely have done...
 
And I flashed to being with my Wife, and all the times...


And then it wasn't just the act that mattered, 
      
but the whole thing, 
the closeness, 
and the desperate feeling that 
there just weren't enough ways to touch her
 
that here was home, and 
Why
I
Was.


I remembered it all, and began to dissociate from reality. I had to bite myself to keep from screaming, or crying. It hasn't hit that hard in a while, and I wasn't able to recover from it like I did when it was all the time. 
 
I'm wreckage again. And annoyed by it.


I don't want to want to be a good person. I want to just seek relief. I want to go say whatever some little hotling would need to hear to let me hide inside her for a while. I want to NOT want my wife, and to think about...
  
I want to move on.

No...  
 
I want to want to move on, I don't actually want to move on. 
                
No. I just want it not to hurt.
                  
What I want, more than anything, is for her to want to fix us as badly as I do.
             
That's all. I don't want to be with anyone else. I don't want to heal, and find someone new. I can take delight in the company of someone else, but not as more than friends, not if the planks get kicked out so easily.


I hurt a lot. I hate this feeling. I want to be able to forget, but I can't. I want someone to hit the switches in my neck for a while, and just shut me off.
 
I want to not hurt. 

She told me she drove by on the full moon, to see if I was up, with a suggestion of...

How am I not to feel like I'm fucked with?