I spent my birthday at work yesterday, and I didn't even take a few minutes off early. That's the life of an IT guy for you.
Went home, loaded some stuff in the car (for the moving thang), and shot off to Taryn's place. She wanted me to spend some time with her on my birthday. We went out to this tiny restaurant, where they make some of the coolest pizzas. Very thin, but it's completely different to a regular pizza. Had a Lamb and mint pizza, have you ever heard of such a thing??
She gave me so many compliments, made me feel like a king of kings. Then Viincent stepped in again, and shattered me. The pain inside is so very big. I don't usually hurt when I'm around people, especially not around those I love. But I hurt in a very big way with her by my side. She noted that I became very quiet, and that my mind was elsewhere, but I don't think she noticed that I was hurting myself. She kept asking me if everything is okay, and I responded that it was. Which it was, except on my inside, where I was bleeding. But it's my problem, and I won't drag her into it, I refuse to.
After dinner, we returned to her place. And she walked into the room with some cake and candles. I haven't had a birthday cake with candles since I was a little child. The gesture meant so much to me! It was awesome.
And Vincent found a grip that I never allowed him before. He led me to believe that I'm making Taryn happy, and that I'm not allowed to do so. It destroyed me.
We made love at around 12 or 1am, and for a moment I felt good again. Then, during the afterglow, her ex phoned from the U.K. I nearly fell asleep while they talked, and my body was resting already. But Vincent wasn't. He was ripping me apart, slicing away.
This morning, I was very weak infront of her. I told her how badly I felt about myself, and she was visibly upset, with good reason. I know that Taryn loves me, and I know that she's sincere - You can see it in her eyes, the way that she reacts when she sees me, the way she kisses me.
But I hate myself so very much. Where I'm sitting at work, I am tearing myself in pieces, clawing away at my self respect, and lowering myself to dwell with the cockroaches. I know that this will cause me to be exceptionally good at work, and to show love to people that they did not experience before. All because I hurt, and I hide it by being extra perfect in all aspects.
Why is it that whenever I have someone that cares for me, I destroy myself? I don't understand this, and I never shall. I know that it's because of all the bullying that I went through in school. Especially Deidre that told me that I have good legs and a decent body, but my face fucks everything up. I will never forget that hurtful statement. She made me realise the truth. As did Antoinette in College, who made fun of me by asking me to go to the valentine's ball at college in 1996 - Just so she could embarrass me infront of everyone. I refused, thankfully. I don't think I would have survived that.
The only thing I'm good at is my job. And perhaps at drumming - But that's only because it is a way of venting my anger and pain. And work helps you to disconnect from your emotions. Perhaps I shall become a workaholic soon.
I also wrote a poem called "Goosebumps" on Taryn's PC on Sunday evening. That's when I started hurting, ever so slightly. I don't think she's caught on yet, but she's very succeptible to my heart and pain, and will figure it out very soon. And I shall be in trouble with her.
I'm scared of hurting her, I don't want to be her pain.
Random thought of the Day: Who did the talking man, the whip or the chain?
