I am bitterly disappointed in the culture of the school that I work in. I am in trouble yet again. It is true I have been distracted, I have been too focused on my unhappiness here and my frustration at working for an enviroment that does not support me to notice that I should take more care with what is going on with my work life. But I do not live for the job. I have this job so that I may live. Therefore, I make mistakes. But those mistakes have called me out yet again.
And last night I stood in my kitchen, a knife in my hand, pressed up against my wrist, I slid it across my delicate skin, my hands shaking so violently trying to maintain my iron-will control over myself. But I wanted to open my veins and let the blood flow out hoping that all the hurt would flow out with it. There is too much hurt here inside. The mask I wear for the world outside is always one of sunny smiles and soft deceitful wiles but deep down I scream, I scream silently a mouth gaping open in horror and no one hears the screams because I won't let them out. Like my love that I've buried under a sheet of ice.
And all these things that have happened to me have made me go numb. I feel nothing anymore. My ex-lover appeared in my life again last week after nine months of being apart. We were together again, our bodies familiar with the movements, our faces one above the other, smiling empty smiles. He has long dark hair. Eyes like blue marbles. A full sensuous mouth. A desire that comes to the surface for a few minutes. My body lying on a bed and I'm above it watching it all detached. My body is touched, penetrated, squeezed, kissed and left exactly as it was found. No marks. No evidence that he was ever there. Not even a strand of his long dark hair.
I haven't called him nor has he called me. We could drift apart again for another nine months or nine years and it would not matter to me. I do not love him. I do not love the man who loves me that lives in Austin. I do not love the man I work with, my friend, also my ex-lover, that I see everyday, that I talk to everyday. I do not love the man my heart does not allow to penetrate my sheet of ice. I care for them all. And I always will. But I do not love them.
This job will end soon and I will be cast out into the world. My faith must remain strong because I suspect that the crisis isn't over yet.
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