stuck in the 80s

as much as i love ST, as good as he is for me, even though he loves me so much. theres something still missing. theres something still vacant. theres something im still searching for from him.

i keep trying to wrack my brains for what it is. but i think its this feeling i get sometimes. that he doesnt truly accept all of me, only tolerates me.

when i told him i used to cut myself, he told me it didnt matter, he made me feel safe, but there was no acceptance of what it was.

its like hes so hellbent on ignoring our pasts and looking to the future that we’re stuck. im stuck.

when the love of ur life, the woman you want to marry, have children with, grow old with, has told you she used to cut herself, wouldnt you want to know everything? there was something about the lack of questions about my “shady” past which makes it harder for me to give all of me to him.

and maybe its the root of our minor problems.

we’re comfortable with each other. yes. very comfortable. but we dont explore each other any more. i dont learn new things any more. and its what i crave and need. and he wont let me. because hes jammed on this idea that the past should be totally forgotten. so im stuck. i cant move forward. i cant learn more and deeper and everything about him. there are physical aspects and more superficial and more obvious things that i am yet to understand and learn about. but those are the things that wont make me trust him more.

he keeps asking me or rather assuming and telling me that he doesnt think he makes me happy. but its not that. its like he assumes i know what hes thinking. and i dont. its like we’ve grown so comfortable with each other we’ve known each other for years. yet, we havent. and there are all those years i need to learn about.

i suppose its stuff i need to tease out of him. things i forget to ask. questions that will get him talking. naturally.

its so difficult though. because i imagine the best time to talk would be overnight. only he falls asleep like hes taken sleeping pills. and it pisses me off.

after we’ve done sex stuff, he falls asleep quicker than me. which makes no sense what so ever. simply because, it was me that had the orgasm. not him. and i end up craving this need for him to be close to me and talk to me. i want to be able to giggle with him and feel comfortable to talk. i want to be able to cry silently without it meaning im sad. just that memories still have that affect on me.

doesnt he have the desire to learn about me too? does he think that all ive told him is all there is to me? only, i volunteer information when i remember to talk about it.

hes often too quiet. even with me.

so my love we are stuck
like a music tape with crumpled ribbon.
why don’t you want to record any more?
through my rose-tinted ray-bans
i look at you, and all i can do is
wonder.