Years Later

We got into it lastnight. A culmination of all the little things slowly made it's way through and I lost it.

I want to say sorry but when I look inside I feel I dont have to.

For the record

People say time moves slower for the observer in no acceleration while time moves faster for the observer moving at a high acceleration.

This is true.

However, people have the mindset that this means time effects individuals differently. Example:
 An astronaut leaves his five year old daughter for a round trip in a spaceship traveling the speed of light. He comes back after a year long voyage to find his five year old daughter is now ten years old, while he himself is only 1 year older. This, I believe, is incorrect.

The experience of time on cells and molecules will be equivalent despite what our sense and  conception of time tells us. It is only the measurement of time that is changing. In example:
If you have a pair of bombs with a fuse that are exactly identical by the atom and are lit in exactly the same environments, they each will explode at the same exact universal *real*time. To each person recording, their records will have varying answers due to their references in space. The recorders will have drastically different answers but all are true. In the reference of the universe, which we can see through our thoughts, time will always be a constant linear measurement. . .

Last paragraph sloppy but I'm hungry.

Things have been great for a while.
I mean, I'm not really depressed right now even.

Just frustrated?

I think this disease will kill me. Sometimes it makes me happy.

Is that depressed? I'm not sure.

Draw has me up the wall sometimes.

She really makes me feel like I'm losing my mind and the thought of telling her how I honestly feel sounds so enticing.

She's sick.

We pulled up the hill toward the house I've lived in since I was 14. We walked in through the garage door kicking off our shoes next to the couch. She sat herself in the living room and began to lie down. As I began the laundry, I heard her cry from down the hall. I pressed on with my chore as I know her bouts all to well.

I explained the time needed before we were to leave as to give her a better picture. Her face wrinkled as she peered toward the floor. I pushed myself to hurry and suggested I wash my whites by hand in the tub upstairs. She did not stir. At the top few steps she began to weep
loudly.

"What's the matter?"

"I wanna go home." In a piercing cry.

"Okay, if you feel you can't wait." I spoke assuredly.

"Can you tell me how to get home?" Shrilling slowly but loudly enough to make my stomach tense.

My mind trembled in frustration. Why can't she just remember? You are a grown adult without any difficulties learning beside your own decisions. Her pain is overbearing, she cannot take on challenges well.

"Sure. Give me a second."

I let my clothes fall to the tub and ran the water. I savored my time to let my mind relax. I felt a blinding stress fill me. The water was warm, my fingers pushed to the base feeling the level rise. I've been gone to long, my heart feeling weighted.

Her face was red and tears streamed to her neck. I calmly explained to her the way home.

My laundry almost completed, she called.

"Where are you? It's almost been 2 hours." Every word waspishily filled with poison.

I carefully watched the machines. I stayed aside checking dutifully over the hour.

"That's how long it takes, I don't know what to tell you." Speaking first with guilt, ending with an unmeasured venom.

In between painful sobs she raised her tone "I can't sleep with you coming home. You are so loud and make every noise in the world when you come in. I just want to go to bed."

I'm sorry I forgot I'm only capable of walking alike a deliriously rabid bear up stairs and a sliding door. I'll make a note that I'm a serious piece of shit for having to do whats necessary to go to work in clean clothing that was only delayed to abide to your choosing of how we spend our day. Your fucking needs are incredibly selfish and make me wish I was dead.

I took a moment to respond.

"Well what do you want me to do, this is what it takes. I'll see you at home soon."

Sometimes

I just want to fucking get away from everyone.

I'm tired of deadlines.
I'm tired of people suggesting what I do.
I'm tired of people depending on me.
I'm tired of people asking why I make the decisions I do.
I'm tired of having to sacrifice pieces of my soul to get what I deserve.

Value

Just got out of my therapist's office.

Value.

To have value is to give worth.

Worth is determined by needs.

What is it that you need?

Do you need food?

Water?

Shelter?

Stimulation?

Friendship?

When you have value

In presence of others,

You are appraised.

You are utilized.

I ask myself why

Or how will it make me feel.

My mind draws blank,

I see the leaves rustling in wind.

The wind whispering,

Heat calming my skin.

Post-Pragmatic

Today I have school. I"m reluctant to go because I can't face the things I have to do. The stress is compiled because I have group mates to write a paper with me. I'm sorry. I feel I need to apologize to you. I've found this feeling in the past to be mirrored back to me. It was comforting.
-------
Sandra. I sacrifice so much for you. I cook for you, I buy your food, I help you get dressed, I brush your teeth, I help you up and down the stairs, I clean your room for you, I clean your dishes, I do a few of your chores, I sacrifice time with my friends, I sacrifice time I should spend at school, I sacrifice days I could work for extra money.

Sometimes when I want to be alone, you get upset. That makes me upset. I feel like saying "Come on don't do that to me." It's meant to be shown that the person saying it loves you so much that it pains them to see their significant other sad. Don't be sad for me please, I don't want to feel like I'm hurting by doing the things I need in my life.

Whenever I talk to you in a voice that isn't completely calm, you get anxious and tell me I'm being an asshole. I'm raising my voice because it's frustrating and that I want to deal with it. But I feel you become elusive when confronting these problems and see them in a way I never will. I feel you incredibly exaggerate almost everything and I know it's something you can't help but you can't hold me to your standards continuously.

 I can't think of the things that you sacrifice in your life as I do for you. What do you do for me? Do you let me watch my shows with me? Do you let me spend times with my friends without making me feel guilty?

What am I doing? Should I be with you? Is that what's best for me? I love you, but I hate how you make me feel like a monster.

------

Absent

I haven't felt like this in sometime.


It could've been the stress from my life
Drinking when I should've worked
Staying sober so I could drive to Love's

I woke every hour I slept.
I felt I had to figure out what I was doing with my life but there was nothing when I looked.