I have a headache

When I was in Spain, someone Facebooked me a message saying Hi, so me being the friendly sort that I am, said Hi back.  I had no idea who this person was, I still don’t, but we are facebook friends and supposedly we went to high school together.20130717-143509.jpg20130717-143520.jpg20130717-144139.jpg

I haven’t responded back.  The last thing I need is some guys wife telling me she needs a girlfriend.

I feel like Deuce Bigalow male gigolo, only I’m a girl.  Both my clients asked me out yesterday.  The first one was married with three children and is a political figure in the community – not easy on the eyes mind you, and the second was a beaten man.  He screamed powerlessness, hopelessness and depression.  I actually met him at a Kid Rock concert a few days ago.  He came over to our little group of renegades and offered us shots of whiskey.  No one wanted any.  We started talking and I told him to come to me whenever he wanted a massage, and so he did.

I don’t like dealing with stuff like this.  Drama follows me wherever I go.  I’ve been dealing with drama like this my entire life.  I have trouble being mean, I just can’t do it.

I’ve been hanging out with Brad almost every single day since I been back from Spain.  I take him everywhere with me – every place I want to go, he’s up for it.  Any movie, cabaret, film festival, the wine tasting was his idea!  He doesn’t get jealous, resentful or clingy (despite we hang out all the time), and most important, he’s honest.  He’s honest and good.  We are going to start playing guitar at his house, next week we are spending the weekend together for the Gathering of the Vibes and in September I’m joining the historic society with him.  I guess it’s safe to say that he’s officially my new BFF.

I’ve never been without a BFF and I can’t imagine my life without one.  I feel safe with him, you know?  Like I can do no wrong, and he will never hurt me, always got my back.  Nothing is more important than having a friend like that – nothing.  I mean it.  And the platonic part is great – platonic means that he’s not out for one thing, platonic means he actually cares.

The guy bought me a VIP ticket for the Vibes and wants nothing for it, only to be in my company.  He’s fantastic is all I can say.  I love him, I really do.

I know this shouldn’t be important, I know, but the highest happiness for me is being seen for who I am and despite being who I am, I’m still loved and cared for.  Most people manipulate, plan and maneuver in a way where their true selves stays buried under pretensions and ostentations.  A way for them to remain powerful and in control.  These people never experienced what I’ve been experiencing my entire life – to be yourself and be loved regardless.  Nothing is more important and I’m telling you – nothing!

It’s all in the seeing.  But not everyone sees.  Not everyone see’s me.  When someone loves me without actually having seen me, I know they either want sex, or they are desperate and lonely.  I’m intuitive enough to know this without any words being spoken.  And it’s a huge turn off, even if they’re good looking and seemingly normal.

People don’t see because they put themselves ahead of everyone.  All their baggage, all the weight of stress, hidden intentions, or the weight of being insecure, not confident – they only see themselves and miss out on seeing the person that is standing right there beside them.  They talk about nonsense, about superficial stuff that don’t matter in the least.  They don’t talk in the moment, but just on the other side of it – they are not present.

I see people, but it’s hard sometimes because it takes effort.  It takes effort to find the soul in them – the part that feels, the part that’s beyond being human and secretive.  Sometimes it doesn’t feel worth it to me – I hate to say it, but they can be too far gone, I don’t have the strength or desire to bring them back.  Like those vicious teenagers on talk shows that want to make babies and punch their mothers in the face.

Brad is one of those guys where it doesn’t take any effort to see his humanity.  I can hang out with him even when I’m exhausted and cranky.  And that’s how I know he’s BFF material.  He’s there with me on ground zero.  In the moment, no hidden agenda, no insecurities.

Artists create because they want to be seen for exactly who they are and what they’re capable of.  But mostly they create art to be loved.  That’s all it is.  They want to be truly seen – their souls exposed and they want to be loved for who they are inside.  They create because they can’t help it.  They can’t help seeing their own beauty inside.  And when others see it, it’s the highest high you can ask for.  It’s like being in love.  Only, you’re in love with yourself.

You can see my soul all over this damn blog.  I’m writing to be seen.

All artists are damaged inside by their own mind trying to figure shit out.  Most people don’t like figuring out anything, but artists bleed willingly.

They are narcissistic, in constant pain and longing no matter who or how many people they have in their lives.  I’ve been told I’m about a four on the narcissist scale, but I swear I will never use or hurt anyone – I may be a narcissist, but I’m also empathetic to a degree that is beyond understanding.  And as a narcissist, I hate being empathetic – trust me.  It’s a complete contradiction to my own personal psychosis, and only add’s to my torment.

So do I need Brads love?  Being inflicted with narcissism, yes.  I do need it.  It’s like getting a dose of heroine.  Bad medicine that I’m addicted to.

My friend told me this:

Immature love-  “I love you cause I need you.”

Mature love-  “I need you cause I love you”.

I’m in-between those two.  As long as I’m still able to get hurt by others, I still have that immature love attached in me.

I need to figure out how to get these two clients to keep coming back to see me without having to go out with them.  This truly sucks.  I want to curl up in a ball under blankets just thinking about it.

People drain me and hollow me out.  I’m not a helper, I’m not a saintly angel – I’m not even much of a giver.  But I am nice, I’ll give myself that.  I feel sorry for others and feel guilty for hurting them.  I have to stop this behavior.  This self-sacrificing behavior.  I only want to do what’s right all the time.

I have this power in me that I can turn on and off whenever I want.  If I know someone has the potential of getting attached, I turn off my hidden power.  Basically hiding my true self (which happens to be one charming bastard), and push them away.  However, if I know the person is cool (such as the case with Brad), I let it shine.

When I’m working, I let it shine.  I let it shine because it helps me relate to the client better, build trust and a good rapport – and it works.  But I can come off as being one hell of a charming S.O.B.

And I’m nice, empathetic, a narcissist, so my general inclination is to appease people.  I wish I can keep my charming nature, but lose my need to appease.  I think I can do it.

Okay, I just sent the depressed client a text that read:


Ouch that’s harsh.  I feel bad, trust me.  But hey, what am I supposed to do?  I doubt I’ll ever hear back or see him again.

Okay, so maybe I’m not a narcissist.  I just hate rejection and feeling abandoned.  How can you tell the two a part?  I hate rejection ergo, I hate rejecting others.  That sounds more true than labeling myself a narcissist.

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