If Luyen and I were going out, we’ve broken up. I immediately regretted letting it happen. Now I find little solace in anything or anyone except alcohol. I like to think that I can stop any day. The problem with saying that, though, is that it assumes it’s a problem. If I don’t see it as a problem, it isn’t; even if it killed me.
I don’t mind drinking all the time, I like drinking all the time. I think people should find ways to explore the limits of reality. Who was it that proclaimed having both feet on solid ground to be the best state of mind in which to be? If you accept certain assumptions about reality, if you accept the material given reality, then perhaps sobriety is best. But argue for you limitations and, lo, they’re yours.
I question it, and it’s not a matter of being inebriated, but rather a defiance of norms and what is acceptable. I don’t know where I want to head, but I’d might as well start trying to let go of the illusion given to me. The illusion given to me is limiting. It’s safe, but it’s limiting. People want safe, so concrete is hard, pillows are soft, candy is sweet, not particularly challenging. Things that we take as given, that is exactly what they are - given, so they’re easy to understand and easy to accept.
I doubt these things which are given. Although I admit I’m not very responsible in my methods. If I kill myself, that phenomena would be misunderstood and any reaction would undoubtedly be counter-productive. My method isn’t for anyone since it is very self-destructive. It only works with people who understand the nature of their self-destruction and remove any conception of good or bad in self-destruction.
So why did I do it? Why do I keep coming up with these bad things about Luyen when it’s my problem and a problem with me? I know those “bad” things I attribute to her aren’t true or characteristic of her. I let Luyen walk right out of my life. It had gotten to be too much for me. There was so much tension and so little communication and I didn’t know how to deal with it or her.
We occasionally broke ground, but then she would lapse and I just couldn’t deal with it. I’m not that strong. Her problems are so similar to what mine were and in ways still are. I didn’t know how to handle it, I demanded progress and she wasn’t progressing. It all got to be too much. I felt neglected, I felt taken for granted, too vulnerable, used.
I didn’t see her at all on my birthday except in the morning and it was pretty ambiguous whether she knew it was my birthday or not. She didn’t indicate that she knew. Later, when I wasn’t here, she left a flower and a card on my bed. I think she was trying to avoid me. We broke up late that night, in darkness. We spoke for hours before she left, trying to qualify things and get things out.
Lord, who am I that I can’t put away my problems in her time of need? It makes me selfish and uncaring. Maybe all this will do her good and in the end it will be my loss.
