Spirals

Spiralling:
The downward circles sapping energy,
Extracting wakefulness.
Plummeting:
The circles of slow descent abandoned,
All but forgotten.
Settling:
The stasis of hopelessness weighing down,
Breaking resolve.
Acclimating:
The knowledge of placement accepted,
Resigned to.
Stirring:
The spirals of activation gaining momentum,
Rising faster.
Rocketing:
The circles of slow ascent ignored,
Determined useless.

Words for a Bad Relationship

I've only been in one bad relationship from which to draw any description, but here are the words I came up with. I forget most things about that relationship, but sometimes it's helpful to remember where you've come from before lapsing once more into forgetfulness.

Inadequate
You're never as good as you need to be; even when you try your hardest he's not happy

Not knowledgeable
You're belittled when you don't know something and you're offered no explanation

Childish
You're spoken to as though you are a child, as though you should look up to him

Unintelligent
Your discussions ultimately come down to being told that you just don't understand

Lacking confidence
He says he likes it when you're confident, but it makes him more distant

Immature
You don't know as much as he does about relationships

Inexperienced
You aren't as good as the last one

Always at fault
Regardless of whose actions are being discussed, it always comes back to you

Isolated
You never see him when you are with your friends; if you are with anyone, it is his friends

Unimportant
You feel the need to remain silent when around other people, and you are not spoken to

Pressured
You feel a need to do things you don't want to do

Trapped
You feel as though if you left he wouldn't survive

Useless
You have no purpose besides sexual gratification or a silent companion when he's "lonely"

Remembering What was Never Forgotten

Sometimes I feel as though I have forgotten what it was like. I wish things would go back. I ask, “Do you remember when…?” and I ask, “Do you remember the first time we went…?” You fill in the blank. I’ve said the words a thousand times, because I feel so different now than I did then. I feel like I lost something over time. I feel like everything is different. I feel like it will never be the same. And I’m right. Nothing ever will be the same, and everything really is different. I am different. But I haven’t lost anything.

There are moments in time when I feel like I have remembered. I feel the same. I feel that this is love. But what I have failed to realize is that love changes. I cannot feel the same as I felt then because it is not the same. And it never will be. In two years, I will not feel the same as I do now because things will be different. But in that moment when I felt I remembered, I was not remembering what I thought I was remembering. I was remembering a feeling. I was not remembering love because I couldn’t remember love. I cannot remember what I have never forgotten in the first place.

Forgetting What was Never Remembered

I hate when I can't remember things. Like when I got the strawberry Chapstick, or where the apple-flavored sucker on my bed came from. They trigger a memory and I know I've seen them before, I know they are mine, but I don't know when I have seen them and I don't know why they are mine. The memories are less like memories and more like pieces, flashes of something never quite remembered. The candy is in some way connected to my boyfriend and the Chapstick came from Walmart. Perhaps such meaningless trifles aren't worth the worry. Maybe it shouldn't matter that I don't remember something as useless as where an apple sucker came from. Yet it seems to spread.

It does not spread like an infectious disease, spreading from memory to memory until I have none left. I remember a story of what happened at work, but I don't know what day it happened. It is not that I forgot. There was never anything to be forgotten. It is not that I am losing my memories. I am losing the ability to remember. I cannot forget what I never remembered in the first place.

Remembering What was Never Remembered

Sometimes I feel trapped. Trapped in a moment of indecision. It reminds me of a character in a book, feelings induced by words on a page, fodder for the imagination. Some of my strongest memories are not memories at all, or at least they are not my own memories. They are images and sentiments recalled only from words I have read or words I have written. I try to recall the memory, to flesh out the feeling in my mind, only to discover that it never truly existed, therefore it can never be fully felt; it can never be a completely realized thought. At times it is almost disappointing. I love that moment when I am about to remember something. On the brink of recalling a forgotten memory, I pause, physically and mentally, waiting for the familiar feeling of recognition, the understanding that follows my remembrance. When it never comes, it's like waiting for a beautiful promise to be fulfilled only to come to understand that it will never happen, that it never can happen. I cannot truly remember something when it was never mine to remember.