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Callousness by Blaze

The word makes me bristle. Even when I speak it “Callousness”. I feel it within my body being cold, heartless, frightened, devoid of feeling, expedient.
One of the definitions of callousness is unfeelingness: devoid of passion or feeling; hardheartedness. I have touched into sadness in writing this. It’s as though I don’t want to write a story about my experience with someone who was callous with me. I feel heartbroken. Really heartbroken. Yes, there was amazing passion there, there was amazing magic there, so what happened when he called one night and said in a nonchalant manner “I met someone.” I felt tossed out like a piece of used tissue, but I was given the choice of him saying “but I don’t know what will happen so let’s wait and see and let’s be friends.” Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. “I don’t want to be friends with you” “I love you I cannot be friends with you.” “I won’t allow you to fuck with me.”
To the outside world you really are a shit.
Only you and I know what happened between the two of us.
You said to me when we first met “this isn’t all about sex”
“We have to communicate with one another if we are to be in a relationship.”
The next thing I knew it was all about sex.
My generosity was overwhelming with my love and little gifts forturn your back on me0 you never expecting anything in return.
You consistently lied to yourself and then lied to me
Really believing that I would believe your lies
There was a great deal of love between you and I
A great deal of love between you and I
And you trashed it. You trashed it all.
But I know what it is to be loved. And I know what it is
to love, but you don’t oh you don’t and perhaps you
never will.
As I continue sitting here writing I am touching into some type of sensing. What am I sensing? I am sensing great sadness and compassion for all of the men and women who don’t know how to love, who have never felt loved. That makes me oh so sad. I feel a love that is overflowing within me. You see it’s not mine, but I feel love inside and out. Especially when I look into a baby’s eyes. I see their soul and I see mine as well. This isn’t all about me but it is about our human condition. People so desperate for love and when they find it all they want to do is to destroy. Oh sad, really sad the messenger is right now. Love never leaves you. You leave love, you run like hell from it, because it’s as fierce and as passionate as a baby’s soul.
Getting back to callousness again. It feels hard, really hard. It needs to be broken open, torn apart, exposed, ripped, and then a soft balm of lavender applied to heal the wound along with a lot of love, a lot of love. I am not afraid to love. I am not afraid. Are you?

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 28th, 2010 at 3:37 pm and is filed under Industry News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

2 Responses to “Callousness by Blaze”

  1. Joanie Watkins Says:

    Sometimes I am afraid to love. Afraid to be “tossed like a used tissue”, again. That was the exact words i used when my last boyfriend tossed me away about 5 years ago. I was devastated. Maybe because it was the last straw too many breakups and heart breaks for my little heart, strong heart but sensitive, I saw the red flags, probably in every case. Saw the other side of the coin, where I sit cross legged and meditating, touching my inner soul. Then repeating the same relationship over and over and expecting that this time it would be good, this time love would come and rest with me. But his being a dastardly shit falls on him. Just like I saw the red flags, they saw fair game to run their routine on. We all ‘know’. I just am exhausted. Because it feels like I can’t do it again. Picking someone who will never really give me what I need for my sweetness and peace with a lover .and me reliving almost with out choice a nasty past that was not in my control. Yes I am afraid to love. My wish is for me to love me enough, enough to see my worth, enough to never soil my perfect body, my sweet temple by allowing the Phillistines to trample in as if in a refuge deposit. Akin to the Chinese marching into the Sacred Lhasa. Blue

  2. Joanie Watkins Says:

    I felt Blaze’s writing reflected authentic emotion. Her response is authentic. Every woman who is ‘dumped’. She reflected the characters pov. very personal,,passionate.

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