She says her time is nearly up

(the title originally read, “Her time is up,” but that sounds pretty ominous, doesn’t it?)

My great aunt is 90 y/o. She outlived her older sister by nearly 30 years. Though she doesn’t speak English, she was able to set up and secure a senior assisted living apartment without the assist of her daughters, nieces and nephews. Her mind is still as sharp as a tack though her body is weakening with age. My mother received a call and my great aunt (bew yee paw) started out the conversation with, “My time is coming to an end.” At first, my mom thought she was diagnosed with something terminal or a bad accident occurred. An accident did take place and though few bruises are the only result of a fall near some stairs, my great-aunt was scared and mostly, lonely. I pressed my mom for a better explanation for my great-aunt’s declarative statement and she told me, like my maternal grandmother, a gift of precognition runs through that side of the family. It doesn’t hit every generation and it mostly is passed on from mother to daughter but the strength/intensity is very variable. My bew yee paw said she was being called home. A chill went down my back: I recognized what my mother was saying was true because I’ve known it since I was a child. They called me an old soul and recently, I wondered if old souls are ones who haven’t learned their lesson in their lifetime and so, must be reincarnated until wrong’s are made right. Unless, you’re inline with the Dali Lama and make a conscious choice to return/leave Nirvana. That kind of sacrifice is rare.

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I refuse to be and stay hurt

When you look at your wallet, do you think of me?

When I hold the Kindle, do I hold some aspect of you?

The lines of communication made easier by equipment meant to commune
with each other, God, our loved ones…

I’m not afraid of a life without you, much, anymore
The hurt in your father’s eyes was enough
to let me know I was good and not just to you or them or Benji
It simply didn’t go unnoticed, that goodness is what makes me up

Continue reading “I refuse to be and stay hurt”

Impossible?

I want to go to Beck and curl up on a couch or bed or in my car so that we can talk, so that we can be vulnerable together and less likely to hurt each other. We’d been good about that these past two weeks when we were together, living in the moment. He thought I was asleep when he climbed into his bed and held my barely awake self. I heard him whisper that these were the conversations and times he loves, that he’d always love and be in love with me, that what we share means something to him… I wish I could hate him and I did for a few hours but I may as well try to change my skin color or the past for how futile that is. If he can love me without needing me, then I can see him for who he is without hating or resenting him. And I’ll stay away from him, I’ll learn to love him from afar, though it’d be better to have him close.

A 120 minute boost over great seafood and garlic bread –

JP: “What kind of dick says to the person he supposedly loves, ‘You deserve a rich guy who will take care of you and love you. I want you to have the best?’ Don’t you see the contradiction?”

Me: “Not really…”

JP: “I told you that he’s been playing games with you from the start. I hate seeing you so broken up over some douchebag who doesn’t and didn’t deserve you. It’s so unforgivably disrespectful to anyone, nevermind your “true love,” to think it’s okay to treat you the way he has. Let him go, freeze him out! Why do you think you owe him an apology?!”

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When the Universe Speaks

We should be listening and be receptive to the message.

To drop pretenses and resentment. To rise above anger and retaliation. To be humble and make apologies and steps toward reconciliation if it is still possible; if it is not, then to accept it with as much grace as can be mustered. To appreciate what we have now because later will be just too late. To live in the moment, plan for the future and reflect on the past: dwelling only on the beauty of Nature.

I’ve come full circle and I know how fortunate I am that when this trip set sail on dangerous, stormy waters with an absent captain, my “crew” (my friends and dear ones) straightened out the keeling ship with firm reminders of my strength, beauty, intelligence, ability to love unconditionally, selflessness, drive for success and resilience. This, too, shall pass and God burdens nobody with more than they can handle. When I fail myself it’s a world away when I fail someone else and should I choose myself, my peace of mind, the people who matter are the ones who don’t need any amends. For they’ve already seen and experienced a kindness, a support and fierceness to protect and love that’s uncommon to just happen upon and rare to find again. They remind me that when I can’t see the silver lining, it’s because I am that lining and when the murky, frightening darkness goes, I’ll see it again. It helps that I didn’t wake up alone.

Continue reading “When the Universe Speaks”

Your name is Stranger (rough draft)

I’ll admit I cordoned off aspects of my heart and mind
because it was the only way of getting past your cruelty in heated moments
because we stopped being patient, gentle and kind toward one another
You stopped listening to me and assumed I did the same
In your jargon, it was a battle to win and I was someone to be crushed out; but we don’t get to choose who we love; I’d choose to stop loving you
but I, unfortunately, still love you and care for your success and well-being

I want you to admit you fucked up by hastily acting and not thinking
You pride yourself on being a reasonable and rational mind
but you’re your own worst enemy, consistently getting in the way of your progress
Unable to clearly see that the pain you feel, you’re responsible for inflicting
That your personal life is in the same shambles you predicted for your siblings

Continue reading “Your name is Stranger (rough draft)”

It’s amazing

Fear not me and not my wrath but the power I wield
a power that abides by my thoughts, feelings and needs
It’s not God though it does come damn close
Cosmic greatness responding to my cries
cradling me, protecting me with only the will to live
the strength to fight back and stand upright

You think you know what flows through my being
You’ve had a taste, yes and you’ve only sipped a
drop from a thundering waterfall for yourself
Attached to me, everything at your will
Without, a free fall I’ll observe resolutely
You never deserved my kind, my caliber

Handing over, to a friend, my pw’s and user names to social media, electronic communication devices, and basically anything that would leave me vulnerable to Beck. It’s a HUGE risk (what if they steal things or read and watch everything private, unique, etc.) and one I know may bite me in the ass. My peace of mind and my heart matter more though – especially to the people unaccustomed to me opening up. I promised that you ain’t seen nuthin’ like me yet and if I didn’t have 1,000 lifetimes of good karma, I’d be worried for my soul. As it is, I’m a generous, thoughtful and kind person who as amassed similar to herself. I’m going to come out on top as I always have and as it should be.

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One weekend was reenacting the past – final draft

Hearing Beck confirm his best friend was supportive of our break-up made my blood pressure rise a notch. This is the same guy who I visited with Beck while he was in the hospital, surviving a vehicular accident involving a pedestrian for three weeks, multiple times a week. I helped scratch those hard to reach places when you’ve got a neck brace, went straight to the nurse’s station when his calls for assistance went unanswered, helped adjust his hospital bed firmness, drove him to wrestling matches/other destinations, drove Beck to meet him (paint balling birthday party), cooked for (including Beck’s other friends on game night), visited his mother and so on over the 6 years we were together! This same guy who thought my sleep deprived state was a deliberate slight (no sleep in 3 days, trying to pull myself together for a wedding two state lines over) and who thought he was smarter than me.

Beck thinks falling out of love with someone is a process and he’s right in a way. What he doesn’t know is how the little pieces in our hearts and soul that we trade-off when it comes to love are things, are little pieces you can’t get back and you have to live with those empty spaces. It’s not loneliness or some dark hole people have to live with in despair and it’s definitely not something that demands or can be filled. It’s the triumph of love that we willfully share thoughts, bodies, hopes, dreams and everything that amounts to being an individual connecting with another. We can never own another, nevermind their love, but we can enjoy their company walking along the path Fate or Destiny lays out. We can share and we can give as we will take but it’s how and what we make of it that will matter. Memories replace memories for him; memory isn’t as merciful with me. I told him one of the most soul breaking events to occur to someone is having to learn the difference between being in love with someone and just loving someone. But for 28 hours, we existed in our own bubble again – untouchable by any other bullshit in our lives. The same security as we had when we first started.

How can it be explained that growing/maturing as an adult doesn’t mean literally embodying a new persona? That a new way of thinking/of being doesn’t warrant the necessity to burn everything/everyone else built up to that point. An illustration would be Neo, from the movie The Matrix, dying once and coming back in the same body. Another way of looking at stunted emotional growth is seeing someone’s limited emotional I.Q. The weight of the wisdom I’ve gained through all my long term relationships beckons me to live it out alone. How do you draw anger spawned by disappointment and how does one find that little thing to hold onto? How can I show you that living while tethered to someone who doesn’t want me is twisting me so hard and so deeply, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to untangle myself? The gut instinct that I shouldn’t want someone who desires to emotionally stunt himself now for rewards later is screeching like a banshee for me to cut ties. I’ve been here before, thrice, and it never gets easier; so, as before, I surrender.

“It’s the one who won’t be taken, who cannot seem to give… and the soul afraid of dying, never learns to live…” ~ The Rose by Bette Midler

A Night filled with Guys…

… especially the kind that will appreciate and admire a mind melted with a sculpted body should be enough to forget a broken heart 😉

To be told that I am deserving of a real man smarter, more powerful, wise enough to see what he has with me and wealthy is gratifying, especially coming from a man I look up to. At a bar, getting carded and then, told I definitely don’t look old enough to be 21 plus my ID is expired/possibly fake nearly killed it for me, however. I’m only touching my early 30-40’s but I still know when my birthday is and mofo, I can’t name a punk rock band from the late 90’s-early 200’s cause it wasn’t my scene! In a way, it’s rewarding to know I’m somehow aging backwards appearance wise but it screws with how I feel on the inside. Being born and recognized as an “old soul” all my life takes away some levity but lends to it during necessary times. Like being given the stink eye when my mom realizes I’ve been out and about without my ex: she was there, from 2003-2008, as I tried to balance two boyfriends over a 4 year term and I guess it’s fitting that she’s present for the demise of a 6 yr relationship. Serial monogamy is what it’s called now, I think.

One thing I’m learning is (that I didn’t know I wouldn’t want) how painful and irritating it is when people around me hear that Beck and I broke up. They feel compelled to offer one of five things: false hope (meaning Beck and I will get through this as we have countless other things), shallow calls of bravado and encouragement to indulge in my new single-ness or to be happy I’m “finally” rid of him,  unsolicited advice/assistance (i.e. support)/stories of others’ romance, insistence that I should apologize/compromise/keep gunning for the relationship in the name of love and the names/number/contact of someone who would be “great for me” that they’d love to introduce to me. If not giving, then they’re taking by asking really personal questions (leading to trash talk about someone they don’t know save for the fact that he’s now my ex), feeding off my emotional turmoil and trying to take advantage of my need for cuddling! Sometimes, I get the sidelong looks when I defend Beck or condescending smile and attitude like I’m delusional to be explaining his side of the story (there’s always two-sides and I don’t know why or how some people can’t understand that: as if they’ve never matured out of high school to grasp the concept of owning up to one’s mistakes and responsibilities for their actions and words) and giving him credit for the growth he started with and semi-willingness to develop more. An example: I fought with Beck on topics that mattered to me and when Mitt Romney ran for the POTUS, he and I were at each others’ throats! When we realized that politics and news sucked us into senseless fights, we dropped conversations on the former in addition to being able to recognize in the other passion and frustration building up. We would then make note of it out-loud and from there, it became the responsibility of the person getting heated up to acknowledge it (apologizing, too, if the situation called for it) and calm the fuck down.

I don’t envy Beck’s position of having to tell his friends AND family members that it’s over for us. I strove to prove myself to all of them that I was a good hardworking person and worthy of Beck. In six year’s time, it’s seeing my face at get-together’s, weddings and family events alongside Beck that not only getting to know them, but building  closer bonds outside of Beck’s relation to them is tough. My dad really enjoyed talking to Beck and really liked him as a prospect for a son-in-law; I haven’t found the courage or fortitude to tell my dad the news. I can’t stand letting my parents down and their disappointment – it cuts deep that I failed at another relationship. Can I possibly be the common denominator?

Gotta careen this spinning head into a pillow

brb

Can’t sleep

As my body re-balances to its normal self, I can’t sleep at night every night. My meds are at the lowest they can be and I’m taking them only as needed; I swam for 2 hours yesterday after an uncomfortable night dreaming of horrible things/waking every 4 hours, thinking my body needed physical exertion to tire out. Last night, I dreamt of my ex and woke up needing him around 3 am – such an unfair desire given the current circumstances. I toyed with a Skype call for an hour and decided that putting him through anymore angst after last Sunday was ultimately selfish and thoughtless. Still, I haven’t been able to rest or fall back into sleep and I’ve been wandering the ‘net looking for a distraction from these thoughts:

Trying to figure out a way where we could have it all and wrestling with the fear that he’ll be the one who got away. I’ve never felt that fear for any of my ex’s and crushes: even when an old flame has confessed that I’ll always be the one who got away from him, there’s never a doubt in my mind that the inverse could be true because it isn’t. Maybe in a few weeks, I’ll have a clearer understanding of what drives me in the direction of Beck or maybe he’ll be able to provide the answer without me having to do the work of sweating it out. I just know that writing helps, even if it seems like I’m writing in circles. Shit, JP said something similar during our phone call. I guess writing things out is my sounding board when I can’t have Beck to listen or help me out with a problem.

One of the snippets of last night’s nightmare: Beck was gone permanently and all the things, mostly good, that I had held back for fear of reproach/rejection could only be released in sobs. He can’t bring himself to stay with/rejoin me and my fortitude may not be enough. Sometimes, the way he speaks, he makes it sound like he’s the only one  who was tormented by our fighting – that he was the only one getting hurt and feeling the most pain. I need to remember how utterly selfish that is if staying away from him is the only thing that will work for us in maintaining a platonic friendship. I only know that he’s my mirror image in some ways and my polar opposite other ways, all coming together as two halves in one unit. Gotta refrain from the nicknames and terms of affection somehow, too.

It’s the dichotomy of Scars and Let it Go by James Bay that we inhabit.