“Your mess is mine…” ~Vance Joy

I woke to a heavy heart. Dreamt of him. Not a good dream. I wish I didn’t remember my dreams so vividly because they play out in my head all day like a memory of something real.

I compare my moods to a game of shuffle board: I’m hung up on a feeling until something else–good or bad– comes along to knock that original feeling out of the way or push it deeper into my psyche.

I hate December.

My thoughts are racing so much these days!

I’m up!

I’m enjoying the sight of my Hooker Tree ( a hot pink tinsel Christmas Tree loaded down with sci-fi geekery) with a kitschy blue electric menorah burning beside it in the window.

Then I plunge: He goes home in a week and a half. I have one weekend left with him. And I panic. My stomach lurches and my heart feels like its trying to break my ribs.

Happy thoughts! I tell myself. I brew decaf coffee (with my anxiety, I can’t have caffeine anymore) and the smell soothes me. I light candles and open the back patio door to let the fresh chilly air purge the funk that I am releasing into my environment. I buy a few gifts online for my family.

Then I look at my phone. Nothing from him today. So attentive when we are together but when we are not…Last weekend as I got in my car, he leans in through the window to kiss me and says “Love you, drive safe.” I started because Im the one with the bleeding heart, always dropping the “L” bomb on him. He hasnt said it to me. But this was a slip of habit, I know. Like him hugging a family member (or his clinically insane wife) and the automatic, obligatory “love you, drive safe” comes out. He probably didnt even realize he let it slip out and if he did, he probably thought “Crap, hope she didnt catch that”. But what I wouldnt give for him to say those words on purpose.

I’m up! We’re drinking cheap wine, eating pizza and laughing. He’s such a lightweight! Two glasses of wine and he’s giggling like a girl. We’re in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do but hang out and watch movies. And it’s wonderful! Until the crazy starts pouring in again on his phone.

He has more baggage than anyone I’ve ever met. I try to be strong, I want him to lean on me, but he hates that I internalize his problems. But that’s what happens when you care about someone. You want to help and when they hurt, you hurt.

Because of this, he makes no promises. He doesnt talk about a future of ‘we’. He focuses on the now. He has to: Custody battle first, then divorce, then the next career move then…what? It’s not that he doesnt consider the future, he doesnt consider the future with me as a factor, as a Major Player in his life. Or if he does, the doesnt tell me. He just doesnt want to let me down. Or get my hopes up.
I told him, “Remember when I said I had no expectations and would be content if we came out of this as friends? I lied. I cant be your friend. I still have no expectations but I DO have hope.”

And I’m down. He’s not even gone yet but if this is a precursor–a taste– of the despair that is to follow when he leaves soon…G-d help me.

We both need something good to happen in our lives. Just give us ONE solid “win” on the board.

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Aint no sunshine when hes gone

He came to visit me for the weekend. To wrap my arms around someone I was convinced I would never see again, it was the first time in my life that ive ever cried with happiness. It was more than wonderful.  I slept soundly and through the night wrapped in his arms. Like the boogeyman dare not enter with him beside me. It was the happiest I had been in years,  maybe ever. The morning he had to leave, I lay there breathing in his scent and thinking “I love you, I love you…please G-d dont tAke him from me…”  That’s not to say that I’ve never been in love or cried over a man before him, Im saying I have never felt THIS. His spirit speaks to mine. His nature is perfectly complimentary to mine. In one another, we could find rest at last. Not perfection and all-roses, not without challenges,  but a peace and satisfaction that few have ever enjoyed. Certainly neither of us. Not with anyone else.
His only fault may be communication. He sucks at it.  And he has more baggage than any man Ive ever met. But I told him I was not afraid of that weight. The only reason I would walk away is because unless he takes care of…things…there will come a time that I will want more than he give. I already want more.
I dont know if hes in love with me yet. Hes not vocal about his feelings, unlike me (there’s that communication issue again) but he is working to get his life in order and he says he wants me to be part of it. And I love him beyond words so I wait. For now. I hope to see him again a few times over the next three weeks but after that, when he goes home, a couple thousand miles between us, will he forget me? When he wrapped me up and said “I forgot how good you feel” I replied “I didn’t forget you. Not any part of you.” 

“I am getting older. And it’s starting to show” The Broods

“I don’t want to wake up lonely
I don’t want to “just be fine”

A line in this song made me think of my father. My dad passed away in 2004. Just before Christmas. Suddenly. Three days after his 45th birthday. Ten years and I think I miss him more than ever. That was the mark of a real blow to my faith. Because I BELIEVED my father would be fine! Faith that should have moved a mountain, according to what I had been told.

My father reminded me of what I deserved. Better than what the men I had been settling for were willing to give. I try to keep his advice in mind but…

There is a new guy at work. Special Forces type of course bearing the mark of the recently retired: mandatory facial hair and a haircut that was now brushing the ears. He made himself known immediately. Alpha-male type who is looking for an in, like ‘him’ when we first met. I feel his eyes on me in meetings. And when we do talk in passing, there is an intensity—a predatory challenge in his gaze. It’s blatant to me. Does he sense the passivity and vulnerability in me? He doesn’t wear a ring but neither did ‘he’. It means nothing. With or without the ring, it means nothing. He remarked that he liked my ‘rockabilly look’ which I found odd because it has been months since I wore crinoline and victory rolls to work (too tired to bother in the morning these days). So I dress conservative out of laziness but he picked it up somehow. I laughed and told him he had a ‘look’ too. Pale blue collared dress shirt the same shade as his eyes, pushed up the forearms to reveal full sleeve tattoos. You can take us out of the uniform and dress us up but we’re not fooling anyone. He was exiting his truck when I rolled into the parking lot with the new Gerard Way album playing so loudly that his teeth were probably rattling like mine. He waited to open the door for me and in the span of a short conversation said (not asked. Said.) “We should go to lunch sometime”. I said “Not unless youre talking a sandwich from the base gas station. I only get 20 minutes for lunch.”

“We’ll figure something out” was his confident, off-hand reply. I almost want to tell ‘him’ about it. I tell ‘him’ about my other dates sometimes like “See? I’m not waiting for you” (WIN!) and then in the same email, admit that none of them stand a chance because he’s all I can think about is him (FAIL!). The SF community is so small, they probably know each other. So no, I wont mention names. Although I would love to say “You have some competition”. Except that he knows it’s a lie. I pray for the day that it’s the truth.

Because my dad told me I deserve better.

“I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies” ~ Hozier

Do you ever look at Facebook and see posts from a bunch of your friends out having fun together on a Saturday night and wonder why you werent invited? I wanted to be out tonight. I tossed ideas around, put out feelers but no takers. So it’s 10:30 and I’m home alone. Still dressed to go out but once the boots come off, it’s all over. Feeling so damned sorry for myself, I should probably just go to bed. I was supposed to be in the smokey mountains this weekend with the kin but mother canceled at the last minute. She just didnt have it in her. This is a bad time of year for all of us. Her father died a year ago this past Monday and October was when her husband, my dad, began to get sick. Three days after his 45th birthday on 24 November, he had a seizure and slipped into a coma. A month later, just before Christmas, he was gone. This time of year also marks the end of every major relationship Ive ever been in Sept is the downward spiral and by December, I was either divorced or nursing my wounds from an ugly betrayal. Four. No, five times. I don’t like the holidays anymore. It means death of people I loved, physically or emotionally. And I’ve never been kissed at midnight on New Years Eve. Never.

He’s home and writing to me daily but we only talk about his kids. In ten days and he hasnt mentioned his wife or the fact that he will be within a few hours drive of me in the next week or two. I told myself that I wasnt going to bring either topic up again. I dont need to hear about how awkward the sex is or her latest meltdown. The only thing I know is that he is waking up next to her. And if he wants to see me, he will have to ask. I wont beg. And if he doesnt…well, then I guess there is my answer. The last time we were together, I was content and I meant it when I said that I had no expectations except that we stay in touch and remain friends. My expectations were low but my hopes were high. Are still high. He does nothing to feed my hopes except continue to write me and refuse to tell me to go away. I confided in a friend that I had drawn a line in the sand: If he doesnt ask to see me while he’s near, then I will cut him off. My friend says “Good for you, drawing that line in the sand”. The problem with lines in the sand is the water. Tears roll in like a tide that blur and erase those lines that I draw.

But hey, I’m still trying to get out there and meet someone else! Except that the only guys who show interest have handles like “BigMeat”, “FitYoungEuropean” and “Papi4U”. And if any of their photos include them flexing shirtless in the bathroom mirror or holding a fish then it gets deleted without reading. So that’s 99% of them. The Marine Biologist who also happened to be a traveling performer at Renn Fests sounded promising until I saw the glorious mullet.

It’s a new moon. I have everything I need for a banishing ritual but my head and heart are not in the right place for it. It’s a catch 22: rituals are supposed to be cathartic, relaxing. But you need to relax and focus in order to conduct the ritual. So what? I take a half a xanax in order to relax enough so that I can perform a ritual which should help me relax? That’s why I’ve never been able to pass a polygraph either. That hamster in my head never stops running on that wheel. “Just dont think about anything”, he says. I imagine that must be what peace feels like. To be able to flip a switch in your brain.

My mother and I need to be in the mountains right now. Healing in the crisp air and changing leaves.

That’s it. The boots are coming off…