Bonfire of the Sanity

I’ve never been a believer in the “bad luck” of Friday the 13th.

However…

Today, could have been the exception to that belief.

Men…can be so thoughtless, hurtful and cruel. (Yes, I’m sure women can be too, but since I’m not bisexual or gay, my romantic relationships have never involved the feminine gender)

Everything seemed to go up in flames today.

The man I’ve been talking to for 3.5 years? Well, on New Year’s Day, I told him that I wasn’t going to wait anymore. That I was tired of always coming in last place on the priority list. I’d told him months earlier that if he couldn’t make me a priority & actually keep his word by the end of 2016, that I was done.

The time lapsed, he still hasn’t decided that I’m important enough to merit meeting face to face, so…I ended it.

At least, on my side.

He…won’t stop texting & attempting to call. He’s furious that I’m actually sticking by what I said. 

He’s blaming me for the situation.

Every decision he’s made, he’s made on his own, for his own reasons, & tells me about them after he’s already decided & taken that step. How is this my fault?

So, I threw my phone in my purse & ignored him for most of the day.

I hate confrontation & arguments.

Cue the next thing.

Another man I know, who I dated in the past, starts sending me mixed messages. He’s never wanted the “forever” thing, so I never bothered to bring it up, knowing it was a moot point, & would never come to pass. I’ve never let myself say the “L” word with him, because I do want monogamy, commitment, & marriage again, someday. 

But today, in the emotional turmoil I was experiencing with E, I start getting messages from this other man, that sounded almost romantic & sentimental. (I say almost because I don’t know what to believe anymore with this, whether it was meant as a “haha-funny”, or if it was supposed to be taken for real).

I’m so messed up in the head right now.

PLUS, (yeah, there’s more)…

I sent an email the other day to a man I knew a few years ago, who I dreamt about, & felt compelled to contact. We were emotionally close at one time, and confided in each other a lot of personal stuff. We were close to seeing if we could “make a go of it” romantically, when he suddenly backed up & disappeared.  It destroyed me for a long time, & I’ve never completely gotten over the loss. Not just as a romantic prospect, but as a dear friend, & someone I’d come to think of as Chosen Family.

I didn’t expect a response at all, as he was pretty clear about not wanting any kind of relationship with anyone, ever. (Miles of bad relationship road behind him, & a fear of getting hurt again)

He responded, & wants to talk as soon as he returns from a work trip he had to go on.

Flaming unicorns on pogo sticks.

My sanity won’t take much more.

My brain is on fire, my heart is in pieces, and I can’t see the point of continuing with much of anything right now.
So, after I finish this post…

I’m putting down the phone, face down, so I don’t have to see it’s mocking screen…and I’m going to pour myself an adult beverage.

Or six.

No, I’m not laughing as I write this.

I’m completely fucking serious.

And I’m seriously completely fucked.

Vintage Poetry #2

After dealing with a migraine today, it’s time for me to pass on some of the love.

Cue the old poetry…

Mirror Image 

You sit there

Talking to me

But I don’t hear what

You’re saying

I’m looking 

In your eyes

Seeing my own pain

Reflected there

You’re telling me

Something about

How you never promised me

A rose garden

I never

Asked for one

All I wanted

Was that you

Be honest

With me

Tell me what

You feel

I’ll understand

I

Won’t break

I promise.

*funny how present life seems to imitate the past, ain’t it?*

One Tear for Me

Just cry one tear for me

Then I’ll be on my way

Please tell me that you loved me

At least you did one day

It matters to me now

What you have to say

Even if it won’t

When I am old and gray

I could have loved you deeply

But you just walked away

Before I had a chance

To say what I had to say

So just cry one tear for me

My love

Then I’ll be on my way.

-4/8/87

*damnedest thing, how these still sound so familiar*

Mannequins

Here I stand

At the window

Looking in.

My hands pressed against

The glass

My breath making fog

On its surface.

Let me in, I say

I tap on the glass

But they don’t see

Or hear

Their backs are turned

And then, so is mine

I turn and see her

Standing there

With her hands pressed

Against the glass

As mine had been

I know that I

Am no longer alone.

We back away from the window

“They’re only mannequins”

She says

I noticed that too

We walk away together

Knowing that they are only

Window dressing

While we have the whole world

To ourselves.

-4/14/89

*this was for my best friend, who showed me how much bigger the world was, when all I saw was a small town*

*and here’s the last one I plan to publish here, as this has reminded me why I haven’t posted these before…*

Think of Me

Every time you see a happy child

Think of me

When you see something free and wild

Think of me

When you read a story

With a happy end

Or get a letter from

Your best friend

See my smiling face

Happy for you

Think of me.

When you’re lost and alone

And you want to go home

Think of me

If you’re sad or you’re blue

Know I’m thinking of you

When you see the sun come out…

Think of me.

-1/30/89

Fini

No Home

Something I figured out tonight… something I’d thought about before, wondered why many times…but never had an answer until now.

Why don’t I feel as “grown up” as most of the other 40-something’s I know? Why is it, that I feel so abnormal, so out of place with my peers?

Most of the people I know my age, talk about their jobs, their kids, their gardens & recipes. They talk about their spouse, & where they’re going for their next vacation, or about how the car “just isn’t running right, so I’d better take it in”. 

I hear them discussing things like regular adults, day to day stuff, “grown-up” stuff.

So why am I still stuck contemplating my navel, & why my relationships always seem to turn to shit?

Grief.  It’s grief. And the fact that most of those other adults don’t feel it all the time, as I seem to be.

Sure, I know it sounds odd, so let me explain my reasoning.

Grief – is Love with no place to go. It’s Loving, but not being able to give that Love to someone. Not having a “home” for it. Grief is having so much love, & never being able to show it, or having the one you love throw it away. It’s Feelings so strong you seem to crack at the seams, and they leak out of your face, sliding down your cheeks, only to fall to the floor. It’s the desolation of knowing that the Love you have, has nowhere to land, either because the one you love has passed, or simply left you behind.

Grief – is Love, lost and confused, spinning back on itself in the hope of finding resolution, only to discover there’s no doorway back to how it was before.

And these other adults, the people I watch, they don’t have to worry about Grief in that way. 

Because they have their purpose, they have a place for their love to go. They have their SO, their contented life, balanced &, for the most part, fairly whole. Grief, when it does strike, doesn’t consume their whole world. They’re able to get through it, because they have that balance, that Love with a Home to go to.

So, they talk about their gardens, and their weekends, their jobs & kids & pets & what they’re going to make for dinner.

And me?

Well, I know my home is not here. 

Not anymore.

Where it is, I don’t know. 

Someday, maybe, I’ll find a Home for my Love. Until then…

I am Grief.

Only on the blog will you find me this open. 

Out in the “Real World”… I’m fine.

Not Today

I just can’t hold onto the positive hopes.

Not today.

Because a couple of days ago, I told him that 3 1/2 years of waiting was enough. 3 1/2 years of late-night conversations, daily texts, occasional phone calls…but never a face to face meeting, was enough.  That 3 1/2 years of broken promises, one after another, was enough.  When words are only words, and never become deeds…how do you continue to believe in tomorrow?

Not today.

My heart is torn into pieces right now.  I know, everyone says…”It’ll change. You’ll find someone. Someone will come along and just sweep you off your feet.”

Not today.

Today, I mourn.

It’s over.

And it never even started.

This…THIS is why I have defensive walls so high and thick it takes a mountaineer to climb them.

Fucking men with their habit of ghosting, benching, promising & breaking, blowing me off, calling me “psycho” when I get upset after they refuse to live up to their word. Disappearing because of their own fears & insecurities, then laying it off on me as my fault because they can’t handle relationships & monogamy.

Goddess…I’m so tired of this.

I just want one man. One MAN, who can be an adult, is willing to commit, and can see that I’m worth more than just being a friend with benefits, or a hookup. I don’t want the games anymore.

And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.

I’ll be just fine.

But not today.

 

Vintage Poetry #1

*Oh.my.god.  I’d forgotten how sappy & simple some of my old poetry was… Oy.

Ok, here goes…*

You & Me

Your eyes touch mine

And I smile

Your hand holds mine

And I’m warm

Your arm encircles me

And I’m safe

There’s no way I can

Come to harm

You smile 

And my heart skips a beat

You laugh

And my world is complete

I wake

To find it’s but a dream.

(12-15-87)

*I was still in high school…so sue me. I was emo before it was a thing.*

Little Roses

Little roses

Pale and pink

Overflowing

In the sink

Clip and snip

Trim and prune

It’s time for them

To die, too soon

Buds not opening

Never showing

The rare, rich beauty

Of the rose inside

Their cries of pain

Go unheard

On display

Like small, caged birds

Cry, little roses

Tears of pink

To overflow

And fill the sink.

(12-16-87)

*yeah…I’m not posting some of these…they’re decidedly too…wow, was I a sap as a kid, or what? I can tell a lot of them were written to try to gain approval from others, & never should’ve seen the light of paper…I’ll be burning some of them later in effigy

And the last emo thing for the night…(posting this one with my eyes closed, I think)*

Tear Song

Sing a song of suicide

A pocket full of lies

Four and twenty sorrows

Form in my eyes

When my song is over

They begin to sing

Wasn’t that a funny way

To go and meet the King?

(1-8-88)

*See? Emo as all get-out. Did you sing along after catching the tune it was written to?

Geez.

Maybe this little parade down memory lane wasn’t the grandest idea… Or, maybe it was, as a way to get me to finally get rid of some of this paper trash!  We’ll see how far down the rabbit hole I go with this, or if I give it up as a badly spent penny…*