giving an ultimatum the addiction or me was not my intent it was an act of desperation a move of futility the last thing i could think of to have a reason to stay because i knew all along just as the sun rises and as it sets i was never in the running.
Category: Relationships
Recent Events
Someone commented on how I looked as though I had lost a bit of weight. They were concerned as I've not much on me to begin with. My cousin is a curandera and she did a deep cleanse on my apartment while I was at work. I pulled into my spot, already feeling the weight pulling me under again. She was on her way out, I rolled down the window to my car and asked how it went. Apparently, whatever was/is left of you/us has been battling viciously to stay. No shit. "I gave him a piece of me and I won't stop fighting to get it back." She nodded and said, "I know." She walked away and I parked my car. A spot I rented specifically for when you would spend the night. Oh well. I stepped into my place and it smelled of Dragons Blood, herbs, and an earthiness I could not identify. And I was hit with exhaustion. It's become a familiar reoccurrence since trying to rid myself of All Things You. The first time, I tried cutting you out on my own. The whole thing knocked me out in seconds, I could barely make it to my bed to lie down before I was asleep, heavy and deep. No dreams, only dark. The smoke alarm woke me up, the string I used had started a small fire. It amazed me that it dropped upon a bag of clothes meant for good will and nothing else near or around the candles was harmed. But also a lesson that I was an idiot and I should leave the spells and rituals to my cousin who was far more practiced and knowledgeable in that area. I never believed in magic. The old ways of our ancestors, the Yaqui practitioners from centuries past, meant a damn thing to me. I believed in intention, goodness, keeping a karmic balance as best I could. I believed in science and tangibility. As a 3rd generation American, any semblance of brujeria in my bloodline had been watered down like that of ice in flat, flavorless soda and it would be silly of me to put stock in any of that kind of unknown. I equated it to believing in God. Yet, I knew I gave you something when we first met. I felt it. I gave you a fragment of my essence. A slice of me intended for you to hold and keep with you, safe and loved. Since the split, I had not been right. This was no regular heart-ache. I had loved and lost ridiculously hard before, this was Not That. I knew it was something out of my scope of comprehension. I asked for her help, almost set my apartment on fire, and then passed out. Lesson learned. My cousin's magic is strong. My home has been spiritually sanitized by someone who loves and cares for me, I am feeling well enough to eat again, and I feel the gnawing twist deep within loosening, unwinding itself. I tend to my plants, I've begun to straighten up the various messes, room by room. I miss you the way someone misses a memory. Faded, foggy, blurred by too much time gone by. Even though it's only been a few days. I am regaining my own strength, no longer weakened by my love for you.
Cord Cutting
I've not been able to stop. These thoughts, sentences, feelings. Not even for minutes. Even when I haven't been able to jot down every living, breathing, writhing word, they all wriggle freely in my head, against another, with another, becoming another. I try and fail to make any of it come to some sort of sense. In the odd quiet, I notice the quick clicks and clacks upon my keyboard. After midnight in the city on a Friday. No sirens. No yelling. No squealing of tires echoing on the streets. Nothingness of sound. I wish I was as void as that. Somewhere, not so long ago, in a dream, I pressed myself against you, a soft but firm embrace and you did the same to me. Together, we fell into the waking sleep of souls connecting and the electricity of the event brought us front and center, face to face - rather, face in face, body in body, and it was the palpable just short of physical melding of something so far beyond our scope for rationale and reasoning. I know this was a dream because it is fading fast as the light of what used to be Us. There is no longer a We, only a Me and a You. I am drowning in the madness of missing you. But is it that? Or is it that have I lost a part of myself and this is why my stomach turns, my head pounds, my hands shake...I am going into shock because there is an integral piece of what Keeps Me Partially Whole not in place. I would like it back, please. Pack it up, wrap it gently - or not, leave it in a paper sack or store it in a gift shop box, I could care less how it finds its way home to me. I will happily and immediately give yours to you because I aim to cut any and all cords which bind. I was not made to carry you like this, alone and without solid promise for reunion. I don't fool myself into believing that you are suffering the same. You have your way to escape and hide from any and all things unpleasant. I do not. I have the eerie stillness of a Friday night in the city, the clock ticking, the branches outside my window rustling tip-toe soft as to not disturb the quiet, my fingers tapping away at this rant which you will never see. I have myself, my resolve, and what's left of what I thought was Real. And I have the strength to walk away.
When
When Breaks are Break-ups and there's no running from the truth When the love is there but neither has a thought on what to do When they try and they try because they don't want to lose it When the writing's on the wall but they plumb choose to refuse it When the words have lost meaning and silence becomes queen They leave each other, along with what could have been
crumbs
i left a crumb of myself behind followed by another and another and another every few steps in plain sight for you to find your way back i remain hopeful despite the dwindling of the light the dark is infinite i've dropped the last morsel the smallest bit left i wait don't idle long, my love the birds are circling and they are hungry
I’ll Cry About It Tomorrow
I'll cry about it tomorrow I don't have the time for it today Too much time deliberating Whether or not to walk away Dangling like a carrot Promises you don't intend to keep I'll worry about it tomorrow I need to catch some sleep I'll cry about it tomorrow No time, No time today I'll cry about it tomorrow When nothin's left to say I'll let it all out tomorrow I'll try and carve out some time Too busy drowning my heartache In this almost empty jug of wine We've said our peace, nothing's changed My heart can't bear this weight I'll think about this tomorrow Hopefully it won't be too late I'll cry about it tomorrow No time, Just no time today I'll let it all out tomorrow When there's nothin' left to say If I could have just one more day I promise, I won't make a scene I'll have dry eyes until tomorrow Just to hold you close to me Almost morning and the bed is empty Light slowly seeps in from dawn Tears flow to soak my pillow Tomorrow has finally come
Fine wine
We banter years have done nothing to whittle away our love It isn't what it once was We are older Far more tired than not Seasoned We can laugh at our former follies Joke about the flaws Compliment the qualities Mutual respect and appreciation An anomaly Old friends who became lovers Old lovers who became enemies Old enemies who became friends We've come full circle And as you console me with words which could have been used decades past when you last broke my heart words which are rolling off my back and doing almost nothing to stem the wound left from this most recent journey into Love's thorny territory I know I'll be fine. Friendship lasts longer And you and I have aged like fine wine.
Intention
my mind wandered as the knife sliced clean thorough efficient through the pungent onions the stubborn carrots the sound of the blade brought satisfaction crisp against the celery i readied the stove flames medium the aroma of care permeating my home the once solid bacon drippings melted in the cast iron pot small bits missed from sieving sizzled crackled my heart sang the song of the women before me all the heartaches the miseries the mistreatments dissolved like animal fat over heat the ballad of my forebearers fell on me and i felt it as i had before this was love a calming daytime lullaby a melody only heard in my kitchen and i thought of you in the peacefulness of that moment what we had spoken of laughed about agreed upon intention every dash of salt shake of spice slow stir of whatever was bubbling simmering coalescing a rhythm notes being played subconsciously and through intuition i could dance all night to the music i cooked and for the quickest blink of a millisecond i missed you
A Kind of Naked
my eyes grew smaller by the minute i should have been sleeping instead late night conversation next to you side by side in my bed fully clothed head to toe while we stripped down to the vulnerable nudity of our souls the soft cushions of the longed for hopes strewn haplessly unorganized dusty but present unearthing past dreams hidden under blankets in the corner my secrets and your demons whispering to each other co-conspirators partners in crime tendrils of one coiling towards the curls of the other linking intertwining unifying and i should have been sleeping yet there i was naked in my truth marveling at the stark authenticity of yours modesty is overrated
The Universe Sent A Memo
This morning, my ex-husband came to pick up the kids. Ever the hospitable host, I mentioned I had one croissant left. Would he like a breakfast sandwich? Never mind that I had not eaten myself. Of course, he said yes. There I went, off to the kitchen as he sat at the dining table with the boys. And as I idly tended to the cooking and plating, I felt the strongest sadness in myself. This is who I am. This will always be who I am. It doesn't matter how shitty someone will treat you, you will never complain. Never fight. You will always care. You will always err on the side of kindness and consideration, like a chump. And I hated myself for that moment. I wished with every molecule in my body that I could be the spiteful and vindictive type, but I couldn't. I can't. I fed him. Made small talk. Hugged and kissed my kids goodbye. Felt the emptiness set in. I thought of all my exes right up to the most recent. All the men I've loved more than they ever loved me... you're fucking pathetic. You will never be enough. I buried myself under blankets and tried to hide from my own self. I didn't succeed. I went into work later that day, devoid of spirit. A fraying husk of a person. The whole evening, nothing but a handful of people. One regular, going through his own relationship woes offered commiseration. I was on autopilot. I smiled and responded with the most generic platitude I had at the ready. "Oh, you know. There's somebody for everybody. I just wasn't his somebody." I was ... blank. At some point, I realized I hadn't eaten the whole day. It was going on 9 pm. I forced myself to have a slice of pizza knowing that if I didn't, I'd get sick. The cook was rightly worried - I wasn't eating. I was always eating. Why wasn't I eating? I think I ate that one piece more to appease him than to put something in my belly. Another regular asked if I would do a shot with him. I usually don't. Drinking behind the bar isn't my gig. But I said yes. Out of spite for myself. I messaged a friend two short sentences. I am losing my defiance. I am losing my will. "You are stronger than that." I am not. "You. Are. Sure you're allowing yourself a moment of weakness, but you are." I didn't feel that to be true. But I knew arguing would lead nowhere and didn't bother to message back. Then, I once again stewed. I ran through all the times I had met adversity with my chin up. Shoulders squared. The countless instances I turned the other cheek. The ridiculous amount of pain and heartache I had suffered through thinking that in the end, it would be okay. As long as I continued to put good out into the world, I would be okay. What a fucking crock of bullshit. I felt the war within myself. The battle against becoming who I once was, who I strived to never be again. Cold, cruel, indifferent, unfeeling. Stone. By this point, everyone had left. It was just me and Johnny. Not everyone cares for him. He's a talker. In the grand scheme of things, he's not an angry drunk, he's almost always polite, and despite his tendency to have an opinion about everything under the sun, he has a good heart. There are far worse customers. I am not bothered by him. He called to me as I was cleaning, said he wanted to gift me something. He pulled that something out of his wallet and from where I was standing, it was square and shiny. For a second, I thought, There is no way this dude is trying to give me a f**king condom. Still, I was curious and walked over. It was a flattened chocolate wrapper. It had obviously been sitting in his wallet for quite some time. "Now," he started, still holding it gently in front of me. "it's not what it is, it's what's written on it. I'm going to show it to you and I'll leave it up to you if you want to take it. You can tell me 'No thanks, keep it' or you can have it. No pressure." He laid it down on the bar, some cheesy inspirational quote. On a tiny piece of foil that he had been carrying with him for who knows how long. And in that moment, I felt my eyes welling. I swallowed to clear the lump from my throat. Quietly, "I needed this. Thank you." He gave me a hug. Through a muffled sob, I managed to mumble, "It's been one hell of a week." There it was. The good grace of the Universe reminding me that kindness is necessary. Compassion is key. I remain soft. With no intent on changing.
But Otherwise Fine 