Friday
I have to inform the probation office on Monday.
I'm still excited to be on my own. I'm sad that I'm being rushed out. My son will say I should have stayed with Capt A, as he provided for me. My daughter will feel, without actually acknowledging her role in it, that it's all being blamed on her.
I can't tell my parents. Not yet, anyway. I won't tell Oddity or Temptation or any of my friends, really. I hate this drama and it feels that's all I've been doing lately is generating drama. I have no one objective to talk to - no, wait, there's the coven Elders. But I don't know; they have drama of their own to work through.
So all I have right now is this blog. I feel lost and scared. I don't know who of the people I've invited to read the blog actually reads it. So I'll say this: I don't want you, Oddity, or you, Temptation, to come to my rescue. I don't want any rescue. I've had enough of that. Just be there for me when I need you.
That which does not kill me makes me stronger.
How do people do it? How can they keep it all organized? I can't keep track of the parties and the bills and the payments and the appointments and the deadlines and the people.
I'm in pain, psychic and emotional and physical. I need it to stop. just stop.
Shake off the rain and dry off
And come inside tonight
You don't have to be alone
You don't have to be, love
You've got the prettiest face that I ever did see
With eyes so sad
Like songs I swear I've known
And I hope to God that you're not pretending
Cause if you are I swear I don't know
What I'm gonna do
But I promise you that I'll be good to you
If you promise that you'll try to love me too
Somehow
(Chorus)I'd steal a hundred kisses
Before you'd say goodbye
And then make a hundred wishes
In the name of you and I
Cause what we have is secret
So don't let no one know
The past can't come between us if we both just let it go
Today's the perfect day
Today's the day I tell you, oh
If you ever walk away
Then I would die right there for you
Give me your every breath and promise me your world
I don't ask for much at all
All I want is all you've got
Could you be that girl
Are you thinking of me
Or have I projected all of my hopes on you
And I know there'll be nights filled with tears
I know that there'll be fights and fears
But that's a part of it too
So do you think I have the slightest chance to be
Everything to you
Cause you mean everything to me
(Chorus)I'd steal a hundred kisses
Before you'd say goodbye
And then make a hundred wishes
In the name of you and I
Cause what we have is secret
So don't let no one know
The past can't come between us if we both just let it go
Today's the perfect day
Today's the day I tell you, oh
If you ever walk away
Then I would die right there for you
For you
I can hear Oddity in this song. I can hear me, too, the same sentiments. Are you the one? You mean everything to me.
Tuesday
He came again. He came early, straight from work. My future roomie and her little boy were over; I had cooked them dinner and we were sitting out in the porch and my eldest called to shoot the breeze and share some triumphs with me. And he walked up around the corner, and I caught my breath in wonder and surprise. I felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotional input - he was here, my daughter on the phone, my friend next to me...
He played with my future roomie's little boy as we chatted. They were chasing and catching fireflies after playing fetch with my dog. I had to hang up on my eldest, because I could not sustain a conversation. Then my future roomie left, and I fed him the dinner I made. It was very nice to have this moment to ourselves, just to talk. My youngest came home and also ate of my dinner - I had cooked for and fed everyone! - and then we sat in the living room (it's seen more use this evening than it has in the six months!) and played a drawing game. It was wonderful.
I called my eldest and found that she had been granted a scholarship and will be going to training to get a supervisory/managerial position at a prominent social service agency. I am SO VERY FREAKING PROUD OF HER.
He and I talked, sharing stories, as we got ready for bed. Then, quiet time, as we lay together, huddled, cuddling. Then the kissing became serious. Emmanuel's old song "Tu y Yo" spun in my head as this progressed: "Tu y yo un ramo de imagenes/tu y yo una simple formula/tu y yo caminan las hadas de aqui para alla/tu y yo un nido de pajaros/tu y yo llegando el silencio/tu y yo se forma una pagina/tu y yo haciendo una fabula/tu y yo jugamos un verso/ sin comas si reglas/sin tiempos ni acentos/dejamos la noche crecer/comiensan los besos/hacer un intento/la luna es mas grande que ayer/se unden mis manos a cada momento/encuentro una flor eres tu/me siento tan cerca te siento tan dentro/te miro en un rayo de luz/tu y yo la flor y la fabula/tu y yo el nido de un aguila/tu y yo una simple formula/tu y yo la luz ha nacido ya/tu y yo el sol viene entrando/deslizas tus pasos y el dia se queda/testigo de lo que paso/despues tu sonrisa mirando el espejo/recuerdas tu primer amor/es una aventura rozar tu rodilla/estoy acercandome a ti/te entregas y olvidar tirado en el suelo/un verso que hiciste de mi/tu y yo la flor y la fabula/tu y yo el nido de un aguila/tu y yo una simple formula."
It's simple. I love him. I love being near him. I love everything he does, even when he's unreasonably stressed. Everything seems brighter, better, sweeter, around him. I feel validated, justified, worthy, alive, real, loved. He's everything.
This morning was sweet; I love waking him up this way. And this is me, hating morning sex.... Then we got around to breakfast and getting ready for work. I look forward to the day this becomes commonplace, but I will never lose this delight.
As we walked out to his car, he passed me a note. It read:
Have a beautiful day. You are my princess. I love the way you hold me. With you I feel loved. Your smile lights up my life. And I know you really care. My heart is beating for you. You are my love, my special friend.
I haven't stopped smiling. I open it and read it almost every fifteen minutes. I am blessed to have met him, blessed that he loves me. Now if only the rest of my life would fall into place like this..
Monday
He said, last night, that he was itching to see me... and that he could be here in 40 minutes. He WANTS to see me. He WANTS to be with me. He WANTS to share things with me.
Where has he been all my life?
Was it so hard for anyone else to do that? Capt A came very close; up until his computer took his attention away from me, he wanted to spend time with me.
This is the sort of thing you dream about as a teenager, someone whose impulse is to be with you. The person whose world becomes defined by their love of you, just as your world becomes defined by him. Not obsessive, but impulsive, where your thoughts turn to the other, and hope their day goes well, and wishes they could see you. The kind that anticipates going home at night to see them. The world is brighter because they're in it. Life is beautiful, because they love you.
I've paid my dues. I deserve a love like this. I deserve a heart that beats in tandem with mine. I will work for this to last. Thank you, Oddity!
Sunday
(This was written for the Lord Dragon many many years ago. Some elements here are still true, but age has rendered my self-awareness much more vivid, and I know I am real. I exist. But this was my life for years and years.)
I'm frustrated. I want to understand your philosophy. I want to see how it shapes you, your reactions; how to make sure I am a part of what you are. But your philosophy isn't ME. THIS IS ME (jump/run/climb a tree) and this is me (hang upside down and kiss you thoroughly) and this (pull up, drop from branch, roll, ouch) pain be damned. It's how I know I exist. Physicality. I'm frail, a wisp of nothing, fragile. I don't believe I exist.. I don't exist except in the eyes and minds and reflections.... and in the world of movement and feeling.
I crave attention, for then I know I exist. I am vain, looking into every mirror, becasue it proves I'm physically there. When someone loves me, I know I exist. I'm real. When I hurt - and I hate pain - I know I exist. I know I'm alive. When I am moving, I can forget having to prove I exist, for then I'm alive, I'm real, I am Myself. I'm no longer fragile or will 'o'the wisp or frail when I'm moving - dancing, blading, biking, walking, running, playing Kung Fu. I'm alive, I'm strong, I'm vigorous. The feeling of translating music to movement with my body, the awareness of motion, of rhythm, of sound and fury and joy within my body - I am REAL. When you make love to me, I am alive. I can feel you, sense you, taste you, and I know you acknowledge my existence. I thrill to be alive to the touch of you, the smell and taste of you, your sounds, your breath, your body.. they become the boundaries of my existence, the proof that I am real, not a dream.
Around my children, I'm not real. I'm someone called Mommy. Around my parents, I'm a Daughter, and not the one they wanted. Around certain people I just don't feel real. I don't exist for them, in my mind. When I'm alone, I can be at peace so long as I'm moving. When I stop, I doubt my existence. I doubt myself; I'm no longer real.
Why do you love me? I'm nothing but a fantasy, unreal, a dream that will dissipate with the cold light of morning - it sounds so insulting, as if you would accept a dream instead of a real person. But my reality is caught up in sensation, in physicality, in touch and motion. The perception always there, unshakeable, that this is all just a game, nothing matters, nothing is real. Sometimes I'm just an actor, playing a role whose purpose was forgotten a long time ago.
"And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'll understand/When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am..." Iris, GooGoo Dolls.
He came over, we went to dinner, we came back and sat around talking (with my daughter); we got ready for bed. We spoke for a while, we made out, we played, we slept. Sleeping on the floor is uncomfortable and we're both over 40. But still, we were together for a little while, in each other's arms, inhaling the same air.
When we're together it feels like we're younger. "Whenever I'm alone with you... you make me feel like I am young again... However far away, I will always love you" The Cure. This morning we did more and completed... I love knowing I can do that to him. I feel a quickening inside of me when I sense his reactions to what I do.
It's going to be a long hard winter while we're living in different cities.