It still manages to find a way to creep in.
I got sick last weekend. Sick is a relative term. I didn’t get a cold, but an infection. Took a pill for the infection, and used a cream topically that I have had a severe allergic reaction to. Possibly due to the cortisone in it. (I go into steroid psychosis when taken orally so they have a big red flag on my medical chart)
I don’t want to go into great detail, because it is so ever-loving gross. My doctor didn’t call me back today so I’m pretty sure my mother is going to take me to the ER tomorrow and ya know what? I’m going to let her.
Mr Yummy knows a little, but not really. I don’t want him to see me like this, so I haven’t told him, like I am not telling you, any graphic details. At the same time, I would give anything to be able to be brave enough to say to him, “I need you and some TLC, will you please come be with me some?”
I haven’t called my best friend, because I don’t want to worry her, with all the shit she lives with daily…I don’t want her worrying about me.
I haven’t told my New York daughter, because she is off living her life. I tried to say something on Facebook to her, but she didn’t get that I am scared like I haven’t been in a long time. It sucks, because I need a friend right now, and there are none to be found, but then…I haven’t let any of the specifically know what is going on, so I guess that is my fault
I used to say I am a liberal, then progressive, and now I just strive for aware.
I used to say I am Chicana and Indian, then Mexican and NDN or Native, and now I just say I am an indigenous human being.
I used to say I was a kid, then youthful, then a grown up, and now I just think of myself as a student.
I used to say I was a daughter, sister, mother, now I just think of myself as spirit, housed in a female body.
I used to vibrate at an angry, fearful and, hateful level. It was so painful. It kept me isolated from who I am and what I am meant to do and be. Now I live in love. It too can be painful at times, but I am no longer isolated and I am living with an intent I never knew I could possess.
I used to say, think and, believe, “I can’t”. Now I believe I can, so I do.
There is a line in a song, it reads like this:
Love, was never meant for me. True love, was never meant for me. Seems somehow, we never can agree.
I honestly felt that, the first 47 years of my life. (Bonus points, if you know the artist, song, and album)
I have been crazy, abnormal, fucked up, abandoned, hateful, abused, abusive, lost in what seemed like never-ending hurt. I have been medicated, desperate enough to feel good, that I checked into a psych ward. I have been hopeless, defeated, and accepting of it all.
The only thing I ever worry about is that I actually might be just crazy. It still amazes me that I went from such hate, to such love. I wonder if I am just tricking myself into a state of…placebo. Make sense?
When it comes down to it, I don’t really care, because I am living the kind of life I always told myself I was not capable of doing. If this is crazy, then I am OK with it.
I DO believe the shit I spew to you. I AM love and life is meant to be good.
Do I have everything I want? No
Do I think I ever will? It depends on how limitless I can let myself be, or if I will hang onto the few roadblocks I am aware of.
Does the fact people I love won’t accept me, stop me from loving them? No, it probably makes me love them more unconditionally. Is it hard to love a person who could care less if I took another breath? Sometimes, because it hurts to love without the return, but then at other times, it feels good to love someone in spite of that. There is still a joy at loving someone, because I love them.
Am I crazy? Yeah, probably, but there is such sanity in it for me.
I can sit here, pause, look out my window to see the trees, the birds in them, the sky, which leads beyond to the Universe. I know I am a part of every single part of it, both good and bad, and I can feel love and be love.
You know what?
OK with that.
Lots has been going on the last few weeks. It has been sort of difficult for me because although it’s not my drama, life has been full of it lately. Much of it I am obligated to not talk about right now. We are waiting on some things to happen before I can un-mums.
I went to my friend Michael’s Seafood Festival. I took Mr. Yummy and I had a good time. I drank a lot (for me) and ate a lot of seafood. For me that is rare also, because I am sort of grossed out at what we as humans, have done to the sea. ::green face::
I stayed an extra night at Mr. Yummy’s house after the Seafood Fest. I used to wonder if I was remembering him (us) wrong. I was telling myself it was all just a fluke, that all these years later, he couldn’t play me like his own instrument.
Yeah, not so much. He’s not just a fluke, and I wasn’t remembering incorrectly. He just does for me, that thing that no one else could ever do. I figured a lot of my old hangups out on my own, and I shared a few of them with Mr. Yummy. I think I had to in order to leave them behind. He just said, ” Oh the mind of a woman…”. And oh how true that is. I let my own thoughts, brain, wiring, get in my own way for so many years. I am happy to have moved away from that sort of thinking and reacting I used to do.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to write about the latest drama soon. I need it to be over and to move beyond it. It sucks watching other people cycle with it though. For them, it is inevitable.
Happy weekend. Pass on the love.
After all these years, I am almost ashamed that I crammed so many of the wonderful essences that make you, you, into a dark corner of my mind and literally tried to forget them. I think it was because it hurt too much to see what I wasn’t ready for, and
walked ran away from.
But I couldn’t have totally forgot, because I knew that I loved you like no other, knew that I never would find what I had with you, with another, and never got over you. I mean NEVER. Not a single day went by that I didn’t think of you. Sometimes I would become wistful, others, hurt, others, angry, but always there was love.
I’ve just come home from you. You are by now on your motorcycle, heading East and I am at home, smelling you and your shower on me in the most delicious way. My heart feels so full, like it’s dripping just for you and me. My eyes are moist and I have this urge to just let it go and escape as the residual effects of you, course through me.
Does any of this make sense? And will I ever tell you of these moments, or let you know of these privately public musings of you? You make my whole body tremble, and I always finish by kissing your third eye. Do you notice this?
Did I have to fall in love with humanity as a whole, in order to able to have this falling in love with you? Even though I never totally fell out of love with you? It could remain unspoken for eternity, and I would still know it. I see how you look at me, and feel how you touch me, in the simplest acts; like bandaging my finger after cracking crab, or how you wash me in the shower. Ever so tender, loving, and attentive.
There is still a small part of me that is scared shitless, because you make me want it all. I don’t mean the dress and the name, but I mean your heart and your soul; forever. Till the day your body, or my body takes the last breath. Even then, I will continue loving you, and I know this. I’m not so much scared that you will never feel the same, it’s more so the absence of the fear of believing that I don’t deserve you or you will find out somehow I am a fraud. I know that I have shown you who I really am. This, feels rather ballsy, for lack of a better word.
I remain so fucking grateful.
As I was with Mr Yummy last week, shit was unfolding at home and with my sister.
SOMEONE, we both know who, found a way in her iPhone, put a key logger on her computer, has accessed her checking account, charged on her credit, and sent out a video, texts, and emails from her accounts online. I’ve had to close a checking, am getting a new phone today with a completely new sound card and IP, and will be either getting an OS to put on my laptop, or I’ll just get a new laptop.
We know where this originated, but we both belong to a phone company that has you contact fraud via snail mail. Thankfully my sister’s friend who is also having to do all this same stuff, belongs to a cell phone carrier that had all the legal stuff he needs to walk into a courtroom, within 24 hours.
We re-keyed the apartment last Thursday. I came home from Mr. Yummy’s and then work and there was my apartment door, WIDE open and a man I didn’t know was repairing my hot water tank. To make matters worse, it was super hot, I was super tired, hung over (rare), hungry, and over-sexed. All I wanted to do was eat my fish and chips, and take a cool shower. Instead I wound up looking for the cat, and trying not to be a total bitch about the water tank being done five days early, without notification of change or warning someone would be in my pad.
Last week, I didn’t realize how stressed out I was over all of this till I got to Mr. Yummy’s, had a few drinks, and he asked if I was relaxed. I was. He took me for a ride on his bike. It was very nice and my favorite part of it was his hand on my leg as we drove in the sun. He said he only felt me at first. It took me a few to find my pelvis. The last time I was really on anyone’s bike, was the face-breakers in 2010, and he scared me, because he was a dickish driver in order to make a passenger hold on. Mr. Yummy isn’t. He was very specific about ways to hold him on his bike. The words, “There’s already beeswax on my foot-pegs” were said that night.
I told him last week that he still loves me. He sighed and whispered in my ear that I was probably right. I told him I was right, and I know he loves me. He is transparent that way to me.
Well I better make my coffee for work. I’m happy it is Friday. I really need some time to relax.
I hope to sit and process the last seven days when I have another moment to breathe. Last night was just a night of reigning in some of my scattered energy.
And I am awake and crying, because I love my life and the people in it.
Last night…or what was Thursday night, I stayed at Mr. Yummy’s house. I watched the remake of True Grit (EXCELLENT MOVIE!!!), he made me dinner, and then we played an amazing game of Shag and Gag. HAHAHAHAHA, yes, I just typed that and although I won’t go into details he and I are amazing.
We ALWAYS had that. We were always good there. He’s the only guy who can consistently make me feel so beautiful in the intimacy we share. He pushes me to really great places, and since we first came together in 2000, we are even better.
I am so thankful that I will never be the person I was in my past. I am so thankful that I learned to be happy with me, before we started seeing one another again. I know that I will love him till this body takes her last breath. I have always loved him, and I have always been “his”. This thing I feel for him, transcends marriage, but I am his in every way that the state and church can never touch. Does that make sense?
He’s my huckleberry. He’s always been my huckleberry, and he’ll always be my huckleberry. I find it very fitting that every time I arrive he has prepared for me a Doc Holiday, made with 360 Huckleberry Vodka.