This is where I have been trying to live more and more. So much of my life has been living in the past. Lately I examine it, absorb something, and move on. Granted this thing with the old boyfriend has sent me spinning. I am not spinning out of control like I used to.
He has said to me a few times, “It’s in the past, move on.” I mostly do, but in some areas, it is important that I see things as they were, be it that I came across as incredibly insensitive, or he hadn’t fallen out of love with me when I thought he had. In a way I need to process those small details and rewire the thinking of my brain.
At the current here and now moment, I am hot flashing. It starts kind of deep in the core of my body and radiates out. Hot flashes are unlike any kind of heat I have known. They are not like a fever, nor heat stroke, nor being in stifling heat, nor sitting in an oven. It is more like…becoming the oven from the inside out, quickly followed by being really cold where ever there happens to be beads of perspiration, which with me, is oddly enough the inside of my elbows, and the backs of my knees, as well as my hairline. It’s a party not having a period anymore. The one good thing now about the flashing, is I know WTF is happening. The first one really sent me spinning since I had gone 9 months, no period, and no hot flashes. No way did I have this one in the bag.
As of the first of the month, I become one of the 7 bazillion insured. I am not sure how I feel about this yet. Obviously, needing bi-annual blood draws, and monthly medication for a dead thyroid gland, will be nice to have covered, but I am wondering if I will wind up paying out-of-pocket for my medication anyway, since I don’t want synthetic thyroid replacement. I’m really not down with pharmaceuticals. I hope as I go further into my menopause I totally STOP having migraines. I hope to never have to take another migraine pill, but I still have ONE hidden in my purse, just in case. I stopped taking antidepressants not too long after this old boyfriend and I broke up, because they weren’t fixing anything. I felt worse. I felt numb, disconnected, sad, and foggy. That was letting the doctors do it their way. It took me a long time to lose the edge of fog. It has been about 13 years since I have had an antidepressant. I never had any benefit outweigh the side effects. Simply for me, not worth it. I needed to feel a lot of shit. That is just me. To not deal with it really did paralyze me and I can see that now.
I am motivated in totally different ways now.
I don’t have to be that “I can do it alone!” woman. I don’t have to play the part of something I am not to make myself appealing to another human being. The right human being will love me for the simple fact we connect in that certain way. I don’t want to be shared, but I don’t want to be owned.
I want to be. You know. BE.
I don’t want to be the person someone else wants me to be. I’ve mostly tried that before. There were two people who saw the total raw me back then, who accepted me as I was, but in all other cases, I have tried to be this woman others have seen me as. For the last two years, I have been who I am. I don’t need to explain that, because it is right with me. I know what I put out there into the Universe EVERYDAY. I also know what I used to put out, and they aren’t the same frequencies at all.
I like living in the present, the now. It used to seem so hard when I was letting my past haunt me. I didn’t know how to just be. I also know what love smells like now. I smell it everyday. I can smell it lingering on my clothes and in the air around me. It is a good thing, and I don’t necessarily think myself totally bat-shit crazy anymore. This whole new way of being has just grown on me, probably because life got so much more peaceful for me.
It’s not up to me to judge anyone, and it is not really up to me to judge myself, but to just live in a way resonates happily in my heart and soul. I still believe I deserve nothing less than love, as do you. I may not type it everyday, but I put it out there, every single day. This stuff is free! Don’t let anyone tell you different.
How strange it was to find the old writings I have. So much still holds true. Strange to read my old way of looking at the worst to come. It still felt like if I slipped my foot in the pant-leg, the whole thing would fit. It scared me. Scared me real good.
I was able to really take that out, and EXAMINE it. It touched me some, but I decided it isn’t the right way for me to abruptly turn after so much in my life, prior to this and him, fit perfectly. I don’t want to change that or rekindle old negative shit.
Some things should take time, be examined, then jumped into…or not.
I CAN breathe. I can continue playing with Universe and not fear my own back-step.
I knew that I had saved this, I was just sure that it was lost in the storage unit burglary since I haven’t seen it. I just decided to go through an old photo album and there it was, in the very back with something I wrote about “us” when I was trying to get beyond what we went through in 2006.
I am momentarily wrecked.
Life might be short, but I am glad that we are going slow. For us, anything beyond “Hello” is slow.
The first time we dated, he was taking me home after the first date. He looked at me and said, ” I really want to turn my truck around and take you home with me.” I looked at him and asked, “Well, why aren’t you?” We were together till the day I went to Alaska. I instantly moved in with him. I instantly fell in love with him. I instantly wished I had my child with him. I instantly wanted the brass ring and everything promised in fairy tales.
I have never in my life have loved anyone like I love him. Never in my life, have I ever felt so loved by anyone like I felt from him. Even through all of my insecurities and heartaches back then, he would look at me with such a soft, moist and loving look, it used to scare the shit out of me.
He told me the reason he is scared shitless, is because once we were intimate, we were inseparable. He’s right. He never left my side. He was emotionally confused by all of the manifestations of my life trauma, but he never left my side, and I had never seen that because I felt so emotionally abandoned by him. It is dawning on me how intensely he will love me again and I am glad we haven’t just fallen into bed. We started in 2000, in bed. We reconnected again in 2002 in bed, we were an “affair” in 2005/2006. He was the one with someone else, and I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted what I let go and KNEW was supposed to be “mine”. I’ve never called us an affair before, but I bet that is exactly how she saw it. I know his daughter saw it that way, she called me at work and told me to “stay the fuck away from her family!” I was devastated because I loved her as much as I could love someone else who wasn’t my daughter. In my fantasy…she was happy for us.
There is a lot of water under our bridge and for the first time, we have talked about things. I had a lot of shit going on then and was an open wound. Seeing as much, he loved me anyway, and tried to keep his shit that he was going through, to himself. I believe he was protecting me, as well as being private about his own struggles.
I have always loved him, and will always love him. I am sure, he is the love of my life. We have talked about being together again, wondering if we will be as good? (and knowing instinctively, yes!) The funny thing is, we actually have decided that the first time we sleep together again, we are not going to sex one another. We both have the desire to cuddle, like we used to. We would sleep together like Velcro. I would throw my leg over his body, he would wrap an arm around my leg and we were one. “Leg-up baby!”
He told me the other night he would listen to our breathing sync up, then sometimes fall out of sync. I would listen to that, and his heart, because my head was always on his chest.
He did answer my soul question. He was referring to the music/lyric I was sharing with him which translates the person I am inside. He still touches me in places no one else has ever reached.
Life just got a little sweeter. I’m scared, because you need to look before you leap, still waters run deep…but this is worth leaping and trusting the net will appear.
Now, I feel bricks and things falling around me. As this happens, I have that familiar feeling of falling veils again.
How will I ever explain this without sounding like a nut?
He said to me that “You keep reminding me of your soul.”
He does not know the impact that statement had on me. He does not know the connections I have made with my soul and how beautiful I find that connection to the human part of my soul or your soul…or HIS soul.
I sent him a picture and text saying I was just checking in, thinking of him and I hope he is well, (He just had a sudden death of a close friend and was processing it, I was trying to let him do that and let him know I was also there if he needed anything.) It’s an old picture, almost taken after he and I split. I took it with a crappy old webcam in a poorly lit area, and yet I love the picture. I was shooting for the old brown and white style graduation pics of my mother’s generation where the “girls” were bare shouldered and usually had “touch-up pink lips”.
A few hours later, he responded saying “That picture it worth 2000 words…made me cry. You’re beautiful.” During our text, I had sent him a link to A Beautiful Mess video (Live in Chicago), we were talking emotion, and he mentioned my soul. He mentioned to me he was melting a little. I, on the other hand was like a totally melted pot of sweet honey filled beeswax.
How can I still be so totally bonded to him in this way fourteen years later? This would be why, each relationship since him, made me miss him all the more, and when breaking up with others, I would completely re-mourn the loss of us.
This IS, the person for me.
This IS the one I’ve been waiting for.
This IS the one who makes the human part of my soul feel like the other half has come home.
This IS part of the experience that brings down residual shit, and veils fall again.
This is indeed, a beautiful mess and I am grateful to have had the last 2 years and three months.
I am ready for this.
I’m the woman who is happy playing with beeswax for eight hours of my day, five days a week.
It’s kind of strange, my life is so much simpler now and I am so much happier. I don’t put the same pressures on myself that I have done for so long. I don’t expect myself to be perfect, because I accept that I am perfect, as I am at all times. That is not ego or narcissism speaking…more just acceptance that creation, is perfect.
I am a creation, you have to give me that.
I’ve staggered and felt held (down) back on my path, but I never was tempted to leave it and run in a more immediately gratifying direction, just to be moving. Wouldn’t you know it? I woke up one day and that high, is back. I have not entered into that state of extacy (a friend calls it, Grace), but I can not stop weeping at beauty and love.
I want to hang onto this, and drink this in. I want to stay in the here and now with this, and I want to share it, and that is one of the hardest things to do. Even my New York daughter admitted to me when I first went crazy, that she too thought I had flipped my lid and finally gone over the edge into bat-shit nutty.
I process several hundred candles a day. It gives me a lot of time to think and listen to music. As I process my candles, I don’t allow myself to think negative thoughts. There is something about working with the beeswax, touching it, smelling it in it’s pure least processed form, that does something to me.
Some days. like today…it is hard to not sit there and weep as I process and listen to my music. The last three days I have been listening to Jason Mraz. I just tossed six of his discs onto my phone and I have been in love song heaven, reflecting on the last fourteen years of my life.
My reflections have not been the dwelling in the past type, but the recognition of how far from damaged I have come. I can look at my “failures, mistakes and flaws” with compassion, love and understanding of myself. This is something I was never able to do before.
In talking to him, whose name is sacred on my lips…I have seen so much of myself from back then in ways I just wasn’t able to see then. It has hurt my heart to comprehend that not only did I hurt the one person I have ever really been MADLY in love with, but he was MADLY in love with me when I did it. This makes me want to cry for us both, but we are talking again. I admitted I had two things on my bucket list. 1) getting published and 2) Making things right with him. He replied to me that things are right between us.
I have admitted that “part of me” never stopped loving him. It seemed like a “kinder blow” than telling him I have remained in love with him all these years and not a day has passed that I haven’t longed for him in some way. I admitted I am a little scared, but haven’t spilled the WHY I am scared. He came back and admitted that it took him a lot to get over us and move on (crushing blow to the belief he had fallen out of love with me already) and that he would be a “liar, liar pants on fire”, if he didn’t admit he is scared shitless.
So we both have feelings and I imagine if I am dealing with the love thing, he is at least contemplating the “what if” of it all.
And so I weep again because in my heart of hearts, I believe it to be true, that here we are, we played in the dirt, and I am hoping beyond hope that it will have been worth the wait.