February 6, 2016

I saw that ages ago, and again on Friday. I paraphrased a little, classed it all up (smirk)

“Ain’t no woman born who can make me jealous over a man whose face I have already sat on.”

Jesus I wish I had written that.

Been saying it a lot lately.

God is reusing extras in the movie of my life.

Leading man is back. Which is spectacular (the way Kevin Spacey says it).

It’s the fucking cameos by recently passed players that are punching holes in the plot.

Bobby didn’t die, the last year was just a dream. Come on. Seriously?
Resurrections galore. Some glorious and some gross.
Ghost stories are just fine, I do love a good haunting, but zombies are mindless rotting things that ought to stay down.

I don’t do jealousy. I also don’t cheat, steal or lie. I used to, so I know how that ends, not happily ever after at all. More like tied up and twisted.

Naked and free over here. I just love.

“Do what thou wilt and that shall be the whole of the law.” Aleister Crowley

I also don’t double dip.

Oh, I will open my arms, legs and mouth to receive my love, no matter where he has been nor how long he was gone. My heart doesn’t wander, she has found home and stays. My body however, has been known to scratch at the door wanting out and then in again and then out and then in.
The same lips that kiss and taste me are the ones that whisper ‘run’, the hands that hold me together are the same ones that open the door. He knows me and my intentions.

What I meant is I will never touch a man one of my girls has been touched by. Doesn’t matter if it was her heart or her body, a resounding ‘not mine’ and he quickly resembles a Ken doll in my head, nothing there.

Some days its hard being the sister of all women.
But then I remember how it felt to have an interloper in my marriage, someone I called friend.
And I cannae.

Case and point.

I had a couple of nice hang outs with a cute boy, he wrote me a poem, had a wicked grin, lovely vocabulary and made me smile. But, somewhere between playing drunken pool and sitting down for sober coffee I realized I had heard his stories before. Different perspective, same tales. Oh sweet baby Jesus. He belonged to my soul sister. Immediate shut down. I gotta go. I kept the poem though, it was lovely. I told him why and we parted ways. No great loss.

She is my moon and stars. Nothing is more important than her.

That being said, I will shut things down with any man over women I have never met.

The world is too big and beautiful to cut the grass of others. I don’t even like manicured lawns, they reek of domestication and chemicals, give me a meadow full of purple cosmos and wild weeds. I will play there.

Last week I had a date planned with a pretty boy who loves to talk about the universe. Messages me 3 hours before we are supposed to go out with a ‘dilemma’. I was thinking he hadn’t made resos for dinner. Turns out he had been out with a girl while I was away and wasn’t sure how she/I would feel about him hanging out with me. I commended his honesty, told him if he was worried about losing her he shouldn’t be going out with me. Suggested he talk to her about it, see where they were at. I recently made a daring escape from Relationshipland, no rush.

I figured he would cave if she said ‘just us’, wished him well. He messaged me today. They had the talk, she isn’t pushing exclusivity. This one wins the instant karma prize for good behavior. Dinner and dates with 2 girls he likes because he didn’t try to lie to either.

Then there is the bad, not the big bad, but pretty fucking bad.

Twice now I have had my hand forced by a mouth full of lies.
“I don’t really date much.” Except he was dating someone already, her name is Christine. She found out about me and dumped him a week after I knew about her. I had already walked away.
What pisses me off now is that now he is single and I can’t go near him because he lies.
Still,no great loss.

The last one was a tangled web of yuck. I have sent apologies and condolences to his not-exactly-just-a-room-mate-you-lying-fuck. He is now going for round two with another girl I know. She came to me looking for blessings or forgiveness or I don’t even know what, over explaining herself to the point I knew she was lying too.

Have at you sister. Enjoy the ride (he was a damn fine ride, crazy usually is).
My only advice? Don’t tell him where you live.
I lost sleep over that one, lost my sense of safety and my sanity a little bit. How did I swallow so many lies? I wasn’t alone, he had a lot of people fooled. It’s alright now.

I am done. I really am.

3 days later…

I was having Korean with a new friend, same circles, tons of mutual friends. It was some much needed me and her time. Eating kim-chi and yammering on about jobs, clothes, life, haircuts and of course, boys.

Innocent comment over some incense and I realize one of my old wants to be her new. Herein lies a dilemma…keep my mouth shut or give him a glowing recommendation? I told her how lovely he is but alas, she doesn’t double dip either.

I am not territorial. I spent 7 years defending what I thought was mine when I was married. The smarter thing would have been to walk the first time she left her marks on him and the bedroom wall. Lesson learned and carved into my bones in big deep letters. “RUN” and don’t look back. Also, we don’t own anyone ever.

I have slept with men that it would be a sin to not share with the world. My people are empaths and should feel the bliss of fucking their own kind.

I want to belong WITH someone, not to them. I want a love that comes to me out of wishes and wants.

I love this way, always.
I expect it in return.

My heart and soul are monogamous, my body is not.

Roam if you want to my love, my heart always be home.

 

This is the war and not the warning ~ 54-40

The pen is the sword ~ Unknown

Yellow doesn’t look good on me. Orange neither, especially not when it’s Orange Alert. That’s the color right before Red, means the hand is on the button, ready to drop bombs. Let it not come to that. Yellow, the color of cowardice, jaundice meaning the body is being toxified. Orange, reminds me of Agent Orange, someone in the war machine decided to poison everything so they could fight better. There is a sickness and a cancer here and it must be cut out before it spreads.

Let this end with a trade embargo. I ain’t buying your shit.

I tell all of my man-friends “Please don’t stick your dick in crazy”. And when they stick their dicks in the crazy chicks and it ends badly, which it always does, I am here to listen and console. I keep my “I told you so’s.” to a bare minimum.
Thankful for that because, ‘hey boys I let crazy stick it’s dick in me.’

Please don’t judge, just come get me.

Rally the troops.

I am in harm’s way.

I did the thing I warn against and got sucked into a riptide. Trying to roll with it but I am tired and I am scared. Life preserver please. Over there, to the left.

Scared isn’t a big enough word. Terror, yes, that one. I am terrified.

What am I new?

“What manner of man is this?” Bram Stoker’s Dracula

I love you Sarah, all of you.

You lead I follow.

Don’t change.

(All the things I wanted to hear)

(Then)

I’m going to need you to give up sleep, routines, job, any semblance of peace and normalcy in exchange for drama and feeding my ego. The only way I can feel any worth is to watch you change for me right in front of me.

Oh, “you can keep writing but only about me”.

Don’t talk to him or about him.

(All the things I have heard before)

No.

I have been down that road so many times the locals call me by name. “Come inside, have a cup of tea, meet the Missus” (Labyrinth). But there is no castle here, no goblin king, and no imaginary army of lovable misfits. Just poisoned fruit, control issues and this road just leads to purgatory. Spent years there, trying to farm in a desert and make a life with another Gemini who had no idea who I am, what I require, just wanted me on lockdown. Mine mine mine. Me me me.

No no no.

Never again.

The streets are lined with red flags. The words “You’re everything to me”, “You’re all I have” stitched into them. And the worst one, written in neon flashing lights colouring everything he said “You must continually prove to me that I am good enough for you by carving pieces off yourself, I’ll give you the knife.” (And another knife, and some brass knuckles and a baton)

Please let this be a cautionary tale.

If something sounds like it’s out of a movie. It probably is. If things don’t add up, it’s because the math is bad and you are trying to smell the number nine. Something rotten in Denmark? Get the fuck outta Denmark, retreat to a safe distance. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. Go home and lock the door, then add chain locks and get yourself on the fast-track transfer list. Stay with a friend. Duck and cover. Stop drop roll and tell an adult.

If he yells, he will yell again. If he uses your words against you he will do it again. If he lies he will lie again and again and again.

Run. Watch your six and run.

One month, everything escalated so quickly I didn’t see it. Standing in the forest missing the trees. Sucked into the dribbles of drama not realizing I was drowning in an ocean of it.

All of my energy systematically pulled out of me until I was actually physically sick from it. My body rebelling, my molecules needing me to stop. So I did.

The repercussions are immense.

I have to move.

Home is not safe right now.

Change my work schedule.

Change my number.

Change my life over letting the wrong man in my bed/life/house.

Mission accomplished, gold star. He made me change, just not the way he wanted.

Had to call a cop friend and suffer the embarrassment of a 41 year old woman who has been down this road before and spill it. “You know how I come across as this fairly intelligent woman with her shit together…well I am not.” I did the thing again. 15 years later. The whole ugly story. Sounds so ridiculous coming out of my mouth in a lump like that. But I swallowed the entire elephant, one fucking bite at a time. I didn’t realize what I was eating washing it down with crocodile tears.

I have my pride, but survival is more important. I threw up the elephant and swallowed said pride.
Said out loud “I really fucked up and I really need help.”

Oh the irony, that is all I was trying to do, was help. Now I need it.

“How many times are we going to do this Sarah?” This is the second. The first time ended as badly as anything could end. With police reports and court. Bruises and hospitals. Rape and break-ins. At least I know better now, mostly. I got out in time.

My boys came, reinforced doorways added locks to keep me safe(r). Screenshots, collected printed and sent to safe places. Photographs of weapons I never wanted, archived. Gathering Intel only. Recon in hopes I don’t have to go to war. Forces on standby. Foxholes dug, plans made. Harbours in the tempest. Usually my job to be the warm, safe place. I have many and I am grateful for my small army, the army of me.