October 1, 2016

Tell you what.
Truth is, sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it.

See also

You don’t know how bad it gets.
I wish I knew how to quit you.

(Brokeback Mountain)

See also

You have been assigned this mountain to show others it can be moved.

&

When sleeping women wake, mountains move.

(Twitter and Buddha, respectively)

I have likened men to many things on here…superheroes, soldiers and saints.

And wolves
No shit random Facebook thingee….

I’ve made monsters of men and mountains out of memories. I’ve been torn apart.

The Hulk flew in from the west and we had wings. He had wings, I had a grilled cheese.

We were talking about me getting emotional (I had warned him I might cry when I saw him, like he needed to be told) and he said ‘I almost lost you there for a second, but you pulled yourself out of it.’

I totally did that. Came right back to the moment, the memory of what hurt me gone in a sip of cider, whispering Pogues and good company.

I just messaged him, said that I miss hanging out him (as opposed to talking online) because of how he listens. He is intent to the point that if I am telling a story about some boy being untoward, he frowns on my behalf. Smiles if I am happy.

So, last night I sat next to my past, I walked beside him on the right side of the street so he could hear me and he walked into my house and sat with me some more.

And it was good amen.

No tears, regrets or remorse.

I also realized in a blindingpowersurgetungstenilluminatinglightbulb moment staring at him in all of his good man glory that there is no point in looking back. As lovely as he is, I am not going that way.

I don’t have to move the mountains. I just have to get over them. They’re behind me now anyways. All the failures, the almosts, the stubbornness I showed staying in one place…it’s done.

I do know how to quit.

All I have to do is stop looking and keep moving.

Once upon a farm so dreary I would creep my hubby’s mistress’s Facebook looking for clues and finding them every damned time. I was obsessed, I looked every day, a few times a day.
One day I stopped. I didn’t do it in the morning when I got up. Fell off the wagon mid-afternoon and just did what Jane Says and tried again tomorrow. It’s been years and I could care less what she is doing, what they are doing. That part of my life is long gone. I am not even that girl anymore.

I did the same with the Poet’s page, looking for clues that I still existed to him. Sometimes I found them. Creeped Gelfling too. Answered the phone when Giant messaged.

If any of them were supposed to be here they would be and I am missing so much of my life walking backwards carrying mountains of memories.

Lessons have been learned in triplicate. Everything is archived here just in case it becomes important again. But I don’t think it will.

Those were all lessons on how to survive in the mountains. Climbing, falling, losing ground, avalanches and thin air. Nothing grows up there.

I realized two things yesterday.

1. I’ve actually been coming down the mountain slowly. I can see trees and lakes and valleys all lush and green. A cabin in the woods, a puff of smoke from the chimney.
2. I haven’t been walking alone lately either. My Sunshine has been with me.

She was home when the Hulk came by, she knows Hot Neighbor and Giant came to our house, she met the Thai Fighter too.
It makes a world of difference this, I am always so scared of forgetting that I carry all of them with me. But there is another person living who saw them, with me. They not just words on a page or memories of mine. They existed.

I made it down the mountain far enough that I can breathe again. I can feel the rush of oxygen to my brain.

Walking downhill is so much easier than climbing up.

Oh for a moment, what a moment this is. For a moment of forgetting is a moment of bliss.
~ Peter Gabriel

I sent Lumberjack a pic today with the caption “just in case you forgot what I look like” its been a while since we’ve seen each other.

His response? “Oh I’ll never forget.”

I smiled, I know exactly who I want to climb.

I sat down to write something, anything.

Ended up finishing something about the titans coming.
It’s a mess, but so am I so I’ll post it.

They came. 2/3. I survived.

I’m tired and drained this week. Just doing the basics has been hard. I set my alarm for 5:30 -6 every morning and I haven’t been able to get up, much less write.

Fall has come, without the colors and just brought the damp and the rain that I keep getting caught in.

Last night was a Black Moon.

This has various connotations and definitions.
Happens every 32 months or so.
I don’t have a Facebook flashback app for that.
3 years ago it looks like I was doing decidedly ‘okay’, but 4 months after that…
hmmmmm, January 2014…I was becoming.

Source Wikipedia

I wasn’t writing then. But I’d just had the idea to do so.
11 days earlier I had come back from Florida to find my house trashed, my dog sick and my plants dying.

I ended my last relationship.

For the reasons noted above.

I realized how capable I am, how I had really been doing everything on my own anyways and started giving myself some well deserved credit. And so began the journey of being comfortable in my own skin.

I started dating again, slowly, in the spring, March 30^th if memory serves (and it does). Always picking men that were temporary. I had developed an allergy to commitment. I was a stripper and was thereby technically disposable too. Long-term was a dirty word fraught with peril, bankruptcy both financial and emotional, sexless and mind numbing. Alone sounded like Nirvana, and all told, it has been.

Two Black Moons later, I had become smitten with someone else and I was losing him, except I never had him. He is numbered among the titans. We started dating 2 years ago right around (exactly) now and it just wasn’t meant to be. I saw him last  night. He’s back for a visit from the West.

We sat on my porch and I remembered loving him, I still do, he is a good man and a good friend.

Out loud, with him, I set my intentions.

I am not afraid anymore. It’s time.

He kept remarking on how happy I am.

It amazes me to see how much things have changed.

I am not the girl I was 3 years ago. I am her but version 4-point-oh-my-god look at us now.

I am smitten again. I am no longer a stripper and the idea of being nestled in a relationship with someone doesn’t make my skin crawl or break out in a rash. I have learned my lessons from relationships of yore and I no longer feel disposable, I am viable.

New Black Moon in Libra. Time to set intentions. Rob Brezsny http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/20160929.html came along and said…

Is it possible that you’re on the verge of reclaiming some of the innocent wisdom you had as a child? Judging from the current astrological omens, I suspect it is. If all goes well, you will soon be gifted with a long glimpse of your true destiny — a close replica of the vision that bloomed in you at a tender age. And this will, in turn, enable you to actually see magic unicorns and play with mischievous fairies and eat clouds that dip down close to the earth. And not only that: Having a holy vision of your original self will make you even smarter than you already are. For example, you could get insights about how to express previously inexpressible parts of yourself. You might discover secrets about how to attract more of the love you have always felt deprived of. 

That was the last time I cried this week.

I am feeling that drag back, the one that precedes launch.

I had this idea last week to try and define the relationship I am in. We have spoken every day for 90 days. See each other as often as we can, and ya, I am smitten. I have also re-evaluated what it means to be with someone, I have become irreplaceable, confident and I know, no matter what the outcome I will be alright, I always am.

I’m not going to say anything after all, just going to let it all ride on black.