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Sarah?

Yes darling.

You get this look in your eyes sometimes when you are looking at me.

Like what?

Like, um, like you want to eat me.

(I smiled, bit his neck before whispering in his ear…)

Oh honey, it’s because I do.

Biker Body Pillow pointed out recently that I have a thing for boys with purdy mouths.

Oh honey, it’s because I do.

He has an amazing, next level grasp of the obvious. He takes my words, my moods and adds them to my patterns, subtracts the optimism and tells me what I need to hear, bless him. This comment served to remind me of times where I’ve made similar exclamations.

I’ve joked about wanting to build a summer home in Matt Damon’s mouth, somewhere tucked in the back of his left cheek. He has such a beautiful smile, changes his whole face into something ethereal.

I think BBP has noted this because Once upon a Gelfling…
Jesus wept that boy had lips to die for.
Trouty-pouty mouth. Sadly home to a tongue dripping with honey-coated lies. I ate those up too, who wouldn’t? I’d have sucked poison from his bottom lip quite gladly. In retrospect I think I did. But I didn’t die.

BBP was the antidote to my lovesickness then, and is Gelfling’s boss now, wouldn’t have met him otherwise.

So there is that then.

The opening paragraph is about neither of them.

Just one more jaunt into the past and I will bring it back around.

Once upon the 90’s I had a fucked up semblance of a relationship. My coping album was Holly MacNarland ‘Stuff’.

It contained such lyrics as …

Maybe I’m a coward, but I’m only scared of you. (Coward)

Didn’t mean to close the door, oh my personal whore. (Elmo)

Wake up dead man, can’t you see I’m starving. (Numb)

Summed the relationship up nicely. It wasn’t very nice.

She had another song on that album.

Porno Mouth

He’s got a porno mouth, got a porno grin

All the sighs.

Told you we’d get back here.

I have a very hard time keeping my hands/mouth to myself with this one.
Oh god that porno grin.

I am a writer, a dealer of words, a master of descriptions, I can transport you to where I am and have you join me in your mind’s eye, but for the life of me I cannot adequately describe what it is like to watch this boy smile.

Except to say it looks like summer feels, full of opportunity and warmth. It looks like the perfect arcs of sacred geometry and feels like the afterglow of an orgasm.

‘I tasted him and realize I’m starving.’

I’m ravenous. Ima sex-eater after all and pickings have been markedly slim.
Truth be told, I wasn’t looking to harvest.
I was fasting again, to get closer to god, but he wasn’t paying attention to my piousness.
Just like anyone with hypoglycemia I don’t notice I am crashing till I’m almost on the ground.
Hits me harder in the winter, my sun-eating and the prolific amounts of sex I tend to have in the summer keeps me floating.

But its winter now and I am hungry.

“For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt.” Mumford and Sons

I watch this one almost obsessively and he knows it. I stare at his profile and watch the perfection of the curvature where his lips meet his cheeks. I feel like I’m being creepy, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When he catches me that grin gets maddeningly wider and impossibly more delicious. I am fixated and fascinated by the way he corners of his mouth pull away just so and expose the most perfect, sharp white teeth. All the better to bite me with. His wit matches his teeth. The words that roll of his tongue are akin to the petal soft bow of his lips…sweet and soft with a certain wickedness, strength and gentleness contained within.

I was talking to my girl the other day. She doesn’t like the way her boy kisses her, says it’s all pecks and nibbles, she wants to be consumed.

Not me, what she described sounds like bliss, when you can feel someone smiling while they kiss you, the hummingbird dance, hovering, lingering, then darting away just to come right back for more. Tasting, touching and teasing. The time for consuming comes and I let it.

We are star-crossed methinks. I cannot stake claim here and build anything, not even a summer home in the spaces between when we kiss. I will nibble and consume until I can’t anymore.

S’okay, for now I am sated.

One of my mamawolves put out a distress call late last night.

I was holed up in a hotel room in West Virginia, 5% battery on my phone, charger locked in the car. 11pm, 9 hours of driving down with 9 more to go.

You okay?

No

Uppit muppet, let’s go. I can sleep in the car tomorrow.

She lives so fucking far away. There is protocol for this.
Pajamas.
Tea in the kitchen.
Beyoncé’s Lemonade album.
Whiskey and pizza with Sex and the City marathon in the background.

But I can’t get there. So I sat up and watched the dancing dots and tried to siphon some of her pain away through the ether.

It could have been 4am and I could have been deep in the throes of having tantric sex with Channing Tatum’s twin in a little villa in Costa Rica with a symphony playing in the background and I would’ve said “hold up, I gotta check on this woman.”

The only collective chuckle we had during our conversation was when we both agreed 2016 was our best sex ever year and everything else really sucked.

Funny because it’s true.

She has rescued me when I have fought the monsters and made sure I did not become them nor succumb to them.

Her voice is so soothing she could make the Nuremberg rally speeches sound like lullabies.

She is logical, sweet and kind.

And she is having a rough year.

She likened herself to a laboratory bunny undergoing some massive, painful testing by some monster upstairs.

I know that punch drunk feeling. Struggling to get up just to get knocked down one more time, in new, viciously creative and terrible ways.

To scream into the abyss “ENOUGH”, just to have to hit back and say ‘not yet’ with a low evil chuckle.

I found myself loosely quoting O Brother Where Art Thou to her.

You seek a great fortune, you [ ] who are now in chains. You will find a fortune, though it will not be the one you seek. But first… first you must travel a long and difficult road, a road fraught with peril. Mm-hmm. You shall see thangs, wonderful to tell…

And, oh, so many startlements. I cannot tell you how long this road shall be, but fear not the obstacles in your path, for fate has vouchsafed your reward. Though the road may wind, yea, your hearts grow weary, still shall ye follow them, even unto your salvation.

I believe this to be true.

The only way out is through.

I also quoted Winston Churchill if you are going through hell keep going.

I’m not speaking from something I learned in a book or saw on TV. She’s having a parallel to a dark Christmas I once had. I transported myself back there and tried to think of what would have brought me comfort or even gotten through to me at all.

What I surmised was, this fucking sucks but there is an end.

And I told her to have a shower.

The fact that I had to regress and remember is, in itself, the harbinger of hope. It means I got out and so shall she. I know the strength of this woman, compared to the puddle of a girl I was when I was down in it, she is the ocean.

https://www.facebook.com/lulus.secret.desires/photos/a.776354805728050.1073741832.746691528694378/948670208496508/?type=3&theater

“I am sucky as fuck right now. You gonna put up with me?”

“Yep.”

He then did this maddening thing with his mouth where he smirked and bit his bottom lip a lil bit which left me no choice but to smile back and lean in closer.

“I promise when I get back I will be brave and strong again.”

“Good” he said and nuzzled my neck. “I like you strong and brave.”

Me too. I thought it…but didn’t say it. I just melted into the hug, it was a good melt.

He left after holding me, swaying a little in my kitchen. I made another coffee and sat down to write.
His words (and mine) echoing in my head.
I really do like me strong and brave.
Shortly thereafter it occurred to me…
Why not now?
Why not just be strong and brave right now?
I know I am going there anyways, I can just decide to be that.

So I did.

He messaged later to tell me he was going to be crazy busy for the next couple days and told me not to worry. Which is the text equivalent of a neck nuzzle by the way.

I replied “It’s okay. I am calm now.”

“Good, there is nothing to worry about.”

Abracadabra holy shit those are some magical words.

Poof, my attitude changed right before my eyes.

I leave in 4 days, not sure when I am coming home. The house is messy, I have laundry to do. I am mostly packed, but not all the way.

You know what’s gonna happen if I forget a t shirt or the laundry doesn’t get done or the floors don’t get mopped before I go?

Nothing.

The world isn’t going to end over dirty sheets and salt stains.

Speaking of…

You know what’s gonna happen if this next relationship in a long line of relationships that didn’t work out doesn’t work out?

Nothing.

I will go back on Tinder or run into someone at the grocery store and the cycle will begin anew. I kinda like the anew, its starts with butterflies and ends with cocoons of bed sheets.

I don’t know if I am Zen or punch drunk or what. But I’ll take it.

There will come a day again when I am sucky as fuck. I am a girl, or just human really and life is a series of highs and lows with some coasting in between.

There is no magical point in the future where everything is suddenly okay. Thinking there is just kills the joy of now.

I was listening to Lover’s Eyes by Mumford and Sons

Love was kind, for a time, now just aches and it makes me blind.

Ya, my heart got a little tender, bruised really. My eyes welled up, couldn’t see quite right.
I blinked and healed.

Marcus then repeats over and over I walk slow, I walk slow, take my hand, help me on my way.

I don’t want to walk slow just now, I know what is waiting on the other side.
Happiness for the sake of happiness.

I’m running towards it.

Wanna come?

So much can change between May and December.

I feel like I live most of my life between April and October then I just hibernate and regroup. We had a warm November so I stayed awake.

Spring I wake up and Fall I wind down. Winter = sleep.

This past May I still resided in my old apartment. I was supposed to be alone, but that never happened. Kidlet moved in, we got kittens, my puppers Alice loved them as her own. Sunshine (who would become my roommate) was over at least half the week. I got fired, I got tattooed, I got new glasses…that tattoo though.

My girl made me a work outfit and I took a mirror selfie so she could post it to her site. Posted it to Instagram, got a message asking what it said, scrolled back through looking for the pic above…and it wasn’t there.

I had only sent it to he whom it was intended for.

Loyal till the end and then some apparently.

I still won’t speak a bad word about him. He deserves as much.

But he is gone. He was around this time last year, gone again, back in May and gone again.

Still gone. But not forgotten. Tattoos are kinda indelible after all.

So be it.

All my boys of summer are gone too. Football was one night in May. Continued sleeping with the Giant into the spring, I don’t think we made it May. April mayhap. Not going to go digging in the dirt looking for specifics. That may have been the last appearance of Wolfling too. Hot Neighbor stayed around for most of the summer but I haven’t seen him in forever it seems. Thai Fighter, Lumberjack.

Oh my young ones. So beautiful, so absent.

Where have you been my blue eyed son? Oh where have you been my darling young one? Bob Dylan

I don’t really want to know, I just wish them well.

I thought I found love but I think it’s just more limbo.
My ability to look at something and believe it will last is intact though, despite the beating it’s taken.

Me and my big clumsy heart. We never learn.

As I sit here reeling, healing and dealing… I have realized I am doing really well. My optimism returns in spring, like bulbs planted in the fall.  Something inside me starts to stir, stasis ends slowly then all at once. Then I push through and bloom.

I had a glorious summer. Full of adventures, good sex, good company, a little bit of chaos and Tinder. This is far from the winter of my discontent. I am calm and content and resting.

I was claimed a few times, cast aside just as many (way more) and I am still here.

I decided something the other day. I am going to stop seeking answers. Instead I am going to start finding better questions.

Been asking “what’s next?” with a smile on my face for a bit now.

I think my favorite might be ‘why not me?’ not in a whining cajoling kind of way but more in an ‘everything is possible miracles occur and I am worthy of them too’ kinda way. I’m worthy.

The other night at work I was talking to one of my girls, mentioned my penchant for being a cougar and another girl chimed in stating very matter-of-fact “My boyfriend is 22 years younger than me and we’ve been together 7 years. We have had our share of fights but not a single one about age.” I could have kissed her had I known her a little better. Still might.

During my farm life I knew a couple. They had tiny dogs and a nice house, horses and I loved visiting them. They’d met a million years earlier. She was married, with kids in high school and he was the paper boy. They had an affair and it never ended. I met them 20 years later and the love between them was obvious. I wish I was still in contact with her, she was always full of big sister wisdom for me.

I am drawn to men substantially younger than I. They suit me, their energy matches mine. I always walked into these relationships believing them to be temporary. But…on a long enough timeline, with enough of them under my belt with every possible open ending having occurred I had a thought.

Maybe I am actually learning, me and my collection of ‘we almost made it’. We did almost make it…getting closer. Closer…closer…

I am the only one stopping myself. My ingrained idea that it won’t work. Always looking for answers and not asking the right questions.

So, on that note, hey universe…

What’s next and why not me?

Everything’s impossible till it ain’t (Carnivale)

This is new.

I must have used up my crying quota for 2016 on the Giant. Thanks baby.

I swear I have this new superpower wherein something shitty happens and my mind immediately says ‘okay baby, what’s next?’

Earlier in the year I had ‘black 19’ stuck in my head I didn’t know what it meant. I think yesterday was my black 19.

I am calm. And I shouldn’t be. I might have just broken my heart in an irreparable way.

On the first day of retrograde I decided it was a good idea to have a talk with Lumberjack.

What am I, new?

For fuck sakes Sarah. I have left myself very clear instructions and I listened to none of them.

I wasn’t even sure if we were dating exclusively or not. So I asked. He confirmed just in time for me to say I can’t handle this.

So, basically, I had a real boyfriend for about an hour.

It was longer than that in actuality but still, kinda funny.

Opened an older article today called Tacos and Snugglefucks.

I was throwing a fit because I never see him, article says I saw him less than a month ago.

I lost track of time again.

Doesn’t matter I guess. It felt like forever ago. I had even forgotten that I had written about it. I kept waiting for it to get better with him, after vacation, after summer, after fall when it started raining more or snowing more. It’s a winter wonderland out there, the roads are ice rinks and he never came. Well not never, but not as much as I needed.

The light at the end of the tunnel is not an illusion, the tunnel is.

I really liked him, couldn’t tell you if I loved him or not, I haven’t spent enough time with him to know for sure, but the times I did were bliss. Survey says, I kinda did love him. I hated having to miss him. Kept saying ‘something will work itself out’. But it didn’t.

Apparently I am too proud to beg.
God better be opening the biggest most beautiful stained glass window the world has ever seen. Because that was one of the most perfect doors that I just slammed shut.

What good is perfect if you can’t touch it, see it, taste it, snugglefuck it and have tacos?

I am feeling kinda numb right now and I think I kinda like it. I teared up a little reading the article and writing this one but not my usual soul sobbing.

It’s the winter solstice tonight. Longest night of the year, with a lunar eclipse on top. Read a thing today that says this hasn’t happened in 500 years. Mind you I read a thing that said Halloween was on a Friday the 13^th too. It would be kinda cool if it was true…and it actually feels like it. Not just dark, super ultra crazy darkness with a retrograde on top. Apparently Saturn is doing something too. Fucking titans.

I always loved this day. It means tomorrow the days start getting longer, there will be an end to the snow and the cold. Tomorrow everything starts getting better. This is the fulcrum. Just a little bit further to the tipping point and I can start coming down the mountain.

This year it means I am 6 days away from vacation. I am heading far south enough that the sun will stay in the sky a little longer every day.

I might stay down there longer now that I don’t have anything to come home to. Sunshine offered to hold down the fort if I want to stay gone.

We’ll see.

Gone sounds good.

Rob Brezsny posted this yesterday

https://www.facebook.com/Rob-Brezsnys-Free-Will-Astrology-133041234078/?pnref=story

Behind your back, your imaginary friends are plotting with your inner child to overthrow your guilty conscience.

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Meanwhile, your future self has time-traveled into the past to enlist the spirits of your ancestors in a secret plan to unlock your sleeping genius.

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There’s more: The superhero you used to fantasize about being when you felt most helpless has been brought to life by the mad scientist in your psyche’s basement. Allies you never imagined you had are gathering there to offer their support.

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There’s no way you can prevent all of these plotters and schemers from giving you a big crazy dose of assistance.

I did cry when I read that. It just made so much sense to me.

Everything is kinda dark right now but the light is coming. This I know.

I just got a message from a friend, he said “I’m sure it will be alright.”

I replied, ‘it always is’.

So there is this story I used to tell. Thanksgiving dinner with the fam and extended fam. Me and my brother from another mother got caught polishing off a lemon meringue pie sitting on the floor, just 2 forks, and two dorks giggling like mad gorging on my mom’s amazing baking.

Cute story huh?

Everyone always assumes we were little kids.

We were 16.

From awwww to eye roll in 3 words.

I used to bend the truth, with deft and agility. I could make it look like something else completely without breaking it.

I would do it for fun, dramatic effect but mostly out of crippling shame.

I have made a valiant effort since the year of our lord 2011 to stop.

Helps a lot that I carry substantially less disgrace than I used to. I am pretty comfortable in this skin, with my choices, my life and my self.

And then sometimes not so much.

I sinned again.

3am

Her: Why you awake?

Me: I don’t know

Her: Fess up

I told her what I did. I slept with 2 boys on the same calendar day/night. Not at the same time. There was a few hours and a shower in between, I didn’t plan it, it just happened that way. Never done it before. I didn’t know how to feel about it. So I was lying awake at 3am sex sore, sated and muddled as fuck.

An angel of the lord came unto me and said ‘well did you have fun?’

I did. Quite a lot actually.

She said ‘Did anyone get hurt?’

Nope

“So go to sleep silly girl.”

I needed that. Just someone to shrug their shoulders at the mountain I was making out of a molehill and tell me that it’s okay.

Cute story if I was 18 and in college experimenting.

It was last year.

As soon as it was off my chest I fell into a lovely sleep.

Dirty little secrets just need some air sometimes.

Somewhere between Catholicism and Elsa. Let it out and let it go.

Confess, repent, say your Hail Mary’s and try to be a good girl (this week).

That night last year I wasn’t in a relationship with either of them. The guilt was some holdover high school horseshit wherein I once left one drunk dude in my bed to go hang out with another because the drunk one wasn’t functioning and I wasn’t tired. Massive shunning for that. Oh small towns, so glad I left. Sadly the morals are still branded on my psyche.

I do try to be a good girl…mostly.

Mostly they come at night…mostly (Aliens)

We’ve met right?

It’s what I do. I have a life and I live it. Sometimes strange gifts come to me and I’m left holding them and trying to make sense of it. I am glad I don’t have to do this alone, my angel of the lord is with me.

Wrote an article about it, trying to air it out but I couldn’t hit publish.

She knows, I told her. The transcript of our conversation is the meat of the article.

It’s one of those exact times in my life where it’s a really cute story, but the timing…

Timing is always a bitch.

Sometimes I am a bitch and I will sin again.

I have spoken about some shitty Christmases I have had in my adult life.

I think I left one out.

I have no idea where Saturn is right now but I feel like he is up in the sky doing the Hokey Pokey to the Song that Never Ends, yes it goes on and on my friends…

Once upon a time I dated a guy named Graham. He was so boring I am unable to conceive a nickname for him. And yet, for some reason, I was with him for 5 years. Almost had a baby with him and almost got married. I was the queen of what I should be doing-land at the time. I thought blue-collar dude who kept me home and calm was what I should be doing.

It wasn’t.

He drank a lot, hit me a little and wasn’t supportive of me in any way. I had a mid-term miscarriage and he went from looking at me like the sun shone out of my ass to barely speaking to me for 3 months. The checking out process of that relationship was a slow and arduous one. The final step was when Jesus came home from Montreal and we had coffee. As always with Jesus, coffee leads to cock. Before I fully cheated I packed a bag, called a cab and broke up with Graham. He cornered me in the bathroom and fed me punches till his brother pulled him off me.

But we have all heard this story.

There was more to it. I am feeling déjà vu. Just without the ultra-violent break up.

I was so stressed and messed up during that week, which was not long before Christmas …

On the first day of Christmas my (not) true love gave to me, a split lip which turned into the worst cold sore of all time.

I was staying in the basement of one of Jesus’ friends on a pull out couch with my hero. Crying and fucking and not sleeping much. He fucked me so good he jump started my period and by the next morning I was a bloody/crusty mess.

And he stayed.

And he looked after me, drove me to work and picked me up and snuggled me.

And he took me home to meet his family, this messed up puddle of a girl.

I forget.

I forget that I am still valuable when I am not at my best.

I forget that even though it feels like the sky is falling that there are people who remember that I am not a broken mess of a girl who feels like a leper every day of the year.

2 jobs, stressed to the tits, not sleeping, not seeing boyfriend, stripping is like trying to get down the hall at school without getting tormented, I am walking on eggshells, bleeding, and just feeling like garbage in general.

It’s sharknado week basically.

And lo an angel of the lord appeared in the midst of the messiest messy mess.
The gods I pray to sent me a lovely reminder.

I got through that week with Jesus. I survived and thrived. I couldn’t have done it alone, I know this.
And I am forever grateful to him.

This time, I could have endured, but they saw fit to send someone to remind me that even when my light is so very fucking dim, I still shine really bright in the right eyes, almost blinding actually.

So apparently there is some massive cosmic fuckery afoot. Full moon in my sign (a super one at that) with a Mercury Retrograde chasing its heels. Gemini is ruled by Mercury. Why do I feel like I am about to get double fucked and probably not in a fun way.

I am honestly not feeling so shit hot right now.

This too shall pass, it always does. But I am definitely in a lower mood than usual.

Everything is coming up drab grey and meh.

I did a financial projection earlier in the month and due to circumstances beyond my control it will be a miracle if I hit it. I do believe in miracles. So we shall see. And I am so much better off than I was a few months ago, for that I am so very grateful.

I saw a quote today that lifted my spirits temporarily…

“Your problem has already been solved, you just haven’t gotten to that point in time yet.”
Sue Moses

Which pairs nicely with a glass of wine and the Dalai Lama “Everything is as it should be.”

I would never be so foolish as to exclaim anything like I wish I didn’t feel energy shifts like this.
BUT, I do not want to be oblivious. Some people feel all the things all the time and call it a curse. It’s a gift.
There is a diamond in this flaming bag of dog shit on my doorstep. The trick is to let it burn down to ashes so you don’t get your hands all covered in poop.

There’s a shift, I can feel it. Things are changing, and the internet confirmed what I already know. The moon is doing a thing, laws yes M-O-O-N* spells fuckery, and Mercury is right behind it doing it’s backwards dance across the sky. I do need to find one of those articles that explain the good things.

I bought a new phone yesterday. It was overdue. Ate all my contacts and the last remaining video of my kitten who I loved dearly and got scooped up by the owl gods when I still lived in the country. She was a dog-cat and a constant source of joy.

I threw a massive tantrum.

I hate change. I also have my period, haven’t slept much, have a gaggle of bitches at work giggling behind their hands at me, a boyfriend who is MIA, I am having a massive problem with ingrown hairs on my most precious of body parts and woke up to a cold sore, so I feel like a monster.

I remember writing an article a few months ago maybe, something about the shower. I had my first day of having my body back after a similar series of unfortunate events and I was ecstatic, nice that I left myself a reminder. I’ll be whole again soon. It will be a good day.

Till then…

I have to change my thinking.

New phone, fresh start.

No mess of old texts ‘reading through your messages, my favorite way to die’ (K Flay, Blood in the Cut)

A brand new memory card to fill with selfies and filthy memes.

No more weird lags. missed messages and dropped calls.

If I am to be sick and out of service, this is a good week for it. I am only working the one job and boyfriend is nowhere to be found. Next week is doubles and I will be healed up by then. Then the week after is vacation and the real healing will begin. Nothing like sunshine and ocean to fix eeeerrrrrting.

I packed and planned pre retrograde, so travels should be safe.

It’s only 22 days and then we get a free pass until the next one. My job is to just sit back and watch it burn, then sift through the ashes.

I don’t know what to do about bf right now. But swinging a wrecking ball during shark week on a full moon on the cusp of a nasty retrograde seems kinda like throwing a grenade into a nuclear reactor. Big bang, bad fallout.
(see Fukishima, a Retrospective…this is how I lost Gelfling, lesson learned.)

So for now I will hush, shush, breathe, sleep and just worry about getting better.

This cocoon was getting itchy anyways.

I took a little journey to the unknown
And I come back changed. I can feel it in my bones.
Lord Huron, Meet Me in the Woods

*Stephen King, The Stand