This Easter Sunday brings me to more relaxed state than I have been in many, many years. In six days it will be the 14th anniversary of my mothers death, and it has been 19 days since my dad died. And I can feel both of them near me, as if they are, by their memory, somehow letting me know that they are watching over me and that everything is going to be okay.
At work I sold my first truck and my first jeep and delivered both yesterday. I feel like if I don't give up, I will be good at this in time. I know two cars in one week is not a lot in comparison to the guys I'm working with, but I am assured by their experience that they were just like me once upon a time. I hope this is my last career choice. And while a new and used car salesman doesn't make as much commission as you would think, it is one of the only industries left in this country where a woman can really succeed and make some serious money, without a college degree.
I feel very satisfied and content in my choices, both romantically and professionally, and I truly am happy. I feel more loved than I have ever felt in my life before, and with more honestly and genuine affection from him than I probably deserve. With that being said, he would probably say the same thing about me. We have been on a very interesting and intellectually fulfilling journey apart, but now that we are together our emotional fulfillment amps up every other experience, for we finally know we are not alone. The love that others have run screaming from, we welcome and want from each other. Crazy Girl Brain and Stupid Boy Brain are almost immediately defused in each others arms and our arguments are more debates and conversation than fights. I feel like my entire life has been in preparation and practice to meet him. Its not that our love diminishes anything we felt from past loves, it's more of a realization that we not only get each other on levels no one else has, or in some cases not even bothered to try; but that even at our worst, we still smile at each other and help each other through that time, instead of adding to the stress by fighting. Old wounds are finally being healed, for both of us, by a sincere honesty and deep respect and admiration for each other. We find our time together precious and never enough, and like kids in high school or college, the minute we are apart we start to long for the next time we can steal away together.
It continues to be amazing to me how some people cannot let go of things in their life that are outdated, or leave them unfulfilled, out of some kind of duty, or responsibility that they feel they owe the other person. Nothing in more unsatisfying than waking up and realizing that your life is slipping away spending it with people that you no longer connect with, while the ones you want to be with, happily go on without you. I know for some it is true duty. But for others it is only a great fear of change and of being alone. And the saddest part of that, is that you may be ignoring your own perfect fit, by clinging onto someone that makes you so unhappy and unsure of yourself that your self esteem is in the gutter. And you settle for this, because you don't feel you deserve or could have anything better. I understand this, because I was this. I lived it for many years in a marriage that had fallen apart around me, but I had not noticed his absence until it was too late. I didn't want to see that he was happier away from home, that his nights at work stretched into the wee hours of the morning, or that he would leave suddenly on errands that he never wanted to do before, or his alone time became much more important to our relationship. These were all cleaver smoke screens for his real need to be with someone he loved more than me. When I finally figured it out, without much help from him, it was very easy to divorce him. Because if he really loved me, he would have told me the truth, even if it was painful, so that I could have moved on with my life and found someone that loved me as honestly as I was capable of loving. Possibly without as much emotional baggage to carry with me onto the next love. Had I been a vengeful woman, I might have refused him any visitation, just for his lack of respect for our time together and our love...that once was more important to him than any other.
Life and love are strange and emotional journeys, and with my rocky past of abandonment and running scared, I have been loathe to try it again. But with this man, I am not afraid to love again, to open my heart to the possibility that I not only deserve to be loved like this, but I can accept it, knowing, finally, that I am worth it. No matter how many times they tell you, "It's not you, it's me." You never really believe it, until another one comes along and proves it to you. For those in my past, I believe you now. For he has shown me how very special I really am. And every day I believe it more, and fear less about him ever leaving me for someone else.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Listening - Sweat Boys
What a week!
I'm slowly but surely feeling more confident at work. Starting a new career is always a challenge and while I know I shouldn't expect immediate success, I think sometimes my bosses do. Which feeds my anxiety of self fulling prophecy of failure. The up side of that is I'm so stubborn that I won't give up. So eventually I know I will succeed.
Romantically it's been another roller coaster week, but ending on a much higher and happier place than last week. Mr. Charisma has decided not to push me away, for my own good, as originally planned. And this makes me very happy, for it reaffirms what I had hoped, that no matter what happens in the future, we are meant to be here for each other now. During this very difficult time for him as he finds himself, and I am honored that he has chosen me to take this journey of discovery. I kind of feel like Dr. Watson to his Sherlock Holmes. A necessary companion to bounce ideas off of and reflect and learn with, and at the same time a person who can almost see the ending before him, but is so unsure of himself can't make the intuitive leap without his deductions. Or his unlikely suggestions actually helping Holmes make his own correct intuitive leaps. And discovering this is more important than any other chemistry that we have, that binds us to each other like teenagers or newlyweds.
I love that with the intimacy levels we have achieved so quickly, and the growth we both have done already, that we continue to happily surprise each other.
The song this week is not one many of you may have heard before, unless you live here, or know me personally or know The Sweat Boys personally. They are a local rock/performance artist band, and the leader of that band is a personal friend of mine. Who, last summer, needed help to write a lyric for a piece of music he had written that sounded a lot like an 80's love ballad. Of course he thought of me to help him, telling me that I was one of his favorite writers and coming from the era, might help him make it sound like some of the 80's music we love to hate...well love period.
I accepted and we wrote it in an afternoon. The fastest for us both. And every time the band has played it, people have come up to them and to me, to say how much they love the song, or it's their favorite of the bands. (wow...honored, since he rarely writes with others) Even other bands have extended their hands to me and commented on it or asked if I'd be interested in ever collaborating with their sound. Early this week, he posted the link to the song...all finished and ready to share and be put on the first CD. Being part of this creative process and having something out there that I helped to create has been a great confidence builder. And I'm so proud to share it with you all here.
Strangely enough, the lyrics we wrote then, fit my romantic life and that also fits with my sense of order. So here it is, please Listen, and enjoy.
Cheers
https://soundcloud.com/h-p-hovercraft/sweat-boys-listening
I'm slowly but surely feeling more confident at work. Starting a new career is always a challenge and while I know I shouldn't expect immediate success, I think sometimes my bosses do. Which feeds my anxiety of self fulling prophecy of failure. The up side of that is I'm so stubborn that I won't give up. So eventually I know I will succeed.
Romantically it's been another roller coaster week, but ending on a much higher and happier place than last week. Mr. Charisma has decided not to push me away, for my own good, as originally planned. And this makes me very happy, for it reaffirms what I had hoped, that no matter what happens in the future, we are meant to be here for each other now. During this very difficult time for him as he finds himself, and I am honored that he has chosen me to take this journey of discovery. I kind of feel like Dr. Watson to his Sherlock Holmes. A necessary companion to bounce ideas off of and reflect and learn with, and at the same time a person who can almost see the ending before him, but is so unsure of himself can't make the intuitive leap without his deductions. Or his unlikely suggestions actually helping Holmes make his own correct intuitive leaps. And discovering this is more important than any other chemistry that we have, that binds us to each other like teenagers or newlyweds.
I love that with the intimacy levels we have achieved so quickly, and the growth we both have done already, that we continue to happily surprise each other.
The song this week is not one many of you may have heard before, unless you live here, or know me personally or know The Sweat Boys personally. They are a local rock/performance artist band, and the leader of that band is a personal friend of mine. Who, last summer, needed help to write a lyric for a piece of music he had written that sounded a lot like an 80's love ballad. Of course he thought of me to help him, telling me that I was one of his favorite writers and coming from the era, might help him make it sound like some of the 80's music we love to hate...well love period.
I accepted and we wrote it in an afternoon. The fastest for us both. And every time the band has played it, people have come up to them and to me, to say how much they love the song, or it's their favorite of the bands. (wow...honored, since he rarely writes with others) Even other bands have extended their hands to me and commented on it or asked if I'd be interested in ever collaborating with their sound. Early this week, he posted the link to the song...all finished and ready to share and be put on the first CD. Being part of this creative process and having something out there that I helped to create has been a great confidence builder. And I'm so proud to share it with you all here.
Strangely enough, the lyrics we wrote then, fit my romantic life and that also fits with my sense of order. So here it is, please Listen, and enjoy.
Cheers
https://soundcloud.com/h-p-hovercraft/sweat-boys-listening
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Taps
This last week has been one of the most stressful in my life, right up there with my mom's funeral, divorces, and labor. Monday night I was warned by my father's nurse, that he might die soon, and to prepare myself. I felt prepared, and Tuesday went to my training class for my new job, which was scheduled for Tuesday and Wednesday. Tuesday morning, about an hour into the class I got the word that he passed. I finished the class (both days) but went home instead of staying in that town, for I had to travel back and forth.
I needed to be with loved ones, my daughter tried to help, but I think she didn't really know what to do. And Mr. Charisma were there for me, to hold me and just let me cry, and show me the love he wished he could express, but for some reason, only just recently, has had difficulty. I have felt the walls coming up for him, but no explanations yet. Both on Tuesday and Wednesday night, he managed to fit in a couple of hours, just to send me on my way with hope that he would miss me and loved me. And in my grief I believed him, but it still felt almost forced, like he felt like he had to be there, but maybe didn't really want to. I always assume it's me instead of him.
My son could not get the time off from work, as he had been sick and was afraid he might lose his job if he missed anymore work, and I foolishly told him it was not worth losing a job over. I realize now I should have tried to make him come, he will never be able to experience the bonding that my daughter and I did together over this somber and frustratingly helpless event. (SIDE NOTE: Both Mr. Hopeful and Mr. Charisma have had life upheavals this week, suffice it to say, that the details on not important here and in the act of helping to protect them, I will not give specifics here. But understand neither of their lives were going smoothly either).
My daughter and I left for Kansas City on Thursday. Coming from Wisconsin it took us about 7 hours to get there and back, and in my grief I was doing all the driving. This was good and bad, I think. Made me concentrate on directions and the road and not grieve yet. When we arrived we were met by two people I had never met before but spoke with over the phone, both seemed to have their hands out for what my dad had promised them upon his death, his nurse and the caretaker of the house. I have every intention of honoring my fathers wishes, but until my father's, I guess mine now, attorney legally tries to find my step-sister, and give her the chance to come forward for her fair share, my hands are tied. I did not find everything I knew to be of value in the home. Long story full of drama cut short. I brought home everything I could find of value in the safe. The keys to both the Cadillac and the house, and a mysterious key that I hope is a safe deposit box where the gold is. The house is mine outright, but the rest with bank accounts have to go through probate. Fortunately we have the will and all is in order, but finding my step sister will probably take all the allotted time we legally have. I hope she doesn't come forward, not because I want it all, but because my father told me she was a drug addict and I am afraid she will try to fight me on my gifts to the ones that took care of him, for her own needs. She lived 20 minutes away from my father and after their last legal battle never looked in on him or did anything to help. And even treated her own mother like she was a burden rather than a blessing.
The funeral was a full military honors funeral, with five sharpshooters for the gun salute, two very young female corporals, my fathers rank in WWII, were at either end of the casket and folded the flag. One lone national guard member played taps as they did so. The Sergeant Major inspected the work of the corporals and after each saluted the flag he slowly and very methodically presented me with the coin and folded flag, holding both my hands upon it and my eyes to him, he said, "On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation." I know he said some more, but I can't remember...or maybe it just felt like more. Then he stood and saluted me and the one of the honor guard offered me some of the expended shells from my fathers gun salute, after he thanked me as well. I know there was a lot more said about him by the military in regards to the colors of the flag and what they meant, Blue for honor, Red for blood of fallen comrades, White for purity....more but I can't remember. I know a lot of fond memories were shared both by his caretakers, friends and the Reverend...but I can't remember. I do remember all of them saying I looked just like him and that he had wished we had been closer. I do too dad, I do too. I cried every time I met someone who knew him more. I cried at the funeral... a lot. I started to cry several times as I relived events with my daughter, or our friend Kerry who lives in Kansas and allowed us to stay with her the first night. Its funny to me that it hurt so much. I honestly thought I'd said goodbye to him at 10 years old when he left. And we only had about 10 years together after he found me again as an adult. 20 years total to know your father....and all of it either through the eyes of a child or an abandoned adult. I suppose it's more than some children have of their fathers. But now that he is gone and out of pain, I foolishly want more time.
When I arrived home, Mr. Hopeful was quick to find me and tell me how worried he has been, how much he loves and misses me and arranged to see me last night for a short time, to just see with his own eyes that I was okay. To hold me and show me how much he loves me. It was easy for him, natural for us both, even in pain I was able to share almost all of this in a nut shell before our passions swept us away...again natural.
Mr. Charisma, so wrapped up in his own self-destructing marriage, couldn't find the compassion to ask me how I was, tell me he missed me or loved me. His thought was that he had distanced himself from everyone he loved to think, and needed to be somewhere far away where he couldn't run to me, even if he wanted to, and that if he said the words I'd notice the distance. Funny how that backfired on him. I noticed the distance because they weren't said. He's so afraid of sounding hollow because he has to his wife for over 10 years. I know he thinks this was love, by sparing me his confusion, but for me, it only made me feel more alone after recent events. More abandoned or manipulated into waiting for him to decide if he loves me or not. This might be CGB (Crazy Girl Brain), but it might also be SBB(Stupid Boy Brain). Most of my loved ones believe that even if his world was falling apart, like mine was, he should have been able to find a moment to tell me he loved me and missed me and not to worry, as Mr. Hopeful did. I did with him. I knew and know what he is going through as I was his wife in my first and third marriage, and I was him in my second one. I've been both the cheated upon and the cheater, and I know how difficult it is to set this train in motion and hope it doesn't run away with you, but I still cared about my loved ones enough to ask.
They say that the thing that will help you the most when you are depressed or sad or upset at someone, is trying to help someone else who is also depressed, sad or upset. And it's true. I'm sure Mr. Hopeful felt better having been there for me, like I always feel when I help him. I feel bad for Mr. Charisma that he let that opportunity go. Another opportunity to grow together in love through our grief and loss. It seems apparent who not only needs me more, but who is willing to give me more. I hope when Mr. Charisma can find his footing that I'm still in his heart, that he realizes what he has done, and will try to make amends. I have told him I will be here when he gets his head together, but his silence is speaking volumes to me. I had hoped for a very different homecoming. I had hoped for the tender texts Mr. Charisma and I promised each other we would give over this time apart. I had not dared to dream of a personal visit from Mr. Hopeful, it has been so long since we both had time. I have been surprised again by them both. And while my heart has not changed, and I am very secure in my emotions toward them both and what I feel.
I have not other choice but to try to move forward through this grief, and learn from it and live my life. I will try to get some things done around my apartment today, in preparation for work tomorrow. I hope I can sell a car soon, I need something to go right. Something to go as expected. I'm so tired of surprises and discussions over feelings. I just need to feel now, and not try to label it or justify it. Wow....Mr. Practical's teachings come back to me again.
I will and am content knowing that both my father and mother are watching over me now, and I hope that they didn't have to have a time out or be separated in heaven...or where ever the next level took them. And I hope I will not follow them for many many decades.
I needed to be with loved ones, my daughter tried to help, but I think she didn't really know what to do. And Mr. Charisma were there for me, to hold me and just let me cry, and show me the love he wished he could express, but for some reason, only just recently, has had difficulty. I have felt the walls coming up for him, but no explanations yet. Both on Tuesday and Wednesday night, he managed to fit in a couple of hours, just to send me on my way with hope that he would miss me and loved me. And in my grief I believed him, but it still felt almost forced, like he felt like he had to be there, but maybe didn't really want to. I always assume it's me instead of him.
My son could not get the time off from work, as he had been sick and was afraid he might lose his job if he missed anymore work, and I foolishly told him it was not worth losing a job over. I realize now I should have tried to make him come, he will never be able to experience the bonding that my daughter and I did together over this somber and frustratingly helpless event. (SIDE NOTE: Both Mr. Hopeful and Mr. Charisma have had life upheavals this week, suffice it to say, that the details on not important here and in the act of helping to protect them, I will not give specifics here. But understand neither of their lives were going smoothly either).
My daughter and I left for Kansas City on Thursday. Coming from Wisconsin it took us about 7 hours to get there and back, and in my grief I was doing all the driving. This was good and bad, I think. Made me concentrate on directions and the road and not grieve yet. When we arrived we were met by two people I had never met before but spoke with over the phone, both seemed to have their hands out for what my dad had promised them upon his death, his nurse and the caretaker of the house. I have every intention of honoring my fathers wishes, but until my father's, I guess mine now, attorney legally tries to find my step-sister, and give her the chance to come forward for her fair share, my hands are tied. I did not find everything I knew to be of value in the home. Long story full of drama cut short. I brought home everything I could find of value in the safe. The keys to both the Cadillac and the house, and a mysterious key that I hope is a safe deposit box where the gold is. The house is mine outright, but the rest with bank accounts have to go through probate. Fortunately we have the will and all is in order, but finding my step sister will probably take all the allotted time we legally have. I hope she doesn't come forward, not because I want it all, but because my father told me she was a drug addict and I am afraid she will try to fight me on my gifts to the ones that took care of him, for her own needs. She lived 20 minutes away from my father and after their last legal battle never looked in on him or did anything to help. And even treated her own mother like she was a burden rather than a blessing.
The funeral was a full military honors funeral, with five sharpshooters for the gun salute, two very young female corporals, my fathers rank in WWII, were at either end of the casket and folded the flag. One lone national guard member played taps as they did so. The Sergeant Major inspected the work of the corporals and after each saluted the flag he slowly and very methodically presented me with the coin and folded flag, holding both my hands upon it and my eyes to him, he said, "On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation." I know he said some more, but I can't remember...or maybe it just felt like more. Then he stood and saluted me and the one of the honor guard offered me some of the expended shells from my fathers gun salute, after he thanked me as well. I know there was a lot more said about him by the military in regards to the colors of the flag and what they meant, Blue for honor, Red for blood of fallen comrades, White for purity....more but I can't remember. I know a lot of fond memories were shared both by his caretakers, friends and the Reverend...but I can't remember. I do remember all of them saying I looked just like him and that he had wished we had been closer. I do too dad, I do too. I cried every time I met someone who knew him more. I cried at the funeral... a lot. I started to cry several times as I relived events with my daughter, or our friend Kerry who lives in Kansas and allowed us to stay with her the first night. Its funny to me that it hurt so much. I honestly thought I'd said goodbye to him at 10 years old when he left. And we only had about 10 years together after he found me again as an adult. 20 years total to know your father....and all of it either through the eyes of a child or an abandoned adult. I suppose it's more than some children have of their fathers. But now that he is gone and out of pain, I foolishly want more time.
When I arrived home, Mr. Hopeful was quick to find me and tell me how worried he has been, how much he loves and misses me and arranged to see me last night for a short time, to just see with his own eyes that I was okay. To hold me and show me how much he loves me. It was easy for him, natural for us both, even in pain I was able to share almost all of this in a nut shell before our passions swept us away...again natural.
Mr. Charisma, so wrapped up in his own self-destructing marriage, couldn't find the compassion to ask me how I was, tell me he missed me or loved me. His thought was that he had distanced himself from everyone he loved to think, and needed to be somewhere far away where he couldn't run to me, even if he wanted to, and that if he said the words I'd notice the distance. Funny how that backfired on him. I noticed the distance because they weren't said. He's so afraid of sounding hollow because he has to his wife for over 10 years. I know he thinks this was love, by sparing me his confusion, but for me, it only made me feel more alone after recent events. More abandoned or manipulated into waiting for him to decide if he loves me or not. This might be CGB (Crazy Girl Brain), but it might also be SBB(Stupid Boy Brain). Most of my loved ones believe that even if his world was falling apart, like mine was, he should have been able to find a moment to tell me he loved me and missed me and not to worry, as Mr. Hopeful did. I did with him. I knew and know what he is going through as I was his wife in my first and third marriage, and I was him in my second one. I've been both the cheated upon and the cheater, and I know how difficult it is to set this train in motion and hope it doesn't run away with you, but I still cared about my loved ones enough to ask.
They say that the thing that will help you the most when you are depressed or sad or upset at someone, is trying to help someone else who is also depressed, sad or upset. And it's true. I'm sure Mr. Hopeful felt better having been there for me, like I always feel when I help him. I feel bad for Mr. Charisma that he let that opportunity go. Another opportunity to grow together in love through our grief and loss. It seems apparent who not only needs me more, but who is willing to give me more. I hope when Mr. Charisma can find his footing that I'm still in his heart, that he realizes what he has done, and will try to make amends. I have told him I will be here when he gets his head together, but his silence is speaking volumes to me. I had hoped for a very different homecoming. I had hoped for the tender texts Mr. Charisma and I promised each other we would give over this time apart. I had not dared to dream of a personal visit from Mr. Hopeful, it has been so long since we both had time. I have been surprised again by them both. And while my heart has not changed, and I am very secure in my emotions toward them both and what I feel.
I have not other choice but to try to move forward through this grief, and learn from it and live my life. I will try to get some things done around my apartment today, in preparation for work tomorrow. I hope I can sell a car soon, I need something to go right. Something to go as expected. I'm so tired of surprises and discussions over feelings. I just need to feel now, and not try to label it or justify it. Wow....Mr. Practical's teachings come back to me again.
I will and am content knowing that both my father and mother are watching over me now, and I hope that they didn't have to have a time out or be separated in heaven...or where ever the next level took them. And I hope I will not follow them for many many decades.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Leather And Lace - Stevie Nicks
Is love so fragile
And the heart so hollow?
Shatter with words
Impossible to follow
Saying I'm fragile
I try not to be
I search only
For something I can see
I have my own life
And I am stronger
Than you know
But I carry this feeling
When you walked into my house
That you won't be walking out the door
Lovers forever, face to face
My city or mountains
Stay with me stay
I need you to love me
I need you today
Give to me your leather
Take from me my lace...
I love this song, and it's no secret that I'm a huge fan of her lyrics. The gypsy and poet in my gravitates toward her music, and this song, fits my life in so many areas. Right now with what I'm going through in my love life, it's almost a mantra of who I am and what I am looking for. I'm often hopeful that the man in my heart will want to stay with me, forever. I'm scared of the emotion, but deep down inside, no matter how afraid I am to be happy, I still believe that there is someone out there that can help me past that fear, and just hold me and understand why my fragile heart breaks so easily.
They say that the strongest people are really the most tender, and I believe it. For I have been told by many lovers over the years how strong I am. How they can't leave their wives because it seems cruel when the wife loves them so. Or they can't leave their finance because she is so much more in need of them, and I am so strong, I will be okay. Or they can't commit to me because they are not ready, they want their freedom to not be tied down, to play the field, to experience the slivers of all of humanity in an attempt to understand themselves better (that last one was one of the better ones, actually).
Everyone has a reason or and excuse for leaving me, or making me feel like I'm just not good enough or worth being the one they change their lives for. Or with rather. I don't want to change anyone, I just want someone to love me so much, they don't need anyone else. I'm not saying they can't be turned on by others, I am all the time, but I don't act on it. And while the passionate side of my heart, the side I connect with on a sexually intimate level, after the mental intimate level, is torn in two. I am still an unfair, jealous bitch. Yep...you heard me right...I'm an unfair, jealous bitch. But I'm working on it.
You see, it's not fair of me to have my two great loves and not decide between them. Even if they don't want me to, or need me to. You see, they are happy I have each of them because that makes them feel less guilty for staying with their wives, and still wanting and being with me. It also makes them realize that if they get too busy the other one will pick up the slack so that I will be cared for and taken care of, or just to give them a little piece from my CGB. (Crazy Girl Brain). It's not fair of me to have them both, and still be jealous of their wives or girlfriends or both. And yet I'm a firm believer in not asking a man to give up his extra women. They will tell you they are, and they don't. So it does you no good to ask, or beg, or threaten. I never wanted to be a mistress. I never wanted to fall in love with a man that was taken. But I have. And now that its happened, and I've crossed all those precious lines of morality that I drew for myself over the years, I'm still unfair. And you would think this experience would have taught me how to share. If nothing else. LOL
And in many ways it has, or is. I am feeling much better today than I have since Thursday. Perhaps I am learning that I don't have to figure everything and everyone out. Its difficult for me, as I tend to love to delve into the inner workings of the heart and mind of everyone I meet. I find it fascinating the way people think. Unfortunately, I'm an odd duck in this arena. While most people do this and never reach a physical connection, I tend to push my mental connection and heart connection into the next obvious connection...physical. This is where I open up a HUGE kettle of fish that not everyone can handle. Someone told me recently that I connect with sex. While this is right it is also very wrong. I connect first with the mind, then with the heart, sometimes it is just lust in the heart, but if the mental connection was there, it is quickly love. Love and desire that needs a physical bond to totally connect and get the man behind my armor and walls. And its a wonderful place to be...so safe and secure in our emotions together that we know we can tell each other anything and everything and find solace support and love. No matter how unfair, or awful we may feel about ourselves. And when its a joyous sharing...it's better than any other.
And while I crave and need this kind of intimacy, I'm finding, for the first time in my life, that meeting someone that wants to be as honest with me as I am with others, is quite frankly a bit too much information. I find that while my intellectual friend side can be completely detached and because of my love give advice without any hidden agenda. The lover side, the physical intimate side, rages with a possessive jealousy and inquisitive barrage of questions I would not put to a murder suspect on the stand. And no man or woman should have to go through that kind of scrutiny. No one would pass. Including myself.
I've always prided myself on being hard on my friends and holding them to a higher standard. And no matter how hard I am on them, I've always been harder on myself. Ms. Perfect. HA. In this area...I'm an a great and utter failure. I see it for the first time in my life, how unfair I have been to the men in my past and in my present. And I'm trying to stop. It may be too late to save any relationships with Mr. Hopeful or Mr. Charisma. But my love for them will not leave just because they might have to run screaming from me.
You might think I've been a great fool to love such unattainable men, but I can only answer in another Stevie Lyric from Unconditional Love:
Why would I be a fool and break these ties
When all the dreams I believe are in your eyes
Don't you see at last, you don't even have to ask
I'll give you so much more than just a second chance
Unconditional love
I'll be there when you fall.
One condition of love
Is there are none at all.
And the heart so hollow?
Shatter with words
Impossible to follow
Saying I'm fragile
I try not to be
I search only
For something I can see
I have my own life
And I am stronger
Than you know
But I carry this feeling
When you walked into my house
That you won't be walking out the door
Lovers forever, face to face
My city or mountains
Stay with me stay
I need you to love me
I need you today
Give to me your leather
Take from me my lace...
I love this song, and it's no secret that I'm a huge fan of her lyrics. The gypsy and poet in my gravitates toward her music, and this song, fits my life in so many areas. Right now with what I'm going through in my love life, it's almost a mantra of who I am and what I am looking for. I'm often hopeful that the man in my heart will want to stay with me, forever. I'm scared of the emotion, but deep down inside, no matter how afraid I am to be happy, I still believe that there is someone out there that can help me past that fear, and just hold me and understand why my fragile heart breaks so easily.
They say that the strongest people are really the most tender, and I believe it. For I have been told by many lovers over the years how strong I am. How they can't leave their wives because it seems cruel when the wife loves them so. Or they can't leave their finance because she is so much more in need of them, and I am so strong, I will be okay. Or they can't commit to me because they are not ready, they want their freedom to not be tied down, to play the field, to experience the slivers of all of humanity in an attempt to understand themselves better (that last one was one of the better ones, actually).
Everyone has a reason or and excuse for leaving me, or making me feel like I'm just not good enough or worth being the one they change their lives for. Or with rather. I don't want to change anyone, I just want someone to love me so much, they don't need anyone else. I'm not saying they can't be turned on by others, I am all the time, but I don't act on it. And while the passionate side of my heart, the side I connect with on a sexually intimate level, after the mental intimate level, is torn in two. I am still an unfair, jealous bitch. Yep...you heard me right...I'm an unfair, jealous bitch. But I'm working on it.
You see, it's not fair of me to have my two great loves and not decide between them. Even if they don't want me to, or need me to. You see, they are happy I have each of them because that makes them feel less guilty for staying with their wives, and still wanting and being with me. It also makes them realize that if they get too busy the other one will pick up the slack so that I will be cared for and taken care of, or just to give them a little piece from my CGB. (Crazy Girl Brain). It's not fair of me to have them both, and still be jealous of their wives or girlfriends or both. And yet I'm a firm believer in not asking a man to give up his extra women. They will tell you they are, and they don't. So it does you no good to ask, or beg, or threaten. I never wanted to be a mistress. I never wanted to fall in love with a man that was taken. But I have. And now that its happened, and I've crossed all those precious lines of morality that I drew for myself over the years, I'm still unfair. And you would think this experience would have taught me how to share. If nothing else. LOL
And in many ways it has, or is. I am feeling much better today than I have since Thursday. Perhaps I am learning that I don't have to figure everything and everyone out. Its difficult for me, as I tend to love to delve into the inner workings of the heart and mind of everyone I meet. I find it fascinating the way people think. Unfortunately, I'm an odd duck in this arena. While most people do this and never reach a physical connection, I tend to push my mental connection and heart connection into the next obvious connection...physical. This is where I open up a HUGE kettle of fish that not everyone can handle. Someone told me recently that I connect with sex. While this is right it is also very wrong. I connect first with the mind, then with the heart, sometimes it is just lust in the heart, but if the mental connection was there, it is quickly love. Love and desire that needs a physical bond to totally connect and get the man behind my armor and walls. And its a wonderful place to be...so safe and secure in our emotions together that we know we can tell each other anything and everything and find solace support and love. No matter how unfair, or awful we may feel about ourselves. And when its a joyous sharing...it's better than any other.
And while I crave and need this kind of intimacy, I'm finding, for the first time in my life, that meeting someone that wants to be as honest with me as I am with others, is quite frankly a bit too much information. I find that while my intellectual friend side can be completely detached and because of my love give advice without any hidden agenda. The lover side, the physical intimate side, rages with a possessive jealousy and inquisitive barrage of questions I would not put to a murder suspect on the stand. And no man or woman should have to go through that kind of scrutiny. No one would pass. Including myself.
I've always prided myself on being hard on my friends and holding them to a higher standard. And no matter how hard I am on them, I've always been harder on myself. Ms. Perfect. HA. In this area...I'm an a great and utter failure. I see it for the first time in my life, how unfair I have been to the men in my past and in my present. And I'm trying to stop. It may be too late to save any relationships with Mr. Hopeful or Mr. Charisma. But my love for them will not leave just because they might have to run screaming from me.
You might think I've been a great fool to love such unattainable men, but I can only answer in another Stevie Lyric from Unconditional Love:
Why would I be a fool and break these ties
When all the dreams I believe are in your eyes
Don't you see at last, you don't even have to ask
I'll give you so much more than just a second chance
Unconditional love
I'll be there when you fall.
One condition of love
Is there are none at all.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Tightrope - Janelle Monae
This song is completely about my blog, and how I must tip on the tightrope of my duel lives. There are some drug references in there too, but having given that up I find that when I hear it now I focus more on the relationship side of it. Its also about the rumors and innuendo that people jump to when they hear a part of my story, or my life, or what is going on. And it makes me wonder, even when they get it from my blog, exactly what they are thinking. Now mind you, I don't really care what anyone thinks about me or how I live my life, but I do care that no one gets hurt. While my heart is completely enveloped with love and I am giving and receiving in equal measures, as long as there is joy, the details shouldn't matter....
But they do, don't they?
The details, those pesky little things, just keep getting in the way. It would be a wonderful world if we could all just love whoever we want whenever we want without any fear of losing those we love. Without jealousy, or such fear that we hold on much too tightly. I tip on the tightrope, learning how to curb those feelings when they sneak past my radar. The longer I'm in love with a man the less this happens, unless given a real reason, of course. But even then once the initial burst of anger and betrayal is over, I feel a great need for comfort and conversation. Talking it out. There is a man in my life, who helps me with this more effectively than any other man ever has. And I see him more often than he probably should, but that makes it even more wonderful in my heart. That he can't stay away, anymore than I can. The attraction has been, frankly, magnetic, for the last few months, and I wish our situations were less complicated. I know he has issues too, and I know I help him with them. I guess this is what it feels like when you finally find someone that loves you for who you are, and not who they think you are. Or who they want to change you into, and believe they can. That never works, you know?
I believe this song also sings to my strength, and while I've always believed I was stronger than most, I have my moments of weakness, of slipping up, and backsliding, as we all do. But tipping on that tightrope is how we make sure we don't fall. Falling is not an option this time, in either my newest love or my new business venture. I want my new life, and I'm practicing envisioning it, because as we all know...thoughts become words and words become reality. I want this success, I want this love, I want to be happy, I want to not be afraid of being happy. And if that means I must tip on that tightrope, whether I'm high or low, elevated or getting funky on the scene, I will always keep my balance.
Cheers.
But they do, don't they?
The details, those pesky little things, just keep getting in the way. It would be a wonderful world if we could all just love whoever we want whenever we want without any fear of losing those we love. Without jealousy, or such fear that we hold on much too tightly. I tip on the tightrope, learning how to curb those feelings when they sneak past my radar. The longer I'm in love with a man the less this happens, unless given a real reason, of course. But even then once the initial burst of anger and betrayal is over, I feel a great need for comfort and conversation. Talking it out. There is a man in my life, who helps me with this more effectively than any other man ever has. And I see him more often than he probably should, but that makes it even more wonderful in my heart. That he can't stay away, anymore than I can. The attraction has been, frankly, magnetic, for the last few months, and I wish our situations were less complicated. I know he has issues too, and I know I help him with them. I guess this is what it feels like when you finally find someone that loves you for who you are, and not who they think you are. Or who they want to change you into, and believe they can. That never works, you know?
I believe this song also sings to my strength, and while I've always believed I was stronger than most, I have my moments of weakness, of slipping up, and backsliding, as we all do. But tipping on that tightrope is how we make sure we don't fall. Falling is not an option this time, in either my newest love or my new business venture. I want my new life, and I'm practicing envisioning it, because as we all know...thoughts become words and words become reality. I want this success, I want this love, I want to be happy, I want to not be afraid of being happy. And if that means I must tip on that tightrope, whether I'm high or low, elevated or getting funky on the scene, I will always keep my balance.
Cheers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)