The Days After

Many, many mixed feelings.

Wonderful, great day, Saturday. We had a great time at the cabin, at the restaurant, at the park, on the drive, on the ferry, at his house. The sun was out, the air crispy, lots of cuddling, kissing, touching, both affectionate and erotic. Great music. An all around perfect day. Sunday morning was nice too. In the morning he brought out his guitar and played and sang. I enjoyed it immensely but as he’s playing and singing and I’m listening to the gorgeous sounds of his guitar, not just his playing but really the tone of the instrument itself, I start thinking about not having a violin and moved into wasting my time with this blog when I should be writing a book and I just start crying. I’ve got this pillow on my chest and I think he can’t see or tell but I was wrong. “Are you okay?” he asks. Just having a moment I respond, wishing I had my violin back, I can never replace it’s dulcet tones.

We’re at M.’s home after the long drive and we’re kissing and into heavy petting on the floor when his cat gaks on my purse. And then when we’re on the bed with the second cat gakking on the floor.  He’s worried about his cat and yet, well, we were busy.

In the middle of things I look into his eyes I hear in my head “Oh my god, this was a mistake.” And I’ve been struggling with my feelings ever since. As I’m laying there trying to fall asleep or at least rest well, I feel a very strong urge to go home. NOW. And know that it would upset M., he’d at least worry about me a bit. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to be there with him but that I had so much to process and I needed a good night sleep. I stayed.

But it has to be more than that. Clearly I’ve been very emotional the past few weeks and even months. Tears are always close to the surface. And I think that the emotional nature of sex for me busted the damn.

On the drive home, I left earlier than I had to, the thought of suicide jumped into my head for like the dozenth time in the last month. I’m so overwhelmed, so sad. It wasn’t too soon necessarily, I don’t think it’s that. It’s just too much to process, too many conflicting emotions all at once about all aspects of my life. Nothing is settled, nothing is safe. With one exception. My bedroom with Miss Mitty. I feel safe and protected here. I need some stability desperately, a little breathing room.

Will John’s gift/loan of money by the end of the month give me that? Will I get enough breathing room to be able to handle the rest of my life?

Today after a really good cry and a chat with my sister in law, I feel better.  It wasn’t a mistake, I feel the same as before about Chris. But like him, I need a bit of adjustment time, I need to see him again and experience what that feels like, and I need time to get my life a little more in order before I can relax some more and stop all the blasted crying.

Jeesh.  I’ve left him a voicemail asking to get together for a brief chat about the weekend, to share perhaps our confusion.  I want to share with him that I’m in a weird place right now, unexpected tears at any moment. That it isn’t about him but about my situation, the instability.  The trying to hold it together for so long and the sex being the act that pulled the finger out of the dam of my emotions.  Floodgates.

Hope he calls to set a time.

The week in Cancer

Aw Jeez….

Maurice Krafft has made a career of filming places where hot lava is flowing. National Geographic describes him hiking across the crater floor of Ol Doinyo Lengai, an active volcano that’s sacred to the Maasai people in Tanzania. The ground is not erupting in torrents of fire and burning liquid rock, but is constantly bubbling and exuding. Through long years of experience, Krafft knows exactly where to walk so that his shoes don’t catch on fire. If you are going to attempt a metaphorically similar adventure in the coming weeks, Cancerian, make sure you’ve studied up on the ins and outs of the terrain. This is no time for guesswork or naive faith.

Hmmm. Maybe I *want* my shoes to catch on fire. Nawwww. Goodness, I was hoping for something a little less ominous this week.  I suppose one could say that the new project is a bit of a lava field.  Must really fine tune this offer that I’m going to give to the writer’s assn so that I don’t put my foot in the fire.

Guess I need to watch my step with this new and very tender budding relationship too.  While the rest of me is on fire, I think I want to keep the shoes.  But it is a good heat so far.

Yesterday was day two of my period. Always a shitty day.  98% of the time it is a migraine day.  And it was at least a really powerful unpleasant headache day.  I walked to the lake and back, down hill one way, up hill coming back, two miles. It was surprisingly easy on the bod.  Due to the two deaths in the last week I’ve been seriously off my feed. I sit down to eat a meal and can only get through part of it.  Just haven’t felt like eating.  Down 3 more pounds which gave me mixed feelings.  On one hand, it’s 3 pounds closer to goal, whatever the heck that is since goal is really, le’ts get healthier with no numbers involved, more about regaining flexibility, stamina, and not so much tummy.  On the other hand, this is no way to loose weight.  Perhaps the fact that I’m a bit smitten has something to do with it too. So I did the walk, ran some errands, made a list for today.  But I felt like crap by 5pm and seriously considered staying home from my Tuesday meeting.

Made myself go after a 10 minute cat nap on the couch. And M. was there.  Verra nice.

The discussion was on the serenity prayer and how we use that and other prayers in our life.  His share was really quite amazing and many people referred to what he said when they were called on to talk.  There I was, feeling bloated and crampy and headachy and all yurg and I got called on.  I seriously doubt I said anything near as profound, in fact, I’m certain I didn’t.  I think I muddled through.

At one point I looked up and he was just sitting there smiling at me.  It was almost a Colin Firth moment.  It wasn’t anywhere near that dreamy or smitten or what have you, but it was very nice none the less.  He has such a nice smile.  And it made me smile.

Afterwards, after dawdling over conversations with other people until we were both free to talk (gawd, I thought we’d never be free at the same time, hope this isn’t a theme with us!) we managed to have a moment or two.  He asked how I was doing, I had not looked my usual self when I walked into the meeting. I said I was having an off day but was feeling a little better.  He asked if my smile was an act as if smile or something like that.  I hadn’t even though about it.  I think I was smiling because, well, he makes me smile, but I’m sure that the headache was pulling the skin around my eyes really tight.

But it did give me the opportunity to reveal my evil wonderful plan assuming he were available this Saturday.  And yay! he is.  If he finds the time to get a second helmet appropriate for cold weather (his current second is truly summer only) we are going to the cabin in the San Juans for the afternoon.  It’s supposed to be sunny and 50 degrees.  Cold on a bike that’s for sure but I know how to bundle up.  I got a knee length down coat, lots of long johns, wool socks, boots.  My plan is for us to drive up, grab some lunch at this little tavern/restaurant I know that makes the great fried oyster sandwiches (they are only lacking really crusty french bread and they would be perfect), then on to the cabin to show him around.  We won’t have time to hunker in and have a fire but I can give him the 50 cent tour.  Maybe we’ll be lucky and see the resident herons and eagles while we’re there.  I’ve only ever seen the stag when I’ve been alone but maybe we’ll see some deer.  If no helmet, we can go in my car.

Then off down the coast for a bit and home.

Just in time for Bobby D’s memorial service at 7pm which I just found about.  That puts a bit of a hink in the plan but we’ll figure it out.  I hope to end up at his place afterwards for some private moments. We’ll see what he wants to do.  I KNOW what I want to do.  Is it different yet?

As M. and I were leaving the meeting he had an unfortunate encounter with a mess someone left from their dog, right in the middle of the church walkway.  It was dark, who would think. He took it well and thankfully there was a lot of grass.  He just didn’t get all that mad although I know he can, he says so, I believe him. But there we are talking while he tries to clean his boot, no easy feat when you’ve got lug soles, and something flipped inside me.

Until now he’s been a good friend who’ve I’ve been attracted to.  I like him, a lot, he turns me on physically, we like to talk to each other a lot, but I was surprised that when I plumbed the depths of my feelings that I wasn’t feeling more than that.  Another really good reason not to move too fast into anything.  I was puzzled by this actually but didn’t spend any time worrying about it.  Figured time would tell.  And last night as we’re laughing and talking and he’s wiping his boots the flip happened.  That wonderful little *ping* will be forever linked with dog shit.  Darn Universe, do  I get any truly sublime moments in this life?  *laugh* It figures that I’d have a ping over something so frikking mundane.  I can admit that I am smitten.  Tis official.

Adj.    1.    smitten – affected by something overwhelming;
2.    smitten – marked by foolish or unreasoning fondness;

I’m going with #1.  Some other dictionaries say profound love but I don’t think that is smitten.  I think smitten is a pretty strong first feeling, a bit overwhelming but in this case not foolish or unreasoning.   That is how I’m using the word here.  Read nothing else into it.   And I am perfectly satisfied with this, smitten with being smitten perhaps.  Glad that little spark lit into a flame.  A nice little flame gently and patiently waiting for a little more fuel and a little more air to just whoosh into a conflagration.

So.  I got a hot date in a couple hours, lots to do.  Some house keeping, some shopping, a long walk, a hot shower, some cooking and the like.  Better get dressed and off the computer.  Tah.

Roller Coaster rides

How weird am I if I’m lusting one minute and in tears the next, mourning the loss of friends and horny as hell?  Confusing at the very least.

Another dear friend, Bobby D, who I’ve known much longer than Terry and who helped me even more than Terry did, died yesterday after losing his fourth bout with throat cancer.  While it wasn’t unexpected and I suspected it was coming soon, that he couldn’t beat it this time, I still wasn’t ready.

This week has been such a roller coaster.  Up down left right.  Not only have I lost two dear friends for this lifetime, I didn’t get the job I interviewed for (clearly they had no intention of interviewing in person in two weeks, they had someone they wanted already), but it’s also the anniversary time of my friend Jean’s death last year.  All my best to Bro and dear Frederique as I know they are also feeling it very strongly at this time. I love you!

We have a saying in the program:

Getting into a new relationship puts Miracle Gro on your character defects

No kidding.  So I’ve had feelings of grief and loss, lust and becoming smitten, anxiety and scoundrelizing.  I start crying at the most unexpected moments.

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Notes from the Universe

It’s the exact same for me. My love goes unreturned, I feel completely unappreciated, or some clown starts telling me what’s wrong with the world (my world!). And so, I have to remind myself that I am the Universe, that this is an adventure, and that one day they will come to know the errors in their thinking. And, not that it matters at all, but I secretly hope that on that day I just happen to be carried past them, sitting in my processional throne, followed by throngs of admirers, with all the Angels singing, “We are the champions, my friends…”<

You are the Universe, this is an adventure, and they will learn.

Tallyho, The Universe

hahahahahahahahah.  I needed that.

A difficult day. Even though I woke up with gladness that I have a fun casual date tonight, I also woke up a little emotionally hungover from Terry’s death and this job search deal.  I had a phone interview yesterday.  I hate phone interviews. They are next to useless if you can’t use body language or read body language.  I have no idea how it went because I had nothing to really get feedback from.  The job started out full time, they accepted my application, then dropped the job to 50% which still gives me full benefits but much less money, then they said phone interviews this week in person to those that move on next, now they’ve moved the in person interviews to the week of the 26th.  Even if I get the job the paycheck just keeps receding.

Man.  This is really tough.

I heard today that a family friend has offered, through my mother, to help me out in anyway he can if I need it.  It’s nice to know this is there just in case. If things don’t get going February is going to be bleak.

Such is this life we live.  Not the hardest place or body to incarnate into but certainly not the easiest.

A Sad Day

Now that my phone interview is over, I can allow myself to feel all the feelings that I’m experiencing today.

I received word two hours ago that a very dear friend, Terry, was killed in a car accident last night.  A single car accident. We don’t know more details than that.  He didn’t arrive home last night by a very late hour which was incredibly unusual so his wife, Karen, called a family member who works for Washington State Patrol and they went out looking for him.  And they found him, dead, his car down an embankment.

Terry and Karen were sober for many years.  They met in the program and loved each other very much.  Terry overcame the disease of alcoholism, regained the trust and love of his children, started his own baking business, survived two rounds with prostate cancer. His proudest moment in this life was walking his daughter down the aisle on her wedding day.  A year before that she wouldn’t return any of his letters but she came to trust his sobriety.  He was a man who was secure as a man, he took me into his confidence and was very honest about all the problems that prostate cancer brings. His trust of me and his willingness to forgoe ego and simply get help from as many friends as he could was admirable and brave and it helped me gain trust of men.  He was a very funny man, a loving man, a family man, a Good Man.

Good God, Terry.  I know you are doing well where you are.  It was a good day to die. Your life was a miracle and things were going very well.  You had no unfinished business.  But I don’t think those of us you left behind are going to be all that well for a little while.

May the love of the God and Goddess give us the comfort we need.  May you continue to shine your light upon us even though we might not know it’s you.