Rage Lite

Maybe... just maybe when I finally find a place and move out of the matrimonial home, this will stop?

I am in limbo, stuck in some surreal gap of having left but not having actually left. It's killing me a little bit.

And the holidays, oh my god, my partner has been home everyday and never going too far from me, like a puppy that thinks he's found his owner and doesn't dare stray too far.

I had to tell him again that I am actually leaving. Things have been so normal that he thought maybe it was just a phase I went through and was over it now.

In our house, it is as if nothing has changed. We are the exact same people as we break up that we are when we are together. Doesn't that scream... something? I'm sure it does but I can't put my finger on it.

I believe, that in order to cope with the middle ground, I am obsessing about other possibilities of love, passion etc. It doesn't help that I had a fabulous taste of it just a short while ago.  I dream of that persons arms around me as we lay in the sweaty aftermath.

I'm trying to find centre, but it's not easy. At this point, it is probably safer to admit defeat and stop trying to fight feeling like a volcano that is ready to burst. I am going to explode.

If only I could cry.

Gasping Desire

I gotta get my head back on straight. I am lost in the ethereal, looking for love. Why? Why am I looking for love? Because I've finally admitted that I've not really had love for so long that I want to immediately fill that gap?

It's fucked up.

My friend and I are... still friends. Still connected (on my part at least - that I am aware of) by what feels (to me) like an invisible elastic band. At our work lunch, he orders shared appies for us, he waits for me, walks with me. In idle conversation he hints that he would not let me win. Mutual affection abounds, and I can't do a single fucking thing about it. He's playing a really very good game. Touché.

Then, as I do at times, I reach out to my first love, just to check in on him, say hi, that sort of thing. I eventually get a text back saying, it's not that he doesn't want to see me, but that what I don't know is that (after 25 years) he thinks of me every day and that that comes from true love.

What? Is he fucking with me? Why is he saying that? He can't possibly be telling the truth. At the very least, he is exaggerating. And if it's true, that can't be healthy.

Yet, I've always loved him, always professed that I always would - in a "very fond of my first love memories" kind of way. A first love that was, of course, wrought with dysfunction (cheater pants, booze, and youth).

But when I've seen him in the past, I've known instantly that I still love him - AND THAT IS FUCKED UP. Jesus.

It doesn't matter though, from what I know, he is seriously using (drugs) and there is no way in hell I would subject myself to that again. It's not even a thought. I've come way too far, I don't even have it in me to go backwards with a person who has not intellectually and emotionally evolved.

Except in that spot in my head where I like to entertain stupidity ( a popular past time these days).

I remember the last time I saw him and his amber eyes took me right back to a place where I had no idea why I loved him, but loved him wholly and completely all the same.

Every wistful word I said to my kids about my first love and how it just wasn't our time back then.

The times I've spent in the past revisiting the possibility of us meeting up again and finally being the right time for us both.

But, in a fantasy world.

So, here I am, lurching for the possibility of love and distraction. Where is it, where can I find it? I'm frantic with the replacement theory.

I think that I know that this is just a natural phase of leaving my marriage and realizing the time I have given to it - and perhaps being angry about that. I want something for me now. But, damn, it is uncomfortable, gasping desire is heavy burden.

The goal has been to reach my quiet solitude and get some work done. To make space for my work, not clutter my space with little men and a parade of unmet expectations.

Where the fuck did my grown up go?

Beautiful, Free, and Alive

I am ridiculous, I'm pinning all my built up frustrations with life in general on this one thing and I need to calm down.

Calm down and let go.

I am 44,  I am leaving my husband because there is nothing here for me. There may not be a whole lot on the other side, but there will be the hope of more. The dream of more.

I am lovely in my nature and, one day,  I want to share that with someone who is lovely and alive in theirs.

I want to build a nest that nurtures growth and creativity.  I want to focus and excel at my job.

I want to be beautiful, free, and alive.