Lucky Dawg, You!

I was woken by a 4 foot tall zombie boy this morning wishing me a Happy Halloween.... ready to put on his costume and hit the beat streets.  I made breakfast - bacon and French Toast.  I sat around for a while doing my homework.  It's was hard to focus.  I keep thinking about the last few days, maybe the whole week.  It took me a while but now I feel like a very lucky girl.

Although, like most, I can settle into my very own pity party quite well.  And even though I get scared about what lay ahead of me and continually look to my past - wishing to sink back into things that are more familiar.  I made a pact with myself yesterday morning.  No more moping.  I have nothing to fear.  Regardless of the circumstances that I have faced in my life, I am still breathing and still surviving.  And 9 times out of 10, I rather enjoy myself.

My child, after being severely bummed out about not being able to hear better earlier in the week, is happy today.  He tells each day to "Bring it on!"  He loves life and grabs at it.  Today, you would never know about the events of the last few days of his life.  So I ask him - what do you do to be so happy every day?  To which he tells me, "Why wouldn't I be happy!  It's Halloween and the Broncos are going to win today!"  Then he's back to playing crash em with his cars. 

So why wouldn't I be happy?  Regardless of where my life has taken me - it has brought me to this moment in time.  I've learned a lot about myself.  I've learned a ton about real hurts and ego battles.  I've learned about true care and wishful thinking.  Mostly, I've learned about love.  There is always more than one reason to be happy... always.  My kid is the best.  I know that God specifically matched us up to take care of each other on so many levels!

Then, out of nowhere, I am blessed with the presence of this guy... I asked him just how in the world did we ever bump into each other like we did.... (just because that hopeless romantic in me wanted to see if he saw it all as a blessing too.  Apparently I need to thank my friend Layla!)  Granted, we don't live together and aren't harnessed by real life currently.  But this is so much different than any experience ever.

I've armed myself with prior lessons.  This is where my head is today.  Are these lessons hindering me?  They make me afraid to jump off the top of the mountain I find myself on.  I'm scared to grab my wings and catch the next jet stream... see where it takes me.  So I stand on the ledge with the tips of my toes hanging over trying to find my balance. 

What I can say, this time around is that this is my own gig.  I don't have friends whispering in my ear about how I should feel and what I should say or how I should go about the catch and/or release.  And maybe that's why I am afraid.... afraid to rely on my own gut and my own feelings.  Afraid to get hurt maybe.  But as the great Benny Franklin once said: Do not fear... You will always know failure.. You have to keep reaching out... or you die.  Well - I am not ready to wither and die.

I've shared a number of amazing moments with this man - ones that I know for certain my heart won't let me forget.  And as odd as it seems to me - the hopeless romantic using fairytale stories as my north star - things are falling into place - I'm not steering the bus, and even if I tried, it would go where it's gonna go anyway.

After reading that tidbit from Mr. Franklin, my heart instantly swelled and my eyes filled with blurry tears.  Mostly because I feel like such a lucky girl.  It released so much fear and made me all warm and fuzzy inside.  It made me feel like it is okay to jump off the cliff.  It's okay to fall in love.  It's okay to accept second chances.  And if for some strange reason things don't work, there are plenty of other things to be happy about.  Misery is always optional.  Always. 

I am a lucky, LUCKY girl.

Late night Ramble

You have 1 minute to say what is on your mind.  What do you ramble about?  Me - Ugh.  About how it would be better if my mind were asleep.  Thinking of so much amazing new... and so much comfortable old.  One minute, what would I say?

I miss you!

But I love him!

I mean, I think I do.

But I’m spinning out of control,

A million miles before I land,

Into a million pieces in a pile.

Trying so hard to understand,

If my heart even feels,

Or if my brain makes waves.

Because I thought I was dead.

But my smile is big!

And my laugh is loud!

And I adore my life!

I love someone new!
But I miss you.

Didn’t know it was possible,

To combine the two.

But I will and I do.

I am me now.

Even with him.

Even without you.



Fudoubleck!

Life sometimes coils you up like one of those armored rollie-polie bugs.  Then it extends its middle finger and flicks - sending you flying through the air like a torpedo headed for the Arizona.  Bad imagery?  I'm sure of it.

So, I call the county court house last month and speak to this lovely doll on the phone.  My question for her was this:  If I, by chance, decided that a lifetime restraining order is no longer serving its purpose, how would one go about removing said order?  She tells me that I have to fill out some paperwork, answer some crazy questions, turn it in to the division and the case judge usually signs the paperwork and returns it to me to have served to the opposing party.  She mentioned that there could be a slight chance that the judge will decide that a hearing is necessary, in which case both parties would need to be present for the orders to be dismissed.  I decided to take my chances and hope that no hearing would be necessary.  I filed the paperwork and said a little prayer.  Oh, I got papers back in the mail to have served... but they were notifying me that the judge believes a hearing is necessary.  DAMN.  Yeah, I was kicking myself in the ass and wondering why I thought my odds would be good...

But just like that rollie-polie, able to take a hit, unwind and trot along... Just as my thoughts turned grim and bleak... all I wanted was to remove any possibility that I could be an interdiction in his life.  It was me putting an end to all connection... setting the bird completely free from the cage.  I just remember that every time he got pulled over while I was in the vehicle with him - Johnny Lawman would always ask for my name - since he does have another restraining order against him.  I didn't want ME and my ego to be just another thorn.  However, I don't feel it necessary to see him, let alone be in the same room... or standing in close proximity of him.  I was just about to change my mind... when some sweet understanding man placed a different idea in my brain.  He said something to the tune of: Maybe this is YOUR chance to end it on a completely different playground... end it in better light. 

After the week I've had... After the year I've had.... sometimes it's hard for me to positively see all sides of an issue.  Something that I am normally very proficient at.  But when you're rolled up and thrusting forward at high velocity, unaimed... it's hard to wrap a brain around everything.  Especially my brain.  I have to spend some time telling a few thank you, publicly.  Seriously.  Some of the extended conversations that I've had with a few family members and some of the experiences that I unknowingly share with new friends and old friends... and now this man...

This man that has come into my life mysteriously and has invaded my space and my cerebellum... has talked me through (especially this week) with grace and sweetness and without ulterior motives.... We've approached this whole deal as a "friends" with a few other benefits kind of deal, which worked out perfectly for both of us coming straight out of long term relationships.  We actually enjoy each other's company and Double C=CLOD or CRETIN - It's how I feel right now.  I've made nearly every excuse in the book to keep this man at arms length.  Every once in a while I let him in to play and I thoroughly enjoy myself.  I think he had something really big he was going to tell me tonight - and I laughed at him and made a stupid joke.  Way to go numskull...

So... I'm like this coiled up armored bug, flying through the air, totally misguided... suffering from heartbreak and yammering on and on about my past and how I should have done things a little differently and how I will do things differently.  He just looks at me sincerely and asks me questions and tells me that all these things are pieces of me - so how is he ever going to fully know me without knowing where I've come from.  It's almost like he's running around with this mattress- back... forward... right... right... left - trying to anticipate where I might land in order to catch me.  Yes, I said mattress on purpose.  I'm still alive, aren't I.  I don't know that I've ever allowed anyone that thought I was worth while catch me.  I fall a lot...

I don't know that I've ever had a current boyfriend tell me that it would be AWESOME to end things on a better note with a past boyfriend. 

Now you understand my odd opening imagery.... right?

SO...fuDoubleck-ing AWESOME!

What I do know...

All I want to know is who made up all of these rules?  My whole entire life people have "suggested" what I am to believe or what I am to do or how I am supposed to be.  And for the most part, I have listened to them to some extent; only to find myself completely confused and lost.  I didn't know who I truly was all this time - and still getting familiar with myself today.  I had to split open my guts and grow some balls to be who I think I am without all of these societal and cultural barriers that have been set before me in days of past.  Maybe, while reading my blogs, you feel that I'm over the top.  Maybe you think I'm one of those peace loving hippie tree-huggers.  Maybe you think I'm some crazy woman and you can pin-point my neurosis.  I can honestly say - today - I don't care.  Today I feel more in touch with myself than ever before. 

All this thinking started with an email that I got from someone I don't talk to.  In days of past, I would have patted myself on the back for winning the approval of my unknown peers.  But all this email did was make me angry.  How can you pass judgment - good or bad - when you don't really know me or my life.  How can you deduct the scenarios that I have lived and breathed without being in the moments of my life with me? 

All of this thinking started when someone, very heartfelt mind you, asked me what it is that I really want in my forward moving life.  There are many things - from what I want to do with my life to where I want to go.  Specifically in regards to relationships, however, I had one answer.  Acceptance.  From acceptance stems all of the other lofty ideas I have about the ideal relationship and love.  And the token goes both ways - complete acceptance of another and another's complete acceptance of me. 

I always used to say that I wish I could build a man.... I would take the best parts of all those I have been involved with and shape and sculpt my perfect partner.  Mostly because I've had these ideas shoved down my throat by friends and family and religion and society and culture as to how all of this is supposed to go down.  But it lacks luster and it isn't what finding love is all about. At least not for the real me.

I listened to a man giving advice to one of his dear friends one day.  He said "That's not love, if she's willing to hit you, that ain't love brother."  All while he was trying to console a friend that just suffered through a drunken domestic violence event in his life that shattered his whole outlook.  Then a mere few months later, the same man raised a hand to me.  I remembered those words he spoke.  I also remembered the utter bliss I felt in December of last year after a few hard weeks when I thought it was over.  Our reunion was nothing short of magical... I never felt more loved in my entire life.  Ever.  So with the spoken words, and the magnetic events of months prior streaming simultaneously through my skull I was one confused woman.  Top that off with mementos from other judging outsiders spewing pearls my way... I thought my head was going to spin off and land on some distant planet. 

In the aftermath, many people offered the same advice as the man with a forgetful tongue.... It wasn't love.  Or I have no idea what love is.  Or the most recent "I need to find someone that is normal for once." 

In prior days I had no clue what to think.  I allowed outsiders to cloud the rulings of my heart and head.  The most troublesome situations came at the cost of mass confusion.  My voice being drowned out by the thoughts of others.  Whereas, the here and now, after receiving the thoughts of the masses I pat myself on the back anyway.  I have been able to stick to what I believe.  And this is what I know:

I went to a progressive church with a friend on Sunday.  Typical Pamela would have said "that was great!" or just a simple "thank you!" with my honest thoughts left to myself.  While I embrace my spirituality and am receptive to positive messages, I also understand that my relationship with God is found when my brain is blank and my soul is quiet.  My temple is me and my offering is myself.  And my peace is in quiet meditation.  My actions of being good to all those around me and doing what I can to be the leaning post - holding others up is my religion.  I celebrate my God by seeing God in everyone and every thing.  While I appreciated the message on Sunday, I didn't feel it and I said so.   I SAID so... I actually said what I felt.

I received this email a few days ago, and I didn't respond because it didn't deserve my attention.  I surround myself with individuals that I can help or that can help me.  And I have a firm belief that we are all capable of good and bad, even me.  We are all just people learning how to do this life thing making choices... it's all a choice, free will.  We don't always make the best decisions, or have the right intentions.  Some, including me, have a harder time than others.  It's finding a balance between love, ego and intention and knowing which direction we truly want to go.   It becomes harder with all the static buzz that goes on around our ears.  Responding to the email would have gone against my honest opinion about the broached matter, and any response contrary would have been sent by anger and ego.  It is what it is, man.  The person(s) that I have chosen to spend my life and time with are just people.  Capable of good and bad.  Just like me.  End of story.

And as far as my conversation on Saturday about what it is that I really want in my life - acceptance.  When you begin a relationship you have this idealized version of the person you are with.  Maybe I'm taking the romance out of the situation, but honesty is key here.  You don't really know a person just yet.  It's when you face a struggle or a triumph that you can feel that soul connection to another.  Maybe your version of that person is spot on.  Maybe (as in the case with my x-husband) it's WAY off.  It becomes a matter of expectation and not true reality.  I fully realize this today.  Today!  (coulda made my life a bunch easier had I learned my lesson the first time)  I can't see myself jumping head-long into a relationship with another until I know them a bit.  And even then - I don't wanna move in or get married until I have a much better understanding.  I've never given myself that opportunity.  I can tell you - that over the last 6 months or so, I don't expect much.  I've also found that my level of disappointment has drastically fallen.  You know a person for who they are if you don't expect.  And if you can get to know that person and still feel that infatuation between bodies, love them when they do good and even when they are human and make mistakes, you have acceptance.  And from there, an honest and true bond.

In my heart I haven't been that far off.  I remember one night shortly after that most horrifying experience where I made it to bed before he did; I wasn't quite asleep - but no where close to awake.  One of my massive bruises lay exposed above the covers.  He gently stroked my arm, kissed my blue skin and hovered above me crying.  That meant more to me than the act that blemished my bark.  I snuggled closer that night.  I loved that man and accepted him, no matter what.  And maybe that's why I have such a hard time with all of this.  Had I just been listening to myself - my true gut, my insides, my soul... Life would be a bit different.  Likewise, I realize that I've had to go through all of this to make whatever comes my way from here on out more intense.  I will have a better appreciation for such a connection to myself; and from myself - to others.

That's what I know to be true today.  This is my philosophy.  I have to understand what my heart, head, soul, guts want without influence from outside of that spiritual orb.  I have to base my actions on this knowledge, from here on out.

Calling a Re-do!

A sneaky 12 got a peek at the earlier blog that I posted today.  I got various reactions from it - one of which thought I could unintentionally be hurtful to people in my life.  So I removed said blog - because hurting people is not on my agenda...I also had to remind myself - I am responsible for what I say; I am not responsible for how you understand....

Take two:

The outline of things-

I am a thinker.  Try to get between me and my thoughts sometimes, it's hard to do.  I usually get this blank stare and funny look on my face as my brain takes me places - good and bad.  It can happen at any time.  Sometimes right in the middle of normal conversation.  Through the years, I have learned that all that pops into my head should not be revealed.  It's mostly for self preservation.  I've found, when I say things and things are taken differently than they are meant it occasionally puts end to measures I am not ready to let go of.  So if I say nothing, then no harm no foul, and I can continue my existence with those I love (just sometimes annoyed...)  I think it's called stuffing.  I get my things out best by writing.  When I can put those thoughts down on paper or in a blog and can actually see them - sometimes I can change my thought process... always I can just get it out and free it from coming back... sometimes I can burn the words and use the process to my advantage - a symbolism of letting some ideas go (yes Mischa, I do that too.)  Sometimes I keep it in my journal because I want to hold on to things - it's just for me and my thoughts are really all that I truly own.  And sometimes I blog and share with the world because I have nothing to hide.

The disposition-

I am a silly, happy-go-lucky, lover of life.  I'm smart, I'm funny, and beautiful on the inside.  Sometimes, my analytical brain gets between me and my disposition.  Sometimes my ego gets the best of me - but I think I've learned well to shut that bitch up as she gets me nowhere fast and usually burns the house down.  (She's tied up in a dark basement somewhere.... I made sure of it.)

My current state of things is limbo.  Trying to sort out of the ashes of what was in order to power through to my next great adventure.  While I know that awesomeness is just around the corner, I feel that I need to figure out the where, why and how as to NOT go there again.  This is where I am at today.  The unrelenting need to know, so like a mad Holmes, I search every corner...

     Example:  Question: I want to know why a person that vows ever lasting love to you would physically hurt you.  And on the same hand, why a person, whom also vows ever lasting love, that has been physically hurt would look away, forgive, and grieve over such a loss?  Was it really that big of a loss? Investigation: When I was in 7th grade I lost my grandfather to lung cancer.  Most likely cause: smoking Camel bare-butts for umpteen million years.  I had a really hard time with it.  On one of my hard days - I came home from school in fear of losing MY parents - who also smoke.  I wasn't ready for that realism - so I flushed all of their cigs down the toilet.... it was half a carton.  I was lucky that I didn't plug the stool.  When my dad got home from work expecting his usual routine (coffee, fag, newspaper, throne) he couldn't find any cigarettes... He was pissed.  His ego and addiction got the better of him - and he started screaming at me without looking at me and my inability to handle the death of a person I absolutely adored, nor the fear of losing any of the others - including him.  He shoved me that day - so hard that I went from the hallway onto my bed, taking the blankets and mattress with me to the floor, then he proceeded to empty my spare change and dollar stash as my penance for flushing such priceless items down the commode. My dad is an awesome man and I look up to him.  This was an isolated incident that never happened before or since.  What I like most about my dad is that he gets things done and he does them right.  He doesn't cut corners and he reads manuals if in doubt.  I like that he started out as a drunken bafoon that decided the people in his life were more important and did something about it.  I like him because he is good to my mother and loves her with all of his heart.  I love him because he's my dad and he's there for me when I need him.  It may have taken me a few years to get over this incident - but I did.  (flip the coin over) You would find that on many levels, the X was an image of my father (your welcome, Freud) except he didn't have it in him to make a change or decide that the people in his life were far more important that his over abundant ego and anger about a childhood that he had no control over.  Things could have been different - but they aren't.  So I play with the cards that I have been dealt.

Oh... I have other questions... Like, does the world have an infinite amount of love?  When will I be done with this grieving process so I can move along like I so desperately want to?  How will I ever trust myself to honestly know another's true intentions?  What are other's true intentions?  How can I live in the present when everything present reminds me of something long gone?  Why does everyone tell me that what I went through isn't right - but I've lived through it before and all is well now?  Why can't I break the spell?  Why can't I move along?  Why did my mother always read me fairy tales?  Why can't I get my heart and my head and my soul on the same page?  Why does everything seem strange and out of place?  How is it possible to feel like a victorious traitor?  I need a sign - can I get a sign?

So I'm leaving work, turning onto Cascade, I happen to glance over to the beautiful lawn in front of the Fine Arts Center.  The bus stop bench grabs my attention.  It's plastered with a B&L Plumbing ad.  The X's place of employment.  Now, this could be construed many different ways... and trust me, my brain has been all over the map.  But I'm settling with this thought:  There are so many bus stops in this town.  And so many places to go.  It was just a stop along a route... It's just one of the many stops that I may make along my route that gets me to where ever I need to be.

The Plot - Hope in the air:

One of my most challenging on-going battles in my life started with a kiss.  I ended up pregnant, even though they told me I couldn't.  I had a seamless pregnancy, for the most part.  I was also told that I was carrying a healthy baby girl.  Now on April Fools day, I got the biggest surprise of my life, as we all know.  I am grateful to be a mother to one of the most loving, bright, silly, handsome kids I know.  He's a boy.  He's got Alagille Syndrome, Sticklers Syndrome and Pierre Robin Sequence.  I did what I had to when he was born, which was stand up, be strong and provide him with the best possible care and the most amazing doctors.  But for months I was truly and utterly depressed.  I went through a phase where I had to grieve that happy healthy baby girl I was expecting to see.  I never left Rory's side.  I loved him the moment I set eyes upon him and have never once stopped, please don't get me wrong.  But my foundation was shaken by the mere hopes falling through to true reality.  I questioned everything - things I did or didn't do as a pregnant mother.  Always thinking that it was my fault that my hopes and dreams were shattered.... until one day some wiley geneticist told me that it was really just the luck of the draw.  Genes swirling around in the shuffle don't always know which way to turn.

I don't give it any thought anymore.  I would never trade my kiddo for the world.  I'm so happy and so very lucky to have pulled the joker card.  He has graced my life in so many ways.  And these times I'm facing now will be in the same boat as that little girl that I had to let go of.  My true reality is always so much better than some of those crazy far out expectations and hopes.  I will overcome, with time.  And maybe - it really is just what's in the cards.

I'll try to lose my poker face though...  It's important that those that care know where I am at.

As the curtain rises - enter stage left...

So I've been writing away - and thought I would share the beginnings of my new masterpiece.  It's already been tweeked a few times - so this may not be the way it stays.... but for now, incomplete Chapter 1:

Into its Dance

            Sometimes gravity has some unusual rules.  It only governs the sway of inertial things, yet my pencil is moving constantly.  If dropped, it falls.  Gravity, the instrument that gives weight to matter.  It can pull worlds in, together.  It can push worlds light years, apart.  Apart. Distant. Separated.  Like millions of tiny molecules floating around in the Universe.  Sometimes they have the exact amount of electrons to fuse together.  Sometimes they repel each other.  When they do mix and mingle, they can create great things, such as the Earth on which I stand.  Or even the unified particles of water that lap and curl over the misplaced pebbles on the shore.  It briefly separates, and then trickles back to the body from which it came. Foamy and frothy as it is tossed just a smidgen harder and harder.  Washing misplaced tokens, shells and various debris from its salty grips.  But always returning back out to sea as bonded two hydrogen and one oxygen liquid.  Motion. Shift.  Movement.  Like the torrid tropical sea: beautiful and pristine, but at a moment’s notice churning and sloshing from the gales and tides.  Winds that blow from east to west or north to south or more directions all at once.  Roiling the waters into spray.  Systematically sculpting a new environment with every gust and thrust.  Like the dark angry clouds replacing the dancing fluffy white ones in my seamless blue sky.  For just an instant, remains a gaping hole where cerulean atmosphere shines through like sapphires.  The last of the shining bright light casting streams of crystal rays in every direction, as if to give hope.  Optimism.  Belief.  Faith.  Will humming under my breath reach you, through that fissure in the heavens?  Through the thick saline mist?  Through the squall howling like the chambers in my heart?  “He has to hear me.  Nothing breaks that bond.”  Not the wind, not the water and especially not gravity.

Blue light makes things shiny and new...

It's been a rough week... scrolling through the memory Rolodex.  Trying to find things to keep and things to pitch, let go of and move away from.  It seems that I have not filed as much of the "bad" as I thought I did.  Not to mention, this overwhelming feeling like I don't have much time left to get things right.  Right in the way that I am truly happy and loved and connected with myself and my community... and the Earth.  When the two tasks are combined, it becomes a soul searching escapade that can go one of two or three ways.  Of all the ways it CAN go... Of all the ways it SHOULD go... Rarely does it. 

My Professor in my Creative Writing class told me to use my emotion to my advantage and write some moving pieces... When I employ my emotions - I make great pieces - but my mind and soul and body are trashed for several days after.  I am not used to bringing those feelings so close to the surface.  I'm a stuffer.  I would rather not deal with hurts... mostly because I am most comfortable being that happy-go-lucky kid that everyone has grown to love.  When I look at things that have hurt me in my life, I feel like I fall into this well and 31 fire departments from cross county and state couldn't pull me out.  Even as I write my silly little blog, I don't share all that goes down in my head... the depths are tragically jagged, steep and frightful.  You have your own cliffs... I'm sure you don't want to be tumbling down mine!  But hold on, friends, I'm about to get really deep and let something loose.  Will it help you understand?  (Not likely with my random A.D.D. style jump around... but here it goes.)

When I hear people explain what love is - and sometimes when I try to explain it myself - I think, "How BORING!"  Love, to me, is a connection.  It takes root... sprouts... blossoms... when Fall comes it can wither, but when Springs rolls around, it can take shape again.  Sometimes, those connections are unbreakable and eligible to evolve.  When I say, "I love you," at that moment in time I absolutely do and that can never be taken away- ever! - just like that perfect Springtime bloom (it sticks in the brain long after it's gone.)  When someone says to me, "I love you," at that moment in time, I feel it and it can NEVER be exploited.  Established connections with other travelers orbiting the sun leave a residual in my heart no matter how big or small or old or new.  Sometimes it compensates for my weaknesses, sometimes lighting my way to my strengths, but ALWAYS meaningful.  Always.  (If you are my friend, you should know this.)  Me and my heart and soul are love.  When you enter my circle, rarely do you leave.  No matter what happens.  But we are animals.  Sometimes I hurt others.  Sometimes they hurt me.  I don't stop loving.  Sometimes people do, though.  And occasionally, connections become stagnant, unsatisfying and suffocating.  In that instance, the likely outcome is to leave a cloud of dust as you kick rocks in search of something more entertaining.  I've done it - who hasn't.  But I can say that my ego always had something to do with it.

My spiritual shift for the last 6 years has been finding the fulfilling joy in each of my connections, small and large, new and old.  I want to celebrate each individual connection I have - a true challenge sometimes as it is quite the task.  But reinventing my idea of love in the meanwhile - personality and entertainment based love -vs- soulful love.  The kind that requires honesty, acceptance, compassion, forgiveness and the utter lack of ego.  Sometimes when I am working on paintings, I have to leave a project and start something else.  Sometimes it's because my heart isn't fully in the painting at the moment.  Sometimes it's because I have a great idea I don't want to lose.  But I always commit to coming back.  I only have a few unfinished projects in all my years.

Connections = Love, are like tiny sparks.  It reminds me of sitting around a campfire watching the tiny embers float towards the stars, on their own mission and path... and of course the origins glow of the the raging charred logs that can warm your toes and even your heart.  Everything must run it's course.  And sometimes, that course is never smooth.  But it all comes around.  Love is bigger than me - like the campfire.  Yet, I am love - like the fragment cinder.... just as you are.  Sometimes, they burn out... but never run out.  And when it burns out, and you're so far away from the glow of the original blaze, look to the stars and their brilliant white-blue light.  It's all the same.  Love never leaves.  It only changes.

I catch hell for hurting and feeling hurt.  I've been ribbed for NOT staying on the same pain train "remembering my lessons" or for only remembering such things...  Hurts are not lessons but for the ego. Maybe I do mentally live a life in my past for far longer than I should.  But when the depths of love are concerned - who, other than me, should say what affects me and how.  Sometimes I've been accused of having this strange fairytale idea of love.  But honestly, I don't care.  I can feel this to my core.  And this is what I have to say:  Savor this moment as long as it lasts. Keep it.  IT is yours.  I will laugh with you, cry with you, feel your pain and elation, love you to the ends of the Earth and beyond.  I will be here when you are, and when you are not.  You are my circle, my fellow embers lighting up the darkness.  And when we burn out - look to the stars.  It will make things feel shiny and new.

And never forget - I love you (not loved... always love.)

The Goddess Taking Shape

It’s not my own, nor my fate.

Home alone in the closet I sit,

Admiring my displaced worldly possessions,

Like my life, my chattels lie deranged.

Paints from every mastered art,

Echoing the stirs of my heart,

And head, and soul.

Acrylic, Watercolor and Oil.

Former Love, past profession, previous life.

My favorite, acrylic red, purple, bright blue,

pink and orange (sometimes green.)

Mostly blue, Cobalt Blue these days.

Thick like toothpaste but I wouldn’t employ it the same.

He was my life, but now he is angry scarlet hues,

That meddle with my brilliant blue.

Used every week, in most every way,

Gently smeared, sometimes violently splattered.

Like the bond and how it died one day.

I like my watercolors too – but still have less control.

The medium taunts me with its tiny tubes,

Not much of a challenge, just not my groove.

Brilliant colors waiting to be liquefied;

Teaching and taught has me tied.

Washed, scrubbed, dappled and blotted.

Planned future partially plotted.

I worship my oil paints just the same,

As my misguided watercolors,

As my erroneous days.

Except, I know how to use them.

Yet, there they sit alone in dust.

Like me, unaided in a closet.

Begging to glaze an empty canvas,

Yearning for an existence, composite.

Oh! Don’t forget my brushes,

And spatulas and strings.

And don’t forget my pens, pencils,

Pastels and things.

Don’t forget me, I’m here too!

All tools, all lessons, waiting to rule!

Canvas with delayed finish here,

It started in anger and ended with fear,

Half a blue Goddess taking shape.

I like her best, she feels like tape.

And a canvas waiting for its beginning there,

A peacock with funky feathers in a strange land.

Or a gorgeous girl with her face in her hands.

Paper in every size and shape and weight.

I believe it’s high time to clean this closet.

But I imagine I’m going to paint.

~Mme. Pamela McCreight 2010~

"Someday You Will Be Loved"

Famous last words.... "Your next relationship will be the stuff dreams are made of..." and "I hope you find what you are looking for in this life."

I found myself strung out on coffee and him....

So I stayed up and watched "Love & Sex" on the computer since no one seems to have it readily to rent. Although it is a great movie... and I've loved it for so long because I felt it had meaning... especially on days when the longing in my heart seemed heavier than my head. I think it's just a good movie... I didn't even cry this time around.... I think it's over... I think the hardest part is over...

The more I spend time with him, the more I am grateful to be living this experience. No, not him.... the other one. The new one. He is so gentle hearted. I... love that about him.