"HerName's Song" by SisterNotSo

A year ago, I had a MAJOR falling out with a friend. She was a great source of support in the first few months of my separation. I am grateful and will always be grateful for her support during those horribly painful months. (I am so good at compartmentalization.)

But then stuff happened. Lies spread. Judgment was cast. Voices were raised. Deception blackened our friendship and I stood up to her. Instead of laying low, hoping to just blend into the background, I aimed back when she put me in her sites. I did experience some recoil from my aim, because I was not smart enough to duck from the scope. I fixed it the best I could and I learned. And I have moved on.

I am quite indifferent a year later, but an incident happened recently that very briefly had her dip a toe in my life-path. A calm and direct voice told her to not talk to me and I walked away. I was not angry, I just could not believe the audacity she had to talk to me after all the crap she had pulled.

I wrote this poem later that night. This was very cathartic. It helped me release some anger I unconsciously was harboring. The poem is mean. The poem is nasty. The poem is crude and uses vulgar language. Do not proceed any further if this kind of thing would bother you and effect our relationship. That being said, one last warning...

***Language Warning for the Faint of Heart***

"HerName's Song"

True friendship,
I thought it was.
Everything disclosed. 
No secrets untouched.

Tears shed on
supported shoulders.
Then life happened,
and you become colder.

It was always there. 
I would just lay low.
Your hate directed
to others you know.

Then I was the one
you put in your sites.
And you let at me
because of your sick spite.

F*** you Bitch
And all that you've done.
Your lies. Your deception.
From your forked tongue.
And when Karma comes to kick your ass,
I'll be the first to pay you back.

Your Disorder.
Your sickness. Your pain.
You take it out on others.
You let your hate reign.

Another puppet
for your sick little game.
Another number as a
false win you'd claim.

And when you crash
from the shit you've done,
I will just laugh,
because I've moved on.

F*** you Bitch
And all that you've done.
Your lies. Your deception.
From your forked tongue.
And when Karma comes to kick your c***
I'll be first to take that punt.

Impatience

I am feeling grumpy. Grumpy and impatient. Grumpy, impatient, and lonely. Although I can appreciate the need to have this time to myself, this time to grow and be alright being alone, it is still hard. I realize my worth does not hang on whether I am with someone. Just because I am not, does not reflect on the person I am. It just happens that there my potential significant other has not been put in my path yet. So I have to be patient... I am losing patience. 

I want for that next step to happen. I believe I am ready. I have worked so hard on mentally healing myself. I have even started physically healing myself by running. I am better now. Stronger than I was a year ago. Full of more love and life. Doom has become a stranger and this year I have learned to just flow with the ups and downs, and laugh. Laugh a lot about how absurd life can be when shit gets thrown your way.

Things have settled. The kids have transitioned well. I am so proud of them. Life has stabilized enough I feel ready for what is next. And the answer I get is "almost". Almost. It is close. I have felt like something would happen this June, but I kinda question my instincts on that because February was such a flop.

And yet I know, things I do not understand, things that have happened this past year, will come to light and I will know why they fell the way they did. Maybe the little thing that happened in February will actually come to light as to how significant it really was. I just have to wait to see.

I hate waiting..

Ramblings

I have felt the writing tug for the last couple of days. I usually have an idea of what I want to get off my chest. I do have some heavy ideas of what I want to write about, but I do not feel like getting into the heavy stuff right now. Somehow my fingertips find themselves on the keyboard and here I am, mumbling and rambling on the internet.

I guess I could ramble on about Mr. J and my undying, sickly, unrequited love, but there is nothing new on that front and I do not want to come off as this shrine-worshiping psycho, who burns incense nightly to some Goddess of Love, begging for him to come back into my life. Well... I do not burn incense every night (kidding). The only news, I guess, is that he never responded. So I guess that is good. He never said no, but he never said yes either. Unrequited love, just... fuck you.

I know love will happen for me again and the answer that strikes my heart is "soon". Soon... What's "soon" to the Universe anyway? Soon... I snort at the ambiguity of such a word. It is not very helpful in curtailing the desire in wanting to share the rest of my life with My Other.

Trust the timing my heart says. I am trying, really I am. Last June I was wanting someone in my life to love and looking back now, I can see now, I was not ready. I still had a lot of mental work to do and bad habits to overcome. Mentally, I think I am in a good spot. I have gained so much strength in my voice. I am not afraid to stick up for myself and draw boundaries for my comfort. Having encounters with several men who wanted to bow those boundaries gave me the courage and experience to be firm and direct when I was being pushed. This new strength is so refreshing.

And I am working on my bad habits and I am trying to incorporate a healthier lifestyle. Now that I have built a solid mental foundation, the next step is to make exercise and healthy eating part of my life. This spring has kick started that. It feels great to get out and go for a run. At the end of the week when I see my runs logged in, I feel so accomplished.

I think if I had had someone in my life, I would not have had the motivation to take the next steps needed to bring more happiness in my life. That person would have accepted that me at that moment, so then it would be hard to make the healthier changes necessary because they would have been ok with that me. I know the only person holding me back from being in a relationship is me. I know once I have kicked off my bad habits and continued with new, healthier ones, I will attract somebody at that level. Last thing I need in my life is a slug and I do not want to be someone else's slug either. I am not making these changes for my Other. These changes have been past-due many years. I only now have the mental strength to pull these changes off. I have really, never been so happy in my life.

But, hell. It would be so good to have some sign from Mr. J. Some little push with the door for him to take a peek and see if I was still there. Yes. I am still holding out hope. Ugh... I need to give myself a time frame. A deadline that if nothing happens by a certain date, I swear off my thoughts about him and wish his soul well and move on...

and maybe go egg his house...

Happy Anniversary to Me

My anniversary is this week. It would have been sixteen years. Another anniversary is this week. A year ago he moved out. A year ago we had our “final” marital fight, complete with him smashing dishes against the kitchen sink in front of our kids. I knew, so firmly knew, that that was it. It was time to throw in the towel and quit the shared marital misery. Getting to the point of calling it quits was a process for me. I was ready for divorce a year prior to our final fight, I just did not know when it would all come tumbling down.

Well. Really. It had already tumbled. We stopped loving each other years ago. We had become used to coasting in marital mediocrity. The mediocrity became a habit neither of us was willing to change. General suckitude became just comfortable enough to do nothing about… And then there were our kids. The “kid” factor. “Stay together for the kids” echoed in my mind from various advice sources over the years who had never once stepped in my shoes to really asses the stupidity of such advice. I realized I have a separate life from my children and they do from me. My true happiness and growth should not have been at the sacrifice of my children to live in a loveless household. Seeing that is not healthy for them and it surely was not healthy for me. Some see giving up on a marriage with children involved as a cowardly action. On the contrary, I have never done anything so brave in my life and I have never been happier.

Being more at ease with myself, finally loving and accepting myself, and all my beautiful flaws, that is what is good for my children to see. The continued causticness being shoveled my way has given me such strength. I am grateful I got something out of the constant spousal loathing and blame He has dished my way this last year. That is where the true cowardliness lies. Blame is so cowardly easy. Forgiveness without an apology is the true challenge.

I have forgiven him. I have told him such and I have offered many, true apologies. I have accepted my blame in the failure of our marriage, and along with forgiving him, I have forgiven my past self. I do not even know that person anymore. She never was me anyway. The person I am right now is the person who was always trying to break through, but because of fear of rejection She was pushed down and stifled. Being stifled only gave Her strength to come firing through when I needed her most. She is powerful. She has a strong heart. She is steady. She is confident in her shoes. She loves herself.

I know I was never my Best Self with Him. My self-loathing and self-hatred undermined my Best Self. My struggle with depression was the culprit. I do not blame it all on depression. I certainly learned some bad habits and used depression as the crutch to excuse bad behavior.

A year ago, I would have never guessed that this is who I now am. I was blind as to what the future me would be. She still has some work to do, but it actually seems possible now because She continues to break the mediocrity down into dust. I feel so assured that a year from now, the person who will be sitting here typing will be stronger, more independent, more steady and firm, and will love herself so much she will finally be ready to express that true love with others because her bucket is finally being filled with her own self-love.

Needed Catharsis

September 24, 2014 

"... I believe in you as a strong woman, an independent thinker, a devoted mother, and a generous and kind-hearted person. I enjoyed our time together.
-J"

RE: Letting Go
 "I love you J.
Always, 
-Me"

What else could I say? There was no point in arguing his email point-by-point. He had already made up his mind. A sobby email would only complicate things, make me look like an obsessive psycho, and make my broken heart feel worse. "I enjoyed our time together" seemed so final. So done. So determined of him to be finished and so unbelievably painful for me to accept. It was over and I spent a few days crying and sobbing, and cursing The Universe. Honestly, I knew it was coming. I knew that finality on his part would happen in September and I accepted it. Broken heart and all. The pending death of the season and doom of the winter ahead seemed a fitting scene for receiving such a correspondence. 

But then, that same feeling that told me it would be over in September also told me something would happen in February with Him. Yes, dear reader, you are correct. That would have been this past February. The same February I wrote about in the entry just before this one. The February Storm.

And I fantasized about it and what The Storm would all entail. I pictured a quiet night at home, snuggled up on my front couch, reading a classic, which would be interrupted by the ping of my doorbell. Adrenaline would pinch my stomach from the reaction of the ping, like a lab rat anticipating a shock from taking a wrong turn in a maze. My heart would leap knowing He was on the other side of my door, flowers in hand, apology ready for being such an ass by letting me go too easily. And I would open the door, see the sincere pain of apology in his eyes, and I would leap into his arms and kiss him in a way The Universe had never witnessed before because of Truest Love.

That did not happen. Nothing really happened and I am confused and hurt by the Universe. I feel so let down because I felt so deeply something concrete would happen. Yes, my fantasy was a little far fetched (duh). I think I have become a damn hopeless romantic (double-duh), but I really felt like some undeniable sign would happen...

A Few Days into February, 2015 via text, 6:39 PM (after months of painful radio silence)

"Happy birthday. I hope life is good for you."

My heart stopped. I was literally out-the-door with the kids to go celebrate birthday dinner when I got that text. Was this the sign? I was not expecting Him to reach out on my birthday, I think we can safely assume I was expecting something more. Would this lead to the something more? Was this a simple gust of wind from my February Storm? Needless-to-say, I spent my birthday dinner distracted, thinking of how I was going to calmly reply.

Reply via text, 9:15 PM (trying to play it oh-so-smooth)

"What a nice surprise. I am doing well. Thank you."

~~*~~

"I enjoyed our time together." That was the nail in the coffin. It was over. It was dead. There really was no need for him to reach out to me on my birthday. I would have been fine without it, but I cannot help but wonder why he felt the need to text me. He was obviously thinking about me. He obviously mentally noted my birthday. If things were working out the way he had hoped with his estranged and separated (?) wife, then he surely would not be reaching our to a past lover. Right?

And that was it for the moment. Minutes ticked by. Days ticked by. A few weeks ticked by and February drew nearer to its close. That could not be it. Nine words?!?! Just NINE words was my storm? Surely there was more. I started to feel desperate.

For about ten minutes, I looked at the arrow on my phone that could send the text I had written. I took a breath, my index finger hovered above the arrow... and I chickened-out. I reread what I had written, then I took another breath and pushed the arrow...

February 23, 2015 8:57 PM

"Hey. (Keeping it casual.) Your text was quite a surprise (it was) and it caused me to wonder how you are doing (this is a lie. I've been wondering that every day since his email in September, and every day since we first met). We should catch up over drinks and aps sometime (still trying to keep it cool and not sound desperate). Think about it. No pressure ;) (PLLLLEEEEAAAASSSSEEE respond!!!!)

No response...

March 3, 2015 9:37 PM, Present Day

I have been beside myself today. All day long I have been weeping. I am so hurt. There is such sour hollowness in my stomach. I am scared. I am scared I have made this into an obsession about him. This false soul-mate notion. This falseness of trusting The Universe when there is nothing even there. I question whether I really loved or love him; or, rather, that I am in love with this fantasy notion. I sincerely thought we had connected on a level I had never, ever done with another. He told me he loved me! Now I do not know and I do not want him to be gone in nine words.

I do not want him to be gone from my life. I want him in my life. I want him to be my life. I want to be his life. And it hurts. It does not hurt being alone. I am fine being alone. I have been alone for years already and I have tackled that fear. What hurts is having this love inside of me, wanting to share it completely with Him and only Him. It hurts holding it in. It hurts waiting to see if the release will finally be with Him.

I want a chance to really know, without any outside influences, whether or not he and I could be each others Other. I feel cheated. I feel cheated by the Universe that I never really got that chance. And that's what I want. I want that chance to decide for myself and not have someone decide it for me.

And the tears continue to sting my eyes and stain my cheeks.

And I am left to wonder, is True Love even real.

I am a goddamned sap... 

February Storm

There is a storm a' brewin'. I can see it on the horizon. It is an electrical storm. Full of power. Full of light. Full of fear. But I face it. I’m anxious to greet it. I want it. I know what it holds. It holds my love. I know it does. For the last few months, since September, I have felt its power and knowing in my life. It was forecasted by my creator, the universe; then, and now... Now I am at the edge or it. I see it. With its beautiful, swirling clouds in shades of gray and deep blue. I see their billowing shapes forming and reforming, creating the force behind it. That force is electricity and light and it is about to blast me off my feet. I seek the blast. I want it.

My love is there. The love of my life. My soulmate. Someone I have come to term as "my other". My other. My other... I love him. I deeply love him and everything about him already. I am anxious to meet him... again. I know who he is, but he needed time. His own time to heal and move on. It has been hard. I felt rejected by him and I was, in fact. But he is part of the storm. The power. The love. The true love I have longed for for so many years.

And I wait. I wait in a blank field ready to be stuck. To be stuck by the power of true love. The pureness I have never felt before. I trust it. I know it is real. As painful as this path has been I can tangibility feel it in my soul. There is truth there and a love so pure, so right, so true that the years we will finally spend together can only be described as heaven on earth.

I love you. I let my thoughts and feelings flow freely here. There is a risk of being wrong, but the power of the storm beacons the truth. The truth that you are my other. My true love. I've known this from the moment you reached out and then touched the blotch of pink hair on my head in admiration and it sparked love.

I have known it from the moment from you first told me you loved me. That sweet moment after we made love for the first time. And it scared you. It scared you because you weren't ready yet. Your mind and rationality was controlling your heart and you needed that time to be away. To pull away from me because it scared you and made you question what you thought knew but not what you felt.

I know it scared you. There was so much at risk. So much of what you thought and thought you wanted was being weighed by the truth in your heart. That truth, you think, failed you once, but it didn't. It was still your truth and it was still real, but people on the other side still have their freedom. Freedom to make choices counter to what you first felt or wanted.

And it changes. It painfully changes. I know. I have felt those changes. The changes in a person you once knew and trusted only to be vaporized in mere moments of your earthly existence. It makes you question what you felt at the time, when you felt you knew what was right and true. Maybe it was right and true, but you still have a path to follow and it changes as you grow. They also have their path to follow. Our paths are unique, painful, and beautifully promising.

This is where I stand. On the field of beautiful promises, waiting to be struck by the power of the storm.

I wait for you. I have waited already and I know it is time. The lightning strikes close.

I love you. I am ready.

Invalidation

It was supposed to be me. I was the one who was supposed to go first. That way, all the self-growth, reflection and strength would be validated and He would know our marital failure was not my entire fault. I spent years in self-loathing, stuck in a failing marriage thinking, “Who would want me? I don’t even want me.” So I stayed, unhappy and stuck. Stuck in a fear nobody would tolerate the person I was because I was, well, intolerable. Unlovable. Unhappy. But I was married to him and he was stuck to me. I guess I thought it would be better to be stuck with someone in unhappiness instead of no one.

But then I started to grow. I started to reflect. I started loving myself and accepting myself for the first time in my life. The-First-Time. I was ready to be over with the self-loathing and hate. I was ready for the daily negative thoughts to be replaced by kinder, more loving self-thoughts. My self-esteem started to grow and instead of asking myself who would want me, I started asking myself, “Who wouldn’t want me? I am awesome!” I did not just think that, I believed it. I knew it and I know it.

In just a few weeks after He moved out, I continued to grow. My self-acceptance for both my flaws and my good traits helped boost the ego-crushing rejection of a person I had known half my life and whom I had thought I loved; and whom I thought loved me. I accepted my part in our marital failure. I know it was not all him, but he had problems. Some major problems I had begged him to address over and over in our marriage, but he did not love himself enough, or me, or the kids to make those changes. So we failed together and after that failure came growth; or growth on my part, I guess. I saw my growth. I felt its power. I loved it. I drank it. I bathed in it. I was excited to share the “real me” with someone. I had worked so hard, so heartbreakingly hard to change my bad habits and conquer the depression that had held me down for years. I knew I had a ways to go, but I was on the right track.

He remained the same to me. So bitter. Mean. Worse. He treated me like one of his criminal clients, which just further solidified the right choice we made to end our marriage. So many tears I continued to shed because of his heartlessness and blame and I thought, “Who would ever want him?”

But he went first. Weeks after moving out, he found someone. At the lowest point in his life, he found someone and I thought there was no way this other person would tolerate His nonsense. How could they when he had not given himself the opportunity to grow and heal? What kind of a person is attracted to that? Doesn’t water seek its level?

The weeks turned into months, which turned into half-a-year which turned into plans of moving in together. And I was bothered. And I could not figure out why. It was not jealousy. It was not “being replaced”. So I spent some time deeply thinking about why exactly this bothered me and the answer came. I was bothered because I felt that having someone accept him in such a state invalidated my reasons of not wanting to be married to him anymore. It invalidated my thoughts of why someone would ever want his problems and so soon after he moved out of our house. I mean, if I did not want him, how could anyone else?

That concern is not silly. It was very real to me and it worried me. It worried me in terms of taking more responsibility for the failure of our marriage. I have never questioned the actual ending of it, but it did cause me to question just how much a part of it I played in its failure. It made me feel like I was the cause. I was to blame 100%.

I know I cannot force him to accept his part in our marital failure, because blame is so cowardly easy. I know I cannot force him to apologize from his heart for his part in it. I know I have grown because I have offered that apology several times. It was heartfelt and I was, indeed, sorry for the pain I caused him. He has not asked for my forgiveness but I have given it. I do not want the hate of another to be brought into a new relationship whenever the universe makes that happen. Unless I forgive, hate will always be there weighing me down from truly loving another.

I know “my other” is out there. I know the universe has a plan for me and I trust it. I yearn to be with someone. I have so much love to give. Fully. Completely. Without hesitation. And I am ready to receive it. Fully. Completely. Without hesitation. I will expect no less from my other and they should expect no less from me.