The sun continues to rise...

After three days of feeling lethargic and useless, all the emotions I have ketp bottled up inside came burgeling up to the surface where I could no longer deny their existence. There is a reason I am not in relationship with anyone else. None, not one as I mentioned earlier compares to He whom shall not be named. Once you have tasted the sweet nectar of Twin Flame love, everything else is like a $2 bottle of wine. I had made the decision that I was worth this amazing love, therefore, sentencing myself to being alone. He whom shall not be named is unavaiable, so by choice I choose to be alone.

Last night, after a little too much wine, I let the tremendous love I have for him come out, the pain I carry that I can not be with him, the fear that I will never find anything even close to this again. I skipped a dear friends memorial because I was already sad and depressed enough, and then I skipped two other dear friends birthday party because I would have been Debbie Downer for sure. I was just right for my own company. Me, myself and I had a lot to work out.

One thing being the loss of the dream I had that my life was in los Angeles. I have amde the decision to move back up north. even as I write this I know this is the perfect next move for me. I think the last three days have been about putting certain male ghosts to rest, so that I can find the happiness I deserve in my present!

There will come a time

there will come a time under heaven when all things will be brought into the light or revealed. there will come a time when loves will emerge and loves will vanish. A certain man is heavy on my mind for the past week. I work so hard to lock up this love and pretend that I am not fully, wholly in love with the man I havent seen in over 5 years. I wonder why no relationships have manifested for me. Yet in those silent moments when I am alone, and dare to be honest with myself I acknowledge that because no one, not one comes near the love I have for this man. Or what this man means to me. He is a Correctional Officer and therfore forbidden. Untouchable, something that needs to be forgotten, but the heart doesn't work that way.

On a cold winter's night I had the opportunity, the one opportunity to tell him how I really felt, and I chickened out. As I walked away from him that night, tears ran great rivers down my frozen cheeks. the last thing I wanted to do was the right thing, yet it was the very thing I chose to do. He was married and I had made that mistake already. How long would it take for me to learn to keep my hands to myself, no matter how perfect it felt to be near him.

Isn't that the perfect punishment. To find, to come upon the one person in life that is electric for you, only to have the choice to be selfish and get all of that love you can, or remove yourself because it is the mature and right thing to do. I think my decision to walk away from him, my abundent love for him tucked in my chest, barely behind my lips, was ultimately the thing that set me free.

I gained my physical freedom, at the cost of my heart, my love. I heard for years from the other woman how they were going ot get a piece of ass as soon as they got out. It has been almost three years and I only want one piece, his and I am willing to admit that now. the men I have been attracted to all had an aspect of Him, as I would get closer I would realize they are not what i am looking for.
I would rather be real and wait for this to manifest again, than hop into bed with the first nice man that walks my way.

am I crazy?

Storm Shelter

The only benefit of being the oldest girl in the children’s shelter is being allowed entrance into the children’s storm shelter baby room. Each of the babies in this room had been abused or mistreated by their caregivers. I could understand that right? One day I was in the baby room, which was markedly the sunniest place inside the storm shelter. There was one little baby boy, his skin was dark, whether by birth or by the burns his mother had put all over him, I don’t know. My inner sun felt pulled to this squalling bundle of pain. The nurse in the room cautioned me that any touch was severely painful to this little boy, yet my heart was pulled to him. I gently bent over his stark white crib, he seemed so tiny, fragile, and lonely. Everyone seemed to steer clear of him in fear of causing him pain leaving him abandoned to human touch. I slid one hand under his scarred head and my other hand slid around his body as I picked him up. I brought him into my chest, holding him next to my heart, all the while humming to him softly as he screamed in pain. Within a minute his heart wrenching screams subsided as his inner storm passed. I held him all day long, and hated to put him back down. I fed him that day, pouring my overabundant and under given love to this beautiful little boy.

Storms

Storms take all shapes and sizes. My beginning was a storm of failed gender and Mom giving up on her life. This storm blew out as they always do and right on its heals the next storm blew in. This storm was young too, had fire red hair and an even redder temper. This storm blew across my nose in the form of her fist because I had forgotten to brush my teeth before preschool. Something a wise four year old should have remembered to do. Her storm raged even redder as she saw the blood mixed with tears running rivers down my tiny face. How dare I make her feel guilty for making her unleash her storms ferocious power on me to correct my erroneous ways. The enraged red headed storm finally blew out when the sun’s rays found a crack in the storm shining light into my darkness. The sun came to me in the form of a nosy neighbor, Laura, who spoke the light of truth in the face of the red headed storm making the red headed storm flee. Yet, just like every other storm she left destruction I her path. Her winds magically carried away every possession within the house, but the house remained only an empty shell. Her winds managed to pick up my tiny clothes, tiny toy trucks, and my tiny little girl furniture. Tornado Dad took off after the red headed storm like a mad storm chaser he finally catches up with her. Only to be given one more wallops as all storms do, in the form of a hard ceramic coffee mug meeting Tornado dad’s cranium.