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?

Time keeps on slippin...

There is a common misperception that prisoners have nothing but time on their hands, that they are handed everything for free. In fact when a convicted person is sentenced it is called being given time. The girls ask, How much time to you get? Then the comparison starts of who got screwed and who got lucky. On October 31, 1995, I found myself sitting in a dirty beige room. A wood enclosed Bench at the head of the room. Two more desks sat in front of the judge’s bench. Ten feet in front of that were two regular wood tables one to the left, the defendants table and one to the right the prosecutors table. Further to the right was the now empty jury’s box. The jury of my peers (the youngest being 49) is gone to sleep at home instead of the cozy box. To my left is another desk that is the bailiffs, from here he keeps a watchful eye on me and my family. A railing runs across the room behind me. Behind that the room is nothing but rows of chairs and a giant eagle hung up on the wall like the sentry of all that is good and holy. On this day the honorable judge Wayne Westover, dressed in his black robe was handing down my sentence.