Changing Seasons · Musings · Small Joys · Strong Woman · Zen Buddhism

The leaves of the burning bush are in the stages of changing from dark green to scarlet, and as I step outside the sky is a crazy color of angry pink and hideous orange and the wind is whipping.  The first spots of rain are falling on the driveway.  I zip my fleece hoodie and then my down vest.  The dog is literally bouncing with happiness.

I realize the janitor at my school thinks I am an idiot and it makes me angry.  I tell him it is hot in my room and he points to my north facing windows and tells me it is because they are absorbing the sunlight.  Huh?  Then today he says, you are hot because you are wearing a sweater.  Really?  This to the girl who has been known to wear a down coat in October.  I am always cold.  If I say my room is too warm, honey it is boiling hot.  I promise.

Then the anger gives way to understanding.  It is not me that is not too bright, it is him.  He still hasn’t figured out how to turn down the thermostat.  And I am suffering for it.

My Mom, hi mom, has been asking me about marriage what would I do if he popped the question and telling me it is just a piece of paper anyway.  And I am literally making this confused face as I read her IMs, who said anything about marriage?  Suddenly I realize it isn’t me it is instead, that she was married at this point in her relationship with my step-dad.  Maybe she still believes in marriage.  I am so cynical.  I need marriage for financial stability and help with my work load.  Do I want to get married? Maybe someday, but I cannot even fathom that my boyfriend is there yet I am not sure if I am, but either way my daughter graduating from college comes first before anything else.  He doesn’t even come over to my house, like, EVER.  And you see I am a teenager again.  I will never get married, no one will ever ask me, he will leave me for another woman either way, 10 years into it.  And claim, no swear, he did not enter her world until I was out.  LIAR.

Gah.  I hack on my own vitriolic nonsense.  I tell myself to just shut the hell up and take it as it comes to me.  One page at a time, no skipping to the end.

I light my incense and a candle and put on my yoga chants, my back aches for some reason, spasming terribly lately.  I say my prayers.

Once I wrote down all the things I was looking for in a man, but I cannot find the note I wrote and prayed to God that he send this thing my way.  I think I threw it away in a pique.  You never answer my prayers.  Why do you hate me?

I hunt through my journals, and find one thing, I want a man who is willing to put the time and energy into being with me without me questioning.  HA.

I want a man who reads more than he watches TV.  HA.

A note here, a note there but all put together, dear God send me anyone.  I laugh at myself.  My loneliness was so palpable it is painful to read.

Words like prison and trapped and get me out of here litter my poems.

I feel like I am a completely different person.

And  yet here I am saying my prayers, exactly the same.

I feel like I am being watched, I am paranoid.  I dream he has moved back to town, and it is only a matter of time before I run into him.  It makes me feel ill.  I pray, please just let me be rid of the poison he injected into my veins.  Please let me never be the rejected girl ever again.  And most of all, please make it so I don’t ever have to see either of their faces ever again, they have done enough damage.  I have brutalized myself enough.

I find myself sewing again for the first time in months.  It feels good, but I am lazy and uninspired.  I have at least two doll ideas swimming in my head.  Treading water, biding their time.  I am in no hurry, but suddenly I feel frantic.  I have to do it now or else.

Gah.  I tell myself to shut the hell up.  Just sit and be quiet.  I close the top of the lap top.  And I listen to the yoga chants as the incense curls up.  I wish for sleep, for love, for affection, for attention, for energy, for peace.  I say, shut up, again. I wish for nothing.   I just breathe in and out again.


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