fuck it

After all that "opening up," he reverted.

The funny thing is that I know see him in a different light.

I am gonna let go, and just keep it that way. If he comes around, I will be kind to him, because he was good to me in his own fucked up way.

but i don't think he will, because I texted him "Have a good one."

I meant it too.

I think i need solitude.
For at least a few weeks, LOL.

I have been thinking about the whole thing, but I think its like what my mom said (she is do wise!), where I was a little birdie all fucked up on the ground and he came by and found me. I am flying now, and he doesn't want to fly with me. Maybe he needs a new injured birdie.

I choose happiness.

And I am just gonna let go and go with the flow.
I am going to be happy and not be scared to new experience. I think I was hiding behind hector. He wasn't a "real" boyfriend, but he kept me from having one, if that makes any sense.

I choose to not be afraid, and to just go with it, and see what I pull in towards me, with my own peace, my own stillness, my own contentment.

i choose this.

Joy

He came to me, Sat night, and called me "baby" about seven times. I hadn't heard him call me 'baby' since summer of 2010. He just went on and on about how he was suffering and that he was so sorry. I am speechless and unprepared. I don't ever want him to think I want any power-position, so I rebuttled with my own apology, which maybe was or wasn't a mistake. He is always this very proud person, rarely showing weakness, and I saw him so humble and soft. He told me that he wasn't normally an angry person, but that he had lost himself in that anger, and he never meant to take it out on me -- the whole "all woman are crazy..." thing. We talked out needs and both of us kept telling each other , how much pain we suffered, during those six days. When he left, all I could do was just give thanks over and over.

I am glad I stood up for what I feel. I will not settle nor compromise, I am who I am, and I need what I need. I hope , maybe, he gained a new sense of respect for me. I do, feel naked, however. Hard to explain. But I am gonna roll with it, be myself , and if I feel love for him, I am going not going to hold back anymore. He can take it or leave it.

It's Over.

When you declare feelings for someone, and they can't reciprocate, friendship cannot continue -- it is too painful to let it. I told Hector goodbye.

How does that saying go?

"Change happens when the pain of holding on becomes greater than the fear of letting go."

"Real change happens, when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of changing."

I saw what I had with Hector , as stagnant. Don't get me wrong, stagnant in the sense of the relationship not growing. But I never got bored with him -- he never ceased to charm me. But I needed something more, and it didn't come naturally to him. Maybe it came naturally to him when he was a woman he loved, in his past. But I don't think I ever pulled any of his heart strings. I know he cared about me, but I think I may have been just something to comfort him in some dark times. I think he has a lot of darkness. I always draw those types in -- probably my own darkness calls out to them.

I am aching so bad.
I got to get thru this.
If I survived losing my husband, then I can get thru this too.
But I ask myself and i scream out to the sky, "Why?"

I am tired of aching. I am just determined to keep my music. The music I shared with him, and I am determined to not feel pain and think of him when I hear those songs. No, no, he can't take that with him. Those songs meant too much to me. But I know now, that i can't hear them.

Why can't I just be happy. I wear myself out with trying to be strong and positive. I just keep marching on with a smile on my face, and no one knows. No one. I claim victory thru Christ, I have faith in the power of Faith. I try to keep peace within me by setting spiritual expectations.

I told God , the Universe, whatever you wish to use, that I needed a mate, and I gave my ideals. And somehow I start seeing Hector start slipping away. Is this part of the plan? Theee PLAN?

I want my Hector back. I do. But it's too painful to not have love reciprocated. He showed me his caring, in his own ways. Oh yes, in so many ways. But he has this aloofness , this disconnected self , and he was proud of it. He claimed independence and held a cross up against commitment , as a priest would hold up again the devil. He had serious women issues, 'They are all crazy...."

I won't lie. I wish. No, I dream.
I dream he misses me. I dream he starts to ache for me, and I dream that he has this realization that he does, in fact, love me. And I then get this phone call, in a week or two, after he has been hanging tight, suffering, and he tells me, "I missed you..."

But if I had to bet a million dollars, I'd bet against it.

God I am sad.
I am tired of hurting.
But i can't lose hope. I can't. Life will turn around again.
Winter will leave, and Spring will return one day.

First Day of Spring -- the Year, 2011.

Yesterday, was the first day of Spring.

I go back and forth, from "all is good" and enjoying my children and the growth that I have seen come about in our family dynamics, to these sad moments of uncertainty.

I say "all is good," when I see how my children are doing. We had such a wonderful time at White Sands, recently. I see them maturing, and with that, I see their attitudes changing. Sergio's anger is completely gone these days. He and Derek get along better than ever. And Derek and Amanda, despite their moments, are amazing sometimes -- especially when I see her accepting Derek's kindness (helping her iron her Young Marine uniform). They all flock around me sometimes, like I am mother duck. We laugh and play. And I look back on how this last year was such a journey for all of us. They suffered too, but I refuse to linger on that, because I must look forward.

I also say "all is good," when I see the way my relationship with "H" has turned out. He has been a very consistent and steady part of my life. We see each other once during the week for a few hours in the evening, and we spend Saturday night together, from 8 to maybe 1 or 2 a.m. (It also depends on his work schedule, because sometimes he goes into work at 4 a.m.) And then every morning he texts me to wish me a good day at work. Everyday, pretty much, I call him during my lunch hour to talk for ten or fifteen minutes, to just tell each other what is new with work, projects, friends/family. Also, he does such kind things for me. And he is nice to my kids, he takes us to each chinese buffets. He even gifts my dog, Zoey regularly, lol.

I watch him sometimes. I can't figure him out completely. Everyone has pasts, mistakes, and I never probe too often. But sometimes I probe. I know I have to keep this relationship in perspective. I know that I must enjoy the company of a man, as I have been, but not let myself get carried away, with domestic dreams. I like how he can come over, and watch a basketball game, with me and the kids, and we have a goodbye kiss at the door, when it's over. I like hearing music, on a porch, and share a 12 pack. I like having a man that drinks like all American guy, and can stop at six or seven beers. (Although, I don't know how many he had before that, lol).

And he does something so soul-touching, and he doesn't even know it. I turned him on to one of my favorite musical bands, and he now loves them. I put like a dozen songs in his MP3 player, and he got obsessed with one particular song. He has this tendency to always pull in to my place, with his stereo, loud enough to hear. I mean, he picks one song, and plays it to DEATH. And the last couple months, he pulls in , hearing Dave Matthews Band's song titled, #41. And that particular song, has been the song of my soul. I mean, I have a list of many songs that move me, but that one ranks very high. And I never told him that, and I smile when I watch him restart the song a few times, when it's over. He sings all the words, and he grooves on every note. HE GETS IT. He gets it. He gets it. Right now, that is enough for me -- those moments. Well, I WANT it to be enough for me. Why can't it just be enough for me? Why? Why?

Why do I have to have these moments of darkness? I even went as far as getting drunk one night (on purpose, to kill the pain, and I ended up emailing Jorge. I don't want him back, I don't. The man I knew is dead to me. But I asked him how he can easily forget and erase it all? I want to do that too!

I don't think Jorge haunts me. I think that what haunts me most, is how life can be so unpredictable. How people can be so flaky and selfish. I wonder if I can ever just trust anyone ever again. I never drag devotion out of anyone, but when they chase you down , and tell you that you can finally put your guard down, because they will take care of your heart. You pull your heart out of your chest, and hand it over to them. I was reluctant to give it to Jorge, and he won me. He embedded himself not only in me, but my three children. Nobody told him to go make my children promises.

And it is scary how out of the blue, they can just decide to toss it over their shoulders and throw it away, it lands on I-10, to get trampled. And to top it off, they create a dozen excuses to justify it, but Jorge knows deep in his black heart, that I never deserved it. He was just choking in his own pain and grief, and was enjoying that "high" that you get from a new love -- a new Spring. He needed that "drink" just as much as he needed his hard liquor. And God, I never want to go back to that mess -- a bottle a day -- damn! Hell, no. That is too depressing to witness. It helped me to forgive Jorge, by pretending that maybe he wasn't so selfish, and that he needed to have that mistress at his side, as he shredded his liver and that way, he could have a nurse at his bedside, for the cirrhosis, LOL.
My kids didn't deserve to witness that.

No, I don't need a broken man. I don't wanna nurse anyone.
I think that's what attracts me to H. He is the type that hates to be fussed over.
It only makes me want to fuss over him more. His weakness is affection, I could stroke his hair for hours before he'd pull away. It's like he is a dry well, and can't get enough. He soaks it up like a desert plant. (WTF with these metaphors, lol?) But fussing? no. Maybe being the 11th child of twelve, makes you harshly independent.


But anyways --people disappoint. HUMAN BEINGS suck. All I can do is hang on is to see God and me, only. I can't bare to be someone's other half. I can't bare to hand the mended heart over to another man. God, you take my heart. You take it, Lord. You heal it. You mend it. And only you, can truly keep it safe.

But I am scared that I have already given a part of it to H.
I thought that by keeping away those physical bonds, that this was enough protection from this happening. No, I give a little tiny piece of my heart, when H builds me a little dog house. I give a little bit away, when he buys me a little grocery, and even when he gives me his intense stare, or that beautiful smile he has.

But the funny thing is that , even if I was to hand him (H), my entire heart, he'd give it back and say, "I'm no good for you."


Well, some days I feel something else.

I keep "visualizing" what I want.
I am not at the point where I am being proactive. I am scared.

But last night I watched "Where the Red Fern Grows," and there is talk about meeting God half ways.

I am not unhappy. But there is this window of time, where I feel this emptiness.
I don't let myself stay there too long, and I refuse to feed it.

I just need to let go.

Let go.

Let go and have hope.

I don't even know what I want sometimes.

But I know i must dream and hope and have FAITH.

Already 2011.

I have been a roller coaster.

I just stop in the middle of it all and say, "What am I doing?"

Life has offered a lot of contentment. My children have come a long way.
I have earned their respect, seeing me struggle, and managing to be the strong
Mother Bird. I get help from family, like my ex-in-laws help with Saturday morning rides, because Amanda and Derek go to the Young Marine meetings. I come home and Sergio had done dishes all on his own -- he is growing up and healing. I don't see that anger he had anymore. And conflicts are less and happy times are more in the home. More laughter, music, and we enjoy our dog and fight over who she gets to sleep with (me, included, haha).

Do I think of my soon-to-be-ex-husband? Yes. I had been okay for many months, and something happened to me in February. I realize though, that my pain isn't really from missing the good-times of the past, but fear of not having what i want in the future. In late January,

Already 2011.

I have been a roller coaster.

I just stop in the middle of it all and say, "What am I doing?"

Life has offered a lot of contentment. My children have come a long way.
I have earned their respect, seeing me struggle, and managing to be the strong
Mother Bird. I get help from family, like my ex-in-laws help with Saturday morning rides, because Amanda and Derek go to the Young Marine meetings. I come home and Sergio had done dishes all on his own -- he is growing up and healing. I don't see that anger he had anymore. And conflicts are less and happy times are more in the home. More laughter, music, and we enjoy our dog and fight over who she gets to sleep with (me, included, haha).

Do I think of my soon-to-be-ex-husband? Yes. I had been okay for many months, and something happened to me in February. I realize though, that my pain isn't really from missing the good-times of the past, but fear of not having what i want in the future. In late January,

Undescribable Months of April thru August...

I had no idea about human mourning. I actually did have an "idea" and my avoidant personality didn't allow my thoughts to linger there too long. My personality -- my own psychology - was too fragile. I had bared other types of human pain --- a defeated, lay-down , hopelessness, but an avoidant response was what always resulted.

But no, this type of pain that started Nov 1st of 2009, when my husband abandoned me and the children -- was a pain in its own class. The tearing up and shredding of your being -- a shattered mirror of yourself. Your bare hands hold the broken pieces so tight, that the flesh of your fingers are shredded to pulp.
But that is one of the many types of pain, that I could describe.

I don't feel this pain any longer. At least, not at that intensity. And I am relieved but also scared at the same time. I tell my friends and loved ones, only half the story.

First, during the initial separation, I had beckoned for my husband to come back, as he was before his "emotional fall" which started back in the spring of 2009. The man who was there during my miscarriage. I still saw him sad, but he was still somewhat present. He comforted me and watched them cleaned up the gallon of blood off the hospital floor. He brought me a cold icy coke. We shared tears. But I don't think we ever mourned together. We had mourned separately. The baby was our last hope, and with her dying, it closed a chapter. It was the beginning of our end.

I felt desperate when I saw the end coming. I beckoned back the intense love of my husband -- like the way he loved me in the beginning and in the middle. I used unholy tactics to get his love. I don't and can't separate passion and love. I am quite giving and intense, and I wanted and needed that intensity back. The moon, the stars, the tiger. Unholy tactics.

Then I tied beckoning back a man who might find God again. The husband who lived by the principles that he held close to his heart and shared with my children. The man who loved Jesus and His teachings --- and a self declared patriot.

This man was dead. The Zombie has a different look in his eyes.


The part I missed the most was the man who brought out a peace in me -- a peace I never had before. The peace you have when you go fishing with a friend, and you both stay quiet, as you look at the sunset and the diamonds on the water -- over a few cold ones, a few jokes, nodding of our heads, and a smile with secret understandings.

Dammit Denise, he is DEAD, don't you get it?

After that , I beckoned an invisible man. A man who is air. I don't know anything about him.....

Who do I beckon that night in the crowd of people?

H.


I picked him out in a room of people, I kid you not. I had left the house knowing he would be there, and the funny thing was that he was in a similar predicament. Healthy? Probably not.

Older, 12 yrs older. I see his face, which shows his age, yet can see him at age 15, 30, 40 and now at 50. The moonlight takes years off, but I wonder if it take off pounds? Ha.

I have the friendship (the peace, the moon and the tiger....)

An illusion, i know. All things in relationships are illusions at first. Especially me, I am so drunken by a new tiger, that and the moon and the stars -- that I don't weigh out other things.


For now, though, I am escaping the fears of aloneness, and having a damn good time while doing it --- what can I say -- he THRILLS me. Conversations are tender, and conversations are GAMES -- i like that he can play a good game... he can top me off, and then pull me over and spank the hell out of me. (Did I just say that aloud?)

But seriously, I have a nice time, and yet, i still know that I don't know him.
And i still haven't figured out his position --- he has given me a list of clues, that may be insulting to a nice girl, yet the more I think about it, it may turn out to be ideal. An arrangement? Or a friendship? And why can't I just let go and take it for what it is?

Why? because i want the mundane.
I want the boring.
I want the rocking chair on the porch, with lemonade (or cold beer) and to feel my dog at my feet. I want my man to be mellow and we make each other laugh. I want him to help me fall asleep and he helps me fall asleep, (*sigh*)


But that can't happen until my birdies leave the nest. Birdies are stress. A lot of stress -- don't get me wrong, joy, laughs, stress, anger, -- which i can handle all of it because they are my offspring, my birdies in my nest -- my flesh and blood, my babies.

But he made it clear that those two worlds can never be mixed -- and I was relieved when he said this to me , because I cannot ever put my kids through anything again. What George did was enough damage. Nobody told him to go to them and make promises like that. No, I can't risk it.

And I was okay when he H said it. I felt relief.


Yet, I wonderd, how could I get what all women need, without losing independence?
How could i get loyalty --- the romantic loyalty that a knight promises his queen?

Why does the woman always have to worry about tomorrow, iike her clock is running out? I feel like i can't and couldn't say goodbye to H, because I liked and needed the friendhhip, the intamcy and the laughter.........yet at the same time the relationship TORTURES me because I sit down and relaize how there is never really a way to tell if a man is a black cat or a white cat. He is a self-proclaimed black cat, and he carries his flag proudly--- grinning to be silly.

But I wonder if he is now at an age , where he says, "hey ive fucked up enough , and now Im ready to finish out my last 30 years of life, with a woman who will be my true friend -- my lover, and I will never fuck her.

Yeah right. I am so jaded.

what the hell am i doing?
what am I doing?

I am purring.