sunday, bloody saturday

Today, other than my time on the bench. Other than my grand conversations with Lisa and my sweetest hour(s) stolen from and spent with Mol, other than those fine minutes, I was alone. All alone. And, guess what . . . it was fine, it was in fact divine. I sat on my roof in the perfect sun and got an imperfect tan - which happens when you're a white girl. Sure my Mom's Sicilian blood helped me not to burn too bad, but color, I got. A book, The Secret Life of Bees, spoke to me, as did the pigeons. I'm grateful for this day, a day when the only phone call back I got was from my parents. And a text from my best girlfriend who is deservedly sunning herself in Las Vegas with her oh, so awesome Mom. Otherwise, the ten notes I sent out, not spawned of boredom, but of finally having the time to do so, went unreturned. But you know what, I'm alright with that. I've been notorious for not responding immediately, hence this may be my communication karma. Nevertheless, today reminded me that dammit, I am most certainly good company. For myself and by myself. Hopefully my day tomorrow is just as splendid as today's. Although a call or text back would feel real good too.

xoxox

woman on wire

I have a fan. How lucky am I? I know this. I am not in a rock band, nor am I a famous artist, hell, my name isn't even that cool - (although, like the Annie Hall's of the world, I do have a film whose name I share. Sadly, however, "my" film is no Annie Hall).

I received a package in the mail the other day. A CD and a note. Both containing reminders and beautiful words of wisdom. I will share with you what Adam has to say. His words often become mantras I try to live by. And these three rules, or suggestions of his, I am most definitely going to abide by.

GOAL: try and work on strengthening your level of openness and hone your sense of fearlessness as you drift away from him.

TRUTH: what is going on with him is not always about you; try and believe that message with all of your soul. bookmark it.

RESIST: the latent urge to try and heal him and everybody else. it needs to be about you and only you now. yes, you.

The note began with this insight about the music:

you just have to take some great country guitar licks that could have blasted right out of the fender telecaster of the late Buck Owens, mix it up with a darn fine soul singer whose first name somehow turned out to be Dobie, and it all seems to work just fine when it is all done. it is nearly as irrational as finding true love itself.

Thank You. The photo he included (see above) in a recent email struck me too. My ex had a tattoo, of barbed wire. It was around one of his ankles, like a shackle. Homemade at a young age, maybe 15, it is one of his biggest regrets. Odd though, I think he knew more about himself then, than he realizes. Barbed wire never really obstructs a view, it's main purpose is to keep people out (private property), and also to keep people locked in (prison). Pretty deep? Yeah I know, almost too well.

He, my ex, said he didn't liked girls with tattoos. I got mine on August 27, 2008. I love it. I see it not as a fence, nor a premeditated attempt at aversion, but as an affirmation, it's me, a very real part of me. And he already abandoned that months ago. PS: just don't tell my parents.

Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you . . .

Sorry for the delay . . . "it's so many miles . . . since I met you. Don't even know what I say when I get to you, but suddenly now, I know where I belong. It's many hundred miles, and it won't be long. It won't be long."

And nor will I be - long, there, those hundreds of miles behind.

Today, well, not yesterday, but the day before, it was over. Really over, as in, game over. My lives have been (video game like) exhausted. No more will I rekindle, reignite, assume that life, that position. He has written me off, and I him.

Tonight I spent some time with a lovely and loved man, not the one who has hurt me for months on end. I love him, this one, not like that - well maybe (it has been 5 years), but he cares for me, not like that, I wish. Nevertheless, this guy has seen me at my highest of highs, my very bottoms of lows, and still shows up. Even my ex never tried that; really showing up. I love him this great, curiously complex neighbor,but now is not the time, and maybe it won't ever come. That is fine. For now, I will simply love and adore and revel in his most genuine of company, truly - big sighs of fresh air. With him there is no judgement, or if there is, it's tiny and dissipates, he forgives me, like time.

Alas, my heart is still aching, breaking a bit, although it's mostly broken and done and dust. But tonight thank you RCL for reminding me that my company is cherished and even worthy of footing the bill. I owe you, so much more than dinner.