Tag Archives: love

The Dark

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The Dark

Ubiquitous coupling of individuals:

dating, seeing, hooking up, hoping…

 

Such hope, misshapen and oft, mistakenly placed 

Among those who could be a catalyst… 

For growth

For love

For the exchange of energy 

 

A soft place to fall

A mirror for reflection 

For learning 

For safety

 

Can you be trusted?

Can you trust? 

 

Me in a vulnerable place

You in a similar position 

 

Our traumas they resound 

Like echoes they attract

Signal like a beacon 

Other lost souls

 

Calling out 

to find their way back 

Pain is sensual

An illusion we embrace 

 

But the questions still remains:

Can we hold hands?

Lead each other;

through the forest, 

the trees…

Do we walk toward light

Or retreat back to the dark…

 

Waiting…

Breath held

Throat clasped

Rise

Exhale

 

Fear feels safe…

Somehow

You know.

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learning curve (n.) a graph showing the rate of learning (especially a graph showing the amount recalled as a function of the number of attempts to recall)

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learning curve (n.) a graph showing the rate of learning (especially a graph showing the amount recalled as a function of the number of attempts to recall)

I find it interesting how things NEVER turn out the way you think they will. I feel like humans spend a lot of time anticipating things and the ease with which they will happen some strange day in the future…

As soon as I get out of school;

As soon as I get into school;

As soon as I get married;

As soon as I get divorced;

Or in my case, as soon as my kids grow up and move out.

I have a relationship history, baggage let’s say. due to the fact that I am apparently old… I have more than the average of marriages/divorces under my belt but that average was from before I was 23, I am a very different person now and like ALL OF US, with what I know now, of course I would make different choices. But then, I made some pretty grown up decisions that have somehow, made my life easier then, and decidedly more complicated now. What vexes me is that I always thought it would be easier now.

What I am finding however, is that everyone within what I find to be a comfortable dating age range either has young children or wants to have them. It is frustrating. Not to mention the job I have now is less than encouraging when it comes to parenting or coparenting. I see the worst in people as it relates to parenting and children. So, there is that, too.

I could have more children; if I got a $7,500 surgery or did IVF, I have checked into it, as recently as two years ago. I have been curious about it a long time. I was even going to do surrogacy until I turned 37, which is the magic age that makes it unprofitable. I am at a point in my life, professionally, psychologically, financially, etc. that I would probably be a really good parent (not to say I wasn’t before, but hey money and education really do help.) I envy some of my friends who are just having their first. My family members, too. Meanwhile, I’m expecting grandkids any day, at the ripe old age of 38.

I’ve never had kids with someone who wanted kids. I’ve never had kids when I wanted kids. I’ve never really coparented longer than a couple years. It is all very tempting. Truly. I had my tubes tied at 21? 22? because I love kids. I just couldn’t afford more of them and without support, couldn’t parent more than the two I had alone. Once upon a time, I thought that would be attractive to someone. No ticking biological clock. No concerns about pregnancy oops. You know? Alas.

Instead, I find that really amazing connections and potential connections, are lost because of it. Sigh. Patriarchy wins again. And I didn’t even get to participate in the conversation, it was just a decision they made.

Men have no real shelf life when it comes to producing children.

*yes, yes, #notallmen are fertile. I know.*

But in general, if a man can find someone to get pregnant, he can until he dies.

We women, we are burdened with the choices that we have to make to raise the kids we have. We bear the main burden and decisions to keep or not keep a child. Yes, men might participate but we bear the brunt privately and publically. We are burdened with a window of time to procreate.

We are burdened:

Be pretty. Be young. Be fertile. Be smart. Be humble. Be a feminist (but not so much that I can’t open a car door for you or be manly).

BE.

Be what I want or need in my idea of how things should be.

I wish people could communicate better, I am very upfront about not looking to have more kids or get married. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t, just that I am not looking for that. There are always ways to make a family. Family isn’t always about marriage or genetic children. And hey! Technology has made all sorts of things possible. People are having children in their 60s. Men are having babies. Nature and technology can find a way.

Meh, I digress. This post wasn’t meant to be about that particular piece. But regardless, of my ability/inability to breed, navigating online dating is much more difficult than I ever imagined.

Maybe I am too hypervigilant. (*Just because I am hypervigilant doesn’t mean I am wrong… Just FYI) Maybe I am gunshy. Maybe I don’t know the new world rules of what is appropriate now in nonorganic database dating regarding contact, texting, amounts, context. I never really “dated” before. I was married at 16. I have randomly been with other people over the years, but usually it was friends of friends or friends that I became romantically involved with. The first time I online dated, I got lucky. I ended up spending the larger part of 5 years with the first person I dated from okcupid. So, my experiences have been limited. And everyone seems to have a different idea of what “normal” is.

This dating go round, 25% have been amazing, too awesome, probably. 25% have been boring beyond belief. 25% have been aggressive and controlling. And the last 25%? Oh yeah. Sex offender. Woot. Hell of a learning curve there.

Way to go, filters.

So I will just sit here, like the memes say, and wait for mr/mrs right to break into my house, I guess. Huzzah.

 

 

Sitrep

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Sitrep

Self imposed and static inertia

My late onsetted grief 

Such Purgatory bliss

Risk mitigation, of course.

 

Overthinking; the norm

Underwhelming; the courage 

Delayed ejaculation 

Fervor of imagination

 

Just waiting; 

Waiting;

Waiting;

What?

 

Boundaries blurred 

Panic heightened 

Lining up to begin and yet 

Wishing to know the end 

 

Mine, yours, ours, we.

Fucked it all; royally

Friends, family, strangers, lovers.

Crossed the lines, dot those tees

 

Stars fall, moons rise 

Watch the secrets 

In all their eyes 

Breathe in, blow out 

 

Fear first, then doubt;

Doubt;

Doubt;

Next!

Red Shifts & Blue Shifts

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Red Shifts & Blue Shifts

tunnel vision

carousel copse

dapples dancing through

Corporal light

then focus

Wylie Lane?

blurred like wind

on water

flight

edges lost in memory

plays

Donnelly?

a temporal shift

rift

the place where reasons haze

where I wanted to be

Home

where you are

not when

untethered

searching out my constant

38is 1444

unintended transparency

grasping wanting more

the fucking Witter factor…

questing for a restore point

Rose Hill? Latah?

syncope

half forgotten Arms of Ponderosa

seeking out the Coastline

drowning in the Fathom

the inevitableness of you

subsequent fear of losing it

now found

an unavoidable event horizon.

Hydrophobic

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Hydrophobic

Was reading about dry drowning
And I suddenly was four.
Remembering my mother’s hypervigilance surrounding me
“It only takes a teaspoon to drown!”
And this led to my flooded warren…
My Piscean draw to the moon
The tides
Sand and waves
My mermaidian desires
How it wasn’t her android pelvis holding me back
But my fear of leaving the amniotic
Funny now, I think of it.
How we need the water
We’re 75% or something
(Same as the earth herself)
But she refused to let us wear seat belts,
Because if we wrecked in the drink, we’d drown.
She was so scared of water.
Never did learn how to swim
Except for underneath
And strangely, she never did come up,
To surface so she died:
In the life giving force we need
And instilled the fear
But it only made me want it more
Then the thoughts, they jumped to you.
The cliffs we slid down in winter,
And the irony of the ocean that day
Your ass hitting the ice,
A frozen attempt at life
You lost me in the sea grass
But climbed a tree to scout me a path.
I’m not hydrophobic anymore.
Are you?

 

Crooked

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Like that imperfect bookshelf that your mother loves,
I love you.

Somehow it’s less about changing who you are and more about disregarding those pieces…

Those pieces:
You loathe
You hide
You fear
You think cannot be loved
Or made whole.

While you reconcile,
I quietly support
Bolster
Await
The day you love yourself.

Sucks to suck. 

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Sucks to suck. 

“Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”…

Always seemed like a terrible premise,

Until you.

I wish I could erase it 

as much as I never

ever

ever

ever want to forget. 

As soon as I decide my memory is wrong,

it wasn’t what I thought.

I’m only remembering positive things. 

Selective memory….

I come across something proving I wasn’t.

It was real.

It is real. 

It was possible for me. 

Then…
regret. 

Overthinking. 

Dwelling in the past. 

Praying for a redo. 

Scaling all against it. 

How can an experience fix you 

Yet break you 

all at the same time?

I wish I could hate you. 

Instead I hate me. 

Vernal Reveries

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Vernal Reveries

And it’s only now, that I get it.

Naivety and overconfidence. What a combo. 

 What though the radiance which was once so bright

 Be now for ever taken from my sight,

 Though nothing can bring back the hour

 Of splendour in the grass,

 of glory in the flower,

 We will grieve not, rather find

 Strength in what remains behind;

 In the primal sympathy

 Which having been must ever be;

 In the soothing thoughts that spring

 Out of human suffering;

 In the faith that looks through death,

 In years that bring the philosophic mind.

~ William Wordsworth