May 2019

Mondays are the hardest.

Sundays aren’t so shit hot either.

Sundays I change the sheets that he never slept on and a bed he hasn’t laid down on yet.
In this room I made for the both of us.

I metamorphosized again. March into April was goo phase galore.
Wings are still wet and fragile.
Any fucking time now.
Surviving not thriving.

But my cocoon is splendid.

I realized the gypsy tea room was a regression to how I wanted to be in high school and shortly thereafter, but I never had the means, and shortly thereafter I became a mom, so what I wanted got put on the back burner until…right before I came here really.

Here.

Whoa oh oh oh oh

Here.

I ask myself what am I doing here.

Alessia Cara

I say Mondays are hard, but it’s the shortest night of the week at work, Tina 2 Chains is here and we are getting wings before work. And historically speaking, he calls more often on Tuesdays. I wrote it all down.

I am grateful for this room considering the events of the last few weeks. The universe timed this (and everything ever) perfectly. I needed a sanctuary and I have it.

Fight flight or freeze.

I am frozen.

We all are.

Meat popsicles.

Stripper burritos.

Metaphorically and in reality. The weather here sucks so bad.

I said if this doesn’t work out, I am packing up and leaving.

This was met with a rousing chorus of “no”.

Again, frozen girls don’t move. Just breathing and waiting.

This is the longest I have gone without hearing from Him.

I actually sat down and went through my call logs and texts. Looking for numbers and gaps. He was around more often than I thought. Not now, but then. He warned me about this last stretch and I will abide the warning.

Kinda proud of myself. I stayed brave. Wavering now. Crying a bit more than I was before. But it’s me, I cry, that is an integral part of who I am. And god knows it’s been a rough 111 days. Weeks went by in chaotic splendor and I have no idea how I kept breathing, much less moving forward.

Everything got fucked up and just kept changing and rearranging in ways that could not possibly have been predicted. Except I fucking told you so.

I would really like to be able to say those words again, about this.

Someone called me enduring once. She meant it condescendingly, but I am.

Even when I feel like I can’t keep going, I do.

It helps that I get little pushes from the universe. And I do trust the universe. Timing is always perfect even if it doesn’t suit my ego.

Friends of mine have their anniversary today, and one of the posts said something about ‘the best decision we ever made.’ I said those words. And the tarot cards say it’s not so bad*

Actually, the tarot cards said it was going to be glorious. Kings and Queens of Promise.**

Past me keeps leaving present me, presents. Words of encouragement, reminders I have been through worse. And the knowledge that I can get myself out of anything I get myself into. I don’t want out just yet. I’ll just persevere and see what happens. I made it this far.

Self-doubt is a motherfucker.

I found myself ready to let go, making ready with the funeral arrangements and a drunk girl at work swooped in and reminded me how beautiful and amazing I am. That he really does want to change and that, in her opinion, knowing both of us incredibly well, this is a really good idea.

Hard to argue with drunky voodoo mamabear stripper. She is Haitian hoodoo to my white girl witch and I love her. Out of the mouths of beautiful babes. She played with my hair and kissed my forehead.

Part of the doubt was… do I even remember how to do this?

I ended up answering my own question

Me: I don’t even know if I know how to girlfriend anymore anyways.

All I know is how to stay loyal, cook and fuck a lot.

Her: ….

Me: that’s a good girlfriend isn’t it?

Her: that’s wifey

Ok, so maybe I know exactly what I am doing. And maybe everything I ever learned makes sense now.

I’m an optimist.
If this isn’t meant to be then it will catapult me closer to wherever that is.
And I will always know I truly tried.

I want it to be this.

The best decision I ever made.

*The Wombats
**30 Seconds to Mars

I said “if this doesn’t work out I’m leaving.”

She said “you can’t.”

Never got around to telling me why not.

But truth be told.

I don’t like the way my ghosts behave here.

Too many mistakes and hauntings I can’t handle.

Um, excuse me? Cosmos, Karma, Universe, Papa Mercury…whomever is deciding to send in the clown parade? The above statement was not a challenge.

I wrote that, unprompted, Wednesday night.

Nothing bad had happened, I had just made up my mind about something else.

Lead me not into temptation.

There is no temptation here, just ghouls and goblins. Irritants and examples of what not to do.

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play
And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I’m always dragging that horse around
Our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground

…

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back

…

And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It’s a fine romance, but it’s left me so undone
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t
So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope
And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope
It’s a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
‘Cause looking for heaven, found the devil (in me)
Looking for heaven, for the devil in me
Well what the hell, I’m gonna let it happen to me

Shake it Out
Florence and her glorious Machine

It IS hard to dance with the devil on your back, or in the audience.

And given half the chance, I would take almost all of it back. I am now the queen of denial.

Let’s pretend that never happened.

Torn between calling this Send in the Clowns, and Shake the Baby, Shake it Out.

The week of Paddy’s Day was the last week of the dead. Sometimes they come back.

And just when I think I am done…

This seems a shitty thing to be writing about after such a long hiatus.

But, I am feeling trapped in my room and my life yet again. Might as well leave myself some kind of time capsule for when al of this is over and a new chapter or 5 have begun.

I do that. In Facebook memories and on here. 3 years ago (right around now) I considered giving this blog up for a man I hadn’t met yet, but had spoken to for days and days over the course of 2 years. Who I thought cared, and maybe in his own sick and twisted way he did. But I deserve better, I know that now.

If I can love someone as is, and I do. I deserve the same.

I am also comfortable enough being alone, that I don’t have to settle.

To all the ones who had the chance to do right by me and didn’t. Fuck you.

Mark said last night “all men should have a healthy fear of women.”

This came on the heels of a few people saying they are scared of me. Truth be told, I am too, but we will get to that later.

When asked for an explanation, he put it like this.

Say you are at a zoo, there are 50 people in an enclosure petting a bear. You could go in and pet the bear too and nothing bad could happen, or you could poke the bear and it might start mauling people. It could even start mauling people if you don’t poke it. Knowing this is a healthy respect and fear of the bear.

There was a boy at the bar poking the bear. I am the bear.

But I have to be nice to customers, and that is all he is. A customer.

6 hours later I wasn’t so nice.

I am on a fairly permanent patience breach. That cup was long filled and now the smallest splash sends me over the edge. I had to quit drinking, like finally HAD to.

I was regressing and getting violent. This is the part where I was scaring myself.

I got white girl whisky wasted a few weeks ago, ghost showed up. Lied through his teeth while speaking to me and by the end of it he said, “I’m sorry, I am a piece of shit.” To which, according to eyewitnesses, I grabbed him by the shoulders, shook the baby and roared an agreement.

Really wish I could remember doing it. Secondhand satisfaction will have to do.

My heart is a graveyard and the bodies won’t stay down. I don’t even care anymore.

I got through the first poltergeist rattling his sad gold chain. Figured that was enough for the night.

Nope. Universe said, “you forgot one”.

I looked across the bar at this man who looked very familiar. Watched him for a good 5 minutes. Still wasn’t sure.

Walked up to him, and asked “do I know you?”

“Oh my god, Sarah?”

Fucking fuck.

I then found myself going toe to toe with a biker and had him cower. His buddies too. “What did you do to her dude? She’s terrifying.” They gave me a wide berth after. Wish the others would get the message and stop poking the bear.

When I said this island was haunted I didn’t mean double down and send in the worst and the last of the clowns in the same fucking night.

Ferfucksakes

It wasn’t a challenge.

At least that’s done then.

I find myself uttering the words “well now I know you aren’t dead” a little too often here.

Biker guy said he was home from Alberta because his dad died. I said sorry for your loss and walked away.

In the immortal words of Stephen King “no great loss.”

He was absolutely inconsequential. One good date, one bad, then ghost. Never slept with him. Glad I didn’t. Truth be told, I had forgotten about him almost entirely. But for some reason, the universe wants me to cut ALL loose ties, and burn the edges to stop the fray.

Can I be done now?