Harm’s Way

This is the war and not the warning ~ 54-40

The pen is the sword ~ Unknown

Yellow doesn’t look good on me. Orange neither, especially not when it’s Orange Alert. That’s the color right before Red, means the hand is on the button, ready to drop bombs. Let it not come to that. Yellow, the color of cowardice, jaundice meaning the body is being toxified. Orange, reminds me of Agent Orange, someone in the war machine decided to poison everything so they could fight better. There is a sickness and a cancer here and it must be cut out before it spreads.

Let this end with a trade embargo. I ain’t buying your shit.

I tell all of my man-friends “Please don’t stick your dick in crazy”. And when they stick their dicks in the crazy chicks and it ends badly, which it always does, I am here to listen and console. I keep my “I told you so’s.” to a bare minimum.
Thankful for that because, ‘hey boys I let crazy stick it’s dick in me.’

Please don’t judge, just come get me.

Rally the troops.

I am in harm’s way.

I did the thing I warn against and got sucked into a riptide. Trying to roll with it but I am tired and I am scared. Life preserver please. Over there, to the left.

Scared isn’t a big enough word. Terror, yes, that one. I am terrified.

What am I new?

“What manner of man is this?” Bram Stoker’s Dracula

I love you Sarah, all of you.

You lead I follow.

Don’t change.

(All the things I wanted to hear)

(Then)

I’m going to need you to give up sleep, routines, job, any semblance of peace and normalcy in exchange for drama and feeding my ego. The only way I can feel any worth is to watch you change for me right in front of me.

Oh, “you can keep writing but only about me”.

Don’t talk to him or about him.

(All the things I have heard before)

No.

I have been down that road so many times the locals call me by name. “Come inside, have a cup of tea, meet the Missus” (Labyrinth). But there is no castle here, no goblin king, and no imaginary army of lovable misfits. Just poisoned fruit, control issues and this road just leads to purgatory. Spent years there, trying to farm in a desert and make a life with another Gemini who had no idea who I am, what I require, just wanted me on lockdown. Mine mine mine. Me me me.

No no no.

Never again.

The streets are lined with red flags. The words “You’re everything to me”, “You’re all I have” stitched into them. And the worst one, written in neon flashing lights colouring everything he said “You must continually prove to me that I am good enough for you by carving pieces off yourself, I’ll give you the knife.” (And another knife, and some brass knuckles and a baton)

Please let this be a cautionary tale.

If something sounds like it’s out of a movie. It probably is. If things don’t add up, it’s because the math is bad and you are trying to smell the number nine. Something rotten in Denmark? Get the fuck outta Denmark, retreat to a safe distance. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. Go home and lock the door, then add chain locks and get yourself on the fast-track transfer list. Stay with a friend. Duck and cover. Stop drop roll and tell an adult.

If he yells, he will yell again. If he uses your words against you he will do it again. If he lies he will lie again and again and again.

Run. Watch your six and run.

One month, everything escalated so quickly I didn’t see it. Standing in the forest missing the trees. Sucked into the dribbles of drama not realizing I was drowning in an ocean of it.

All of my energy systematically pulled out of me until I was actually physically sick from it. My body rebelling, my molecules needing me to stop. So I did.

The repercussions are immense.

I have to move.

Home is not safe right now.

Change my work schedule.

Change my number.

Change my life over letting the wrong man in my bed/life/house.

Mission accomplished, gold star. He made me change, just not the way he wanted.

Had to call a cop friend and suffer the embarrassment of a 41 year old woman who has been down this road before and spill it. “You know how I come across as this fairly intelligent woman with her shit together…well I am not.” I did the thing again. 15 years later. The whole ugly story. Sounds so ridiculous coming out of my mouth in a lump like that. But I swallowed the entire elephant, one fucking bite at a time. I didn’t realize what I was eating washing it down with crocodile tears.

I have my pride, but survival is more important. I threw up the elephant and swallowed said pride.
Said out loud “I really fucked up and I really need help.”

Oh the irony, that is all I was trying to do, was help. Now I need it.

“How many times are we going to do this Sarah?” This is the second. The first time ended as badly as anything could end. With police reports and court. Bruises and hospitals. Rape and break-ins. At least I know better now, mostly. I got out in time.

My boys came, reinforced doorways added locks to keep me safe(r). Screenshots, collected printed and sent to safe places. Photographs of weapons I never wanted, archived. Gathering Intel only. Recon in hopes I don’t have to go to war. Forces on standby. Foxholes dug, plans made. Harbours in the tempest. Usually my job to be the warm, safe place. I have many and I am grateful for my small army, the army of me.