Indiana Jones and the Sweater of Doom

March 6^{th  2:30am}
As I was drifting off, a thought made me sit up and utter a rather loud ‘what the actual fuck’ to no one.

I fucking forgot to pay rent.

I have lived on my own since I was 15 years old. I’ve avoided paying rent sure, but forgotten?
Not like this. Especially not for 7 days.

The fuck is wrong with me?

My girl is coming over after a week of continued unheeded reminders to get my car on the road. She is now just doing the things I cannot, taking me by the hand and taking me to the Ministry. My adultier adult.

Granted, I took in a foster puppy for 2 weeks so I had an excuse to be on lockdown. But she has been eating on her own for a week now, and putting herself to bed, so that excuse ran thinny a while ago. Plus she left yesterday.

My Sunrise took me out for brunch and belly laughs today. I told her what I had done/not done and she said I got caught in a Leap Day vortex of sorts. I have been known to bend time on occasions, but this isn’t bent, it is broken. I am lost and nothing is linear. Getting warmer.

It’s supposed to get really nice out tomorrow and stay that way. No longer sweater weather.

I was thinking ‘okay, time to catch up with my life. Do one big thing a day. Make lists and adult that shit.’

Laying some groundwork this evening, cleaning, sorting laundry…

Seemingly innocent task, kinda Zen, necessary.

Nope.

Suddenly I am Indiana Jones and dirty clothes turned into an archaeological dig and I unearthed the outfit I wore the last time I was with the Giant.

I crumbled.

Cried so hard I couldn’t breathe.

My kid had to pull me out of a pile of laundry like Short Round on some rescue mission in a collapsed diamond mine cursed by a mummy or some shit.

I remember posting to Facebook “Sub-Zero wins, I am wearing a sweater on date night.”

Glad I did, he chose the coldest night of the year to make me charcoal barbequed steaks.

I asked him to stay with me and he said he would.

He didn’t.

It was the last supper.

---

Why can’t I stop?

I am a crier admittedly.

I am this guy’s wife, with amendments and additions.
If I even think about Schindler’s List and or the Notebook fuckin’ fuggedaboutit, I am done.

Any of my friends? You cry I cry, that is a given, I am an empath.

Certain tones, smells, songs, make me weepy.

But this is soul sobbing. Over a sweater and a boy I knew a month.

I don’t know why this is happening, I know it isn’t normal even for me, the girl who cries, and I don’t know how to stop it. Even I’m getting sick of my own shit.

I made it 3 days.

Lie detector determines that is a lie. I cried at brunch, I was laughing that hard.

Oh ya, being lied to makes this awful bell ring in my ribcage and the reverberation shakes the tears outta me.

I used to cry like that when I knew ex-hubby was lying, but it was different, there was a rage behind it.

When the Poet went dark I fell in a hole. That first night was the worst, Nika held vigil from afar. But that was 2 years in and 2 days out.

Gelfling, I saw a dead doe on the road and just knew we were done. I felt like something got torn away, not a limb or anything more like a tether. 2 days and I wasn’t happy per say but I functioned and moved forward. Even when he came back and reopened the wound, I was fine in a day. Practice.

I thought I lost Drogo, lost a night there. Was fine by morning. And then we talked it out over nachos and chuckled at my silliness.

When Wolfling ghosted I was just like ‘what the fuck’. 2 tears maybe 3.

High School Sweetheart was more of a long coming catharsis. That first night was hard but in an afraid of the unknown kinda way, then I was relieved. 26 years, I was pretty used to him being gone.

Our Sara of Lords said “Tell me why you’re so focused on Giant.”

Deep breath.

I miss his energy.
I feel naked and cold without it. Like I’m lost.
Like something bad is happening all the time.
I feel like what he is doing is wrong/bad for him.
And I miss him constantly.

Leah said “If he was that important he’d be with you.” She has a maddening point that sounds like truth.

I posted the laundry incident to Facebook and one of my other girls said “It sounds like you are in love.” She also has a point that sound like the truth.

Both points are currently pointless.

I am scouring the internet for some magical meme that can make this stop.
So far, this…

Music is having an adverse effect.

I’ve been paying attention to what girl is next on stage so I can leave before a song knocks me on my ass and back into the changeroom, my mascara costs about 60 bucks a tube. I cannot keep doing this.

Sara is helping…
“I’m wondering if it’s his, only his energy you miss. Or the combination of that list you just made.  My friend Monika the writer just wrote about the void.  And you said the word.  I’m sending it to you. Not saying you don’t miss him.  But something feels different.  You feel desperate. You don’t do desperate. I worry.”

She sent me this.

Solar Eclipse in Pisces: Goddess Rising – Earth Shifts.

PORTAL that is the word I was looking for, I fell in one and I have no idea when I am.

The blessed double eclipses are coming and the space between is sublime, blissful, magic.

I showed up early.

Sara says

“…you lost an unknown. I know it’s far more complicated. I know your heart is hurting.
He is with her. Release. Fill the Void. We even do best in Chaos. And then Create.”

The first eclipse on a new moon falls on Yugadi, New Year. Kali. Time to destroy and start anew. Ohm Nayam Shivaya.

Bud White: The Night Owl made you. You sure you want to tear all this down?
Ed Exley: With a wrecking ball, want to help me swing it?
(L.A. Confidential)

There is another side to this wormhole/portal/vortex and I will see you there.