Its Scorpio season.
I saw a fairy ring around the moon, the sexy kind, not the one that says a storm’s comin’.
Although, I suppose they are one in the same. Bring on the wet and the boom.
I love the wet and the boom, or I did. I am not myself it seems.
Scorpions shed their exoskeletons. I wonder how pinched, agonizing and constrictive those last few moments are, before they become new again.
Its Scorpio season and I am wasting it.
Refusing to go outside. To look at any man or entertain them.
I want only one and he isn’t here.
I got dressed up, and I left the house.
On my way home in the dark after witnessing something sacred, I heard a new song.
It’s been forever since I let anything new in.
But this.
I scribbled lyrics on the back of my hand on a dark highway in the rain and disappeared into the melody.
Can you be slow for a little while?
Widow your soul for another mile?
I’m just the same as when you saw me back then
And we’re bound to be reconciled
And we’re bound to be reconciled
Too long swinging in the night
All will wash over you in a night so unending
Not long now to the rising
Not long now to the rising
Fleet Foxes, a song called “Kept Woman”.
Universe sending me messages in tattooed wings peeking out of dresses, numbers and new songs on a long dark road.
I kept speeding up and over reaching my headlights, a lot of curves in that stretch.
It’s been a long time since I drove it at night, and that was before Hamilton was home.
I should keep going right?
Universe says so…
But, there is always a “but”…
What is the universe if it isn’t him messaging me back, or even acknowledging my existence?
To the point where I don’t even want to be.
I can’t keep writing one side of a love story that never happened. I am bleeding out.
It’s killing me and I need my power back. I let it out in echoes and tendrils trying to wrap around him, but I am blocked and I am tired.
I went to a wedding, unconventional, something I didn’t even know happened outside of books.
A secret wedding. Officiated by a tiny woman with the same name as my mother. Who said she thought she knew me and my first response was, I wish you did. She was soothing.
I watched the couple (and others) interacting, so full of joy to be with each other. The gentle back and forth and teasing, the comfort.
I want that. I decided this.
Weddings never did anything for me, but that love, that conviction to stay together and try.
Star crossed love. A plague on both our houses.
Romeo and Juliet is often labeled a love story, it isn’t. It’s a tragedy and selfishness and miscommunication with a body count.
Together twice and then death, like literal death. That isn’t okay.
I should know, it just happened to me. And if he is poisoned underground, I have no way of knowing.
One miscommunication and I was locked out of the mausoleum.
Maybe people romanticise this story because they never saw each other get old, or dirty, or sick or a mess, or how they behaved when the internet went down.
Maybe that’s my problem too. Why I can’t break out of this.
I saw glimmers and glimpses of darkness in him. His eyes for one. I mentioned I had never dated anyone with dark eyes before, he said I was Wiccan and I ought to know what it meant, dark eyes, dark past. I just thought they looked like the night sky. Felt like night swimming, naked and unafraid in the heat of August. Not unafraid, but scared in that exhilarating way, like rollercoasters and unknowns.
The night before he left Panda said I was jinxing my own love karma. I don’t think she’s wrong. I was scared.
I was bargaining.
I’ve said many times out loud that I know I don’t get to keep the giant but I’m grateful for this time with him.
Trying to find the silver lining in this pit I’m in.
And I don’t want to seem like a brat to the universe.
But NO.
This isn’t what I wanted.
I’d put him to ground many times over.
Mourned him thoroughly.
I didn’t need to go back.
I knew he loved me and I’d found absolute contentment in his absence.
I did this and I don’t know how to undo it. I’m scared to use magic because I don’t want to hurt anyone.
But everything I held back the whole time was out of fear. Fear of spooking him. Fear of being vulnerable. Fear of actually finding the one after wandering so long. All I know is nomadic. I cry home all the time but when I had it I dropped it.
This full moon coming is in Taurus. He’s a Taurus.
I have to wash the green blanket and let him go.
All will wash over you in a night so unending
Not long now to the rising
I am a child of the universe and I am Bound to be reconciled.
One miscommunication – been there, we did that, a she and I, and ended, the way back lost. Do we fear that the real thing would be too much and hold back?
To be reconciled – not like reconciling my checkbook with my bank statement, not that kind, matching up the debits and credits – something more – something, yes, to do with the universe and the deep self.