Ouf

My words are in the blue box.

 

Mind fuck trouty pouty mouthed boy made of ouf and magic. You should see the rest of his face, spectacular.

Way too beautiful, talented, sweet and wise to be a ghost.

“If he sees her as a person and not an object, it’s harder to tear her up”. (Silence of the Lambs)

I don’t want to equate him with a fictional serial killer but I worry.
So just in case this is a whole new kettle of narcissistic fish that I am not remotely capable of dealing with…

Until you can see what you are capable of, I bind you from doing harm. Harm against others and harm against yourself. So mote it be.

(Author’s note *16-3-16 I severed the binding, as you were and as you wish.)

You knew I was a witch, you called it.

You knew I was a writer too, fair warning given and squandered. Silence gives consent.

Perhaps he is the same as I was when I was 22, just a destructive force, a hurricane that thought itself a light afternoon sprinkle. So here it is.

Yesterday I was so upset I vomited. Cried that hard. My thoughts turned wicked, I wanted to lash out and hurt the thing that hurt me. But in speaking with Our Lady of Sara Lord I realized something. Revenge is not justice. I don’t want this coming back at me. I really hate throwing up. Once was enough.

Website was restored a few days ago so I set about amending and correcting and uploading links into old posts. To do so I had to scroll back through Facebook message archives to find a link. Stumbled on something buried there. Looked familiar, like deja vu.

My brain has done this before. Blocked something out, way bigger than this, the reason I left my hometown. After everything I put up with, there was this one thing that finally made me say fuck it for reals. (see The Ballad of Golden Boy)

So I know what I am capable of.

I tried.
I tried to have perspective. “He was 22, he had no idea what he was doing, and it wasn’t that great or that big of a deal”. Asked myself, how am I going to be an optimist about this? (Bastille) I tried to let go without dealing or healing. Phantom limbs itch. It’s a rule. This one was only mostly severed and rather gangrenous. Told you, I puked.

Heart and Brain got together in the dead of night and smuggled him right out of my head. Tucked him into a posh oubliette. Not like the one Catherine Martell escaped from, the one he put me in. I gave him pillows and running water. I take harm from others, I don’t inflict it. I needed him gone. But he got out, and came back.

I almost got away with it, and I would have it if hadn’t been for you meddling kids. Nah, no kids. It was me. I looked at the can of worms, read the warning label and opened it anyways. Twice.

He didn’t do anything bad per say except the vanishing act. I blocked out the good, the ouf, the intensity with which he came at me. Decided I made it all up, I didn’t.

It started like this.

Him: Watching you tonight, I had a reoccurring and overwhelming urge to please you.

The next day…

“As we talked about last night you need to love yourself before you can go out and experience the true joy of others. Then it’s the challenging part of finding someone compatible to share that with. So it becomes trial and error again which isn’t easy sometimes. Keep being expressive and don’t let anyone stifle that. I can’t express how thrilled I am in feeling so comfortable with you and feeling like I can say whatever I want. I’m much like you in the way that I closed myself off for a while. It was needed but also frustrating at times. But now I’m finding a new confidence in being bolder around what I say and how I act. I’m a very sexual being and haven’t had the compatibility with someone with the person I am today. Feeling thankful for meeting you.”

(I believed him. Wouldn’t you?)

He called me Queen and Love often.

I became aware of these poignant moments in the day where I just KNEW he was reminiscing about us, hit me right in the girly bits. I felt safe enough to ask and I was right, or so he said.

Me: Also, you mentioning we met a week ago today. ..I melted a bit

Him: Don’t melt on me I need you solid

Me: Sorry. What now? It was a smiling melt

Him: I’d rather eat you than drink you

(OUF)

Later that week…

 

He said.

 

“Hey Love as you can probably tell I’ve been really busy! Thinkin of you often and it helps to relieve some stress. Would have loved to have seen you today! Hope all is well with you, and keep firing away messages towards me and I’ll do my best to get back to you as quickly as I can. Xox

“I was disappointed too. And I was aware of yours and it made my heart tear a bit.”

I believed him.

It ended like this

…

Just an ellipses, without word or warning, he was gone. I saw him once more by accident, he promised we’d go on rollercoasters, told me everything was alright and vanished into thin air again. Tore my heart a bit.

This is how I let go. My lessons and memories are mine to keep.

I feel obligated to teach.

No, not that. In that way he was just about perfect.

1. If you were just trying to get laid, don’t try so hard next time, you are beautiful and valuable there is nothing about you that needs to be fabricated or exaggerated. You are enough.
2. If you come at someone in an overwhelming manner, expect to be overwhelmed. That intensity you felt was a good thing. I had no designs on trying to keep you, just enjoying you and being enjoyed. You are enough.
3. Me, her, the one after her…we are all people not objects, please don’t tear us up. Enough is enough.

There is nothing wrong with making a grand entrance (you are grand), but you sullied yourself by slinking out the back door. Saying goodbye is  kindness not weakness.

The limb is cut, clean and healing but I know I’ll still feel it, now with much less crying, more wistful smiling.

So mote it be.