Ending the Week Badly

As the week ends, things have just went from bad to worse.  It wasn’t enough that Veronica sent me that poem; and it wasn’t enough that I got pictures instead of an invite to spend time with my babies on their birthdays.  In all honesty, this trumps both of those items on my fucked up week list: One of my recruiters died last week and we weren’t even notified until yesterday.  Why?  Simply because the corporate structure in which I work in doesn’t value life there.  The family had been calling and calling and calling trying to get in touch with someone and phone calls weren’t being returned.  So they had to come down to the building, still grieving to talk to folks in person.  How fucked up is that?  Luckily, it was towards the end of the day because if it was earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.  In my stint at the company, I have known four people to pass away, three of which, I talked to at least three times a week, if not more.  Of course death is one of those things that make you appreciate life a little more, if even for the moment and I have never been more thankful of the positive changes I have made in the last several months which I have allowed me to see that people care about me.  I love my friends and I tell them so, even if that may not be the man thing to do.  People need to know these things.  I know they need to know because I need to know.  Death tends to bring people closer than after a week or so people go back to their normal routines.  Not me–not this time.  I will appreciate those that I call friends even more and I will no longer allow Veronica to anger me for a long period of time.  I respect the space she is in, but I will not stop loving her or seek revenge for the hurt she continues to cause me (I reached out to her to console me in this time of need and she just shut down and of course, I want to make the excuse for her that she is currently sick).  I will not allow others to make me falter.  Today, I pledge this, as I hope to keep growing and getting stronger inside myself.  Today, I start a new journey of self discovery and promise toward a better me.  If not for me, for the recruiter, Elizabeth, whom I wish I got to know just a little more. 

Day After the Rain

I was pretty much feeling negative all yesterday.  Fortunately, I was able to muster a smile and pretend that I didn’t care that I wasn’t going to see my babies on their birthday.  I told a couple of co-workers and they felt bad for me, I guess, but I’m not the sympathetic type.  I don’t tell people things for them to feel sorry for me. I tell them so they leave me alone.  I really just want to be left to my own devices wallowing in my self-pity.  I am so tired of being the victim, even though I’m really not, my mind is telling me I am.  i know that for the most part, I’m the reason my current relationship status is this way–I can’t have what I want, so I refuse to move on.  I know it’s me, but I wish or hope or both if they aren’t one in the same, that there is a light for me at the end of this dark tunnel somewhere.  Hope is overrated to tell the truth.  Magic/miracles only happen to those that, at least, know how to obtain what they want.  They just might need an extra push.  I don’t know how to move forward or hell, even backward for that matter.  I’m just here thinking about my cats and how I never imagined I would be this upset about a cat’s birthday.  Well, they aren’t just any old cats.  They are MY cats.  Birthday presents to me.  Love that was bestowed upon me that Veronica and I both shared.  Now it’s just her. Taking care of them and smiling and laughing at them while I sit in these fucking bleachers and I can’t see shit.  I really hate my life and the way it has turned out. I just don’t know how to move anymore.  I fake my happiness at work because I’m not really sure how many more disgruntled chances I’m going to get.  I smile at home so my mom will know that I’m ok and I smile at my friends so they won’t worry so much.  Quite frankly, it is draining to talk about my emotions.  I feel so dead inside and I keep waiting for something that may never come.  I want Veronica back because she is my soulmate–I just feel that everyday no matter what she or anyone else tells me–and I want Piper and Kahlo back–they are rightfully mine and I have missed so much with them. Life just isn’t fair in no respect.  As I plead to the universe to give me something, I just may have many more years of just blowing smoke and air and then I’m dead trying.

Protect My Heart?

When I got up this morning, I could literally feel the anxiety in my chest and going down my back. Today will be hard. Today will be difficult, but I will make it through just as I have my entire life. A friend of mine told me to protect my heart and my response: There’s “nothing to protect when no one wants it”. It is how I really feel, but it’s honest in only that I don’t want anyone to want it. The only person I want and need is Veronica. It doesn’t really matter how she feels about it because it is beyond her. I can’t protect my heart against something I can’t fight–the essence of her just brings me to my knees and cowardly bow to her will. This post really isn’t about her though, but about my cats. Since it is Piper and Kahlo’s birthday today, that is the main focal point of sadness. As if they were human, I would enjoy getting up and getting their food together and on a day like today, with enthusiasm, I would wish them both a Happy Birthday, complete with picking them up and kissing them on their noses. As much as they depended on my care of them, I depended on them to return it in their own cat-like way and they always found a way. They understood. I would lay down and tell Kahlo to give daddy kisses and she would come, of course in her own pace, to lick my face and provide her version of a purr. It was pure and relaxed me–my anxiety and that is something I don’t think I have ever really thought about until just now. I have always had a fascination for wild cats, especially lions, but my babies provided me with 1) the best birthday present ever–THEMSELVES and 2) reciprocated love and there is no greater feeling to me than receiving love. I am happy that the money I sent to my nerd will be put to good use. She was excited and told me via text that she would use the money to buy them a laser light stand. They are going to definitely love it and even though I won’t be around to see their joy in it, I did what I could in the moment for them. Having hope for something is a struggle within itself because even when you tell herself not to, the mere mention of the word brings it to the forefront of your brain and it lingers. With that said, I can honestly say I had some hope that Veronica was going to invite me over to celebrate the day, but I have so much fear there. There is so much anxiety when I think of what is and what isn’t and it is a pattern that I am finding it very difficult to break. See, I can’t even protect my heart from myself.

The Poem

Veronica just texted me a poem she wrote, which by all accounts, in my opinion, is pretty good.  However, that is not the point right now.  As I read it over and over, I feel the hurt in it and as the tears fall down my face, I wonder how many tears she still sheds over a love lost.  Now, because it is not my own, I will not post it, but it has me in shambles right now, to say the least.  There isn’t a day that has went by in the past year that I haven’t thought about where things took a turn for the worse, when she had given up and why I was the way I was.  It hurts me to my core, down to barely audible breathing at times, to know that I have put the love of my life through this much turmoil; this much pain causing her to rethink who she really is, possibly second guessing any of the love and care she has provided me over the years.  It is her who has helped me realize that I need therapy for issues way beyond and before her.  And now, with my blackouts and other mental outbreaks, that I may need medicine as well.  It is always her, where my mind, where my heart, go back to as if she is the beginning.  Although, she really isn’t, she is the love that broke me down to ashes–just where I needed to be to see that the life I was living wasn’t the best and that I have demons in me running rapid.  If she could only see and had something left in her to know that love I have for her is beyond real and I can be the man, the husband she desires and the father of our once-planned children, life would be better than it ever has been before.  She is truly the option I would  always choose, obviously, even now.

My Babies Birthdays are Tomorrow

On days like today–a day away from a special day, I miss my old life even more.  Well, some of the great things about my old life–cuddling up next to my nerd while Piper struggles to find a space between us to lay and Kahlo down below, on the floor, looking up at me with uncertainty, what about me? Of course, at this point, I would attempt to pick her up.  She would either run off to do her own thing or allow me the opportunity to rub her gently then jump down off of me the next second.  For some reason, there weren’t many times when Piper and Kahlo liked to share us.  It was either one or the other, fighting for supremacy to gain entry into our circle.  Being the bigger of the two, Piper usually won by default, but I would always attempt to give my baby Kahlo some extra love and care.  I felt like she understood me.  We were one in the same.  She liked to be touched when she felt like it.  She liked to be held when she felt like it and wanted love and attention when she felt like it–just like me.  On this day, the day before their birthday (and yes, my nerd and I celebrated her cats birthdays) I’m sad and lonely.  The memories of what life was like in those happy moments always come in a flood, overwhelming my senses.  So much so I can feel their fur against my skin and smell them as if they were in front of me.  As I know, yet again, that my ex has been a doing an excellent job caring for them, loving them and giving them the attention as best she can, I still miss them.  I want them and I want her and I want us. . .again.

Random Conversation With Her

The other night I talked to my nerd and I really need to stop calling her mine, I know. She is definitely not mine any longer and hasn’t been for many months now. Anyway, we go through the standard cordial stuff of how ya been and such then she asks me if she can tell me something. Of  course I agree because what she has to say will either be my ultimate demise or the happiest day I’ve had in very long time.  She proceeded to tell me that she slept with another person and how she felt about it.  I don’t care about the act itself because I can’t expect her not to. I really think that would be selfish of me at this point.I am more interested in how she interacts with them. If she touches them with the same love and passion she touched me with–that sort of thing. I’m just that inquisitive to want to know the similarities and differences.  At the end of the day though, nothing matters, but the love I have for her. I cherish that much, at least.

Salt in the Wound

pried open
wounds combed
over by scabs
recently formed
through blood soaked

arrogance watches
on the sidelines
like vultures preying
on a remorse-full soul
battered by knife-wielding anger
cut throat so forgiveness
can’t be heard
evil intentions rest in the mind’s eye
yet this heart clenches
sweet memories of smiles and fingers interlocked

in these wounds glittered
with salt
burning with hatred
scorned by a lover’s victim