Listen. . . .

40 more milligrams and I shouldn’t care.  But I do.

I see things I know I would be best not seeing…  Yet I am a creature that needs to know.  I feel better equipped.  Better footed on where my next step should be, how to protect myself . . . and there is that irresistible urge . . . . To see what it once was like.  What it could be like, what it should be like and is capable of  . . . yet I am treated as though I am not privileged or privy to such courtesies.

Always the thorn in the side.  I wonder why?  Because I call out Bullshit?  Because I demand respect?  In order to get respect?  Isn’t that what they teach you? Because I have granted forgiveness over distrustful deeds? Because I don’t believe in being involved in contradiction and demands that the other side does not comply with themselves or carry out?

“3 strikes you’re out” doesn’t seem to apply to me. Why?   Because I know the goodness is there.  I tasted it a few times,  and am greedy for more.  Why should it not be mine?  I have given no known discourse as to why it should not be.  Especially when I have given so freely.

You get what you give . . . right?  Isn’t that the rule?  Do unto others and blah blah blah?  I think I have, and then some.  Loved with all my might.  Forgave and compromised.  Adjusted and tried to move on, even though the wounds stung and every once in awhile there is that salt of a reminder rubbed into them.

Stupid Hope for a turn around.  Stupid hope for recognition of what is good.

I am the good.

I want the adoration I have seen bestowed on so many before me.  Even the ones who are fleeting and verbal. I want the appreciation.  I want the desire.  I know it is capable.  I catch glimpses of it from the past and outside.  It hurts that there is only frustration, deflection, and denial.  Why?  I was not the one who overstepped.  Lied.  Denied and then threw the blame back.

Hiding dirty minutes under the dirty mattress.  Do they itch?

It will always go back to this.  For it is the root.  Insecurity.  Festering, always, under the rug in which it is swept under.  Rotting away the floorboards that need to provide the stability.  It is there.  It will stay there until it is swept up and thrown away for good.

Sunday night I had a dream.  I was taking care of a giant Porcupine.  It was in another room so as not to prick anyone with its quills.  I knew I had to go in and feed it, yet knew I had to be very careful of not getting a quill stabbed into me.  I can remember seeing it lumber about the room, quills it had shed laying about the floor.

Porcupine– To see a Porcupine in your dream suggests that you need to look out and protect yourself from emotional and psychological harm.  Trust and honesty are important qualities.  Alternatively, a porcupine indicates there is a situation which you need to approach with openness.  Someone in your waking life may be on the defensive and are not be exposing their vulnerabilities.

Interesting.  Almost premonition.  My subconscious speaks to me in animal symbols.

I left not because I wanted to, but because you didn’t care.   I am not reaching out because I don’t want to, but because you do not care.

Actions.  Deafening

I don’t know what it is you want from me. . .

Wine Weekend, Stupid Boy and The Moment.

There has been some upheavals in my “romantical” life.  Not going to get into specifics on this side of things, but there has always been trust issues.  The fact that I have been feeling quite disconnected from my boyfriend, doesn’t help with the insecurities that overwhelm me from time to time.  What he says, and what he does are two totally different things it seems.  That and how it seems that he rarely is ever sympathetic or takes full responsibility for his actions. (and i am not over exaggerating, for others have pointed this out to me as well.)

We had a blow out last weekend which ended with me leaving (once again) and getting incredibly upset, to the point where I threw a bunch of stuff off his dresser.  It’s not behavior I’m proud of, but it happened, and well, what’s done is done.  Nothing broke. It was just a mess he had to clean up.  Not that that makes it any better.

Anyways, this weekend coming up I will be partaking in a Girl’s weekend.  A hoop friend will be coming up from Indiana, and we are all meeting in Jackson, MI for a wine tour. 

After all the drama and stress from my relationship (and general seasonal blase as well, oh, and topped with lingering sadness from my ex’s suicide) I am REALLY looking forward to this.


Yet there is still some lingering anxiety over this trip, which comes from the fact that anytime I plan an excursion with my friends, it comes under incredible scrutiny and judgement from the boyfriend(?)

It’s like he can’t just be happy for me or supportive. He can’t just be like “That sounds like fun and I will miss you!”

I know this “feeling” is all with in me.  I need to just be like Fuck you pal, but my “pleasing” nature and my not wanting to rock the boat demeanor keeps bubbling up, and I start to feel bad about wanting to, ohh, enjoy the things I enjoy.

So whatever.

I’m not going to let it get to me.  Instead, I am going to focus on time spent with incredible women, drinking wine, hooping it up and laughing my butt off.

And being in the moment.

Cause that’s what life should be all about.  Being in the moment, and not getting caught up in the insecurities.