free love

Valentines day may be over but love is everyday and this quote says a lot about what love is to me or a part of it. Love is of the heart and we are not storybooks, we are people and like all things in life, we change. So does love, it sometimes leaves just like it comes out of nowhere or grows. We have to accept all parts of it and ourselves. Love is not definitions or demands or a script to be followed. It's not math...it just is. Let it be what it is in the time it is given.

recycled

There is one area of my life and my rebirth as an individual I either just attract or as is often the case I feed into. Probably more the latter the more i learn about myself because i control the exchange and what is given and I know this but it is the single area I still have not overcome at times.

To put it simply without details or analysis: I must  be the best emotional substitute boyfriend in the world. I attract this situation in my life way too often and it is an endless cycle of me giving and being taken until I am dry. It is up to me to look to myself rather than my old ways of putting others first which is hard because I love helping others and having them KNOW I am genuine but I deserve genuine in return.

Time to take out the trash.

reality

The only thing I have learned to count on is me.
After more heartache than I can stand but even I let myself down all too often.

Growth

The dream began with the low rumble of thunder as my eyes refocused to the soft glow of my darkened room. I lay awake counting the seconds between the initial wave of low quakes from above and the next. They say each second is a mile and the time between each sound tells you how far away it is from you. I counted 20 seconds. 20 miles away if this particular old wives tale is correct. The thunder grew louder the second time as if demanding my attention and calling me from my slumber. I lay motionless and stared out through the shade watching the collage of trees at the yards edge sway and pulse with the wind. Slow motion at first and then violently for moments at a time giving into the gusts. The forest made a slow and mournful hiss as the storm winds invaded each branch and limb, stirring the leaves from their hidden corners of the vast woods. I watched the tips of each tall tree bounce back and forth, dancing with each other, pushing to and fro in a casual and loose stretch as if they might start walking away to find a quieter corner in which to settle.

Soft raindrops melted my view of clarity as the light grey darkened soaking the green trees and grass with a clear slick coating of water, tweaking their natural color to a sharp black and white as the charcoal clouds pushed restlessly overhead. Each drop rang in my ears and echoed through empty rooms in my house, now dimly lit by the high contrast white tint from the storm outside. It seemed safe and warm here in this bed. In this house. A streak of white light electrified the air and brought me to my feet. Now standing by the opposite window facing the field just past my front yard, lined on each side with rows of trees as well as the vast green forest facing me directly across the narrow rural dirt road that cut through the dense thicket to the small lot I call home.

The rain pelted the glass now and at times sounded like it was being thrown by the handfuls. I placed my palm flat on the cold pane of glass and witnessed the outline of my fingers spread like frost across the window and onto the wall, cracking as it fled outward and down the hall. The thunder shook the house, I saw the wheat stalks in the field, previously moving aimlessly in mock motion like the sea at high tide suddenly fall flat to the ground with the powerful gust directly towards my tiny widow. Every tree. Every blade of grass, even small rocks and gravel from the dirt road marched towards me. Another bright flash of light and thunder erupted under my feet and in that moment everything stopped. Dead quiet. A small pebble of rain tapped the window where my hand still rested creating a tick-tock splintering effect throughout the frozen wall. The house blew away from me on all sides, as I remained static in the air. The wooden floor peeled away under me like strips of old paint as I floated down onto the soft damp bed of grass below. Gales of wind and rain, hail and dust assaulted me, filling my mouth and plastering my clothes to my body until they too blew away, disintegrating and melted away from me flying backwards. I looked back into the black swirling vortex as it swallowed my house, now in timbers like a Popsicle house busted on the playground. Everything blurred as it was sucked into that pitch black hole, even the trees bled green taking the color and chemistry of nature and collapsing it into itself. I stood against it unmoved, my eyes stung, my hair flat against my scalp as I felt it lengthen with the pull behind me. Naked now, the storm pushed down on me.

The forest ahead of me rose up like a tsunami wave over the dirt road and the sky went onyx black, almost negative. Trees uprooted and tumbled on top of one another above me and then cascading around me. The air smelled of pine, must and dirt. The earth was reasserting itself. The wind pushed through in bursts blasting showers of rock and water in piles. My feet sunk into the mesh-like web of grass and roots through to the soft rich soil below me, growing and twisting downward, taking hold, intertwining with the layers of dirt, shell and rock. I saw my hand, still outstretched against the blistering force of the storm. My fingertips shook and rattled, sprouting and splitting off into pieces. Small flowering buds pressed upward and burst out of my skin, which now was covered by a soft rubber coating; a gray membrane spotted with specs of vibrant green moss. With a load crack, my hand split open in the middle, pulling apart as the force of the wind peeled it backwards. The two flopping limbs wrapped around my body and tightened into a spiraling coil, sprouting outward immediately. They grew upward into a thousand tiny limbs and twigs, one flowing into the next, weaving an umbrella of branches above my head.

I felt myself stabilize, my feet now planted firmly below the soil, my arms and body one solid trunk that stretched and flowed like a river as it spread out on a map to each tiny vein-like ending. All that remained of me was my head resting in the center, my hair a knotty tangle of vines and leaves. I closed my eyes as my head fell forward meeting the first soft curve of a huge branch. The vines spilled forward, wrapping themselves around my trunk and into the ground. A soft rustle echoed past the other fallen trees now taking root beside me as the storm blew past, now a distant memory. The smokestack gray sky gave way to the sun as it shed beams of soft warm light lighting the newly settled forest floor. Leaves gathered and rocks found spots to nestle, adding support and comfort. All I could hear was the still tranquility and steady hum of growth.

The last thought I was allowed was to try and count the seconds between the fading sounds of thunder.

peaceful eyes drawn away from me

one last death

In the past 6 months I have either reworked, rewired or simply killed off the parts of me that needed such things. I have recently realized one side of myself that is the last vestige of the things I do to trip myself up. an attraction to a certain type of situation that from this moment forward will cease to be. I must realize i do it, see it clearly early and avoid the traps i set for myself in this area. i only cheat myself by being anyone elses touchstone, stand-in, backup, go-to, support other than my own. I am very good at it, I can give out enough energy to light a city but it's a city I often build for others to run, cars I design that get driven by others and that will not continue to happen.

retorts

I pride myself on being adept at social graces, which is why I tend to hate them often because they are a dance, an art for which I have plentiful skill yet no honest desire if you will. In online dating and dating in general (and I am just addressing the negative here but most have been negative) I have had the pleasure of meeting some of the biggest hypocrites, con artist emotionally, mentally and truly socially challenged souls (which I think is the bottom line for online dating 9 times out of 10, it attracts people already at their last straw or only comfortable behind a keyboard which I thought I might identify with: the horror stories from these ventures alone is its own separate blog... and this is coming from me; ever the optimist, the silver lining hunter, the glass half full shiny happy people jingle man) This, like everything, is an observation, a generalization of my experiences over 3 years as a whole on and off take it as you will (I liken online dating to a huge flea market where everyone wants to trade but nobody wants to buy).

long story short the last encounter I had that made me throw in the towel, burn the towel, dig a hole and bury the towel alive. It was a head shaker and rather than rehash the hypocrisy here blow by blow because it is truly not only unbelievable (in the wtf realm not the actions category) but beyond rude, judgemental and uncalled for from someone who has no clue at all who I am on so many levels that while I made sure she knew she crossed more lines than a city skyline I realized what I should have said...sometimes a good "Fuck You" is in order. Normally I rise above but I wish I had a redo on that one and used the best 2 word reply the select few deserve. some people need full blast and lately I'm feeling it's time to start turning up the volume...