Unsettled Hearts

There is a little branch of a tree sticking out from the roof of the building in front of my new view. The wind today is making it fly, wildly this way and that. I am feeling a little like that tree today. Rooted in what, I don't really know. But flying in the face of all these fucking forces, blown hard, leaves barely hanging on, I sit and watch as it seems to hold its ground but not without great effort. I feel like whatever its going through I can easily identify with. Its a visual representation of what's been stirring about in my soul.

He came into my life at the worst and best possible moment.
The picture of what I always wanted. Like some kind of apparition.

I'm finding myself in a no-man's land between where I've been and where I'm going. New city, heavy heart. Two weeks of bliss with no time to think about the consequences, the aftermath, the questions. Faith - this was my word at the yoga retreat. The word that would bridge my inner life to my outer life. So I try within this quiet but massive emotional upheaval of the heart, to have faith, in myself.. and in him. In whatever it was.

Truly tangled tensions. Is it that he's not here anymore, not at my side and at my back, not inside me, not in front of me, not in my space anymore after such an intense drinking of his person and presence.. Or is it that I'm just frightened about all the things I came here to do? They weave in and out of each other... Him, me, that city and this one. A gift to carry me here, or a distraction to take me off the intensely focused course I was burning through to get to this moment? A supportive gift or a test of will from the universe? Where or how does it fit together? How can I pry these two emotional hurricanes apart?

I remember touching him just to touch, just because I could, just because he was there, sometimes touching just to feel the push back of his skin against my fingers, reminding me that he was real. Knowing how soon it would be a fading memory. And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow I would say goodbye, for some indeterminable amount of time. And he and my city and my sister and my friends, became tangled into one big goodbye, always tomorrow. So here I am, out of runway for postponed goodbyes, on the otherside of tomorrow, now a fast fading yesterday.

The sharing. The giving. My way, to give the best and the most, for as long as possible. I haven't still yet learned this lesson of holding the cards close to my chest, I have a couple boxes I check through about you and then here... my delicate and too much feeling soul is yours. Take it and god help me if I misjudged you. The only safeguard to that possibility is this jaded edge of anger I've developed about this happening more times than I'd like to admit, I've become an expert at gathering the broken pieces, wishing darkness upon their souls in an intensely breathless curse through the tears, and walking away.. on to the next inevitable beautiful madness I will draw near me sooner or later. So I will be fine. I know I will.. regardless of what happens. Even so, this doesn't help the sickness I feel at the possibility that it could have been all a lie. And if it was - what would stop him from thinking of what an amazing idiot I am for sharing all of this with him? Nothing. How can I be sure that it wasn't? I can't. All I can really do is give it time.

Back to that concept of faith. Trusting myself... trusting that I made decisions that I can be happy with. Value it for what it was, stay rooted in reality, in what was in front of me. The consistency of actions. The consideration. The ability to weather my storms. The time was solid, he was good to me, and I am trying hard to find the space between unquestioning loyalty to this faint possibility and the ever powerful escape artist within. As a woman that tends toward extremes, the endeavor is taxing every part of my soul. Saturday night at the Jane, the only fight, the only time I saw him get angry with me... after an outburst and an apology, his eyes are closed now, eyelashes resting on that beautiful face I'm staring at in the dark through all my tears, this one moment keeps coming back to me.. where the sadness sharpened and anger took over, my eyes slit with vindication spreading through my veins, I heard myself whisper in the dark, "I'll run you off before long..." And hearing that escape my own lips brought me a new sadness, a loneliness, an awareness of how close to the surface I hold that idea, the idea that I will get rid of you sooner or later. The idea that all of everything good is just a matter of time before I put my restless emotion needles into a tub of poison and shoot them at you. And here the love stories, the would have should have could have's lose all their power and empathy for the poor girl who gives her heart away and gets taken advantage of for it. No, I am not a victim to love's idle whims. I am the spoiler. The sharp chase away toxic element.

So it's best isn't it.. that we've stepped away. That we had each other in a whirlwind of fantasy and goodbyes and transitions. The little adventures, the constant changes, the sex, the illusions of soul-mating, the hunger, the consumption, the luxury, the surrender to pleasure. It now gets to shift into Something to Suffer Over. Who cares that I can't think about kissing or touching or anything sexual at all really without thinking of him and wanting to cry, without feeling this massive absence in such moments. What does it matter that I felt forever in his face, all of these things, significant or not, are just passing moments anyway. And I know better than most that there is no such thing as forever. There is hardly such a thing as long term in my world.. Things rarely stay the same. So why get all fairy tale and idiotic about this? Just dye your hair again and be done with it, no?

Just close this body for a while.
I can't take anyone else right now.

The idea simply sends me into hysterics.