Unhurried Rain 

The day is gray and cool.

It reminds me of you.

The rain falls unhurried

Drumming on the roof

Tinging in the gutters.

It’s almost as if I can see you

Sitting across from me,

In that orange chair

Smiling, your blue eyes

looking for my soul.

We laughed and smoked

Told each other our story.

We departed in the rain

Both unsure of the first move.

Overwhelmed

Well, I feel overwhelmed and I want to have sex, but I am taking a break from that. I want to forget that I feel like my life is spinning out of control.  The reality is that it’s not out of control, it’s just finding a new balance. My fears kick in, “can I read the material fast enough and I will be able to maintain the schedule.”  yet I always find my way.

I am a 36 year old dyslexic who knows all the coping skills with a 4.0 GPA and yet there are moments that I feel like the 12 year old girl so afraid to read out loud.

It’s only 10 weeks

“It’s only 10 weeks,” the phrase that I keep repeating to myself as I start my third term at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) this week. It’s 10 weeks two classes, which equates to an additional 40 hours a week on top of my full-time job, my children, and my book. “Lean into it,” is the other phrase that rings loudly. The extra class mean I can complete the degree a term sooner.

However, my day job can be mentally taxing, and there are days I just want to melt on the couch after work. Let alone do all the responsible parenting things.  My boys are great with their encouragement and even reassure me occasionally that I am not being selfish that I am showing them how to follow their passion.

Except as classes start, I’m suddenly filled with fear of time management and mom guilt. It’s only 10 weeks, right. 400 hours….

The clock is ticking, Friday is the deadline to drop a class and I stand on the edge, leaning, armed with coffee and my cape.

Not Sorry

I have never been a hateful person. I own my actions good or bad. I understand that what I post is not for the everyone regardless these are my internal thought and experiences told from solely my from the point of view either at the moment or upon reflecting. In the past, I haven’t loved with an open heart, but with a guard one and be vulnerable was not an option. As I am finding the internal balance that is changing, there is something beautiful in exposing that side of myself.

I know that somewhere there is another person who is experiencing things in a similar fashion and my goal is to help them realize they are not alone.

Release and Reset

When I sat down to write a post to accompany this painting this is what came out. It is not what had originally intended, but I suppose it is part of the release.  It’s raw and vulnerable, which is not a side of myself I normally share.

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Dear Lover,

When we met, you were exactly what I was looking for… I didn’t want a relationship. I wanted someone who would fuck. Sex was my drug. My way to avoid. It was my way to forget the real world and we did it well. You had woken up things inside me that hadn’t existed in my marriage.

Two months into this thing that we were doing you told me you loved me. I was scared and tried to joke it off.  That night we enter the veil and the sex was euphoric.  Except, I was not ready for love and didn’t want to be loved. I didn’t deserve it.  I wanted to be fucked.

We took a break during the fifth month, but by month six we were back to fucking.  In month Seven, I knew she was more than your roommate, and I let you avoid the question because I enjoyed this veil. It meant I didn’t have to be fully invested. During the end of month eight I was seeking someone new, because after all I knew this would end. By month ten, I confirmed that she was your girlfriend and ended with you.  I told myself it was some sort of moral issue.  Until you would call and we would fuck again. I liked this veil the outside world didn’t exist there.

Your drunk love was impressive, but I knew it wasn’t real love. I started actively trying to start another relationship. You would pop in and out. Sometimes I would tell you to go away and put off your confusions of love. Others I would cave and fuck you for hours getting lost in the euphoria.

Month 14, I had tried to sleep with someone new but sexually he and I didn’t fit; it didn’t work; and it wasn’t you. I denied to myself that my heart was confused because none of this made sense. During months, fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen, II still tried to replace you. I met farm boy and lawn care guy both fun for various reasons. I tried a little harder with Farm boy. His sex drive was closer to mine, but again, it didn’t work. It wasn’t you and after all you were still popping in and out. By month, twenty-two we were back in full swing.

At twenty -eight, I wanted more than sex and ended again with you. I wasn’t ready to move in and you were. I want to date and you had to figure what she was to you. I understood that you loved both of us after all you start seeing both of us at the same time.  When I told you we had to be done and we fought. I believed it was over.

Except in month thirty, you were back again professing your love. You want it all, you said, you loved me, and you were moving out.  You asked to move in and I again said no. Responding with we needed to try dating.  I knew we fucked well. The veil was the place that we worked. We didn’t know if we work anywhere else. I wasn’t a new divorcee anymore. I was on my path and this thing wasn’t going to change that.

In months thirty-one and thirty-two I would remind you of what you had said and asked for a when. You would tell me your fears and your secrets and I just accepted them.  During month thirty-two, I really did know we were never going to be more than the sex. Yet we still played this game both knowing it was over, but still pulled and not sure how to quit.

In month thirty-three… you had been caught… we had been caught

The text message DENY IT ALL – hit me like a ton of bricks.

I don’t when, exactly, I had fallen for your drunk love. I thought my heart was protected from it by the logic of this sexual connection. Somehow, your words had seeped into my heart and it didn’t make sense.

This thought of denying it all torn me apart. I wanted to protect you, but if I had denied it, if I didn’t confess my truth, it would have meant it was never real.

I cried because I didn’t want to love you, but I did. I can’t even tell when it must have happened, but it did.  When you showed in what would have been month thirty-four, I caved and I knew I would, I was hurting and the veil was my escape. You asked me to hate you. I told you I wanted to and I was trying to.

You rambled your drunk words. I loved your dick and you loved my pussy. Yes, it was love, but not love with balance. We had let this go of this sexual love. You love hard and drinker harder because it scares you. We don’t make sense in the real world and we only worked inside the veil that we had created where no one else was allowed. Except, the veil has been broken and I’m finally ready for the more.

I will find love that balances my mind, my heart, and my sexual desires. Our sexual love worked, but it only when there was honesty and trust.

I always saw you for who you were and fall in love you anyway. I know my hurt will fade and I will love again. I thank you for all that you helped awaken within me. It was an experience that I will carry with me always. So live well and keep loving.

Wishing you balance,

The Artist

The Debris

There’s nothing better than spending your lunch hour on your roof soaking up some sun. I have longed for the warmth of nature.  I climbed out my window onto my porch roof and removed the debris of what was him, the sticks, so many sticks, a rotting pepper, a bottle of bug spray, and a phone book all things that he threw at my window in the middle of the night to wake me up. Now the only physical evidence of him that remains are few pieces of broken glass from the window, he broke last year and an unopened Christmas present.  I knew all along that eventually I would have to let him go. I also knew that in order to honor myself, I would have to tell the truth, even though he asked me to deny it all.

I know that my apologies will never repair the pain that was cause in the end. This wasn’t the ending that I want yet it’s the ending that I knew would come.

Sitting here in the sun, I find comfort in the release it all. No matter how hard I fought his lies, a part of me wanted them to be true.   I’m really ready for more and to letting go of him was the biggest step.

I will post those unpublished drafts of this process. The moments of deliberation the contemplation, but for now I’m cleaning up the debris. He was always meant to be a lesson.

Blending my worlds

I haven’t posted in a while. I have been torn between three worlds.

The first being my current job which I love, but I take on more of a personal investment than perhaps is necessary. However, it’s the work ethic I was taught and wouldn’t change.

The second is my art the fact the I want to focus on school and my art work. I want to eat, breath, and sleep art. I want to get lost in that world or better yet make this my only world.

The third is motherhood and the internalized fear that I am somehow failing them.

These worlds should blend like the tints and tones of a painting, but the instead they are like complementary colors fighting for attention.

This feeling of be cut into thirds gets the better of me somedays, which results in self-doubt and procrastination.