old churches, new light

i wish i could attend another church, but i am involved in this one so much and really like it.

But, now that it's summer and some services are held at the old church, i have to sit and look at the altar where she and i spoke vows... and all i recall from that time is not being able to look away from her, her hair ringed with flowers, her simple yet amazingly striking dress falling to the floor, her face colored with smiles. And then sitting together for the remainder of the service, holding hands.

i had seen her many times over the previous two years, but never this new.

File under RBP

If there any advantages to having to move because of divorce (and believe me, there are no real advantages) it's getting rid of the crap you accumulate throughout life.

i have lugged around notebooks from junior high and high school for almost 30 years. This past week i sat down and poured over them, and found something surprising: they weren't worth lugging around for two years let alone 30.

All of my "poetry" is so banal and typically teenage angst ridden i cringe having to read it. Too many references to masks, being non-conformist, hating jocks... if any of those themes would make a good poem, it might make ONE good poem. They do not make 200 hundred good poems, as i thought they would when i knew everything.

Some were saved... for every 50 that were thrown away, i kept one because it may have potential, or because it said something about my view of the world at that time. i guess at one time i thought all would be collected in my complete works, and if i were a published writer would pay anything to keep those under wraps.

Sorry to all the girls i had crushes on and who anonymously received my "poems" at that time. i wrote those girls off as not understanding me. i now know they understood good poetry versus really bad poetry.

So, with my room mate gone i am finding items that have lingered too long, like milk.

Last week i opened the fridge and saw three cartons of milk. The first, closest to the front, i removed and checked the date: May 23, 2008. Too old, i poured it down the sink. i then removed the second one: April 18, 2008. Down the sink.

The third and last one didn't seem promising, but i looked anyway and found it was from March- doesn't matter which day in March, still way too old. Down the sink.

A few days later, after i bought a new half gallon, i noticed a carton that i had missed to the side of the fridge. This one would surely be from June.

February 12, 2008.

it doesn't start with honesty

There is a bar on North Main Street in Providence called the Penalty Box. It always sounded like a gay bar, don't know why. Not that it matters.

Anyway, it's a fun little place with great beer. And seeing a showcase of good bands doesn't hurt, either. One of them, The Masons, put on a fucking incredible set. i have only seen them three times, but already i have songs of theirs that i cannot get out of my head.

A sorely needed diversion after having it out with A again; it was pointed out that i need to watch my anger, or the police will be called.

How can two people who shared so much be such strangers? I feel betrayed on so many levels i don't know where to start. The best place to start is to let it go... that isn't lost on me.

But knowing and doing are two completely different things. i feel like for most of my life i have known what to do, but doing it is challenge.

Water & Wine

i was afraid to attend this wedding on the Cape, as weddings were always a nice affirmation of our own marriage. What would they be as i go through a divorce?

In spite of this, it was a blast. This side of my family has always been trying for me, as i am not an outgoing person, as most of them are. However, i have always enjoyed the cousin who was being married and her brothers- they were the only reason i enjoyed visiting Syracuse as a child. Everyone was wonderful to me and included me.

i also met one of my cousin's friends, a nurse from Knoxville, TN. Recently divorced herself, she inspired me in my own situation. Outside of that, she was also a lot of fun and enjoyable.

Four glasses of Pinoit Noire also helped... the night became surreal, and for the first time in months the future didn't seem so painful.....life breathed again for me.

confession

i thought spending time on a date would make it seem real, our relationship. It didn't. You are a hell of a lot of fun, and beautiful, of course, but i am not sure we have something beyond that..... and the intimacy. At least from where i'm standing. i am pretty sure you don't see it that way.

Afraid to admit further that i needed you so much at a time when my marriage was weak that i created you into an ideal. You are ideal, just not my ideal.

i fear that A will always be my ideal.