i've got my spine, i've got my orange Creche

Christmas was twice as difficult this year. The first is the usual heartache that comes with being divorced and raising children with someone who once meant everything and is now just another person you negotiate with about visitation, money.

The second reason is my descent into atheism. I have been uncomfortable with religion since my late teens and rejected my Roman Catholic upbringing, and realized in my 20's that God has nothing to do with religion. Continuing to seek other religions allowed me to keep a certain amount of faith alive, especially when i discovered the liberalism of the Anglican church (catholic lite). But the last few years have brought more skepticism about the existence of God. i continued as a member of my church because of its community- i rationalized that while i could not swallow EVERYTHING that was celebrated there, at least i enjoyed the people and how faith sewed us together. That all went to hell (har har) when the recently departed minister was found to be some sort of Jekyll & Hyde personality who verbally attacked some parishioners while acting as the perfect man of the cloth for others. Toss in an inappropriate relationship with a church member and you come up with a whole lotta parishioners who want blood, and took their vitriol out on the Vestry.

Have i mentioned in past posts that i am a vestry member?

i was asked to become member at the end of 2007, by a man i knew through the church but also through our local gym; we bonded over music, guitar playing- he is an all around good man. Unfortunately, the deterioration of my marriage in early 2008 and the ensuing depression left little on my end for the vestry, and my commitment has been slight, to say the least.

When a parishioner asked to speak with me in 2009 about how she felt there was a division between the clergy and certain parishioners, i did not follow up as i should. When everything came to a head in mid 2010, i mistakenly thought it was this issue she had brought to my attention, not the minister, not his odd protection of a woman whom he had given a job, not his dual personality. It turned out that she was one of many, many injured parishioners, and by the time the meeting came, they lashed into all of us.

There was no God there at the meeting where injuries and tears were bared, not with me on the bridge that night in May, not when i wanted my marriage back so badly my body caved in on itself in despair.

i want so badly to believe that there is something more than us- i have always felt a sense of spirituality, felt through art, music, nature- but can no longer stomach the archaic vision of a white haired Dumbledorian figure who presides over our happiness and sadness.

sweet n sour

On Friday, i went to see a local band that has been playing for about 30 years. There is a renewed interest in them since a local filmmaker used them in his movie about a RI landmark, Rocky Point, so they've been doing reunion shows.

I have attended almost all of their shows over the last year and a half. Often, ExA's best friend, Lilith, will contact me and ask if we can go together, as her usual friend cannot make it. i do not mind this, as it is a nice common ground.... after the divorce, i had wanted to stay friends with her and her husband, but found it difficult to do so; it is much easier staying unconnected or loosely connected to those within her life.

This connection with Lilith was challenged last Easter weekend. Already a difficult anniversary for me, we sat at the show and chatted. She then said, "I guess we'll see you tomorrow!" She then "caught" herself, remembering i wouldn't be at ExA's house when they went for the annual Easter Egg hunt.. i put caught in parentheses as at times her actions seem not as accidental as she would have the listener believe.


This last time, she was sweet. As i followed her and her friend outside so they could smoke, she said, aloud, "This divorce thing is not working for me." i was confused, as i thought she was talking about her and her husband, but she corrected me and told me she meant my divorce. She then went on to tell me a cute story about The Sea and her first day of school; i guess the opening comment was to preface that she needed to tell me the story, that if we were still together i would know it first hand.

i know that i grasp at the smallest things, and embrace them like they are monuments, but it is these little moments that make me happy that someone else misses my marriage, that i am not a freak.

electile dysfunction

At least in RI we kept the faith and elected smartly. But i am disappointed that the Tea Party had such an effect nationwide. Certainly there were those who had become a little too comfortable in their positions- Harry Reid & Nancy Pelosi- but the smear tactics used to undo their reign does not make for a clean win.

Politics is getting scary.

:) = (:

The recent slew of suicides caused by people/kids being bullied for being gay, or perceived as gay, is heartbreaking.

In many ways, it is the ultimate irony that something that involves love inspires so much hate: people of the same sex cannot marry, cannot adopt, cannot live as a human should. While i am sure that it is not a crime to videotape someone having a sexual encounter and then broadcasting it so it leads to the person committing suicide, i am pretty sure you live the rest of your life with the knowledge that you are a pathetic, empty person who deserves nothing good.

i am a volunteer for the Marriage Equality organization in my state. On Columbus Day, we went out in our neighborhoods asking people to sign postcards that will be sent to their legislators in support of same sex marriage. In all, most people i spoke with were greatly supportive, or at least civilized. It got off to a bad start, however, when the second house i visited the person told me that he is a Christian and doesn't support it. As we walked down his driveway, he then went on to say "it's an an abomination."

As we walked away, The Sea asked what an abomination is; i wish i had said, loudly, it means Christians who haven't listened close enough to Christ.

kind

Was grocery shopping yesterday when a woman pushing her cart out of the aisle must have clipped the cart of another woman turning into the aisle. That woman loudly said, "Bitch."

It took me a few seconds to realize what i had witnessed, and i looked at the woman that said it, she looked briefly at me then continued on with her shopping, unfazed, as if that exchange was the way all people treat one another.

i have been trying very hard to be less judgmental, a trait that has bothered me my whole life; when someone drives aggressively around me, i pause and tell myself that they must have had a bad day. It has opened me to acceptance on many levels (accepting, liking, respecting ExA will be the final exam).

i don't understand why the act of being kind is so difficult, why people don't see how profound the pay off is. How can a person use such an aggressive word with a complete stranger?

i wish i had been more mindful to walk up to her and say, "Be kind." But she would have probably answered by calling me an asshole.

i go to movies

There is an odd uncertainty that comes over me when asked "How are you doing?"

Close friends and family used to ask it in a tentative tone in the months after my attempt, but, convinced that it is behind me, now ask in the same tone anyone would.

i pause, always, and, not wanting to resort to cliches, sometime say something ludicrous, like "rockin'!" Other times with "Fine. How bout you?" It's easier to redirect the conversation.

It is too difficult to answer. Most days it crosses a gamut of contradictory emotions.

i should reply with, "i go to movies." In that ninety to 120 minute period, i forget how i am, who i am, hiding in the dark i am just an observer and am angrily disappointed if the film is so bad that it doesn't make me forget me.

dreams of a butterfly

i love dreams, purely as entertainment. i do not believe that dreams hold cosmic messages for us- they are just vomit from our subconscious, freed at night when our brain is not occupied with our waking life.

That said, i have had some very odd incidents where dreams were almost prescient, but i chalk this up to timing. Still i cannot escape the ripples of a dream like the one i had last night.

There was a lot to this dream, but i cannot remember it. The part i do remember is walking onto a beach where there were a lot of people just standing about, dressed in street clothes, not talking with one another, just THERE. The sky was gray and it may have been drizzling. As i walked up to the shoreline, i saw that one of the people was a high school classmate of mine who passed away in 2005. We weren't close, but he was an all around good guy that everybody liked- i had become friendlier with him as we planned our 20th high school reunion that year.

Anyway, without any connection to any previous scene from the dream, the dream me asked him, "Why is life so hard?" He replied,"Because you have to experience all of it."

i have racked my brain for something that would have caused this random answer, but cannot explain it away, other than more subconscious vomit that has taken some pseudo philosophical quote from a poster and kicked it back as this guy's words. Still, the way it was said haunts me, as it was not as though he just had a walk on part like in other dreams; his presence was purposeful. i have had dreams about others who have died, with similar realness, and want to believe, almost do, that they are those people using the dream medium to communicate.

His answer stayed with me, even after i awoke, and while i am not entirely convinced it is not subconscious diarrhea, i so much want to believe his words, want them to take away this cancer that lives in me that is ExA.

liberty

A friend, who i shall name Jools, and i went to Philly this past weekend to visit our friend PJ. PJ was married last October and they had a baby in March.... do some quick math.

He is not adjusting well to being a father, as it has taken so much of his independence, nor being so far from his family. i fear that his marriage may be collateral damage, although i am pretty sure that even if they didn't have a child that he would be enthralled with being married for only so long.

Some love commitment, some don't. It's no secret that i loved it, and regret everyday that i have lost mine to her. Not to say that it wasn't for the best, but the science of accepting life's tragedies with a dismissive justification angers me.

"When God closes a door, he opens a window."
"Life is what happens when you're making other plans."
"Never regret anything, because at one time it was exactly what you wanted."


We sat outdoors at a bar on 23rd Street, drinking and discussing his frustration. Inevitably, he or Jools made the cliched comment- "You always want what you cant have."

i told them that they were wrong, that it is not a matter of simply envying where you are not. i loved being married, loved being committed, and with the exception of a very difficult nine months i was very appreciative of ExA. Still, i cannot ask him to not act hastily; i can see in his demeanor that he will- it has always been about him, and he has a hard time making room for others.

But, despite the threesome he had while with his wife to be, despite his oddly pointed attempts to disturb me with ExA's attraction to him, despite his occasional verbal knives that belittled me in front of others, i love him like a brother, and want him to be happy.

halfway house

i really, REALLY don't want to talk about my relationships with women- it is boring me, even.

i have a good friend that i reconnected with after the divorce- he and i had lost touch after college. He is also divorced, seven years so, and has a son. And is a great artist. In college, he did a toon for the paper; his work has become more sophisticated and interesting. It's hard to live being an artist, so he has fallen on hard times, unemployed from one job and working only part time at the other. The other day he told me he is being evicted.

Half of my basement is finished, and i have offered it to him as temporary living space. The one obstacle to overcome is the fact that i have another roommate as part of a shared living arrangement where people with developmental disabilities are placed with families. i have not talked about it here, as i am attempting to keep it confidential....it is my part time job so i can make my mortgage and child support. Because that arrangement requires a lot of oversight, i am not sure my taking in a starving artist will be blessed.

i hope it is, as i want to do this for him. i am so fortunate, i feel that i should share it in some way.

made again

Surprisingly, EMDR worked. Four sessions i was going to ask the counselor to be discharged, as i was beginning to think i wasn't getting anywhere. It was at that session that it did.

EMDR takes an event that the person perceives as traumatic and has them think about it as they follow the counselor's hand, holding an object such as a pen, move back and forth. i think the back and forth has something to do with accessing both hemispheres of the brain. Some therapies use touch or hearing instead of eye movement.

i chose my event: sitting in KT's car that night, knowing that what i was about to do would forever change my relationship with the one woman i had ever wanted to marry.

Back & forth. Back & forth.

i will not go into detail about what came up, but by the end, it felt as though surgery had been performed and the cancer that is ExA was removed. That night was no longer a mistake, but an act of rebellion against a marriage, a person who didn't care for my heart.

Being a skeptic... okay, pessimist- i thought it would be short lived. Here it is ,weeks later, and i still do not feel the heaviness that lived within me for two years.

The other day, while picking up The Land and The Sea, i had a civil conversation with ExA, and felt nothing afterwards, no longing, no sadness.

The downside is now i know that holding back in my relationship with Noire has nothing to do with my divorce, and has all to do with not wanting to be with her.

re collecting

i have always loved music; one of my earliest memories is being age 6 and playing 45's on a tiny record player at my friend's house. I wanted to hear "Seasons in the Sun" and "The Most Beautiful Girl" over and over; they wanted to be outside adventuring.

For some time i have known that it is not just the aesthetic of music that touches us, but it's ability to capture an image, be a photograph. And while some photographs should not be remembered, some capture a time so perfectly it's sweetly happy, such as one i recalled this past week.

In the Spring of 1987, i worked in the visual merchandise department at G. Fox & Company, a store no longer in existence, having been acquired by Filene's. The job had come to me mostly because my older sister was the head of the department- what had started as a temporary job in the Christmas of 1985 had lead to a full time position, a good one given i was in college at the time and most of my friends were working jobs far less interesting. My job was primarily prep work, as i was not talented enough to dress mannequins or set up displays.

One of the tasks was to cut out Styrofoam letters to label the various brands in the departments: Esprit......Chaus......Liz Claiborne.......Guess.


The tool used to cut letters was a box that held a stretched, perpendicular wire that, when heated, allowed you to trace shapes around a plastic template. I was not good at using the machine, as i would often slow down, creating small dents in the letters. And the smell of melting Styrofoam was sickening.

The radio was on my favorite station at the time- well, second favorite; my favorite was my college's, WXIN, where i had a late night radio show, but it's signal barely reached a mile. Therefore, i was listening to what was at one time Brown University's radio station, WBRU.

On that Spring day, the DJ came on and announced that they had U2's new album, "The Joshua Tree," and proceeded to play it all the way through. The memory is crisp: bending over the messy work table that had served as the food prep table for a restaurant that was now the bedding department, my hair long and unruly, the excitement that came with hearing those songs for the first time, the acrid smell of melting Styrofoam. With it came my dreams of the time: teaching high school English, marrying Esme, forever going to small clubs to see live music.....the world was endless with opportunities.

joy joy

When the beauty of the world comes to me clearly- people of all kind, smiling, grimacing as they walk sidewalks, a house so loved it's yard shines brilliantly, teenagers laughing in their complicity as they huddle in front yards, a blank faced mother in a car with her children- it seems easy, and i wonder why my antennae doesn't pick up these waves all of the time.

i recall the time ExA stood in her kitchen- it was no longer mine- and responded to my pathetic wish that she show some regret over losing us with, "i try and find some joy in everyday." It hurt that her drive to find joy in the midst of our divorce was easier, more attainable, than finding joy in us when we were married.

It is hard to remember joy. i miss childhood with great longing, as joy was so easy to find in every blade of grass, in every word with friends, at school, laying in bed at night.

church of apathy

I have had two dates with Noire, and in spite of our Memorial Day romp there has been no sex. i know that that is not for long, since it is her passion. She has been waiting, waiting for my explanation as to why i engaged with her that night if i don't want a relationship, why that night i told her that i wanted to see her again.

Part of me did miss her, not enough to change my mind about the commitment, but still a missing.

And, i tired of saying "no" to her. Sometimes when a person is forceful enough it is too tiresome to hold your ground. The strategy of giving in is brilliant enough to seem ingenious, but is really just a way to prolong. She does not want to accept what i say, wants to believe what she perceives, and i didn't have the energy to keep fighting her off.

It will get bad, again, and the accusations will be worse, as i will shoulder the lion's share of responsibility.

If i could just feel enough to care.

Nashville 'hood

A friend and I traveled to Nashville on my suggestion; he's a big country music fan.

Little did we know that the Country Music Association festival was going on. After spending $120 for scalped tickets, we spent Saturday and Sunday night at LP stadium watching Country's biggest stars. As much as i am not a fan of modern Country, i have to admit that they give their all and are excellent musicians.

However, what i enjoyed most was developing as thesis about how the culture around Country musicians is the same as Hip Hop,

Evidence?


1. The majority of songs are written about how tough they are, that they have street cred. In interviews with the male performers, no less than five of them said they were normal guys who "fished and hunted."

2. They have embraced a word that was originally pejorative (hillbilly, redneck)and now use it as a badge of honor.

3. Where the hip hop community is loyal to their 'hood, Country music stars are loyal to the United Sates and its troops. This is not to say that others are not, but it is so prevalent in Country music it is hard to tell if it is sincere.

Of course, i find it funny to no end in seeing these commonalities in what on the surface appears disparate.


And, Hootie is now a country music star. Go figure.

how to shoot someone who outdraws you

Every once in awhile, perhaps every few months, the communication between ExA and i becomes less stilted, less guarded and that is when she chooses to strike.


A year and a half ago, after a particularly fine exchange over e-mail, she decided to ask me for a portrait of her and the Land that i had taken in the divorce. The portrait was one that she had done for my birthday, so i felt as though it had been given to me. Because of a matching one of her and The Sea, she felt as though i did not have a right to it- she accused me of being unhealthy because i wanted it.


This past week she contacted me because she needs my signature on her refi (i am still listed as on the mortgage). After i assured her that i would assist in her getting whatever she needed, minutes later i received an e-mail invitation to her and Fortunato's 40th birthday party.


i saw it as thoughtless. i am sure she sees it as progress.

memorial

Holiday weekends depress me.

With my defenses low, Noire appeared last night; i knew she would at some point, as she had been sending occasional texts over the last few weeks reminding me that she was broken hearted. As she sat in my living room, she told me that she came over to see if i would make out with her. Typical of her motives, she made it seem like it would be no big deal, hooking up, but i am an adult and no matter what she says i knew to engage was not right.

Nothing's been right for two years. i feel like an impostor in this world, wish i could resign. This mistake wouldn't add anymore, or less, to that.

capitulation

This is an open letter, since i know you read this blog.

I re-read an IM conversation we had in February 2008. In it, you made several statements about not wanting me to regret us, hate you- i told you that i wouldn't. But, as you well know, it's exactly what i did, even after fervently pursuing a relationship with you.

i am sorry for turning on you like that. i do not think we'll ever be friends again, but i now realize that my role was more active than i remembered, and in some ways i set you up.

Hope you're enjoying motherhood. as i always said, you deserve a chance to be a mom.

superfreak

Cath and i have been texting, meeting for tea and other things. i am fortunate that she is willing to spend time with me given how i treated her last October. She makes it clear that she has prepared herself for the fallout i.e. my emotional 180.

i am aware that it could take the same path as Noire, as with Seraph, but the optimist in me hopes not.

The realist in me chuckles cynically.

dark seas

Trying a new approach in therapy, EMDR; pretty good Wiki article here.

It's about time i move on, and navigating this muck is necessary to do so. Somewhat skeptical about it, but am trying to keep an open mind.

Anything that will free me from ExA.

routine

Here is another moment that is mundane in it's action, and yet so meaningful in it's context of life.

After a breakfast of a chocolate muffin and strawberries, The Sea's face was dirty, so I wet a paper towel to clean it. As i am washing, she's talking about her DS game, where she's at in the game, telling me all of this as i navigate the dark and red stains on her face, as if someone is always washing your face while you're talking. i love the obliviousness that children have at times, especially in contrast to the times they are ultra aware.

i had to laugh, and then feel a little bit sad for the day when i no longer need to clean her face.

returning to church

i had been thinking a lot about Cath, wondering if we would have lasted if i hadn't ended up in bed, and then a relationship, with Noire. i have been thinking about KT as well, but that is a post for another time.

i contacted her, and we met for tea. It was great to see her- i hadn't remembered as much about her as i thought i had, although i had just seen her in person last December and in a hundred pictures on Bacefook.

i asked outright about her marriage- she referred to it as a "complicated situation." Her husband had returned to the house but they were not living as a married couple. i was hesitant to carry anything further knowing this, given the emotional turmoil it creates in me.

Two days ago, we started sending sexual texts; that lead to conversation about whether or not we could share lust and nothing more.

Tomorrow, we will find out. You gotta sin to get saved.

Some Enchanted

i didn't expect The Sea to attend a dance until she was in middle school, let alone a father/daughter dance while in kindergarten.

That is where we found ourselves Saturday, at an Elk's Lodge in Wakefield. Complete with big elk's antlers at the door: i pointed them out to The Sea and her friend to prove the lodge's authenticity.

She practiced the Electric Slide for two weeks- mostly, because she likes to say "Cha-cha y'all."

She and her friends gathered around the dance floor, told secrets and giggled, occasionally locking hands to dance a few steps.

Her mother cued me to get her a corsage, for which i am thankful; it was a collection of pink flowers to match her hot pink and white skirt. The flowers wilted and started falling off a half hour into the dance.

The fathers all collected at the tables and along the walls, drinking tiny paper cups of apple juice, watching their daughters, from kindergarten up to fifth grade, grow years before their eyes. Occasionally we made small talk, stepped out into the cool spring night to escape the stifling air inside.

The Sea wanted to leave a little early, so she could roll down a grassy hill outside the building. i suppose i should have been more conscientious of the fact she was wearing a white outfit, but she laughed so much as she rolled that i hated to stop her.

Night was encroaching on the last bits of daylight as we left, hand in hand.

While i miss my marriage everyday, moments like this underline what i have lost not being able to share with her mother.

world party

There were times as a teenager when i would be doing nothing on a Saturday night and was convinced, to a point of paranoia, that there was some massive party happening somewhere and i wasn't invited. Oddly enough, i wouldn't have wanted to hang out with those in my class who were there, and i was pretty convinced that the ones i did like were not there (hmmm....), but was exasperated about wanting to be included in some way.

Such is adolescence. The desire to be accepted, by those who have lots of friends, or by the freaks, whose friendships are few but strong.

Unfortunately that conflict stayed with me way too long, into my twenties and thirties. It's ugly head occasionally rears itself. And then i remind my self that i am in my forties.

What's it like to be self realized?

definition

For two years i have attempted to define myself in other ways: friend, volunteer, amateur musician, amateur song writer, and found them to be sand castles. If anything makes me, it is The Land & The Sea.

When The Land and The Sea leave, i lose my definition. i dread my house, i dread its silence, i wilt at seeing their toys on the floor, lifeless of their animation and voices.

Could this mistake have been so large that it is not recoverable? Will i ever not have to do deep breathing before i pick up your calls, or brace at the sight of you?

infected

i don't get sick alot perhaps more now that i am older, but still pretty infrequently. When i do, it's a little cold, just enough to annoy those around me but not keep me out of work.

This past week i developed a sinus infection, my second in 21 years. Knowing the pain is not something you mess with, i hot footed it to a walk in clinic and was prescribed an antibiotic. Four days of taking it has lessened the infection, but i think it's made everything else worse:

body shakes
fever
all around malaise


Anyway, i decided to watch Where The Wild Things Are, and it was a bad idea.

i'm just saying, if you're that sick, bad movie to watch: defenseless, it hit too close to home. And i love that the Wild Things had names like "Carol" and "Ira".

YOU again

So, Noire and i still go to Wilco, and although i really want to see them, i am pretty sure this is not a good idea. Not having a wide range of relationship experience, i am like the person who wakes up at 3 AM and gropes in the darkness on his way to the bathroom. Going to Wilco was a stub to my right toe.

After making small talk for the first hour and a half, we finally delve into the conversation about Thursday. Immediately, she recants everything she said about wanting kids, wanting marriage, wanting us to see each other more than twice a week. This leaves me in a position to tell her that while that is all well and fine, i need to think about what i want. We watch the show, and agree to talk on Tuesday.

Tuesday needs to be canceled, because of a meeting that i had thought was Monday. Before walking into that meeting, i receive an irate call from her- it turns out that when you remove (REMOVE, not change) your relationship status on Bacefook that it sends out an update that you are no longer in a relationship. As this thought gels in my head, Noire screams at me that i had no intention of continuing the relationship and took that opportunity to tell her. While i am pretty sure i don't, this is not how i want it to end, her believing i did something scummy such as let everyone know on Bacefook.

Thursday comes, we meet in a park,and i tell her that i do not want to continue. She is angry, betrayed, mocking, belittling, all of the things i have come to know. i look out the windshield to one of the trees flowering white, and swear to never do this again until i am over ExA.

And then, at another level of thought, secretly hope that i am never over her.

fallen

Inadvertently, i left a rear door open in my car all night; The Land pointed it out to me as we exited the house this morning. At first, I worried that my battery probably wore down, but was assured when it turned over fine.

When we arrived to ExA's house, i turned around to see The Land leave and saw what i thought was one of their stuffed animal birds on the floor. i then realized it was a dead robin that must have flown in the open door and broken it's neck trying to get out.

A sign?

Noire wanted to get together tonight, and i asked if it was okay that we got together tomorrow night. This set forth a chain reaction of hurt feelings that culminated it our break up tonight.

As she spoke about her sadness in the days since my first attempt to break up, i realized that she was waiting for me to change my mind about not wanting to get married again, not wanting more children, and i could not let more months pass knowing that it would not change.

As always, i am sorry that i hurt her, as i do not want her to be in pain. This annoys her, because she wants me to be in pain, and while i am sad to not have her as a friend, i know that it is the right thing.

It is a dead robin.

In my heart of hearts, whatever that means, i do not want to be with Noire. i cannot understand why she wants to stay in this knowing my lack of interest; is sex really so powerful that someone would stay in a relationship with a person, a relationship that lacked other details such as interesting conversation and the desire to see the person daily?

My thoughts jump to how to sabotage it- she gets upset when i don't call or text on the days we're apart, it would be easy to do more of this- but i want to have some dignity, not just escape. She deserves respect, at the very least.

In spite of my joking about it, at times it gives me pause to consider i really may have created a circle of hell for myself where my marriage was actually incredibly fulfilling, and i have traded it for a series of vacuous relationships.

two dreams

In the first one, i am standing in the downstairs of a house i do not recognize in my waking life, but is mine in this life. i am standing, holding a pose as ExA walks through the door. As in most of my dreams, i cannot recall the conversation, but it involves my pose re-enacting a scene from Truly, Madly Deeply. We argue, and she tells me this idea won't work. i protest, but she becomes more and more certain in her words that it is useless. i am crestfallen.

In the second one, i am in a courthouse that resembles a large dining hall, like Ballards on Block Island. The judge calls me to the stand, an uncomfortable wooden bench not unlike an old school desk, and announces that i am testifying for my second divorce.

In the dream, i am sad that i am getting divorced again; when i awaken i realize that i am getting divorced everyday. Tomorrow it will be two years since ExA told me to leave the house.

The Land and The Sea grow more and more beautiful each day; i have met and laughed with many good friends, and drowned in sensual darkness with lovely women. These will accumulate with the years, and i become less and less convinced they will eventually wash you from me.

tattoos

Every day since it happened, i have regretted getting into her car; this anniversary isn't an anniversary, just another day in that chain.

i am sorry, a hundred times over.

more bad poetry

Cleaning through some boxes, i found scraps of paper with "poems or "lyrics" that i have carted around for years (see previous entry, here.

Part of me doesn't want to throw them away, as they are snapshots of my young mind. But something like this:

when i tell you i love you
don't laugh in my face
please look at my eyes
it's something i can't erase

and when you and i are together
and we feel we're in bliss
tell me that you hate me
then make it real with a kiss

*cringe* is a snapshot into mediocrity.

an evening

The Land & The Sea have their own mix CD that we play in the car- one of the songs is a Tom Wait's cover by Tori Amos, "Time."

The other evening, as we drove home from my niece's birthday, too close to their bedtime, it came on, and their voices harmonized the chorus as we drove in darkness.

And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
And it's Time Time Time
That you love

Beautiful moment. I stored with with the others that they've given me. My life is made true by them.

play

A Spring day drew us out of the house.... well, drew me; i had to threaten The Land & The Sea with no more time on their DS's to get them outside.

In spite of the Draconian means, they ended up enjoying it, taking almost a half hour just to set up their Littlest Pet Shop figures and play sets in the back yard. i couldn't help but think of the times the King and i similarly used our yards as back drops for Star Trek and Star Wars figures. i envied them and eaves dropped on their conversation in order to experience the memory that much more.

When they play together, it gives me hope that they will be good friends. Of course, that changes on a dime, and they lash out at one another for criminal acts such as knocking over a toy.

i am glad to have the yard for them. This is the year i will plan and plant, hoping to turn a very basic grass canvas into one of may colors and textures.

Ensuring there will still be enough room for a kick ball field.

it's not you, it's me... no, wait, it is you

i tried to break up with Noire. i rehearsed my words over and over, deciding that the best way to open the conversation was, "i don't want to continue with us." i thought (THOUGHT) it would be less confrontational, but it wasn't.

i sit there, as i have two other times these past couple of years, and wonder why i don't feel, don't care about their disappointment and sadness, sit emotionless as they cry, or spew angry words, or both... usually both.

She pointed out to me that she had felt dips in our relationship and had considered breaking up with me, but worked through it.... i decided to give it a try. While we are still together, it is not without stress fractures; she rarely passes up an opportunity to remind me about how sad she is, as demonstrated in this text transcript:

Me: What time are we getting together?

Her: 7 PM

Me: Will you have eaten by then?

Her: Probably not, since I haven't eaten in two days.

(i don't text back)

Her: prob good for weight loss, but, yes we can get something to eat.


i don't blame her for being sad and angry, i just wish people who were sad and angry with me said something to the effect of, "I am sad and angry with you," rather than this passive aggressive bullshit.

titrate

As we lay together, i am moved by her beauty, which multiplies in the slivers of light that see through my bedroom windows. This feeling is familiar, tasting all that is beautiful, warm, spiritual. While i would like to believe it is because of Noire, it is not. i haven't taken medications in over two weeks, so all of their dampening is out of my system, allowing me to again experience the world in which came of age.

It is not all good; i find myself on the brink of tears more than one should. But they're not all because of ExA, and in this i am comforted.

When i see Seraph, all of her sweetness is amplified; i wonder if i made a mistake.

Cath contacts me cautiously at times; i love talking with her, and wonder if i made a mistake.

i then retreat into the world i share with ExA, the one she has no idea exists, the one i am ashamed to keep, and there, there is no wondering if i made a mistake.

Club

My 25th high school reunion is this year. i was involved in planning the 20th, which took a lot out of me because

A. Everyone was divided, almost evenly, as to what kind event it should be (a kid friendly day event or a night time drink fest?) and

B. When the day arrived, i looked around and saw that i had organized a reunion for a bunch of people i didn't care for in high school, and not much had changed.

So, i am participating in this one somewhat cautiously.

i wanted to run from the bar when they were still calling each other by the cute nicknames they had for each other then.... i didn't.

i assumed a runner's stance when they started sharing their stories about the times they partied together, or when they "slammed" four beers in their car before math class.

When they questioned the mental stability of a classmate who left angry words on Bacefook about another classmate who recently died, it was the starter pistol i was waiting for..... i knew how that other classmate felt, and was no fan of the one who had died.

My arms found the sleeves of my coat when one of my classmates asked me about our French teacher recently contacting us. His question and interaction with me was so personable, it was as if we were friends all through high school, although i barely remembered him. We exchanged jokes about how the French teacher was a blood hound, spending an inordinate amount of time finding our classmates.

At that point, it didn't matter that i wasn't part of their high school experience, nor were they part of mine; i realized how short sighted i had been seeing the rest of them as being one group with me outside, but on a second look realized that while a core of them had been close then, others there tonight were not, and that all of us had points in our high school past that intersected with one another in some way. And tonight we were there for the same purpose, which was to assemble the obligatory gathering that happens in every town in every state, and in that purpose we accepted one another, even made apologies through buying rounds of drinks.

i left at a little after 9 PM, with the Simple Minds' "Don't You Forget About Me" blaring in my ears, and raised my fist high in the cold night air on the way to my car.

Just kidding; that's stupid.

if then go to

It is loving, as loving as a blow job can be. She is tremendously patient, given that the chemicals that keep me alive also keep me from orgasm.

When it happens, it is not the predictable feeling i had expected. It is like those first few times, with Esme, where flesh is no longer the keeper of my spirit, and i am too aware of its connection to everything.

Then i am back in my bed, hardly able to breathe, as she releases her hold and collapses beside me, kissing my cheek and chest. The prerequisite words fall from my mouth: incredible, amazing - and while it is, their failure to capture the full experience instead trivializes.

i pray that this will be it, the one that makes me forget. But within seconds, i realize it is the same universe mocking me for exchanging my marriage for sex.