Dark

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It’s been a strange and dark two weeks.

I’ve fallen in and out of emotions quicker then the time it takes to truly understand what they’re trying to tell me. It’s been dizzying and complex and agonizingly slow grounding myself back into some semblance of where I was before. I have been lost to that place of self doubt, self loathing and guilt.

I’m working hard to overcome. And like myself again.

I have so much I want to say here. Yet I can’t say anything at all. And, worse still, I’m confused as to who I am wanting to say things to. P – who is deaf to me now? Kate – who listens almost too closely? The Universe – whose silence is too open to interpretation at times? Former me – who is broken and hurt? Present Me – who is in constant flux? Future Me – whom if she could speak, would she really be able to tell me more then I know now? And would I listen?

Sigh.

I feel like words and feelings circle my mind faster then I can articulate them. I try to grab one or two, but they fall through my fingers like fairy dust. Sparkling. Shiny. Intangible. Pretty but useless. Fading into the nothingness that has clouded my heart.

I want to write but the words are stuck in emotional sludge.

I want to feel. Something. But I am numb from overload.

In the resumption of my Natural Health/Homeopathy course the truth in the words “Physician heal thyself.” ring truer then ever before. Alternative methods still greatly inspire and with each page it becomes clearer to me that I am on the right path. That I am a healer. But the validity of that statement gnaws at me when I question the ability to heal myself.

I feel so deeply fractured.light and dark

Broken. Out of balance. Abandoned. Hopeless. I realize now that I am a stranger to myself. In so many ways.

And my capability for self destruction frightens me. But that is for another post…

For now, I will continue the process of learning. With intention to heal myself. And achieve balance. Even while this feeling of un-wholeness plagues me.

The Light is very dim right now.

I embrace the Dark.

Lang Leav 18

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I’ve been surfing alot in the last 24 hours for a number of reasons. Research for a freelance writing gig, design ideas for the first tattoo I’m going to brave tomorrow – yikes and yay! – Instagram info cuz social media is the thing , inspiration for my upcoming Etsy store and hand crafted web site for my Reiki and Energy Work. Also found a writers group here in Barrie. My first attendance will be Monday evening. Not sure I will read anything. Feeling a little quiet inside. Private almost. But I will go and see what it’s all about. Might be…well, we’ll see.

Ya, lots going on in a purposeful attempt to keep my mind occupied.

Sorting out my life. Apparently, I really need to do that.

But it’s not easy.

Too many emotions. To much stuff.

And today, it feels like there’s no point.

It’s a process. I know.

Sigh

But, I did find something sweet in the image laden, mass commercial, and ridiculous amount of SHIT online. A someone. With a quiet, type-written voice. And realized feelings I have been unable (or unwilling) to articulate, found me in many of Lang Leav’s musings… 

wanting to be found

lang behind

lang song

lang she

lang scars lang scar lang night drives lang unfeel lang wishlang love lost lang his kiss lang lesson

lang let go lang cage


Wish I could say today was a good day and that I was looking forward with more joy and optimism. But truth is. I just feel sad.

lang writer sad

Love’s Lost

t.dot:

Feeling Felicity right now…

Originally posted on The Dark Night Chronicles:

Lost inside these
shadows of want
where knife-edge of need
slides deep and then taunts
a face cradled by
these two loving hands
is only a memory
I’m empty again
Such cries that once echoed
and fell off these walls
of the passion that stained
and sustained through it all
your lightest touch
still glides on my skin
and your mouth still finds mine
when the light finally dims-
you’re still hard and aching
for every touch
we’re a love the ages
and there was never enough
to satisfy
this lusting life
that tied us together
and then watched us die.

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Chivalry is Not Dead

t.dot:

It really is in the details! And incidentally, this isn’t just for the Butch/Femme dynamic! Some of you Guys out there could and should take a tip from this woman lol. She knows of what she speaks…and she speaks to the heart of any girl ;) ‘Specially this one. Swoon lol.

Originally posted on MainelyButch: Private Label:

I got to thinking about how the OFOS (old fashioned/old school) Butches/Studs, and the “older” Butches are known more for their chivalry and Butch manners it seems.  These days we hear the horror stories of the younger crowd not having that same old fashioned/old school kind of chivalry and romantic manners.  I wish we had a mentoring program for young Butches, perhaps then these younger Femmes wouldn’t be so attracted to the older Butch personas and be more attracted to those of their own age.

I hear from many Femmes “”…I think what they are trying to say is that they like the old school rules and ways.  Some of which I am about to talk about here.  Be advised, these are just rules/suggestions/ideas that I have found useful in my life when interacting with women.  I am also presenting this from the dynamic of Butch-Femme relationships, this may not apply…

View original 1,443 more words

Releasing Us…

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I know you’re angry with me right now. Upset beyond any nice words. Don’t like me at all. And are hurt because you feel like I’ve been playing with your emotions. But I assure you that is not the case. I know you can’t really hear me right now thru the voices of condemnation and bitterness in your head screaming “I fucking knew it! GOD when will I ever learn!” But I have to tell you this anyhow. I wanted to text a simple apology but knew how that would be received. Plus, I said I would stop texting. If you read this then I know at least part of you – the part that knows I am not what you accuse me of being – isn’t completely shut down…

I love you.

I have never stopped loving you.

I didn’t want us to break up.

I wanted us to survive.

But you know this.

start_to_miss_me

I have longed for you, body and mind, for 16 agonizing months. Every day waking up to a fresh new hell. Every night lying awake for hours. Wondering how I could get you back. And in between, I was battling with a crippling mistrust of you. Because of how badly you handled my heart the first time. I had no idea what to do with any of that. For months now I have been cycling thru depression brought on by needing, wanting, aching and loving. Living in a sad world of hopelessness and missing you.

I needed you.

Wanted you to hold me.

Ached to feel you inside of me.

Kissing me.

But you know this.

entangled

First, I had to bear your literal physical defection. Then endure your pity at my inability to get past the pain in a heart you broke. Then witness you moving into a happier place via your blog, without me in your life. I thought that would be the worst. But I was wrong. The worst was the horrible horrible rejection in your silence, after promising me we would keep an open dialogue – no matter what. The reaching out to you thru text, or email, and always thru my blog, was such a lonely place. An empty black-less void where I waited in limbo for you to throw me an emotional crumb. Anything. A lifeline I could have clung too with the thinnest of the thinnest hope. Even your pity would have been better then your silence. And still nothing came for months. Just your complete and utter abandonment.

And eventually.

Something in me died.

Perhaps, it was my self respect.

I became numb to rational thought.

But you know this.

so_much_to_remember

It hasn’t been easy loving you. It’s been as equally beautiful as it has been painful. Sometimes you were indescribably sheer wondrous love. Sometimes you were downright cruel. But my heart connection to you has never been broken. You have been in my skin for 6 long years. A part of every breath I’ve taken. And in that loving of you, I have cried more tears then for anyone or anything in this lifetime. And that is saying alot.

You exposed my heart.

Loving me.

And hurting me.

In places I never knew existed.

But you know this.

stay strong

When I am in your arms you make me feel whole again. Strong again. Like I can do it all. Live all of my dreams. Overcome anything! But I can’t overcome your idea of the dream partner. And She has been a ghost between us for sometime now. She is never far from your thoughts. She is your perfect partner. She has a successful job. She can take you out for dinners and pay for the movies. She can take you on trips or at least afford to pay for her own. She is accomplished. She is the perfect Ying to your Yang. She meets all of your expectations and never lets you down. She is constant and consistent. She is always there for you. She knows how to take care of your needs. She knows how to soothe your anger when it flares. She knows how to talk to you “just so”. She knows how to touch you in all the right places. Fuck you like you want to be fucked. She loves you with the exact balance of “can you love me without touching me” that you need. And She doesn’t live in the gray. She is what you want.

She is perfection.

I am not.

She has created insecurities.

Deep self doubt and shame.

But you know this.

perfection-is-an-illusion

I have grown enough in this past year to finally accept that She is not me. While I meet some of these qualifications, and have many not listed but inherently apart of who I am, I am not where you need me to be. You don’t want to be burdened by my un-accomplished self. I have listened to your needs. As painful as they are to hear at times. Knowing that with every quality I am missing, I move farther down the list. And that, sadly, just loving you doesn’t rank at the top.

I mentioned to a friend that I had told you I would come to Barrie, get myself on the path to financial success, and when I had achieved this to your satisfaction, I would come back to Toronto and we could try again. My thoughts were that you would see how much I had changed. Grown. Become grounded. How much money I was making. How I could afford to take care of myself. That you would not have to do so in any way. I would finally be the perfect partner. And I could slip into that She ghost and be yours forever. But since then, I have come to understand that while I may not be your idea of the perfect partner, I can be someone else’s.

I wanted to be perfect.

Not for me. For you.

So you would love me completely.

And without complaint.

But you know this.

complete you

When I saw you last, we talked about lifestyles and your concerns around money. And not having enough. For you. And that you didn’t want to share yours if it meant not getting the things you want. But, it was when you said, “If I want to go on a trip, and you can’t afford to go with me, then I will go with someone else. A friend…but ultimately, I would like us to go together.” Ya. That’s when it hit me.

We really are so different.

You keep telling me that.

How did I not see it before?

I would never have considered going on the trip without you.

But you know this.

holding hands


I am so so so sorry P.

I fucked up. Inadequate. I know. There’s just no other way to put it.

I have handled you and Kate and my emotional responsibilities badly. Very badly. Because I have wanted you for so long, and loved you with every part of my being, deeply and without judgement, I haven’t let anyone else in. Not even Kate. We’ve been together for over a year now, and rarely does a day go by when I don’t wish she were you. That it was you and I in harmony. In laughter. In playfulness. Having fun together. Sharing a deep compassion and open acceptance for one another. Liking each other for who we are in spite of our imperfections.

She’s giving, kind, selfless, supportive, loving, sexual, sensual, warm, sometimes a little to accommodating, but to her I am She. Even thru all I’ve put her thru in the last year, she still wants to be with me. To share her life with me. To give and do all she can to add to my happiness. She has proven her love and loyalty to me a hundred times over. And I have re-payed her by often hurting her, at times, to her very core. I have been heartless, selfish and dismissive of her deep and sincere feelings. All in the name of loving you.

I have been punishing her because she is not you.

And willing the Universe to give you her qualities.

Jesus.

And I have yet to figure out why!

Why?

Why am I sabotaging a healthy relationship for one that has proven to be toxic over and over again? You aren’t the only one whose mind is screaming with the thoughts, “I fucking knew it! GOD when will I ever learn?” Why can’t I let go of you enough to let someone else in? What is the pull to you? Yes, I have shared with you some of the most intimate and deeply spiritual movements of my soul. And I do recognize how powerful that connection is for me. But you don’t love me from the same place. You never have. And I know this. And I know I need this from you. And I never fucking get it! You are so guarded, so mistrusting, so closed off from your deeper emotional loving self…you want love but you have such a hard time reciprocating.

And sex is not love.

I know all of your weaknesses and still I love and accept you for who you are. But yet you still can’t accept me for who I am. I asked you why is it now you want me back? Feel confident that we are meant to be? Want me to take a leap of faith? Leave Kate and jump back into the fire with you? You told me that when we last connected, you saw us the way you always dreamed we would be. I teased you. Said “Come down to earth my Pisces lover.” Said we’d been on our best behavior and it was only a moment in time. You told me not to underestimate how you felt. I told you I wasn’t. You said you knew what you knew. And I believed you. But you’ve also been telling me to follow my path. To “fuck everybody else” including you. And to do what I need to do for me. To be true to myself. Told me you only wanted me to be happy. Seemed to support everything I told you I wanted and needed. I told you I wasn’t sure about staying with Kate. Because as wonderful as she is, I am not in love with her. I sincerely wish I were. That would make this so much easier. Even so. You told me there would be no pressure from you whatsoever. No expectations.

But you lied.

To me. To yourself.

And I let you.

We deluded ourselves for the sake of the bubble.

But you know this.

And now, because I have not met your expectations, you are hurt. And thru that hurt, all of your dark colors are showing. You’ve ripped into me again with meanness to release the pain.

I was wrong.in the rain

So painfully wrong.

And I am sorry.

Deeply, genuinely, broken-heartedly sorry.

I should never have come to see you. I should never have let my want override my senses. Should never have been intimate with you. I should never have given you one shred of hope that I would leave Kate and Barrie and come back to Toronto. And potentially, back to you. I should never have reached out so desperately for you over the past year. Especially not since coming to Barrie. I should have left you alone. As you were leaving me alone. I should have been stronger. Emotionally. I should have understood that you were prepared to move on and live your life without me. I should never have dragged you back into me. It was wrong. So very very wrong.

It’s not enough to say I’m sorry. But I truly am.

It was so unfair to you.

To me.

To Kate.

I was weak.

But you know this.

My love for you has always made me weak. And letting go has never been easy for me. Blame it on childhood trauma. Blame it on whatever you like. happy sadIt’s the truth. I am weak when it comes to you and I don’t even know why. Not really. I was told it is because I am still in love with the beautiful you whom I rarely caught glimpses of. In love with the good in you. And the lover in you. In love with the fantasy and ecstasy of you, my first love whom I still see as The One. Still want the connection to all of that…to her. And maybe it’s true. I don’t know anymore.

All I know is that I have to stop.

I have to leave you alone.

I have to let go.

For both our sakes.

But you know this.

To do otherwise would truly be committing the selfish act you have accused me of. And whether you believe me or not, read this or not, care or not, I am not that person. I fucked up. Big time. But I am not that person. I do care about how my actions affect other people. And altho I may have wanted something I shouldn’t have asked for, I wasn’t alone in the need. You were fine with how things were playing out, until I fell out of step. And burst the bubble. Then you got hurt. Got mad. Mean. And hurtful. And all of those awful feelings of hurt I have worked so hard to get past and let go of came bursting forward in a painful rush. I admit it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. Perhaps time has lessened the effect. But I assure you, I did feel the turn in you. It was automatic, swift and unpleasant. And I wish I had never seen that side of you again. I understand. I really do. Cuz I get you. But, it was the deciding factor in my decision to finally let go of you.

You deserve to be released.

And happy.

And so do I.

I know you love me. And God knows I love you. But we have stuff. Maybe too much? I don’t know. But I do know that we will never be open to love from or for anyone else as long as we carry the ghost of each other around with us. And as long as you carry the ghost of She around with you, I will never feel like enough for you. And She will always be there. Your ideal perfect partner. You are entitled to what you want P. You deserve to be happy. I sincerely hope you find this paragon of lesbian womanhood. I really do. For it seems only She will truly make you happy. And I deserve better then to spend my life competing with an image that is not me NOW, and may never be.

change-is-never-easyWho knows what new versions of me will appear on this journey? Who cares? Right now I am this version of Me and I am loved for who I am. Warts and all. I don’t want to spend my love on someone who is waiting for me to be a more successful version of me. Someone who can make the sweetest love to me in one breath. Then call me hurtful names in the next. Someone who only sees love and light when their vision is agreed upon, but is unable to stay in that place of  love and light when life changes and the vision has to shift. Life is rarely, if ever, that black and white.

So when you let go of your anger, and your renewed disappointment in me, try and remember that I love you. That I don’t hurt you on purpose. That you were a willing participant in these past few weeks and need to take some responsibility for that. That I never made you any promises either way. That the bubble is a sacred place and was never meant to extend to Barrie.

But you know this.

I will sort my life out. I will make peace with my mistakes. I will continue to strive to live honestly, first with myself and then with others. I will continue to love freely. And I will continue on this path of self awareness and finding my personal truth.

It’s that simple and that complicated.


buddha-lifeSo, please…

Let the anger go. It doesn’t serve you. It doesn’t serve me.

And it changes nothing.

Forgive me as I forgave you.

The heartbeat of your life will be what you make it. For you. Period.

The rest is in the beautiful spaces between.

But you know this too.

<3

Connect. disConnect. reConnect.

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On the negative: I got slammed against the proverbial wall again. Big time. Completing my GBC Community Worker course has been taken off the table.

Unnecessarily so.

Utterly and bitterly so.

And a rage welled up inside of me last night that threatened to swallow everything around me today. I wanted to break something. Feel the satisfying release of shattering something into a million tiny pieces. Destroy it. Like my immediate plans to finish school. And all because of another’s emotional baggage. Insecurities. Fear. Mistrust. And inability to accept the necessary changes gracefully and selflessly.

So fucking done with that!

Seriously.

You have NO idea how done I am with that!

THIS IS THE LAST FUCKING TIME I WILL LET ANYONE STEAL MY THUNDER!

This was supposed to be a fucking defining moment for me.

Astrologically. Academically. Emotionally. Personally. But noooooooo!

So, instead of trashing myself or my space, I went for a long walk today in this fucking balmy 16 below Barrie weather to clear my head and regroup. I kicked a lot of fucking snow around and whipped a few snowballs at many a poor hapless tree. And when I calmed down I went home.

And doused.

Again.

And once more, without any hesitation and a wide resounding circlular “NO”, my Guiding Spirits told me that returning to school is not my path. I now have to agree. Since it’s becoming harder and harder to achieve what I thought was a simple enough goal, peacefully and without major mishap.

On the positive: I am grateful for the introduction to the Ojibwe prof teaching the Urban Aboriginal elective I chose. A wise and insightful man. An elder. He has offered to help me along on my spiritual path of seeking connection to my native Ojibwe heritage. To help me find and then heal my Native identity.

Something I have longed for for years.

In so many ways I am one of the displaced Aboriginals. Adopted out of one culture and placed in another. Having no say in this decision which has left me without a place to call home. No sense of belonging. No sense of purpose. No sense of culture. In essence, no identity. I am neither Just Canadian. Just African Canadian. Just Ojibwe.

I am all three. And still culture-less. How can that be?

Yet, the only thing that has ever resonated deep within are my Ojibwe roots. My connection to the earth, the sky, the water, the land, the Universe, the spirits…the very air we feel and touch and breathe…have been apart of me long before I even knew I had Native roots. I have always just known an affinity to the beauty and soul of Native culture and it’s people. These roots ground me. Connect me to this earth. This culture instinctively touches me the way no other culture has.

I am a part of it. It is a part of me. It is my spiritual skin.

And I have never understood this fully, until now.

Maybe that was the sole reason for my one week return to school? To meet a man who can help connect me to my native Ojibwe roots? Or simply to give me a powerful reminder that they exist within me. In my heart. In my soul. In the very blood that pumps through my veins. And I need to flesh them out.

Either way. Once again. Something is in the air. I can feel it. My fucking defining moment has NOT passed…

The  last time I posted that I felt a shift in the making, it was the mother-load of landslides! But this time, I’m not going down without a fight. I was completely thrown off balance in the last 24 hours because of her reaction. To this abrupt and unexpected disconnect from my goal. But, now that I am calm again and in control of my urge to smash things to fucking smithereens, I have to believe that there’s a reason for this too.

My dance with the Universe is not quite done yet.

There are still a few more…

disconnects. disappointments. reconnects. realizations.

I just need to manage all of them. Understand the reasons. Learn the lessons. And move forward.

I am growing. Regardless.

And I remain proud.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Native Americans see the butterfly as the symbol of change, the soul, creativity, freedom, joy and color. Their power is transformation, shape shifting and soul evolution. They represent the element of air, quickly changing and always on the move gracefully. Butterflies are messengers of the moment. They remind us not to take things too seriously and to get up and move. They teach us that growth and transformation does not have to be a traumatic experience. It can be spiritually uplifting and joyous.

Hmmm…

Maybe being a butterfly isn’t so bad after all. It’s all about perspective, yes? :)

Namaste and Miigwetch

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