Throwaway Girlfriend

My current partner is very good at a lot of things, but one thing in particular is randomly pointing out just how easily my ex partner “kicked me to the curb” and “just threw me away“. Says she would never do that. Says that’s not what people do when they love each-other.

So…

Recently, and totally at my instigation and obvious unhappiness here in Barrie, we’ve been looking into moving to southern, less wintry parts of Ontario. We even considered Vancouver as Kate has family there, a new grandson she hasn’t met, and as everyone keeps telling me, “You’ll LOVE it there!” But, for reasons too numerous to mention, the Universe has clearly said NO.

Grumble.

Last week we had a talk about how few opportunities there are for me to do pretty much anything here in Barrie. It’s so spread out. You need to drive everywhere to get anywhere. I don’t drive. And the transit system here is merely a suggestion.

Winter is coming and the idea of being buried under 6 feet of snow for 5 months is starting to fucking stress me out.

It’s a thing.

During this conversation, I mentioned Toronto and it’s attributes. I could see she was getting agitated. Again. We’ve had this talk before. What can I say? Toronto is my home and will always be my home. I was born there. Have lived 3/4 of my life there. And I miss it. I have family, friends and familiarity there. And to be fair, I gave this Barrie-in-the-fucking-snow-belt thing a go. For three…going on four winters now. It just isn’t for me!

I want out.

She, on the other hand, is a small town girl and has lived much of her life here and in Alberta. She’s used to the long ass winters and mountains of snow. And hates the rush and noise and negative energy of the big city. Any big city. Especially Toronto. And I get it. I’m reaching the point in my life where I’m not super thrilled with the idea of fast-paced-big-city living either. But I also believe that wherever you live on this beautiful planet, YOU get to choose the pace of your life.

I don’t want the city rush and noise and negative energy back in my life, but I do want the feeling of connection. The feeling that I am a part of something. I don’t have that in Barrie. But I do have that in Toronto.

I also have independence.

Barrie has starved me socially. Isolated me physically. Nearly broken me spiritually. And I have to rely on Kate to take me everywhere and anywhere. A thing I am soooo not used to at all!

I hate it here.

And have, pretty much, from the moment I arrived.

She knows this.

Yet, last week when I mentioned Toronto for the umpteenth time, and all that it potentially has to offer, not just for me, but for her as well, she simply said, “Trish. If you need to go back to Toronto, then go.”

I gave her a look which couldn’t have said more clearly, “Reeeaaally???”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I have no desire to move back to Toronto.”

And that was that.

I knew this already. We’ve had this conversation before.

But I think what really surprised me this time around was the finality of her words. I really heard them. Maybe for the first time. She has said them to me before, but this time something rang different. Deeper. Truer. No room for negotiation. Whatsoever.

She said, “Trish. If you need to go back to Toronto, then go.”

But I heard, “I’ll love you as long as you stay here with me. Wherever here happens to be. But I will not love you in Toronto. If you need to go there, you’re on your own. Bye bye.”

And as I stood in the doorway watching her lying in bed, our eyes met in what felt like an unwavering challenge. A gauntlet had been thrown.

I mentally picked up the glove and studied it carefully.

Every scratch and scar and bump and bruise. The ragged rips neatly stitched back together. The leathery palm worn thin in places from endless emotional swordplay. The fingers soft enough for a lovers touch, but sharp in the slap of outrage. Yet the hidden lining remained bright and colorful, cleverly concealing the darkened stains of tearful betrayals.

I finally understood.

Throwaway girlfriend?

Fuck that shit.

Never. Ever. Again.

I am worth so much more than that.

 

 

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Exhausted

Music is back. Yay!

I’m so glad.

Means life inside me is stirring again.

It’s so much a part of who I am.

And it’s been missing for over a month now.

Discovered a new-to-me artist last week.

Tyra B.  Tyra B.  Tyra B.  Tyra B.  Tyra B

Former Girl. Now Boi.

Love her story. Her vibe. And the music she’s producing.

Fun. Sexy. Real.

Doing her thing. 31. Proud. And Finally Out.

A subject close to my heart with the death of my friend.

Today an older song came on while I was cleaning.

And it stopped me in my tracks.

I actually had to sit down and play it again.

And then again.

Blown away how the lyrics represented a moment in my life.

So perfectly.

And cut into me.

So deeply.

I cried.

Silly tears of a sentimental, fractured heart.

Maybe in acknowledgement.

The final reckoning of my unrelenting denial.

Complete.

I remember when she said this exact thing to me.

That she was Exhausted.

I remember how my heart broke.

Because I understood.

And knew she was never really coming back.

It hurt so much then. And it still hurts now.

Yeah…

After all this time.

I am endlessly surprised by the tenacity of this Love.

How it sneaks up on me in moments of unsuspect.

Stimulating memory of touch and kiss and feelings.

It’s unfair!

I don’t want to be that woman.

Stuck in that story.

Of a Life that no longer exists.

It doesn’t matter that I recognize the truth in these lyrics.

That’s the very reason they resonate so deep.

In my heart. In my mind.

In the sensitive curvature of my skin.

It doesn’t matter that it was a lifetime ago.

And yet.

Just the blink of an eye.

It doesn’t matter that I held fast to the belief.

That when you love as much as I loved her.

You stay.

Because she taught me…

Otherwise.

Every line in this song paints our ending.

From the first to the last.

It’s crazy.

But it’s true.

The tears I wipe away are the proof.

For Fuck Sakes.

Fast Foward.

Next song please!

I Need My Space Back :)

So…after debating on this issue for the past week, on and off, I have decided that Coming Out Crooked needs to go back to it’s original format. My reasons are simple. I need my space back. This space was never meant for business consumption. It was meant to be a personal space for me to work out my shit. To capture the journey of my coming out and my life, with all the pain, the sadness, the joy and the love that has been in. I think it’s important that I keep this space for me.

This message is specifically for the followers that have joined ‘my tribe‘ in the past few weeks based on the positivity messages posted here in my JUST DO YOU newsletter. I have a new home for those messages, and for the newsletter, and it’s intention is clear. If you’d like to continue to follow me on that particular journey which is catered more to positive personal development and the power of self-talk, then please find me here!

www.thebuddhaneuron.com

It’s a brand new site. A new venture. A new journey. And it’s literally being built as I write this lol so it will be changing constantly until it’s all done! But the BLOG is up and running and new posts will appear on Tuesdays and Fridays. Right now, it’s where my true focus is so please feel free to join me. Everyone is invited lol. The Buddha Neuron is just as much a part of me as Coming Out Crooked. It just has a different focus. I’m a Gemini. Nuff said! Lol

That’s it!

Have an AWESOME weekend! And perhaps I will see you on the other side!

hugging_face_emoji

 

Why?

I don’t understand the human condition anymore. Perhaps I never did. Why do we break each other so heartlessly? And do the things we do? Why do we hurt those we say we love? Make promises of fidelity. And forever. Then leave?

Why do we cherish their blank canvas then smear it with pain? Praise their strength then cut them down. Pray on their weakness then shame them for it. Calculate coldly for maximum effect? Leaving nothing behind but scattered fragments of a used to be. 

Why do we leave them bloody and broken? Wounded and wary. Afraid to love again. Forever changed in ways that predisposes repetition, regurgitation, and ruin. Unable to break the cycle…

I am

Guilty

Affected

Trust atrophied

From lack of use

And I don’t understand

Why

It was ever necessary

To break me.

Un…

If I had a mirror

With indiscriminate view

I’d show you the seed

That I need in you

She wouldn’t be timid

She wouldn’t be shy

She spread me and show me

Before I could ask why

A tangle of braid

Her fingers screwed tight

Pushing my thighs

Kissing out the light

No gentle sweetness

In the moment of strike

Bruising passion

In every single bite

Lust without reason

Unprecedented touch

For it’s the mind that feels

And craves this so much

You need me

I see that

In eyes

Full of lust

But you stop

Then I stop

And the dance is on

Pause…

So I sit by the this window

Hearing rain beat the ground

And wonder exactly

What is this sound?

Curled up in fetal

And feeling things

That shouldn’t be part

Of this every day dream

You strut and you pose

Your plumage so bright

But it dulls in the quiet

Of your kiss

Goodnight

And I close my eyes

Mirror in hand

And I wonder if

You will ever understand

This need that drives

The longing in me

For the strength

Of reflection

That shimmers

So deep.

I am here

And I want

Have I not

Made this clear?