I am worthy

The hiatus is over, the limbo is no more, as I wait for the final yes from Dr. Lee I see myself on the brink, on the edge, on the cusp, the ending and the beginning, no turning back now. This time, this pause, has been a respite, from the reality of this pain, the reality of this joy, the reality of reality. I have been a guest, a vanished girlfriend, a specter, a secret not revealed, not wholly owned yet. I am still not official, half way between here and there, the story still not told, the facts remain to be seen. I am not hers, I am not hers either. I belong to neither. Lindy is not gone, is not over, is not finished. I miss her so much, the pain is so deep, the sadness so clear to me. I am still there, hanging on, hoping, wondering, is this a mistake, did I give up too soon? 14 years of hoping, cannot be too soon. Did I give her enough notice? I fired so many warning shots…why do I doubt myself? What is the fear? I must embrace the fear, must embrace the depth of my insecurity. It is fantasy, she is emboldened, I am working some glamour, I am yet another obsession, another no girl, another whoever is on the list of failures and falsifications. How am I so different? How am I so truly lovable? How can she ever know? And how can I believe that it is real, that it will last, that I will be what she wants, in 6 months, a year, five years? She wants sex and passion and love, but for how long? And when on earth will my charm run out? When will my magic wear off, the meals become monotonous, the sex perfunctory, the charm less shiny. Gardens planted, rooms painted, laundry folded...I have no idea how to be this person, this frightened insecure wondering girl. Looking for answers that cannot come, looking for reassurance that falls on deaf ears, seeing trust where there is no ground to stand on. I cannot ask, she cannot convince, there is no word, no promise, it does not exist, cannot exist, in my ever seeking, searching heart of darkness. Will I end up alone? Should I have stayed to avoid that? How could I have stayed? There was nothing to stay for. To stay just to have a warm body nearby? Pathetic, tragic, ridiculous. But to be alone, unloved, unwanted, perhaps not now, but soon, to be rejected, found out to be human, is this a risk I dare to take? I have taken it…perhaps this was the softer path to extricate myself. Perhaps this was the only way that I would have left, to the comfort of another’s arms, to the companionship of a lover, to a new and safe home, without the struggle and fear of utter alone-ness. But I find myself wishing for yet another stop. Yet another admonition from the doctor. No you cannot go. But I can go now. I can return to that home that place and claim myself from it. I can collect my things, collect myself, and bundle myself up in leaving. Am I ready to leave? Am I ready to be a new Simone, the Simone without Lindy. I have been that girl for so long. I have known that life forever. Who am I if I am not Simone & Lindy. How do I put on this new me? Shrug off the old comfortable self for the new, tighter, smaller, lesser me. there is so little of me now, literally, figuratively, but not emotionally or spiritually. Why am I so afraid of this thing that I have yearned for, years of desire for this love, and here it is, here she is, like a delicately wrapped present, like the winning lotto numbers, handed to me with grace and dignity, handed to me with open hands, open heart, adult mind, beauty of soul and spirit, sensuality beyond measure, expression, passion, love, taste, love...mine for the taking, and yet I hold back, I protect my small self, spiting my big self. What will it take for me to let go? What will it take to let go of this fear? I never ever want to live that life again, a life with lies, a life of cards, but here I am unwilling, fearful, terrified that I will find myself in yet another one act play, the monologue unending, the audience asleep, the curtain waiting to fall. Have I chosen this person for this exact reason? To prove to myself that there is no security, that there is nothing I can gain from her, or anyone, that will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will be okay. In fact, I can answer that now, I will not be okay. and I will be okay, so how do I land in there, touch down in that space, park myself in that no mans land, step to the edge of the wood? What will it take to submit? To let go? Oh I am a liar, a fraud, a charlatan. How can I claim I longed for this? Then tip toe around the edges of it? Peek behind the curtain, looking for Oz? I am a coward, a traitor to myself, a child in adult clothing, a sheep in wolf's clothing....I deserve better, she deserves better. And if this love that I feel now is just the beginning, how will I survive if I enter it into it fully? The risk is too immense to imagine, the loss too much to survive, the pain, unbearable, but the love so sweet, so tender, so uplifting, so abiding, how can I choose the one instead of the other? How dare I, when faced with this choice, no run headlong into this love? Does this happen to people? TO me? Is this not what movies are written about, cliched and sappy? laden with metaphor, mellifluous dialog, snappy repartee, orgasms in coffee shops, montages of fun days, small losses and reconciliations, sweeping camera moves and soundtracks that make us swoon? This is Jane Austen, Emily Bronte, Rilke, not life, my life is Dorothy Parker, my life is a well worn story, I am not Sally, or Harry, or finally asleep in Seattle, or anything having to do with Nora Ephron or Julia Roberts...so now what? So now how do I drop that? Return that book and tear up my library card? Pick up a new pen, crack a new Moleskine, start a new chapter. I have shed so much, is this the last vestige? The last 10 pounds of reticence? The final frontier of my soul? To go where I have not gone before? to venture into the dark night of my soul? release the story, the lies of the past, the facade, the mantra, the inaudible groove worn tape, the idea that was whispered to me insidiously long ago? Yes please G-d, take me there. Rip this from me. Tear it away as it cleaves to my heart, gut it out like cancer, dissect me to the core, let me at once surrender to this love. Every day forward I will step closer to it. Its enormity terrifies me. How can I of all the souls that roam this earth, deserve this love? this life? I am altogether undeserving, wholly flawed, entirely and utterly devoid of merit, a sinner, corrupt and immoral, faithless at my core, fragile, selfish, petty and small, and yet I am given grace. To hold this knowledge in my small human mind, is impossible. To imagine the love that is shown me, unthinkable, what power can exist that can show me such good will? Humbled beyond words. Lucky beyond gifts. Blessed beyond angels. Give me the strength to give in. Give me the courage to walk, no run towards her. Let me live this life, let me live this love. Let me believe that I am worthy.

Hanging Ten

Today I am the fool
I am the fool I have always wanted to be
the fool I have strived for, worked for, prayed for, meditated for
wished for her lightened soul
smiling while hanging ten over the edge
meeting the cliff
eyes lifted
heart free
willing to risk failure, humiliation, pain
devastation - bring it
embarrassment - I'm ready
pain, separation, loss, grief, hatred, resentment, rancor,
sing me your siren's songs and I will come crawling no
clawing my way to you
I will wallow around in your darkness
and I will prevail
there is no place I would rather be
than here, in this terrifying location of my heart
She has destroyed me and I am utterly free

I set out to dazzle and destroy, and here I am the victim, the patient, the injured the devastated
My skin is rent from my body, my dance unhinged, my story broken, my cover blown
nothing is what it was, I am unleashed, unfettered, and yet wholly, entirely one

I know now there is no safety in this life, no story to be told, no lie to be woven into the truth
this ache, this pain, this suffering, this desire for some word, some gesture, some musing that will tie down my vagrant soul, pacify my endless bottomless echoing emptiness of self-doubt, despair, longing, lingering childhood desire, or secure the insecurity, it is not there. I am not there. This is my there.

I must float, roam, meander, mince, prance and run my way straight through but lingering long, sitting down for a rest, breathing in the grass, feeling the fallen log, the dewy wetness, the gloomy clouds, the mouldering leaves, the hot, wet, dry cold wind of that place. Neither moss, nor sand, water, nor rock, night or day. I must build a fire, collect wood, create a shelter, gather up berries, make friends with the night owl, shiver in the damp, count the shooting stars, mourn for the creatures, smile at the dawn of that horrible, amazing place. It is where I live now, on the edge of the wood, neither here, nor there, no discernible location, no knowable address. Where on earth do I reside? nowhere, and everywhere. I will unpack my things, make my bed, lie down in my new home, fold the linens, empty the dishwasher, and let the love flow freely, because the hum of the pain will forever drown out the light if I let it. Will forever be my soundtrack if I do not change the tune.

So now I sing the new song. The song of love and hope, the song of you, the song of me, the song I was born singing, the song of my heart, the song of my wild and precious, chain-less soul.

Fiction

I miss you. I miss you a lot, I miss our life, I miss what I thought we had, I wish there was a way to put it back to what I thought it was going to be, but it was never that, never was going to be that and it breaks my heart every moment. I lived a very long lie, I dreamed a dream, smokey haze of fantasy, and the daylight is bright, harsh and blinding, brash bold truth crashing into my broken dream. Alone without you feels like a phantom limb, but the limb I never had, was never born with, for you are not you, I am not I, we never were the we that I had dreamed, the we that I had wanted, the we we pretended so hard to be. We were a sketch of the thing, a pencilled outline, a watercolor, edges running together, smeared charcoal, resembling a portrait but then not, smudged inky blurred lines between what was, and what I wanted it to be. How I lived for so long in that haze? How I dreamed so deeply of the thing that was never to be. Were you ever who you said you were? Was I? And now, faced with my new reality, my new me, the me that I truly am, how do I look back lovingly? How do I look back with compassion? Without hate for the story, the lie, the fiction? Without hating myself, hating you. Robbed of so much love, so much life. Half life. Shadow life. I live now, in the sunshine, in the real light, in the real life. It is not the same, not the smeared approximation of what I wanted. I live the truth now. My truth, so much less, and yet so much more. Where are you in this life? Where am I. Is there a place for you here? How I wish for you to be real to steal back to the days when you loved me. How I miss you. But there is no you there no me there just a pile of boxes and lies and fiction. Today there is no story to tell no web of fantasy no smoke no mirrors but light and truth and my heart leaps bounds sails flies with the gossamer thin sheen of reality. I conceal nothing hide myself nowhere speak no half truths live no fiction but the ache is real I mourn what I never had what I have now truth

Floating

No footing to stand on
No ground to claim
I am floating
into the ether of this life
so much fear and doubt
so much insecurity
but I will do as the masters tell me
push my heart out through my chest
breathe
and step toward it
how do I give myself fully?
without waiting for the other shoe?
perhaps I need to be barefoot now
feel the earth and sand dirt and rocks beneath me
there and yet not there
both solid ground and mercurial foothold
there is no answer to my hesitation
there is no guardian of my heart
to live I must surrender to the suffering
and suffer I will
but live I must