PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

Finding myself lost again...

Monday, Mar. 04, 2002
When you’re laying in your bed at night and you finally fall asleep then you have a scary dream that you wake up and forget everything about but you remember the fear…..it’s a bad feeling. Several times this weekend I had to pinch myself and then ask myself why I did this. I have had to replay the last 2 years over and over….

I still love my husband. Boy is that ever a statement to make. But…does he love me? How can I ever know when he’s done so many things to me. I realize my moving out has had more to do with my need to know that I don’t need anyone. That I can make it on my own. For me, on my own is very much on my own. Last night I realized that all of the people I speak to are people I have never met in person. This is a scary scary thought. This means that if I wanted to have a party at my new apartment I couldn’t do that because who the hell would I invite?

At 2 a.m. after bad dream number 3 I got up and called my voice mail and I have to say….thank you to e-nymph for the prolific message you left for me. Tears sprang to my eyes. I didn’t feel so damn alone at 2 a.m. because of what you said. Because you reminded me of what I was forgetting.

I miss his body next to mine in bed. I miss hearing him breath that way that he does. I miss listening to my son’s radio playing lowly in the next room. I miss the glow of that nightlight in the bathroom. I miss so many things and yet…I know that I’ll never be whole if I don’t do this.

It’s like a 7 month hiatus for me to figure out what it is that I want in my life. I know that “him” is pretty much a major dick and nope…3 days from now I doubt that anything sweet he does or says will change the fact that I know he’s got those fuckstick moments. Like last night. I called him at 11:30 p.m. to ask him to help me with my circuit breaker in my new apartment. He went off saying, “Kristy..it’s this late and you’re calling me” Now I know he goes to be at 11:30 because his schedule is tattooed on my fucking ass by now…but c’mon. He didn’t even ask me what I wanted. What if I was stranded on a desert island with scorpions sucking the blood from my eyes, he wouldn’t have even waited to find that out. He just said what he said and he hung up. Fuck him. Fuck me for always wanting to believe that his sweet and kind sides are big enough to overlook that ugly stuff.

In the last 3 days I’ve seen some of the best sides of my husband. I move out to find myself…and he helps me clean hand me down furniture all day yesterday. I move out and leave him with all the responsibilities of raising a 9 year old child, and he puts my stove all back together (the complex painted the stove…nasty….grr…..but they left it all discombobulated) just so that I can have coffee in the morning. I find out that I owe Verizon $300 so he puts the phone line in his name so that I have a phone at my apartment. I know he cares about me and he knows I care about him.

On Saturday afternoon right after they brought my new bed, he laid down on it to try it out….and he looked so sweet lying there…it reminded me of the early years…the years when we were so full of hope and dreams…I went over there and laid down with him. He grabbed me and kissed me the way he used to and I remembered….and we both started kissing…full mouths on mouths….tongues dancing with tongues….skin against skin….. I really think that somewhere in the last 2 years of all this stuff….all the money problems …all my wonderings…..he and I forgot each other. For brief moments that came in flashes all weekend, I started to remember. Started to ask myself why I was leaving this man that loves me enough to drag a loveseat up two flights of stairs for me. A man that loves me enough that when I said I needed time and needed to find myself and know that I could take care of myself….paid for the two months rent required for me to move.

I know that I need time. I need to do this. I’m scared half out of my mind. But something deep inside me is almost now wishing that he and I can figure it out and find a way back to each other. Bucky saw us hugging and he said, “you guys can go out on dates now and Daddy can bring you flowers to your door.”

Bucky was awesome all weekend. He helped me move my books and my CD’s. He helped me scrub the furniture and he was a major little trooper. Totally a trooper.

I’m getting my internet service back tomorrow night and I have my digital cam. I’m going to take some pictures of my place….as bleak as it is…it’s also pretty kewl. I’ll show ya soon.

To everyone that sent well wishes, signed my guestbook and is just out there rooting for me…thank you. It does matter to me and it does make a difference. I’m getting my pc back up and running and I’m writing that book. I think maybe “Absent from my Life”.

I told my husband and this is exactly how I feel. I feel like I want to push the pause button and spend 7 months on me. Just me. And then I want to go back to my life. And maybe it will be there and maybe it will be better. Maybe he will be gone. Maybe he won’t want me back. That’s the risk I was willing to take. And yah, maybe in 7 months I won’t want it back. That’s a possibility too.

I know this morning when husband dropped off “Bucky” at my apartment for breakfast/mommy time before school….it was pretty sweet watching him wrap up in my quilt and watch The Matrix on my TV. I know it all felt ok. It’s just when I crawl into that Princess bed…I wonder where my Prince is. Was he my Prince all along, I just neglected him and he went and found attention somewhere else? Was it partially my fault? So many questions….

But hey in the meantime, I bought two kickass lamps at Target for $16. Target rules! lol And now I can see myself think it all through.

-PoeticaL


Finding myself lost again
Finding myself lost again
losing myself by what I find
Finding myself loosing my mind
-Eleanor McEvoy
12:48 p.m. ::
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