The New Me

I send him a text message when something makes me think of him.  He doesn't respond.  It's okay.  What could he say anyway?  The same thing he said last time.  He can send a laughing emoji.  I release him again but this time I release him with no assumptions.  I don't know what he thinks.  I do know what he hasn't said or done. That is enough. In a few days I return to work, to a job that even now stifles me a bit..  I don't know what the year will bring and I am a bit weary of it. There may be an opportunity for some growth or at least some learning and I will need that to keep everything new.  Right now, I start to set up my systems to get through the winter and stay balanced and healthy. Some kind of emptiness threatens right now, I think somewhere deep inside I'm feeling fear there is a small, "What if this is it?"   This morning I read, The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz and will try to carry them through my days.   They are:  1. Be impeccable

 I have a few days to shift, to change my energy, to rise.  I feel like it's real this time because the force trying to pull me back is strong too.  Today I clean my room.  I will then spend the rest of the week decluttering and organizing. 

I rise but the rise sometimes seems embarrassingly slow.  Now, I start again.  This week I need to clean up my resume and apply to jobs.  I want to both start a business and work at a non-profit.  I want to travel for work but not too much.  

 I'm focused; it's all happening and I am grateful.  This is right. 

Right now: I've fallen off of the wagon.  I wake up to Roger's name in my head and let him go again every night.  I am convinced he knows he does this to me.  My heart skips a beat when he calls me Sweetie or Luv even though those things are generic and he has an actual sweetie. I don't know how many Luvs there are so I practice the willing suspension of disbelief for the duration of any conversation.  I had an ex who called me ángel and then I met the other angel... lovely story...  But for that man, at this time, these ears and this brain betray me and my response is immediate and visceral. I quickly check myself.  My mind pulls me back into duty and the internal battle commences but I want more...  Why do I want more?  Is there even more to have?    He's a lot, but I think his eyes are bigger than his appetite and he can't handle what's already on his plate which is considerably more than I see. I think the heaviness is not just weight or age. It is that, tha

I think I  w orry that you are still a boy playing boy games and I am a woman who sees you as a man, who sees you as THE man she wants to touch, to play with, to keep.  But I cannot touch you.  I made you videos finding words that would help me release you and they were too long to send so I told you about them.  You said you wanted to see them.  I said I think the universe is protecting me from myself by not allowing me to send them.  You offer me a ride to talk.  We talk about nothing but then I get a treat I ask you if you're really a Trumper.  You say yes and tell me why.  Clearly people have accepted your answer and you are surrounded by people who are grateful to have a response no matter how shallow, selfish or simply false there are truths there and they have to do with groups and acceptance and belonging and the way that creates an identity.  There is an absolute propagandistic genius. But I love the discussion.  I feel strongly but I listen.  I replay your words.  I'v