The Ones You Love

OK, so I have the title, but what about the rest.

This is just going to be a rambling post. It feels like I haven't posted in a couple of days. I guess I'm getting used to writing. It's become something that I miss like a loved one far away. Perhaps you don't think of them every second, but when your world gets quiet they fill your thoughts.

I had some strange dreams over Shabbos. And I mean STRANGE! My dreams are usually very vivid and that includes this one. I can even remember the street signs and the names of the people I met. It started with someone moving in next door to my mom's house. A couple around my age, with no kids, and a spotted mutt.

They were celebrating their anniversary with a good friend (guy), and their parents. Somehow I got pulled into it and we were watching old movies. The friend and I were hitting it off because I was impressed with the fact he knew the names of the actors and had seen other movies starring them. Actually, the real reason why I was impressed was that the movies were romantic ones, and he just didn't strike me as the type of guy who would watch them let alone remember them.

I felt pulled towards him and shy and embarrassed at the same time which, of course, caused me to trip over my own feet while helping carry the dessert plates to the kitchen. I could feel my face turn warm, and can feel it right now even though it was only a dream.

You can tell that dream was definitely realistic. Sooo something that I would do. Except in real life the plates would have crashed to the floor breaking into pieces.

When I left the house I couldn't remember his name, and I remember getting all flustered again and hoping he didn't notice. Of course, that wasn't the case. He winked like he knew what I was feeling which ended up with me almost falling down the stairs outside.

My dream somehow shifted to ex-boyfriends. (Yes, I have a lot of them) Moshe was the one who had the starring role. In the dream he wanted to marry me. I thought it was kind of funny in my dream because we cared about each other very much in real life, but I don't think he ever really felt that way about me. Just to let you know, I sometimes recognize the fact that I'm dreaming or that my dreams incorporate so much of real life that during them I'm trying to figure out when things actually took place, or feelings changed.

Back to Moshe... He looked like Moshe, blonde hair, blue eyes, Cubs baseball cap, white T-shirt, blue jeans and several inches taller than I was. He spotted me from his apartment where he was having a party and his buddies started yelling at me to stop. They were shouting that Moshe had something important to ask me. I remember being very surprised because it was during a Cub's game, and nothing came between Mosh and his Cubs, but there he was running across the lawn to me. I started running away once I realized what it was he was going to ask me.

I've always loved Moshe. No! Not like that. Even though, we did fool around a bit. I met Moshe my first year in seminary and we both went back second year. You might think that I was rebellious and didn't respect my teachers and rebbeim, but that wasn't the case, even though he did sleep over in our apartment one night. That was a fun night. And no, I wasn't thrown out, even though I walked into sem the next day sporting a hickey in plain sight.

OK, back to the crazy dream. Before Mosh had a chance to ask me the dream slipped into a different scene. It was Pesach and my family was having a seder with another ex-boyfriend's family. They've never really met, and I remember being surprised that we were all together. The ex wasn't there though. At some point his parents made a disparaging comment about me, and my mother took umbrage. (No, I don't use the word umbrage in my regular speech, but it fits here and it's fun to do.) A big fight ensued and I slipped out the door not wanting to get involved.

That's when Mark, Izzy, and some other exes showed up, and I got lost trying to get to some other friends. I was wearing pink yummy fleece pajamas, my winter coat, my big clodhopper snow boots and my usual baseball cap, Yankees, of course.

The rest of this dream will have to wait...

And I think that I'll also write the post that should go with the above title.

The Final Word

Said in anger there is finality

with sadness there is longing

in joy for the certainty of again

and too quickly, followed by regret

Living A Story

Her writing fills her life
As living never does
Dreams and poems become real
Closing her eyes
Trying to hide behind written pictures of joy and passion
Tears flow with the words and pour from her fingers

And I know the sorrow
Wishing for the fulfillment in her stories
Hoping for a life of her dreams

To go back in time and start again wouldn't help
To go forward would only make the past less familiar
I don't want to let go of the hurt that releases him
To know that not even cries remain
When they are gone so is his existence in my world
Just another character imagined in my life of books
Rereading friends and living the lives of others
To disappear from my own
Sometimes the hurt and pain continue through the day,a dull ache
At others, a familiar song stabs my memory
And rips his loving words from my heart with an anguished cry

To live for others is only existing
I hide behind smiles
Believing that none can see the dull pain of alone

She doesn't search through crowds for his face
To recognize his walk in a crowd
Straining to see... hoping he is returning to her
But knowing that will never be
Even with their meeting.

How do you live with sorrow?
Is it forgotten in a drawer with letters folded and worn from longing?
The memories of caring words in deep voices fill my mind
And the suffering leaks down my face
Cooling the passion that is still there.

Don't leave me
Don't let me leave you
Don't say goodbye
Don't wish me well
Just go and give me forgetting your laugh
So that I can continue on my walk for others
Across an empty world

Whatever I Feel Like

Some of you have asked what's been going on with me and Cowboy. I can't really tell you because I don't really know, and I bet you he's reading this thinking the same thing.


I've just decided to do whatever I feel like doing (and saying). If it's a problem, I'm sure I'll hear about it. He's rarely at a loss for words, although, I'm almost certain it does happen on occasion. ;-)

Reading About Dating

On the way to and from Kansas this past week I managed to stop at this book outlet. The prices are pretty good, but they were having a sale so they were even better. If you purchased over $15 of books they would take off 50% of your total. That's an invitation I couldn't resist. Plus there were stacks of books for a buck each.... hardcover books. I had a party. I couldn't hold all the books and they were soon spilling out of the basket I was given..... mysteries (for mom), illustrated classics for children (for DB), books about Marines, battles and Israel (for dad)... Every book I purchased (even if it was for someone else) will be read by me eventually, but I'm the only one in the family reading science fiction, the classics, and books about neurodevelopmental dysfunction, auditory processing disorder, dating , marriage and sex in marriage.


Books are my friends. Yes, I have human friends too. But I've always turned to books as a refuge and as enjoyment. I get lost in the words and the worlds become real. I've been an Indian princess (when I was younger), scientists, explorers of strange worlds, architects, doctors and cowboys not to mention a sorceress who can talk to animals, and a wizard of Earthsea. Whenever a movie comes out about a book I read I always hesitate about seeing it. I don't want to see the story changed or the characters look different than how I picture them... but usually my curiosity gets the better of me. Even when there is a picture of one of the characters on the book I try to ignore it and form my own view.


Kinda got sidetracked or maybe not.... I guess it's to be expected that I would also turn to books for information about dating. I've read lots of these books Mars And Venus On A Date, The Kettle The Fish and The Bird, The Everything Dating Book. I feel that I need as much help as possible because I don't want to end up with the same man twice. That is if I (want to) get married again. Yes, I know that's cynical. Maybe I'm thinking that way as a protection in case it ends up happening (that I don't get married). Deep down I know I would love to spend the rest of my life with someone. I want to share what I love with someone and be quiet with them in front of a fire on a rainy day, and wake up to kids jumping on top of us wanting to play, and go to bed knowing that we would only fall asleep after we were sweaty and out of breath.


Yeah, yeah, I haven't mentioned arguments or bill paying and kids interrupting you in bed because they don't feel well and then happen to throw up all over you. I know what's involved. I just think it would be nice to share it with someone who could kiss me when we makeup and let me handle the bill paying on time, and most of all join in my laughter and cleaning up of the gross stuff after the child is put to bed feeling better.


Obviously, I did some reading about dating this Shabbos. Maybe it will help me later on down the line. I think it might even help me now. One book made me feel better about saying good-bye to Man and to be proud that I didn't continue in a relationship that would end up going nowhere. But the downfall is that it is really more difficult for me to imagine csbf and I really would like sex without any attachments. Having some has left me wanting more except now I think I would like to have it all. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?

Butterflies Everywhere

How many butterflies can you count in this picture?

You see, I had a great-uncle who was a lepidoptorist (someone who studies butterflies and moths) that was nifter recently. That was what I told the forensic psychologist after I had seen my fourth butterfly in less than three Rorschach pictures.

Don't most people see butterflies? It is an inkblot dropped in a middle of a paper and then folded in half. But there weren't just butterflies in the pictures. I also saw rocket ships and an alien. Of course, it only dawned on me when I was talking to Gretel about the testing that I should have told the forensic that I read a tremendous amount of science fiction.

Should've also mentioned that I have a very vivid imagination. I saw at least four different things in every picture. Although, that was after I turned some of them upside down. It was an interesting evening. I've never had a Rorschach test before and didn't even know they still gave them. At first I was worried about my answers hurting the case, but it was over and there was nothing I could do about it..... except laugh and wonder what he thought about the fact that I also saw a bleached cow's skull with horns in one of the pictures. I guess now he knows that I am one really strange cookie...... strange, but not psycho. At least that's what the voices in my head tell me.''

answer - zero, not really butterflies