Again

It hurts... again. He said he would call back, and he didn't. Not even to say that he can't talk.

I'm worried. I hope everything is fine with his family.

It appears as if he turned off his phone, and that hurts.

I don't know what to think.

It hurts. What happened? Why didn't he call? Doesn't he know just how much it hurts me and how much I miss him???

I want to strike back. I want to cry. I want to curl into a ball and not let anyone touch my heart again.

I know I'm exaggerating. But I'm not. It hurts.

The tears are slowly slipping down my cheeks, and I am wishing that they carry the hurt with them. Out of me.

I try to tell him how much or how important it is for me to talk to him. Maybe it's too important. Maybe it's too much.

I don't need him. Make me don't need him. Make me don't care. Make it go away.

Maybe I expect too much. I'm sorry if I do. I'm sorry that I believe you when you say you will call. I don't need you. I don't need anyone. Just go away and I'll be fine.

Dylan

It ain't me...

Broken

Different Ways

There's always a way to do something. You just have to figure it out if it's important enough to you.

There's a way in and sometimes it's hard to find the way out.

There are many ways to say good-bye, and quite a few to say hello.

I've had a few new hello's recently. One is from a sweetheart of a man whom I spoke to last night for an hour and a half. Yeah, yeah, I know I was only supposed to talk to him for 15 minutes. It's obvious from this, and this that I have a pretty thick skull. BUT I'm working on it.

He's 11 years older than I am, but I didn't feel like he was an "old man". He sounds like fun and recently broke a finger playing basketball. I like that, not just because I've done that myself, but because he likes to have fun and do things.

Another hello came from someone 10 years younger than I am. It is hard for me not to doubt that he is really interested in dating me for marriage. But he said he has no problem with bringing me and DB home to his family. He was very open with me about some other things which made me believe what he was saying. BUT I still know that I am gullible and easily taken in so I'm just going to see what happens.

We had a good chat last night for about two hours. And I didn't feel any disparity between us because of the age difference. He called and left a message today to wish me Good Shabbos. I got a nice note from the older guy about our talk last night that also put a smile on my face.

Of course, these two new guys need names. I'll have to come up with something if I think they might be around for awhile. There also another man, but I don't know if he's still interested.

Don't ask me what I'm doing I'm not quite sure, and I don't want to rebound into any relationship. I still have feelings for Cowboy, but I'm trying my best to push them down.

I don't want to talk about him.

update: another man just contacted me hadn't heard from him in a week... he's 13 years older more later...

Another Loss

The Yankees did it again in their fight for last place.

They were up by four runs two separate times with four homeruns and still managed to lose in the 11th inning.

THREE ERRORS!!! WHAT IS THE DEAL!?!?!

His Song Part 2

He hides behind words
and write in riddles
hoping to be discovered
by the one he loves

pushing her away
he tries harder
everyday
to win her

the tears he cannot shed
live forever in his head
and his blood keeps on pulsing
through this unforgiving world

smiling, she passes by
he struggles to let go and fly
to join on her journey
the dreams she longs to live

reality pushes them apart
and he struggles for her heart
to capture his fleeing soul

joined as one
they fall into the sun
and their love consumes them

Tension Can Be Painful

My shoulder and neck hurt. A friend of mine says that I am carrying a lot of weight on them. I don't know about that.

What I do know is that I am so thankful for those air activated sticky heating pads. They loosen up my neck and take some of the pain away. Without them I would be stuck at home with a plugged in heating pad on my shoulder or standing in a hot shower letting the water pound out the knots.

What I would really love is to have some strong hands massaging these painful spasms away. Until that time, I will take advil, try to stop clenching my jaw (it just adds to the tightness in my neck that travels up to and into my ear), and try to relax.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated. It's hard to sleep when you're tossing and turning trying to find a way to get comfortable.

He Called

He called. Cowboy that is.

But don't ask me what's going on. I don't think either of us know.

It was enough for now just to hear the voice I love so much.

I Miss You

I miss you. Even if I could write I miss you at the beginning of every sentence I send to you, it cannot describe the loss I feel at not being able to hear your voice. I can't see the words I'm typing because my tears blur the screen.

I haven't slept. I've tried, but I only start crying and feel my chest ache to the point that I hold my hands against it to keep it from ripping apart. The tears fall slowly one by one down my face or in a torrent of sobs that shake my body and make me gasp for air.

I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you. It hurts. It hurts that I don't know how you are. I'm davening. I'm asking Hashem to take care of you and make you happy... to let you smile and laugh.

Am I... When I...

Swallowing Tears

How do you swallow the tears to numbness
Forgetting what was there
The joy lifting you above is now shoved down
with the pain
Silent drops escape and my chest is sore
from being ripped in two.
In the sun it is easier to pretend life is fine
but at night it will not be contained
and flows into a river of hurt down the worn tread of thrown away dreams
memories of what could have been follow my footsteps dodging my happiness
trying to forget what never existed
my tired eyes cannot see the future
clouded by visions of unknown ecstasy
the knot gets stuck in my throat and will not go down easily
pulling us with it.

DB's List

At brunch today we went around the room and everyone mentioned what they loved the best about their mom. DB was second and he brought tears to my eyes. "I love my mom 'cause she helps me with homework." That's true. We sit together sometimes for hours working.

"I also love my mom because she got me Cutie." That's his cat. Since DB doesn't have any brothers or sisters to commiserate with when mom has been "unfair", I made sure he had a pet to tell all his troubles too. She's one of his best friends in the world.

The last thing DB said was what surprised me and touched me, "I love my mom because she finds the bright side to things." Wow! I felt so proud of my son for recognizing this trait and appreciating it. The other adults gave me looks over his head as if to say you have a very special boy. He hasn't even made it into double digits, but his confidence and ability to express himself is something I would expect of a much older child.

We have a lot of craziness in our lives, and I try to keep things easy and simple for DB. Sometimes it's just not possible, and that's when I try to find something good in what's going on. In some instances, there's just no way to do this, and it would also be denying the awfulness of what's taking place. But whenever I can I try to find something that DB and I can smile and laugh over.

The weird thing about this is that I admire this trait in DB, and I've told him so. I guess I didn't realize that I was the one he was learning it from.

Just Listen

When I talk to my friends about things that are going on in my life I don't expect answers or solutions. In fact, I don't usually appreciate them. I just need to talk. I usually know exactly what's going on and what needs to be done. This is my life after all. I just need to vent or hear my thoughts out loud.

I try my best to do this for my friends too. It used to be much more difficult. I hurt when the people I care about hurt, and I used to want to solve everything. I find that listening is appreciated more, and if they really need advice my friends will ask for it.

Even if I share similar characteristics to you, what you might find a workable solution may not necessarily apply to me. I am my own person and make my own choices so it bothers me if someone feels that they are responsible for giving me "bad advice" and what occurs afterwards. In no uncertain terms, is that true. For one thing, if you give me advice it doesn't necessarily mean that I'm taking it. For another, by apologizing for the advice you gave, it is as if you are assuming direct responsibility for my actions.

I love my friends, but I resent when they do that. If I choose to do something, it may not be because of your advice even if you did mentioned it.

I know I'm a little bit touchy about this. It might come from the fact that I lived under someone's control for quite some time and had to work very hard to break free of it.

Thanks for listening.

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

Becoming Jane

Happy endings can be written
but not lived with the passion
and yearning for their life together

Alone in the future with words for company
each story ending with love
while her own must continue without
not willing to hurt him through his family

Doing what is right and necessary
Instead of what is wanted
For a love never to be lived
but imagined and dreamt
Created with characters

each one, him
each hero, him

because her thoughts are full of him
and the only way to rid herself of them
is to give them to others
as she has given him to others

Everyday, every night
She remembers his behaviors and tones
With a smile on her face.
Hoping that he is happy
That what she has lost
He has gained without her

She was never erased
Always a reminder
In a name of a beloved child

It does not still the beating of her heart
or dry the tears on her soul

He has not forgotten


If only he had,
then perhaps one day she will.

I Hate Love

It hurts too much.

I hate limbo because I don't know what I'm expecting then I'm not at ease and can't experience what I really feel. All that I feel then is anxious. It colors everything a pukey sea green kind of color that reminds me of hospitals where I've done a lot of anxious waiting through my life.

I'm horrible at making decisions, not all decisions just a few and of those only the ones that impact on me singularly. I would love for someone to make these decisions for me, but then what would be the purpose of me being involved in my life at all?

I don't know whether to cry or yell so I do neither. The pain is muted right now. I have too much going on in my life to feel it completely or maybe I just don't want to face it.

I feel like I'm losing a best friend, and he's not even lost. It just that things are in limbo, but I have this feeling. Anyway... I'm sure my tears will come. But my eyes are dry right now. I guess, I'm trying to push it down. I've never felt this way about someone. Maybe it was easier to care about him like this because he was so far away. So that this wasn't "real." Then why does it still hurt?

I have too good of an imagination. I let dreams get the best of me. At this point in my life, I should know that there is no such thing as "happily ever after." But I do know that. I don't want perfect. I just want to share. I want to share smiles and tears, arguments and make-ups, family dinners and slamming doors.

I wish... I hope... I dream... and I curse myself for wanting the impossible.

Didn't reread. Don't want to read this again.

Ow! I Did It Again

Yup, I did it again... self-inflicted.

Late last night I was having a conversation with a good bud of mine in Israel. I was in bed while I was talking because it was so late, around 2 a.m. He wanted some help with something so I was on my laptop (to you smart asses out there, not actually sitting on it) and I was trying to get comfortable.

Maybe it happened because I was tired, maybe because the conversation had most of my attention, maybe because I was trying to find something on my computer at the same time, or just maybe it was because I'm very talented at inflicting different wounds on myself. I scooted my tush to lean back in bed and BANG! I conked the back of my head on the wall behind me.

Yes, I knew there was a wall behind me. It's what I lean my pillows up against when I'm writing, reading or working. No, the wall has not moved any closer to my bed recently, and no, I had not been drinking.

I've got a nicely sized raised bump on my head. When I do something, I make sure to do it right. But at least it can't be seen like some of my other mishaps here and here and yes, here. And I finally understand the saying "seeing stars". The pain took a minute to register and then WHOMP! It hit me like a ton of bricks, or a cement wall, take your pick.

Hand me another bag of ice and stop laughing!! OK OK, how can I ask you to stop when it still makes me giggle, hee hee. I hope the swelling will go down enough so that I can put on one of my numerous baseball hats when I go to pick DB up from school.

A Friend's Letter

A friend of mine lives in Israel with his family. Here is part of an e-mail he wrote to me this morning.



It's so sad here, CR. I've been listening to the funerals on the radio this morning. Heartbreaking - tear-rending. Crying mothers and fathers and teachers.

Two of the boys were Yoni's age (15). He listened with me, and we held our hands together for a few minutes with his head on my shoulder as they spoke of the irony of bringing in the month of Adar in joy, while we cry over this massacre of these young, idealistic men - they were the best of the best, CR. Most of the others weren't much older than Yoni, either. It hit home.

It's like, I wanted the journalists to stop - to take the microphones away from the parents. I wanted them to stop recording the parents crying. I wanted them to leave them to their pain. I don't know if it was because of how hard it was for me - maybe it's because of that, that I felt it must be hard for them. I could feel it.

God?

questions just bring more pain
containing my own for his release

NO
reason why
can erase the trauma etched on his soul
kind and loving god. HA!
No person let alone a god would hurt a child like this.

my hurt is nothing compared to his
but I am not alone in my pain
guilt and tears accompany me
confusion and self-blame attach themselves to my child's soul.

A replay goes on and on through my mind
Is there anything that really could have prevented this?
It would have happened at some time anyway

Are we predestined for pain?
As much as I love him I wish that he would've chosen
someone who could protect him
somewhere without need of protection

god has a sick sense of humor
if he wants my supplications hurt me, destroy me
but not an innocent

his wishes to control the world
are echoed with mine
turning back time

prayers are stuck in my throat
tied to my heart in pain
let HIM release them

yeah right, keep dreamin'

Ow!

Rugburn is painful... even more so when it's on your forehead. Yes, you read correctly. I've got it from my hairline to my eyebrow about 1" in width.

But that's what you get... wait, I've never heard of anyone else getting rugburn on their forehead so let me clarify... that's what I get for falling off the bed.

Yup, I'm talented.