Working Out Sleeplessness

I see my old friend Pat sleeping on my couch, in deep sleep and I think how nice it would be, to be able to just sleep anywhere. She’s one of those people who can. My mom used to be able to do that. My mother-in-law fell asleep at an NHL hockey game once. You know it was not quiet there, lol.

I went right to sleep last night, and well I should have. 3 hours sleep the night before, 2 rum and cokes at the restaurant, and we had a little smoke when we got home. I slept for a couple of hours, and then woke up, and of course, couldn’t get back to sleep. It’s getting old, this not sleeping thing. I had taken a full Ambien, just to make sure I slept, but there you go. So at 1 AM I took a Benedryl. That’s ridiculous I know. I am aghast at myself for putting so much crap in my body, but I am craving sleep and it is just evading me.

Lately when I’m like this I have to get up and write. Stream of consciousness…just let out whatever it is. Last night I felt very comfortable with my friends sleeping here. I was not overstimulated. When I went to bed I was only looking forward to climbing in between my sheets in that bed I love. But there I was, awake at 1:30 AM.

I picked up my laptop, opened it up and began to write.

What came out was, all the tentative hope I had for this relationship with Tim. He sent me an email this morning. Telling me about his night, and that he can’t wait to see me. Not gushing, just loving. He included a poem, I don’t know if he wrote it. I don’t think so, it was in quotes but the author not id’d.

I also realized that I still miss things about S, which I wish I didn’t. But that is always overridden now with his ability to play games with me and others, and the way I am always the big loser with him, that there is nothing to be gained from him. I guess when you love someone you always love some parts of them. The funny, smart, sexy parts. But they aren’t worth the brokenness, the chaos, the confusion.

I know where I stand with Tim, and it is so reassuring. I also am physically attracted to him, and that too is reassuring to me that we can get to that place eventually. He’s not overbearing, but likes to stay in touch. He’s not demanding, but expresses himself. He is not afraid to put his arm around me, he is not afraid to take my hand and talk to me seriously. He is not overly demonstrative, but is demonstrative. And he’s also smart, and has an artsy side. He loved his wife, who died after a 7 year battle of cancer. He was her caregiver all that time. And happy for the job.

What do I not like about him? Well, he has a drawl, lol, and my mind always clicks to a redneck when I hear a drawl. But he’s so not. He is so much an aging hippie like me, even though he’s an ex-firefighter, and ex-cop.

So, I have hope that this will go somewhere. He’s a really good man. I am cautious, too cautious with him. Like I should have been with S, and wasn’t, jumping in with both feet. I resolved not to do that again. To let things grow, to fill the marble jar, before giving myself over completely. S would always put 5 marbles in the jar, and then dump it over and just watch the marbles roll out. It’s just too hard to retrieve yourself, when someone breaks your heart. Jumping in set me up for heartbreak over and over again. I can’t imagine Tim willfully breaking my heart. Nor me his. I’ve broken a man’s heart before, but not willfully. It was just that I could not match his emotions for me. That man was needy, and I am so not. I love to be in love, but not with just anyone.

So that dichotomy, between the two men, that chaotic jumble of emotions, is what was keeping me up. Tomorrow Tim and I will go manatee watching, sunset watching and really see if we connect. I’m looking forward to the growth of the seed that’s been planted.

Love and light to all.

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Foolishness

To love beyond reason
Is kind of foolish,
She thought.
Though she had loved him like that
Forever.

There was no gain
Ever, in loving him,
Except
The joy that comes from having
A heart that’s full.

There was some game
To be played
But she could never
Understand the rules.
She never played it right.

She wasn’t a player
She was a lover.
Waiting
For a sign
That the game had ended.

But he disappeared.
His disappearance filled the void
Where once he lay
Beside her.
Now she wondered if he was real.

Were they, he and she, real
In the time-outs between rounds,
When playing stopped momentarily?
What was there?
Nothing? Or something?

There were times she grew weary
Of the game.
Times she said,
Go. I can’t play this game
Anymore.

Her heart aches still.
She waits for answers
As yet unspoken.
So she moves on,
And tries to love again.