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.

Dawn’s Silent Song

dawns-song

There is only the silence of the dawn
Singing gently in my ears.
Singing a song that takes me back
To sweet, and sad, memories,
Early morning coffee and conversation
Wrapped in snugly blankets
To keep winter’s cold off bare skin.

Dawn’s same song says there’s more to come
Different, but loving
Unsure, but hopeful
Sweetness, without the sadness.
A chance to love again.

Sing the song, beautiful dawn.
Lead me to that place of knowing
Help me to find joy from within
And a true lover to share it with.

Life Without My Stuff

(I had such a hard time titling this post.  I kept wanting to call it Breaking My Life Into Pieces but thought that sounded too much like a sad love affair, and I’ve surely written enough of those, lol.  Athough the emotion is not dissimilar, strangely.  Big change comes hard, most times, whether it’s a love affair, your kid moving out, or you moving away.  There is always some degree of loss, and some degree of gain.)

The people who bought my deck furniture two weeks ago finally came back and got it last night. The wife is very excited to have it, which makes me feel good. But now, I can’t sit outside in the morning and write and have my coffee and listen to the birds and feel the cool morning air because there is no place to sit. I can’t even take a chair from my kitchen table out because I sold the kitchen table.

It feels like watching my life get broken into pieces and sold off, or given away. I was able to schedule the Salvation Army to come pick up my son’s couches on Sept 12. I’ll give them a bunch of other stuff that I have that’s in decent shape. I have to call a guy whose name a friend gave me, to take a bunch of stuff to the dump for me. I have a large collection of half burned candles I want to give away….Good Yankee candles for the most part. But I think I’ll have to throw them out.

I never thought I was attached to things. Really. My ex is attached to things, he can’t let go of anything even when it drags him under. I’m not attached like that, I can divest myself of what I don’t want to take with me, but it is harder than I expected to walk through my house without all the stuff that is normally there, just part of my life. I am a bit shaken by it.

I’ll be glad in a few weeks, when I can start putting it back in a place I want it, in Florida. When I can again have my house with my stuff, and feel like, yeah, it’s my house when I come through the door. Right now, even my bedroom is beginning to look strange to me. The nightstands almost cleared off, the closet with nothing in it except shoes, and my summer clothes. Drawers have been emptied out.

I’m making lists of what has to be done yet. Call the insurance co, call the utilities, call the cable company, call the garbage pick up. I wish honestly I’d quit working last Friday. I just have so much to do before I take off for Denver.

Which is another stressor altogether. I should be down about 10 lbs by the time this is over. I know my friend, my bff, is planning a goodbye party of some kind when I get back from Denver. She invited me to dinner the 9th. But I KNOW her. Besides her nephew said to me last time I saw him, “Well, we are having that party for you anyway, right?” LOL. Gave it away, lol. But I’m not telling her, I will fake it and be surprised. That will be nice, really, to see everyone one last time before I go.

I’m sure my blogs are getting kind of boring, just about the stress, and the angst, and things I have to do to accomplish this. Let me say it is WAY more stress than leaving my ex-husband was. For one thing, I was running full-tilt boogie from a life that was killing me, literally. I couldn’t wait to get out of the pressure-cooker of that house, away from him and his lying power trip. I couldn’t wait to live somewhere where I could wake up and everything was the same as when I went to bed. I didn’t take much with me, and I was going a mile and a half away.

This move…the life I have here is wonderful, and I don’t particularly want to leave it. I just want to stop working and I can’t, and live here. And I am sick to death of winter. It’s so difficult when you are on your own, and have to deal with all the snow, and cold and heating bills by yourself. I’m sick of driving to work and/or home in snow, shoveling my car off, getting snow in my shoes, when I leave work. But mostly sick of having to go to work anyway, lol.

My life….I’m just blessed. My son and I are happy sharing the same space while we both have our own lives. I have a ton of friends, so I’m not usually alone unless I choose to be. But I can’t keep this house if I don’t work, and I don’t want to work, so off I go to my mortgage free bungalow in Florida. It will all be good, but the transition is difficult, really difficult.

Time to get this day underway. Love and light, all.

Awaiting Rebirth

free falling

Free falling
Can’t find the ripcord.
Headed straight for a fall
A hard,
bone-breaking,
Spirit shattering,
Intersection with reality.

Oh God, that I could change it
That my parachute would appear,
And carry me safely on the wind
To land softly, on my feet.

Prayers rise,
As I fall
Unable to stop the momentum
Unable to grasp
What I reach for.

How does one
Overcome
A fall to earth
Destined to hurt,
Seemingly unavoidable?

If only there were arms to catch me
To soften the ache
That grows larger
As I grow closer to
The impact.

It is total ruin
Of my psyche.
I know not
How to breathe,
Or laugh,
Or cry,
Or feel.

I am dying
Every second it comes closer.

If ruin is the road to transformation.
Into what will I transform?

This pile of skin and bones
Head and heart.
Somewhere,
Among the broken, scattered, pieces of myself
Lies my soul.

Awaiting rebirth.

ribirth.jpg

By Deborah E. Dayen

Pictures from Google Images.