I’m reading The Gift of Change by Marianne Williamson.  I just read something, actually from A Course In Miracles, that absolutely resonated with me.

I have always said that I always saw Scotts soul. I never saw his human frailty.  I said this in my blog “The Story In His Eyes” republished a few days ago. 

When I’ve said I miss him, that’s the “him” that I miss.  

A Course In Miracles tries to teach us that we are all children of God. We are all connected inextricably to each other.  Created by God, all created of the same stuff. 

What I just read that resonated was paraphrasing the Course.

 “if you are as God created you, then no mistakes you’ve ever made or anyone’s judgments or negative opinions about you can in anyway determine who you are or change your value.”

Yes.  Exactly.  You ARE as God created you. Every last one of us. Even you Scott. Believe it.  I could see it, so clearly.  And that’s the part of him, and everyone, that I love. That’s the person I miss. 

Let THAT person be. Just let him be. It’s just so wild, as Cheryl Strayed says, just so WILD to just let it be.  

There is nothing necessary to do. Just acknowledge snd accept and change, knowing you belong to the whole and there’s nothing to prove. Just let it be.  

Love never dies. 

I guess I was overtired last night.  I took an Ambien to sleep, and ended up taking another half in the middle of the night.  Now I’m supposed to go to work on 2 1/2 hours of sleep.  Not sure I can do it this morning.  Considering calling out.

I have so much to do to get ready to move, it is overwhelming.  Sell some of my furniture, sort through tons of stuff and figure out what’s worth keeping, make a bunch of dump runs.  And work.

I’m glad at least, that I had it together enough to make my son and I a nice dinner last night.  At least my nutrition is good.  I had low blood sugar this morning.  I think I overcompensated for not having the one med that the pharmacy didn’t give me.  Another reason not to skip work, I need to go get that med today.  But I’m so tired.  I don’t think I can drink enough coffee to wake me up.

It’s supposed to rain all week.  They show some sun on some days, but rain every day.  How depressing.  And my lawn needs mowing and if it rains all week, it’s going to be a real mess by next weekend.

Boy I sound depressed today.  I think I’ll go get in the shower and see if I can change my attitude, lol.

You all have a good day.  Love and light.

So I got my house in perfect running order. It has never been so clean. I left the house at 11:15, they were due for the showing at 11:30. I went with a friend to the mall, to help her look for a dress for a wedding. I got a push alert, saying there was feedback on my house. So I excitedly clicked on the app, and looked to see what they said. Did they notice that the lawn needed cutting? Did they notice that the weeds on the patio have started coming up again, because I haven’t had a chance to get the spray to kill them?

No……

The realtor couldn’t get the lock box unlocked, so they didn’t show the house!!!!!! WTF? Don’t they hold a class for the realtors in unlocking a lock box? It’s a digital combination.

So, I busted my ass all weekend and they didn’t show. They said they would like to reschedule. I messaged my realtor, she said, yes, this guy is older and always has trouble with the lock boxes. If she’d known, she lives across the street. She probably could have come over and opened it for him. Frustrating. I told her to reschedule them and I’ll leave the door open.  And I am so beat.

Still have this lower GI thing going on. It’s better, but it’s still a pain. It just wears me out.

My son has become a huge fan of the show Game of Thrones. Enough that he wants to come up out of the cave to watch it on the big TV every Sunday night now. Which is kind of cool. I can’t figure out what the heck is going on in it, but I have kind of attempted, just because he’s so into it. It’s on in 20 minutes. But tonight, I may not make it through more than 15 minutes or so.

I just watched an ad for the reality show Sister Wives. The husband, in the ad, who has 5 wives, is accusing one of the wives of having an affair. LMAO. He’s fucking 5 women, and gets mad at her for finding one other man. WTF. How does anyone take that seriously? And she’s upset at being accused. But she doesn’t mind that he has 4 other wives that he beds down regularly.

I guess we all know, or at least a bunch of us know, men who would love that arrangement. Scott used to tell me he’d like to have a different woman every day. (of course, then he’s say, oh Deb, that’s just a fantasy.) Well, he tried, lol, to at least alternate women. It worked for him. Not for the women he fucked and fucked over though.

If my language is too vulgar, I apologize. Sometimes there is no other word that works. It’s not that I have no other words, lol. I have way too many I’ve been told. But the F-word is the only one that fits in this situation. It was fucking, pure and simple. Pure selfish pleasure for him. With both of us. Oh he’d like to deny it now, but it’s easier to deny that he ever told me he cared for me. Much easier than saying he didn’t care for either of us, but that’s the truth. He cared for Scott. He’s not capable of real change. Proven by his attempts to rewrite history, rather than be accountable for his actions. I was there, and I remember. The things he said to me are burned into my memory. His callousness, thoughtlessness, toward me, after what he did to me is really beyond the pale of human decency.

Whatever. Tonight I’m ok with my past. I have no regrets. I can live with my behavior, my actions. I have not shamed myself in anyway.  He has to live with his own actions, and how he does that is none of my business.  Soon I’ll be a long ways away, and hopefully this sordid chapter of my life will fade into the past.

It still astonishes me that I can miss that man. But I can. Sometimes. For a little while. Til I remember.

Maybe I just miss the sex, lol.

Love and light all.

I have my first showing of my house tomorrow!  I was on the phone bitching to a friend that I’d had no showings and when I got off the phone, there was a push notification that I had an appointment request for 11:30 tomorrow.  So I went into mad cleaning woman mode, and vacuumed and mopped my son’s floor in the basement.  The rest of the house is pretty much as it was for the pictures, so I can finish in the morning.  I’m relieved, I was upset that we’d not had any showings.  Zillow is estimating the value of my house at $25,000 more than I’m asking, so I hope that’s an incentive!

I went out for a bite to eat with my friend tonight. It was nice to just get out of the house.  I didn’t have any alcohol.  I’m just afraid to drink with this crazy stomach bug I have.  It’s for that reason I didn’t go to my bff’s bonfire tonight.  The drinks flow freely there, and I didn’t want to have to explain to everyone why I wasn’t indulging.  Plus it was outdoors and it’s quite chilly tonight and I don’t feel like sitting around outside, not when I haven’t been well.

And then….on the way up to my friends tonight I saw a sundog.  A single one, but a good long part of the rainbow aura, and the bright spot, to the right of the sun.  Sundogs have always foretold good things happening for me.  My personal sign of good luck.

Well, off to get a good night’s sleep.  I’ll need to start early tomorrow.

Love and light….

Soneone read this old post this morning, it shows in my stats. It seems odd, it’s only had 10 views since I wrote it.  I wrote it last summer, when Scott was purportedly at his sisters, a story which I don’t believe now. I had carpal tunnel surgery and I think he just made up the story about going to see her so I wouldn’t feel bad he didn’t come to see me because he was with Betty. 

Writing this with one hand in a soft cast.  He had told me the night before that he was a fucking asshole and I should leave him alone. I asked if he had fucked someone to which he answered “NOOOOO”.  

And we all know what a lie that was. 

But I figured he was having a hard time at his sisters because their relationship was strained.  So I wrote this to try to buoy his spirits.  

While he was fucking Betty. 

I am sometimes taken aback at the way I loved him, and what he was doing to me. I was such a fool. It strains me.  

The Story In His Eyes 

I know an old soul. He gazes at me, at the sea, at the night sky, knowing all of us, all these things, in days past. Days long gone, eons before.

He knows that he knows these things. He never speaks of them. He is not even sure why he knows, only that he has loved someone a century or two ago. That he traveled the high seas guided only by the stars. He understands bits of languages he never learned, and finds solace on an empty winter beach.

No one knows how ancient his soul is,

No one, except me.

How do I know?

I know because his soul and mine reached for each other, through the humanness that would deny his soul’s age. We may separate for a few days, even at times a few weeks. Then one of us will reach out, one of us will call the others name. Because we knew each other then, and we found each other now.

Maybe.

I know, because he understands me, without being told who I am. Even though I have an incessant need to tell him.

I used to say to him, “I see you. Underneath it all, I see you.” He said, “did you ever think that maybe you see me because I choose to reveal myself to you?”

Perhaps.

It could be the reason. Perhaps what I arrogantly thought was my ability to perceive who he really is, was only because he allowed me to look in.

In which case, I am grateful, and honored.

He understands the way it works better than I do, I think. Except perhaps the idea of unconditional love. His humanness finds that concept to be pleasant, but rare.

Mostly I know, because when I catch him unaware of my gaze, I can see the depths of the sea, and of life, in his clear, smiling (usually) blue eyes.

When I ask him, “Do you think we knew each other before? Do you think we agreed as souls to meet up in this lifetime?” He answers, “I don’t know. And we won’t know til this lifetime is over, will we?” And he smiles, usually, laughing at me and my insatiable desire to know what happened before, and what happens after.

I still think he knows….His blue eyes tell me the story, when I get the chance to see them, gazing out to sea, or under the night sky.