Connection Lost (or Mercury in retrograde keeps messing with me.)

Words get said,
Misunderstood.
Requests get made,
Offense taken.
Predictions made,
Never happen.
Emotions run high
Connections are lost.
Computer goes on,
Has to reboot.
Phone messages
Lost, late.
Never acknowledged.
Connections lost.

Sunset comes,
With thunderstorm.
Sunrise comes,
Fog rolls in.
Day passes in between.
Connection anticipated,
But connection lost.

Someone calls,
They’re angry.
Someone smiles,
They are unaware.
Connection lost.

Shaken up,
Everything is new.
Inquiry keeps me sane.
The point is not to change
But to re-evaluate.
What is real?
What is illusion?
Connection lost.

Empty questions
Empty answers.
Upside Down
Inside Out.
Connection lost.

Reality Check

Reality is the conjectured state of things as they actually exist, rather than as they may appear or might be imagined. In a wider definition, reality includes everything that is and has been, whether or not it is observable or comprehensible. – Wikipedia

Image result for reality

Trying to sort through memories, dreams, visions, events, people who came and left in the last year.  How much of it was real?  How much of it was conjecture on my part?

What was real, aside from putting my head on my own pillow at night, by myself.  The chaotic energy of my son in the house. The morning meditations.  The mundane household tasks.

How much of love was real?  How much of the passion was real?  How much of it was just created.  Just me trying so hard to get what I wanted.

So…how much of the ugly was real?  If the love maybe wasn’t completely real, maybe all the ugly wasn’t either.

I’ve been reading Byron Katie’s books on The Work.  The four questions….

1. Is it true?  2. Can you know absolutely that it’s true? 3. How do you react, how do you feel, when you think that thought? 4. Who would you be without that thought?

Answers:  1. I don’t know.  I thought so, but maybe not. 2. No. No. NO.  3. I am emotional.  4. Relaxed, happy, non-judgmental.

I don’t know what was real, and what wasn’t.  But I do know this.

Love never hurts. It never makes you feel bad about yourself. It never makes you insecure.  If it’s doing that 75% of the time, and bringing you joy 25% of the time, it’s not love.  Especially, when you’re the only one whose thinking it is.

Well….whether or not it was love isn’t really important now, because the love, if that’s what it was, is gone.  Poof!  In a big cloud of epithets cast for reasons not fully understood, it’s gone.

I think though,  it’s floating around in the universe, waiting to come back where it’s real.

Change and Connection

I sat outside last night for a few minutes before I went to bed. I was tired, I have been sleeping poorly, as I guess could be expected from the events of the weekend. I hadn’t talked to S for most of the day. I gazed at the half moon, with thin clouds racing by it.  Sitting out there, I could feel S’s sadness. I knew he was at his home, 50 miles away, and feeling bad. I messaged him, and my intuition, that connection we have, was right.

I know he just doesn’t get it, why I just can’t do it anymore, why things can’t stay as they were for me.

The only thing that is permanent, is change.

My emotions of the last week, maybe 2, have been more and more to separate our lives, to end this relationship that never could get off the ground. I look at him, and I love him in that unconditional way. I accept who he is, I accept the direction he has wanted to take. He is the one who has come to me in times when he’s been introspective, to tell me he needs to be on his own, he needs to find out who he is by himself, without being attached to someone.

I totally support that.  I can’t imagine being this age and not knowing what I want.  I have told him to do it, to keep me in the loop if he wants.  I have told him I’m not going anywhere right now.  No one can forsee the future. But if we keep the communication open, we can remain friends, and honor the connection that I find rather exceptional.  It doesn’t mean that we have to be intimate, it means that we can remain close friends, if he wants to.

Right now, we want different things.  Neither of us can cross over to the other side, not and remain true to ourselves.

I know…that in the end, he knows that, he will get it, that we want such different lives. At least, that’s how it seems to me. Since he doesn’t know what he wants, I guess I can’t speak for him. But I certainly want something different from the relationship I have had had with him, than he wants.

I think it’s just hard to be single at this age. I don’t think anyone makes it to being single in their 60’s and doesn’t have baggage, even though I have seen profiles of men who say they don’t. They do, they have just buried it. I’ve tried to let mine bubble up and deal with it when it does. It’s not always easy. Like I told S, early in our relationship, he was the first man in my life since my marriage, and even though I thought I took plenty of time to be aware of my baggage, my triggers, there are some you don’t even know about until you are in a relationship. And lucky him…he got to experience those.

Don’t worry, he had plenty of his own, to pay me back, lol.

But the fact remains….I’m ready to move past friendship. I’m ready for someone to love me, the way I loved him. I’m using past tense, because I feel like there’s no way back. It will take time for those emotions to ebb to the actual flow of the events.

It was fun, for awhile. But since I came back from Florida in March, when he came to my house and came as close to saying he loved me as he ever would, it’s been work. The enthusiasm is gone, the desire to just hang out isn’t there. For him it’s backed off to wanting an occasional “nice afternoon”. For me, it’s progressed to “I would have liked to spend Saturday night until Monday night with you this weekend.”

How’s that ever going to work?

It’s not. And I’m OK with it. I really am. Enough water has passed over the dam that my grip has loosened, I am not holding on any longer. I’m sure S’s grip is also loose, he maybe isn’t as clear on why as me, I hope he gains that clarity.

I hope we remain friends. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I wish him love and light. Always.

Sliding Away

Slowly I step

From rock to rock

Across the stepping stones

Covered with moss.

The rocks are like a well laid trap

Unable to see which are stable, and which are not

I slip into the cold murky water.

I try to claw my way back.

trying to hold on

To the thin little reeds

that are all the connection there is

to keep me from going under.

What is left?

Every time I grasp a reed

It pulls out

It’s roots are shallow

I slip a little farther away.

Soon…all connection to where I was

Has been uprooted

by me

Trying to hold on.

And so, without a movement, or an intention

I have let go

Because there was nothing to keep me there.

No hand reached for mine.

No voice called me back.

No memory guided me

Back to where I had come from.

I slide away,

away from the stepping stones that would have led me to the other side.

Away from the place I knew and loved.

I guess sometimes we are just meant to move on.