A Friend Request

Scott now wants to be friends on FB. We have never been friends on FB. It has certainly been his demise. It’s how I found out who Betty was, where she worked, that he was with her too when I thought he was only with me.  (And she thought he was only with her.)

Apparently it’s over with her if he is willing for me to be seen in his friends list. Wow, lucky me.  That has always been a temporary situation anyway.

All I can say is, NO. He is offering up sloppy seconds to me, again. I don’t want them. He apparently does not realize that if he were my FB friend, my son and all my friends would see it. All the people who had to watch as he reduced me to a pile of mush, and played with me, and used me. The same people who told me over and over who he was and to leave him alone. The last time I told my son that I thought he might come to our house in CT, uninvited, my son said, “Just saying Mom, if he shows up in our driveway, I will walk over to his car and punch him in the face.” He was not kidding. I told him, “no, I’ll deal with it.” He said, “Just saying Mom. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

My son is the one who had to see me reduced to a slobbering pile of sobbing mess after he did the prison whore. He also had to watch me then again, 9 months later, when I got the text that instead of us being together for the weekend, he was going to be with “someone else” (Betty) and that he was “busy and didn’t want to talk about it.”

When I saw Scott a year ago, after Betty had found out about me, my son said, “What the FUCK is the matter with you Mom? This guy made you cry more than my dad did.”

And still I talked to Scott through the move down here, on the phone, even though he was still officially with Betty, though I haven’t seen him in over a year. Until a couple months ago, when I just got so sick of the games he plays. The disappearing act he pulls, and then comes back as if it never happened. I just got so tired of being messed with.

And now he wants to be FB friends.

He had never been a friend. He has been my lover and my adversary. He has been my teacher of hard lessons, he has been a soulful connection. But he was never a friend to me. I was one to him. Every dark day that I knew about, I tried to help him. When she found out about me, and left him, (temporarily…but that’s another story) I was there for him. I loved him so dearly, more than I ever thought possible. And he used that love to bolster his own ego. To take what he could from me. And give back nothing, nothing permanent, nothing that lasts. We could easily have stayed friends. But he chose not to.

And so we are not. Not on FB, not in life. Not in any way. When I hear from him now, I feel dread, I feel a foreboding. Feel like the darkness is knocking on my door again. Do I love him, yes….always. Can I have any semblance of him in my life? Absolutely not, at least, not the way he is.

We can all change. It is hard hard work, to change and grow. If at some point he was able to convince me, look me in the eye, and tell me what he’s done, what inner work he’s done to change from being an egocentric, selfish man to someone who actually can be a friend, I might listen. I might then open the door. If he could actually apologize to me, and to my son, for his shoddy treatment of me, I might listen. But it would have to be heartfelt, sincere. I am good with words. I am intuitive. I would know the difference. He will say he has apologized to me enough. But what good is an apology when the behavior continues, unabated?

When I went through my divorce, I didn’t date for 5 or 6 years. I went inside, I learned to go deep, I learned to look at myself and forgive myself, but that also implies that I changed. And I did. I’m not angry with Scott (or my ex for that matter). I am just saying that I can’t have in my life what he has brought to it for 2 years now. (The first year, up until he did the prison whore was good with him, even after that, it was good. Then came Betty.) I have joked that he should go to the monastery for 6 months, like he often said he was going to. It’s a journey he has to take by himself. Even if I was inclined to help him, I would not. There is never real growth without real pain. There is help…but you have to seek it out. And not seek it from me. Not look to have the gaping wounds once again soothed by me so life can go on the way it has for decades.

So, I write this knowing he will read it. I don’t want to open the doors of communication with him, because it’s not safe for me. I know that somewhere inside there, I still love him as I always did, and that I would just be hurt again. I need to heal, I need distance, emotional distance to match the now physical distance I have purposefully put between us. He needs to heal too, and see himself. And acknowledge his soul and his spirit and stop feeding his ego, which is doing a good job of killing him, and hurting everyone who loves him. When he does that, when he can realize that he too is a child of God, as deserving as all of us, he’ll be able to love himself, and forgive himself, and then he’ll have something to offer the people he wants in his life.

I wish him Godspeed on that journey should he choose to undertake it.

Love and light, everyone.

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Upside Down

hanging-upside-down

Sometimes it just sets in.
No reason, no rhyme.
Just sometimes.

The world turns upside down,
And hangs me from its teeth
And I can’t breathe.

Sometimes, the longing
For what was and what wasn’t
Takes over my entire being.
I try not to remember
So I remember more.
I try hard not to feel it,
So I feel it more.

No reason,
No comprehension
Of why this happens to me.
But it does.

Misty eyed,
I crawl into a corner,
and I let it bleed.
I lick my wounds,
I close my eyes
I dream a dream
That didn’t come true.
I try to find a new dream.
I don’t.

Waiting for it to leave
As it came.
Unannounced,
Unwelcome.
Without a goodbye
or a Fare Thee Well.
Just to stop.
Just, stop the pain.

Love always, all ways.
Never ending.
I remain.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Images

Bus. Busy. Business. Omibus. Busted. Bush. Bushwacking

socs-2016-badge

This post was written for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday writing prompt, SoCS, hosted by Linda G. Hill.  If you go to this site, https://lindaghill.com/2016/09/23/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-2416/  you will get all the info should you wish to contribute.

The prompt this week was “bus”, to use as a word itself, or contained in a word. This is my attempt.

Bus. Busy. Business. Omibus. Busted. Bush. Bushwacking.

It’s been busy, of late.
Driving across country
Not in a bus.
In a car
With my son,
With my friend.

Moving.
The story of why
is an omnibus.
The reasons are varied,
And somewhat unrelated.

It’s a great thing,
To be able to just pack up and move
When and where you want.

It’s a great thing,
The business of options.
Leaving behind memories
Memories that bust my heart
Wide open.

They are not so intense here.

At times I want to recreate them.
For a moment.
For the business of longing to be abated.

That bus carries more pain in it’s cargo.
The past can’t be resurrected.
It creates the present,
And the present is different.

Some memories
I brought with me,
I never want them lost.
I never want to have to go
Bushwacking to remember
How those things felt,
Or what caused them.

Happiness runs like a bus.
Careening through the streets
Of my life.
Showing me new paths
New directions.
A new way to live.
It’s a great thing,
To be free.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Leaving

leaving

Asking for strength
To get through the next days.
Friends buoy me,
Mark my channel.
Keep me centered
Grounded,
In the flow.

Looking back at my life
Here
for so many years.
Easy to have regrets
But I balk at regrets.
Lessons, not regrets.
Things I needed to learn
To grow my soul.

In the end,
I have loved,
much more than
I have hated.
I have laughed
More than I’ve cried.
Joy has filled
What pain tried to take away.

So young when I came here
Just legal age.
I leave 44 years later
The largest part of my life behind me.
At least, of this life.
Time for change,
For the next great adventure.

Love and light.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Images

Haiku No. 173: Where Light Cannot Reach (8 Parts)

where-light-cannot-see

You were ev’rything
To me. Sun, moon, heat, light and
Shadow. Also that.

Where light could not reach
You crept, with distorted truth
Filling the dark space.

Dazzling me, like light
I could not discern, at first.
I dreamed it was real.

You laughed, suffusing
Darkness disguised with strange glow
Sorrowful aching.

It’s taken me time
To eradicate your gloom
You’re strong in your fear.

But only light can
destroy the darkness, so go.
You can’t hurt me now.

You also can’t change
My belief in love’s power.
Still, I can see you.

Love needs no reason
to be unconditional.
Always, and all ways.

Colors of Transformation

rainbow-leaves

I loved in the fall
And my heart was broken.
I healed through the winter and the spring.
Summer came,
With its heat and its memories,
Wrapping it hot sweaty arms around me
Reminding me of the summer of passion,
the summer before.

This fall is full of transformation.
My life transformed,
Barely recognizable.
As if the maple tree turned purple
Instead of deep brilliant red
Like the blood coursing through veins
Older, and wiser
The old pain is old hat,
Insignificant.

Love, love will always be.
The colors of the leaves
Are the colors of the rainbow.
The colors of love
Remain the most brilliant.
The cacophony of color
Announces the transformation of life.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Imges.