In windy rhythm
In colorful rain they
Swing between the beats.
Written for Saturday Mix. Great way to wake up my mind after a late night with restless sleep. 1st workshop is in 1 hour 36 minutes. Competition in 4 hours 36 minutes.
I’ve had words to write… But not the time. Even now I have bit 2 minutes to spare. I hope I don’t forget my words before I can write them. Why is this week insanely busy?
There are moments when being a single female living alone pulls at the smoldering ruins of my heart, placing loneliness under a spotlight. I have never been one to be afraid of snakes. but I have always had a fear of fictional and imagined horrors lurking in dark, webby basements. I rarely venture into the basement past dark, as my imagination is far more active than reality. But it seems I had yet again forgotten to get a wash load in the dryer. This was already my second time around attempting to wash it. In the poor, shadowy lighting, I could see something at the bottom of the steps that appeared rope-like. But I knew I had not dropped anything rope-like. Waiting slyly and patiently at the bottom of the steps was a 10 in skinny snake. I bent lower toward it to confirm its markings in hopes it is definitely something lacking poisonous venom. When it attempted to slither behind my folding craft table, my dream from two nights ago came back to memory. In a dank, dusky, shadowy place not too unlike my basement, I was attacked by snakes. I retreated to find a flashlight, opened the garage/basement door, and returned to collect the snake. As I said, I have never feared snakes. I have a picture of me with a boa constrictor longer than my height around my neck… and another of me hanging out at my friend’s birthday party with a smaller ball python as a necklace. But this little guy reared up and took off when I tried to pick him up. He crept through invisible spider webs that I felt when I reached for his tail. The webs made my skin crawl more than the snake. Then he coiled his tail, sat with his head up and snapped at me. This tiny guy did not want to be evicted! I grabbed a towel like fabric from the dryer and attempted to get him with that over my hand. Even if he isn’t poisonous, I don’t want a snake bite – ironically because I got super drunk off those last weekend at Ren Fest. My dream edged its way into my memories as if I were in deja vu. The snake resisted, searching desperately for a hiding place. He had better success than I did. That stupid “room” for the water heater is nothing more than a frame with a door. Apparently tiny, viscous snakes can hide very well between the wood frame and the concrete floor. The creepiest thing about this whole scenario is the dream I had about getting attacked by snakes just two nights ago… and now there is a tiny, aggressive snake slinking about my shadowy basement. It allows my imagination to run wild with “what-ifs” about basement theatrics and death sentences. Ultimately, those “what-ifs” remind me how alone I am. I mean honestly, if I got bit by a poisonous snake and succumbed to an illness or a death, nobody would notice I was gone. Nobody would notice me missing until Monday about 10:54 when I’m not there to teach my math class. Now I suppose I my OCD is making me go double check that I closed and secured that basement door… which means I may encounter my slithery house guest, or some other unruly beast that only appears in the depths of basements.
On the northern end of our continent, wildfires rage. While the southern end of the continent is under water and preparing for more. It looks like Puerto Rico was spared of the worst. But too many others haven’t been. It is so hard to watch such devastating tragedy without any ability to help.
A piece of my heart has always been in Puerto Rico. I used to tell my mom I was going to live there when I was an adult. Apparently my adulting didn’t quite fulfill thay dream.
Ironically, a piece of my heart moved there without the rest of me.
It was really hard to admit to myself that my heart still hurts after he left a year ago. I’ve never hung on to emotions or a relationship for even a fraction of the time.
Today I’m watching from the internet… From my phone as the place I love is tormented by the strongest hurricane to ever hit the Atlantic. I haven’t heard from him for about 10 months. So I’m here… Thousands of miles away… Knowing he and his children are there. But there is nothing I can do about it.
I have absolutely no control.
I won’t know, of course. I might never know. All I can do is pray… and hope they are okay.
My heart is heavy with accepting the loss of a true love and my heart is burdened with fear and concern (even if I technically have no right to have that concern anymore) for his well-being.
Photo from this article: https://www.google.com/amp/www.marketwatch.com/amp/story/guid/2E1CAA7A-92D3-11E7-AA44-01E51F3BD1EF#ampshare=http://www.marketwatch.com/story/potentially-catastrophic-hurricane-irma-makes-landfall-in-the-caribbean-2017-09-06
Autumn has arrived. Marked by falling leaves when the wind gently shakes the trees. Streaks of red and yellow are beginning to appear.
Births are happening all around us. Fall flowers bloom, pumpkins ripen, caterpillars hatch, and acorns line the trails.
Fall used to be my favorite season. This year I’m lacking excitement. I have been referring to myself as broken.
But this week I came to the conclusion I am wrong. I’m not broken. A small, valuable piece of me is missing.
2 years ago a new relationship was born. Exactly 1 year ago that relationship completely died when he left. Today I’m admitting for the first time I’ve never healed from that loss. I haven’t figured out how to completely let it go so I can move on.
Part of me doesn’t want to completely let it go. I don’t want to live as if it never happened. I want to embrace it. I want to learn from it. I want that experience to give birth to hope.
** Prompt Here **
I lack the ability to understand how the word “social” got into the term “social media.” There is absolutely nothing social about sitting at home alone looking at a computer (or cell phone or tablet) screen.
I must be the only person on the planet who feels this way. Lonely. Isolated. Never invited anywhere.
Here’s what I would imagine a conversation to be like if I were to actually hang out with one of my “friends.”
“Friend”: It’s good to see you. We never see you anymore.
Me: I never get invited anywhere and you never come when I invite you
“Friend”: That’s not true. We went out to dinner last night.
Me: oh really? Nobody invited me.
“Friend”: I posted it on facebook right before I left work yesterday.
Me: Oh I see. So I’m supposed to do nothing but stare at a computer screen all day every day just in case for some reason you happen to decide to do something and you post about it on facebook. Then I’m supposed to assume it’s an open invitation for anyone to join you? And I’m supposed to just show up at whatever random place you posted about and hope you’re there at the same time?