Splashing cool water on my face so thankful I did not cry last night as that results in my eyes swollen as if every tear decided to stay behind my eyes instead of falling. Looking up into the mirror the good angel that rests on my ego left whispers," how long do you think you can keep living like this and it not show on your face darling?" Closing my eyes into the soft green towel a rush of memories flash a rapid fire of events from the last four years. Zoom there goes my leaving Florida hurting my family, zooming I view my husbands death news. Final view zips past my house in Florida left behind for me to never see again I see the lake almost feel the heat. Pulling the towel from my face I answer myself " at what point do I not comprehend I am alone with all my life choices?"
Living the lost weekend every weekend sitting down to write this in my tiny loft with everything I wanted the bed needs to be made, tea is ready.
Memories can be the burden and the excuse.
I remember one early summer day the mist still hanging in the air gave the opportunity for the rising sun to show each detail of the spider webs that enclosed the entire exclusive neighborhood. I drove through the horror movie setting slowly coming home from the night shift at hospital gripping the steering wheel, "this has become my life a huge spider web and I am the food for my husbands life lust". An animal in the wild will chew its own foot off to escape a trap, as I pulled into the driveway of our new home huge spiders hung on garage door. I put my head down on the steering wheel cursing myself for creating this real life horror show, I had to get out or I would be eaten alive.
That is how I remember my Florida home.
There are some aspects of living alone that I have come to appreciate like only buying the food I like and very little dishes. I am to be naked in my loft curtains closed of course as I am very comfortable minus the constriction of fashion. My loft is a mixture of colors and styles I refuse to buy anything expensive saving my money for film work.
I find myself pulling away from my work in comedy although my writing is in full blast zone gotta gotta get it down completion. My film work and videos consume most of my free thinking and I was again at club Exchange shooting pictures of the show. I love the drive of the music with the lights pulsing the beat I am transfixed as I watch the colors dance above the crowd.
My private life is sheltered by my need to have that space just to create as I drop men like some fat people drop food wrappers, there is always another. I refuse their needs as I have my own, and that is always interesting as they cry battling me to reconsider. I look at them and mumble " I never promised you anything nor we were anything more than this" and that sends them over the top. I resent the implication that I was less than honest and remind them of my exact verbiage . One would think people could not argue facts but indeed they swat those little pieces of juicy fruit life fillers away insisting all we shared was in fact a relationship.
Sometimes I think about the book " Looking for Mr GoodBar" and then nope it does not apply to me but still her hunt for the good lay could be found in my life crushing other's hopes?
Other times I think about the book " Dragonriders of Pern" and how I fucking wish a giant dragon would bond with me and we could fly the city skyline giving life the naughty finger.
I look down at Sparky the feral pussy who insists on sharing my writing chair he is now huge and still wild in many ways. I appreciate that and laugh at he bites at people's feet . Sparky cuddles next to me and sleeps well we all need contact and love.
Seeing a guy who is pointless and that my darlings is perfectly worthwhile and i don't care about his life or his goals. Where does he live? I haven't a clue as we meet at a concert in the VIP area his light blue eyes taking me in, and it goes from there.
Indifference taste like a kiss full of tears.
People see and hear what they want.
Excuses are like a twinkie not fully full of the sweet cream center, dry.
The gloves snap as my friend pulls back from examining my love canal stating " everything looks great Bonnielynn so tell me how's the sex?" Closing my legs and pulling myself up I giggle " not really there yet " I hate that damn paper gown it's so medical. We have been friends since first meeting when I was a bubbling crying idiot widow, she took me under her wing. I like that she tells me straight I need that more than any medicine as I respond to the realness of factual.
So bring it hard clear.
Last years cancer scare was a mad hatters ride into possible death and what is really frightening is that I at times welcomed the possibility.
My doctor friend places the obtained samples into her lab container, " so how about lunch next week?" I nod sitting there with my chin in my hand leaning forward. She spins the swivel chair to face me " what's up kid?" oh I have to answer this ?
She continues " you know it's ok to go out and have sex there is no crime in that Bonnielynn find a great guy and just do him " I nod this is getting weird.
Sex sign on the dotted line.
I look at my friend who had gone through a divorce last year and I asked " and what about you any Blessings?" laughing she nodded ," Bonnielynn I remember being that person who just had to be married to have a life everyone said I should have . Now I am divorced and no way would I get married again. So yes I just enjoy a few special guys using protection of course", there it is she threw in the safe sex lecture while explaining herself, props.
Moisture is wet.
I just look at her nodding, like how do I explain any of the stupid life I have created? She knows but I don't want to talk with her about it anymore or with anyone for that matter. I am tired of my own story.
Tea and toast.
Can one cheat on love that never happened and never will?
See I can clearly define weird and own it .
I see myself ice skating in my hand me down shared with elder sister cause it was my turn to skate. My little girls feet enclosed in plastic bread bags to keep them dry because wet can mean frozen toes.
No fun in that peapod frozen toe delight.
I spin on my toes raising my hands that have socks for mittens and look up at the stars in the Michigan winter sky, my breath floats around the cold dark night . I think that is a Peter Pan sky and happiness was mine right there in that moment and I often think on it.
Time to come in Bonnielynn.
My mother pulls the near frozen ice skates off my feet " Bonnie girl I told you to come in! Why do you not mind me girl? " pulling the socks and bread bag off my feet that are pale white with frozen tip of my toes. She rubs them between her warm hands ," Bonnielynn your feet are ice!" I nodded thinking the ice was great tonight. How could I tell her I was Peter Pan soaring across the stars looking for never never going to find land? She placed my feet in a warm bucket of water giving me hot tea. Grand Mary's voice joins in "leave the girl alone if she had fun let her be her feet will be fine". Every kid should have a Grand Mary who say the purposefulness of play dance fun. That sometimes fun is worth the pain resulted.
Sitting at my desk writing the tall blue eyed danger got up from the couch to pull me away from my work kissing the length of my neck. His hands are rough and he smiles with his eyes a talent not lost on me and let those hands roam. Picking me up to have me sit on his lap like a little girl he pulls off my robe sighing, " there it is that body" time slips into letting him as I enjoy.
Play fun is fun fun times.
He stands as I take in his body thinking not much just eye dancing around the body candy. Pulling on his shirt ," I want to introduce you to my friends Bonnielynn and Halloween is our time right?" I nod just enjoying how my body feels.
Please stop talking.
I want to go away for Halloween weekend and I still might.
Back in my friends doctors exam room I tell her about the blue eyed danger and she laughs " about freaking time girlfriend get out there and live" I don't tell her that he means very little to me and I want to ask " is this being a grown up ? this detachment?" She stands to exit "remember next week lunch we will really talk call me later if you want to go out for drinks" I laugh my yes.
My friends are perfect, I am not.
So many aspects in this grown up life.
Too late to ask for refund.
The ghost are quiet.
He wrote ," You think you mattered more than you did and it did not matter to me. I fucking hate you and stay out of my shit"
The lies of a stalker.
I discovered he had been undercover fake follower with me for how long?
Yes Alice the rabbit hole is just around the corner.
His hatred clearly detailed and not unbelievable .
I consider that.
I am confused ? If he had everything he needs? Why be with me?
I am sure I am not the crazy one.
But wait there is more.
I do not trust the life I have made if people are not real ? What is real?
His anger full throttle as if I had been the one?
I think " go back to your wife the one you married right? Remember her?" and I want to vomit as the seas become a storm of untruths.
I cry into a voicethread all the pain of the past year, yep over a half hour of my sobs. I know how to be sexy never doubt it.
What? Where? and why mother pucker just why?
He writes about his drug use and drinking as if it was vitamins and cherries.
Talking around me and not to me.
Sub tweeting not to ME he states there are others " dumbshits just like you" I nod but he cannot see that as it is the internet.
Weird gets weirder .
So I am letting go moving on but I don't know what course to sail I feel like the air will not support any direction at all.
His hatred clear like heat of fire and it burns me as I accept it all like a donkey hitched to a huge bundle that raises the front legs into the air.
I don't tell anyone.
I think what more do I have to suffer ? Is not leaving ME alone an impossibility?
His anger from my lifting the blanket on his secret life internet fun circus ride.
I never agreed to it why should I be a part of his lies to his wife?
Never make a promise you cannot keep.
Ties that bind are like a robe burn.
This ride is no longer fun.
I drank champagne last night like a drowning person, I gulped till i was dizzy felt the room spin the colors blended . If he drinks should I find out what the fun is about? I felt my head spin and knew I had to go home before I fell down and that is not attractive . I headed out of the club people talking to me waving "hello there Bonnielynn" yes hello I waved and hurried to the exit to flag a cab. Entering my loft I stripped off my clothes crashed on to the soft bed waking with a sick feeling.
There goes the day.
I splashed my face brushing my teeth thinking about the drinks last night. I feel sick and the room spins I go to make coffee Sparky needs to be fed.
There needs to be an end before the start.
I think this is how it starts and all I have worked for will be lost if this behaviour continues and that is the aspirin that clears my head.
I was off twitter for a random mistake but I blamed him and why not?
He carries every hurt and disappointment in my heart so why not?
He says he is patient and I think he is cruel.
He calls me bad names and I do the volley back.
This is not who I am and I am allowing this into my thought process.
Sipping my tea.
I sit down to write and soon I will feel better.
Twitter was all I had when I had nothing
I cannot take any more of his hate.
I cannot take any more of my need for this half life I started.
He blames me.
I do too.
Writers write .