Blocked-- and still writing

I wrote those words yeasterday as part of a release. Today I blocked him from getting in touch with me.

I feel sick.

Sick, but good sick. Like the feeling right before the rollercoaster goes down the hill. Good. Empty. With nothing to fill up the space. And being with the nothing to fill up the space.

He wouldn't reach out, not even if I wanted him to. Because goodbye happened months ago. On my couch, in each others arms, me crying, things have changed, things are going to keep changing, and even though I choose the change, I don't choose the feeling of emptiness. Or any of the feelings that go along with it.

So what am I filling up my space with.....

I started doing body work-- working through a lot of the issues as they come up, with an awesome man. With him I feel safe, and it's a structured environment. It's not quite massage, not quite polarity therapy, but something in-between. And I walk out of there feeling released and comfortable in my body, in myself. Feeling like I am totally relaxed. Doing my best to not feel an attraction to him, to not get into that pattern. Male attention, any male attention ends up being uncomfortable, and then working with someone who has me feel safe, it's like "Wow, I've found it".

I must remember that the someone out there isn't waiting to be found. The nameless faceless man and me are not lost. There is no finding. It's all discovery. And just because there is some kind of exchange and release, it does not constitute a relationship, a crush, or anything else of the sort. Not that it wouldn't be welcomed, but then I keep pulling myself out of the moment. Just opening my heart a little doesn't mean that I have to close it again. Just keep opening.

Okay, that's it for now. It's Christmas, I have on a new flannel nightie, my house is clean, and I feel great. I loved spending time with the family, I loved all my gifts (new socks, yipee, no really, yipee), and spoke to loved ones and such. I have an amazing life. I must remember that when the valleys get too low.

Peace.

Kim

Keep hanging on

AS I begin to write I think that there is not much to say, but so much.

Here goes:

Hanging on to memories, to days faded away, to the things I thought you said, the things you didn't say.
Wistful.
What could have been.
What was never to be.

The release doesn't feel real.
Last words spoken are forgotten.
Except goodbye.
Except goodbye.

Goodbye forever.
You weigh on my mind still.
Thoughts of you
dragged around in a little toy wagon.
Discarded notes, backs of envelopes
to someone else they are trash.
To me, that's all I have.

Everything clings to me
I'm a magnet.

I keep cleaning out the things
the memories
the visual reminders.
My body remembers everything about you.
My body rejects it slowly.
A wound that is slow to heal.

I'm in a different space now
but really it's more of the same.
I keep telling myself that tommorrow
tommorrow, tommorrow
this will get better.
That I will go on, not investigating what you are up to
who you are with, and what you are doing.
That I will not build pieces of you into a story
as if I am still in your life
as if I am still someone who matters to you.

Do I?
but really it isn't important.
but do i? Am I?

these are the constant questions.... am i?

Am I enough
am I too much
am i pretty, witty, wise and loving.
am I here for you
when I am not here for myself
and how ashamed I am of that.
How ashamed I am.

I've turned you into a brilliant cocktail story
replete with a punchline that supports my work.
you were more than that. so much more.

my eyes darken
my mouth turns up in the corner.
I haven't looked at myself in years,
really looked at myself.
I didn't need to, you did it for me.
You tried to do it all for me, I wanted to share that responsibility.
I wanted to take away your responsibility to the world.
it wasn't to be.

Sad.
Alone.
Lonely and confused. Filled with love, but it's emptiness too.
Trying, but no try, only do.
Okay, so thinking about what's next.
How about what's now. What is now.
Now is filled with smoke
a haze, a fog.
my knees hurt, my heart hurts.
my skin is dry and I never drink enough water.
I never drink enough water.

It takes all I have to go
carry this burden
hold it up, throw it on the table every day and say
"In spite of this, I am worth it"
when all I feel is the weight.
When all I feel is that toy wagon
shiny and red
following me around wherever I go.
wherever I go.

I could destroy you
I have that power.
That power scares me.
I will not.

I'll keep hanging on.
I'll keep hanging on.
Happiness is so close, I can taste it in each bite, and then it floats away.
I keep putting it in my mouth to ingest, and it falls away.
it tastes like sand.

It breaks my heart.
It breaks my heart.

My heart is not broken.
It is wounded.

Focus on something else for a while, focus on this
or that
or this again.
Heal it. WIll it to be healed.
Run, or think about it.
Try to get away from it, control it, manipulate it.

Am I worthy?
Am I loved?