Emerging From The Fire

You and I

2011-09-23T22:38:00.000-07:00

It is nearly 2:00 am and I am finally heading to sleep. I wasn't up all night dancing at the clubs. I wasn't strolling along an overflowing river with some handsome guy. I wasn't drinking wine at some exotic restaurant. No -- I was talking to my ex-boyfriend over IM. We are trying to talk through things and forgive one another for the mess we both made. As I waited for him to answer, I sifted through indie songs and found this one. Somehow, it just seemed perfect. I sent it to him and put it here for you all now...

Woman's Best Friend

2011-09-22T19:40:00.000-07:00

"Of course I don't love my husband. I married him BECAUSE I don't love him. I learned that from you. You and I --we just love too hard. Too strong. Too much. There is no way to marry the guy you really love because you will always have to live in fear of losing him. Duh..."

My sister's words hung in the air life a knife.

She went on to explain, "I know you. There are only a few men you have ever REALLY loved. Really... loved. I can count them on one hand. And I am sure that none of them are your ex-husband. Don't bullshit me. I am your sister. I know".

And so I was forced to admit that what she said was true. I LIKED my ex-husband. He was my best friend. Best. Friend. That makes him sound like my pet dog. But, sadly, it is true. We were married for 13 years and he was just my best friend.

But, it was different with this last love of mine. From our first email conversation, I was head-over-heels, can't-breathe-when-I-am-near-him, writing-poetry-for-him, sending-him-love-songs in love. I couldn't stop touching him, kissing him, calling him pet names, being near him. I also couldn't stop worrying that he was cheating on me, worrying that we would soon break up, worrying that he would die...

The very fact that I loved him made me vulnerable and weak. I hated it and adored it.

With my ex-husband, I never worried about those things. Everything was a flat line on number 5. Never a 10. Never a 0. Never even a four or six. Just a flat five. Every day. All day. And, I longed for the 10. I longed for the guy who would walk in the door and sweep me off my feet. Well, I got him. Little did I know that he would be my 10, but he would also be my 0.

Moving Beyond the Bookends

2011-09-18T21:54:00.000-07:00

Years ago, I started this blog as an echo to a similiar blog written by my high school ex-boyfriend. In the early 90s, we had a catastrophic break-up that was left completely unresolved. We both limped away bruised, wounded and unhealed.
As I started this blog, I had no way of knowing that it would see me through the next five years of:

my husband coming out of the closet
a painful divorce
healing from a childhood rape
facing the pain of my parents' divorce
doubts and anger about God
soul connections
and finally, another catastrophic break-up that ended with both of us limping away bruised, wounded and unhealed.

The two men from these "catastrophic break-ups" served as bookends to my love life. One was the first man I loved. The other the last. They also served as the bookends to my blog. I started it for one and ended it for the other.

Two men. Two life-altering, mind-blowing spiritual connections that went beyond all my comprehension. Two painful endings that left me whimpering in the corner and unable to believe in anything.

*slowly sucks teeth*

It has been nearly a year since the last disaster and it is time to heal again. There is probably a better way to do it than to spill my guts to the anonymous internet, but I don't know one, so here goes...