The festering essay

Sitting down to write for thirty minutes timed.. time to start again.. maybe if I do write…all that is rotting with this constant onslaught of Sheila will subside. I don’t like the person I have become; worrying, insecure and needy.

That woman just makes my skin crawl with distaste. Now that is a good first line of a story. So I shall write a story.

The woman just makes my skin crawl with distaste. I’m harboring a festering stomach wound because of that sly, snarky and completely distasteful woman.  I’m shocked by my level of hate, distaste and rage this woman makes me feel. She is this year’s Karen Dardis. The only other woman in the world, I hate as much.

Last night I guiltily checked his texts again, standing in the dark of the kitchen at the counter. Actually I have to turn his phone on first as it lays there charging. Me I’m charged with guilt, resentment and a neediness that makes me feel like a worm. But again; I’m not shocked to find three from her and as I read one. “I want you in my bed again, it was lovely.” And the next “miss you.” My gut just dropped to the floor in agony and then I was so coldly pissed. Covered in chills and hit with a rage so deep I could envision myself lighting her business on fire or shooting out a window or what I so badly want to do is come up on her in an alley some night while she is drunk and toss a bag over her head and run her face down a brick wall.

I cannot stand this woman. She is like no one I have ever come across with her mean personality, buying and bullying friends and belittling them as she does it all.

I could not sleep and when I did it was fitful. A storm rolled through and I thought my heart would break with the dark thoughts of not having in him my life anymore, not sharing the summer storms we love so much. I love this man. I got up and took the soft blanket with me, wrapping it around me while I rolled a cigarette and then went outside to sit on the porch in the dark.

Waiting for the lightning.

Waiting for the thunder.

Alone. Wishing he was sharing this storm with me, but so sad that it might never happen again. Beating myself up over and over about why he would be with me if he is having sex with her. When was he doing it, why? How often? The questions raged through me, but always returning to why? I have given him so many chances to be with her if he wants to, why does he stay and act like he cares, if he is fucking her? Tears start in my eyes and raindrops hit my face and the blanket. I reach down to move the blanket out of the rain a bit. The dark Prussian western sky lights up with a searing piece of lightning, making me blink in shock and blindness. A wind brings goosebumps to my arms, I rub the rain off them as well.  The lightning, It is followed slowly by thunder in the mountains. I put out my cigarette and wipe my face, moving tears and rain away and go back to bed. I had texted him previously. “Shouldn’t go to bed early and leave your cell phone laying around dirtbag. This you will get in the morning right after her lovely bed comment. You are such a lying piece of shit.” Then later I sent another. “Fuck you.” All night I warred with myself about what to do and say to him. One minute I wanted to throw cold water on him, the next, hoping beyond anything we were even and that he would pick me. I must of fell asleep because he woke me, walking past the guest room where I was sleeping. I wished he could hear how much I needed him to be the man I need him to be.

As the sun came up, I finally got up and took a shower and dressed. Hoping to get the pain fullest of days started. How could he deny it now? How could he keep lying to my face about it? I glanced down at him with resentment, he was sleeping so peacefully and he looked so sweet as I put on yesterday’s pants and tank tops.  I went to the couch and tried to read, wrote some in my diary and tried to sleep yet again. I give up.

Tossing the phone on the bed and waking him. I say “You better read your messages, because I would like to get this day over with.”

He reads them and I carefully watch his blue green eyes taking in the tan of his skin as he lays tangled in sheets. Looking more sexy than a man should be allowed first thing in the morning. His blue eyes they are clear of alcohol, they are clear of guilt and he says abruptly “I’m not fucking her, I swear I’m not. I have never been in her bed.”

“Then why does she say this shit, why does she keep texting this shit?”

“I don’t know. I told her to stop.”

“I want to believe you, but why would she say this stuff.”

He pulls me into bed with him, and I want to believe in him so very badly it makes me want to cry in fear, lack of trust and hope. He wraps his arms around me and he smells my hair.“Did you shower, already?”

“I couldn’t sleep because that woman is eating me alive.” I lay there and we are both silent for a long time. Finally I say,“there was a storm last night.”

“I know I watched it, when I woke up at four to pee and smoke. It was raining so hard. I woke up and put my hand to where you were supposed to be and you weren’t there.” I smile at the dresser as I stare across the room lying in his arms, his body heat taking the sting out of the night. Wondering if he wished I had been awake for the storm with him at the same time, just like I had earlier missed him.

He says into my hair and neck, “why did you sleep in the other room?”

“You were hogging the bed and snoring like a freight train, again.”

He pulls me tighter into him, his breath comes over my shoulder and then his voice. “I turned my phone off last night.”

“I know,” I say guiltily, “it’s making me crazy that she texts you and I just could not help myself.”

I sigh and roll over to put my head on his chest, glad that he is here and yet still my heart is so heavy.

Gossip Girls

Gossip is idle talk or rumor about the personal or private affairs of others. It is one of the oldest and most common means of sharing facts, views and slander.

Of late; there are vicious rumors, rooms full of them, that abound and taunt. A vicious cycle. A vicious circle. How does one keep faith? How does one get any sleep?

I find myself at the heart of it, defending someone I care about very much. So what could be worse than gossip? That is simply the word doubt. My brain swirls, turns and bumps into things all night. Do you know that bump I'm talking about? You are just about to sleep, and you bump into a thought and all hell breaks loose in your head and you jump back into yourself with a jolt like you have bumped into a wall.

Last night I tossed and turned, rolled and sighed all night long. Doubt, jealousy and a bit of rage at this place I'm suddenly living in, in my life. Doubting what I know, doubting what he says. Wishing to have the old 'happy place' days back because I'm terrified to trust him enough to trust him. Because that little nagging bitch, called doubt is killing my trust that I'm so terrified will be thrown in my face like those meth lies of old.

It makes doubt winning over truth and I don't want it too. Popping Tums like candy to settle it.

People approaching me in a "delicate" manner. People asking out of concern. People just fucking talking. Questioning me with their opinion of what is going on. Wanting to know, wanting to share. I fucking hate it. Interlopers, seemingly trying to make me aware of something I'm well aware of for crying out loud.

But who is the worse threat, really?

Him
Her
Myself

Catch & Release

Writing, blogging and art have all taken a back seat with my yard project. Although I did finish one painting last week. I need to start setting a timer and make myself spend some time on writing. I find that writing is similar to painting for me. Sometimes the creativity is just not there and I need time to dwell, soak and process. Let it out in other ways to get to the good stuff.

The new last frontier

Departing Bonfire

Nick is off working in Nak Nek, Alaska. He flew out April 27th and I have been busy keeping myself busy. Stayed at my sisters and helped my Mom with the kids while she was at Whistler. I went to this cool grocery store at The Great Wall Mall and then to Ikea. My Chicka's visited. I went to Alpental. I have serious garden plans and even more yard plans. Oh and I painted.. Been damn-ass busy.

Their back in ak

The most important thing I have started to do is work out. I have been attending classes at Roslyn Fitness and then after class yesterday I went on a bike ride with Kelly to hunt mushrooms. A total of 2.1/2 miles. While it was strictly flat.. it was a bike ride on top of step class. Today was Zumba.. tomorrow will be step again and a bike ride to tennis.. I'm hoping to be a hard body..hot mama in a month when my man comes home. Bikini season is coming and got to fight the middle age spread.

I though I might possibly die when I thought about exercising because it has been so long. But I was fine..must have been all the walking that helped. I'm sleeping hard, playing hard and missing Nick. Oh I almost forgot.. the Roslyn Photo shoot. A camera company came to town and needed locals for a photo shoot.

photo shoot

The Mesh of a sirens song.

Armitage Siren

Sometimes it's not about the money.
Sometimes it is about the quality of a man.

Every person has bad and good qualities. And sometimes it's about whether two people can mesh and make it work in the bad times. For the last three months, maybe more I have had this man pursuing me that is not Nick.

I have had a large amount of pressure placed on me, about what and who might be better for me. I have done some thinking and today I'm being honest with myself about what and who I want in my life.

Nick is a drinker. Nick is young. But he is a good man. He does not come with a lot of money and he sorely tries my patience sometimes. But we mesh well. He loves to have fun, he makes me laugh my ass off. He loves to eat good food. He likes to cook, garden, read. He is smart and educated. He is thrilled to watch a Disney movie. He is watching Downton Abbey with me. I just like the guy.
Actually I love the guy.

So when there is pressure about "this so called better man for me" from the locals. Is it really true? How does anybody else know what is really best for me, besides me.

Today I changed my haircolor, to a deep brown red... Have you ever had the experience of or heard the term a sirens calling.. siren song? The term "siren song" refers to an appeal that is hard to resist but that, if heeded, will lead to a bad conclusion. Well this evening I walked downtown to get the mail and Nick was at the Pasttime so I stopped in and said hi. He was happy to see me. Everybody was happy to see me. He had to make some phone calls and stepped outside, I had a package to deliver and stepped outside as well and mentioned that I was going to deliver it. I walked up to the Eagles and the person that I was going to deliver the package to happened to be driving down the street. I handed him the package and he drove along side me as I walked. Flirting. Suddenly from behind me there is another man hollering at me and following me. Flirting. I walk back to Nick and have all these men following me. Is it the change in hair color? 

Back into the bar and it is suddenly a gaggle of men, trying to grab my attention. I blush and become flustered as everybody makes comments about the men following me as well.  Tonight, thinking back on it, reflecting on it I think of the term siren, I don't care much for the "bad end" part of it, so I also think about other ways to follow..dogs chasing a scent and bee's to honey. 

But in all honesty what made these men follow and pursue me so blatantly when I'm taken?

Nick left with me and he is the one I want to follow me.

You don't become a legend without a fight.

I have been watching the new series from the History Channel, Vikings. Pretty good shit. That is one of the time periods I enjoy exploring and reading about. The show is filmed in Ireland as well. It's also cool that I can watch it free on Hulu when I don't have regular television.

Between work, yard and the man I have been pretty busy this spring. We have been making plenty of babies...Our joke... Since we will most likely not have children together. In my dining room placed on the floor is a litter of containers growing garden starts. "Our babies."
This week they have just gone nuts. Yesterday we had to move the beans and peas to bigger pots and if the weather is good the kids are put outside to play.

Brussel Sprouts
Beans
Peas
Strawberries
Blackberries
Rasberries
Basil
Thyme
Oregano
Spinach
Cucumber
Sunflower

These are the ones I can think of without getting up to look. Nick has also built and installed two of the four raised beds we have planned. I have always enjoyed gardens. Just never have I done one with quite so much precision, planning and work.

Nick heads out to Alaska in just a short while. So we are trying to get all this done before he leaves. In my neighborhood there are many gardens. I can walk down the sidewalk or the alley and see many ideas and locations. In recent years my yard had become the host to wilderness. Slowly we have tamed the beast. Somebody asked me recently..what are you going to do when it's done? What will you do with your time?

"Maintenance... but also some relaxing in it."

The plan is to have barbeques, parties and live music on the starpad.

Landscaped

Lovely is how pliable the earth is right now in my yard. The shovel slices through the dirt, like a fork through chocolate cake. It crumbles, it is rich in color a dense dark chocolate so moist and rich and so very malleable. I have cut swathes of steps, walls and terraces in my backyard.

Spring comes and goes, winter comes and goes... they are playing ping pong with each other. This week it is winter and it has snowed every day. I'm at that point in winter when the tease and taunt of the spring days we have had, make it painful to have snow and wind. Eager to get out there again.