Wow

I've heard plenty about the intricacies of the lesbian web of exes though myself still haven't been in enough relationships to experience that first-person.--Until yesterday, in which I had my first own dose of ex-lover weirdness that came in the form of my ex-girlfriend's most recent ex-girlfriend, the girl she went out with before we broken up. She gained her ex-status just 3 months ago, and from what I heard, it sounded like she hadn't felt sane since then until just 4 days ago. We have never had a conversation. We had met a couple times in passing, the first of which happened when I visited my ex's home one last desperate time, and when she came there to pick her up for a date. I'm not sure what gave her the courage to come to the other side of the cafe to say hi and talk to me. But she did. One of the first things she said to me was that she wanted to apologize for what happened. I didn't know what to say, because I wasn't really sure what she was apologizing for exactly. That she wasn't sensitive enough towards our falling-apart relationship? I just told her that she didn't need to be sorry, and that she had nothing to apologize for, at least not to me.What followed were the 2 most surreal hours of my life. I couldn't believe that the person who for the longest time embodied my frustration and anger was sitting in front of me, and suddenly I felt sorry for her and was hoping that maybe I was giving her some answers that she was still looking for. It was as if in her last efforts to make sense of what happened to their relationship, she thought that I had a role in finding some sort of closure. She told me that she thought my ex and I should still be friends, that she really did admire me as much as she told me, that I had a better connection with her and that she believed that the only reason why she broke up with me was really just simply because she was scared. She had given me no reason; but it was enough I suppose. And in a way I guess I had it easier than she did. She attacked her personality, basically told her that she sucked and not with the intention of giving her a chance to change or fix it. It was a reason to break up. For me, it was simple. Painfully simple and real, but it was situational, not personal. My pain was divided up between losing her and having to battle with circumstances. Maybe it was true that if the circumstances had been different, she would have stayed with me. But does it even matter? The pressures are real, the "gay life" isn't easy to live. I wouldn't ask anyone to live that just for me if she wasn't prepared to.I still don't know why she said the things she did, and what she expected me to say. I don't see how being friends with her would change anything for her, or for me. It would be impossible for me to describe the whole story here, and that really isn't the point. The conversation itself wasn't bad, and in a way it was almost nice. It killed me to see that she was so destroyed, and it made me realize how far I've come. But something about it has left a bad taste in my mouth. I guess I just didn't need to hear that I really was special to her, and yet no matter how special I was, my flaw was loving her.

The Pearl Necklace

This is very powerful

The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five.
Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a
circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box.

Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?
Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face.

A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma."

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted
out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents.

On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up.

She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble
bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night before he went to bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her astory. One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?" Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you."
Then give me your pearls."
Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy?
The one you gave me. She's my very favorite."

That's okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed
her cheek with a kiss.

About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked
again, "Do you love me?"

"Daddy, you know I love you."
"Then give me your pearls."
Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand
new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have
the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper."
That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you."

And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her
bed with her legs crossed Indian style.

As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear
rolled down her cheek.

What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?"

Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her
daddy.

And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little
quiver, she finally said, "Here, daddy; this is for you."

With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's daddy reached out
with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he
reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of
genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.

He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up
the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure.

So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap
things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures.

Isn't God good? Are you holding onto things that God wants you to let go of? Are you holding on to harmful or unnecessary partners, relationships, habits and activities that you have come so attached to that it seems impossible to let go? Sometimes it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing.

God will never take away something without giving you something better in
its place.

You can do two things with this story:
A. Pass it on and let others be touched by its message;
B. Throw it away and not let it touch your heart.

The greatest gifts happen when you share love and touch others.

Connection

watching
waiting
in anticipation
heart beating
rapid breathing
skin sweating
thoughts cycling
body heating
swallowing throat lumps
and feigning emotions
the truth gets out
the attraction's mutual
feeding affections
finally, a connection!

Stand, Fall

I stand in an array of light
The beacon of your shadow
I gaze into the horizon of your beauty
I am lost between due east and due west

I stand frozen in one moment
While time flashes before me
I am captured by your gravity
The polarity between true north and true south

On my knees I rest
And beg to revisit the past
The split second that just left us
You rise to the request

I position my body next to yours
My breasts touching your back
You turn, relinquish, submit
Into the depths of your eyes I plummet

I discover myself to be lost
In the flickering flame of your passion
You’re burning, blazing, on fire
And only I can kindle this boiling desire

Rekindled

This is an old poem I wrote that today has new meaning to me:

When the pieces of a broken life
begin to once again take shape
and the pain of living starts to subside,
a spark of creativity breaks its bonds
and the void is replaced with a
wellspring of new, untapped potential,
a testimony to the heart's ability
to survive the most brutal devastation.
Out of the ashes comes a new creature
reborn and fragile,
but in many ways stronger than the one
left behind.
A strength that comes from surviving,
enduring, and rising once again
refusing to capitulate to disappointment and loss
From fragile empty arms comes a dreamer
half awake, determined to be fully alive
the heart of a survivor, the soul of a poet,
a candle rekindled in the darkness

Letting Me Go

Take a breath and realize
I'm not the one you need
The person you need is someone special,
She's not at all like like me.
I know you think you like me
When I need it
There you always are
Take the chance and notice though
I'm just creating you a scar
I can't give you what you need
I can't change the things I do
And I surely can't change myself
I can't make myself love you
I'm not the perfect person
You seem to think I am
I'm not the girl you want
You are a much better woman.
You can't make me
Into the person you think I should be
And, baby, when I am gone...
Don't waste your time findin' someone like me.
Let her be her own person
Let her just be free
Let our memories go...
Because she'll be nothing at all like me.
I promise you will love her
I promise she will care
I promise you will soon realize...
You don't need me to be there.