Video Podcast Episode 2 : Sad Songs Say So Much: Grief and Acceptance

My "Sad Songs Say So Much" playlist on YouTube.

You can dig through my blog and find all types of posts about love and heartache. It's amazing how free I am with information about my life. I write to let go of the emotions and to sort through the issues. I share it here because someone might be able to hear something in my thoughts that might help them through it. One thing is certain, I am no relationship expert but I could possibly be a champion of overcoming heartache.

In the days following the announcement that my ex wanted a divorce, I had never felt such agony before or since. I will never forget specific moments where I thought I would just die. Everything was so uncertain. Was he serious about this or was this a temporary situation? What happens next? Do we continue to live together? Is he cheating? There were just endless questions. I felt so lost and alone even being surrounded by family and friends. There are times, even now, where I still feel all alone.

In the ugly of my break up, it was very difficult to start my day. I couldn't even see thirty minutes ahead of me. I didn't eat. I drank a lot to soothe me, to numb me, to avoid dealing with the present. I teetered between sadness and extreme rage. I wanted to break things. I wanted to punch and kick the rage out of me so I went to the gym a lot. That helped me get my appetite back as well as work through my rage issues. My friends wanted to hunt him down and destroy his truck. Some days I entertained the thought and we would ride with bats in the car and sugar for his gas tank. We never did do it. I could never knowingly destroy something like that. And besides, my name was still on his truck.

As you make your way through heartache or loss, DO NOT hold it in. You don't have to be strong. Take some time to be alone and grieve through it. Feel all of the emotion and move into acceptance. This is not an easy process but who you evolve into is entirely up to you.

I have learned so much through this process, more than I did from my first marriage and divorce. I have discovered so many things about myself. I acknowledge my flaws in the demise of my marriage. I own the things that I could have done better and vow to turn those weaknesses into strengths for the next man that shares my world. I have learned patience and to trust that whatever is ahead of me is for me. I feel my star rising, whatever that means... I feel it deeply. I have practiced forgiveness on several occasions in my life and this is one event that has forced me to put it into practice again. And I gladly do so because I do not want the ghosts of the past to haunt my tomorrows. I don't want to be bitter and angry because that is not who I am.

I still prepare to be enchanted by life and love and all the beautiful things in the universe. I know that love will find me again and when it does, it will be full and complete and blissful. This is what I want for you too, Dear Reader, that your heart will heal when you grieve and accept what IS.

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Someone Waiting Home

I traveled to Las Vegas recently with my best friend. We have both had a rough couple of years with separate life trials. A Girl's Trip seemed an appropriate way to, sort of, decompress. She just went through 18 months of dealing with her young son having cancer. Thankfully, he is in remission. Me, of course, I am dealing with the divorce from my husband of thirteen years. Aside from the wonderful activities we engaged in, from shopping and gambling to attending world-class shows, much of our time was spent talking through our pent up emotions. The really deep discussions always ended up with both of us sobbing our eyes out. And actually the joyous conversations, where we celebrated our small triumphs, also ended in tears - of happiness of course.

At the end of our trip, as we made our way to separate gates, I thought to myself that she's overflowing with love (after a much needed getaway) and she gets to go home to a family that's anticipating her arrival. For a quick second I felt sorry for myself as I had no one waiting at home for me. There was no one to pick me up from the airport. There was no one that was missing me and waiting for me to come home. At the end of my journey was an empty bed and no one to share all the fun experiences I had in Vegas. There are perks to being single and being completely free to operate without permission from another person, however the perks are sometimes unfulfilling. I hope that when I do find someone who loves me the same way that I love, that he will never stifle my desire to be free.

My ex and I was texting the other day and he asked me if I was seeing anyone. I said, "YES." I was surprised at how emotional I became with our conversation. He said he was not seeing anyone and reminded me how he always used to say that if we didn't work out that he would be done with relationships. And we did always say that. I said I would never marry again if we ever split NEVER thinking that we would ever split. I thought he was my forever. I didn't have a Plan B. I don't have a Plan B. I'm figuring it out every single day.

ME: I never wanted to be alone in life. I don't like being alone.
HIM: I just do
ME: To each his own. It's rough trying to get to know someone new. I'm too old for this.
HIM: Yea that's why I don't.
ME: I like being a wife.
HIM: You about to get married?
ME: No. Hell no. I'm just saying I like being a wife.

And there, that last statement explains it all.

I do like being a wife. The clearly defined roles in a relationship from the past are changing or have changed. Most modern women shy away from the domestic duties that come with relationships. I enjoy it. Serving my home is how I show my love. My love is big, It's generous. It's loyal. And I only want to share that with one person. I don't want to spread myself out even though that seems to be the trend of the dating world. In return, however, I want the same big love and loyalty and genuine affection.

As I boarded the plane in Las Vegas with the final destination being Charlotte, North Carolina, the only thing I could think of is the empty home waiting for me. And this season that I'm in, unmarried and childless, I suppose is my time to chase and achieve every single dream I have ever dreamed. There is nothing holding me back except myself. I resolved, on that flight, to not sit in self-pity because my home is empty. I resolved to fill it with all my hopes and all my dreams and with pure, self-love. I vowed to use this time, use the pain of a broken heart to push me into a life bigger than I can currently imagine for myself. My home is full of love because my heart is full of love and though my heart is a little banged up right now, I still BELIEVE in love! And why do I still believe in and search for love even after experiencing so much heart ache? In all the ways a person loves and seeks love, what is the thing that makes the pursuit of it all worthwhile?

Home. I want HIM to feel like home.

#1yearLater

A year ago I was stuck on the side of the road in Nowhere, South Carolina (not a real town). I had struck a deer in my rental car and I was unable to continue my drive to the coast. A seemingly random event that, all things considered, was really just a random event has actually changed the course of my life. I look back at a year ago and the heavy heart that I carried around with me. I was newly divorced, had a really bad experience with an ex over the 2016 Christmas holiday, and was in such a bad place. The open roads of Georgia and South Carolina called to me. I needed the time and the space and the open road to just think and ponder how I would lift myself out of the dark place I was in.

I flew from Honolulu, Hawai'i to Atlanta, Georgia. I had not planned to hang with family in Georgia but I selected Georgia specifically because I had family nearby. I like having the comfort of knowing that people I can count on could be called in the case of an emergency. I was searching for something, anything, to make my heart happy again. My intention was to find that place in me through the silence of the dark roads and the seemingly endless open highway. As I picked up my rental car, I selected to travel east, south east to the eastern shores of South Carolina and Georgia. I wanted to look out onto the Atlantic Ocean to see if maybe I could find a new ocean to love - far away from the Pacific.

I have a love affair with the ocean. I will never stop loving the ocean and the feeling of being submerged in its waters. The Pacific, though, reminded me of all the good times I have had with the two loves of my life - both are ex-husbands now - and I just wanted to run away. Run far away from the place that I loved so much. I was hungry for new experiences and new places. I wanted to let my hair down and find the authentic me that was so caged up in Hawai'i. I wanted to run away from the pain and the hurt that I felt at the hands of my newly single ex-husband. I wanted to love him forever and I suppose a part of me always will but I needed to run away.

5:30 p.m. I pull out of the Atlanta-Hartsfield airport and make my way to I20-E. I drove for hours and hours through Augusta, GA through Columbia, SC. As I made my way toward Myrtle Beach, I pulled off the interstate and onto the lonely county highways. It was dark, so very dark, and I found myself so lost in the sadness and grief that was my life. Nothing like a broken heart to bring a person face to face with all of their flaws and brokenness. I felt alone.

I was just an hour away from Myrtle Beach when I hit the deer. It took hours for the tow truck to get to us because I was in such an isolated location. My cell phone didn't work, the State Trooper took about thirty minutes to get to me. The whole experience had brought me to my knees and illuminated all of my hurt places - not physical hurt but the emotional broken down places inside of me. The tow truck took me to the nearest town and dropped me off at a hotel where I checked in to hunker down for the night.

And then I met someone.

The electric between him and I was thick and so tangible. There is no way to duplicate that kind of fireworks and that kind of chemistry. I am still at a loss when I think of that evening. A seemingly random event like hitting a deer and wrecking my car has changed the course of my life.

Fast forward one year and here I am in South Carolina. I am settled in and about to buy a house on my own. It's all rather bittersweet for me because I have been married for all of my adult life, it seems. I have always had a partner to help me make decisions, especially the big ones like buying a house. There was always someone to share financial responsibility for the household. And here I am doing it all.by.myself. But this is what I wanted - new adventures, new beginnings, and that is the life I have chosen for myself.

And that someone that I met?

The conversation has been ongoing since that fated evening. #1yearLater

Grateful That It Happened

Today marks the eighth wedding anniversary of my sister/cousin and her husband. I was one of two matrons of honor in their wedding. As I was preparing a collage to post to my social media wall, I had to dig through pictures from that time in my life. And there are dozens of pictures of my ex husband and I. It brought tears to my eyes to see us in bliss. We had such a tight bond. We were truly best friends for a good part of our marriage. I never gave up on us nor did I ever give up on him. Every person has a limit and the moment we signed our divorce papers, my commitment to him ENDED. That doesn't mean that I don't still feel love for him, it just means that I am no longer obligated to be a faithful friend and lover. He obviously moved on and so must I.

Since our split, he always talks about us being friends. He talks about going to dinner before either of us leave the island. On the surface, it seems harmless but my heart just can't take it and I told him as much. I believe the last text to him about us being friends went like this, "I'm here if you need anything but I will never see you as just my friend." It's true. My heart aches when I think of our good times together. I see him as such a beautiful soul but this divorce and how it all went down is just too much for my heart to handle. I am the most faithful and loyal companion a man could ever want in his corner and I will never understand why I was the first thing that he wanted to clear from his life. The same thing went down with my first husband.

I'm lucky in love, meaning I never have a problem finding someone to love and someone to love me. The problem is getting him to stay forever. And maybe that's not in the stars for me and it scares the hell out of me to grow old - alone. Though I can thrive and flourish in solitude, I love the idea of growing old with a companion that I love romantically. I had hope that my now ex-husband was that guy. I'm going to be 42 in a few weeks and this is not how I pictured my life. At the same time, I'm grateful to have this shock to my life. It has propelled me out of living in "the gray" and has given me all the motivation to chase my wildest dreams. There are no more excuses. I can't blame my husband because I don't have one. I can't blame my children because I don't have any. There is nothing holding me back anymore.

This brings me back to the origination of this post. As I look at the pictures from my cousin's wedding and I see the beautiful life I had with my ex, I will move forward with gratitude that he and I happened. Even if he only wanted me for just a season of his life, I am grateful that I experienced the love that we did share. And though his flame for me faded, I will always carry him in my heart. All of the special times that we've shared and all our travels together and how we made it work for 13 years - I will remember the good times. And for the record, I am a good woman but he is a good man too. I know I toot my own horn a lot but I have to give him much respect and credit because he was good to me through most of our marriage. This is why it is so difficult to see him leave my life and I will always want to be his ride-or-die.

#iStillBelieveInLove

Happy, Even

This morning I feel as light as a feather.

As many of my blog followers know, I have been working on my first novel. I have started several novels before, wrote the first chapter then just stopped. But this one, the one I'm working on now, has so much fuel and fire on it that I have no option but to write, write, and finish it. I have taken out my old journals for inspiration so that I can push through the writing. I have an aggressive goal of completing the first draft by the end of April. This would mean that I have to write about 10,000 words per week. If I write six days a week, that's about 1,700 words a day. Aggressive, I know! I am already behind so there is a lot of catching up to do this week. If I combined what I write in my handwritten journal with this blog and what I add to my novel, I would kill the 1,700-words-per-day goal.

So why do I feel light as a feather today?

Well, I pulled out my journals the other day to make my second video on my YouTube Channel. (I posted the video of me talking about my journals.) I decided to read my journals for inspiration and let me tell you the emotion was coming off the page. I cried and sobbed as I read. And it was THE UGLY cry, the stutter cry with stuff coming out of my nose and tears flowing from my eyes. It was not pretty.

Everyone gets one first love. Mine happens to be my first husband. So much of who I am today was shaped because of that first love and the heartbreak of that first love. We have been through so much together and in some of my hardest times, he was the only one standing with me. I knew I loved him when we had our first real conversation. And my love is true ride-or-die love. I don't have any quit in me. Reading the journals was like revisiting the hurt because of my devotion to that man. At the end of our relationship, he really had nothing left for me. No affection. No love. No care for me. Reading through those emotions and events of unrequited love really sent me into a crying fit.

Last night I sent a facebook message to him with some of the journal entries that I had read. He did not recall treating me so cruelly and perhaps he did not think he was doing that. But since I was on the receiving end of his inability to show me love, I am the teller of the story. He allowed me to express my hurt. I cried and cried as I read and wrote those words to him. It was like a small weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt that pain again, expressed it to the man that I had once loved with complete abandon, and then I let it go.

You may wonder why I am dealing with my first husband. I believe much of my current issues has to do with that first heartbreak. As I revamp my life and reinvent me, I'm taking my hurt alllll the way back to when I first felt my heart break and that was with my first husband. When I've healed from that I will make my way forward to my current divorce. Of course it messes with me that two men left me in my short 41 years. I can't say why nor do I understand it at the present moment. I don't know what I do that is deplorable to them that they cannot stay committed to the relationship. What I know is that I am a damn good woman even if they cannot see my value. I move forward with so many lessons learned and no love lost. I am still as excited about love as I have always been. New love. Butterflies in my belly. Bring on that crazy kinda love that sets off fireworks in my soul. I'm ready!

I know there is much healing ahead of me and that this will probably not be my last cry session. But for today I feel great. Light as a feather. Happy, even.

Chasm of Sorrow

Today is hard.
Today I am sad.

I was hopeful yesterday but today, today I am hopeless.

I love so deeply and so loyally that when betrayal arrives at my door, I feel broken.

I wish I could crawl back into bed, put a sheet over my head, and make the world go away. I wish I could sleep peacefully without the worries of tomorrow pulsing in my brain. Yet I don't think it is worry that keeps me awake but a loss of the expectation of what I thought my life would be like.

Tomorrow has changed significantly.
Tomorrow is a blur.

I cry when I'm alone.
Mourning.
Grieving.
Wishing things could be different.

I feel numb in the waking hours.
Insistent that this is just a nightmare and that I will wake from its grip.

My heart is breaking and I can do nothing but feel it intensely.
I am falling so helplessly down a chasm of sorrow.
And all I want is to feel joy again.

Fifty Shades... of Break Ups

I just completed the audiobook of Fifty Shades of Grey. I have to say that I didn't care too much for all the sex in the book and the BDSM actions. It was overkill. I did, however, enjoy the characters of Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey. None of the trailers or movies shorts on YouTube even come close to how I imagined the two characters. Anyway, **spoiler alert** throughout the book I was supremely irritated by Ana's naivete and Christian's mysteriousness. By the end of the book, though, I was rooting for both of them and hurting at the same time. I was so broken up. Ana's fall for Christian was so genuine. It reminded me of how I fell head over heels in love with my ex-husband, which of course led to our eventual break-up. By the end of Fifty Shades of Grey I was shedding tears over these fictitious characters and remembering the difficulty of falling in and out of love and dealing with the hard stuff of learning to trust someone else.

As soon as I arrived home from work, I dug out my journals from the years when my ex-husband and I were separated. I started reading and began crying as I read. I remember the feeling of not being needed by the man who I had given my heart to, with complete and utter abandon. Without going into a long and detailed explanation of our twisted relationship, the short story is that we separated after four years of marriage. He left me.You can dig in my blog archives for stuff that I've written about our ill-fated romance.

*****
DATE: 24 September 2002 (we had been separated more than a year)

I just wish my husband were here to make it all go away. But he's the other part of my emptiness. I still feel like I'm chasing him.

So what becomes of a faithful woman whose ONLY hunger is passionate, unconditional love? I tell him that I'll be here, waiting for him. But my life is just passing me by. When does it come back to me? I used to think that love could flourish with one person doing all the loving but it can't. To do that would be AGAINST the laws of nature. I need him to love me back the way I NEED to be loved and not the way he knows how. 

This year has been quite a struggle. I cry 2-3 times a week over this crazy love. And it doesn't affect him. Nothing I desire sways him EVER in my direction. Shane(fake name) wants what he wants when he wants it. I can't change that. I can't change him. I don't know if I mourn this strange love affair or... if I'm letting him go. I'm uncomfortable with both options. 

I just want to feel special. He doesn't make me feel special like it was when we first met. But even then, Shane had his walls up. I love him so much. I miss him like crazy. But I want it all. Don't I deserve it all?
*****

Break-ups are so hard. Going through my journal brings up all kinds of feelings. I have so much compassion on the person I used to be and who I am today is because I was that woman that suffered from unrequited love.

*****
DATE: 2 October 2002

My husband and I need to have a talk. I feel less than appreciated. I think he has stopped loving me. I'm a different woman than the one he left one year, one month, nine days, and three hours ago. I don't want half-a-commitment. I don't want to have to worry about him EVER leaving me...again. I don't want another birthday to pass unnoticed. I don't want to spend another Christmas apart. I don't EVER want to be alone on our wedding anniversary again. EVER!

What am I gonna do? There is an answer SOMEWHERE!!! Every time he needs a break from me, is he going to leave me? Is EVERYTHING ALWAYS my fault? I don't think he knows how much love I have for him. If he did, would he STILL treat me this way? And why do I have all this love for him when he gives me no reason. How do I know he loves me back?

Why do I continue to hold on when there is nothing in return?

He's supposed to be my best friend and some of these crucial feelings I'm afraid to share with him. Actually most of them. I try really hard to NOT feel sorry for myself and I do a pretty good job. But I'm tired of nagging myself to demand the love I need and deserve.

So many times throughout the day I see something that INSTANTLY reminds me of my husband. Could be the way someone smokes a cigarette. Could be a bald head. Or the way someone walks... and I think about him. 
*****

Morose PMS Rant, Heartbreaking

When my first husband and I were going through the process of getting separated and then finally when we did separate, I thought it was the end of the world. I thought that my heart could not break or shatter like it did and it could not possibly ever come together again. At the time and on up to the divorce, every day was a practice in sanity under light depression. Even now, as I look back, I am amazed that I made it out from beneath such a dark cloud.

I remember the sad songs that were my constant friend, ever able and willing to send me into silent tears of loss.
Of longing.
Of self-doubt.
Of heartbreak.

Luther Vandross - I'd Rather
James Ingram - How Do You Keep the Music Playing
Marc Dorsey - I Crave

But the song that really shook me and continues to do so even when I here it now is Gloria Estefan's, Here We Are.





It is such a perfect indicator of how I felt in the days from when my ex told me he wanted a divorce until we actually signed papers. It was quite a fast process. It had to be like about nine days but each and every day was torture. And all I could think about was when he and I first met and the love affair that led to divorce; the romance that ended in goodbye. Mid-separation (he was living in New Mexico and I lived in Hawai'i), we rendezvous'd in San Francisco. I was working for a top-tier hotel so what could have been more romantic than meeting up with the only man that I loved. And the song sounds in my ears...

Here we are, face to face

We forget time and place

Hold me now. Don't let go.

Though it hurts and we both know

The time we spend together 's gonna fly

and everything you do to me is gonna feel so right

Baby when you're loving me, I feel like I could cry

Cuz there's nothing I can do to keep from loving you

After we parted ways in San Francisco -- I didn't see him again for another six months and when we were united, we were working on saying goodbye FOR GOOD. I remember when he first told me that he was DONE with the marriage. My first thoughts were that I was such a fool for loving him so hard. But I was grateful that there was absolution. I no longer wondered if he'd ever leave me again because divorce meant that he was leaving FOR GOOD. It was his birthday, you know, when he told me he wanted a divorce. Looking back -- in all ways, it was GOOD for both him and I. We were meant for a reason and a season; nothing more, nothing less. 

I had such an unrealistic view of what marriage was/is at the time. My view was marred with thoughts of romantic grandeur when people who are married for a long period of time know that there is nothing romantic about marriage except the wedding. But it gets better. I know it gets better. (Current husband and I make 9years coming up in November). Staying in a relationship where two people are committed and free of abuse almost guarantees that it will get better; that love will flourish and that the connection will be so deep that nothing can tear it apart. That was so not the case with marriage #1 and only time will tell what will happen with marriage #2.

Here we are all alone

Trembling hearts beating strong

Reachin out. Breathless kiss.

Never thought could feel like this.

I want to stop the time from passing by

Wanna close my eyes and feel your lips touching mine.

Baby when you're close to me

I want you more each time

And there's nothing I can do to keep from loving you

The moment immediately after signing the documents, I dropped the pen and looked him dead in his eyes. The tears welled up and it took everything in me not to gush. 

There's nothing I can do

I'm helpless in your arms

Baby what you do 

I'm in love

This is it

There's no turning back this time.

No no no

...There was no turning back. The papers had been signed. And my heart felt a great burden but also a great sigh of relief.

I often wonder what it would be like if we ever saw each other again in the now. I don't know what the feelings would be. Sometimes it seems like such a long time ago. I've grown and/or outgrown the old me and the situations of yesterday.

Here we are again once again

But this time we're only friends 

**sigh** A few months after we signed the divorce papers he called out-of-the-blue. My heart was aching from being without him, from running into another relationship to try and fill the void, and all I wanted to do is go back to what it was. He was all I knew for so long. But I knew that we would never again be more than friends. There are some belief systems that believe that a soulmate is a person that comes into your life to change it. He/she serves his or her purpose then MOVES ON. He changed my life.

Funny world sometimes lies

Becomes the game when love's the prize

And no no one knows whats going on inside

And all the love I feel for you

Is something I should hide

When I have you close to me

The feeling's so sublime

But there's nothing I can do to keep from loving you 

Life is a melding of all types of situations that either push us toward progression or toward living the same Groundhog's Day over and over. To help me maintain sanity, I sometimes meditate and go back (in my mind) to events that made me feel powerless and I change the event (in my mind) to take back my power. This heartache is nothing more than a forceful push toward taking my power back and I've done it.... been done it... but some days I feel like writing about it.

Day 02 : My First Love

The events in my life plays out like a series of "firsts". I feel like I've fallen in love a million times and could defnitely fall in love a million more. Defining love and trying to pin point who or what, exactly, is my first love has been a difficult task.

I look back on my life and associate my first love with my first heartbreak. My first heartbreak is the guy I first held hands with. It was so sweet, so innocent how he went from the first guy I was really, truly into to my first heartbreak. The broken heart I received from my high school crush was a precursor for the heartbreak of my first marriage but paled in comparison.

High School crush and I went to the Winterball together. FYI: I have never been escorted to an event by the same guy (so you have three guesses as to which date I'm talking about). Every semi-formal/formal event has been with a different date and ALLLLL were gentlemen. How many girls can say that? I hope all of you readers can!

I met him in the 7th grade. We had the same P.E.,English and Hawaiian History class. We've had the same teachers all throughout intermediate and high school. I was never quite into him in intermediate. I was still a tomboy and he was, well, just a boy. The oddest thing happened over the summer between freshmen and sophomore year... we both kinda blossomed. I put away my tiger shorts and gym shoes and traded them in for cute jeans and pretty sandals. He, on the other hand, rid his body of the baby fat and turned into HUNK #1.

It's that magical transformation that happens with every teenager. One day you just stop being your old self. The world begins to look different. We were really good friends. We'd pass notes back and forth in the classes we had together. In the ones that we didn't have together, he'd write me a letter and I would write him a letter then we traded them at recess. Sometimes we'd eat lunch together. My friends and his friends were all good friends. After school we would sit in study hall together. We would run together during track practice. During the football season, he would look for me after every game. We'd hang out before he went back to the locker room. He would wait with me in front of the gym until my ride came to pick me up after practices. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word and I was smitten!

As is the case with most smitten, teenage girls, I fell for him. Fell for him in a teenager-ee, high school crush, innocent kind of way. It was all very sweet. Sophomore year passed and I had the entire summer to cool off. This was when summer break was actually three whole months. Ahhh... those were the days. Junior year came around and we picked up right where we left off. By December we agreed to go to the Winterball together. That's where we first held hands. Our pictures turned out really nice too. Everything was downhill after that.

I don't quite remember what happened. Friends were playing messenger between us and trying to prod us into a relationship. I was for it but embarrassed to admit it unless he would admit it first. It was one of those things! Our friends getting involved kinda screwed up our friendship. We ended up parting ways and my heart was shattered. It's not like we were in a "committed" relationship. We didn't pledge to each other that we'd be girlfriend/boyfriend but we did spend almost every free moment at school together. And all of a sudden it came to a complete stop.

What halted it was another girl. His heart had wandered to another camp. At the time I was so broken by it but looking back on it now, it was all so sweet. I recognize him as my first love only because he was my first heartbreak. We were never the same. Even now when we see each other around, it is cordial but not warm and friendly. He was a great guy back then and is still qreat guy now.

Really though, it was a learning experience.

Photo Credit

Remembering Mishie

I remember the day she lay on the carpet, aching in her back and in her belly. She had complained about it for days, maybe even months but that day that she lay on the carpet we all knew that something was wrong. We. We were like the three musketeers. We had known each other as budding preteens, blossomed into young adults, and saw each other through very difficult times into our 20's.

In the 7th grade, she was the 'life' of math class, P.E., and the cafeteria. Mr. Takahasi, the math teacher, couldn't say a think about her antics. He laughed right along with us at all the excuses she made about why she didn't have her homework. She would pass notes in class with the express intent of the teacher intercepting them. She.Was.The.Life.Of.The.Party.

Girls camp would never be the same after her many different antics and her extreme enthusiasm for performing CPR. She said it would help her kiss better. She also walked around Girls camp with curlers in her hair. 12 years old, with so much confidence to be able to pull off curlers in her hair without worrying about people making fun of her. I am still in awe of how comfortable she was in her own skin. It was like she knew she would be here for a short time, so she made her very human experience full of LIFE. There was no time to worry about what other people thought of her. However, her one vulnerable spot was her family. She had intentions of pleasing them but she felt like she always fell short. I think she shined!


At the end of our high school years, she wow-ed the entire senior class with her daisy duke shorts and t-shirt under her graduation gown. She coupled that with a flower in her hair and flip-flops on her feet. The rest of us were laced up in our fancy suits and dresses. Very conventional! She never did conform. I'm glad she didn't.

A friend on Facebook posted a memory of her the other day, since this is the week she left this earth back in 2001. As if she were speaking to our dear departed she said, "Miss how you saw me walking on Moana street at 10AM and I didn't get home til 6AM the next morning. Got the lickings of my life but loved every minute." That was a classic "Mish" move. She just had the tendency of coming into your life and turning it upside down, in an extremely exhilirating way.

She introduced me to my first husband. I love her for that. Even if he and I didn't last very long, I'm grateful for the experience. I'm grateful that she was such a big part of my life.

What she represents for me, rather, what she could bring out of me is a complete feeling of being carefree. She never did settle down. She never bore any children yet she left tender hearts all over our community. It seemed, she always appeared in my life when things were rough. She'd show up with a big fat joint and a 40 ounce or the means to acquire said items. I suppose I have no use for those items now yet they evoke a nostalgia for those carefree days (when my morals were not exactly intact... you figure that one out).
One day she was here then four painful months later, she was gone. That aching in her stomach and back turned out to be cancer. Within two weeks, she had tumours protruding from her head. There were five of them, very large, just sticking out of her head. I couldn't bear to see her in such pain but I visited her at least a couple times a week and even spent the night, on occasion. When she went to Queens Hospital, we had a slumber party in her room. The nurses were happy to see her laughing. After her initial treatment was administered, they released her. That gave me a false sense of hope that she would get better.

She continued her treatments as an outpatient. But the treatments did not yield health. The cancer had spread to her uterus and her bones and was not retreating. The doctors outlook was grim. I knew I had to say goodbye. On a day she didn't feel weak, we took her to sing Karaoke. She loved that! As we were in our private karaoke room, we sang "That's What Friends Are For". I can't bear to sing that song, even now. It makes me miss her so much. We cried throughout the entire song.

Christmas Day of 2000, she was coming out of a coma in the hospital. Her mom told me that she hadn't been able to speak for sometime. I sat in her room with her. Just me and her. I was at the foot of her bed, crying my eyes out and trying to "let her go". That had to be one of the toughest things I've ever experienced. By New Years Eve, she had come out of the coma. When I went to see her, she was so vibrant. Not like life-of-the-party vibrant, it was something more eternal. When I walked into the room, she looked up at me and said, "Neena, they came lastnight." She told me about the angels that appeared at her window the previous night and how she heard the most beautiful music. Those were some of the last memories I have of her.

I remember the day she left this world. I was seated at my desk and, like a ton of bricks, I felt her all around me. I starting bawling at my desk. I picked up the phone to call her parents house. Her sister indeed informed me that she had faded away. It was February 10, 2001. I'm glad she visited me before she left. I'm glad she was a part of my life. I look forward to seeing her again some day.

What Not to Wear Therapy

This past Saturday TLC was running a What Not to Wear marathon. I DVR'd all the episodes that I didn't previously see and reviewed them later on in the evening. The premise of the show is to take a person that is fashion-challenged and make them over - new $5,000 wardrobe, hair, and makeup. I adore the hosts of the show Stacy & Clinton. Stacy reminds me of my cousin Honey Girl so she already has major brownie points with me. I remember when I lived in Kansas, I used to tune in to see Stacy because she looked like Honey Girl and I felt like I was back home again. That is the reason I became a fan of the show. Crazy but true. Clinton -- he's so fashion-savvy and soooo the guy next door. He reminds me of the character on My Best Friends Wedding, George, played by Rupert Everett. I wonder if Clinton is gay. He teeters on that fine line between being a "straight" male that has slightly fem attitude and a "straight" gay guy. Dare I google him?

Anyway, what amazes me about the whole process is how the person being made over sometimes experiences a "shift". Sometimes --no-- majority of the time, the person begins to change how they think just by overhauling the cosmetic parts of them (fashion, hair, and makeup). I wonder if this is why plastic surgery and bariatric surgery has become so trendy.

There was a moment in a particular episode that had me thinking about my own life. A Caucasian woman, age 52 from Texas donned one of her favorite outfits. Stacy and Clinton direct her to the 360 room (the room is round and the wall is all mirrors) where she talks about where she'd wear the outfit and all the reasons she loves it. She discloses that the outfit was purchased sometime in the early 80's. She absolutely adored the skirt set but any observer could see that it was not working for her. When Stacy and Clinton open the room to talk about the outfit, the first thing Clinton asks is, "What was going on in your life when you purchased this outfit?" The woman said that the early 80's was when she was the most happy she had ever been. Clinton told her that her emotional attachment to the outfit has more to do with what was going on in her life when she first began wearing the outfit and was doing nothing for her body.

In that moment, when Clinton lays out such a 'revealing revalation', I instantly think of my favorite shirt that I refuse to get rid of. I have never been able to figure out why it remains hanging in my closet. I just know that I take it with me everywhere. Normally, if I haven't worn an item in 6 months, it goes straight to the donation pile. This favorite shirt will probably never make it there unless a fashion intervention by Stacy and Clinton ambushes me.

 

  

 

Clinton mentioning the sentimental value reminded me of the extreme "shift" that was happening with me when I used to wear this particular shirt. The shirt was actually something I raided from a dear friend's closet. I thought it looked better on me than it did on her. She agreed and off it went with me to my house. This was happening when I was newly single, immediately after signing divorce papers. I felt pretty in that shirt and red happens to be one of my most favorite colors! So after signing divorce papers, I really began to fall in love with me. Hindsight being 20/20, I look back at that period in my life and recognize the "shift" in my mindset. I'm thinking that maybe the shirt reminds me of that "shift".

I emerged from that divorce a brand-new-me. Though I was miserably sad, I was also hopeful. I knew that I would never settle for mediocre treatment for the sake of saying, "I got a man". I would never settle for a relationship void of enduring love ever again. I would never, ever let someone walk all over my heart or shatter it in a thousand pieces. I valued me! I do believe all of 'that' is wrapped up in that one article of clothing.

Some people will never experience a "shift". They'll continue to live the same abusive day OVER AND OVER. The beautiful thing is that in every single moment, they can choose a different ending. You can choose a different beginning!

* * * * * * * * * *
What Not to Wear Photo Credit

Samoa La'u Pele

1-800-REDCROSS
(1-800-733-2767)

Though I've never lived there
It is the land from which my mother and her ancestors sprang from
Her ancestors are my ancestors
Her loss is my loss
May love, unconditional, surround the people of Samoa



Samoa, e pele oe i si ou fatu
O le a ea se mea e ao ona fai
E tautua ai mo oe
O sasae ma sisifo e tasi
O le viiga lea i le lagi
Aiga ma nuu taitasi
Tuu mai lou aao
Ta pepese faatasi



1-800-REDCROSS
(1-800-733-2767)

Heaven Help Me

My husband and I have been arguing for days about where we want to live. I could die the happiest woman in the world, if I could live out the rest of my days in Hawai'i, but not without my husband. And... well.... husband doesn't want to live not one more year on this rock that sits in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I always knew that this day would come, that I'd have to bid farewell to my island home. It is definitely here, sitting at my doorstep, invading my life.

I wish I was like I was when I was younger... sometimes. At any given time, I could be packed and ready to go in an hour. Ready to go anywhere the wind would blow me. I'm not like that anymore. I don't want to uproot... AGAIN... to start out somewhere else. I don't want to leave my family or the comforts of being home. I don't want to leave the beautiful ocean and the emerald-green mountains. I wish I could live all my days right here, in this special place. (Well, it's special to me!)

I've just been crying myself to sleep every night. When I think about leaving, I cry, even if I'm seated at my desk at work. And I don't know what's different about me now, that makes me so emotionally connected to this place. It's different. Maybe I'm more mature now and appreciate everything around me. I miss my family already and I miss them all equally. I'm going to miss all of my brothers football games and I so wanted to be here for them. I won't be able to see my beautiful nieces and handsome nephew grow up. I won't be able to have conversations with my parents or my brother and sister-in-law. I miss all of that already! If and when I do bear children, they will never know this place the way I do. They'll just be visitors in a strange land.

I want to petition the heavens on my behalf, to allow me the privilege of living in Hawai'i for all of my mortal days but that would be selfish of me. Both of my husbands' children live on the mainland and I can't compete. I have not stopped crying. I can't seem to focus on the positive. Heaven help me! What are the positives?

A Review of Sorts

The very large topic of the subjugation of women has laid heavy on my mind for two simple reasons. The first reason - I just finished reading the book by Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns. If you have plans of reading the book, stop reading this post now, as I may unravel details or the ending in a manner that might taint how you interpret the book.

A Thousand Splendid Suns, such a poetic title. So poetic, in fact, that at first glance I knew it wasn't a romance and that the title was satirical. It did, however, end up being about love. About unconditional, real love between friends and family. In relation to the subjugation of women, the story explicitly tells the tale of the Taliban and their treacherous domination over its citizens. To illustrate the topic, the book covers several forms of oppressive behavior. Physical and mental abuse, extreme poverty, near deification of natural-born sons rather than daughters, rape, murder, etc. The book was written beautifully, weaving in several historical events as well as places and classic Afghan literature.

The book left me heartbroken for Mariam, one of the key characters. In the closing chapters of the book, to defend herself and save the life of her fellow concubine, Laila, Mariam hits their abusive husband over the head until he dies. Mariam, wracked with guilt over her murderous act and wanting so very much to see that Laila's children live long lives and to see Laila be reunited with her true love, submits to the Taliban legal system. She gives herself as a sacrifice to allow the dreams of another to flourish. Triumphantly, she is put to death in the center of town, with a crowd both in awe and amazement at the courage that Mariam faced death with.


Reason #2 for this diatribe into the subjugation of women - I viewed the movie, Lilya 4-Ever. If you have plans of watching Lilya 4-Ever, stop reading this post now, as I will probably give away the entire movie here.

Lilya 4-Ever is a gem I found on Netflix. Sidebar: Netflix has a great selection of foreign films. I love love love foreign films because of the heavy topics they cover. The ones that I've selected, so far, have been gripping tales of the human condition. Anyway, Lilya 4-Ever is set in Estonia (once a part of the USSR). It is the tale of a 16-year old girl, Lilya, totally abandoned by her mother who up and moves to America. She is left to fend for herself and eventually turns to prostitution as a means of supporting herself and her little companion, Volodya - a boy abandoned by his parents. The graphic portrayal of how her life is lived, men penetrating her and grunting on top of her, broke my heart with the realization that this happens every day and has happened all throughout the history of the world.

Lilya falls prey to a handsome Russian, Sergei, who pretends to fall in love with her. He sends her to Sweden with the false promise of a better life and feigns to meet her there in two days time. With all her hopes and dreams for a better life fully intact and a newfound interest in living, Lilya leaves for Sweden. Overcome by despair and sadness because Lilya left him, Volodya ends his life. Sergei never shows and has sent Lilya directly into the hands of a small-time pimp. She is locked up in a single room and is only allowed to leave when the pimp has found her a "john". It seems she lives that way for weeks.

The apex comes when Volodya appears to Lilya as an angel and tells her that the door was left unlocked and she is free to go. She runs, without a clue on where to go, without a destination, utterly and totally WITHOUT hope. In the final moments of the film, Lilya climbs atop a highway over pass. Volodya is screaming at her not to do what he did -- to live life on her terms. Lilya, stuck in the violence called 'her life', jumps to her death.

The one unifying factor, in these two very extreme circumstances: THERE IS NO ESCAPE EXCEPT THROUGH DEATH. Bittersweet! Tragic! Triumphant, almost.

After experiencing the book then the movie, in succession, I realize how the world is in need of the healing powers of love. Women are charged with the task of being compassionate and forgiving and of teaching the world those special qualities. Though we are abused, though we are run into the ground with difficult choices, though we are subjected to burdensome loads; even through the drama of life, women will always triumph over the oppressor.


**Photo Credit for Thousand Splendid Suns
**Photo Credit for Lilya 4-Ever

Hawai'i Blues

I've been dragging my feet about leaving the island but every so often I suffer from a severe case of island fever. Husband is adamant about moving to the continental United States. His reasons for wanting to do so are valid and logical. I've been the one holding us back. In so many ways, I want a life less ordinary and yet I still cling to my traditional ideals and values.


I love this island. I feel so connected to the land, knowing that my ancestors are so a part of the landscape that I call home. Their spirits are on the wind. Their tears in every piece of earth that I touch. The Pacific ocean frees me in a way that no other body of water can. This is my home. This will always be my home!

To contrast my love for the land is my extreme abhorrence for the exploitation of my home and my culture via tourism. I blame the Hawaii Tourism Authority, as of late, for their agressive campaign to sell Hawai'i and its culture. What is so ironic is that I was raised on funds earned from tourism. My father was a Tour Bus Driver for 20 years before the Japan-owned company closed its doors without warning.

I suppose some people think that tourism is a great thing for Hawai'i. Currently, it is the dominant driving force in the economy. It doesn't have to be that way. There are other things that could be done in Hawai'i that would add to our self-sufficiency. For one, agriculture could be cultivated to provide for the people on the island now. Living in the tropics, it seems a shame that we ship in the majority of the food we eat. Second, we could work on energy dependence. We experience sunshine EVERY DAY! There is no reason for us NOT to harness the power of the sun. Third, Hawai'i could develop desalination plants. There's no reason why we should experience drought when we are surrounded by the greatest body of water on the earth! Tourism is never good for any host culture so why not develop other forms of industry?

Obviously, I have very strong feelings about tourism. Tourism is what pushes me to leave the island and search for the slice of heaven I knew when I was coming up. Isn't that ironic? I feel like Hawai'i has moved on without me. Like I am a visitor here just because of all the things that have changed since my day. It could be me that has changed. Maybe I have outgrown Hawai'i. **shrugs** I don't know. I just know that Hawai'i is different. Too many tourists. Too much development in the effort to accomodate too many people. Hidden somewhere is the Hawaiian people, the host culture of the land, pushed off their lands, unable to assimilate into American capitalism. **sigh** And I am stuck between so many clashing worlds. My father's Hawaiian blood, my mother's Samoan tradition, and my American social upbringing.

It almost appears as though I am suffering from an identity crisis. But I'm not. Above all of the man-made cultural traditions, including religion -- I am a child of the Most High. Made in the image of the Creator!

I will be fine -- if we follow my husbands desire to move to the continental U.S., I will succeed, flourish and long to be in the land of my ancestors. If we stay in Hawai'i, I will succeed, flourish and appreciate all the beauty in my island home!

How 'Bout Us

I started this the other day... a glimpse into my personal diary. I purge! I'm coughing up my ex-husband. As Chele put it... "imagine how clean the air will be when you get to the top of the mountain"... when I'm done talking about him.

Some people are made for each other
Some people can love one another for life
How 'bout us
Some people can hold it together
Last thru all kinda weather
Can't We?
(Performed by Champagne)

Monday 09 April 2001

Dear Pepa,

Aloha?! Well, I feel a little better. I just wrote a five page letter to my husband. Tomorrow makes seven years since we met. He has truly blessed my life. But I have come to realize that true love does not bind one. Set him free. I love him, what can I say? What do I do? In all the world, I can only love him and I will love him for the rest of my life. I promised to do so on January 4th, 1997 and I will love him only. I only wish that he felt the same for me.

My husband amazes me. How much I love him amazes me. God has truly blessed me by sending M into my world. How can we let something as simple as where we live get in the way of this true love.

Separate wayz, separate lives
Thought we'd give breaking up a try
It's clear to me
That I made a big mistake
I tried my best to fall for somebody new
I closed my eyes and there was you
Cause you're a tough act to follow
Memories of you, I just can't let go
(Performed by Starpoint)
I hate thinking of him loving someone else or letting someone else get close to him. Can you believe that? Seven years since we first met. Anyway, I don't like to think of him being with someone else or saying goodbye to me. But if his heart is in New Mexico then how can I ask him to stay with me? Cause no matter, he will never be happy. Where his heart is, therein lies his happiness. And if my love is true then I should only want him to be happy. So follow your heart wherever it will take you.

My baby has seen me through some of the hardest times in my life and I can only love him for that. I love him when he has nothing left to give me. When he's grouchy I love him dearly. When he's happy... that is when I am happiest. No one can love him the way I do. But what if someone can? What if someone else can make him happier? Then, I can only be happy for him and sad for the love I lost. I'm a survivor and I can make it. But the world is easier to travel knowing that someone got my back. Someone knows me inside and out, like a book. That person is M. I miss him already and he hasn't even left me yet.

If he is not happy here, I cannot ask him to stay. Maybe he will be happier in New Mexico. You know what I just thought of? My husband has a lawyer on retainer. If he wanted to divorce me, it would be so quick. I am so sad. I feel like we have a one-in-a-million love affair. I will never love another man this way.

I think about how this love affair started out. Somethin' else. I loved him then. I love him now. We were a good pair from the very beginning. Our endless talks, our secret rendezvous, our private love affair. Everything was so good. Our love is sooo worth preserving. Everything we have is worth every sacrifice even if it means putting our very relationship on the line... I am willing! If it means that we will find it.

Crippled Cells

What's a broken heart? Really! We can't LOVE with our heart, the organ that beats in our chest. We just can't. Our mind sends a signal to all the cells in our body that says that we love THAT MAN! Yep, he's the man that I want to love forever. So all the cells in the body are injected with seratonin, the happy chemical, upon sight of object of your affection. Then when that STOPS happening. When the sight of HIM makes you sick to your stomach and the brain stops producing seratonin then maybe it's time to let him go. Then future "heart breaks" can be called a MANGLED brain OR CRIPPLED cells instead of a broken heart. A broken heart never really happens. It's just NOT possible.

A couple of days ago, I had a need to purge. The result was Heart : Broken. Here is the continuation!

* * * * *

Quick review: It was his 39th birthday and I had a whole day planned out. He flipped it on me by telling me he wanted a divorce. We went to the arcade anyway. I was sad. I was hurt. I was a crying mess. Then I got upset. I got pissed.

I was ANGRY. I couldn't believe that after six years, three months and ten days of marriage, this man was DONE. Out of six years, three months and ten days of marriage... he managed to...

• Miss four Holiday seasons together (Christmas and New Years, four times in a row) - He always went running home for the holidays. I was working in retail and I could never get off work. The holiday season was our busiest time. Instead of staying, he LEFT me.
• Four wedding anniversaries together - He was in New Mexico with his family... our wedding anniversary was January 4th... so home for the holidays meant he'd be AWAY from me even on our anniversary.
• My birthday was just another day. I can't remember one single gift from him. Come to think of it, I hadn't received any Christmas gifts from him either. Even though I ALWAYS sent him a card for Christmas. How's that? I had to send my husband a card, not cuz he was away on business but because he'd rather be with his mother and sisters on Christmas.
• Two years before he decided he wanted to divorce me, we got separated. I was a nun all those months waiting on him; just hoping he'd get it together.

Well, those were the things that I thought of in my rage. I'm talking the kind of rage we seen on Waiting To Exhale.... "get yo shit, get yo shit AND GET OUT!!!" Bernadine filled that car with EVERYTHING she could and set it on fire. That's the anger I was feeling. Hind sight being 20/20, I was wayyyy too cordial to him. Even though I destroyed a whole bunch of stuff, I still loved him with every fiber in my body and couldn't set it all on fire. On the real, I packed his stuff neatly in boxes and set it in the living room, against the wall, all together, ready for him to send off. I made life so easy for him.

There was never a challenge for him. I wish I was that woman again. The woman that loved with complete abandon. Instead, I've become this woman with a whole bunch of "crippled cells" and a whole lot of reservations in my second attempt at true LOVE.

So he's gone. I call my boss and call in sick for the next couple of days. There was no way I'd be able to keep a straight face at work. I was the supervisor in the office and I knew I wouldn't fulfill my duties. The very next day, I went to a womans shelter and volunteered my time. The best way to forget your worries is to serve someone less fortunate than yourself. You will see that no matter how hard you think life is, there is someone that suffers even greater than you. I had so much to be grateful for even though my cells were being crippled and my mind was being mangled.... me heart broken and just getting totally stomped on... I still had it better than a whole bunch of folks.
When I returned to work, I didn't have much to catch up on. My staff was sooo well trained that they functioned EXCELLENTLY with or without me. Of course this made it easy for me to be promoted! But that's another story. In the days following the announcement of my divorce, I headed straight to the bar or the liquor store. It seemed that the only thing that could contain my sorrows was the bottle. Heineken, Steinlager, Bud Light, Tequila Sunrise, it didn't matter, they were all worthy company.
On many occasions prior to the signing of divorce papers, he'd call me. The calls were usually the same every single time.

"What are you doing?" he'd say.
"Nothing. What do you want?"
He'd reply, "I just called to check on you, to see how you're doing."
"Why? Why do you want to know? Why do you care?" and then I'd start crying.
And being the man that he is, he'd say, "Don't start that crying mess. I'm not tryna hear that. Do you think this is easy for me?"
"What did I do wrong? Tell me how I can make it better. Can't we try again? I'll move wherever you want me to. Just tell me how you need me to love you. I want to be that woman!" I was pitiful. And of course by this time, I'm a complete wreck and I can't catch my breath.
"Look, don't cry. This is hard enough as it is."
"Where did I go wrong? Why don't you love me anymore?" I'd beg him to answer.
"It's not you. It's me. You're a good woman. I just can't be with you anymore."

Those conversations usually left me breathless, shaking and in tears. I hated it. I hated him for coming back to me after two years of being separated to try and work it out only to leave me again. I hated myself for allowing him to do it to me. Hindsight being 20/20, I'm glad he left me. I just didn't have the guts to do it. I thought I loved him and was being a good woman by being ever faithful. What I was, was WEAK! I had allowed this man to dictate my life. Is that was love is?

Nine days after the announcement that he wanted to divorce me, we were signing papers. He still had my house key so I told him that I'd meet him at the apartment. I didn't contest the divorce so I hadn't retained a lawyer so we didn't need to sign with any lawyers present.

As soon as I walked into the house, I could feel him there. I could smell his scent. I convinced myself that the only way to get through this was to be a pillar of strength. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to beg. I just wanted to sign the papers and for him to leave. I walked into the house, headed straight for the stereo and pressed play. Wouldn't you know it, the song playing was Lifetime by Maxwell. If you get a chance, go read the lyrics. This was my life!

He was sitting on my bed sipping a 40-ounce of Colt45. Very little was said and really, there was no use in prolonging the moment. We went into the kitchen and there, on the counter, was the divorce contract. I read through it. We had NOTHING together. No real estate. No children. No bank accounts. No bills. NOTHING. All we had was a marriage certificate and a trail of hurt that pointed to that man being in my life. The only error on the paperwork was his social security number. Even in our final days of marriage, I still had to clean up after him. I pointed to the error and he noted it. I tried stalling in hopes that in a few minutes he'd change his mind but it was becoming apparent that signing these papers was inevitable.

I was strong through the entire process until we got to the last page. The last signature. As I put my pen to the paper, the tears welled up in my eyes, the burning in my stomach began and then I lost it. He was standing across me on the other side of the counter. I just stared at him after I signed it. He stared back at me. If he read the story behind my eyes then he saw how much I still loved him yet there was only silence standing between us.

All the good things that happened, since the first time we laid eyes on each other, flashed through my mind. Our first kiss. His first love letter to me. Our first date. The first time we made love. The first time he said I love you. The nights we dreamed together about marriage and kids. The day he proposed marriage. The times he was there when I was in court helping to prosecute the man who raped me. The day we got married. Our first place together. Our wild dates as husband and wife. ALL.THE.LOVE.

The flood of emotion was overwhelming and I'm sure he was flashing through a wealth of memories as well. I was so sad in that moment. I wanted to tear up all the junk I just signed but he had to be the one to do it. The alternative ending had to be his choice. We just stared at each other through all of the flashbacks. And I knew. I knew that this TRULY was our ending. There would be no alternative.
I put the paperwork back in the envelope that it came in and I walked up to him. We hugged. I put my head on his chest, as I've always done. Tears streaming down both of our faces. His arms around me in a loving embrace. He tried to kiss me but I turned my head. (Where did he get the nuts to even try?)

"I'll ALWAYS love you," he said. "We'll always be friends."

Then we let go of each other and he walked out the door. That was the last time I seen that man.
Here I am, nearly two and a half years later and those events still bring tears to my eyes. I don't regret having had to experience those "crippled cells" because it makes me who I am today. I do, however, hold him responsible for stealing my ability to love with COMPLETE ABANDON.

Fa Real... Goodbye!

I've said it before but I really mean it today. Goodbye!

Fa real this time. No games. No questions. It may not be forever. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? What I KNOW today is that I cannot and refuse to live my life in two worlds.

I say goodbye to a string of heartache and trade it for REAL commitment. I trade "the life" for peace of mind. There is no battle anymore about old loyalties and sacred vows. My eyes, our eyes are ever focused on the same goals and that has made all the difference. So today, I really mean it, Goodbye!

I really do hope you find happiness. I have never wanted anything less for you. I have always told you that I want you to be happy even if it meant that happiness would lead you away from me. And it did. Well, as it turns out, the grass wasn't greener on the other side because you came back to me, hoping I'd take you back as I always have before. But I didn't! After you put me on the selling block, I loosed myself from the shackles that weighed me down.... and didn't turn back. So today... though I've said it before -- I really mean GOODBYE.

Though I credit you for teaching me so much and being there for me through some of my darkest days, the counter balance is that you have hurt me also. I'm not angry about having experienced all the pain and heartache because it has only prepared me to accept and appreciate the goodness I enjoy today.

It wasn't all hurt, you have put smiles on my face many times. Do you remember that Valentines Day... we got ready to go out but ended up slow dancing in our living room all evening long. We had champagne flutes filled with Becks beer. We ended up making love on the living room floor. Every single time we made love was magic even the time when I knew it was OVER. I cried when we were done because I knew in my heart that our chaotic love affair was finished. So, though I knew back then that we were through, though I've said goodbye a thousand times before.... today, I really mean it!

Goodbye.

I Remember Being This Broken Down...

okay... i remember being this sad way back when. i wrote this little poem... if you wanna call it that for a man i thought i was wisely investing my time. 9 years later... i finally let go and am now VERY happy with someone else.


All Of This

I sit and watch my life pass me by
A necessary sacrifice

And I willingly give this to you
I give you the rest of forever

I give my womanhood
And the right to bear children

I give you my youth
The best days of my life

I promise to wait patiently
Standing strong as your support system

I grant you the comfort of my love
As the steal beams in your house

I'll be second in your world
If it means that someday I'll be your one and only

I'll be our future while you care for your past
If it means you'll return to me eventually

I set you free, **insert name**
I unchain you from my selfish love

All of this
For the opportunity to love you

For the chance to be the center of your world
In the hopes that all will be as it was
You and I
i don't take back any hurt i've known. it only prepared me for all of the goodness that i enjoy now.