365 days: day 219... cadence helps my heart (part 1)

As I ran today I looked down at my legs ... 

strong , moving forward , smooth ..... 

a lil buzz ran through my body, a shiver , a smile .... 

I stopped .   

I stood looking first at my thighs 

then towards the mountains .... 

breathing  

breathing .... 

in out .    

Slow.   

Breathe  slow .   

Fill up , let it go

 .... a flash memory and another twinge....

I stretched and looked around .... 

looked at my phone . 

nothing.  
I rubbed my palms down my thighs
Keep running, it will stop

Ch ..... ch......ch.... 

the sound of the gravel crunching as I run in almost perfect cadence to the metronome 

...180 .... 

my feet remember the stride as my mind drifts again ....

Your hand reaching with ease to the passenger side and arriving perfectly on my thigh .   

Warmth and slight heaviness,

a gentle squeeze and movement that was so comfortable I didn’t flinch .   

I looked down at that hand, as you drove to nowhere with the other.... 

not looking at me or changing expression. 

a gesture that now has me unsteady within its memory.

I traced your fingers along the top, felt the soft spot between the thumb and finger,

touched your ring.

your hand moving to hold mine,

perfectly fitting.

cadence....cadence....look out, lean forward...

for a mile the breath comes uneven then starts to find it's place with the legs and heart.

mind begins to wander again.

keep running towards the horizon...

walking quietly side by side, not speaking, unsure

your hand grazes my back with a protective like move as the door opens.

the back of our hands graze each other with closeness and I feel your finger latch lightly around mine. 

weakness....don't move away...

faster I run and break cadence, fuck it, running to a visual point in the distance.

running as fast as I can telling my brain to not stop running until I am there.

I run faster and faster in order to be done.

done

I can't breathe 

I stop and bend over, holding my side...

the tears come, hot and dry quickly in the heat.

my heart heaves with lack of breath

strong legs,

keep moving forward.

I can't 

breathe

my brain throwing thoughts left and right

why has this happened 

it's ok

you are ok

I look at my phone again.

nothing

again

except a running timer saying to move.

telling me to move

come on

do something

I start to head back

tears burning my eyes.

that feeling

a feeling my touch can't fix.

a feeling that comes so often now I want to scream

my stride has shortened and my cadence is off

I walk and my breathing is uneven 

walk, breathe, walk, breathe

hands on my waist

I squeeze 

feeling 

what you

felt

mind wanders

pull me towards you

pushed back against the car

hands lifting me up and wrapping around me

gently sitting me onto the seat of the car.

breathe, breathe, breathe 

looking at the mountains 

I know life is beautiful

life is complicated

but it is also 

often

tragically perfect

undeniably

perfect

write ya later,

xo,

m

ps I write letters, I write so many letters and they sit in a folder waiting to either destroy me or destroy someone else.

the heart is a lonely hunter some may say, 

but my heart is a beautiful writer

365 days: Mirrored Life and No More Public Sadness

2 weeks and my soul is still very heavy.

I went to bed yesterday at 6:40pm and woke at 8am....

Still tired, aged 1000 years and my list of shit I need to accomplish continues to grow.

I took this picture to remind myself I am still alive...

My son is still alive....

and my heart is still beating.

all the cocktails in the world will not help

my drug days are way over (thank you)...

Talking to people really doesn't help, because all it does is push people away in an awkward manner

and 

ignoring myself apparently will not help 

I have told myself this morning, as I drink my green smoothie, get ready for going down my list and accomplishing things such as brushing teeth, eating a solid food, going outside, laundry (because I stink), and try to exercise...

I tell myself that I am not going to be that friend people want to ignore after today.

My life is not that heavy and my problems should be mine and mine alone.

But I am going to share a one sided story.

Then I will say my thanks to the people I love.

I was Elliot.

I lived the life of bars, strip clubs...poor choices in men.

is it a gene? is it a lack of fatherly love?

who knows. 

Was I sexually abused by my dad?  NO

The neighbor boy up the street? Yes...

but I thought it was a game....

I have never been a victim.

even after being raped by a man I knew,

 who broke into my apartment while I was at work and waited for me.

my fault...

play the game and recover...

These people in my life were poor decisions and I set myself up for bad shit to happen.

I was young.

I was headstrong

and I didn't care for myself a whole hell of a lot.

I worked precarious jobs, but was always smart enough to not get too involved.

I worked with questionable people,

but again....

stayed solo in my life...

hopping from situation to situation with close friends often not even knowing where or what I was doing.

did I do drugs?  yes.  

with the promise I would never shoot-up...

I never did...

but, you can get the same effect smoking or snorting.

Waking up in people's house and not knowing where you are...

wrong side of town...

outside in a yard...

with blood pouring from a knife slice from someone I trusted...

 and a scar not even a tattoo can cover

funny stories, now....kind of...

Somehow I avoided death and the addictive gene.

I begged my soul for help to be stronger, and to not want so much...

I wrote letters to myself...

reminders...

you got this

all by your self....

you got this.

I knew (know) I was (am) a broken person.

wanting to be loved more than anyone can actually give.

I finally left that town...Atlanta.

I escaped... 

moved to the mountains in Colorado

I got a day job

I milked goats.

Someone who did not know a thing about me gave me chance waiting tables in a breakfast place.

I didn't have access to drugs...

I didn't have access to friends...

I was horrifying lonely...

sad...

really sad

I lapsed a few times with poor decisions...

but I made it.

here I am....

and maybe that is why I am so saddened for the death of Elliot.

Because I saw her resume sitting on the table that morning when the police asked me to go in and look around. 

She was trying.

She constructed an entire resume outlining her strengths and work ethic.

To go from nightlife

to the safety of day life.

but she did not make it

stuck in the night.

That is my short version of my story.

Many parts of my life are very secret.

laughable and haunting.

here I am at 50.

looking into a time machine of a young girl who was living my life and many other's

poor choices...

heartbreakingly lonely

and a young man who couldn't fix or love her enough

Elliot/Ashton

photo by : Ilin Blue

this is my last day of horrible public sadness.

It does no one any good....

I am thankful for the few friends who  have come to me....

 even though I say to stay away...

I'm good.

so thankful.

My dreams and thoughts still take me to the comfort of that certain someone else...

 multiple times a day

comfort, safety, and warmth...

and quiet...

wanting to escape to the safety of strong arms...

💙

last day...

My kids need me

Her mom needs me

I think I need myself

write ya later

xo,

m

unlocking your inner voyeur

I'm sure I've said this before, but I'll say it again,.......I'm a voyeur!!! I admit it! Sometimes I come to work, to do work,but instead I voyeur (if you can use this as a verb).

It usually starts quite innocently, then before you know it I have wasted 5 hours clicking thru blogs from people in Ecuador or Japan. I can't control myself when the little button at the top of the screen says "next blog". (go try it when you are done reading this) I look at other people's art projects, their poetry, pictures, family rants, even accidentally came across someones Kama Sutra how to pictures...note: be prepared to click quickly if you are at work, you never know what the next page holds, there is NO warnings.

I have always been like this, interested in others lives or secrets. I gave one of my secrets to a girl at work one day when she was really down in the dumps.

I said," you know what will cheer you up?"
She reluctantly said ,"What?"
"Go here, www.bch.org and click on the nursery page....
pick any day, any name and look...i swear to God you won't be able to do just one, unless there truely is something wrong with you....and if that's the case, call me back; I'll think of something else."

Well, about 25 minutes later she called me from her desk and when I picked up the phone, this is what I got

"I truely hate you."
"I have work to do and now I can't quit smiling or clicking to look at every day and every god awful outfit they subject these wee ones to!"

I know, it's minute, but it does make me happy...and my secret gang of baby spies....I actually got a call from the same girl yesterday when she knew I was having a bad day, she said ,

"I think the nursery is BROKE!!!!!" I can't get IN!!!!!"

Which of course made ME stop doing my work and head to the secret website to see if I could get in....thank god we figured it out and spent the next 40 minutes clicking thru February.

Now that is a true friend. Truely....

It goes on, I'm sure if I didn't think someone would know, I would try to click into peoples private lives. I have always wanted to look at the Tommy Lee/Pam Anderson video...but what if I can't stop? So I don't look at that type of stuff....not because I don't want to, but because I would be trying to see what they had for furniture, what was on their book shelf, what type of drinks they are drinking....you know the normal stuff.

I love that people like this http://needleworksinc.blogspot.com/ take the time to take pictures and post them....just for me...isn't it pretty?

Well, if you come across and nice voyeur topics...send them my way.
back to work.

xo
m