She says

 That I have Hutzpah.

I'm still mad at everything and chewing through wicked impostor syndrome.  Weird to see yourself through someone else's eyes and think

"Yea, I guess I did kinda do that" thing someone else remembers--and another person that loves you knows you for.

Anyway. Smoked WAY too much tonight and bottled mead to give away.  Those two boys are old men now still talking mad trash trying to throw each other under the bus.  

Ones the sad man at the strip club trying to con you into giving a free dance.  The others that guy everyone thinks is an asshole but cracks his face into a smile like the sun does cloudy skies. 

I just cant with that gossip shit when it gets ugly.

I'm playing with the idea of samskara.  Learning quietly.  I tell no one.

Moved

To a more secure location.

Homework

This weeks homework is a few parter:

-meditate
-remember meditation as a form of rescue
-talk to your coworkers

I packed a lunch. It makes me nervous.

Dreams

Did good today.
Started thinking about all My dreams again. The things I wanted for Us as a Family.

And I got so happy. And everything seemed like it would be OK.

Izzie would have her tower room, not far from mine. The house would run on a slope, like an anthill, or the Louve, so that when I got old I wouldn't have to wrestle with the stairs.

I had it so mapped out, so perfect. I felt good enough to go into the garden and do some weeding.

And then I thought about you.  How you have my original drawings.  And how much you meant to me. And all of it was a fabrication.

I wished you love. And I wished you happiness. Despite what you did to me, I wished you health.

But there's this hole here that I cannot rectify.

I drew the originals so large because I knew we would need our own spaces. 

I thought sticking by you would make it happen. I really did.

I was so stupid. And that integral part of everything Id built up, the theory and parts are there, but the one I was building it for.

Hes gone. Maybe he was never there. Izzie will grow up, and move away--and ill be in this place that took me years to create. Without the one that inspired it. 

Goddamnit, it was worth it.

Today

I was really angry.

But it was a good, igniting anger instead of the kind that bogs you down.

I actually caught myself smiling with my lip to the side...like I remember doing when I was having a good time.

A facial expression came back.

Yay!

The Self in Concrete

This shit trips me out.

I have been told to stop trying to care for everything in order to avoid introspection. When Im being hyper-vigilant-- think about me First.

I protested and deflected and tried to change the subject. But she kept bringing it back around. 

You think too much.
But
About others.

Think. About. You.
What. Is. Best. For. You?

Why does that notion fill me with fear?

You know what

I don't fucking "got this"

Im falling apart.
Im crying at work months later.
She's lost everyone and the only reason im dangling by the tiny thread I have left is because I can't fathom the guilt that would be leaving her as well.

Ive asked for help
At every juncture
From every available avenue.

And there is nothing.

Maybe just not being ok is where im going to live for the rest of this turn around my life.

Maybe ill watch her pine for him forever. Because I can't make these pieces fit into something I can live with.

It all happened. And I replay it over and over again. Saying "why" , desperate to turn back the time, but knowing that wouldn't have stopped what is happening now.

How far back would I have had to go? In my past?  In his?  In ours?

All I wanted were daisies. To have the promises kept. To find a way. I laid the groundwork.  But the whole foundation was faulty. Castles built in the sand.

I started a memorial page.  To treat it like the death that this is. Away from eyes, but connected enough that it could be found.

Come back. Come back. Here,  the path. I cannot walk it for you, and every step here is on broken glass where I cannot find the ground.  Im trying--