Sex is OFF.

He can’t make it.

I am oddly relieved.

Yes, I want sex.  But I feel empty about this opportunity.  I have plenty of life projects to keep busy with.  Now that he is out of town, I feel freer.  I can sew in the living room while I watch TV without worrying about him walking in and triggers flaring like tennis balls hitting me in my blindspot.  I can enjoy time with my son without worrying that he will walk in and my smile will fade as my hearts hardens and sinks like a stone in the river of my emotions.  I can mow without feeling unhappy that I am doing something that he would approve of.  Wierd, but I don’t like doing things that make him think I am happy.  Which is stupid, really, because I WANT to be happy.  I want to enjoy life again.

Him in my life creates pain.  His angst and misery and and deep depressions and addictions are so oppressive.  I felt some of the oppression always, but was strong enough to rise above it.  I tried to be a light.  But he dug deeper into the black.  He hates life too much. 

Maybe he’ll decide to become a Buddhist monk.  I could stand to be dumped for monkhood.  That is a bigger calling, a bigger issue to be lived.  I would be very cool with that.

My life continues.

I have a party to check out tonight.  Doors to pick up Saturday.  Mowing to do the rest of Saturday.  A wand to make on Sunday, and maybe a ritual.  And laundry, there is always laundry.   And another ritual which is right up my alley on August the 19th – 21st. 

I hear the signs.  No sex with that man, so that is done.   Rituals galore and one of them with my chosen Goddess name.  Soul retrievals, meditations, organizing my life so I can organize my inner working.  I am reorganizing my soul, too.  Boundaries, storage, workspace.  I hope I can get back to the house projects, too.  I have plenty to get done.

I want to write again, too.  Very much.  I want company over for dinner.  I want friends to stay the night in a lovely guest room.  I want a nice bathroom for myself, and finished bedroom.  I want to simplify some, clear out the old clutter and keep only that which pleases me.  I will be moving soon enough, and must prepare this time.  I must enjoy what I have now, knowing that it is only temporary.

Today, I can breathe.  Today, life is…. well…. better.

God/dess’, I feel so much lighter!

Do I really want him back?  Do I want him to accept me just so I can reject him in return?  That would be very cruel.  I know I can be cruel, and I am responsible for taking back my own cruelty.  Yes, a piece of me wishes that.  But mostly, I just wish he would show me how much he wanted me.

Yet, his oppressive, dark nature will not change.  He is morose and miserable and I do not see that changing.  Intense, artistic, self destructive…. is that what I crave?  Well, he is not creative, nor intense, just morose and miserable.  He chose not to be happy.  I really, really, want to bring joy into my life.

Breathing is really nice!

I meditated in the yard last evening.  I so enjoyed feeling the change in the temperature of the air as the front slowly moved in.  I could feel the cool and damp below my shoulders, and with small gusts and time I could smell it at my nose, then it rose like a tide to encompass me entirely.  I could feel the atmosphere’s giddy whirl as it was pulled and teased and twisted by the Earth racing beneath it.  Dragged along but never able to catch up.  And on my way home last night, as I reached my Jeep, a scent from nowhere, not the bright blue scent like washing detergent, but a leafy green scent, with a hint of mint. 

All these things I wish I had someone to share them with.

I will share them with you, my dearest Cosmic Consciousness.


Maybe I will finally feel my calling, after all these years.  Maybe I will quit floundering about in the spiritual fens and find a place to call home.  Maybe I will build that energy castle after all.


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