I am right.
He is so very empty.
If he were truly in recovery, if he truly had emotions left, he would be 3 – 5 days a week working on his issues, and moving heaven and earth to make this up to me.
Instead, he is busy moving on.
He cannot face his actions, and the truth that he is still sneaking. He thinks he might get better, or at least not have to face the consequences of his actions, if he runs away. He may not want to hurt me any longer. But he very much doesn’t want to do the horrendous work it would take to make things right.
The easy path.
This rejection is so very hard for me to take.
I have never felt so cheated and lied to and rejected and hated in my entire life.
One woman mentions that she thinks it is so difficult because the ‘nice’ man was so nice. But he is only ‘nice’ because he has a place to stuff his emotions until they boil up and then he runs to drug them back down again. I think there is something about their inner damage that we give a piece of our soul to them. That is why it is so hard. We don’t realize how much we have given over.
I felt stronger, much stronger, after meeting with Abigail. We practice our relationship techniques, try honing our skills at communication and guaging another’s suitability and picking up the clues as to whether this person is a good bet or not.
To roll the dice.
No guarantees, not do overs, no money back.
Life is unsafe. We try to make safety nets, to build a safe place. Fantasy. Yet, we manifest that which we choose, energy incaranate, reality on a stick.
I must manifest that I am the place to be. I am where anyone would want to be. I certainly want to be here. What I do is how it should be done. I am strong, and worthwhile, and rising from my ashes.
I have been dreaming more and more of training. Last night was about a castle, where we were training in witchcraft. I was a n instructor even. A girl came in having let her emotions run ragged in the forest. Ursula? Solange? Our maiden from the Gift? I could sense it, could hear the beast wailing from the raggedy woods. Brother would not let us light the fire for the barbeque until she had come clean to us, her sisters. Yes, she had been very upset, something with her sister, and she had gone to the woods and taunted the beast there until it cried out. She made it as pained as she was. She felt better after opening up, and we discussed how her emotions were her magic, and if they were strong but directed she could do anything. We showed her the dying vines around the archway, and she brought them back to greenery with a slow waving of her hand. Then brother let us light the match to light the fire, and ‘Alfred’ from Dark Knight gently shoed us away to let him handle the cooking while we went to bond and do our witch things. There was more previous in the dream, more learning about witch craft. The nights were warm and lovely, and the company grand, and the dream busy and tiring but very positive. Perhaps I am being trained again. I think that was last night, as well. And so many dreams I am dancing in my lovely spiral.
If I am to be a shaman and energy worker, I must give myself over to it.
A woman who can see angels. And, though I do not doubt she had much skill from her heritage before, her vision was opened not by near death, but by a deeply focused meditation of giving and healing of herself. I can believe. If I believe, all things are possible.
I want to believe.
I wanted to believe in him.
I must accept and believe in myself.
Empty only means there is space to move, and space to grow.
I am tired.
I am empty.
I am so deeply sad.
I wonder if most of this is my pride. That I would choose so poorly. That I would be so blind. That I would choose someone beneath me and they still dump me. That I cannot find a way to make him want to fix what he so carelessly destroyed. That I gave so much that I deserve so much in return. That is isn’t fair life isn’t fair. That he promised. He said so.
I am the place to be.
I am golden light and energy whirling into existence.