who would i be
if my tender heart
didn’t break so easily?
who would i be
if i didn’t fall in love
& love & love & love?
it would be nice to
i hope i never have to
so i’ve drawn me as a mermaid, as a unicorn, and riding a dragon. i thought, you know what i haven’t been? a centaur.
misha says to me, “i love this picture so much.”
& that’s just the love i need.
three quarters of my face is my favorite face.
i just read that people who are raised with trauma as the norm get freaked out when things are not stressful.
i think i am in that place.
i was working on this last night. i felt sad doing it. i mean, it’s my way of putting dusty in the ground so he can’t hurt me anymore…but i still wish it were a different reality where i didn’t have to put dusty in the ground in order to feel safe.
so i saw the real dusty on monday to get the minions back. i started talking about how i had a couple of local WWOOFers interested in helping out on the homestead. dusty then got really quiet & weepy-eyed. when i asked if he was okay, he said it wasn’t the right place to talk.
then he texted me today to talk.
i hate talking on phones. of course he knows this, but never makes it so we can talk in person & refuses to have written correspondances.
so i called him.
he wanted to know why i had tear streaks on my face when i came to pick up the kids. i honestly answered, “i don’t know. i am just generally sad.” which i am. not the greatest way to be, but i am. i am also generally happy. i told him, “i am sad about ways my life has gone.”
then he asked other stuff and before long we were in an argument.
he wants me to still love him & still want him.
i want to feel safe.
he is upset that i am turning to strangers for help when he is willing to help.
but his help comes with too much baggage.
and emotional abuse.
i told him that he has “narcissistic tendencies.”
then when i was talking about how i have to watch what i say around him & don’t want to have to change my personality to avoid misunderstandings with him he basically said, “who’s narcissistic now?”
so you might understand why it is just easier to use a katana….
i have started doing rough drafts because i really don’t like using pencils…even blue ones. so this is the rough for my next page.
are you excited?
(and a little sad)
before i met & married dusty and had an on-again/off-again dysfunctional relationship from hell with him…i had a practice run for two years with his kentucky twin.
in 1996 just after i lost the best boy i’d ever known, i fell in with this narcissistic, emotionally abusive asshole.
it should have just been a rebound…but he was so good at manipulating me that it lasted for two awful years. he conned me out of thousands of dollars, put my ego in the crapper, and cheated on me like crazy.
this poem was written about six months in.
i should have read these journals back when stuff started going funny with dusty. i had no idea what a narcissist was–not really. nor that they preyed on people like me…people with too much empathy.
i had no idea.
i thought it was love.
just like i thought it was love that kept me with dusty no matter how much of a fuck he was to me.
i should publish these journals as a warning.
when i was in my early twenties
a therapist tried to get me to
& to figure myself
i skipped town
& went on a cross-country
20 year long
after a year (or more–depending)
of no men
i have found that i am doing that work
i have always had the hobby
but with only four kids to distract me
i can really get work done
& you know what i figured out?
i am still
still that twenty-something
year old girl
i am still her
but now–now i have learned
how to be her
how to be true to her
how to be the best me
i know who i am now
i am silly & sad
i am fierce & fantastic
i am passionate & magical
i am a fucking unicorn
i have been reading my journals from when i was in my twenties. it is different this time than from any time before when i have looked back, even a few months or a few moods, to see what i wrote.
even in the journal i am reading the younger me complains about previous entries–dismissing herself as melodramatic & dumb.
but not this time.
this time i find myself enjoying my journals, seeing my humor & my warmth, my passion and my ridiculous amount of hope.
thinking i was a pretty cool person.
i guess my self-portrait art journal project worked.
also, my exploration of my feelings for the long-ago boyfriend who captured my heart & never let it go again.
accepting all that. accepting myself warts & all. accepting my socially bizarre attachment to someone who is no longer in my life.
all of it.
it brought something to light for me.
it brought me to light.
i totally accept me
i completely love me
& i ridiculously celebrate me.
i’ve been thinking a lot about “letting go.”
i let go of you the minute i saw you behind the bar cleaning your brand new belly button piercing. you were gorgeous.
it wasn’t even a conscious thought. it was a reflex. perfect people don’t want me. i’m damaged. i’m trouble. i’m too much work & not pretty enough for it.
so i didn’t give you a second thought. a neurotic thought. instead i just talked to you. acted as if i had nothing to lose. because i had nothing to lose. a girl like me would never get a chance to lose a boy like you.
so i let go. i never thought–ever–of you as someone who could fall in love with me…so i never fell in love with you.
we became friends.
& you were the best of friends.
god you were so much fun.
& then you fell for me.
why? why did you fall for me? why me? when you are perfect & beautiful & not damaged…why would you fall for someone like me?
i am none of those things.
& i had already let you go because it doesn’t make any sense.
any sense at all.
that someone like you would fall for someone like me.
we liked to say
that we were bigger than the beatles.
& when things were good
i believed we were unstoppable
but that damaged part of me
that damaged part
was just waiting for the day you would leave me
one way or another
i knew that day would come
so i kept letting go
over & over & over
hurting both of us in the process….
after i lost you
i kept letting go. over & over i “let go” of you.
over & over.
i never let go of you at all
& i never will.
i thought loving you made me weak
i have never been
update…i found a drawing i did of this photograph–done from the photograph–back in a journal from 1995/96. so i remembered the photograph slightly wrong.
but my sentiment still stands.