missrenie: (Default)
 It fucking pours

I really hate that expression.  It sounds so pessitimitic.  I want to punch the people in the throat that use it.  But since I already feel like I have been punched in the throat I'm  totally gonna use it.

~Saturday
I wake up bleeding from my vagina.  Since I have not had a natural period in ten years my first thought is "Holy shit I didn't play that hard at the dungeon did I?!"  I force myself to calm down because I have to get to work.  And I heal quickly anyways sooo by Sunday I should be fine.

~Sunday
I spend the first part of Sunday curled up into a ball because it feels like some sadistic bastard grabbed my uterus and started squeezing maybe I did play to hard!!! I call my playmate and ask her if she noticed anything funny on Friday.  To which she said no and asked if I was having my period.  At this point I am embarrassed.  Bleeding profusely, cramps, head aches, motion sickness, craving: red meat, chocolate, sex, the mass slaughter of those found guilty of being stupid...duh!

"Was it always like this?" I moan over the phone.  The answer is yes.

~Monday
Aside from losing so much blood that I am simultaneously fascinated and horrified I  develop general malaise and laryngitis just in time for public speaking. Instead of being down about all these schenaigains I'm pissed.   I'm raising my fist in defiance at a sadistic Matronly Mother Goddess screaming "How could You!?  This is one of the grooviest things I've gotten to do in my life.  Speaking as  part of a panel regarding Healthcare in the GLBTQ community.  I thought You liked us!!!"  

She must have found my  ranting hilarious because the bleeding reached level ridiculous.... by 3pm  I'd lost so much blood that I feel faint. On my way home from work I make a desperate phone call to Terick who comes over to find me half dead and half dressed on the floor of my room.  He gets me dressed, hydrated, out the door, to my destination and back home again with zero super dickery and tons of compassion.

"You're a good man" I say as he tucks me in
"You're opinion will change when you're better"  He assures me
"Fuck you... if I say you are a good man then I mean it you bastard"
"There's the Irene we all know and love"  he kisses my forehead with practiced condescension while I make a feeble attempt at smacking him but I'm weak and tucked in far too well to do so.  So I hiss instead and fall right off to sleep.

~Tuesday
14 hours later I wake up
go to work
go back to sleep for 4 hours at work
work for 3
go home
go back to sleep

Its Wednesday I've figured out why I get the laryngitis.  I'm a mouth breather with sever allergies and the immune system of a decrepit old woman in a dark and dingy cell.   The solution: keep my fucking mouth closed when around allergens like pollen and cats and buy a humidifier.    Waaaay  harder than it sounds trust me.... the keeping my mouth closed bit.

The blood loss seems to be tapering off so my energy level has picked up
and I no longer want to eat dead cows
or strangle two year olds
or the stupid which is especially significant and noteworthy since I'm headed to Reno to dance at a club opening this Saturday.

wish me luck ;)
missrenie: (Default)
 
Press play
then proceed
*
*
*
*
*

I thought I had gotten past it… that I wasn’t going to cry about it again.  But I heard this song and I was there

 

On that morning. 
I am so emotional. 
I am so searching for a sign. 
I am so wanting to stay.

I come into the room
lean over the bed and
kiss your forehead.

You blink the way you normally do in the mornings ...
with wide white unfocused eyes
brows furrowing.

You stretch your hands above your head
Hitt the wall behind you
you smile up at me.

You say good morning
I say good morning
even though I mouth goodbye

You say "I'm sleeping beauty"
and I say "You certainly are"

 

You get up and start your computer
You don’t see me look back at you
You don’t see the tears in my eyes

 

You don’t seem to notice
That this isn’t just another Saturday
That I’m not coming back today
You didn’t ask me to stay

 

It’s quiet

 

~~~
And it'll be just as quiet when I leave
As it was when I first got here
I don't expect anything
I don't expect anything
I don't expect anything to change when I leave
~~~~~




missrenie: (Default)


The message was a few lines:

Yeah, it is time for me to wish you happy birthday again, without having seen you for a year.  So much happened in your life since I’ve seen you and I don’t know the half of it.  Sigh

Hope you aren’t hiding in a hole and are out there living the good life. Lots of people love you a lot and you need to keep in touch with them!  SoCal? Really?  What’s up with that?  Anyway, if you want to know about my life, you have to tell me about yours.

 

I typed in "Nothing much I'm a massage therapist now :)" and almost hit send.

But I didn't
Alot has happened.
Alot has changed. 
To say oh nothing would be a gross understatement.  So I told her what happened to me.... in third person.   Not because I am an ego maniac, but because its really too painful to think of myself as this stupid.
It helped... it truly helped

Because now I know where I have been
Although I can see where I am going
Even if I'm far from certain of where I’ll end up
That's just fine with me

Because I made it  here… I am exactly where I need to be.

Where I am supposed to be  and where I chose to be.

 

 

 __Our Story so Far__

 

 

We last left our unlikely heroine in San Jose.  It was the end of February 2007  beginning of March.  She had just successfully:

-gotten one of her friends out of a physically and emotionally abusive relationship, 

-reluctantly left her stable albeit low paying job at the law firm to navigate the unpredictable torrid waters of  Los Angeles at  her fiancées enthusiastic and guilt riddled request

-sold or giving away 90% of her personal belongs in preparation for the relocation

- and moved in with his parents.

-and is engaged in an open relationship with fiancee and said from above friend.


Two weeks later (still in withdrawal from the massive ego high of playing the moaner) she is working at Walgreens  i.e. the "Pit of Despair".   Her fiancée who is unemployed and has been since November of 2006  is depressed and mentally MIA due to the apparent fall through of the LA thing (soon to be termed the “Great LA Fiasco of 2006”) . This leaves her to fend off debit collectors, default payments, and the repo man on her lonesome.

In April  while busting her ass at Walgreens i.e suckville USA, facing financial ruin and living with her fiancée’s dysfunctional family  her fiancée is not only passing his time crawling into World of Warcraft the way some manic depressives crawl into a bottle but also crawling into the “friend” she helped out of dire situation.  Although the relationship is an open one and she understands that means sex  she’s hurt… he should have been spending at least some of that time doing the laundry... this can not continue.  
She goes to speak to him about her leaving Wal-hell and instead of getting the comfort/promise to help out that she is hoping for she is cut off and mournfully inquired as to wether or not she is leaving him.


She thinks to herself that that is a brillant idea and replies enthuastically in the affirmative.
He is so overcome that he leaves her bed to go into the bed of his other partner the "friend" who comes and tells her that she will help her get back home to New Orleans.  Our heroine finally puts 2 and 2 together as the "friend" embraces her and tells her to just let it all out.   She cries but mostly out of the halirity of the situations.  She realizes that this is single white female without all the white females.

She decides to let the "friend" and former fiancee ride off into the sunset together.  She knows he will be back because... well the friend isn't her.  And she is right.  It took all of 7 days before it all went to hell for the new little unit.  The friend leaves the fiancee comes back and confesses that the friend was making him choose between them for the last few months and telling her that she was a cold, heartless, selfish and going to leave him for someone better anyway.  He now realizes that
swf has been twisting her words and manipulating him.


Our main girl realized that 8 days ago.  "Why didn't you ask me how I felt"  she asks and for the first time is really hurt.... even more than she was over the laundry.

 

His excuse

She was becoming distant

Her excuse for becoming distant

His not bringing in money, helping with the chores, or looking for a job was a personal pet peeve and massive turn-off.

 

This recent turn of events inspires her toward her own semi-dramatic mental break down (why should he get all the fun).   She quits, moves into the spare bedroom, re-evaluates her life and enrolls in massage school all with-in 48 hours.  She figures she has nothing else to lose.  Its now early May.

By the end of May she has a job that pays her twice what the other use too, her ex-fiancée is her fiancée again (our heroine is obviously injecting heroin)  and the LA job offer finally looks like it is going to go through.  She refuses to go to LA despite the pleading of the fiancée and his mother.  She realizes that she had given up way to much of her life and needs to get herself straight and on track because she can’t depend on him for anything stable.

He doesn’t go to LA without her.

It’s now July and lo and behold after eight months he finally joins her in the land of productive adults.  He gets a job.She’s overjoyed. After all last time he was unemployed it took him a year to find a job.  He’s cut his refresh rate down by 4 months!!!

They go to couples counseling.

Her week looks like this

40 hrs work
10 hrs traffic
16 hrs school
5  hrs gym
10 hrs massage application

She still comes home and does the laundry and cooking because even though he only works 25-35 hours a week and lives close to his job he forgets to do chores.  And she is too exhausted to complain.

 

It’s August and she wants to move into their own place… he suggest they wait until she finishes school.  Besides her rent money helps his mom out a lot since his dad hasn’t worked in 25 years.  It’s a good thing they do because in February he is unemployed again.  Happy New Year!!!!

 

In May 2008 she graduates from NHI.  And becomes a Certified Massage Therapist.  She has held down a 3.96 GPA and has been class leader for the past six months.  She has made wonderful friends for life, conquered an obsessive compulsive eating disorder, discovered how awesome life could be with a self esteem and started calculations regarding her own personal worth.

 

She tells him she is moving out in three months.  He can only come with her if he starts acting like a man. By late July he has a job.  But in August she starts to notice patterns, cycles, red flags, unacceptable behavior ( he fucks around on her while she's at home visiting her mother for the first time in three years) and she slaps herself.  She looks at her relationship closely and is finally able to see that 3d image 75% of the population insisted was there but she declared as a hoax.

 

There is a laundry list of things but is sums up to this.  He is not the man(baby) she wants in her life and she does not want to be the woman (mother) he needs her to be in his.  All signs point to yes, the stars are (mis)aligned… they must part ways. 

 

Since they still share a car she gives him until the end of September to get his affairs in order.  It’s a slow but friendly break up… so far.

 

Because despite everything.

 

She still loves him.

He made mistakes, she certainly has made mistakes.  They both have been selfish, and childish, easy to defer blame, accept undeserved credit and shun self responsibility.

 

She still loves him

 

In her heart she wishes things could have been different.  Nine years…for  nine years.  He has been her best friend, her lover, her partner, her shining knight, her shoulder to lean on, both crutch and hurdle, simultaneous curse and cure.

And she has been that to him.

 

She still loves him

 

But she knows her worth and has chosen to love herself more.

 

The new chapter begins this October.
All my love,
Renie

 

ps.  There are something’s I left out... like scandalous kink, moonlight skinny dipping, semi naked photo shoot, losing my car, and a brain tumor scare...  But all those things resolve themselves for the best.

 

missrenie: (Default)

 

It's easy to write about myself. 

Just myself.

It's therapy.

At one point in my life I went crazy from keeping too many secrets...

I don't want to have secrets. 

 

Secrets turn to lies and headaches so I just get it all out.  I live head deep in exhibitionism because if anyone likes me I want it to be for me.  With every flaw, for every ill shaped notion, for every crude word and weakness.  I do this because while I love acting I hate pretending.  I hate people pretending to be something they are not.  You get close to them and find out that they are someone completely different.  I don't want to do go through that.  So I don't do it. 

 

I live out loud.

I don't have secrets… I have the occasional delusion but I don't have secrets.

Just myself

 

It's easy to write about myself.

But I can't write this without writing about you.  So I will write it to you.  Even though we've already had this conversation months ago.  I will write it to you. And if you read this… when you read this I hope you forgive me. Just like you've forgiven every flaw, every ill shaped notion, every crude word and weakness. 

 

 It's been heaven, it's been hell.  It's been wonderful, it's been a war and there are casualties on both sides.  I need space and time and healing. 

 

You're beautiful to me… did you know that?  Did I tell you often enough? 

I love you even though I am leaving.  I really truly deeply do.  I think I always will.

 

We laugh now…easily.  Did you notice?  Ever since we talked and agreed not to emo out about this.  We agreed that since there is not enough space on the cross for both of us neither of us was allowed to go up there.  Cause it wasn't fair. 

 

What we've done to ourselves wasn't fair

What we've done to eachother wasn't fair

 

You know what else isn't fair... having to explain this to your mom.  To our other friends, to our family.  Sitting there as they shake their heads and say "I told you so" or "What a shame... we really thought you two would make it" or "You should have married eachother sooner and then you would not be going through this" or "Whose to blame?" and the worst one...the absolute worst fucking one. "Don't you love each other any more?"

 

But between you and me...

Are you excited?

Are you terrified?

Are you sad?

 

I am.

Excited about my own place, my own stuff, finally dear goddess MY OWN

 

Terrified about going it alone, stepping away from the ledge, letting go of the edge and trying to swim, daring to fly without your hand in mine, without your voice in my ear, without the safety of your net.

 

Sad because if I change too much if you change too much,   you or me or we may not want us anymore…

 

I dread the conversations we haven't even had yet.  In the future.  A year or two from now.  If you pass me by with someone on your arm and wave at me and smile that sweet smile as you introduce us to each other.  Would I blush and stutter, would I compare myself to her, would I be insanely jealous or genuinely happy… would I have someone too?

 

 

I don't blame you… well not anymore

I hope you don't blame me.

 

This is an ending

This is an beginning

We bring this chapter to us to a close

And we open a new book on ourselves.

 

maybe

one day

we can be a part of each other's story.

TLC

Mar. 21st, 2008 04:05 pm
missrenie: (Default)


I caught it.  That nasty spring time bug that has been fucking with everyone around me for the past month.  I thought I was immune to it.  I assumed I was.

One should never assume.

Which brings me to Tuesday morning.

Round One

Terick can you drive me to work?

I  need to study for my final

You don’t have to work today.  Your test is Saturday and  you can study after you dropped me off.  I am going to be late and you said last night that you would drive me.

I really need to study

You suck

Like a hoover

Nobody does it like-

Fine I’ll drive you

I don’t need your help I’ll drive myself!!

Later as Terick drives me to work I remember that I have a lady doctor’s appointment .

Round Two

Umm… thanks for driving me.

(glare)

Well ummm I have another favor to ask you.

(grunt)

I have a doctor’s appointment and I need a ride to that too.

IRENE!!! I really need to study.

And I really need your help I feel like hell frosted over.  You have the rest of the week to study.

I really feel like you are not respecting the fact that I have an important test

And I really feel like you’re not respecting the fact that I’m sick my ovaries might have died a horrible horrible death.

What time is your appointment.

Noon

Noon… so you want me to come get you, drive you to the appointment, drive you back to work and then come get you again at five.

Ummm… yes please.

(GLARE)

My doctor admitted that she had no idea what was wrong with me and that she had to run more tests.  Lots of tests and that I should come back at 5:30 to have an ultrasound.  Terick is a sport about this one.  He was in the room and got to hear what the doctor was telling me.  He flinched a little.  It was all love and cherry pie until we were leaving the hospital at 6:15

Round Three

Can you drive me to WholeFoods?

Irene I really need to study

Goddamn I’m running a fever and I just had my right ovary prodded and  poked and pushed into my kidney.  I’m  oozing  astro glide out of my poor vagina and I have the headache from Hades…

By time I finish this little rant was are pulling into the whole foods parking lot 6 miles away.  I immediately start in on this woman crossing the parking lot slow as freak because she is trying to balance her grocery bags while giving her little bitch a kiss.  Like seriously she was smooching her dog.  I was head long into laws about bestiality when Terick finally stopped me… which  is good because I didn’t truly have the lung capacity to continue due so the massive amounts of phlegm free flowing down my throat.

Irene please your being…

Being what?!

What damn’t what?! Bitchy?!

Yeah kinda

That fuck odd cause I feel like a whiny pussy… hopefully with your particular brand of TLC I will be back to being a full blown bitch in no time.

One can only hope.

Hah! Which is all I can manage because of the coughing fit that sets up shop  in my chest.

 

He makes me stay in the car to think about my recent behavior.  And while I am on this little time out  I realize that I have been somewhat unfair and angry, and over emotional.  I could blame it on lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of usable oxygen but it doesn’t matter.  I ultimately have control of myself and my actions.  So when he came back to the car I apologized for being crazier than normal.  And he apologized for being insensitive.  And I told him that I was so proud of him for what he is doing in school and I respect his need for extra time this week.  And he told me that he was proud of me for balancing work and school and massage without breaking down… present day excluded.

 He took me home, tucked me in, fed me soup, took my temperature.  He pressed his palm to my forehead, neck and heart with a look of compassion.  He smiled.  I would groan and flip him off.  How dare he be happy when I am so miserable.  He’d laugh out loud and kiss my forehead.

He peeled oranges and fed me slices, picked up tissues that had missed the trash can, brewed vast amounts of tea.  The wrong kind but the amount of honey was down to perfection.  He let me have all five pillows on the bed.  And he honest to goddess swaddled me in three blankets when I refused to rest.

He gently moved my wrist from under my head.  "Don’t sleep like that.  You’re a massage therapist, you’ll need those."  I’d groan, make myself comfortable and just before I nodded off I would feel him take my wrist from under my head and place a pillow there instead.

He put up with a wild game of drunken Nyquil charades… since I was under orders from the advice nurse not to talk.  And he didn’t chastise me for making that horrible noise in the back of my throat.  The one my aunt told me that I had better not make a habit of because no man in his right mind would ever want to marry me if I did.

I made a habit of it

I guess Terick is not in his right mind

But that’s okay cause I’m not either.

He drove me to another Dr’s appointment… we were late and had to reschedule.  He apologized.  I told him not to worry

It was nice to be outside for a bit even if I did have to listen to 45 minutes of Rush Limbah (Terick likes to know that the enemy if up to) Rush by his sheer jaskassery and shit shine personality has added himself to the list of people I’d like the spank with a strap on.  And as we drove home on 101 south with the clear Californian blue sky above us and that smog that makes the sunsets so pretty before us I mused about what type of whip I would use on Limbah and what boots would best match it.

I realized then that with Terick’s particular brand of TLC I would indeed be back to being a full blown bitch in no time flat.

This makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and loved and horny

For the first time in three days I smile

 He smiles back

Just me

Mar. 3rd, 2008 04:16 pm
missrenie: (Default)

So I'm graduating in like two months.

March, April, May 3rd BAM!  I'm certified.  I'll be given my receipt and kicked out of the womb and into world.  It's kinda sad.  I look forward to graduation.  I look forward to the completion of it.  But I love my school and I love my classmates and I love what I have become because of my school and my classmates… and well it's just a ton of honest to goddess love and happiness.  It's like ice cream.  Really good ice cream that you didn't have to buy yourself on a hot as hell day.  You love it, want more of it but you know its going to run out.  And while you are enjoying it now you can see the bottom of cone coming up. 

I'm not making much sense am I?

I blame that on the hormone therapy and the allergy meds (earth's decided to have all kinds of crazy plant sex and it's my sinuses that end up screwed)

Anyway… I graduate in two months

March, April, May 3rd and damn… Terick's freaking out. 
Since my family may be coming and he wants have everything in order.  He hasn't exactly hit it off with them and the whole LA fiasco didn't help things.   He wants to assure them that he is a good provider and all that lovely stuff.  It's important to him.  And I think it's sweet.  I'm glad he cares what they think but I'm getting annoyed.

For the past few weeks he has been trying to pin me down to go look at apartments and getting a little miffed that I don't have the time to go with him.  40hr work + 10hrs commute + 16 hours class + 8 hours externship + 5 hours gym + 6 hours general massage on personal clients= 1 bottle of strawberry Boones Farm and whole lot of I don't want to go anywhere by Sunday.   

So today he sends me this e-mail talking about getting a new car, new apartment, etc in the next two months and all the stuff that goes along with getting a new car and new apartment.  It was too overwhelming.

I almost bit my flatscreen. 

And then I think about it.  There are a lot of things in my life that I am embarrassed about right now.  Little secrets that I don't want people to know because I don't want them to think less of me.  Or think that I am crazy, insane, weird or diffrent.  I used to write these things down in a journal when ever they got to me.  But one day someone found this journal and read it to my family on conference call.   And instead of feeling angry or betrayed I felt liberated! 

I felt liberated because I wasn't hiding it anymore and honestly who in my family  is really going to come up to me and say "So… that stuff about the lesbian sex… was that all true?"  I put so much energy into hiding my deep dark secrets that it was exhausting the freak out of me and I refuse to do it again.  The worst part about this is that nobody cares about said deep dark secerts.   They are too busy trying to beat there's back into the closet with a broom.

 
So here goes.

-The car… dear gawd the car!  That's situation is so ghetto that I try not to think

about it.  (If you want the full story I am easily bribed with mojitos)
-And the fact that we are still living with his parents is another touchy issue.
- All of our belongings that are important to us can fit in the trunk of ghetto car
- I've only lost 20 pounds since October. 
-And the wedding is off for another year cause I really want it in September but I'm too exhausted to deal with it and i've only lost 20 pounds
-My hormones are still unbalanced so I still have to shave my face every other day.
-My credit is fubar (well slightly fubar)
-I still haven't figured out how to tell my future mother in law that I am pagan
-and yesterday I curled up in a fetal position and devoured an entire bar Ghirardelli dark chocolate and strawberries (strawberries are in season now).

 
but you know what aside from all that and this head cold I feel great!!!  I really do.

I told Terick that our situation is our situation.  I accept that. I acknowledge it for what it is no matter how embarrassing it is.  And I refuse to rush into fixing it just so we can say. "Look at what we did" come May 3rd.   It takes time and I want to make sure things are done correctly. 

I also told him to stop saying budget and buffet incorrectly for the next few days.  I'm hormonal and it makes me want to rip his head off because I  think about our unborn kids and how they will walk around saying things like  buuuujet and buffit.  And I seriously consider never procreating with him or doing activities that lead to procreation again.

 

 

So that's it
No witty antidotes
No life lesson
Just plain and simple and without the frills, full of imperfection and brimming with blemishes

 

Honestly,
    Just me

Ps I also love what refined ears would call bad music... Like that week I got "Paint is Black" stuck in my head.  It was not the Rolling Stones version... it was Vanessa Carlton. and I am so guilt of blasting Linkin Park while speeding down 101.  I know they only have "one song"(since they all sound alike) but it has like 30 diffrent flavors :)

missrenie: (Tree of Knowledge)

I hate me...

It’s11:15 pm on a Thursday. It’s raining. You are in the den playing World Of Warcraft, the cat’s licking her ass and I am sitting in a plush beige 3rd hand recliner in the living room of a 2 story house nestled in a suburbia which exists on the fringes of a large city in California .

The living room has shag carpet that someone told me was once orange. It might have been 25 years ago but today is an unpleasant muddy green with splotches of moldy brown. The curtains are yellow and as old as the carpet. A bowflex sits in the middle of the floor, unused, unwanted and glaring ominously at any one who passes it by.

The room is flanked by 3 bookshelves all spilling over with binders of world maps, recipes, math and English assignments, craft instructions, etc. Two plaid couches (from the late 70s?) mercifully covered by bright red table clothes, hold up the rest of the walls.

The walls themselves are plastered with a concoction of African and African American collectables, oddities and art work which start off as museum worthy then hyper jump directly into the realm of offensive and tasteless. Example: Hand carved wooden mask from Nigeria next to a green, red and white hand stitched circular pot holder that portrays a black female child in classic red lipped, moon faced, darky, pickanninny style. This is the standard décor for the rest of the 2 and ½ bathroom, 4 bedroom house. To summarize it looks as if the 70’s a Costco/Sams ( or what ever local where house supply store your familiar with) size box of Reese’s pieces, a teaching supply store and the Black Power movement got together for one wicked foursome and heaved all over the place.

The art, the carpet, the furniture, the room, the house all belong to my possibly- future -mother-in-law and is a physical manifestation of the mental and emotional abuse she endures from her husband. I used to feel sorry for her. I don't anymore. She stayed. She stayed here. She constructed her tomb. She chose to accept. I want to grab her and shake her. I want to wrap my hands around my neck and wake her up. Sometimes I even want to blame her for how my life is. If she would have demanded more of her husband and for herself you wouldn't be the person you are today right... right? That has to be the reason for it. Your father is an ass, your mother his tool and you a cross between them both.

I’m hungry. I want to stuff the hollow space within with something heavy and solid. just to pretend I'm whole. The emptiness is something food could never truly fill... but right now its close enough. I open the door to the refrigerator and look inside. It is just like the walls, just like the house, just like your mother, just like me… full of useless odds and ends, going off and in need of cleaning, in serious want of catharsis. I close the door to that little pocket of insanity and tragedy so viciously that I can hear clank of 8 13 month old salad dressings bottle cry out against eachother. Although I wonder if I have broken something I am quite certain that I do not care.


I feel destructive. This isn't good. My minds not well. I should go upstairs, sleep off or through this storm.

I might as well take a Valerian root and go to bed. I say this out loud. But the only one who hears me is the cat. Who is busily content at the moment so she could care less. I repeat my plans for retirement again, louder. And I hear you say "Go ahead I will be right up."

It's 2am before you actually comes to bed. Your feet which areicy cold from sitting in front of the window while running your latest "instance", brush against the soles of mine. I feign sleep and roll away from you but you snuggle closer and suddenly the cal king size bed isn't nearly large enough. You place your hand around my waist and slowly, slowly inches your fingers up until you are cupping my breast. Warming your frigid fingers from my body heat. I know you don't mean to be a pain. I know you just want to be close to me. But I want to cringe, I want to push you off, but I don't want to explain why.

So I lay there and I wait for your breath which comes in deep sighs to even out. I wait for you to stop your slow and gentle grinding into my back. I wait for you to sleep. And when you do I un-twine myself and push away. I'm colder than before.

I'm wide awake now.

And I'm pissed because I have to get up at 6 and go to work then leave work and go to class until 10pm and you don't have to do that.

I want to shake you. And tell you to get it together, get a real job so we can get out of this house. Get in school, get a life so I can get some respect for you. Get it together... so we can get together. Because I am so damn tired of holding our world up. So tired of being here, in this house, in this place, in this state of mind.

I want to tell you that you are killing me. That you have been killing me for five years! I want you to stop it!

But I don't. I pull the covers closer and force myself to fall asleep. In the morning I'm cuddled up next to you. It's warm, comfortable, familiar... the curve of your side against mine and the cadence of your breath, the beat of your heart.

And for five minutes right before you open your eyes, before you say good morning, I love you. I wonder if this is how your mother feels and I hate myself for it.

 

I hate this house

I hate the walls

I sometimes hate you

but most of all

I hate me

for continuing to be

here

In this house

within its walls

it's rotten, it's crumbling

it's going to fall.

Before that happen I'll come awake

I'll grab me and slap me, I'ma give me a shake

Just for now I'll sleep and grieve

But one day soon I find the strength to leave.

missrenie: (Default)

Disclaimer:  Before I go any further I want to make it perfectly clear that I do not have anything against cops but I do have something against   jack asses and son's of motherless goats.

 

 

Monday night while I was in class, Terick went to the late night Hawaiian Barbeque joint to get dinner. On the way home he was pulled over by two cops because his turn signal was whitish instead of yellowish. 

The cop asks him
"So have you ever been to jail?"
He should have responded
-Yes officer.  As a matter of fact it is a vital part of the black man's coming of age ceremony.
In reality he quite intelligently answered
-No



Later that night after he tells me this
Me: What's his * badge  *number I demand his * badge number
Terick:  just as calm as ever  Christine said the same thing
Me: * Rat bastards burn in  * hell.
Terick: Christine didn't quite say that
Me: What's his * badge number
Terick: Are you gonna go down there and
Me:  Damn skippy and hells coming with me… and by the way hell's name is Christine.

 

WTF Have you ever been to jail?!
How the hell are you going to ask someone that
Sure it was dark
Sure he is a black man in a wooly fleece hoodie
Sure he's driving a benz but WTF

Wtf wtf wtf wtf
I can't even think in words
I'm going to have to resort to emoticons soon.

 

 He still refusing to give me that * badge number


 

* Multiple expletives and/or  f-bombs shooting about  like snowflakes in a Wisconsin winter storm

missrenie: (Default)
 

5:30am

Me:      I had this really weird dream last night…

Terick: Really?

Me:      Yeah, I dreamed that I was hungry and I was looking for something to eat.  I didn't want Jack in the Box or McNasties I wanted Whole Foods but I couldn't find one so I was like- fuck it and went home.

Terick: Wow that's odd.

Me:      Why?

Terick: I had the same dream.

Me:      Really

Terick: Yep… but instead of food it was sex.

missrenie: (Default)

I never really took a look at Terick's side...
Until today I was listening to Hootie and the Blowfish that song “Let Her Cry” and I almost started crying right there at work.

She sits alone by a lamppost/ Trying to find a thought that’s escaped her mind
She says dad’s the one I love the most / But stipe’s not far behind

She never lets me in / Only tell me where’s she’s been /When she’s had too much to drink
I say that I don’t care I just run my hands/Through her dark hair and then I pray to god
You gotta help me fly away

Chorus
And just...
Let her cry...if the tears fall down like rain
Let her sing...if it eases all her pain
Let her go...let her walk right out on me
And if the sun comes up tomorrow
Let her be...let her be.

This morning I woke up alone / Found a note by the phone
Saying maybe, maybe I’ll be back some day/ I wanted to look for you
You walked in I didn’t know just what I should do/ So I sat back down and had a beer and felt sorry for Myself.
Chorus x2

Last night I tried to leave/Cried so much I just Could not believe
She was the same girl I Fell in love with long ago
She went in the back to Get high/ I sat down on my couch And cried
Yelling oh mama please Help me/ Won’t you hold my hand.
Chorus x2

And then everything became so clear... and I fell so deeply in love with him again. We have been together almost seven years... most of which have been hard. Not because we fight... but because of money issues, family issues etcetera. And because of me... oh yes Terick has his faults too but he has been by my side through so much. On the months that depression and paranoia had me so fucked up in the head that I had to stay inside all day and cringe in a corner at night. He was there when I was threatening to kill myself and placed in a mental institution. When I was incorrectly dosed on anti depressants for two years... Through the insomnia, and horrible nightmares that would wake me up screaming. And then the cutting and self abuse. And when the inward implosive anger exploded outward at him he managed to remain calm while I railed into him with horrible words, he managed to hold me when two seconds later I would crumble, reduced to nothing. He took the weight of it, pushed and sometimes pulled me back to sanity when I thought that I would just die. And when I threatened to leave... because I felt like life was too much to handle, him too much to handle, our relationship to much to handle he told me he loved me as he opened the door and stood back... hoping that I would not leave... but willing to let me go if it would help heal me.
And I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get to the point that I am at now and that he had to wait so long for me.
So relived that he did wait for me.
That he does love me
that we both survived.
When I was a little girl I wanted so much to be rescued like one of those princesses' in the Disney movies... and then as I grew older I realized that no prince was coming and that I had to save myself... and I thought that I was weak if I could not.
And somehow along the way I became the dragon and the maiden both.
And he came charging in.
Not on a white horse in gleaming armor.
But armed non the less with his charm, and grace, and tolenace. His sparkling soul, gentle touch, magnificent sense or self.
And love
so its true what they say after all
seven years to realize it
He poured his love into my dead garden and it blossomed once more
That for once love was enough and more than I ever gave it credit for.
He's been my knight
He's stepped back and let me save myself when I could
But he's always been there ready for battle
ready for me
reaching down from his steed
to pull me up besides him
to fight with him
to fight together
to love with him
to love together


Edit 10/25/2012:

Dear Irene,

LIES all of them.  I'm keeping this posted because this present self does not want the future self to ever forget what fucking hell that relationship was.  And how little you had to think of yourself to be in it.   How easy it was to lie to yourself about it.
He was not there when you went into the mental institution.  When you were huddled in the corner cutting and not going outside be broke the fuck down.  No it was not his responsibility to pull you out of it.  But as some one who loved you he should have gotten help, told your mother anything that you would have done for someone who you loved.
He was not with you those two years you went batshit in Colorado because he was in California
He was never woke up when you cried out.
He was the reason you became angry remember.  All those fucking fights when he would tell you that you did not really feel that way you felt and that you were confused and that your thoughts and feelings were bullshit.

He never fucking saved you
He tried to kill you
He tried to kill ME
I am the woman you were fighting to be.  The  Burlesque Dancer, performer, hedonist, healer, writer and general bad ass
you saved you
you saved me
you are the only one that ever can
never forget that.

He let you cry
you made me live.

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missrenie

November 2011

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