Oct. 10th, 2008

The list

Oct. 10th, 2008 11:20 am
missrenie: (Default)

You should write a list. 

 

I inform him without looking at him that I have no intention of writing down every bad thing that happened in my relationship.

 

I went back to typing.  A few moments had passed before I realized that he had not replied to my remark, nor had he moved.  He just stood there looking at me.  I turned my chair to face him and I looked up him with what I imagined to be defiance. 

He stared back at me with all the annoying impassivism of a vulcan but when he spoke it was low, thoughtful and without condescension.

 

You should write a list.

-I don’t want to

I understand it hurts. But when you see him again.  And you are going to see him again.  You may do something…

-Stupid?

Less intelligent than your norm

-Stupid… like forget everything that happened between us and go to bed with him, get involved again.

Less intelligent than your norm…  You’re a wonderful woman and any man would be a fool to mess up with you.  He doesn’t deserve you. 

-That’s a nice thing to say.  But I’ve done things wrong too you know.  You only know my side of it... I’m not as wonderful and deserving as you think I am.

I’ve been where you are right now. Write the list. 

 

The whole time he had never raised his voice.  And while I could barely look at him he had never taken his eyes off of me.  I felt naked, I felt weak, I felt guilty, I felt undeserving, I felt embarrassed.  I felt like an idiot.
Partially because I was defending, holding on to, believing in a relationship that almost left me ruined.
Partially because it was unrealistically dramatic,  unsettlingly romantic and uncomfortably exposing  to be talking to him like this.
When I was able to face him directly the impassive mask was gone.  And in its place was a look of genuine concern and I knew what it was like to be completely disarmed and alarmed at the same time.

He wasn’t being nice
He wasn't being sweet
He wasn't trying to collect on a rebound

He was being honest

 

I wrote the list
It took over two weeks
It was an ugly ordeal
In the end I had to rip out half my heart  in order to drag myself from this river of denial I had been drowning in. 

I’m not used to the air yet and while it’s still hard to breathe sometimes…

                                                                      its no where near as hard as it used to be.


 


missrenie: (Default)

I couldn't  bring myself to put into words what I was feeling while we were together. Because whoever read it would hate you.  And no matter how much I would verbally acknowledge that it was only my side of the story I would write it like it was the ultimate truth.

Because for me it is the truth

I have to do this... get this out so I can wash our blood off my hands and be done with it.  I will accept my role of excutionor of our relationship, of your sweet innocence, I will be the villan if I must.  If it means gaining my freedom, my sanity I will slit the throat of what we called out love, I will burn the corpse and I will bury it. 
 

 
But you know what?  Despite all the horrible things


I thank you for showing me how strong I truly am
I thank you for forcing me into a corner. So I could learn to fight with my back against the wall
I thank you for showing me what hunger feels like.  It will never again catch me unguarded
I thank you for showing me what lies love can tell.  You cleared my vision, cured me of a childish fancy
I thank you for shaping me, hardening me, putting me through the fire.  I am now crucible, I am now uncrushable.
I thank you for stripping me of everything that I once was.  Because what I was was not fit to be measured.
I thank you for helping/forcing me to become what I am today.   Because what I am today is without limitation.




There was a woman I met. 
A crone tucked away near the steps of the cathedral in Jackson Square
I was 17... it was three months before I had even laid eyes on you. 

She told me that we would met. 
That you would help me by hurting me.  That we would have three children, and that we would be married before I finished school, that I would leave you some day because you would turn me into a woman but you yourself would remain a boy.  That you would lead me to the crossing and I would leave and take my children with me.



I thought I had gotten around it because even though she described you to a perfectly I became infertile, I never finished school, we never got married.

But she was right. 
The children were misinterpreted by me. 
They are talents, gifts and you did give me three they are Strength, Courage & Wisdom
We were never married in a public office or before our peers but we exchanged vows.  You before your god and me before mine
I did indeed become a woman while you remained a boy.
I am at the crossing now I carry my children in my blood, in my heart, in my spirit.





I had a dream the night before I moved out
one dream, vivid and stark and frightened me at first
but I understand it now

I was a dead woman on the river's bank
I had stepped into the ferryman’s boat cradling  three golden orbs
I could see you standing upon the shore watching me slip away into the fog...
the ferryman whispered in my ear to wash my hands, to wash my hands
and I do
leaving ribbons of red in my wake.
and as I washed I watch you.
You have neither moved nor breathed.  And I am begging you to give me a sign
to tell me something, to show some emotion so that I can jump ship and swim to you
but the ferryman grabs my shoulder and tells me to turn away, to turn away lest I become a pillar of salt
and I do

I look out in front of me and I am blinded there is an aching pain as the orbs glow and encase me.  And I am lifted up and out and I feel everything at once a moment of clarity that I can not remember or put into words no matter how hard I try.


Last Saturday
Right as I was leaving...
as I stood in the entry way...
as removed my key from its chain and placed it in the bowl by the door
I faltered.

my feet were heavy
my heart ached
and I looked for a sign

I heard Ron's voice from the doorway, the drawling nonchalance, calming, soothing like this was any other day.
"Don't look back Renie you'll turn into a pillar of salt"
and I turned around
and I faced the day
the gentle rain outside
a river falling from the sky
free falling
free like me
and I screamed one short, violent cry as the door clicked close behind me.

And in it was sadness, and happiness, and pain and pleasure and joy and relief and
Strength
Courage
and Wisdom

and it hurt... but now I can see the world stretch open wide and vast before me. Full as the harvest moon, ripe as the perfect fruit and I am reintroduced to me, reborn in this reality, realized fully and finally at peace, finally happy to be me...

finally  free.


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