Tidal Waves Don't Beg Forgiveness

exhaustion comes in waves like the silent puddles at doran beach in july. i have spent too much time wanting an apology when perhaps, i should have apologized. regardless, this is the time to understand the journey of our eyes, the journey of a child before bed. what clock can tell how much sand i or anyone else has in the hourglass? above all, i offer myself, all of us, a chance this next start. I wish, dear friend, i had done better but i know you would be there to forgive.

i think, if there’s anything i’ve learned since late october is that’s its not good for me to seek out. seek within instead. a dear friend today told me that lightning struck years after a similar brutal end of a relationship. it resonated. in the past, I have sought out love or connection rather than turning inward.

my focus has rightly been on my darling children. both of them. it’s hard as a single parent, juggling multiple households and it’s been hard not to beat myself up over that. but it’s true in some fashion, put up the guards, focus on the kids, focus on myself which is the hardest thing to do for me. i had dear, dear time with 3 beautiful friends today, watched my son grow and embrace his wildness, had a wonderful talk with my fierce daughter last night. i need nothing more than my children, the sound of the ocean, myself.

she arrives, starts

and i am trying to login to therapy

because covid/world/etc

i say, hold on

to each of them

start a session and what in the hell

is this world anyway

she starts with each room

stares back at me

says

why are you even still here

and i say heartbreak

and i curl into

the last version of myself

and she says

i went through that too

can i take a

break

and i say yes

we pull down our masks

she leaves

for a moment

and i stay outside

under the lemon tree that i

always sat with my love

and she puts her mask back on and

says

it’s okay, i’ve been there

too

and she goes back to cleaning

i leave a tip after she goes

and i still sit under

this goddamn lemon tree

in my house

the house i shared with my lost love

why do I torture myself? why can’t I just let go? is it because she got me in a sense more than anyone? is it because I’m still in her bed? is it my age, is it regret? I am my own worst enemy.

is in a million pieces and just when I start to put it back together it breaks again.

bondage

in a different world

we’re lovers

supportive

watching the trees

as they nod

until I become a masochist

until you become the psychopath

and hunt me down.

until that happens

i will hit myself

forgive my past

injuries

until we trace the patterns

of crow wings

until the rest

until we lose each other

find the better part of garnet

I won’t forget

the old adage

that it takes time

but I’ll continue to search.