A Woman’s Worth

I re-read some of my older entries:

From “Am I Alone Here?” dated: March 19, 2003

We stayed up night after night following the initial expression of ‘deep feelings’ talking about everything that mattered and a great deal that didn’t. This was someone I had known a long time. This was someone I had trusted with my deepest feelings and fears and he had cared enough then not to act on his feelings at a time when I simply couldn’t handle it. I was flabbergasted. I don’t think I had ever met a man who had sacrificed his feelings for mine before.

He repeated himself, over and over. He’s a nice, trustworthy guy with my best interest at heart and everything about him in my past, led me to believe him.

________

From “Where is the love?” dated: March 31st, 2003

I couldn’t stand it after a while and I did something we had never done before, I got on top of him and slid him inside of me. I have never seen him react like that before. He writhed under me as I clenched my vaginal muscles around his cock, and made the sweetest faces; Hmmm, and the auditory enhancement. I moved over him and fascinated, I gave him what he wanted and like a voyeur I watched him this time.  It was like seeing him this way, open and vulnerable under me, I saw him releasing something for the first time.

Funny, I didn’t come that way, but after he came inside of me, clutching me and crying out. I sat there my mind racing. I’m in love with him. I’m in love with him. And I knew it was the truth. I just couldn’t lie about how I felt or pretend I was going to just not give in to it, that was it. That’s the truth of how I felt. My body was thrumming and the blood roared through me and I felt my fear rise up… almost choking me.

I swallowed. My throat was almost dry. I’m impulsive and I blurted it out.

“I think I am falling in love with you…”

He just cringed.

—————

From “Words Unsaid” dated: April 11, 2003

You, you are so wrapped up in yourself, that you can’t even muster enough concern (fuck that TALK that you give me) to assure me that you are at least concerned for my fucking welfare. All you have shown me really in the last six weeks is, that no matter how good the sex is, the conversation is, the interaction is between us, you can’t even find away to fit me or even calling me into your busy schedule. There’s complicated and there’s a not so subtle hint that you really are not interested in me or my life. If I don’t call you, we do not talk. And the phone calls at 4 am, barely count. Three in six weeks isn’t really enough to count, all things considering.

Old adage: Actions speak louder than words. True ‘dat.

—————

From “Quelle Suprise!” dated: May 26, 2003

I think what I have been experiencing has been a kind of drag that occurs when you are breaking free of the binding ties real and imagined…. I mean to suddenly pick up momentum in certain areas has to effect you on subtle and overt levels, oui? This is happening the way it is supposed to. This is the only way it could happen and I know that it is directly related to the choices I am making, hard and simple. I also think I am largely zigging when I am supposed to zig and zagging when I am supposed zag.

Some of those choices, like backing away from Sweet Thing… those were things I knew were meant to happen, I just didn’t want to accept it. I knew it had to happen, but it was just so fucking hard to let go. I’d be there, knowing I shouldn’t be calling him, shouldn’t be hoping for things that couldn’t be, but I would be calling a dozen times a day, just aching to connect with him. I knew I had to back off and leave the situation alone, but it took me so long to do it, because of the purity of what I felt. How could I explain that to him without panicking him to the marrow of his bones? But I did it anyway. I panicked him, and I let go. And hard as it all was, I did it.

—————

From “Third Eye Opens” dated: May 29, 2003

A few days ago, I posted that I didn’t see the lessons yet, but I was just in a moment of fear. F-alse, E-vidence, A-ppearing, R-eal. Remember?

Something in what happened between us felt so right, it was scary and wonderful all at the same time….. the way we (fuck it), ‘connected’. Whatever it was, it was meant to happen the way it did. I am fine with that, because I was shown what the path was before it happened. I see the road in front of me and am reminded of the really serious lessons I learnt from our experience, and believe me, that’s all I can really hold on to. He in the end, opened me up and left me alone to deal with all this, so it’s about introspection, not about figuring out how we work together. He never let it even get to that point.

Whatever, I am grateful to him for opening my creative centre. I think it’s in my G Spot… which is where he touched me inside, and that’s what radiates when I think about him, when I am up writhing in my bed at night. Whatever happened, and is happening, I am glad for that. It is a comfort, a salvation, an outlet for the turbulence of my emotions, a place for my rationality to take form and guide me to some kind of solid ground.

That doesn’t mean though, that he and I won’t get an opportunity to figure it out together. Maybe it won’t happen in this lifetime, maybe it will. Maybe it’ll happen sooner that I think, or longer than I think. But you build karma with every experience, and there is no one new to you under the sun.

See, I don’t know him the way I thought I did, but I understand him and why he’s doing some of these things. I see him with a clarity that I haven’t had since Boobie, and shit the other similarities are a little freaky too. I wonder if it’s because they’re both Cancerians? They move the same way in my heart, and that is frightening but reassuring in a strange, karmic kind of way too.

—————-

From “Reunion” dated: June 10, 2003

Reunion

I had guards like watchdogs

Dogs in a manger

I could feel the protection

Possession and anger

And I drove out of there with no one behind me

Feeling funny and free

Oh you pretty pretenders

Negligent vendors

Aren’t you precious inside

I have no need for anger

With intimate strangers

And I got nothing to hide…. HEY!

I laughed as I said it

This is my situation

It’s not pictures of privilege

It’s just self-preservation

I don’t want you to feel any obligation

Feels so funny to be free

Oh you pretty pretenders

Negligent vendors

Aren’t you precious inside

I have no need for anger

With intimate strangers

And I got nothing to hide

BAD NASTY LITTLE SOLO

BRIDGE

We are tempted

And innocent

But we are fuelled by distortions of love in the distance

We’re shading misfortune

Faith is one thing

But it’s hard to deliver

It feels so funny to be free

Oh you pretty pretenders

Negligent vendors

Aren’t you precious inside

I have no need for anger

With intimate strangers

And I got nothing to hide

I got nothing to hide

All of us

All of us

Pretty pretenders

Negligent vendors

Aren’t we precious inside

I have no need for anger

With intimate strangers

And I got nothing to hide

I had guards like watchdogs

Dogs in a manger

….you

——-

God I love that group…. it’s like they write and sing my life.

——-

I recommend reading:

What I Want & How I Get It” dated August 2, 2003

“Should I Cry? dated September 20, 2003

It’s a good thing keeping a journal! If only because in recording the moments you spend in time, how you spend them, the emotional responses to events, situations and people, you can track your own progress through difficult terrain as well as the smooth sailing.

I read some of what my feelings were, both in the beginning and the end, and although I was wrong about a great many things, most of all trusting my heart to someone I barely remember meeting, but they are my mistakes, and I really am grateful for the experience. Without it, there are a great many things I would not have learned. I saw the situation as it was, not the way I wanted it to be. I thank Osun now more than ever for moving ImFuckingFedUp out of my life early enough, that the damage he tried to create was not worse. I thank Baba Orunmilla for granting me wisdom and intelligence enough to deal with my own shit, and not to take on his.

I remain without cowardice, without regret, without shame, in the presence of fear but untouched by it and deeply appreciative of whatever measure of strength, truth and wisdom came out of it.

It’s 1.10pm on Friday November 7. Still not crying motherfuker!

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thegoddessroom

The Vault

sungoddess

mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!