The phases of selfless love and forgiveness

1:) Acknowledging the pain

2:) Introspection

3:) Anger outward and inward

4:) All the ugly comes out

5:) Hating on the gas-lighter and hating ones self for being so foolish

6:) Accepting all the ugly so you can move on to more beautiful things

7:) Continued introspection

8:) Selfless love replaces the hate so you can move on

9:) Forgiveness, forgiving is a hard thing to do

10:) Learning to live and breathe again

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Somehow you still haunt me…

When I find myself struggling through the tears to take my next breath. And to think after all this time has passed and somehow I thought I was all better, but yet death won’t come, only dead flowers find me.

You know distractions have a way of presenting themselves with false hopes. You see a distraction is a way out or a way to overcome the grief that has somehow consumed my life. And I ask myself how did I not see it, how did I not hear it, how could you self-destruct and take me down that path with you for nine long years, and cut my heart into tiny pieces with “said” knife.

And here in the days and the months after I said my good-byes, knowing all to well I wanted better for myself then to live a bunch of lies with you. Somehow I find myself under all my distractions and I realize that all it takes is a sound or a song or word to trigger it reluctantly. I wish it weren’t the truth, but yet you haunt me, somehow.

I’m reminded of how I was never enough, for it to be just us. How; somehow beautiful lies covered ugly truths. And that somehow I would believe the lies because you would say but I come home to you every night. But yet somehow I did not see the light. I couldn’t see the light because our death still haunts me.

But the truth was when you weren’t at home you were fucking around and that somehow that made it all alright.

I can’t unimagine the pain away, just because somehow I wish it so. No more then I can smell the painted flowers that hang on all my walls and decorate my home and I hide myself in my flowers; silk, painted and real, just so I can’t feel.

You know flowers are supposed to represent happiness and caring, but for me they drown out all that used to be so when I’m not thinking of you which is more often then not thank God. It can drown out the opportunities that I ignore the urge to cry, that I ignore the urge to remember.

Because what’s there to remember what memories are left to resonate anything that resembles caring or happiness when those things you did to me, keep me up at night.

And I’m drowning in a sea of questions that only beg to ask more questions, more then I can ever find answers to.

And so somehow I beg for morning to come so I can start anew and forget that I ever knew you. So I can breath again without the smell of dead flowers following me every step I take. And as I sit here crying and asking why? Why would you do this? Why would you be so fake?
I say oh dear… why waste your tears on a wasteful man? And at last I feel free to be, yes to just be. That’s what I will be and that’s what I will do. I will just be. I will be me without you.

A little “Rise” by Eddie Vedder to visualize throwing your ace in the hole and contemplating it doesn’t mean you have to fold.

To fold is to admit defeat and to walk away. To throw your ace in the hole is to realize you’ve got one last play and your going all in. Is it the same as ante up? No, not really because your riches aren’t achieved by betting, there achieved by letting fate decide what the cosmos have in store for you. Does it surprise me that it took me a little time to grasp this concept? Fuck yeah it did. I gave up on connecting with another soul. I was conducive to turning hand over fist my heart to the bellows of air and ash; so I could wake up not sad to be alone, but rather free from torment to travel this earth alone.
Do I want to be alone? Not necessarily, but after what I have been through I certainly was and am willing to be alone, before I sacrifice any more years of my life to soul-sucking human beings who haven’t figured out a purpose in life.
I’m already surrounded by family and friends who suprise me, love me and cherish me as I do them and that’s really all I need to survive and evolve at this point. But if love finds a way to protect me, shelter me and raise me up again, I may let it knock on my door and I would certainly answer it with anticipation. Because this heart was made to love, it just wasn’t meant to be shattered into a million pieces. So with no further ado, I bring you a little metaphysics meets girl, song to you. It helps me to understand where my journeys is taking me.
Such is the way of the world
You can never know
Just where to put all your faith
And how will it grow
Gonna rise up
Burning black holes in dark memories
Gonna rise up
Turning mistakes into gold
Such is the passage of time
Too fast to fold
Suddenly swallowed by signs
Low and behold
Gonna rise up
Find my direction magnetically
Gonna rise up
Throw down my ace in the hole

The reoccurring theme, inside the mind of what it means to decipher a meme without the visual image

How does one draw the lines of the face of a man now turned monster, the transformation that followed no allegiance? Was it the monster your lies did keep hidden the true you I could not face, nor see, nor decipher. Like the picture of a man with no face, the answers I know but could not rightfully place in the stanza of open lines where words use covers to sleep and not hide their grievances.

How do you face demons that have no names like married mistresses who help you hide shame beneath covers and avoid truthfulness between sheets that clothe you from virtue unto others and oneself? Where paramours unite from light and clothe themselves in darkness, as do black sheep you find solace together. But what is solace in the face of two blind people who have been hiding from themselves, their true self’s?

Should I feel pity? Should I feel anger? Should I feel nothing? But what did you want me to feel, was it the recesses of blackness? When I pull the covers over my own body and I lie there dreaming to understand. I do find no one waiting under there for me, but I also do not find sadness.

Rather I find memes with no insight to provide, where I become tangled between the sheets of deciet and confused by the cursing of frames. Where pictures tell stories, but our life together no stories are left to share because your darkness destroyed all the dreams of a family you shamed. And now you’ve no one else but yourself to hide behind the blame.

I find comfort in my thoughts that I’m nothing like you? So I ask myself why do I look beneath the darkness to find answers to the things my virtues provide me safe harbor? I guess I’m looking for what darkness hides that maybe some resemblance of man still might be in you.

When I pull the sheets back I see this picture of what could have been and I want to take it down and throw that canvas in the trash where it belongs like the lies, it’s all a scam. But I think I will leave it hang on the wall for now so I can dream to sleep and you can sleep to dream of what could have been. Was it all just wishful dreaming that I did dream I could turn a monster into a man?

Cleopatra science fiction or tragic love

A story told a thousand times, half the truth retold between the lines and half a lie beneath space and time. But indeed tragic love no matter which way its portrayed. Truth or science fiction, you decide? A terrible love story just like mine. But time heals all things. I may have been very angry when I wrote some of these words, but I’m glad I said them. It was as if saying them outloud helped me to overcome my hatred, cause now I feel less resentment and ready to let go. Not by means of suicide but verbally all the ugly is out of me and I’m ready to see and live in the beautiful world around me. However keep this in mind I do not wish to die for love. I’m not heroic in any sense of the term nor was I meant to be a martyr and continue to live a life that wasn’t right for me. At this point in my life I hope my ex will look at his mistakes and learn from them and find someone he will treat right and be good to and maybe then I can forgive him. But I resent him less and less everyday that I’m away from the gas-lighting.

Was it the rising sun or the setting sun that tragic love did find me?

In the morning when the sun rose above the clouds, I did notice this peculiar thing…. that half of me was gone.

Then again as the sun set below the clouds I did notice that the half of me that belonged to you was still gone.

I thought to myself where has a whole day gone without the other half of me here to notice the beautiful sun rising and to think in this beautiful place.

As the sun began to do as it usually does and changed the color of its face and the clouds to oranges and pinks and blues.

I thought to myself did he really need to have half of me when he could of been here too?

Is that how tragic love lives and dies as if by the rising and setting of the sun it forgets to try?

Is it in the passing of each day when only one of you is looking to the sky at all the beautiful things in it, while the other half of you has already said goodbye.

To all the Romeo’s and Juliet’s out there; love does not have to be tragic it can be beautiful if you try. Even broken hearts can see the beauty around them maybe even notice it in a way you can not, because after all we have nothing to gain or lose anymore we just exist to get from one day to the next without noticing how much a broken heart hurts. So the next time you see someone admiring something beautiful in the world maybe you should stop to admire it too.

Beautiful lies are meant to be realized.

midnight sun~ Speck Mountain

Your lips were like a red and ruby chalice, warmer than the summer night
The clouds were like an alabaster palace rising to a snowy height.
Each star it’s own aurora borealis, suddenly you held me tight,
I could see the midnight sun.
I can’t explain the silver rain that found me–or was that a moonlight veil?
The music of the universe around me, or was that a nightingale?
And then your arms miraculously found me, suddenly the sky turned pale,
I could see the midnight sun.
Was there such a night, it’s a thrill i still don’t quite believe,
But after you were gone, there was still some stardust on my sleeve.
The flame of it may dwindle to an ember, and the stars forget to shine,
And we may see the meadow in december, icy white and crystalline.
But oh my darling always i’ll remember when your lips were close to mine,
And we saw the midnight sun
This song reminds me of the place in my heart where I held you so close, of all the things we would do, but the lies kept us from ever doing anything beautiful together. How we could have been married beneath the aura borelius had you not been such a beautiful liar. I hope you go to see it someday and I hope you think of me and what we could have been and then I hope you forget all about me the way you did when we were together. Because when I travel here to see it for myself I won’t be thinking of you. I will find myself enraptured in a moment where beauty, earth and the cosmos collide. I will be thankful that I escaped maybe not in one piece, but that I came out on the other side a stronger me who appreciates and loves life to its fullest possibilities.