I did a card pull today, from the Cartomancer Cards poker deck and the Tarot Del Toro. These are essentially the same card. A fire card, the epitome of fire, being an ace. In traditional cartomancy, the ace of clubs can be either wealth and gain or a marriage, or binding contract. The ace of wands is the element of fire in transition, things have to burn to regrow. Or inspired consciousness and the desire to grow, to begin. Planting new seeds. New beginnings, creativity, initiative, balancing, energy. Take from that what you will.
I'm an intuitive reader. I know the technicalities, but sometimes they don't feel right. For a person, or situation. These were for me, though anyone can take anything from them, if they feel right. Pretty sure there's no marriage here. So, creative endeavours it is. I will be writing more little fictions here, and posting more card pulls and music stuff, as well as the personal bits.
As for personal bits, someone drove 6 hours to have dinner with me. That was nice, and appreciated. I got a super awesome new coffee maker for Christmas. I love it. And my sharky gifts. My birthday is soon. Like, a week from tomorrow.
He was my ace of fire, so I'm not sure what this means. He is a fire sign, tripled. I miss him, of course. But maybe I was a fool the whole time. I never got to see him on a holiday, except for last new year's eve, which we were alone, in bed for. I never got to be tagged anywhere with him. I never got a post on insta with two beer glasses and a meal shared. I've said before I felt hidden, like a secret shame, almost. I didn't meet his other friends, so i couldn't interact with them on social media. I was just, nothing. I guess now he can do these things. She's pretty and fit and apparently shareable. I've left contact up to him, and there has been none. I haven't even looked at all of the del Toro deck, because I relate looking at new cards with him. I have, in fact, looked at that one above. I feel forgotten and disposable. Like I was never anything special. I'm certainly easy to move on from, and that hurts. I guess he doesn't want to be my friend anymore. I guess I can't blame him. I'm working on wishing him happiness with her. I'm really trying. He has it, whether or not I wish it.
I just wish I could understand. Or feel anymore like I was worth anyone's love. If someone you've been friends with for so long can't love you, who can? Maybe he just wants me to shut the fuck up about him. I don't know. My truth is this, I still say good morning every morning, which means more. I still want to send him things. I still miss him sending me silly shit, because it meant he thought about me. Maybe I was always a fool. It's hard, not reaching out to him. Really hard. This is worse than losing a friend to death. Most of the friends I've had that died did not do so willingly. This has been a complete rejection. Complete. Maybe he needs time. Like I said, I don't know. Such pretty words about rebuilding trust and friendship, oh, while he's dating someone else. Knowing what I want, I was supposed to be okay with this. Maybe I can't even get that anymore. My trust was broken. My heart was broken. But I'm supposed to be okay with everything.
The silence again feels cruel and dismissive. Maybe it's supposed to.
What have I become? My sweetest friend Everyone I know Goes away in the end You could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt.
So, this is my new tattoo. I actually enjoy the feeling of being tattooed. I've wanted this one for a year, but started making actual plans for it in October. Spoke to an artist, made an appointment, etc. If you haven't read the book The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern, you should. I read it the week it came out in November 2019. Then I read it again. It's a story about stories, in the loosest terms. It hits a number of my important life themes. I went out and bought a hardback copy to share with James right after I read it, and he isn't a huge reader. The imagery is stunning.
If you know me, you know that I have a thing about choices, doorways, and crossroads. Each one is always a choice, choice is sacred, the only thing we can control is our own choices. My love and consideration of every door has led to a love of keys, and doorknobs. This book speaks to me on a level I cannot properly express. I looked at art and artists intensely to find one local to me that could do what I wanted. I spoke to a couple who told me what I wanted wasn't what I wanted. After many emails, phone calls, and a consultation, I decided on Emily Page at Rat-A-Tat-Tat's in downtown Cary. Her art is amazing, and can be so delicate. Sebastian, who handles the emails and phone provides amazing customer service, and comes across as patient, and non judgemental of the crazy. The shop is cute and clean and unintimidating. They are taking every possible safety precaution.I love tattoos, and tattoo shops, but some are intentionally dickish and can make people feel less than for what they want.
The bee symbolizes community, industry, personal power, spring and summer and flowers, the goddess and fertility, sweetness and honey, you can follow a bee to a new destination. Bees are always a positive symbol. Bees are omens of good luck and prosperity.
The key is an opener of locks. It can be freedom, or the safekeeping of something sacred or precious. It's a moment of pause, to contemplate a door. They are symbols of gateways and choice, mystery, knowledge, initiation, growth via unlocking. Gatekeeper deities keep sets of keys as symbols. Different keys do different things. The correct corresponding key is required for each lock. If you have the key, you can access a new path or room. A key is access.
The sword is a symbol of might and strength. Power and authority. It can be seen as a phallic symbol, with it's corresponding sheath being the yonic. In alchemy, they are the symbol of purification.
What do they mean in The Starless Sea? There are three paths. The acolyte. The guardian. The keeper. They all involve you reading the book.There are owls and muffins and cocktails and door knobs and deception and books and pirates and labyrinths and masks and libraries and video games and tea and snow and ice and a dollhouse. A lot of people really dislike the book, I find the bad reviews as illuminating as the good ones. I loved her first novel, and an NPR interview led me to getting this one the day it came out. I can't really explain what the book means to me, how it affected me.
It's a story of time and fate and struggle and beauty and loss. I was in a completely different place when I decided I wanted a personalized version of this. There is a sentence that makes me ugly cry, every time that I read it. Which has been a few now. The struggle seems unbearable. The losses and gains unimaginable but the bit that gets me, why this is here, on me, so that I can see it? This is by most tattoo standards upside down. It is for me and me alone, even if it is my most visible tattoo now. It is a reminder. For me. That line? it's after the spoiler alert. It's your choice to read from there.
On a relationship note, I suppose there is none. It's been a week since I've seen his face. A week since I've had the lingering scent of his skin on mine from a hug. I miss memes and videos that he thought I'd like, or that he wanted to share to make me smile. I miss knowing he was thinking of me. Maybe he doesn't. It's been 4 days since I sent a good morning. Which has always meant i love you and I choose you. I really want to run to him, to share this with him. To get that giant hug, be wrapped in him. I did send him a message on Sunday, with a blog link, and saying that this is in his hands now. Rebuild, or whatever may come. I've fought with every fiber of my being for months. I don't know what happens now. I release any semblance of control. Which doesn't mean anything has changed about how I feel. It hasn't. He's not a bad man. He's a very good man. He handled a situation badly. So have I. I love all of him. Even mistakes. Not that breaking up with me was a mistake for him, I believe he stands behind it. I wish I knew what he really thought. I may never. Or, nothing has changed from the original, devastating, statements that he made. I deluded myself into thinking he was considering my words. I asked for a choice, he had no intention of restating. I don't know.
Miss is a highly insufficient word.
I will still say good morning. Every morning. Which means more. I'll just say it aloud.
SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER
This book could be a tragedy so easily. The line that makes me cry?
"He never expected a happy ending."
When I first read it, I was in a completely different place, I thought , just maybe, I'd found that unexpected happy ending in the man that took my breath away. Things are different now. I have no clue what the future holds. My present isn't very happy. I'm still shattered and damaged and so fucking confused how exactly this is where I am. I desperately wanted that happy ending that I thought I had found the beginning of. I needed it. You know what else the book reminds me of?
To keep seeking.
So I will try. I will look at this tattoo, and remember that.
I know, I know, I can be inconsistent. The thing is, I know all of the reasons that I'm unlovable. I'm awkward and weird. I can be contradictory.
I've spent today working on some things to occupy my mind. There's a few things I want to say to the one that I lost, but I can't. Or won't. Or whatever. I have a project that was going to be a gift, that I've put about 100 hours of work in. I just look at it and cry. I put it away. I'll never finish it. It was very specifically for him. It basically is him. I've been working n it for months, between other things. I wish I had one more night. Not to try to undo the undoing. Just for closure. A few things I wish I'd experienced. I would give almost anything. Just a little comfort.
The two songs I've always most identified with in life are Alice by Sisters of Mercy and Pretty in Pink by The Psychedelic Furs. I'll put the lyrics at the end of this post. If I don't, you can always google them. Maybe I'll make another post.
I need adventure. I need friends. I need a fucking hug. I'm going to try to start writing more again. I used to make up stories about my favorite photographs that I've taken. Maybe I'll start posting those here.
I'm researching the best ways to sell things online, Etsy and other options. I have no idea what I'm doing, and Etsy takes a lot of fees.
A relationship is choices. Every morning, every day, you choose someone. You can be attracted to other people, it's only human, but you choose how far to let that go. When put to that choice, historically I come up short. I think about him so many times a day, something I want him to see, something I want to share with him. A thought, a meme, a spicy doughnut. He's my first thought in the morning, still. I know it's been less than a week. I want to scream. But, I understand. That's the thing. I understand. I hate it, but I do. I drive people away. I inspire no loyalty, I'm not worth that choice. I've known it for a long time. I know that I'm overwhelmingly sad. I'll be okay.
A few months ago, I asked him for help with something that was too much. I knew it was too much. He never came back to where I live after that. I got it taken care of a while back, but I couldn't say anything, because I knew I had asked too much, but I also couldn't seem like I was upset at nothing happening. I wasn't. It was too much.
I still want to fight. But, choices. I have to respect that, right?
Just crying into a void.
I'm aware it makes people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like to live it.
I'm not looking for sympathy. I certainly don't want pity.
I'm looking for a non customer service job. I'm working on things.
I've changed my mind. You get a different song for this one. From the most influential album of my life.
Little Conversation-Concrete Blonde
The little conversation Is over very soon And I watch in admiration From my corner of the room. They shine on you with starry eyes They rain a friendly storm. Like kids around a Christmas tree And then you smile all nice and warm
The little conversations If I tried my very best You know I never could say anything In twenty words or less. Somewhere, sometime, down the line Someday I may confess, And spill it all. that's all
The little conversations On me are very rough They leave me all in pieces You know there's never time enough Like a book with missing pages Like a story incomplete Like a painting left unfinished It feels like not enough to eat. Starvin'
These little conversations Well for me they'll never do Now what am I supposed to do with Broken sentences of you? I'll stay in my corner 'cause That's all that I can do And let the others speak for me. Little conversations Are we.
I'm not serial killer obsessed, but I do know a lot about Charles Manson, oddly. Who was never convicted of killing anyone. I don't know what his favorite ice cream was, though.
This could be long.
I lost something this week. A relationship. I am so unhappy about it. I love him so much.
In September, I fell. I'm clumsy. I did some damage to my face, I lost my bottom front teeth. There's not a gap, I have an appliance. I am extremely insecure about how I speak, now. I avoid it even more than usual. This process has been far more psychologically devastating than I can properly explain. It hurts. It's uncomfortable. I hate everything about it. If I'm not wearing it, there is a huge space. I can't talk like that, either. My anxiety has been through the roof. I understand that I haven't handled it well.
Neopolitan, maybe? A classic choice for a man who grew up poor.
I don't want this relationship to end. Let me tell you about him. He is warm where I am cold. He is a sunflower in a filed of daisies. I love his laugh. I love how his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I love how his mind works, he is methodical and considered. I truly love watching his face when he figures through something. He makes me feel safe, which I never really have before. He is like the sun, steady and hot, where I am mercurial and sometimes hidden in the dark, like the moon. He has all of the physical traits that I have said aren't really my thing, yet he is to me radiant and glorious. I have never felt so blissfully lost, physically, in another person. Was it love at first sight? Not by an extremely long shot. He was the partner to a friend for a long time. I don't think that way, poly past or not. I lost her, too, during this process. No conversation or anything. She just, walked away. I never meant to hurt her.
He was a friend. He made me the best cookies I've ever had for my birthday once, a few years ago. He is everything. Of course I know he's not perfect. But he is amazing. It's not rose colored glasses. He is the sun.
Maybe plain vanilla? Or chocolate. I don't think there was cookies and cream when Charles Manson grew up. Maybe homemade strawberry, or peach.
I was always insecure about how glorious he is, and how... me I am.
Fudge ripple? Pistachio? I really liked Spumoni as a kid. There's pistachio ice cream in that, right?
Let me tell you how I failed. SO many things I did not say. He can be seen as arrogant, but he doesn't take compliments well. I hate that the last time we were together went like it did, but I think he had already made up his mind. I wish I had asked to take walks with him. Be outside. Held hands in the woods. I wish I had pushed "doing things" a bit more. We never watched a movie together. There isn't a single picture of us. There is no trace on social media. I get the impression he didn't really tell anyone about us, I think we have a bunch of mutual friends who don't realize we were together. Maybe I wish I had said more. Maybe I wanted to be something to be proud of. I don't know. I wish I had talked more, about us. He is quieter than me, and that is saying something. I love his stillness. I could have made more plans, but I fell into an unsatisfying routine. I wish I had instigated adventure.
Maybe it was sherbet.
I want to fight for this, but I don't know how. I know he thought it through, and decided I fell more to the cost side than benefit. I want to scream how much I love him, and how I know I fucked up. But how can you argue with someone you know has thought it through? He isn't impulsive or irrational. I can't change how he feels now. I wish I knew how he did, before. I want to fight, but I don't know how. How do i fight for this?
I think peanut butter and chocolate is my favorite, specifically Baskin Robins. I don't know if Mr. Manson ever tried it. The peanut butter swirl is extra salty. Oddly, I don't like salted caramel and chocolate.
For 524 days, I sent him a good morning message, if I didn't say it in person. I wake up, and smile, and reach for the phone to send him good morning. I still reach for the phone before it comes back. He is the reason I smile in the morning. He's still out there. Now I get tears, because I want to touch him.
Peppermint ice cream? Did Mr. Manson have holiday spirit?
I ended up in the emergency room a couple of weeks ago. I thought I was having another heart attack. I find it strangely comforting that they test for heart attack by blood, now. Your heart sheds dying cells that can be measured. I also now know, by numbers, how close I came to death the first heart attack. The ER doctor gave me my medecine for a month. I feel so much better. I just have to figure out, in two weeks, how to gwt new prescriptions, without insurance. I can't go back to always feeling like I do without it, being afraid to go to sleep because I'm sure I won't wake up, because of the chest pain. I have had chest pain since my heart attack in February 2018. Dressler's syndrome, apparently. The heart medecine takes that away, which takes away a lot of my constant anxiety. I am demonstrably, medically, better.
Butter pecan? Praline?
This song has been in my head since Tuesday.
How do I fight for this? Please?
I bet it was vanilla.
All the world just stopped now So you say you don't want to stay together anymore Let me take a deep breath babe If you need me, me and Neil'll be hangin' out with the dream king
Neil says hi by the way I don't believe you're leaving cause me and Charles Manson like the same ice cream I think it's that girl and I think there're pieces of me you've never seen Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen well
All the world is All I am The black of the blackest ocean And that tear in your hand All the world is danglin', danglin', danglin' for me darlin' You don't know the power that you have With that tear in your hand That tear in your hand
Maybe I ain't used to maybes Smashing in a cold room cutting my hands up Every time I touch you Maybe maybe it's time to wave goodbye now Time to wave goodbye now
Caught a ride with the moon I know I know you well well better than I used to Haze all clouded up my mind In the daze of the why it could've never been So you say and I say you know you're full of wish And your baby ,baby, baby ,babies I tell you there are pieces of me you've never seen Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen well
All the world is All I am The black of the blackest ocean And that tear in your hand All the world is danglin', danglin', danglin' for me darlin' You don't know the power that you have With that tear in your hand That tear in your hand
