Broken

So, I tried to get eight hours of sleep like a good girl. 

I did my nightly ritual of lighting candles around the bedroom.  Yeah, I know its not safe but it helps me sleep. 

I worshipped Dionysus, thanking him for the elixir that made dreamless sleep possible as I slammed a wine glass of full vodka down my throat.  To make it seem healthier, I added a few drops of Valerian infused vodka to it.

I feel things I'm not supposed to feel.  I find that vodka takes the edge off.  I still hurt...just a little less. 

Why in the heck do I feel this way? 

It was 2:00 a.m.

I lay there wondering if I should go to the studio and work. 

I couldn't move. 

Then the visions came. 

At first I didn't understand. 

I saw the university where I studied health psychology.  I saw the neighborhood surrounding it where I recently spent hours going door to door to try to get a friend elected. 

Weird...I was running for mayor in another city but I wanted this man to win. 

I saw the office in the area that I'm tempted to rent on Tuesdays but don't know if I could tolerate the drive.   Whenever I drive on the highway, around a little bar called the It'll Do Lounge, I feel a tugging at my soul that makes me sad. 

That bar is a few blocks away from the university. 

Then I realized that there is a bigger reason for my hesitancy. 

In my waking dream, I saw a little house.   

My car was parked on the side street as I went door to door, meeting people, talking to them, wanting to know what they wanted their government to do for them. 

I remember that house on Fenton, the one that I was afraid to visit.  The one that I feared for some stupid reason I don't quite understand.   

I knocked anyway and no one was home. 

The vision faded and I remembered an event that occurred last week, on the 16th of January. 

I was birthday shopping and found myself at a shopping center a mile away from this house.  I had this nagging feeling to visit the restaurant next store and order soup.  I wasn't hungry. 

They had vegan food. 

I could get tea. 

I decided to go home instead.  I wasn't hungry, why make myself sick? 

The memory faded when I found myself startled by a noise.  In a hypnogogic state, I heard my ex bring my car back to the house and glanced at the clock. 

It was 5:30 a.m.

I immediately fell asleep and awakened again around 8:00 to more visions. 

I won't give life to what I see. 

They must be warnings...

But at least I understand now. 

There are men all around me. 

Some men I've known since I was a child. 

One I usually meet at a steakhouse near that vegan restaurant.  He's waiting in the wings, I'm trying to get him married off to someone else.  He says I'm hot.  We've got too much in common.  By that I mean, we both are psychic with OCD.  Things would be boring....how can you get dirty if you're afraid of filth?  How can you be surprised when you know what is going to happen? 

Another man, oh, we met in another city but I found he only fives four blocks away from me.  He'd sit and listen to me talk.  We were both members of the same business group.  He's a single dad and I really want to help bring business to him so I try to network with him.   One day, he meets me in the parking lot and asks me who this Mike person was and why I don't seem happy to say his name.

People see my unhappiness.  I don't like that. 

Then there is another member of that group who asked me why I look like I haven't had a good bang session. 

And my actor friend who wants to know why I don't act married.

And a guy a few doors down who wants to know if I'd.....oh, I can't repeat that in public.  Let's just say....he's not very discreet. 

There are more stories....after three and a half years there have been lots of little temptations. 

I know I don't want any part of it....of them....and I thought it was due to a delusion that I was still in love with an ex. 

An ex that I thought of when I knocked on that door on Fenton. 

An ex that I write about all of the time.

One of the two exes that I kicked off of facebook (meaning none of them are my FB friends anymore).

An ex that I see at that PHO restaurant. 

The ex whose memory is making me daydream about moving to Mexico just to get away from the triggers. 

Then it hit me.

I don't avoid men because I'm a deluded fool.

I'm a deluded fool because my subconscious wants to go back to the one person who didn't break my heart on purpose.  The one person who didn't smack me around, steal my money, destroy my property, spread believable lies about me, and make me clean his stinky socks. 

He just fed me coffee with weird stuff in it. 

I want to go back to the time when I could trust just sitting with someone, in silence, and know it would be okay.  I want to go to the time when someone looked at me with love, I didn't question it.  I want to go back to the time when a dinner was just a dinner, holding hands meant something, and no one had to feel pressure to say three little words when a look said all that needed to be said. 



That was insightful. 



I'm going to go out to that part of town today.  I go there every Saturday to support a business whose profits go to help battered women.  I like to donate my suits to them because they give them to women escaping the grip of abuse by looking for a good paying job. 

My dream has aways been to start a foundation that would help these women regain their self-esteem.  I have an esthetician on board, a life coach, and a hypnotherapist.  I'd like to get a massage therapist, a psychotherapist, an acupuncturist, a yoga instructor, a dentist, and a cosmetic surgeon on board. 

If I ever get money... this is what I'll do.  I even have a name for it; Laxmi, after a  Goddess of prosperity, beauty and courage.   

So, I'm hoping that if I go to that place today...I will work through the feelings and come back not missing, not desiring, and not wanting my friend.  It is entirely possible that I don't want the wrong things....I may just want the wrong person.  I mean, seriously, he doesn't like me like that and I must be freakin' insane to even think he does on any flipping level. 

My friends will argue that last point with me, so I don't let them talk about it anymore.  He did take a picture of me once when my shirt got a little stretched out and revealed too much.  He refused to let me see it.  Part of me thinks he was being kind because I looked like hell.  The dirty old lady in me....well, she wonders my old lady saggy things didn't make it into a spank bank.

But then...I'm just a pervert and there is no reason to assume he is one, too. 

Truth is, unrequited love is deadly to a friendship and I really miss being able to be his friend. 

I've had these dreams for over six years now.  Every morning I wake up thinking that I'm broken because I want the wrong things. 

Maybe, I don't want the wrong things.  Maybe I just must have a sick subconscious desire to make my old flame throw up by seeing a little too much of me. 

May this end today.



Love ya,

S.

Next Day Edit:

I just realized something...

I want my ex to live on Fenton Street because my other ex lives less than a half-mile away. I feel both of these men in the same neighborhood. It is probably because I want to contain my old flames to a one mile stretch of town so I can easily avoid them.

They both hurt me in much the same way, I just don't let them know that I know that there were other women while we were together.  After we broke up, they both lingered around and bad-mouthed me.

This is a good thing to mentally connect them to the same neighborhood.  It means that I think of them as the same kind of people....the kind it is best to love at a distance. 

They taught me that I'm stupid.

I don't know why I love people who tear me down at every opportunity.

Why in the world should I love someone who looks at me with puppy eyes only to make fun of me on Facebook?

My other ex did the same thing. After he remarried, he tried to get me to screw him in the back seat of his car only to hire a lawyer to harass me in the court system for years.  He's the reason my name is bizarre....I'm too conservative to name myself after three 80's rock songs, so....he didn't have a clue who I was. 

No...I won't tell you the names of the songs. 

The internet screwed my name-change scheme up.  His wife quickly found me in '98.  Damn...  She used to call and ask for advice on how to deal with him.  I never knew what to say.  The last time he propositioned me was in '06.  I haven't let him near me since.  I know that when he had to be nearby, his wife always went with him.  Thank goodness, he's so good around her.  I love my replacement!!

You know....if my intuitions are right, God has given me a gift by putting the men from my past in the same neighborhood.   If I'm wrong, at least my subconscious mind has grouped them together. 
All I have to do is stay away.   I will not rent an office in the area.  I will not eat at my favorite Italian restaurant.  So, when the salaried jailers in the city where I ran for mayor leave work early and enjoy a two hour lunch at this restaurant on the taxpayer dime, I won't be there to take pictures for my reporter buddy.   I know what they're doing...one of the jailers is the mayor of a neighboring city.  It's only a matter of time before I get the evidence I need to get my friend an article that will get the whole city talking...

It'll happen...probably when people start to question why we have to buy jail services from a neighboring city.  That would be perfect timing, wouldn't it? 

Ah, but I digress. 

The subconscious mind is a funny thing....it knows exactly what I need to see to make me not want what I thought I wanted. 

I know...

My heart is a liar.

Men who love you won't act like these men do.  

Neither men ever loved me.

My heart is stupid.

I collect archaic folk recipes. I have an old wiccan recipe for a de-lusting potion that is made of the juices of various kinds of peppers. I tried that once before in '08 when the sex dreams got out of hand.


I drank it and, the truth of the matter is that brought the guy practically to my doorstep.   I drank it before I met with him, too.  I'm not sure it worked, though.  My breath must've been super intense that day! I did sweat a lot, too. 

Don't drink hot pepper sauce and expect to look pretty.  It doesn't work.
I'm going to try that potion again after I move and change my phone number.

I can't find a potion to destroy love.

The moment I do that....it will be the primary food in my diet.

I love far too much. 

Like I said, my heart is stupid. 

Cheers!