Void

Want to know what it feels like, to have a man, that has claimed to love you for over 13 years, sell you dreams, and keep you living in hope, tear your heart out in one swipe? Me too…because right now, I’m not feeling anything. Oh…I know I will. I know that in a few hours, when the shock subsides (not the shock of it happening-just the feeling) I will feel it. I’m imagining it similar to all the other times, but more of Mack truck like effect. Because this is it. The last time.
I know…drama drama drama right? But he ended it, again, and this time it’s done. Not because he says it is…but because I don’t have the energy to keep fighting. Not because I don’t love him, but because I just can’t do it any more. I can’t.
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Right now I’m just a huge messed up ball of anger, and hurt and confusion. Right now I want to hurt somebody, and if nobody gets in my way, I’m guessing it will be me. Right now, I don’t care about anything or anyone, much less myself.
 But in the morning, when I can see clearly enough, process the thoughts that are spinning in an out of control fashion around my head currently, in a weakly diluted (okay barely diluted at all) bath of wine and whiskey…I’m going to feel every single little part of the hurt, and betrayal and loss.17362774_1027317360737433_2339336717897629705_n
Someone said to me tonight “It was a betrayal of love, and a betrayal of you. You fight for love, and he plays with it”. Well, I don’t like this game, and I can’t play it any more. I have fought for too long, to get to the castle, to be told that the game is over before it begins. And the thing with games, is that they come with consequences. If you land on the corner square, you go to jail. If you land on a ladder, you slide down it. If you hurt somebody, that is strong enough to have dealt with your bullshit for 5 fucking years (not including the stint 8 years before that again), you need to expect, that before they are gone, they will show you what it’s like to feel.
17012372_10211245417504954_1407257881_n.pngConsequences. Something he has never had to deal with. Because he trusts that he is loved, and while love has never been enough for him to return, to commit to, he thinks it is enough to protect him.
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He says he wants to be alone, period. So, he can be. And I will make sure of it. Vindictive-sure. Vengeful-maybe. Justice-fuck yes. I’m guessing at this point, there may be a person or two out there, wondering just how much they have under-estimated me, or my affinity for evil? For truth? Perhaps even under-estimated my lack of resourcefulness and memory? And I can say this, because I’m a bottle of wine and half a dozen good (fuck your Scotch) Irish whiskies to the wind. I can say it because lack of inhibition, apparently lets me say whatever I want, to whoever I want (those people know who they are tonight, and I regret nothing!)

But for now, I will sob, and despair, and be fucked up. Let all who wish to judge, kiss my lily-white arse. I deserve to feel exactly how this feels to me. I deserve to hurt and bleed and pine, and ache and long. I deserve to feel what this man has done to me for so long, that I may be able to one day, finally, let go of all of the light and goodness, that I see in him, still. I deserve to grieve and be hurt, and be bitter, and angry and resentful. I deserve to question and doubt, and know that he has done the wrong thing to me, when all I ever wanted for him was good. I deserve to know that I didn’t do this. that I was not to blame. That I have nothing to be ashamed of. That LOVE is nothing to be ashamed of.
5f1e127976647cf347fb3500479d4a93You see, all along, people have said that losing love is like grieving a loss. And I have known both, so not to diminish anything, but…there’s this. This. This is a decision. He decided that love was not enough. that I was not enough. He decided not to choose me. He weighed up the options, of which there are countless, thought about it…and decided that he didn’t love me enough. Loss is not a choice. this. This is a choice. I was not enough.

It is not my fault, I know. But it is my pain to bear. That this person I love so very much, my soulmate, the person I would give everything for, that told me until this week began that he loved me, wanted me…thinks I am not enough for him. He would be alone, over making a life with me. He would choose nothing, over me. Let that sink in, because it’s taking a while for me.
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So now, I’m going to go and try and sleep this off. This initial fucked up knee-jerk reaction to pain. I will wake up feeling sick and worse off for it, and steel myself to go to work and put on a brave face, when all I want to do is be alone and feel the entirety of this…void. And maybe he’ll show enough respect to just explain anything, and maybe he won’t. I don’t know why he’d start now, to be honest. It doesn’t seem that it’s been a high priority to this point. But the consequences…they will come. After all, who am I to stand in the way of a mans true desires?

Goodnight Kids. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. Or Karma.
V

 

Shades of Grey

The last few weeks have been grey. I’d say black, but black is black…devoid of all light and hope, and they weren’t that, but for a few moments. Those moments felt like forevers at the time, but they were only moments never the less, and they passed. Grey is just bleak, with the light trying to shine through, but failing in part.
Nothing went epically wrong, it’s just that nothing went particularly right either. Lots of small things amounted to an almost overwhelming sense of disappointment and failure. It’s a feeling that I know is exaggerated and untrue, but emotions are the hardest thing for most of us to control, and you can either shrug it off as the professionals do, or submit to it.
The vivid, bad dreams, the small problems and setbacks, the lack of prospects, people that matter giving a distinct lack of fucks…all added up to grey. The emotions were running at an all time high, and I guess I just gave in for a while. You can only stay positive for so long, until a pressure crack forms and starts to let this stuff in.

I guess what all that grey added up to, was a massive amount of thinking, over-thinking and searching. I felt disappointed…in myself more than anything else. That I am trying so hard to not only stay above everything, but move forward and do better things, and it’s not happening yet. That it’s all so slow and time-consuming with no fast result. I have made all of these decisions and choices to change things, and they are just staring back at me, with this quizzical expression on their inanimate faces. And then I start to wonder, if any of it will make one fucking iota of difference in the scheme of things anyway? (Did I mention the over-thinking?).

This grey washes everything out, and brings with it, a lack of motivation, which in turn makes everything worse. I can see this unfold before my eyes, and just feel horribly apathetic about the whole shebang. ‘Housework can wait, this is too much effort, that goes in the too hard basket, nobody gives a fuck anyway, who’ll ever know, what’s the point??’
But the truth of it, is that it doesn’t matter who else knows, or gives a fuck…because I should. Because I want to. Because I do.

I spoke with a friend last night, and we arrived at pretty much this conclusion too. That, if the ultimate meaning of life has escaped everyone else thus far, then it probably doesn’t realistically exist, or if it does, we are to find our own. That we are all just here to live out our days, and then move on. So living is what we should do. To make the most of what we have, are, do.

That all sounds easy enough right? Until another person comes into your equation and makes it all the more complicated. It changes your perspective of life, and the meaning of it. It changes your ideas, of what you want from time, without you even consciously realising it. And then, there you are one day, sitting there wondering how the fuck everything blindsided you in plain sight. How did it all change so much? How did you let this happen? Did you agree to it? Did you ask for it? Do you want it? Wtttfffff?? So many shades of Grey. (I did mention the over-thinking right?)
And of course, most days you can keep on keeping on, being hopeful, being resilient, being positive, being deflective, being cheerful, being fake, being strong, being productive, being closed, being ignorant, being…busy.
Those things are not always as bad as they sound either. Being busy and productive, will eventually lead to better things, if I just keep at them. Looking for better work, will mean more inspiring things, to consume my time and bring higher purpose and confidence. A new horse in the stable will lead to less stress and better access to opportunity. More time spent on purposeful things, will mean less time to spend over-thinking (I believe I did mention that pastime previously) the void. But emotionally, it still leaves gaps that can’t be filled with work, or money.

I guess this is where the hope comes into it. The notion that allows me to get one foot in front of the other every day, despite the muscle resistance to do so. The belief that intentions can translate to reality, and words into actions. The hope that, when the universe has repeatedly sustained its idea, that some things are destined somehow…that perhaps there is substance to that. That, some things cannot be denied, despite the struggle.
So, after that somewhat disjointed rant, which seemed perfectly fluid as I wrote it, I’m going to keep doing some of the productive, busy stuff. To keep trying to changes those shades to a more defined colour, and keeping hope that one day, the palette will reflect brighter colours.

Stay busy, or stay happy Kids.
V

I’d buy that for a dollar.

I’ve started a Go Fund Me account. “Another one?”, I hear you whisper irritatedly…Yes, but this one is different. Now let me tell you why.

People start these things for wild selfish, stupid, irrelevant and greedy reasons every day-A new dishwasher, a trip to Disneyland. Others just to jump on a bandwagon of sorts-popular stuff. Others again, for just causes that are close to them. This one is the last reason…and to prove a very emphatic point. I keep saying that every dollar counts, every little bit means a big bit, so it’s time to be the vehicle, to put our collective money where that mouth is. So, here’s what I’m asking of you all, and why…

I know two people right now, who are battling Cancer. The big C. The destroyer of lives. The unspoken horror. And what they need the most, is hope. Hope that everything is going to be okay, that they can get the treatment they require to make it through, that they will win. Disgusted as I am to admit it, one of the things that can give them hope…is money. In a material world, they need money to pay for hope.

Now, I’m not asking for  ‘just the cost of a cup of coffee’. Please don’t go without coffee. I beg you…have coffee. The world doesn’t need to see that shit. If the world was full of decaffeinated people, a war could likely break out (albeit, ultimately, a slightly lethargic one).
I’m not asking for you to give every last cent you have, or sacrifice anything to make a donation to people you may not even know. All I’m asking for…is TWO DOLLARS.
To most people, a few dollars is little, the change floating in the bottom of your handbag, clogging the coin section of your wallet, jingling in your pocket. It is the scrap at the end of the day, thrown frivolously in the coin jar. It is little.
But to these two people, and their families, it really is a LOT.
For those of you who don’t know me, I lost my Mother to Cancer when I was very young, and my Uncle years later. One of my longest friends, just lost her Mother in the same fashion, and the list goes on. I have never donated to Cancer funds, as I don’t believe the money should go to useless research and red tape. I have fundraised and donated personally to animal rescues, where pets have lost their providers. To the people of Vanuatu in Cyclone Pam, where people lost their homes and livelihoods, I support anti-BSL, where dogs have lost their voice. And now it’s time to donate to families that could lose someone. Corey & Scott, Two Fathers, Friends, Lovers, Partners, Sons. Real people.

For anyone who has ever withheld a donation, because it ‘wasn’t enough’, because they were embarrassed they could not donate more, who couldn’t afford it…this is your chance to step up and make a huge difference. The donation limit will be set at $5. So you can donate from $2-$5 ONLY. (It was originally going to be $1, but the GoFundMe fees take almost 40c in each single dollar donation)
On the link, you will see a brief of their stories-in the updates after the initial post (so you know it’s all legit), and can donate however you choose. When the goal is reached, the money will be split straight down the middle and forwarded directly to each family. They will both also be sent a link to the account, so they can see just how many people cared enough, to take 5 minutes of their time and donate just two single dollars, in the name of hope, and love, and everything that is right with the world.
This is the link to donate
https://www.gofundme.com/buying-hope

Hundreds of you read this blog. Thousands are on my Facebook pages. Every share reaches more people again. Just two dollars from not even half of those, will get this to it’s goal limit.
Please be a part of something good. Something that I believe, can not only make a big difference, but also prove a wonderfully humane point.

T.I.A troops.
V