Thursday, May 3, 2012

Blog 74: Being Divorced...Part I (To be Scared)

Blog 74: Being Divorced…Part I (To Be Scared)


***To Be Free (Being Divorced, Part II) will be my very next Blog.***

To be honest, I am not even legally divorced yet…when it came to my ex-husband and I going our separate ways, I took care of the selling of the restaurant and the losing of the house…His job was to do the divorce, over 3 years later, he has finally made a slow start on the process…chicken fucker…speed that shit up…please…

In my head, I have been divorced for a long time…the only thing I have talked to my ex about in the last two years is him starting the divorce, I know nothing of his life only that he has a child with someone else…mentally I vacated the relationship long ago…legally, I simply yearn for my maiden name of “Powers” to be restored…for that is my father’s name and the bloodline of my royalty…

I consider myself divorced, in all senses of the word…I am just waiting for that wonderful piece of paper.

And then…I shall truly be a divorcee.

I will have admitted true failure…defeat…inadequate thinking capabilities…

I think that is the hardest part about going through the divorce thing, knowing I made such a bad choice, not following my instincts, putting all my energy into someone else and not into myself…knowing that I am capable of believing so much in a notion, that never really truly made me happy.

The mistakes I made have left me scared shitless.

Unable to move, petrified with fear…I often ponder if I will ever let my guard down, ever let someone truly in…ever fully be able to relax in another man’s presence.

Sometimes I feel like I am encompassed in a cocoon, fighting to break free, to let go, but the memories of my past tightened around me like a noose after the chair has been kicked…

I am trapped by fear.

From time to time I simply feel like laying in the fetal position, holding myself tight…taking comfort in the warmth of my own arms…

Yet the safety I feel by myself does not dull my thoughts…

When I met my husband at the age of nineteen, I thought that being in a relationship was not only what I was suppose to do, but what was going to make me happy…with age I have recognized with pure delight that I don’t need a man to make me happy, I need to make myself happy.

That lesson has come at a high price.

I have shut my heart off…terrified of repeating my past.

To the point that when I go out on dates I get all freaked out over the stupidest stuff…he touched me…he smelled my hair (what is going on with the flood of peeps trying to smell my hair lately, I don’t get it…and it kinda wigs me out)…he is too into me…his index finger is longer than his middle finger…and so forth and so forth..

If a date does lead to a second or a third, I really start to loose my shit…my friend, who always calls me out on shit (like cutting my hair) will interrupt me as I start to laminate over stupid petty shit and say, “ohhh, here goes Sunny, a guy is into her and she gets all spooked and starts to freak out, cause for some reason she can’t handle it when boys are into her.”…I really hate it when he calls me out on that shit, cause I know he is right...he makes me so mad with his mind reading abilities…

And I have pushed many a man away…

I turned down a man that wanted to drive me around while I blow bubbles out the window, buy me a computer and take me to Hawaii…I ran so fast from that…that shit hit me like a shock wave…dude being nice, homie totally into me…whoaaaaaaa, that was a notion I was not ready for.

Maybe that is it too…maybe I am just not ready.

It makes sense if you look at the choices I have made…the only relationship I was able to manage was a long-distance-non-committed relationship with a man who told me many a times that he was, “destined to be alone”…a princess I might be, but my powers pale in comparison to that of one’s chosen path…

A glutton for punishment?...Or a chance to continue to keep my walls up?...An opportunity to learn how to love again without the need to let go…

The independent woman that I have become is to self-willed.

The softness that comes from letting your heart open and be loved has the texture of stone within me…and while this quest has led to a self-satisfaction I once only imagined, I often wonder if it is worth the sacrifice.

Yet the damage has already been done.

How long till the medicine takes?

Sometimes I simply stare out my window wondering when I will let my guard down…when the trepidation will subside…then I come to terms with the fact that to theorize this ideal, is simply a waste of time…for only time can heal certain wounds…

And only time will tell.

To be truthful, while I am full of apprehension…I also lavish this time by myself…while it can be lonely at times, it is mine…to put towards me…something I have never had the opportunity to do before…to be freely me…

But those are words I shall speak…this very next week.


DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

THE SEWING MACHINE

Start by threading the needle…this involves pulling the thread from the spool around the eye-hook-action-ness and then looping it around the thingy-mo-bob and finally threading it through the needle (sometimes you need to lick the thread to make it all taunt-like so you can get it through the head of the needle)…now line up your fabric straight and get it all ready to sew…this might involve pulling it, making last minute cuts and such…now put the fabric under the needle and pull the level so the foot-thingy clasps the fabric firm and put both hands on either side of the needle…(as you are doing this, bring your right foot forward about a ten inches and touch your heel to the floor bringing your toes up on the pedal)…now as you press the peddle down push the fabric under the needle, keep going…now give me some reverse-forward action-ness to keep the stitch…cut the thread, hold up to examine…yeah we might want to take some sewing classes…yikes.

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