Warm to my bones

Coming slowly to my senses, no, more the gradual return of feeling to the places with in side of me which had grown numb.

Supposing that all of the time I spent not feeling has any conditioning affect on me in the long run?

There has been a fair amount of water and a large number of bridges in the last year. A lot of that is on me. I am a fire person. I like to burn things. I like to watch metal turn from a solid state, breakdown, become molten. I know that a well tempered weld is stronger than the original steal steel.

Years ago in, high school, my mother told me that the people I thought were my friends were not actually friends. I argued that we would be friends for ever. I was wrong.

I dreamed of walking through a diffuse Seattle with a man approaching silver fox status. We wandered a deserted pikes market and drank an espresso from a woman who eyed my candy. We bought coffee and since the Italian roast was to my lovers liking we bought dark roasted beans and a colorful counter-top espresso maker in a teal or red.

Earlier I dreamed dreams of despair and again back to the feeling of losing things that I didn’t realize I could lose. The feeling that trust misplaced is dangerous.

Again, California, what a disastrous mess. I had so much pride that I was unable to call the farm, tell them what was going on, express the simple basics of the situation, ask from help from the people qualified to provide it. Instead, fingers tight around my throat the walls shaking, the rage of a man struggling to put my face on his demons.

I see things now that I haven’t ever seen before. I am whole in a way that means I have been taken apart, examined, left dusty pieces abandoned, retired the junk, removed the treasures: fractured; divided; made into pieces.

Pieces once removed are able to be refit, welded back to the whole after careful examination, cleaning. With considered precision I re-knit the fabric of my being I am often at a loss. I find I make poor choices and hear a voice telling me that no man will want me, that I am not a real woman, that I don’t have anything to offer.

I find I make positive choices and I hear no voice in my head. I find I make a choice to stop listening to that voice and accept very much that to each day the struggles are sufficient.

I have been exercising. My lungs hurt. I need to do laundry.