It is the eve of my 34th birthday. I am curled up at home in my favourite chair with a soft blanket and candles lit.
sick. I know.
I am looking back on my year.
I did things, lots of creative things. I stressed out about not doing enough creative things. I went on a cleanse…
…and on day 8 I crapped my pants.
I found a great yoga teacher who taught me after 15 years of practice I don’t actually know anything about yoga.
I made a pact with God that my mother wouldn’t die until she got to have a meaningful relationship with her (yet to be born) grandchildren.
I got in a fight with my best friend and I’m not sure if it’s better yet.
I am still harsh with my boyfriend. This is what I mostly want to talk about. This need I have to push him away. The expectation that he needs to be perfect and every little kiss that is too tight or comment that annoys me spins me into judgment-that I am not happy, that I want something else.
His imperfections shoot beams of glaring light past all the love.
And they are not his imperfections. They are my fucking weird issue that I cannot handle human frailty. I actually want to eat it alive.
Is this normal?
It is my 34th birthday and I want to soften.
I want to be able to receive his kind and generous love.
I want to be turned on by stability and comfort.
I want to be able to be vulnerable and be able to simply love him back, now.
No mind strings or longings for other and better elite imaginings.
I want to settle down.
Right now I feel closed off. I feel scared. I feel negative. And I am so sick of it.
And I do compare him to the other one.
The old one.
The one who was unpredictable and so much fun.
The one who danced me into a corner and all eyes were always on us.
The one who was always frequent flying away from me, breaking my heart.
He made me fight for his love and fighting for things make them more worthwhile right?
And I have a story about the old one that he did it for me in a way I’m afraid I will never get to feel again. And I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about this amazing sense of freedom I felt.
laughing hysterically, doing E, smoking dope,
being a clown.
It was a time where a lot of my dreams were made in the shade.
When I didn’t have a home, a dog and a sick mom. When I was young. When it was easy to have fun.
And now years later, on the eve of my birth I am thinking about that time and this time and the crossroads dressed as two very different men.
And as I turn down one path I turn against the other and it hurts. It really, really hurts to grow.
I feel like I am in the movie Stand By Me and I have just seen the dead body by the tracks. Summer is over and it’s time to start the walk home.
My wish this year is to open.
To open into for real, everyday, honest and brave love.
I do not know how to do this. I do not know how to begin?
But I do know that I don’t want to be inconsistent anymore- like a lighthouse beam-flash, dark, flash, dark, flash.
I want my love to have a constant glow. Ya know?
I don’t really need to say that my new man is invincible and he is the best I’ll ever get and I am a fool for even mentioning it and I’m an asshole to compare him to someone who is just a symbol anyway.
I don’t know if there is any better or worse out there and that doesn’t matter to me. What I know is that I love him and I choose him and I want to work through this raw fish skin layer of myself with him and it’s my 34th birthday tomorrow so now is the time to start.
Have you ever tried to cut through a fish’s raw skin? It’s fucking crazy tough. You gotta’ use a special fish skin cutting knife for the job.
Happy Birthday to me.
Thanks for listening.