February 13th, 2011


The tokens left by the dead

They surround my heart
They surround my head

I'm surrounded by the tokens of the dead I have known, cared about and loved.

Organizing things to sell I come across my past, which I can also consider dead. Though at times lately it seems the past was so full of life that in my time of darkness that it buoys me up with rushes of remembrance.

1987 I started to become my own person and not the construct. I tried to grow in all ways positive. I failed and yet didn't.

Seeing what my illness and my changes has done to me on a purely physical level - I almost wish I could shout "Do over!" and find myself on my way to London in 1997. Would I go to the concert with Eartha's help again?

Knowing what I do of the changes wrought in my true love that have made him somebody I fear and do not trust, would I give up that perfect bliss?

I doubt he loved me truly. I fear he thought he knew what love meant, only to find that when it came time for hospitalization and pain and nausea so severe that he could not go with me down the road together. His love ended years before he knew it no matter of what type it was. He goes behind my back to speak with lawyers about what we are supposed to be handling together. I told him point blank tonight I felt as if he had stabbed me multiple times in the back. As he indeed did. I don't know that I have any reasons to trust him and I must find a lawyer of my own. Court divorce after all. I gave him all the love and support and bare honesty within me. Stupid. And so I go through my boxes with the jewelry and photos of the dead dear to me and I mourn the loss of them and I mourn the loss of a generous and kind and patient and loving man for a person who has layers of rock and ice around his emotions. How come the death of the very soul of my soul mate equals for me the death of my friends? I suppose because they work out to be equal in the end.