two things can be true at once
a midnight rant about all of it
i am a writer, speaker, and musician devoted to healing and embodiment.
it’s time to write you again my loves.
why? because life is a veritable shit show.
full of beauty and pain and laughter and joy all bundled up together.
and because i’m all spun around and it’s midnight.
today mel graduated.
on the same day she walked across that stage, her boyfriend — the one she spent the whole year with, the one she took a senior trip to japan with — broke up with her.
two things can be true at once.
so she was very sad. instead of going out to brunch she just came home and cried.
and i sat with her. because i know something about that.
about loving someone and having the floor drop out on the same day you were supposed to be celebrating.
the surgeon calling me as i sat to have lunch in the hospital courtyard in the sun.
no, it wasn’t scar tissue from the first operation.
every inch of finn’s colon was covered in cancer nodules.
that’s why he was throwing up nonstop.
that’s why.
he was dying. not healing.
and then there’s the estrangement from my family.
the family we no longer see.
but they see me.
or they see my writing.
but that’s it.
roses. dropped off at the end of the driveway.
roses for mel.
but roses mean nothing
when underneath
lies betrayal.
and betrayal doesn’t just show up with thorns.
sometimes it shows up with flowers too.
that’s what people don’t understand.
but i don’t do that.
i don’t pretend to be on someone’s side and then quietly not be.
homey don’t roll that way.
and then there's the other kind of loss.
the heartbreak kind.
but aren't they all heartbreak, after all?
someone i somehow fell for because he first swooped into my dms here. i wrote about him in a recent post.
and i want to write about what happens when you feel so drawn to someone that age doesn’t matter. that their unhealed wounds don’t seem to matter.
until they do.
because while he future-dreamed with me and said i love you and babygirl and all the rest — he was also very conflicted about so much.
and my nervous system picked up on this.
it always does.
i watched mel cry today and realized i felt neutral about my own situation.
neutral? or maybe it’s dissociated.
like my body had already done the math even before my mind caught up.
the push pull. the familiarity.
to that same damned cycle my whole damn life.
i didn’t just fall for someone so much younger than me. i fell for a soul that moved me. the age was just a number.
until it wasn’t.
he is still becoming himself while i am already fully myself.
i just wish he didn’t swoop back in all drunk and sweet after pushing me away tonight.
and, and, and…yada, yada, yada.
you know how it goes.
it’s not his fault. and it’s not mine either.
why do we fall so hard for the familiar?
why am i only attracted to the ones who bring me right back to the inconsistent love?
why does my oldest go through everything i do, every single time?
fuck. fuck. fuck.
sorry to swear. it just feels so good sometimes to use the fucking words that give a little more weight to what we all feel. does it not?
i feel like screaming from the top of a mountain sometimes.
some things just need to be said out loud before they can move.
i lit a candle to write tonight.
it is oddly comforting.
sure, i have some of the house lights on too. and i am typing on a computer not writing with a quilled pen.
but still — i get why people could get into a sweet flow back when the candle was the only light after dark.
the old world.
i am so ready to move back to the old world, to southern spain.
i am ready for a change.
i am ready to spread my wings.
i am ready to not be thankful for the gate at the end of my driveway keeping out the ones who should have had my back all along.
thank god that gate won’t be coming with me.
it’s all ok though.
oh how i miss the sweet young human who swooped in and showed me raw love though— even if he has to move on now.
love doesn’t care about age or timing or how ready someone is.
love doesn’t understand such silly matters as that.
only father time helps heal the wounds of love and heartbreak.
father time.
i guess it’s time for bed.
i’m so tired lately.
so many of us are.
it’s not just the constant screens.
it’s not just the running ragged at the seams.
it’s a deep soul tired from these times.
birthing is tiring.
and that’s what we are doing as a planet — whether we realize it or not.
we are birthing a new earth.
and it fucking hurts in the birth canal.
ok. enough said.
i love you.
i am a writer, speaker, and musician devoted to healing and embodiment. i share essays, poetry, and original music through venus consciousness. i’d love to walk this path with you. 💞
Teared up reading this one - right after I lit a candle and sat down to read one article before doing some writing of my own.
When is truth not a rant? When it's heartfelt and straight without a sanitizer to make it clean and fresh, just raw and present. I feel for the kids, I really do. Life seems sometimes to be unfair. I've felt that too. It hurts being birthed they tell me. I don't remember. I agree a new Earth is being born. Thank you for being here and sharing all you do. I know it's not easy at times to do.