Waking from a dream, realizing a truth

Have you ever remembered something that changed how you thought about your past?

I know that many of my readers have. Generally those memories rip you apart. They are wounds hidden by scars that the mind has hidden.

My dream this morning featured a man from my past I hadn’t thought about in a long time. We fell out of touch. Basically because I felt he was using my generosity too much. Something that was probably true but I never told him about it. I just let the friendship drift off.

But this man was someone who I was kind to for no ulterior motive. No profit was to be had from helping him out. And we used to hang out and talk and go to raves monthly. This was when I was much younger.

I’ve always thought that the man I was prior to Morgan was a monster. And, viewing things from a certain, even common, perspective that’s true. But there were also this man and a few others who I was generous with my time and availability.

My friend had a bad home life. He was homeless most of the time. I can remember, at the end of some nights where we had gone out, that me taking him home consisted of taking him to a particular dumpster behind a office building. Because that was where he was living.

I would buy him food. He would shower at my house when we would hang out there. For a couple of years there he was one of the few people in my life not tied to family or the job.

One day he told me that his uncle had died and left him a place in Hawai’i. I hope that was true and that he is living there off his uncle’s money, like he said. After he told me that, I never heard from him again.

I can picture everything about him. Where he lived, all the various places. His presence. His laugh. The sound of his voice. But I can’t remember his name.
That makes me sad. Like he’s lost somehow.

But he was in a dream tonight. And despite the content of that dream, which is complicated and I won’t get into. Despite that I woke remembering all the little things that I did to try and help him. And this was pre Morgan. So, the generous, kind man. The man I’ve thought for years was the product of my harrowing. Existed before her.

Maybe that’s who I am. I won’t say that I am not the other, the man of darkness and blood. But that it was, apparently always tempered by light.

I’ll never be a sunlight creature. My heart and thoughts churn too heavy and turgid. But neither am I a creature of absolute darkness, nor(apparently) was I ever. So here I am. A creature of the twilight.
The grey. Between one thing and another.

But knowing that if I fall, it won’t be into complete darkness. Instead, there will be a path out. Forged of the things that I am.

Knowing your experiences, your memories. Accepting them. Sometimes they burn away who you are and break your mind and world. Sometimes they remind you that the false image built on fear and despair is just that, false.

Haunting one’s own corpse

I look to you as succor to my pain
For who am I but yours
Though discarded on distant shores
Made weird and glimmer
Sounds filter through memory
Like the distant slow ringing of bells
But to you is where my thoughts turn
Fools to seek what was lost
A drowning and drunk dream
Waking
Knowing only the cracks as it comes
Crashing down

Life and other dreams

When I first talked with her it was through comments on a thing I wrote. That happened more and more until I felt I was getting to know her. Then I said I was falling for someone and she knew though I didn’t say that it was her. We started talking in earnest and it seemed to be going well. Then tragedy struck and we seemed to be getting through that. I was right on the verge of saying, “We need to meet in person.” And as I was typing that to her, I found myself blocked. She’d ghosted me. I was destroyed. Beyond destroyed, devistated.

My friend helped me pick up the pieces. It took 4 months before I wasn’t I complete mess. Then as my life got back to something resembling good, she messaged me. Out of the blue. Explaining and apologizing. I’d let her go. Let the pain go.
I was with someone which ultimately fizzled and now we’re just friends.
And after it fizzled we allowed each other back into our lives. And it was good. Not like it was but still really good. But now she’d push me away and I’d not let her. I’m not a idiot, I saw what was happening and I don’t want, didn’t want to let her go.

Then she came to me completely rational and told me that she couldn’t be with me and work through what she needed to work through.

I said ok. I said it more eloquently than that but that’s what I said. What else could I say?
I would do anything for her and if the thing I could do was leave her to heal on her own without me, then of course I had to let her go.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t still love her. Or, if I’m not with anyone, would not want to be with her. I still think about her all the time. I used to dream that I slept by her side. Those dreams are gone.

I would never have left her if she didn’t request it. Life is the stupidest rigged game you’ll ever participate in. Even if you think you know what is happening, you never really do. 
So I took this down, put it up, took it down, I edited it, life….it sucks. 

Garden without the goddess

I sit in a garden waiting for it’s owner to come back.

She who causes my heart to soar and bleed with her words.

I wait, because this place is hers and someday, she may come back

I wait, because my heart demands I walk in its rows and amidst it’s ripening and look out
over the horizon to see her coming back.

I close my eyes and remember.
Kissed by the sun, blessed by the wind and the lightly falling rain.
I wait.

I’ll keep coming by. Watering the plants. Talking as if you were there. always hoping that I’ll turn around, and you’ll be there.

But I fear, this garden and the words you shout, are all I have left.