| Feb. 6th, 2008 @ 08:58 pm Turned Tables |
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| Well to get you up to speed Mr. Super Con. I have been dating this Girl named Catherine Dobbs. She lives in San Antonio,TX and is 25. She is very sweet but so insecure. It's sad. She was raped for her first experience. Super sad. A damaged girl. She spent Christmas 2007' with me and it was great I mean really awesome (See DVD) A loving girl with a heart of gold. The only thing I had a hard time with is that she is so much like my mother that is bothered me. The same negative, negative, negative stuff day after day. I try and tell myself people in that chronic state are like pigs in shit. They enjoy being that way, it's their way of dealing with life. But it's just not my way. I am a thumper, a mover, a shaker. After 4 months I just could not take it anymore and I broke up with her a few days ago. She of course flipped out and called me insensitive and cold.I really didn't know any other way to do it and even now I am still talking to her. I finally felt for once in my life that I had to decide for myself and not for anyone else that it wasn't for me and I wanted out. The sad part is that I can now see all the pain from rejection that I felt with Denise for myself. It's mirrored in her. It's almost an unbearable feeling. The heartache, the tears, the lonely nights. The phone doesn't ring anymore. It's a dark pain, a mourning. It's death really. I find love to be like life. It starts a beautiful baby full of life and joy. Extreme joy. Pleasure. It's grows into vibrancy, becomes a sunburst and fades like an incoming thunderstorm. The rains come, the clouds roll in. Night fall and it dies. Los Muertos. The death. It's dark, cold, a funeral, a mourning, a wake. Acceptance and you move on. When you think back on it it's like an old friend that passed. You think of the good times, the glory days, the long nights of passion. The smell, god their smell. Those old beat up plaid PJ's she wore with the raggidly bottoms. Her feet and her hips and the way her hair looked in the wind. These are the memories I will remember as an old man sitting in my rocking chair. The days of thunder when I was on fire and in love. I feel Catherine's pain, her sorrow. Her anger. I want love, she wants love, we all want acceptance. We want to be held and carresed and told we are beautiful. That we are wanted, needed, loved. I feel her saddness in my bones, in my very soul. |
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