A few days ago amidst a drunken stupor and high in the clouds, I called him, the him from long ago, the one this blog began with. I called private, so stalkerish, I know. It was 4am and he didn't respond. I blamed it on the alcohol and knew that when the sun rose I would be rational again. And as I predicted, after sweet dreams, I awoke and no longer felt inclined to call him. A few days later however I put on my Thelma and Louise scarf and declared it a stalking-day. My sidekick was totally down for the mission, and come yesterday we called his phone acting like a wrong number. Pathetic right? and sober? Yes. I have given up drinking actually, it's really unhealthy, especially when you are over-indulging and for all the wrong reasons. I've been drinking a lot lately, mostly to escape my reality, this is how addictions form. I am well aware of this, but that is the next topic of conversation.
So we called and he was so aggressive and bitter, I allowed my imagination to run for a while wondering what had left him so upset with a "wrong number" caller. Hearing his voice, finally, made me want to fall in love with him all over again, until it hurts. You ever wanted to love someone until it hurts? Loving him was very painful. Sometimes I forget that. His voice was angry, the way I last heard it months ago during our last fight. It has been two months since I heard his voice. My best friend hung up and my heart sank, my legs gave out and I thought this must be what it's like to have a heart attack. The rest of the night I kept thinking he'd call back because he knew. I waited for him to say "Hey I know it's you" over the phone, especially because his voice had an accusatory tone...I guess when you're guilty it always seems like everyone knows. You think he knows? In my heart I think he does. After that call I thought that maybe I just had to see him, speak to him, that I would find him...but hearing his voice scared the shit out of me. How could you ever speak to someone who killed you? Like come on...what would I say? "Hey I know you're an ass hole and treated me like shit, but I wanted to say hi, see how you're are doing, tell you I still think about the good times and have forgotten the bad times because I have forgiven you. Hope your relationship is going well and she is everything I couldn't be for you, to you, everything you wouldn't let me be." ummmmm this is all the truth, but since when do we tell the truth anymore? Sometimes lies are more effective, sometimes I lie because if I lie to him, I can lie to myself...because the truth hurts. So maybe that call is my closure, maybe I can leave that behind, sure that I haven't ran into him because God truly works in mysterious ways...Leave it in his hands.
Now for the big picture....
I have been over indulging in every sinful pleasure there is, trust me when I say this. I was so upset over losing CEO and another failing love affair that I decided the hell with this new Eve, she is so lame...and she's always getting hurt. Ida Cox sings "Wild women don't have the blues," and you're damn right wild women don't have the blues for no man. She is free, her heart is free. I didn't always have the blues like I have them today...not as bad, nope, but I was a lot more wild back then too. So I attempted to return to wild me, over-indulging in the trio: food, alcohol and sex. "No bueno" like my CEO would say. Yes, indeed, no bueno. It seems that I had also forgotten that wild women do get the blues, the consequence blues. She has freedom, but this woman has to deal with the repercussions of her over-indulgences and they can be really intense reparations. Upon being reminded of the type of consequences wild women deal with I called it quits. I had to stop drinking and fucking and eating and getting high in this Ménage à trois and take charge of my life. It just seems like my life is stuck in a rut, in an empty humdrum existence, with series of mundane gestures that carry me through the days. Doesn't it seem like days are just rolling in and out without purpose? without direction? i feel like I just am, breathing, existing but not alive. I was so distracted by the events that make life a little spicier, that i lost focus of the big picture. Didn't this blog begin as a way of self-healing and self-discovery? Then how is that I am still punishing myself? Still participating in self-destruction and self-loathing? It's time to regroup, reevaluate. I want more...and I don't even mean that in the materialistic sense, I need to satisfy my hungry soul. I want to wake up each day with purpose, with inspiration, with motivation. So today I woke up and decided to make my way to the gym to cleanse my body and then to the park to cleanse my soul. I need to plan for the future because what these past few months post graduation have taught me is that time is not patient, it goes on and nothing you can do will stop it.
Time.
Time.
Time.
Time.
Like a Salvador Dali painting, melting away my life.
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