Tuesday

If any stars aligned, they were surely tricksters.  Maybe "soul mates" are people that force you to grow into who you were meant to be.

The sun rises now a little after 5 am.  The robin (maybe more than one, but the nearest one was quite dominant) begins it's song around 3, it loudly echos in the dark.  Other, more chatter-y birds, joined in for a while, closer to the house.  I woke up every hour last night, the room too hot to stay asleep.  Fell back asleep instead of getting up at 5:30, and woke up again, after 7 am, late, with lingering film in my mind from last dream, that may or may not have involved a mass kidnapping, never did figure it out, but there was a cult-like figure in charge, and I was making plans for escape.

Went to water late, waiting for the sun to drop behind the trees.  A bunch of kids came tearing through the garden playing "tag" in the fading light.  The heat and the laughter made me believe it was actually summer, but it's still spring, and a school night at that.

Later, 9-ish, walking out of the house to write, (and find some cooler air) and read up on what I'm supposed to be doing as a site leader, I found all the cafes closed early.  Crossed to the park, stopped by an opening of the trees to watch several bats darting over the lake, the first of the season for me.  The air is full now of insects in the evenings, more than I've ever seen here.  The water smelt like raw sewage, but I stood for a while anyway and watched the bats.  Walked back up toward the house, and stopped at the pub to write, because it was open, and always is rather cold inside.  Ordered soup (because it was the least expensive thing on the menu) and wrote.

I know I have my faults too, for one thing, I'm stubborn, and I have a hard time letting go of hurts and bridging the gap to make amends.  (Though, once cleared, I won't tend to bring them up again, unless it becomes a continual pattern.  And forgiveness sometimes includes walking away.)  And I'm not the woman I hope to be, but I can see glimpses of that now, which is hopeful.  At any rate, it wasn't all bad, and I don't mean to imply it was, there were some moments of real connection and deep conversation, and some support, and sometimes fun, and he could be really generous, just not in the way I needed (time, connection, communication, affection), and not often enough, and when we didn't connect and didn't try, it was painful; and I don't have the energy or desire to deal with mind-fuckery right now (whether actually intentional, resulting from cluelessness, or only received/perceived by me as such because of my own insecurities or baggage, or a combination of the three-the latter of which would call for self-examination for sure.  And was it a sabotage of yourself, of me, or just a passive way of pushing me away?)  Does any of that matter now?  I need to take care of myself for a while.  (For nine months though, I chose you every day.  You rarely chose me.)