Days of Wonder

We are children, waking to find our parents’ divorce ripping through our pristine lives like a tornado, tossing illusions aside, scattered into the screaming winds.

We are heartbroken, cast aside lovers, anguished to see our beloved merrily traipsing through daisies, holding another’s hand, while we languish in despair.

We are destitute spouses, bereaved and bereft when the banks come calling, demanding payments on debts never discussed, kept secret until now.

We are a nation in chaos, traveling through harsh terrain with the world watching every misstep, every protest, every internal battle laid bare.

We are an entire country stuck in transitions in time.



It’s such a strange word….boyfriend. The last time I had one of those, I was only 24. I honestly thought I had outgrown it, in some sense. That any relationship I would be in would jump from dating to fiancĂ© (hell, maybe skip the dating part even, like I was some kind of Disney princess)- and why not? Wouldn’t I already know that was what I wanted, and wouldn’t that be the whole point? Wouldn’t that make a great story? Like my friend Helena (sidenote – as a Shakespeare addict, one of my all-time favorite names), who went on a first date and ended up engaged at the end of the night. True story. They’ve been married for over 30 years. Wouldn’t that be just so wonderfully dramatic?

But, to my surprise, I have a boyfriend…and yes I love him, but I love IT too. The title. The in-betweenness of it. The pacing of slowly meeting the people in each other’s world, of seeing what that feels like and whether it works (and so far, so good there!) The careful deliberate consideration of what the word means, of what we mean. The dealing with the leftovers we each still have.

I mean, let’s face it. We both were different people just two months ago, at least in terms of connections and expectations. We both are slowly coming out of times of major transitions. We both are sick of drama, and cautious of causing pain, and grateful to have found someone so compatible in so many ways….so, a good start. We both have lived through enough to know that a good start is just that – a start. We both have the tendency to jump into the future, but this is thankfully forcing us to pay attention, close attention, to the present.

I didn’t think I wanted a boyfriend, but it feels right…maybe I’ve finally lost my taste for the stupidly dramatic. Maybe not – my first birthday present to him involves fireworks, because why should it be small? Still, it’s progress for me that these are literal…I’ll keep my feet on the ground as I marvel at the show in the sky.

An Honest Question

Seriously, what’s right in this situation? If you’re still in love with someone who’s now gone, should you not go out with other people? I think the answer to that one is clear…it’s all about full disclosure, right? Well, maybe. Because you can’t help whether the other person will develop strong feelings for you, and maybe you shouldn’t even start with them, to pre-empt a broken heart. Maybe.

Does that mean that you should just stay at home, alone, all the time? But on the other hand, does that mean that you’re essentially using the other person just for company? I hope not. I guess not. Is it wrong that I want to go out to see a movie, and that I know a person of the male persuasion who’s fun to be with and would be happy to go with me? Even when I’m still writing angsty, lovesick poetry about the last person I was (albeit briefly) with?

And that brings me to another question. Said person left me while we were having a wonderful time for the stated reasons that he didn’t feel as strongly about me as I did about him, and that he didn’t see himself marrying a woman who already had children. So there was no future here for him, and therefore the present had to stop. This was during a very early stage in our relationship, and he said that it would pre-empt our inevitably getting serious. Pre-empt my broken heart, I guess.

But it was too late. I was already completely smitten, and the broken heart has been very real and very painful. At this point, it’s gone on for three months, much longer than the one week (yes, I know, I understand, I fell too fast, too quickly, got that already) we were dating.

So, the question is, should I not date the new person of male persuasion because I also think that it’s likely there’s no future here? He’s a different religion, albeit very friendly towards mine. And that’s a major dealbreaker for me in terms of a future serious relationship. But the real reason is…well, I’m still in love with someone else. And is it fair to date someone new when I think there’s no future, because I can’t imagine that my feelings will grow to match what I’ve already felt?

A full circle of confusion that’s running around in my head. I guess this is the same dilemma everyone has, when starting something new after life has happened.

I’m broken

I thought I was whole, I really did. I thought I could conquer the world, find the perfect man to share it with, and live happily ever after. But I’m finding out now, I’m broken.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my world. I love the area I live in, I love my family, I love the work I do, and I love the communities which support and sustain me (friends and spirituality and joy, in one package). I love the learning, and growing, and being grateful for my blessings. But.

But I’m so overworked, I can’t see straight. And I can’t afford the area I live in, but hate the ones that I can afford on my own. I’ve driven away a man who loves me, for both our sakes – when we’re together, we just become worse people. I haven’t found another that I can live with, or who wants to live with me. So many transitions are happening by June 30th, it’s making me dizzy.

Which is where this new blog comes in. To track this time. To keep myself sane and give me an outlet while I go through this, recovering still from the heart traumas of the last year. And to talk to you, whoever you are, because I’m sick of journaling, of talking just to myself.

I also have a poetry blog – – if you want to check that out. I’m sure I’ll still write there, too. But poetry is a monologue with contained walls in it’s own right, and I’m ready to actually start talking.