Passages

Next weekend I'm going on a retreat for men who are ... Well, I don't know exactly... The details are vague but the original post was on by "support your sister"  women's group to be passed on to "partners, husbands, boyfriends who are like-minded", so over made the assumption that has something to do with emotional vulnerability and being an ally in the fight for equality. It's a big assumption, I know. The only details I have, and I just received them tonight, are the items to bring - sheets, blankets, work gloves, a swimsuit? Ok?

It was a few hundred dollars and money is tight at the moment, so I'm not just hoping for enlightenment, I'm also hoping it's the best use of the money.

My mind is elsewhere though. Recently a kitten was saved by a friend from a trash bag out back of an apartment building and I just found out that despite trips to the vet the kitten has now died. For a couple of years I've been saying that I wasn't going to have any new animals in my household, but after briefly holding and playing with the little rescue, I had started to change my mind. It's amazing how quickly one can get attached.

But... life is a limited time offer, sometimes much too limited. We should appreciate that more, fully live it more, and not waste time endlessly waiting...

No matter how many times that realization occurs to me, old habits return, inertia sets in and in key ways life remains on hold.

Give me a shovel somebody. I gotta start digging my way out.

Chronic pain

The pain has been bad this week. In addition to the tendonitis, that pain that will soon enter its third year, my lower back decided to join the party. At least my knee and arm were not too bad.

Between the sleep problems and the medications, I have and often feeling like a shadow of my very recent former self.

There is victory, however  in managing to appear to have somewhat normal life. What falls by the wayside is the piece that happens when you are not working or doing activities with other people. Resting, reading, relaxing, writing, playing guitar, going outside on weekends, experiencing summer...

I don't know why I have hope that things will get better. I keep trying.  I tell myself to just keep trying. 

I have to find the railway line that was swallowed by quicksand,  put a foot on it,  and slowly get myself back on the track .. and get free. 

Re-reading 2006

If only I would listen to myself.

Thirteen years ago I wrote on this very blog that I should not waffle, and that if things were not right, I should jump out.

Five years ago I should have jumped out and stayed out.

The Filipina says that if I get her name tattooed on my ass, or better yet, something humiliating such as "slut", if would be "a step" towards "proving myself" as trustworthy. She drew up some examples and sent them to me so that I could forward one to the tattoo shop and get a quote.

Wtf?

I don't know which is worse: that she made the demand or that I have been perilously close to doing it.

I will have my first tattoo two days from now, but it won't be where she wants it, and it won't say what she wants it to say.

Transparency Failures

 All three of them know when I'm lying.

Worse yet, they ask questions I don't want to answer.

It doesn't help that I've been much too honest in the past.

"You had an ex girlfriend over? Did you use a condom?"

"Nothing happened that I would need a condom"

"I don't believe you."

And well you shouldn't. And well you shouldn't.

I didn't lie, but I avoided trying the truth. Not needing a condom doesn't mean there was no sex.

But as slippery as I may be, it almost didn't work. Well, it only worked in terms of ending the inquiry the way an inquiry ends when it's obvious that no real answer will be coming.

And somehow I think I can change and get into an honest relationship?

These are the days I agree with the names I've been called by the Filipina.

Turning Point, Part One

I saw the love of my life for the first time in two years, the Thai girl I met at the end of 2015, and I lit up like the fireworks we would watch together later in the week.

I still marvel at the amazing feeling I never thought possible, and marvel even more that it is still burning so brightly within me.

If only I wasn't so practical about love.

I'm in a state of confusion though, not surprisingly.

It's been an emotional rollercoaster, a week intended to shake down my hidden emotions, the secrets I've kept from myself. 

The road I chose to literally drive on was one from my youth.  The route started with driving to my grandparents' old house, where I was heartbroken to see that the new owners had razed down every speck of vegetation and left only gravel.  No garden, no flowers, no trees, no grass, no raspberry bushes, nothing.  All gone.

After that I drove to the USA, going the way that my grandparents had taken me, and I tried to accept that they are gone.  The pain somehow remains fresh with every thought.  They gave me my love of travel, and so much more.  I want to accept the natural passing from this earth that we all will face, but I haven't managed it yet.

The second goal was to stop being chained to my phone and/or laptop, and I did somewhat better with that.  I still used my phone more than not at all, but at least it wasn't constant, and when I reached for it I chided myself.

The third goal was a bit murkier... deciding whether continuing on with the Filipina was my best choice, or whether I should once again try to quit her and move on.  For real, for real, for real this time. 

But the big deal, the big deal was that I was on my way to see the love of my life, not knowing how she'd feel about me, not knowing how I'd feel about her.  It wasn't until I was almost to Seattle that we finalized the plan to see each other.  And then a few hours later, we did, and I was in heaven.  She was too.  We were both so surprised.

For a couple of days that happiness was uninterrupted, but then on Wednesday the Filipina tried to reach out to say that she missed me.  I was ignoring her messages and calls, as I drove around a national park with my love by my side.

By the time we got back to the hotel, the winds had changed.  The Filipina was no longer in a missing me mood, but instead was furious about who I was with.

The next day, she left a comment on the Thai girl's Instagram that she "had important information about the man you're travelling with" and then DM'd her a lengthy warning.  I found out only because the Thai girl handed me her phone as soon as she received the message and asked me to reply "I already know" on her behalf.  I couldn't navigate the Thai keyboard so I gave it back to her and she expanded it a bit, writing "Thank you.  I already know".  The Filipina replied "You're welcome" and some further nonsense.  The Thai girl didn't care, but I was infuriated. 

I see the irony in feeling betrayed by it, but that's how I felt.  Shocked. Didn't think she would stoop so low.

I couldn't quite entirely set aside these negative feelings for the remaining days, but still, most of my time with my Thai love was one of endless bliss and a building sense of sadness as my departure approached.

After I left, I called the Filipina, and she unloaded for hours and hours as I drove, only taking breaks when the lack of cellular coverage required it.

The second day of driving, I focused on following up on a decision I'd reached on the way down to call my father.  We've never been close, hardly ever been in touch, and it had been at least a year and a half since we had talked.  If I didn't learn from losing my grandparents, I'd soon be adding to my tears when he was gone.

We spoke for a couple of hours.  He's be going through a difficult time, his wife being in and out of hospital for the past year with cancer operations.  We talked about what I'd been doing, and he told me that I should be following my heart and going with my Thai love instead of staying with the Filipina who, despite many good attribute, was like a poison in my veins.

And then, after driving through an hour of thunderstorms and tornado warnings, not talking to anyone anymore, I was home.

Home at last.  Far from my love.  Close to my problems.  And the shit was only just about to hit the fan.

Still The Same Three Women in my Heart

There are people in this world that mean something significant to me. Often they wish that they meant even more to me, but how can that be? I can only feel what I feel and hope that they see something they can appreciate rather than the shortfall. I know I often get more than I give, but again, how can I feel more than I feel?

I struggle with pros and cons, not able to sum anything up tidily in a way that would let me either invest or move on. I am unwilling to lose what I have, but I am aware that keeping it also damages me. 

Am I blind to the possible opportunities in strangers unmet? Or foolhardy for even considering walking away from an imperfect oasis in a desert bereft of perfect relationships?

Panic

A minute ago I realized the I was partially deaf in my left ear.

I am!

Holy shit.