I no longer need astrology

A few fore-warnings:

1. This is my story. Totally true, but only mine.
2. If you get emotionally triggered from incomplete sentences & other grammar no-noes, my story is not for you.  Really.  I’m warning you now.
3. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
4. I’m relying on my memory for this, and my memory sucks.  So I may be occasionally off chronologically or with little details, but the important stuff is not wrong.  These are my truths, and I’m being as honest as possible.
5. Judge if you must, but don’t bother letting me know.  Your opinion of me doesn’t matter to me. I welcome comments, thoughts & others experiences, though.
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After that fiasco, I stayed off the internet for a while.  But eventually, I went back.  I discovered AOL chat rooms like Tango and ....well, I don't remember all the names...one was for older lesbians, and one was for butch/femme.  There was probably a Leather one too, but at that time I wouldn't have had a clue about kink & leather and that life (oh my goodness what a long time ago!).  I "met" lots of good people and some not exactly up-to-par (I considered it my karma).  Maybe because I had experience at lying, I learned pretty fast to usually tell the real people and the players.  But for about a year, I wouldn't let anyone get too close to me because really, I wanted a physical, real-time relationship and I figured it just didn't happen like that from the internet.

Eventually I met who would become my first internet to r/t relationship.  I moved to her, and about a year later I moved back home.  She is a perfectly nice person - we're still friends today - but I was still searching for....well, me.  I just had no clue at the time.  

I had a couple more internet based relationships after that. And I ended them all relatively fast, except one.  I met the person who is my soul mate.  I'm convinced of that. She & I played the cat & mouse game (emotionally).  If she wasn't pushing me away making me chase her, I was doing the pushing & her the pulling.  And so I moved to her.  And spent the next week pulling while she pushed me so far away emotionally that I still carry scars, healed as they are. And so I re-packed my car and left.   No good-byes, no nothing.  She emailed me shortly after I got home and said something about how she thought I should have talked to her before I just took off.  I found that a little ironic, considering 2 days before I left she had told me she was in love with another girl, on the internet.  Surprise!  Yeah, I had yet to find out about the whole concept of "emotionally healthy relationships".  Huh?  What's that??

Believe it or not, we kinda sorta got back together (no moving this time...maybe I was beginning to learn?) and after a while I fucked her over.  We went a long while without talking but eventually she found me (or was that the time I found her?) and we tried, sorta, again.  Only this time, we had no labels, other than friends.  She came clean with me, and I did the same.  She would send me some beautiful poetry that she said was written to me.  I still have all those letters.  She helped me figure out that just because the passion is there doesn't mean it's gonna work.  And that just because I found my soul mate (I swear I wasn't looking - that was too silly a concept for my brain) did not mean she was bound to stay with me.  Over the next several years we were in contact with each other on & off, but never romantically again.  I'll call her Sidhe.  When we weren't in touch I felt an emptiness, a hole in my very soul. 

Don't get me wrong, I moved on.  But Sidhe was never far from my thoughts.  Today, still.  Our last time in contact she was acting as a mentor/protector for me, and I screwed up by getting involved with someone that she was fully aware of.  She was the first person I told, but I was supposed to have told her before getting involved...I was so excited and full of "*sigh* my life is great-ness”.  I was completely clueless as to why she reacted so harshly and I tried to get her to talk to me about it but she wouldn't, except to say I had fucked her over for the last time.  I truly did not understand her reasoning, and it left me so destroyed. 

After weeks of my crying from the confusion and from losing Sidhe again, the person I had become romantic with finally pointed out to me that regardless of any agreements between Sidhe & me about NOT being in a romantic relationship with each other she obviously still had feelings for me and was hurt and jealous.  I didn't buy it at first because Sidhe and I had both agreed that our direct, open & honest communication was the MOST important part of our relationship and surely Sidhe would have told me if that was the case.  Right?

Computer love

A few fore-warnings:

1. This is my story. Totally true, but only mine.
2. If you get emotionally triggered from incomplete sentences & other grammar no-noes, my story is not for you.  Really.  I’m warning you now.
3. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
4. I’m relying on my memory for this, and my memory sucks.  So I may be occasionally off chronologically or with little details, but the important stuff is not wrong.  These are my truths, and I’m being as honest as possible.
5. Judge if you must, but don’t bother letting me know.  Your opinion of me doesn’t matter to me. I welcome comments, thoughts & others experiences, though.
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Do you remember when you met your first internet love?  Not met in person, but when you had that first conversation lasted 6+ hours and it still wasn't long enough?

Mine happened a long time ago (remember dial-up?).  The computer went from a fascination and way to pass time playing solitaire & pinball to my absolute life-line.  At work all I thought about was getting the fuck home so I could log-on.  Those beeps & whistles that signified my computer was about to come to life made my heart skip a beat.  Made me smile like crazy.  And once I was connected and saw their screen name pop up on my AOL messenger, that was my perfection.

Yes, I'm aware that was a virtual lifetime ago (see what I did there?).  The mid-1990s.   Quite a long time ago.  I never met my first internet love.  It just wasn't common to travel to meet people from the internet.  Society would tell me that only stalkers, killers and losers were on "the internets".  Oh, and the fact I lied to them about myself may have had something to do with not meeting, as well.

Yep, I was one of those losers.  A player.  I wasn't doing it to try and get away with anything bad (or so I thought), I lied about who I was because I feared RH wouldn't like the real me.  So, RH knew my real name, phone & address, and definitely knew my soul.  But they didn't know little details like the fact I was in a (dying) relationship real-time, still living with my partner and my partner didn't think our relationship was dying at all.  RH found out when they called once and I wasn't home, but the ex was (This was before cell phones, I think car phones were around though, maybe) and they had a conversation about me.  Yay me.

Needless to say, it was the most humiliating, and heartbreaking, conversation when I returned the call. I was seriously in love with RH...as much as one can be in love over the internet while living a farce.  RH was a musician, and had an AWESOME voice (I swear fame should have already been obtained, but then again RH wasn't the type to sell-out, so who knows).  I got pictures of their travels, and I still want to visit Montana because of those pictures.  RH shared themselves with me (again, as much as...) and I was being dishonest the entire time. 

I wasn't even lying because I didn't want my then-partner to know.  Shoot - I gave RH my/our home phone number & address without even pausing.  I was lying because for the first time I had the attention of someone AWESOME.  (At the time I dismissed the imperfections and sheer human-ness.)  And I figured RH would disappear in a flash if the real me was exposed.  Honestly I don't think I even ever sent her pictures of me.  (Just to satisfy any curiosity, I am pretty darn "normal", not hideous, and not beautiful (anymore, though I wish I had realized back then how beautiful I truly was).  I wasn't/am not perfect physically - never been skinny or popular or unimportant things like that - I just didn't know I was worthy of someone good. It was a learned behavior that started very early in my life. 

Can we say low self-esteem?  Hi, that was me.  And still no excuse to do what I did.

So, I learned my lesson the hard way, but I definitely learned it.  I never deceived anyone again.  I also never got the opportunity to apologize. 

RainbowHawk, I am truly truly sorry for my lies and secrets.  You most certainly did not deserve that kind of treatment.  I have wished only peace for you (ok, and a little commercial success too).  And to you, today, I can honestly say Namaste.

    to be continued

He's not heavy...

My closest friend in the world died not too long ago.  Burkitt's Lymphoma.  That shit don't play.  Not quite 2 months from diagnosis to death.

About 2 years ago, he was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and after 6 long, grueling months of chemo, he was in remission.  I remember us talking about what he would do if it came back.  He stated then he didn't think he'd do chemo again...he'd just let nature take it's course.  I told him back then that I would support his decision, no matter what.

This past spring, he and I were out "thrift storing", and he moved a TV off  an old coffee table I was interested in.  Later in the day he complained about his upper back hurting, and mentioned he figured he'd pulled a muscle moving that TV.  No big deal.

2 weeks later, he went to the ER because he was in horrible pain, and he had lost feeling in his legs.  They did a CAT scan, and discovered the tumor lying up against his spinal column, and took him to surgery right then & there.

He never went home again.  2 surgeries later, they wanted to start chemo.  He agreed to 2 rounds.  As soon as he was done with the first round, he said no more.  This chemo made his chemo in the past seem like a cakewalk.  He just didn't have it in him to continue.  He was in the hospital for close to a month, and then was transferred to Hospice. A little less than a month later, he died.

I was so grateful that he allowed me to participate in his life during that time.  He would occasionally ask me if I was doing ok, if it was getting to be too much for me.  I told him I wouldn't be anywhere else but right there with him.

His mom would stay one night, his sister the next, and I would stay every 3rd night.  We all settled into the routine fairly quickly.  I had no idea until after his death that I wasn't the only one who absolutely HATED walking into that Hospice.  I couldn't stay away...when i wasn't there all I thought about was him.  I would visit even when I wasn't staying that night.  But every single time I walked through those doors, I just hated it.

His mom & I were with him when he slipped away...I was whispering in his ear, just talking to talk, and his breathing stopped for about 20 seconds, he took another breath and that was it.  He was gone.  I was still whispering "it's ok, it's ok" in his ear after he was gone.

I really thought that because I had had 2 months to adjust to him dying, then I would be able to handle it better than if it had been sudden.  And maybe I did...I got my chance to tell him good-bye, to let him know how very much I loved him and I tried to express my almost over-whelming sense of gratitude toward him for loving me like he did, for taking care of me and looking out for me all these years.

But I am so full of grief still...I think about him so much...wishing he were here, missing his voice, missing the sight of him towering in my living room as he waited on me to finish getting ready to go somewhere.

We weren't lovers...he was as gay as I am...but we were partners.  He was my SO, especially toward the end.

I miss my Bear something fierce.

                         Steve S., 1967 - 2014
                       You're free now...go have fun.

i love music, any kind of music...

...except for 99% of country music and gospel.  Other than those 2 genres, i can handle just about all music.  Obviously there are exceptions...they abound, i'm sure.

MTV VMAs was this past weekend.  i don't have a tv, so i had to TRY and watch them online.  And considering that my computer (a Dell desktop) is at least 10 years old (i'm thinking around 14, but not positive)...well...yeah, i didn't watch much.  i did work my way through  few of the live performances, with looooots of patience and many MANY pixels.  But it was worth it.

Kanye West was fuckin awesome.  So was Justin Timberlake and Katy Perry.  Granted, i don't listen to much Katy, but i love that her songs are mostly upbeat, good-for-the-confidence types.

KW....will always be confrontational/in your face.  Lots of people don't like that for various reasons (imma try not to soapbox right now) but i don't have a problem with his personality, and i generally love his music.  Plus, he's hot.  That square jawline just kills me (i don't care that it was made from an accident).  Kinda like 50.  i love me some 50.  Why yes, i do pronounce it "fiddy", thanks for asking.And omg to watch his face...that jawline & his mouth...yummy.

Yes, i'm still lesbian. Nope, don't wanna have sex with these guys.  Doesn't mean i can't appreciate (& sometimes even objectify) with the rest of'em.

JT grew on me, and it had nothing to do with his music.  It's his personality...his sense of humor is AWESOME and so very sexy.  Back when i had tv, he was on Ellen frequently.  He made me laugh!  Then i'd catch him on SNL - that cover of Beyonce's "Single Ladies" is priceless - and laugh more!  And THEN i discovered Jimmy Fallon's late night show... JT ROCKS (so does Jimmy, another man i admire).

The singer i'm most surprised at my reaction to is Miley Cyrus.

i've never watched Hanna Montana (i am 46 yrs old).  i didn't realize who she was until she left the goody-two-shoes behind and screamed "I AM A WOMAN".  my honest first opinion was, "Billy Ray is her dad?! Please, she's just another country ass bumpkin."

Then she started being everywhere.  All the press was on her like crazy, and so i started noticing her.  And liking her.  Her music is...meh (for the most part), but her attitude?  i LOVE it.  And she is beautiful.  Then she cut all her hair off and rocks that shit SOOO hard!!  i really admire that she is who she is, and that ain't Hanna Montana, bitcheZ.  And though i'm no more sexually attracted to her as i am men, i must say watching her twerk in her Furry suit is goooo-oood.

None of those singers are my favorite of all time.  That would be the group Earth, Wind & Fire, hands down.  But, they're followed closely by MANY singers & groups.  i have about 100 favorite ones.  Everything/everyone from Prince to Indigo Girls to the Cure to .38 Special to Mumford & Sons.  i'll take house and acid and pop.  ALL of it! (except most country & a gospel, don't forget that).

it never seems the same behind your eyes

"...as much as a person with depression is sad, we are the same measure of angry that we can’t just stop feeling this way."
and
"...your brain stubbornly follows you, leads you, sticks it’s finger in your eye when you wake up in the morning and realize, fuck, I’m still alive."

Those are from dooce.com, and i agree.  For people who don't have depression, it's so easy to wonder how come you don't just get over it...shake it off...just do something.  Just get out of your house/room and do something.  i get so angry at myself because i can't "just do it."  A lot of times.

i worked for about 20 years before it got so bad that i couldn't.  i mean, i still had a job, a job i loved.  But it got to the point where i was calling out sick more than i was working, and in a small office (2 employees & the owners) that's just not good.  Not that it ever is, but every day i wasn't there my boss had to do her job and mine.  And of course i'd be home in bed feeling even more like shit knowing the burden i was putting on her.  

So i quit.  Only i didn't bother doing it correctly, or fairly.  i just stopped calling in and stopped showing up.  Just like that.  So fucked up!

It didn't help that my partner was ending our 5-year relationship at that time...i'm sure that's what triggered my spiral, though my memories are jumbled from that period.  Yeah...she wanted to try adding a 3rd, and i agreed and then i couldn't handle it.  Needless to say, the ultimatum i presented to her didn't end in my favor.

i know now that it just wasn't meant to be.  She had, within the first year of being single, started identifying the exact opposite of what she thought of herself before, including gender.  He now IDs as male, or at least masculine enough not to be considered a "she".  Not necessarily TG, but definitely on the male end of the spectrum.  And the role in relationships that he enter are so, so opposite of what he was in ours.  

Is this cryptic enough?  Cause i can cryptic it MUCH more if not.

Point is, i still love him. And i learned so much with him.  He was the person i was going to spend the rest of my life with.  i belonged to him, completely.  And when he'd tell me that i would always be his most important, primary love, i believed without an ounce of hesitation.  Right up to that ultimatum.  

That period of my life (about 8 years ago now) was devastating.  i had been through other truly horrible events, but the ending of that relationship (all-in-all it took a couple months)...it was the ending of whole parts of me.  Some of those parts have kinda sorta healed with scars and are functioning again.  Other parts are gone.  Just...gone.  i was changed forever.  In ways i didn't think were possible.  

And sometimes, i miss those dead parts of me.  i can feel great emotionally, i'm not saying, "i'll never be happy again!" because that's so not true!  In fact, these days are the best days of my life.  i'd say in the last 3 years or so, i have grown and opened and truly been content with myself.

i'm saying i miss the ability to truly trust someone.  i miss being able to totally relax with a lover, to "just be".  i cannot allow anyone into my soul again.  

That is what i miss. Sometimes.

Imagine

i was raised going to the Church of God in SC...they are very much into speaking in tongues, knocking pews over while the holy ghost is in them, laying on of hands to heal, etc.

When i became a teen, i was allowed to skip church if i wanted, so i did.  Completely.  i still believed in god, but hated church.  In HS i joined a group of students the gathered every morning before school to have a prayer session, led by my favorite teacher.

After HS, religion wasn't important...i was beginning to question & wonder, and labeled myself as agnostic but in my day-to-day life it wasn't important.

Then, two missionaries came to the house at the request of my mom's boss (a LDS), and though i thought the stuff they talked about was...out there...i truly enjoyed their company.  So, every Monday (their day off), we'd go picking berries, play games or drive up into the mountains and just hang out.  After the 2nd of those elders was transferred out of my area, i pretty much stopped thinking about any of it.

FF a couple of years and 2 sisters knocked at my door.  i let them in and told them about my past experience with missionaries, and let them know that i had no interest in joining the church but i'd love to hang out with them.  So again, it became a weekly thing and again i loved it.  We'd often meet up with other missionaries in the area.  Very clean, gentle times.

After about 6 months of occasionally going to church, i finally decided to become baptised. i think my main reason was so those 2 sisters could say they'd saved someone before they were transferred.  i didn't say that out loud, of course.  Not long after, i became pregnant and then got married.  By that time the 2 original sisters had moved on, and i wasn't really making any friends in the church, but i loved that everyone was so nice, so welcoming.  i think i was desperate for an emotional support network, and they were it, sort of.

Once i announced i was pregnant, i was told i could no longer take sacrament nor was i allowed to lead prayer during relief society.  Premarital sex was a huge no-no.

Between those disappointments and my failing marriage, i slowly just stopped going.  After my son was born the women were great...they brought a crib and a changing table to me (he wouldn't have had either without those women), and offered their help consistently.  i was and am very grateful for their help during that time.

Over time, i figured out several truths for myself.  One, i was gay.  and 2, i don't believe in god.  The LDS church wouldn't stop pestering me to come back into the fold until one day i'd had enough and sent a letter to the ward bishop letting him know those 2 things.  Not long after, i got the official "you're excommunicated" letter in return.

The idea of a god is a smart one to for those who are believers...be a good person (their definition only) or else you're going to hell!

But it really makes no sense...the "facts" surrounding god are just ridiculous if broken down and examined from a logical, intellectual viewpoint.  It's about as real as santa.

Today, i carry a pretty substantial prejudice towards religion, especially "christians".  i admit i tend to think they're subpar as far as intelligence goes.  Add that to my being born & raised in the redneck, racist south and well.... they are not people i prefer to interact with.

People are people

When i watch this video i can't help but feel envious.  The music is awesome too.

These people...they are LIVING.  There is such a HUGE difference between being alive and living.