Unconditional

There are pits into which we willingly crawl. Though painful, dark and alone. They are familiar, comforting, welcome. Surely you know such a place.

Mine alomost feel like home. Stores of varing emotions to which I return. Some are very painful. Tormenting. Hell like. Yet I fall into them arms spread landing flat upon my back. Only to taste it, smell it, live it a little more.

How insane this all sounds. Yet. Upon emeriging to a bright blue sky and gentle breeze. Life is new again. Clean. Fresh. Full of anything. So I set sail and beging to live. Until my anchor drops again.

(The attached image is the sky above me now. How open and glorious it is. The other is my 1st mate Zilliah, no fine a companion was ever made.)

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My Heart is To Short

Waves of crisp white sheets crash between us

Is it sea salt or tears I taste

Across the hirizion lay an island of flesh

One I have not landed upon in awhile

It is unfamiliar now

More worn, harsh yet still attractive

It is mine for now but only in notion

One eyes stares at it size its worth

I should try to travel to it tonight

No, my hart is to short

I will lay alone and still

I Used To Dream, Falsely

  
As a boy I was very alone. Depressed. Neglected. I would pray for the person who would one day love me. This began at age ten. I always sought affection. At thirteen years of age I learned girls loved love letters. So I wrote them. Often, and became very good at it. At this age the act of writing the letter and it being willing received was emotional satisfaction.

  As I matured a response was desired. A return of investment. One small affermation which indicated my feelings we not singular. Often the act of writing proceeded the actual emotion for. It was a hunt. A search for the one thing I desired most. Someone who cared, about, me. An end to my solitude. 

  At sixteen I began a relationship with someone who I did not know. I originally approached her because I wanted my friends to stop talking about who was going to date her, being she was the new girl in school. Our relationship began. No letters this time. I am not sure why other then we talked. Openly, freely, for hours. 

  She was light. I hate I used that description yet it is the most accurate. She smiled and the world was better. She was gloriously energetic, outspoken, nothing less than amazing. So I loved her. Not paper love. Not words twisted to page love. My soul leaps when she is near love. So much so I dared not acknowledge it. Until, one day, as I turned to walk away from her. She grabbed my elbow, tilted her head and said “I love you”. It was not a sily teenage babble. She said “I love you”. As in, you understand this is more. “I love you.” She did. We loved deeply. Until something happened. The love did not stop, just the relationship.

  Years past and I never entered another relationship. Then my wife came along. We met. A few days later she asked me out on a dare. I showed up and she had forgotten. We continued to date. A few months into our relationship my father died. The one person I felt cared about me. A year later I was married. In reflection for me it was out of fear. My wife just saw a boy graduating from Army Officer Candidates School. Basically, not a farmer. It took two years until she first tried to walk out. My fear of being alone made me stop her. I never felt love after that point. Things were basically, not being alone.

  A few years ago I made contact with my first love. She has a loving husband. Beautiful kids and a good life. All things I was happy to know. However, for years I had held on to her as the only person who ever loved me. Unreasonably I felt lied to. She does not love me now so how could she have then. I worked through this to the understanding what we had then was real. At that point she did love me. I had been truly loved.

Sadly, I find myself alone once again. For years my wife rejected me but I hung in for fear of being alone and for my two incredible daughters. My daughters recently moved in with my wife for the summer preceeding me moving back in. They returned to my house to help my prepare my house for the market. While here they disclosed they felt emotionally abused as well. Both (older teens) asked me to keep my house so they could live with me. Sadly when their mother arrived for the weekend things went very poorly. I have not had contact with my wife since. Nor do I expect to. 

 In the end the most important thing is have I been loved. Yes. I know the joy of being loved. My ropes are pulled and sails are set. Traveler is exploring the seas of life again. Maybe I will be loved again maybe not. Regardless, the first time was real and its memory safety treasured away.

  

The Nowhere Place

  Have you looked for me? Wondered where the traveler may be? A few have, and my gratitude is beyond expression. While we all love to sling our ink to page regarding our last spanking, broken heart, kids, flowers, pets, books, add in some more spanking just for fun; are we not really hear for the community? Who post then honestly hopes it never reaches anyone.

 Thus here I am. Actually I am in my “nowhere place” which is emotional not physical. I started going there subconsciously while spending so many years alone as a defensive mechanism. It is a place where I function but quite literally am void of emotion. Very much like a Prozac, Seriquil, Jack Daniels party except I have had none of those this week. 

  I am here because all that I hoped I might could have in a relationship has gone away. A twenty seven year investiment gone. Very much like staying with one company all your career to discover there is no pension at the end. Not even a cheap watch, or grocery store cake. Just a “if you dont want this I’m taking it”. Then realizing the next morning you do not even have utensils for fruit loops.

  So here I am. Nowhere. A familiarplace. Except, this time, I have my Zil who can sense all my medical and emotional issues. She comes over as I look through old Army stuff, puts a paw on my shoulder and gives me kisses. Who can stay in nowhere when Zil is around?

And That Happened

Thankfully the knives are packed. My wife arrived at my house this evening to help pack the last few things. We have not lived together in years. However were planning to move in together in the next few weeks to see how things work out. My daughters have been with me and we have all had hesitation about coming back together. 

 Regretfully things were said tonight. Loudly. Venting of fears and anger. Roller coaster of emotion. Currently the girls are on one blow up matress, wife is on another and I am on the couch. I managed to keep my wife from walking out tonight and giving up. 

 I don’t know. Maybe we should just give up. Maybe it is time. Twenty seven years of a bad marriage is a lifetime. However, I do love her and wished she would love me. My daughters are my world. I want to have my family. 

  Tonight, I sail into the storm. Willingly. Hoping when the Sun breaks through we will be whole. This is the last time this ship will sail. I hope it floats.

Down Hearted,

Traveler