A sort of a love letter

Rather let out lives lovingly express truth, in all things, speaking truly, dealing truly, living truly.....

I am many things, some you have seen, some you will never know.  One of them, is that I am a writer.  It is how I express my deepest, most honest, raw feelings and thoughts.  I give you the gift of this raw, vulnerable truth, not because you deserve it but because I choose to lovingly give you all that you don't deserve.  That's just me, that's my heart, the heart of the one you chose not, dear heart.

I want truth.  And we naively believe that truth is only true if it is absolute, lasting truth.  But our truth, then and now is not black and white with the clarity we'd always believed we saw everything.  We love within our release.  We accept things have ended, yet we acknowledge the impact of our loss.

My heart, my overwhelming desire, all I want in my short time here is to love, to use my gifts to bless and encourage others, to graciously accept the love from those who choose to share it with me.  And you were one of the many who did share your love with me.

I think God instilled this great desire for companionship in our hearts so we would need Him, so we could have an intimate, loving relationship with Him.  And that is truly enough.  No one separates me from God's love.  God is for me, who then can be against me?  And He knows the purity of my heart.  Regardless of the persecution, regardless of every Kaelinn and Jerad I encounter, God has glorified me, He has justified me, He is working to mold me into the image of His son.  And I, in anticipation, am so delighted to be used in every way He sees fit.

But I am also merely human.  I am weak and possess great needs.  And sometimes, as my Mother so wisely puts it, I need someone with skin on.  And there you were.  And you, in those moments, possessed everything I so desperately needed.  I didn't even know how much I hungered for your love until it was offered to me.  What sweet bliss to feel I was truly captivating to a handsome, caring, wonderful man.  Every time you looked in my eyes I could feel how beautiful you saw me.  What an incredible gift.  The way you held my hand, the way you found times to touch me in some way because you had to, because we were drawn to each other in a way that overpowered anything else we knew.  That was magic.

So now, I must take all of that, all that possibility, the hopes and dreams and awakened fantasies and desires and release all of it.  I will not remember the former things, I will neither consider the things of old, for behold, He is doing a new thing.  I will perceive that.  I will give heed to that.  And you will always live in a corner of my heart that had held a special reseve for you.

The treasure within my trial with you is that I got to see the true colors of my heart reflected amidst this storm.  I learned I can heal speedily.  I can forgive those who spitefully use me and persecute me.  I can accept the things I can't change.  I can give thanks when I don't get my hearts desire.
I wanted to be your everything, to let you be my Prince, yes in all irrational insantiy, to make my life joined and centered with you.

And God knows my heart and He knows the plan He has for me and He controls all things and my times are in His hands...
And He said NO.
And I cried and I raged and felt sadness and confusion and regret and betrayal.  And in His mercy, by His grace, I have found peace.  I have acceptance.  I have trust.  I have faith.  God is moving!
All I had wanted more than anything was you!
 And I didn't get that. 
And my joy and peace are not shaken. 
How wonderful is our God?
He tests me.  He lets me endure these trials.  He is strengthening me for something great and I am thrilled.

And I, in truthfulness, do feel very sorry for your loss.


With love, to another one of the great fools among men,
May you always be haunted by the love you left in this chapter.

Your Window of Time

About a month ago some unfortunately timed events simultaneously occurred.  These events and the hate that radiated from them made their way through my pores poisoning my joy filled heart.  I became a woman of rage and I wanted everyone to leave me the hell alone.

I changed my phone number.  I deleted my facebook account.  I tried to leave my job.  I wanted out and away from everyone and everything associated with this past that was accosting my phone and my computer. Will you all just leave me the hell alone! I screamed in silence.  And it took me a long time to realize I felt the same way about God.  Having a close walk with Him is amazing.  But it also means you will be tested more and you will also be under attack more.  If you're not a threat to the Thief, he leaves you alone but for the Warriors, he works overtime to devour.  And I failed to remember this when I shut the door on my time with God.  I didn't stand a chance.

I'm not sure of the exact timeline but I'm pretty sure it was about three weeks, three weeks of no prayer, no reading in the word, no speaking the word aloud, nothing. 
No God.  Just Reese.  And the ways I was channeling my rage.

It was on the heels of this rage that an opportunity presented itself, an opportunity to express my rage, to release it in a seductive way, to attempt to use my wiles to get what I wanted for once instead of always selfishly giving up my desires.  And the one seducing me, he too was looking for one to devour, to fulfill his unmet needs, to nourish his wounded ego, to restore his loss of desirability.  We think our motives are true and this truth makes them somehow noble in their realness.  But we are selfish narcissists and he no more loved me than I loved him.

We loved ourselves. We used each other merely to love ourselves.

And he called it a fairytale.

How perverse is that?


My fairytale Prince told me to my face he'd had the greatest passion with another woman days after the passion he'd shared with me.

What sort of bragging arrogance prompts a man to tell one recent lover of his trysts with another?

Upon finality of using you darling, I set out to use another and with great success, thought you should know.

And how was I to respond?

Good for you honey! Way to go! Here, have a beer. Truly you're a man now.

I mean, sweet Mary and Joseph!  I am surprised at nothing, the things people will do and say.

I wanted to make you hate me because I thought that would make it easier he justified.  Easier for whom exactly?  The one who cowardly ran away from his passion?  No one to blame but thyself, Adam. This Eve ain't sittin' around holding your hand while you fumble and falter and indecisively try to take back the decisions you let Mean Mommy make for you.

Your feelings are still so strong they radiate from your eyes and make your voice waver with uncertainty.

The volcano is stirring and when it blows the ashes won't so much as make me blink.


I am gone.

And you can't catch me and you won't find me and you no longer possess me.  'Twas all a ruse.  Your lies have shattered the truth I held so dear.  And this chapter was very mistakenly written.
Lucky for me His pencil has a thorough eraser.
And this sketch has been very much undone.

Adieu

Breathe this oxygen

"As you'll answer it, take heed
This Slave commit no Violence upon
Himself. I've been deceiv'd. The Publick Safety
Requires he should be more confin'd; and none,
No not the Princes self, permitted to
Confer with him. I'll quit you to the King.
Vile and ingrate! too late thou shalt repent
The base Injustice thou hast done my Love:
Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress,
And all those Ills which thou so long hast mourn'd;
Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd,
Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd."

--William Congreve, in The mourning bride, 1697

Timing is my sister and I delight in her

I am quite certain Timing has a most wicked sense of humor.
I think that if I were to be reincarnated in some form it would be Time.
She can be swift and cold, gentle and deliberately slow and always she is full of surprises.

A delightful contradiction, something I was happily embodying.

I am aware of the shift that has occurred in me.  All that transpired has given me a new energy and that energy radiates through me, drawing different eyes.  These eyes seem to see a secret dancing in my heart.
And they are curious.

I sat, writing, sipping coffee and smiling over the recollection of the buried love within, and then I looked up.  Poised across from my table were a pair of engaging eyes willing me to look into them.  They danced with mine, glancing away, glancing back, away again and then back.  And I, eyes downcast, smiled knowingly.  How wonderful to be seen as delicious as the brunch we hungrily ate from our plates.  I wondered at the eyes next move as I gathered my things to leave, who coincidentally, stood up as I did.  I waited in line to pay, feeling his approach before it happened. 
What would those eyes reveal?  What words would he choose to break the ice between us?
Those kids were sure cute with their tabasco sauce, he safely chose.  I saw you laughing a couple times and glanced over to see what they were doing.
He smiled.
I laughed out of politeness and wondered what might have transpired if he'd replaced his formality with honesty.

I am drawn to you and that's why I kept looking over at you.
Something about you entices me.
Let me take you out and spend more time with you and learn what else is captivating about you.

Oh that I were a man, I'd shock the panties off women.
Well, you know what I mean.

Earlier this morning, heading into the church I'd frequented as of late I felt an overwhelming desire to be somewhere else.  Without hesitation, I walked out, back to my car, wondering exactly where it was I should go.  Cedar Mill Bible.  The words came to my mind like a whispering nudge and I drove straight there.  I don't think I've ever been to that church, at least not at an age that I can recall.  And for some reason, I unknowingly felt compelled to go there.  It was an insightful sermon and the worship was honest in its simplicity.  And a man sat down beside me that I'd known over a year ago.  Clever happenstance, I marvelled, You, Goddess of Time, never cease to surprise me. 
And I quickly learned why I'd gone there.
What are you doing today? he'd eagerly asked me and when I told him, his shining eyes beamed, and he confessed, I'd love to tag along, if that's ok.
I smiled out of politeness.  I'd stepped out of the familiar into the unknown and possibility had generously been given to me.
But this wasn't the moment I craved, my Time needed the solace of being simply with myself.

People are fascinating to watch.  They work so hard to hide the truth behind their eyes and in their hearts and in their minds.  But we so openly display our vulnerabilities for all the world to see, witnesses to the moments that break and restore us.

 Waiting for a friend I'd witnessed a man who, too, was waiting for someone.  When she arrived, in the dress she'd carefully chosen, he didn't hug her, didn't touch her and as they walked into the concert hall he walked ahead of her.  The truth of their interaction was blindingly clear.
He didn't delight in her and that made me sad.
In contrast,  my mind pictured how the exchange would have gone if my secret love had been the one waiting for me.  I recalled how he behaved around me, our hands always finding one another, our hugs always finding their way back to each other.
He delighted in me and that made me happy.

There was a young couple next to me who most assuredly were on an early date, if not the very first.  He, laughing nervously at everything she said, She, unable to sit still with nervous anticipation.  They each kept playing with their cell phones unable to immerse themselves in the possibility of that moment.  Their insecurities, their vulnerabilities, left them feeling exposed.  And rather than dive into the time that was their now, they withdrew from it.
Witnessing their loss weighed on my heart.

Leaving the concert hall my eyes rested on a familiar face from long ago.  Uncertain of my own desire for a reconciliation I ignored the memory that had registered and continued walking forward. 
Teresa!  he clearly called and my heart, in surprise, skipped a beat realizing he still, after all this time, saw me.  Do you have a minute? he'd asked.  I just wanted to say hi.

And once again I shook my head at the invasive persistence of my sister that is Time.

Any eve, any morn, anyone, at any moment.
It could be the next chapter and that put a smile on these anticipating lips.
For now I was content in myself, still basking in the afterglow of a very consuming love affair.
'Twas an affair to remember.
For this moment, at least.

With or Without You

I looked in the mirror and smiled, a genuine, appreciative smile.
Somehow in that particular moment I felt luminous, and I remembered all that had truly transpired.
Looking in that mirror my eyes remembered, seeing what his eyes had reflected back to mine.
Beauty.
I felt captivating.
And radiant.
Wearing black lace, a dress that fought against the curves of my body when I bought it months prior yet with all hope I had bought it knowing someday it would share an eve with me.
And tonight was the night.
I felt alive and vibrant and hopeful to every possibility.
A man caught my eye as I was walking toward him and he couldn't look away.
He smiled, and I smiled back. Truly, I was seen.
And by more than the him I'd presumed was the one.  There are so many ones, how could there be merely the one when they so often turned the wrong corner?

He had told me over and over again that what hooked him were my eyes.
Deep grey and blue, like my favorite ocean on an overcast day.
And he had swam in that sea with adoration and desire.
You have a good nose, it's terribly cute, he had made me blush.
 I don't much care for my nose.
To be complimented on your insecurity always fills a tiny corner in your cracked heart.
He had seen what all had and what no one had.
And what a keen eye for noticing, my savvy suitor.

Most men were intimidated by me.
I don't think they quite knew how to handle me.
My strength overwhelmed them.
But this, he had confessed, was what drew him to me.
You are so sexy when you're strong.
And what a compliment that was.
What a long road I had taken to get here and someone appreciated the fight I had fought.

And I remembered the last time I saw him, his smiling face looking back over his shoulder at me as he walked away, whispering I'll miss you.
And I you, dear heart. And I you.

I walked along a street we all too recently had walked, arm in arm, how perfect those moments were, each stolen kiss a welcome surprise. Your resistance to the irresistible, 'twas adorably doomed. You fell entirely, keeping the rabbit hole warm. And I, in anticipation, with baited breath, remained content in waiting.
Truly the patience of old was reserved for you.
I waited for no man.
A walking contradiction, my darling, as you already knew.

I thought of how extraordinary the symphony was. How the last time I had been, and the time before, and the year further still, hand in hand with hearts I'd adored. And how I'd imagined yours too could have been one to cross such a threshold.

But girls are quite silly, as we are told growing up.

And somehow I knew that sitting here solo, champagne cocktail in hand, fitted black lace, glowing eyes, basking in all radiance, I was enough.
 The crystals sparkled overhead and I heaved a much needed sigh of contentment.
You too could have danced under these stars and felt the warmth in the music filled halls.
But you instead chose the path of Shoulds.
And this unknown, already blossoming from its recent pruning is none less radiant in your absence.

This beauty is intoxicating.
And it will always haunt you.
And that is my gift to you.

The truth that sets free and sets free and still, again.

Years ago I was a pawn in a Lebanese game of deception.  There are some who are gifted in the craft of seduction, the wiles of cunning manipulation and I, ever so thirsty for the juice of love, willingly indulged in each temptation, drunken with intoxication.  The dance, literally and figuratively, went on for years, though the players multiplied in the final year.  It was during that time that the one who wooed with such intensity inexplicably turned out to have a girlfriend.  A trend that humorously repeated itself four times that year, and those were only the ones I knew about. 

As this year's theme goes, things are never what they appear to be.

To heighten the perversion of the game he'd placed me into, the truth came out when my ex boyfriend wrote me an email informing me that the wooer had a girlfriend, had gone to Vegas with her not Seattle alone as I had been told and that the 'rejection' email he'd sent me was in fact written by her.  And my ex had been in on it too.  They all sat around, plotting, discussing me, thinking of how to add more poison to the scene, all while sipping whiskey and smoking their imported cigarettes.  I'd intuitively thought the tone of 'his' letter had sounded different and as I'm finding every year, my intuition is always on point.  It is the engaging of the intuition that I get derailed from. 

As if planting a seed of preparation for the fate that would arrive, when I read the email revealing such despicable truth, I was eerily calm.  You see, the glorious thing about the truth is, however painfully, it always sets you free.  Hearing the gruesome details helped connect the dots for me, things finally made sense, the holes were filled and I was released from the bondage his feigned love had held over me.

What a gift.

True to form, as the patterns of life continue, this year found itself in a very similar repetition.  Not once, but twice.  Yes, indeed I fell victim to the revealing of the truth from the chosen woman (for I am, evermore, the Other woman) and more than once within a month.  How is it possible Fate could so quickly deal such a fatal hand?  And twice?

First, the remarried ex to the ex confessing in a rage her invasion of his accounts, her stalking and plotting and attempted sabotage of the relationship that had awakened his depressed coma.  And the lie, or likely truth, that he now, like her, saw my love for the inconvenience it truly was, a headache.  Quote, unquote.
And again I had intuitively known she was reading his emails but he'd childishly declared "She would never do that." But she would and she did and she pridefully told me.  And my instincts were on point. 

Freedom.  Release.  Acceptance.  Truth.

Enter Stage Right, Prince number.....oh who can keep track.  Full of overtures of enamored affection, passionate embraces and dreams of new beginnings.  Overwhelmed by the outpour of infatuation, I once again, overcome with thirst, drank it in, willingly, fully, with thankful arms.  And true to form, the demons found themselves in very desirable packages. 

Things are never what they appear to be.

And this supposed Prince turned out to be yet another coward hiding behind his controlling counterpart, cowering in the corner and secretly wishing he could escape to work to breathe in some much needed oxygen.  Where he stands, he has to take more breaths to get the same amount of oxygen and the inevitability of asphyxiation looms overhead.  Poor guy. 

Oh, but wait.

Enticed to engage in a seemingly blithe interchange the player suddenly revealed their hand: it is not in fact the Prince you are engaging, it is her!  Predictably, the man, claws of contention poised to strike, has duped me!

Damn.

And intuition at hand, I recalled what had almost spared me from all of this a month ago.

I had an obviously spirit filled impulse, an overwhelming desire to leave my job after the bombardment of hate that showered my phone and computer because the minions of Mr. Indecisive were much too close to my daily parameters.  But the Prince, poised ever so seductively against my gate of freedom, tempted me to stay.  His clear affection for me hit me right in the crack of my ever so vulnerable heart and I was not strong enough to follow what my intuition was desperately willing me to do.  Just as months prior when I was prompted to fast from the Insane One, his overtures of desire for me clouded my knowing spirit.

My vulnerability, my point of no return, lies in men who need me, who deceive me into believing they "love" me.

But they don't.

They are merely insecure narccissists, floundering and lost, using my inner light and strength to keep them afloat, suffocating me in the process.

And here we've dubbed such selfishness as romance.

Repulsive.

He had even uncandidly revealed his true motives in saying, "I selfishly want you to stay for personal and professional reasons."  Selfishly.  That should have been my first clue.  But as I said, my cracked heart of vulnerability.  Hopeless to the pleading eyes of desperate men.

A well played hand, I must say.  He had played the different role most favorably.  "I'm not like other guys" was his adage of pride.  And I was much too willing to believe it.  Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids.  And that rabbit hole has long since rotted away.  It is most assuredly time to gather your sparkles and move on.

And praise be the Protector spared me any more wasted selfless love.

This treasure needs to be guarded.  Somewhere lives a Prince who will love with his selfless heart.  And I am preserving mine, in spite of the efforts of the Deceiving Liars. 

The Truth will always set me free.

'Tis a shame, you'll never know such sweet bliss.

A Truthful Mirror, Indeed

"Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body's rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who embraces her sexuality as her own.
A woman who delights in pleasuring herself.
Who experiences her erotic sensations without shame or guilt.

Imagine a woman who honors the body of the Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who has access to the full range of human emotion.
A woman who expresses her feelings clearly and directly.
Who allows them to pass through her as gracefully as a breath.

Imagine a woman who tells the truth.
A woman who trusts her experience of the world and expresses it.
Who refuses to defer to the thoughts, perceptions, and responses of others.

Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses.
A woman who produces original creations.
Who refuses to color inside someone else's lines.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman who refuses to surrender to gods, gurus, and higher powers.
A woman who has descended into her own inner life.
Who asserts her will in harmony with its impulses and instincts.

Imagine a woman who is interested in her own life.
A woman who embraces her life as teacher, healer and challenge.
Who is grateful for the ordinary moments of beauty and grace.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who trusts her inner sense of what is right for her.
Who refuses to twist her life out of shape to meet the expectations of others.

Imagine a woman who participates in her own life.
A woman who meets each challenge with creativity.
Who takes action on her own behalf with clarity and strength.

Imagine a woman who has crafted a fully formed solitude.
A woman who is available to herself.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to respect her solitude.

Imagine a woman who refuses to diminish her life so others will feel better.
A woman who brings the fullness of her years, experience and wisdom into each relationship.
Who expects others to be challenged and blessed by her presence in their lives.

Imagine a woman who assumes equality in her relationships.
A woman who no longer believes she is inferior to men and in need of their salvation.
Who has taken her rightful place beside them in the human community.

Imagine a woman who refuses to use her precious life-energy managing crisis and conflict.
A woman whose relationships deepen in satisfaction and contentment without depleting her.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the necessary skills to navigate through the challenges of life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine a woman who has relinquished the desire for intellectual safety and approval.
A woman who makes a powerful statement with every word she speaks, every action she takes.
Who asserts to herself the right to reorder the world.

Imagine a woman who has grown in knowledge and love of herself.
A woman who has vowed faithfulness to her own life and capacities.
Who remains loyal to herself.  Regardless.

Imagine yourself as this woman."

-Patricia Lynn Reilly