thoughts for an insomniac

For the next 6 weeks I will be waking up early to get to a class by 9am on Saturdays that may not even benefit me.  Lord knows I’ll be showing up hungover half of the time.  Am I just spinning my wheels here?  Are the hoops I’m running through ad nauseum really going to propel any kind of real tangible action in my life?  I feel like my efforts are pointless.  What do I need to do to create forward motion?  What is it in me that I am stifling?  I’ve finally got an idea for a script, I don’t know if I want it to be a short or a play…but it least it gives me something to do in my incredibly “down time”. 

 

I’m still waiting on my bra and he’s acting like he’s too busy to put the thing in a bag and drop it off with my neighbor.  I don’t want to see him anymore.  Sex with the ex is NEVER a good idea.  Especially if he has “things” to attend to.  I went to a psychic about a year ago and the first thing she said to me before I even sat down in front of her cards and crystal ball (not really) was,

 

“Oh boy, you have broke some poor young mans heart, his energy is ALL around you.  He is still nursing those wounds and it is not pretty”

 

Needless to say, the rest of the reading went downhill from there.  Why is it that I am now the one suffering when I was the one that broke it off?

 

I never thought I would feel like this about him.  I meditated on it, I cried wishing he could find someone who loves him for him without judgment, who could give him the affection that I couldn’t.  I wanted the best for him.  I still do, but now…damn, now I’m Just not in the place I was a year ago.

 

I was confident, comfortable in my own skin, less desperate and less in need of a huge “search” for something…less restless.  I honestly believed that what I wanted for him was right.  Don’t get me wrong I prayed for myself as well but, I truly asked the universe to hand him something wonderful and now I’m regretting it.

 

I’m not his something wonderful. 

I’m not his something wonderful.

 

I’ve said it before, I’m hardest on myself than anyone else and that just sucks.  And I hate playing the martyr role or the victim, I’m no fucking victim just one of my own doing.  I’ve worked so hard to be strong and to steer clear from vulnerability that when it comes on…it REALLY fucking comes on.

 

Whatever, gotta get up at 7am tomorrow, find some coffee and get my ass to class.

 

Good night.

-don’t let the bed bugs bite.

 

~ by Timbre on March 28, 2008.