teetalks

Technically it’s Wednesday now but I’m home from work wide awake, just thinking. Today is our 2 year anniversary and I can’t believe someone tolerated me and my madness for this long. That’s dramatic but I feel like I’m a handful. We moved into our new apartment and its quirky and cozy just like us. I feel very lucky that Paul is who he is and wanted to start a life together. I still feel like a lost little girl, homesick, wondering if all my decisions are the right ones. Like the fig tree, all that ripe fruit and I can’t decide which to choose. I don’t feel regret but I always think “was this right?”, I miss home. I miss the childhood I had at home. I’m lucky to have a beautiful relationship with my parents and I long for being small. When magic felt more tangible and life was full of color. Maybe thats why we have kids, to try and relive the joy of youthful magic. I think about being sad and scared when I was little but I come from a home full of love and acceptance, sad and scared were fleeting. Sure my dad is old school but he taught me so many things, I feel like I’m more of a lady because of how he raised me. Both my parents taught me life skills, cooking, sewing, how to be fearless, how to measure things properly, what certain phrases were, what to look out for. Their genuine and authentic good nature made me naive to the world, I’ve been burdened by my heart of gold, their hearts of gold. Their goodness and kindness, raised in a home of unconditional love did not prepare me for how cruel and abusive people can be. I am always trusting that people are good or honest, wanting whats best for me. I think if I had been raised with a little skepticism or more social discernment I wouldn’t have been so badly hurt. Now I understand it as lessons learned and those triiiialllsss and tribulations wouldn’t have lead me to Paul but why did I have to experience any of that? I try not to punish myself but its hard not to, I’m smarter than how I’ve treated myself. Then I think about the longing, the longing for being a kid. Am I stuck in time, never learning my lessons because I want to go back? I don’t think I would have done anything differently because I have no idea how my life would turn out otherwise, I have a good life. I am very loved, our home is sweet and warm and full of love. I miss my dog, 7 months without her and I still feel raw and ripped. My heart ripped. My heart shred apart, bleeding blistering broken, I miss all the pets before her, I long for them all. I don’t and can’t ever move on because that means I no longer have access to that love. It’s not like moving on from an ex, this love is different. They were my truest friends when I had none. When my dog died, Pauls mom saw a rainbow outside and I missed it, I ran out stubbing my toe hoping I could see it but, too late. I went back to bed and sobbed and wished her to send me one more rainbow so I knew she was ok and then, an hour later.

Another rainbow.

Just for me, I ran out screaming to Paul, SHENZI SENT A RAINBOW JUST FOR ME, I asked her to and there she is. My sweet gentle beautiful girl. I am longing in agony aching crying, I am sore and bruised. I miss her so painfully and dearly, I look for her spirit in every dog I pass. Am I torturing myself for longing whats left me? My dogs, my childhood. I miss home, I miss my room, I miss I miss I miss.