corrections

I have two ideas in my head regarding Cliffy:

1. I was so wrong to ask for my house key. I can trust her - she's not the kind to go to my house without first calling to make sure - and i do still care for her tremendously. she's always got something going on with family or work and just can't give a lot of time.

or,
2. My house key floating around with her is a symbol of my heart out there, exposed. I can trust her with my home but not with my heart. I love her but we have never been something that she could manage and I realize I can't either.

So, she leaves me a message to say that she has a lot going on but then cuts herself off to tell me that I don't want to hear it. That hurts because it's untrue.

So I'm having these pieces of conversation with friends and we talk about the hurt that stops us from really enjoying ourselves, even stops us for allowing another person to enjoy us. In doing cleanup on the blog, I went through some entries from after my breakup with Ya Vez and, despite all the turmoil, I was happy to hear the young voice that was ready for the next step, for the future.

Eddie had said my voice changed. Maybe the bulk of this change happened with Cliffy. Our relationship struck me deeply and wasn't ever clean or smooth, despite our outward appearances. Ya Vez was intense and she really screwed me up but I came out of that fire reborn - a phoenix truly. I find myself still struggling a little, acting out my life and developing goals because I'm hoping some part of me will wake up and complete those things I know I want to accomplish. I felt horrible having to tell Cliffy that she was so far away from me. I've had some conversations with strangers in the last few days that have, whether by phone or in person, been so close. But, I remember Cliffy's slow withdrawal. How she could be sitting two feet from me and not be there.

I started a poem in my head last night, "corrections", that put these somnambulistic ideas to the forefront, that talked about the energy of arms crossed, the intent on our faces and in our bodies, the way someone closes their eyes while waiting for a kiss - that trust. The way a face may rest at someone's chest. Somnambulistic because we so often sleepwalk through our lives. I'm not necessarily pagan or wiccan but know that everything carries its distinct energy and, in bringing things together, energies are heightened. Like talking to plants, praying for someone miles and miles away, believing you are not alone.