Random Acts of Awesome

Like a boundary challenged admirer... Ugh. I have to go back to NH soon, for the funeral of a family friend/uncle. Someone I grew up with, who I loved very much. Who also scared the shit out of me, who I didn't really understand, but who I learned a lot from. I haven't had time to deal with his death. He's been dying for a long time, but I've been gone. The last time I saw him, he was still hale and hearty, a big, handsome man with a huge smile. He was ready to die by the time he was gone, and it was good for him to be able to go. But damn. I... I don't deal with death and loss very well. Who does, right? But I get sick. Like, instant, physical manifestation of stress. Belly goes haywire, constant stress headache, sniffling and sneezing to come soon. It's ridiculous, and weak. Drives me insane. I desperately don't want to go to this funeral. And if I'm being honest with myself, it's because I don't want to see the people who are going to be

I was at a good friends house yesterday, making huge batches of ravioli with a group of women. It was a ridiculous amount of fun. The women who were there had everything to do with that, of course. Making ravioli is a LOT of fucking work. It's cool, and kind of zen. But it's not fun. The women, though... the women were fun. Julie, the woman whose house we were at, is amazing. She's a mama, and a sex kitten, and a philosopher, and a theoretician, and a girly girl, and just a brilliant human being. She's also a good friend. And she's teaching me some lessons about friendship that I should have learned a long time ago. I've always had a hard time relating to women. They feel like alien creatures from another planet, and when I try to talk to them, especially in groups, I get incredibly discombobulated and uncomfortable. I just don't know what to say. They're talking about things, for the most part, that don't make any sense to me. It's not th

I'm avoiding going home in order to avoid dealing with drama. Doesn't this feel familiar. I'm drinking too much to avoid dealing with drama. I'm spending too much, I'm eating too much... I'm pretty much just being a giant fucking pussy, because I hate dealing with drama. Even when its drama I've created. I need to own up to my shit. It's not all me, but I certainly helped create the situation that leads to this shit. Ugh. Ok. I need to go home and sleep next to someone who's probably not going to be talking to me, I get to deal with the cold shoulder for now, because I'm not allowed to push the issue for my own comfort. Lancing the boil works for me, but it doesn't work for everyone. And I have to just fucking deal with that. As much as it sucks. And it really fucking sucks. I hate the silent treatment more than almost anything. I hate cold politeness. This is why I have such a hard time with the idea of dating a woman, because this is h

I release you. I wish for you justice, and love, and a return of all that you have wished for me. And I let you go. I lose the hooks you had buried in my skin. I wash them away with intention, with mugwort and nutmeg and clove and rosemary. I stare into the gentle flame, and I breath in the smoke. I sluice my skin with water and soap, and I watch the strings wrapped around my heart dissolve and run down the drain, a black dirt I didn't realize fouled my soul. I don't wish you harm. I just wish you gone. From my brain, from my actions, from my feelings. Just as I wish justice for you, I wish justice for me. I will suffer for what wrong I have done. But not for you. I suffer for myself, and for those to come who are worthy of my love. I am not sorry for your pain. You've brought it on yourself, you've actively pursued it and embraced it in your life. Just as I have. I choose to stop pursuing pain. I hope you come to the same decision. I really do. Goodbye. I hope yo