I have to admit. I write a lot of crap. But, for my private followers I either selectively email the results and the rest of you end up reading it here.
I know I could choose to have a more public following. Yet, somehow, even four years later, I feel someones personal boundaries and safety take precedence over any crap I write. That includes my rambling answers or blopping in someone Else's blog.
It has been a strange few weeks since I last really wrote anything. Losing Jan has left me completely numb and in shock. Of course, I knew she was dying. She and my uncle Steve were very open about it. They were clear that I was expected to stay and keep the horses along with Steve. I think the true reality of her being gone hit me when on Tuesday my cell phone rang at work. I knew from the voice on the other end that there was a sense of confusion and panic. It was my uncle at the feed store. He didn't know if we get orchard grass or timothy hay? For a moment, I panicked. I didn't know,either. Jan would phone order it in and we would just pick it up. I hung up the phone and had to go outside to cry. The full reality that these two horses are primarily in my care was overwhelming. And, for the first time, I really felt she was completely gone from the decision making, let alone the physical part.
The other factor is that although I think I knew since all the way back in November, my woman's intuition was telling me Xanax Man was slipping away. I could take the usual self blame road and say I am too independent for a man. I close them off or push them away before the real me shows up.Or, in this case ~the real me, who is an absolute mess, showed up too soon. The one that has shattered in to a million pieces and is still trying desperately put them back as they were before the broke. The broken version that shattered in to a million pieces after Prick took Guinevere away from me. Somehow, I knew deep down he was never really mine to begin with. His heart was elsewhere and I think we both desperately wanted to forget the ones in our past who broke us in the first place. Problem is, you can only become two hearts that beat as one, if the hearts are whole by themselves, to begin with. Neither one of us was quite there.
The hardest part for me was watching him try and do what was "right" when Jan died. The problem was he went through the motions but my sensitivity was at it's all time high. I can't explain psychic moments. They come unexpectedly and will not come on demand. I deep down knew he was trying to reach his ex at the very moment I needed him most. Whether it was just the holidays and pretending to be friends or he needed confirmation that his heart could move on, I will never know. I just know the intuition is strong enough to know he was no longer was connected to me.I may as well sat with a complete stranger.I knew by the end of the night we had Jan's memorial at the farm that I was felt more love from friends and strangers than a man I had supposedly fell in love with, yet couldn't be bothered to support my losing the most important people from my childhood, by just being there.
So, they say bad luck comes in threes. I lost both my bunners and Jan before the end of the year. Xanax Man and I split a few days in to the new year. Today I found out one of my very first neighbor friends, had died in an accident last night. I cry and feel no relief. It is just tears that flow because they are supposed to. Maybe, I cry knowing that right around the corner will be another number three.
Still one of my favorite videos, of all time. When she falls and breaks in to shards that turn to birds in flight~that is the vision I am holding on to. Rough couple weeks but I know that at least, I am not frozen where I was four years ago.
Love is a bird, she needs to fly
Let all the hurt inside of you die
When your heart's not open