Flaws and fractures
I feel like a diamond being ground down by the tools of a jeweler. Unfortunately, there are flaws that threaten to fracture under the pressure. In regards to work, sometimes life is a dog’s breakfast but I am hungry for justice and that's why I rant and rage against authority. (Thanks Jason LOL).In regards to my relationships, or one in particular, there is the smallest little voice in me that cries out, 'Run away while you still can!' Its evil twin shouts, 'Traitorous wench, you are giving up your independence and letting a MAN in. EWWW!'I think about things like having my nails done and want to scream. That really and truly isn't who I am. I am a dirty-handed-doer. I am not a pampered-bungalow-bunny. I can NOT be a desperate housewife. I must keep my hands in the dirt. I must have reason to keep raging against authority. I must…Oopsie.Did anyone else hear that? I swear I heard a little, tiny crack.Really, it sounded like a crack in my cosmic egg.I wonder where it will lead. Will I be brave and forge a new life as a partner of my own creation, or will I become what the bunny he seems to want? Then again, maybe I will take the easy way out and run screaming into the woods, longing for another safe, fantastic infatuation. After all, the fantastic infatuation sustained me in relative sanity for the past three years, didn't it? Didn't it!? DIDN'T IT!!!?Oh my. Apparently I've found another crack.
My man is coming home. 
He has been staying in that other place that he used to live for three weeks and two days. Too long.
Tomorrow he will give his two week notice at work and the plan is to drive down to Mississauga and pick him and as much of his stuff as will fit in my car on the long weekend. We'll be back on Sunday or Monday to get the girls ready for their first day of school on Tuesday.
That will also leave the house to Ami to pack and move over the weekend.
Tight but doable.
My #1 Crush
I would die for you
I would kill for you
I will steal for you
I'd do time for you
I would wait for you
I'd make room for you
I'd sail ships for you
To be close to you
To be a part of you
'Cause I believe in you
I believe in you
I would die for you.
Time to make some room. Time to steal time. Time to get ready to be the me I want to be. I've done my time in a prison of unrequited love and now I'm ready for the real thing and am finished with waiting.
I want to be close to him. I want to breathe the air that he breathes. I want to be part of him to be complete with him to be real with him.
289 hours and counting...
The sum of all things is an infinite conjugation of the verb to do -- Thomas Carlyle
And what is there to do but to transpose the mundane into the mythical world of dreams made real. I am restless. I am anxious to get on with verbalizing... with doing... with being what I aim to be.
Let me drink deep from the cup of life. Let me stick a straw in and suck out every last drop of vital fluids. I will drive it deep, deeper than the knife of Romeo. Deeper than the darkest night of clouded, moonless wonder.
Let it begin NOW!
I am tired of waiting.
I want to burn in the fire of his embrace, to be utterly and completely consumed. I want to be, once again, deafened by the thunder of his heart. I want, again, for my sight to be absolutely eclipsed by his most radiant beauty.
Promises made in the heat of passion are standing like monoliths. Upwards they thrust from the cold ashes of my faded hopes and desolate longings. Strongly they stand and draw toward them the shimmering suggestion of a new dawn.
I believe!
For the first time in many years, I hold hope upon my tongue with pleasure and wonder at the lack of bitterness. The taste is sweet, salty and sort of mushroomy.
Ring on my finger
As I type I am glancing at my fingers on the keyboard and there is lovely antique silver Celtic band on my finger where Shaun put it before he left for Mississauga on Friday.
It represents his promise to return and make this real.
I don't want to type any more about it for fear of cursing what feels like a very good thing.
Suffice it to say I am afraid, excited, happy and deeply satisfied for the first time in a very, very long time. That also may explain why I look so tired in this pictures of us.
Fingers crossed. Breath held.
Chant the mantra: I deserve to be happy. It's okay to love and be loved.
And note to self... get a haircut! Sheesh.
I feel like a diamond being ground down by the tools of a jeweler. Unfortunately, there are flaws that threaten to fracture under the pressure. 
