I’ve been conversing with myself a lot these past two days.  I’ve been mostly alone, and just making up imaginary conversations with people in my head, which is probably the worst possible thing that any one person could do.  In your mind conversation, you can be SO melodramatic, and you always know the right thing to say, and the other person always says exactly the worst thing or maybe the perfect thing or whatever it is that you need them to say- so you just repeat the same conversation over and over again, changing a phrase, repeating a great moment, letting it spiral and spiral outward more and more until its a totally different conversation- and suddenly I am crying about something that never even happened.  I don’t know why I do it- or if it is something everyone does- and why I cannot just let it go, break it from my mind completely and be able to close my eyes and sleep- or move on to something more productive- but it never seems that I can.  I just want one peaceful night free of worry.  One restful sleep that is not mired in misery and fear.  If I had some drugs I would most certainly take them.  There is little I would not do to free myself from this feeling tonight.

Parfois, les choses qui sont tellement imprévu. Vous êtes progressait à votre propre rythme et soudain, quelque chose se met sur votre chemin et comment les changements que vous voyez le monde. Tout à coup, vous êtes pleins d’idées que vous n’avez jamais pensé était possible, et votre esprit se remplit de pensées que vous restez la nuit. Je veux vraiment que cela soit mon commencement. Je suis prêt. Je suis tellement pleine d’amour. Le ciel est plus bleu tant qu’il ne l’était la semaine dernière. Priez pour moi. Répondre à mes prières, Dieu que j’aime tant.

Sometimes I feel like Leda- constantly fucked over by a big, horny bird.

I’ve been alone in the house for a couple of days now.  Friday, Saturday, Sunday- the tail end of a pretty thanksgiving.  I think a lot.  I think the primary function of a roommate or mate is to prevent long stretches of profound thinking.  I just downloaded the new Tori Amos holiday song album and have been listening to her very supple and unique tone- she’s something special- she moves right through my heart like a painful but beautiful breath.  Sometimes I feel like she is what the voice inside my head sounds like.

Lavan, my constant companion, is peering at me. Like the child born to keep together fading lovers she tries to pull me out of my reverie, shoving her toys at me, showing off, offering me her kisses as if she were a consolation prize.  I cannot picture days like this without her diligent attention on me.  “I’m pretty Mommy.  You’re pretty Mommy.  I love you Mommy. Look what I have for you. Want to throw this for me?  Maybe we could just sleep.”  It’s a song her eyes sing on repeat for me.  Seamus sliding in to sit beside us, I wonder if this is how it will always be.  Just me and them.

I often think that the answer is change- change something.  Change what I do, change who I see, change how I look- just make some change that will bring me closer to someone that someone needs.  I think though, no matter how many times I think it, it must be the wrong answer.  If it were the right answer then I would change.  And things would get better.  I wouldn’t feel like this anymore.  I cannot tell you how many dates I went on this year, thinking someone, anyone, could work out and end this.  No one was anyone I wanted to see more than once, maybe twice if I forced myself.  No one was anyone I didn’t think I would rather be home with my dog for.  No one was anyone that looked at me with even an ounce of recollection for the amazing depth and quality of my heart.  And worse, the ones, or I should say, one, who whispered at my core for the first time in, hell, years, only to systematically disappear making me wonder if I imagined the whole thing.  Sometimes I want to relocate my entire heart and replace it with something smaller cheaper and easier.  I am growing so tired of trying, and I haven’t even begun to try.

I wish it was early enough to go to bed, even if its only return to the same dream I have almost every night. A hard thing to wake up to every morning, the same old violence by a varied cast of characters.  But insomnia doesn’t work.  Waking dreams are as bad.  I am ridiculously looking forward to being back at work tomorrow where I am distracted and I can enjoy the company of people who value me.  Imagine that.  I suppose that is my fault, too.  Like everything else.  Like every other failure.  I don’t want this path anymore but I cannot seem to find a different one.

Gentle.  Gentle, I tell myself in these wee hours of morning when I stand very precariously balanced between the sweet respite of slumber and the aching chasm of insomnia.  My little dog is peacefully sleeping beside my bed, stretched out trustingly- my orange cat is beside me, fast asleep on his back, the white fluff of his belly fur wafts gently in the wake of good old Lasko, my industrial window fan.  They almost mock me, these sweet creatures.

So I try to be gentle.  I try not to push my mind in any one direction.  I try to break out of the myriad of expectations that keep me walled here on this bed, lonesome, with slumber just out of reach.  I just cannot seem to free myself of it tonight.  I want to be a tattle tale.  I want to tell on myself- just get out the phone and run down my address book, calling everyone and confessing all that I have kept from them.  Once, just once, I want to be the one who ilicits the jealousy and not the one who feels it.  I don’t care how selfish that sounds, it’s true.  I want something enviable.  Or maybe I don’t.  Perhaps what I truly want, is sleep.

I’m feeling it rather hard today- jealousy knawing at me, fear knawing at me, the echo of handprints and bloody lips knawing at me- even after such a wonderful night- perhaps even moreso because I had a wonderful night- they creep in, try to take hold, and try to shake from my grasp any semblence of serenity.

Lavan is barking in her dreams, I’ve never heard her do that before.  Possibly it is God’s way of telling me to stop the panicking, stop the foolish self examination, and join her in sleep.  I think I shall try to take his advice, for my part.

I hope I can give you more, when next I give.

“I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety” (Psalm 4:8)

…that He might be my shepard.

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There is a lot of writing to do.  I write for Suffolk, I write for Boston Theatre Review, and I write for me.  When I am done with those, if there is time, then I can write for the Urban Virgin.  Of late I have not had the time for all, and my heart simply wasn’t in it.  Of course a ton of things have happened to me both wonderful and terrible, there have been a multitude of gains and losses, and several new births.  I am skipping over all of that on the premise that most of you loyal readers, that is, perhaps, one person who still looks at the blog regularly, already know what has been happening to me on a day by day basis and you don’t need me to recap.

Instead, I am going to share this writing prompt that I picked up from Soleil Moon Frye’s Twitter, which I found because she is friends with Demi Moore who is friends with Elizabeth Taylor whom I just added to my twitter because I love her more than any other perfume maker with scoliosis.

If no one was left on the planet except for you and 1 other person, who would you want it to be?

It seems like a simple question.  Most people have an immediate answer that springs to mind, I know I did, and it filled me with wave after wave after wave of horror because I realized that person would not have chosen me.  I sit here, paralyzed by sadness and nausea because the person who I immediately and spontaneously decided I would rather spend every day for the rest of my life than any other human on this earth would not reciprocate.  What am I going to do?  How am I going to remedy this?  How do you stop your soul from wanting another?  I’m not talking love- ick- to assume I mean that I have romantic love for this person is absolutely ridiculous and unfair because it isn’t about love at all.  It is so much worse than love.  I don’t know what to do.
Perhaps I need to hold auditions.  Would anyone like to take the position of person I most wish to be with alone for the rest of my life?  The terrible reality is that I do not think there is a soul alive who would want to take the job.  I know that doesn’t make me a minority- but it sure makes me feel like a failure.  27 years on this earth and I have not one human that would want to choose me above all others?  Well for goodness sake what the hell have I been doing with my time?  It is like a globally epic failure.

Damn you Punky Brewster.  Damn you and your deep thoughts!

Look at that sardonic smile and sarcastic thumbs up.  Way to ruin my life.

Ever Virgin.

I slept alone a lot this week.

There are many nights when I go to bed with so many things and people beside me, upon me, inside me- filling me up and scouring me clean or rubbing their dirt into me- but this week, in silence, most every night, my mind was just an echoing sound, quiet and white like a fan, and it was good.

I slept well and deeply, I cried only as I wished to and not for long- only to release what came to my pillow with me- anger and frustration- trying to rectify wonder and awe with pain and saddness.  I was able to cast them all out of bed with me.  Perhaps it is the newness and cleanness in the air.  Perhaps because I have too many social occassions to fill my calendar and don’t need to rely on who is home to keep me company.  Perhaps I am just tired of aching for things I don’t have control over and being angry with myself over perfectly rational feelings.

Sometimes I feel like I lost my best friend.  Then I remember.  I did. I have. and history repeats itself over and over again.  That used to knaw on me, keep me up at night- tack itself right on to any other emotion and make it ten times worse but now- now- I barely feel it.  I’m worth more.  I am the best friend a best friend could ever need and if those best friends out there cannot hack it they can move on- because I am not changing the way I love a friend to suit their substandard desires.  I won’t do it.  I’m going to love you anyway.

And I sleep better now.

And sometimes I forget to miss you.

And sometimes I remember not to miss you.

Ever Virgin.

Sometimes I feel so used up.  I know that I have choices in this life- choices about what I can do and who I can spend time with and what I do and do not do for others.  I know, logic is present.  I know that I don’t have to bend over backwards in service to people.  But I do.  I do absolutely everything that is asked of me and more.  Then I get mad at myself for expecting in return, love and respect and companionship.  I am furious with myself that I get sad when people seem to not care about my feelings.  I should not care about them, if they do not care about me- but I do, I do care.

Then, I try to convince myself that I am a bad person, not worthy of attention or care- not worthy of praise and gratitude.  I try to extoll all my faults until I am convinced that people should treat me as they do- like I am nothing, like I am worthless.  Even though my logic tells me I am being irrational- it just hurts too much to think that I love someone so much that doesn’t care about me.

So ultimately I sit here, with tears so close to the surface of my eyes that I can actually feel them hanging under the lids, heavy and fuzzy, and stew in my anger and hate every minute that I feel so alone.  Why do I feel so alone?  Why do I feel so unloved?  How did this happen?  How did I become someone who feels like they have to earn the love that they give so freely to others?

I just want him to come home.  I hate being here alone and that makes me feel stupid.  I am a stupid, stupid, stupid stupid girl.

Ever virgin.

Mary, Mother of grace, Mother of mercy, shield me from the enemy and receive me at the hour of my death.

Merciful Mother, guide my hands and guide my heart on this almost impossible journey.  Know that I am a sinner, cast among sinners, and struggling in the darkness of my own loneliness.  Shield me from my want. Encircle me in Your arms so I do not feel the biting of Jealousy and Envy. Walk beside me, Mother Divine, and give me your hand that I might find comfort.  You who brought me the Savior, You who are Mother to the world, give me the courage to face the hurting.  Help me, please, for I am lost, and You can help me find my way.

In your Son’s name.  Amen.