Healing the broken
My stubborn heart and my healing mind often duel. This sends my spirit on a treacherous downward spiral. I have to accept action as truth. And I do, intellectually.
I’m reaching in the dark for solace. Anything. As I struggle to make sense of it,clichés run rampant in my busy mind, “if you love something,set it free; if it comes back it’s yours, if it doesn’t, it never was” or ”It’s better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all”.
Unrequited love is complete discomfort. The only remedy ? Time. Everything hurts. The way to heal is digging my way out the muddled mess of memories and my regrets. You are the love of mylife. But, I release you and I release me. I will create the closure I need.
I will feel again. I will love again. I will accept that you are not mine. I will go on.
I will live an extraordinary life of my own making. I will make my dreams come true. I will keep my heart open.
The healing?Self-love. My self-love is the greatest love of all.
Disappear,S.L,Disappear.
…Just like I’ll never take a shuttle to the moon,I’ll never get to love you. You don’t have patience for me and that hurts more than growing up without my Mother.
I was sure but not confident that night.As I drove closer to you,I got lost. I had to remember how to walk again just to get to you.
It was the darkest of my days when I came to you. I wanted you to tell me it would be okay, because you I would believe. I believed another but she died on me.
When someone gives you life, then dies,you’re like a newborn Deer. You’re pushed out of that warm,safe, womb. And instinctly told to walk. Nature say’s ‘life must go on’, you must stand on your own. My legs weren’t strong enough. I wanted to borrow your strength.
You stood out from the crowd and said,”No way”. I ordered a glass of wine,you said,”No,you don’t drink”. That was the beginning of the end (Although that glass of wine,three years later,would be the beginning of a life beyond imagination for me).
Sometimes, I drive pass that restaurant where we met 11 years after our love affair. I know I hurt you, maybe you wanted to hurt me back.Well,you did. If it makes you feel better - you succeeded in showing me what I gave up – what I’ll never have.You even got the last word.You lured me in, but you never let me back into your heart. Was I that cruel ? I guess you couldn’t feel me tell you in that kiss, that I’m forreal, I’m yours.
I am sorry.
At a christmas party, I heard you made a home with someone else. I thought my heart
couldn’t break anymore, but I learned that a broken heart can continue to break.In case you ever wonder,I do love you. I’d build you a world of warmth,loyalty,love.
I’d stand by your side, and when the day is over, I’d lay beside you. I should have told you that I don’t care about material things, when you said you couldn’t give them to me. I should have told you that all I wanted was you. I should have told you that I loved your home. I should have told you, I was hurt when you said that.Did you think I was that shallow? I could live off your love alone. Except,I do need a S 500 Mercedes Benz. 
I opened up my secrets to you.I trusted you to know my dreams. I told you the southern place I felt God. I told it’s where I’ll spend the last days of my life. Don’t you remember all you said? Dont you remember telling me,” have my baby and we’ll move there”.
Empty words.
I’m familiar with them.
One day the memories will fade. One day I will pass that place and it won’t mean a thing.
Presently,Life is excruciatingly exquisite,.
I’m parting with a gift to you…The worlds greatest disappearing act.
13
“Girl want’s “sunshine of the spotless mind”.
The phone rang and I answered it. A male voice was on the other end, he said,”Hello,I’m calling because I can no longer carry this and I want to know my father. I’m not calling to hurt you.” We talked for a while and I agreed to help him then we hung up.
I thought this only happened in movies. It’s funny what one does when they’re in shock. When I’m in shock I tend to get real smiley, welcoming,and real accommodating.
13 :
Say it. Say it girl.
Girl is testing the water.
Water is too violent.
Girl cannot say it.
Girl is shut down again.
His pain is bigger than mine.
He never said that.
He says girl is blind and doesn’t know the truth.
Girl is confused.
Girl says it. Good girl.
YOU DIED IN SUMMER
THE SOB :
I cried for you today and the strangest phenomenon happened…I began to throw up. I wrote you a letter while listening to Samuel Barber’s Adagio for strings. Very dramatic,I know.
HIM:
I remember how you saved my life. I remember dancing to live. I remember how my heart was crushing in those early days and how it was restricted.If my heart could breathe it would have lost air and died. But then there was you.My words are feeble they could never properly describe you.I am sorry for that. I made you about me. Your life was my life’s soundtrack. If my words were the blood supplying my heart… I’d cut my heart open and watch the blood drain till they turned into a language.You are all of me.I sometimes meet you in my dreams.You come to me as glitter.You pour your energy in me like an arrow to my chest.You always knew exactly where the hole in me was.
THE RAINMAKER :
You blew your head off. I collapsed in hysteria and was ejected from my body.I fell up into space.Where time doesn’t exist. Stars didn’t catch me.I couldn’t find your darkness.You left without a trace. Yet, your impression is cemented in the air.You come to me as butterflies. We fly boundless.Death will not separate us. My love know’s no end.I will not communicate with you through human vocabulary. I will tell you I love you through death’s terminology.
I welcome your ghost :
Come to me.
WELCOME TO MY BLOG DREAMERS…
“If you are a dreamer,come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer. If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!”-Shel Silverstein |
My name is Wildheart and I just want a normal life.
TWO MONTHS AGO:
I’m in sherman Oaks at a place called “The Psychic Eye”. I must admit it’s not my first time here.I have come here before when I needed answers,when I felt hopeless. Today is no different.Before heading in ,I read the resumes of the many psychics that are plastered outside the store’s window.I feel like Tarot today.
I’m ushered into a small room where I sit at the table. I’m across from a woman who introduces herself as “Patty”.”Think of one question that you would like answered and do this while shuffling the Tarot cards”,she instructs me.When I finished shuffling the cards, Patty broke them into two decks.”Now choose six cards and keep them faced down”,she told me. I watched her spread them out into a fan. She studied the cards while placing them face up.
She looked up at me and asked, “what do you want to know?”
Nervously and a little embarrassed,I tell her my question.
THE PAST :
I was sitting in Pedro’s truck when he paused before putting the key into the ignition.
Pedro : “Before we go I wanna take a look at you”, he said.Then he flipped on a light and stared at me.
Pedro: “You are so beautiful.”
TODAY:
“Meeting time”,the women called out.Today’s topic is “miracles”. We started our meeting with a prayer then went right into the night’s topic. Maya was first to raise her hand,” I wasn’t going to speak today” she began.”I don’t really have anything to say about tonight’s topic because I’m just so angry”.
Maya annoyed me because she continuously seemed to derail from the groups topics. So,I drifted off and worked on getting comfortable in my seat.Finally,Maya was done.
Elise raised her hand. Elise was a pocket of wonder to me.She was 75 yrs. old and very hip. I got a kick out of Elise’s habit of removing her shoes when she spoke.She’d bring one leg up to her lap then caress her toes.
I could never do that even if I wanted to – I ‘m too concerned about what others might think of me. Especially ,if I started playing with my feet.
I wished to have Elise’s ease in publicly being herself idiosyncrasies and all.
Elise : “What a great topic miracles.Miracles…Well,I have one in my life right now”,she said.”My first real love was this wonderful man named John.He was truly a colorful spirit.We fell in love and it was fiery. I mean it was big!
An all-encompassing love.I didn’t know where I ended and he began.We were two peas in a pod “,she chuckled.”Well, life happened, you know?”
(She sighs)
“Anyway,we broke up. He married,I married.We built our own lives and had our own families.Do you know that I never stopped thinking of that man?”
“Well,my husband died and later I heard John’s wife passed.I always wondered about him even years after my husband died.Then I ran into him.”
“We reconnected and it was as if the fire never stopped burning.Our love was still there.My miracle? We are two months married now.”
SOME HOPE :
Tears were pouring down my face,could this happen for me?
IT’S TOO BIG FOR ME TO CARRY:
I found Elise after the meeting and sat right next to her.”Elise that was the most,uh,for the lack of a better word,romantic!!!”,I told her.
“You see,I have a love that I believe is the love of my life.But I let him go.I broke his heart.
Now he’s married and I’m married.He just had a beautiful baby. We recently reconnected but I stopped it. It isn’t right.
I get on my knees and pray to God to rid me of this obsession.It’s not healthy. I pray to God and I beg him to take all the love I feel for him out of me.I can’t carry it anymore,Elise”
BE THANKFUL:
Elise : “Why do you pray to God to get rid of your love for him?”
Tears rolling down my cheeks.
Elise:” Why don’t you Thank God for what you had with him instead?”
5 MONTHS AGO :
While in the south, I came across three Native American musicians.They invited me to hear them play.I thought it odd that they were performing indoors at a church.Nontheless,I was open.Open to any good experience.
They opened a side door in the church.I was grateful, because the outdoor scenery was breathtaking.Tall trees,short trees, on green rolling hills.A moving silver river. The sound of birds…It was the perfect setting for their singing and drumming.
After the musician’s were done I got to talking to one of the singers.He had long grey hair that was parted straight down the middle of his head.”Do you want to partake in a smudge ? “, he asked. “A smudge?”I asked. “Yes a smudging”,he said.” Our Native elders have taught us that before a person can be healed or heal another, one must be cleansed of any bad feelings, negative thoughts, bad spirits or negative energy – cleansed both physically and spiritually. This helps the healing to come through in a clear way, without being distorted or sidetracked by negative “stuff” in either the healer or the client. The elders say that all ceremonies, tribal or private, must be entered into with a good heart so that we can pray, sing, and walk in a sacred manner, and be helped by the spirits to enter the sacred realm.”
( Native people throughout the world use herbs to accomplish this. One common ceremony is to burn certain herbs, take the smoke in one’s hands and rub or brush it over the body. Today this is commonly called “smudging.” In Western North America the three plants most frequently used in smudging are sage, cedar, and sweet grass.)
THE SMUDGE:
After my smudge I felt a great oneness with God. I was clear. I realized God never left me,I left him.
NEW JOURNEY:
I can hear my soul.My higher consciousness.I was strongly connected to energy – the mind field I’d return to after this life.
I renamed myself “WildHeart”.
NOT WAITING :
I do not concern myself with the wreckage of my future. I am now.I am the present. The answers will come and thy will be done.I am acceptance.I adore my life.I choose me.
Cry
THE START:
I wasn’t dating Jack but I was living with him in a one bedroom apartment sleeping on his couch. I was homeless and he let me stay for $75 bucks a month. Living with Jack was hard and awkward– he was the first man I ever lived with.Our relationship was purely platonic. He had feelings for me and since I did not, I chose to stay in denial about it. His feelings for me felt like a betrayal. A betrayal because he was my best friend and we were like siblings.
AT THE SAME TIME:
It was during this time I started dating a man 15 years my senior. I was desperately in love with him. He was my world, my lover, and age didn’t matter. For the whole duration of our love affair, many people tried to break us up. I was determined to have Pedro’s love and love him back, despite every one’s warnings.
IT HAPPENED IN MY MIND:
In my mind I was going to marry Pedro, have his children—a son named Montezuma—and move into his artsy downtown loft. I fantasized about our future together. I’d bring him coffee while he, hunched over his desk, wrote scripts and poems…
TRUE:
These were great writings, philosophies of hope, and education on the struggles of Chicanos. I believed in his beliefs, they were a movement, a revolution if you will. He was a Chicano John Lennon. He would lead the world towards a peaceful understanding of racism. He’d introduce awareness and a solution. His whole existence was dedicated to shinning a light on the suppression of this beautiful culture.
JUST A FANTASY:
In my fantasies I’d fix Pedro breakfast,I’d bring him the newspaper, I’d be his thoughtful wife.
HIS PLACE:
An old transistor radio atop the fridge in the kitchen would fill the loft with 1930s jazz music. Huge canvases of Frida Kahlo served as makeshift walls that housed his bed. A bed where we routinely made love,lie naked, drank wine, and watched The Conan O’Brien Show. We were never big on Jay Leno. We were New York lovers at heart.
A chair with wings sat on a stage in the living room. The stage’s purpose was for spoken word; where many great Chicano Lover and his Chicano friends shared their writings.
There was an upstairs room that housed a bench for lifting weights. I can remember him taking my hand in his, guiding me up the ladder to a small room. A room that housed a weight lifting bench.He laid me downon it, removed my clothes and made love to me.
IT NEVER HAPPENED:
After a night of wild Stallion love making,I’d awake to find him sitting at his desk – deep in thought with pen in hand.I’d get up walk over to a wood cabinet where black and white photos of his deceased Tia’s were and refill the shot glasses of tequila he placed as an offering to them. Spotting him at his desk, I’d walk over to him and tightly wrap my arms around him.
I’M NOT:
I am not an affectionate person
I often don’t like to kiss but him
I can never get enough.
I loved him.
Loving him was electrifying.
He set my wild heart on fire.
Pedro had me body and soul. He was the love of my life.
I would never love again the way I loved him.
He was my Aztec king with beautiful brown skin tatted forearms that wrapped around me in the safest embrace. The world could crumble and it didn’t matter because I had him.
THE VIPEROOM
I met him on Cinco De Mayo at a Sunset club. He told me he wouldn’t leave without my phone number. His eyes shined as did his long black hair. It was love at first sight.Yet,he was so familiar. We had to have been lovers in some other place and time.Maybe a past life.
Much later down the road I would break my own heart and his. I would give in to these rumors of his infidelity.
Oh. God. How I mourn losing him…
It was a death but worst than a real deat because he was still alive and no longer mine.
He did try to get me back, at my job, co-workers told me he had come by looking for me. He left notes, poems, and pleas for me to call him.
BECAUSE:
I never did call. Friends would tell me he was known around town as a playboy.
You hear a lie so much you believe it.
I used anger to get over him. I hated him for years. I never told Pedro why we were over and that was how it ended.
YEARS LATER:
Time would bear proof that all the rumors were not true. In fact, most of these rumors came from Jack, my best friend. Every one of Jack’s friends told me Pedro cheated on me. Sixteen years later, Jack admitted he sabotaged the relationship. He sabotaged it because he wanted me.
When he told me this,I literally felt pain in my chest. It ached. I felt every crack forming as my heart broke.
THE SADDEST PART:
Eventually Jack did get what he wanted.
One afternoon Jack had a songwriting session in our tiny one bedroom apartment with a guy named Paco. They drank Tecate beer and when they ran out more booze was bought and consumed. I participated in this mass booze consumption because I was feeling worthless (a usual feeling for me). I had been fired from my job on the basis of theft…an untrue accusation that seeped into my soul, creating a huge hole. Alcohol would alleviate my agony and fill this hole inside me, and for a while it did.
Sometime during that night I awoke to Paco’s hands down the front of my pants. He was forceful and out of line with his advances. He began kissing me, trying to force my mouth open so he could slip his tongue in. I weakly fought him off as I was so obliterated from the booze. In my stupor my only tactic was to explain to Paco that I was in love with Pedro and he was my boyfriend. I pleaded with Paco to stop.
He didn’t.
Paco ignored my pleas and continued trying to have sex with me. I was in a state of shock and I tried to push away his grabbing hands but it was to no avail.
The next thing I know the bedroom lights went on and Jack was standing in the doorway .This made Paco get off me. Jack turned the lights back off and stumbled away into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of rum and began to chug it down like one would water. When he finished the whole bottle he passed out on the couch. Paco was hurrying to zip up his pants he left the bed and me in it . Paco didn’t say anything except to ask Jack ”Why do you do this to yourself?” I heard Paco fumbling around gathering his instruments to leave. Finally he left.I heard door close behind him. The house fell silent and I fell asleep.
