Monthly Archives: November 2012

You Should Be There #PYHO

Today I’m joining in with Shell for Things I Can’t Say.

I sit and think back over my life. At the times you were there, the times you weren’t, and the times you should have been. I think of the moments in life when I have needed you more than anyone or anything, and you weren’t there.

I wear the knowledge of this pain everyday, but especially now, as I need you again, and still you aren’t there.

Throughout my life, you have been many things to me, and I to you, but I always believed in my heart that we had a special bond that was just ours. One that defied everything, including the disapproval and jealousy of her.

So many times, I withstood her wrath of not being the favorite in my heart. I absorbed her vicious comments, her hurtful words, and lost her without ever knowing her love or approval, in part, because of my love for you.

Now, the pain I couldn’t deal with months ago consumes my heart. In spite of the hurt between us, I loved her too. I am alone with my pain because I don’t have you to turn to, and that is another pain.

I pick up the phone, knowing that even if you answer, you are too deep in yourself to help me now. I feel disillusioned, I feel let down, I feel abandoned by the one person I never expected it from.

You know the truth of the life she gave me, yet you deny it in honor of a memory that is false. The person you claim she was only ever existed in your mind. You deny me my truth to protect someone that never loved anyone more than she loved herself. When did I come to mean so little, or was your love for me only a by-product of your love for her? Did our bond only ever exist in the mind of a frightened child and desperate adult?

Yesterday, I picked up the phone again, not certain what to say if you answered. Uncertain even of how to talk to you anymore. Who are you to me now that she’s gone? Or have I become just another memory to you?

Raven Moon

*This post is an attempt at healing. Since the loss of my mother, my family had completely fallen apart. Right now, I’m trying to work through my feelings about the only farther I ever had. A man who was once my God-Father become step-parent when I was 10. I have been a “Daddy’s Girl” almost my whole life. The separation since Mom passed is ripping my heart out, especially with the holidays at hand.

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Freedom

I sit and stare at the wall, remembering what it felt like to feel imprisoned by invisible chains. My wrists still chafe from the friction of my bonds. A jailer with a black heart watching my suffering in silence.

Even now, my freedom seems surreal, even though my heart still bears the proof of scars to show that my debt has been paid.

A debt we created, but I never understood. A price left to me alone to pay. A price I’ve paid many nights over as I lay soaked in the sweat of my fears, useless tears streaming from eyes that could no longer see beyond the blackness of my prison.

My chest aches at the memory of nights spent curled on the floor beating my rage and helplessness with clenched fists, unable to move, afraid to breathe.

I pull myself from those memories, reminding myself that that life is no longer mine. Shaking myself like a rag doll to clear away the last of the visions burned into my heart.

I stand alone on the porch, eyes searching for the water just out of reach and have to pull myself back from the beating of yet more memories that found an end to the pain in those murky depths. The siren call of false freedom.

A raven calls in the distance and I know my Goddess is not yet done with me. I am reminded that service to my Goddess is never an easy path. I knew this years ago when I tried to deny Her call. She is well known for tearing down her followers to rebuild them in whatever way pleases Her.

The wind lifts my hair from my face as I unconsciously rub my writs, a habit I picked up somewhere over the years without realizing it. This time, I’m reminded of my freedom as my fingers glide over flesh, feeling for bonds that I could never touch but could feel with my heart.

In this moment, I find an imperfect perfection and I can feel the stirrings of wings upon my back. A raven circles and calls me to flight, offering another kind of freedom.

The first real smile in years lifts the corner of my mouth, transforming me into a semblance of someone I used to know. A reflection that rippled and changed until I didn’t know myself anymore now smooths and shows me with clarity how much the years have changed me.

As I look deeper, I see the woman life never gave me the chance to be standing side by side with the woman I became. As I watch, the surface shimmers again and the two women begin a dance like flames in a fire. Twisting and curling, bending into and out of each other, dancing away and then back.

I know that the Goddess is offering me a gift through the sight of the raven. This is my next challenge. No rest for the weary or the wicked, and I am both. I am to cross the distance between who I thought I was and who I am and make my peace with both so that my vision can dance into a single burning flame that flares in the darkness, lighting my way.

My last challenge was to walk alone in the darkness. This challenge will create the light that was lacking to illuminate my path. I know that this will be another long, hard road paved with sweat and sacrifice. My only tools are the lessons I have learned during my last ordeal and the visions the Goddess chooses to show me.

With a deep breath, I lift the hem of my skirts, cast a nod to the raven that swoops to light on my shoulder and take the first step on the path my Goddess had chosen for me.

*Author’s Note: I promised a few people recently that I would let my true voice be heard. This is it. This is me. These are the words that burn in my head begging for a release I’ve denied them.

Once I wrote a piece for the original PoM site about the ending of my first marriage. Anyone that read that piece might hear the similarity of the voice it was written in.

I am an almost morbid person and much of my writing is done from places of pain. Phoenix writing, if you will. My words often rise from the ashes of my soul.

At any rate, this is me, laid bare for the world to see.

Blessings,

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Making It Work

Not many people are aware of the reality Draco and I have been living. Most people don’t know all of our history, the things that have been said and done that no two people who truly love each other should have done.

Very few people know that while we still cared for one another and have continued to stay together, that our relationship lacked substance.

Fewer still are aware of how close we recently came to going our separate ways.

I have to admit that even though I knew I would always love Draco with all my heart, even I was on the verge of giving up. There has been something between us for years that neither of us could move past, each for different reasons.

I told Draco recently that I couldn’t live this way anymore. I needed closure of some sort, and so did he. We needed to move forward somehow. I was beyond caring how. I told him he had until the end of December to figure out what he wanted and to make something happen.

I have to be honest. I expected to start the new year heartbroken and alone.

I took him for a trip down memory lane, to the place it all began to go wrong, giving him the option of a different life. It was a gamble, and one I fully expected to loose. That was a few weeks ago now.

Last weekend, we spent the weekend at home. Just the two of us. It began quietly, neither of us saying much, but on Sunday, my world changed.

Draco had finally made a decision about what he wanted and I was shocked to find that it was me.

Sincere apologies were offered for things said and done years ago. We talked, really talked, for the first time in years. The beginnings of something new for us glimmered like an oasis in the desert. Hearts reopened to the possibility that we might not be done yet.

The last few days, I have been happier than ever. I’ve managed to loose weight without trying and can even see the difference in the mirror. Day to day struggles have seemed smaller than they used to be. Colors seem brighter, my “job” as a housewife seems more of a joy, knowing I’m taking care of a man that works hard every day to come home to me.

Draco seems happier too. There’s been real laughter this week as we’ve loved, played and acted silly to make each other laugh. He seems lighter when he comes home from work and has mentioned looking forward to the long weekend, eating lots of turkey and getting in lots of snuggles on the couch.

I’m happy to say that even my passion for sharing my life through my writing is returning, something I was beginning to fear I’d lost forever.

I’m in the process of changing the blog back to Phases of Me, where I actually got my real start blogging. I’m changing my blog identity to Raven Moon, and my style of writing may soon change to the voice I speak with in my mind instead of the voice my family told me was acceptable. These are things that have been pulling at me for some time now.

With Draco’s support and encouragement, I no longer feel the need to hide who I am from anyone. I know that, come what may, he loves and accepts me, and that’s all I ever really needed or wanted. The rest will find it’s way.

I hope that everyone considers the changes positive ones and chooses to stick around, but either way, I’ve got to be me.

Love and light,

Raven Moon

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