If I could remove space and time, I would understand why everything had to take place as it did.
Of all the things I lost, on my journey of losses in which began in 2010, the thing I regret losing the most is my spirituality. I loved my spirituality like warm bubbly water, it was my place where I lived in amazement of smiles and change and hope. I would smoke my weed and decide to pray/meditate, interacting slowly and knowingly with everything that was. Studying and sometimes reconvincing the bad, while enjoying and flirting with the good. With my eyes closed, kush in my brain I would travel with soothing sounds to places where the wind licked my nipples and the sun pricked my skin. Where colourful beautiful flowers would tease my nostrils and grass would cushion my feet, toes sunk all the way in….earth. Connected it would be bliss, so good it is sexual, as everything I am gets connected. and I am sexual, we are all sexual.
This connection I would crave every day, deep down feeling as though I was cheating on my lover, only me feeling all this pleasure.
I lost my spirituality and my ability to live in awe of life, and smiles, and change and hope. Everything was just overwhelming horrible one day, I saw little hope and almost no more smiles, Change was not coming fast enough. Work, Relationship, came slamming at my sides and in my head like cymbals, at the same time. Relationship seemed to be suffering from my 24 hour need to be at work, writing proposals, working to convince funders that we were a solid agency providing what we say we did, trying to convince our customers that our way of doing business had changed and we were ready to provide them the very best service hope can buy. Staff no longer seemed to care, as things had changed too quickly I believe, Clients believed the hope I sang, and started coming on strong; my relationship started fading as I protected my change ferociously, I expected her to be there, but when I looked around she was no where. I would come home from work tired and she would just be there, nothing much affected, nothing at all moved. I remember clearly the day it snapped, in a coup organised by the staff to complain that though I had worked my ass off to get a $40million dollar proposal to provide well needed infrastructure, secured everyone’s salary and a few little programmes, they still didn’t have enough. Whilst still feeling the pain and hateful stabs of a staff rationalising process as the agency was flat out broke with no one trusting to give grants anymore, I was at my wits end and everything crashed to the floor.
That is when my period of losses began, struggle as I did, the thought of putting those homeless boys back on the street, knowing who they are and what they need, losing clients who didn’t need to die in an age of free drugs and good care, send my mind into a tailspin so powerful, I only wanted to lie there. My brain was dead, certain words would just trigger uncontrollable tears and stuttering anywhere anytime; and so I lost my passion when I lost my mind. I lost my mind and for about an entire year I could do nothing, be no where, see no one, tell nobody. Locked up in a prison. She was there. I am glad. She listened to my fears, watched for my tears and held me close. I got out and was revived again, started to see smiles, tasted hope, wanted change so I started again. I called it my Oasis, as we all needed a place to just relax and rejuvenate, plot and recreate. The smiles and the power of impending change was undeniable, once again I expected her to be there whilst I suffered with this one, very little and no sleep, constant creativity. I remembered this place all too well, it was just a year ago, my needs not on her radar, but I have been here before so I knew I needed more. Frustration again driving me crazy, beating down my front door. I dallied but not intending to glide. I cheated and really liked the attention I got outside, that I had been craving from her all those other times. Things got ugly, I am sure I was not in my right mind, cheating was never something I supported, what I always did was to stand by her side. The truth is it felt really good, I would never imagine being treated like that, it was never about sex, it was the attention I got. She cared to go out of her way to make sure I was ok, she spoiled me constantly and looked at me lovingly. I needed that and wanted it from my lover, the one I had known for 6 years, not this stranger. My bull only moved when she felt like and only did what she wanted, compromising for me was never on that ox’s agenda. Shit kept hitting the fan, till its blades started flying. What is left behind now is a bloodbath, a slew of broken bones and raw tissue. No doctor can patch, no midwife can stitch up.
When I lost my relationship I thought I lost it all.
I get it now and with what feels like final tears, I cry. Though I hope these are only actually my final tears, and when I cry, I would have learnt and avoid making the same mistakes twice. Sometimes it is necessary for everything to just DIE