In my living room, I escaped, hoping to escape my loneliness. I did it for years but somehow it feels different after the divorce.
We do what I used to call “Making Love”, he falls asleep and I drown in even more loneliness than I can handle. The bed is full of us; the heat of his body burns my soul. Yet there is the cold space in between our souls.
So, I escape the sleepless night, I escape the heat of his body, and I escape the monstrous truth. He was the wrong one for me.
I escape to the living room…
Maybe because of the word “Living”...
Maybe because the rot has made the bed “A Death Bed” in my head.
I’m not sure if I was escaping sleeping next to him or escaping what could have been between us.
Maybe I was escaping the heat of his body to train myself for today.
Maybe I was teaching myself a new way to live away from the rot.
I’ve made it, I escaped death, illness, and a rotten bed of deathly ill marriage.
It opened new doors, new stories, new places, and new adventures.
I met the fearful dreamer who called himself a “Just a Human” what a poor soul he was. Life has taught me that if everyone around you is leaving, maybe you are the reason. I listen to his complaints, nodding my head and holding my tongue.
I feared his outburst not because I feared him but because I was exhausted of men who can’t see their own flaws.
I listened and listened, until I remembered I’m no one therapist. I’m not here to uplift you alone.
I train and train to help myself. I walked away from the fearful dreamer with not even one tear.
Then I met the Swift. The bird who never lands, the one who I almost stupidly gave my heart to because he was a kind child.
Yeah, I did that…
He was a child, “Man” is too much for him. He thought life is about what you buy, where you can go, and how many beautiful women you can have.
One time I asked the Swift, what will you do when you are old and alone？! He said my money will buy nurses to take care of me and an army of maids to care for me.
Really?!
I realized he’s a broken soul who never got over his loss. So again, I’m not here to mend anyone's heart. I’m not here to fix anyone but myself.
I allowed myself to cry for just one day this time.
I reminded myself that no one is worth my tears, but I’ll cry for the time wasted, and then I will laugh for not falling for that trap.
I continued sleeping in the living room. I continued blasting the TV to fill the void of emptiness.
Until tonight…
Tonight, I realized my inspiration is back. My playful soul is back.
Tonight, the phoenix has completely awakened.
I can’t credit Hercules, since I’ve done all the work before I met him. I did all my homework, paid all my taxes, and closed all the books before I met him.
I did it myself…
However, I credit the spark he gave me. It was the last fiery feather I needed.
The cherry on the top as he calls it.
I just needed a muse, a hunky muse…
12 years trying to love a man to end up learning how to love myself first.
3 weeks to learn what I don’t want in a man.
3 months to learn to walk away with dignity before I get consumed by the wrong kind of love.
7 days to allow a man to inspire me again.
Will Hercules be another chapter, I will fold neatly and tuck away?
I don’t know…
But I do know I will enjoy the ride while it lasts, figuratively and physically.
So, tonight I’m in bed. In my own bed. I don’t need the TV noises; I’m looking for quiet.
Tonight, I’m in bed because it’s quieter in my head than anywhere else.
Tonight, I’m truly happy with Demo.
You did it.
I’ve lived, loved, and lost.
Tonight, I will enjoy my cold bed.
Because to be alone and cold but truly happy is a wonderful thing.
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