flower bits

I was looking through my magic bag–I took out all of the materials.  Two rings are sewed in.  There’s a special smooth rock I love with inclusions, a small rock from the grave place of my ancestors, two other small significant rocks pertaining to my mom and the health of my blood.  Sadly I looked at the flower bits I kept from the flowers given to me by the man I loved.  He had them delivered to me, last January for my mom’s death anniversary.

I pulled them out of the pouch and took a picture.  You can see a rose petal and part of the lily, including an anther.

clean up

The flower bits should have been removed from the magic bag months ago–alas.  But it’s never too late to clean up.

I cried and remembered how I felt about the flowers when they arrived.  I was overwhelmed, like I would pass out and just lie on the kitchen floor for a while.  Yes, I read the card and swooned.  The joy in my body was shot through with fear.  Intense joy and intense fear were mingled in equal measure.  The feeling was like, “Oh my god.  This man I adore and worship loves me too.  This is exactly what I wanted.  What the fuck am I going to do?”

To finally get what I most wanted was terrifying.  Kind of like suddenly realizing you married the king of the underworld.  Wow–ok.  Yes, he’s charming and very very powerful.  But there are some issues also!  Or more like marrying chaos.  Yes, he can do anything.  But holy shit.  My life is now deeply, deeply connected to a force of immeasurable disruption, dysregulation, irresponsibility, and instability itself.

I was like, holy shit.  I need all the insurance, stat!  But nothing could protect me from heartbreak and my own poor choices.  “Be careful what you wish for,” is creepy because it’s true.

red roses

The red roses were the part of the flower bouquet communicating more than words that I was finally loved back in full measure.  Now I know it was just a misunderstanding.  He was on the flower website and said, “Oh, those are pretty,” and clicked thoughtlessly.  The message I received wasn’t placed there–I made a mistake.

What a two days those were though, when I believed he loved me back.  I had no idea it would be terrifying.  Brilliantly, I knew that being close to him and joining my life to his would be destructive.

I found that to be true when he was here and hurt me very badly his first full day here.  Giving me what I most wanted and taking it away the next day was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me.  All the teenage boys who treated me like that, I didn’t really know.  This man I gave my heart and spirit and everything to, for more than a year.  He knew me through and through.  It didn’t matter–I was not worth loving and cherishing.  I was trash to discard.

flower bits

Cleaning out my life is a process, and making better choices is work.  It would be so easy to slip back into a struggle that’s familiar.  But I choose to move on and do my life’s work, which is not sacrificing my well-being for questionable artists who are just fucking around.  I have other things to do!

After photographing the flower bits, I was talking in my head to the man I loved.  “You fucking asshole.  You ruined everything,” I was chanting in my head.

Yes, I was ready to give–he was ready to take.  It could have been amazing, but his fuckery made a joyful family together impossible.  That was all his choice: to use and reject me, ignore my questions, not communicate, take without giving, do almost zero emotional labor, and all around enjoy the fruits of what I offered while reciprocating almost nothing and doing pretty much jack shit.

The flowers were what he gave, but paying $50 and writing two sentences for the card was really not much.  I believed they were evidence of love.  What were they?  A whim–a prop in the confusion.  Some poop from the wild goose I was chasing.

be soil

Chanting in my head, I took the flower bits outside.  I ripped the lily parts off the tape they were stuck to, and I threw the flower bits into the garden.

Be soil–be energy.  Bless the life to come.  I won’t cling to symbols that meant everything to me and nothing to this sacred man stupidly adored.  I choose freedom over being tied to charming harm.

Please let go of what you need to let go of.  Thank you for caring for yourself and not sacrificing yourself for anyone.  You have work to do, on earth.  Mother God called you into a body for a reason.  This human birth is a blessing.  Don’t waste your life on people who hurt you and should know better.  Some ignorance is a choice, and don’t “he’s doing his best” yourself to death.

Just because your heart is good and you’re doing your best doesn’t mean everyone is like you.  Some people aren’t doing their best.