The Lonely Lesbie

I hoped I would miss you, less and less over time.

It’s been two years.

Two years since I’ve seen you or heard your voice.

I did all I could, to get you out of my system.

It worked, for a bit.

But then, I had a moment.

And I text you.

Desperate, for even one of your, one worded responses.

I think of the good.

The weekend get aways to “The Room”

The road trips.

To Virginia, Pennsylvania. Martha’s Vineyard.

And the, not so good.

Him. Us and him again.

Still, I love you, as much as I did, the first time I met you.

Because, Whatever we were,

You were always, straight with me.

I miss you, immensely.

Yvette

When does it end?

How long will this be? I miss you so much, I’m finding it difficult, to think about anything but you. I know (among other reasons) why.

I woke up, having had, dreamt about you.

You were a mix of two maybe three people, I found attractive. You of course being,

the primary one.

[we were intimately compatible, from beginning to end]

My dream the reminder, the reason, I can’t focus on anything else.

And why not? We were together,  for fifteen years.

And your birthday just past in January.

Another next month. March.

The other reminder that, someone else I love and miss, is also out of my life.

Something, I never imagined.

All of me hurts, this time of year.

When I love,

I love, All of You.

Yvette

Fifteen years

I never wanted my fifteen year relationship to end. I would still be in it, had I not start loving myself. I appreciate the benefits of both, a relationship and being single.

It’ll be two years, the sixth of this month. The day I decided to engross myself, into something, that would take my mind off of you.

Two years later, I’m healthier (for the most part) confirming that, that

was the right decision.

But still, I miss you. And love you, as much as I did, the first time I met you.

I think of you, when I see couples.

Or Singles.

And why wouldn’t this be?

It was thirty years ago, that we met.

[You didn’t know it, but it was then that, I had a crush on you]

We would meet again, in fifteen years.

And it wasn’t until today, I realized.

Fifteen years (two years ago) marked the anniversary of our “Involvement.”

And the ending of it.

I regret neither.

I just wish I could stop, thinking about you.

And wanting you.

I know it will take time.

I just hope it doesn’t take

fifteen years!

For the first time in my life

For the first time in my life, I feel comfortable in my skin.

All my life I said, I was comfortable, with who I was.

But it wasn’t until this very moment, that I realized,

that I was never, really me.

Rape never really allowed me, to be me.

Rape forced me to hide behind, a masculine facade.

I used to mimic my dads walk. [Atleast I did, in my head]

It forced me into a lifestyle, I don’t know that, I would have chosen.

Rape has effected every part of my life. It’s the source of my PTSD diagnosis, my depression…bipolar.

The reason, at age 12, I attempted suicide, started cutting myself and did more things,

you weren’t supposed to do, before age 21….yep, that too!

I talk about this because I must.

We have to PREVENT this from continuing!

[How many of you, are reading this now, who have been affected in the same way, suffer with mental illness and have had some kind of drug or alcohol addiction, like me?]

I was born to a mentally ill mother, who was born to, a mentally ill mother.

[I don’t know how you get someone, who has mental illness, to get help, if they don’t recognize that they’re ill. My mother and I both sought treatment.

[And how do you protect children, from a parent, with mentals illnesses?]

[I can’t remember the name of the couple, that attended to our wounds during the abuse. But the husband reminded me of Fred, from the, I Love Lucy show. It seems I may have called him, Uncle Paul. And I remember his wife being, Wilma like, from The Flintstones]

I associate a lot of things with, TV, radio characters. Does anybody else?

There was history of alcoholism. On both sides.

Mother, father.

Both mothers, child abusers.

I won’t tell you all the things, that led up to me getting raped.

But, once I was awaken as a child, by a gray haired old man, hovering over me, in his boxers.

Another time, awaken to an adult molesting me.

A year later,  raped.

[be careful, who you choose to live with, when you have children]

I drank and smoked with my mother…..yep, that too!

As a child, I wasn’t verbal. I acted out. I got angry, I walked.

[I wrote down my feelings. How is someone expressing themselves to you?]

Rape, had me not writing, not even the word.

Nobody talks about it.

The media treats it, as a blurp.

Hollywood profits off it.

[Makes me wonder, how many of them picture makers, are rapist]

Nobody talks about it, because it’s a nasty, filthy, inhumane act.

We each had different circumstances.

I recently heard, a Dick Gregory quote,

“Stay woke”

Again, For the first time in my life, I feel feminine and comfortable in my body.

For the first time, in my life, I feel like a woman!

Note: I’m a bit manic. I sometimes change topics. But, will share, when I feel it is important.

Peace