Dead Flowers

Once again I've fallen behind, thinking I had something to write about, coming on here, where I haven't been in too long, to find two forgotten drafts just sitting there, looking accusatory. I had another dream I wanted to work out, about the ex going to work for year on a space station, and the boy, and some miltary overtones, and the BF with the lowdown, and the 7 year old driving the car down the highway while I chatted on the cell phone...weird stuff, to be sure. There was also an update-in-the-making on my face, and the general state of my health, with some wonderings on how much to spill about my legal battle...I deleted both of them. I was in a car accident the day I woke up from that dream, on my way to a festival, with two passengers in the car, one of whom was my child. No one was badly injured, thank goodness, but the driver's side door is smashed in and unusable (including the window), my insurance won't cover the damage, and I've been climbing in and out through the passenger side with my sore left butt cheek, lower back and neck for almost two weeks now. Yaay. I must have thrown those drafts down before I left to go to the festival...

That's not what I came here to get down. I came to the page to talk about love. Or rather, to gripe and whine about my lack of it. In the wake of everything that's been dragging me down (the legal battle/inability to get a lawyer, the eviction/moving process, the car crash/lack of funds to fix the damage), several people I know have announced to the world their choice to marry. Good for them. Really. I'm happy they've found love - in some cases for the second time, after the death of a previous spouse. Mazal tov. I, on the other hand, have not even managed to marry once. The longest relationship I managed was only 4 1/2 years long, 5 if you count the sex we continued to have after we technically broke up, and no longer cohabitated...

I'm alone, and I'm lonely. There are those who say, "you have your son", which is true, but the company of a 7 year old boy is not the company of another adult who has chosen to spend his time with me, building a relationship and a life together, based on love.  The kid has no choice - he's stuck with me, for better or worse, until the day he decides to leave my house (for greener pastures, I pray with all my heart).  At this point, I believe I've missed any and all opportunity to find any kind of sustainable relationship, and I suppose I'm mourning that loss.  I hardly have any friends that care to spend any time with me, and I go for weeks without any sort of adult interaction - let's not even get into the last time I had a night out, or even had more than a few hours away from the boy at all.  I miss my life - the one where I could get up and go anywhere at the drop of anything...

So what does that have to do with love?  Frankly, I don't know either.  I just know that rather than rejoicing for those who have found it, I am angry and bitter at my lack thereof standing out in stark contrast.  I love my son more than any goddamned thing, and I even find a way to continue to love his father.  I love some of my friends, though they hardly deserve it.  And I love my really good tried and true friends, the ones I call my 'ride or die' friends forever and always, no matter what.  Which one are you?

I'm really tired, there's too much on my plate, and just when I think I can't take any more, more gets piled on somehow anyway...and I must rise again.  Maybe one of these days, I'll learn to just stay down.  The Universe has been trying to kill me since the day I was born, and I suppose I must be a cockroach, or I'd be dead, right?  Only the good die young?  My purpose here has not been fulfilled?  Whatever is up, I have a small person to get on the school bus tomorrow, and a heapload of shit to deal with before it brings him back home.  Home.  A place I've never been, but I keep trying to figure out what it might look like, and build a reasonably good facsimile of it wherever our stuff happens to be.  I wonder where our stuff will land next?

Interesting how when I started this blog, my subject matter was 'the guy, the BF, the kid and the garden', with a bit about work thrown in as well.  Now it's 'the lawsuit, the housing, the car, and my lack of regular orgasm'.  Fascinating.  I'll have to look into that, as soon as I can get past the nightmares of being chased through the Monsey house by my 'mother' who is attempting to murder me, while I make every effort to protect my son and my youngest niece from her rampaging...I tell you, I'm right on the edge.  Dangerously.