Thank U

Thank U for chronicling my journey to self-acceptance

This feels like as appropriate a song as any to mark the day that I decided to peace out this blog:

How 'bout getting off of these antibiotics
How 'bout stopping eating when I'm full up
How 'bout them transparent dangling carrots
How 'bout that ever elusive could have

How 'bout retiring this blog after 10 years? I think it's time.

For me it's never really been about having readers, more just a space in which to express myself, and to delight in my love of music and the messages I get through the lyrics that run through my head.

Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you, thank you silence

Yes, thank you silence. You were frightening and elusive and now you're just plain delicious.

How 'bout me not blaming you for everything
How 'bout me enjoying the moment for once
How 'bout how good it feels to finally forgive you
How 'bout grieving it all one at a time

Yep, I reckon I've grappled with all of those how 'bouts in these pages over the years: blame, presence, forgiveness, grief...

The moment I let go of it
Was the moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it
Was the moment I touched down

And I've wrestled with letting go here in this blog a time or two as well.

How 'bout no longer being masochistic
How 'bout remembering your divinity
How 'bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How 'bout not equating death with stopping

I've never really been masochistic and I don't equate death with stopping. I've been at a level of mastery on bawling my eyes out unabashedly for years now -- remembering my divinity has been a longer journey.

In fact, it's a journey I'm still traversing, and I can honestly say that in ten years of marking my days with music, I've remembered it a lot more clearly...

Thank you... 😍

Darling Nikki

Another tricky thing to navigate after a breakup is the loss of sexy naked time, and boy, did the New Englander and I have some sexy naked time!

People navigate this in all kinds of ways, masturbation, casual sex... Me, I'm down with the first, and have had my share of the second, but I'm not feeling like it's the way to go at the ripe old age of 48.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking about this part of our relationship, which then leads me down a path of asking myself how we could've messed up something so good? And THAT doesn't lead anywhere productive, because it tends not to include thinking about the crappy parts of our relationship that ultimately led us to the breaking point.

So what's a girl to do? I'm trying out a new strategy I learned where you name the different voices in your brain so you can better recognize when your brain is tricking you or leading you astray.

I named the part of my brain that is fixated on sex... what else? Nikki:

I knew a girl named Nikki
I guess you could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said how'd you like to waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little Nikki grind

She took me to her castle
And I just couldn't believe my eyes
She had so many devices
Everything that money could buy
She said sign your name on the dotted line
The lights went out
And Nikki started to grind

Nikki

The castle started spinning
Or maybe it was my brain
I can't tell you what she did to me
But my body will never be the same
Her lovin' will kick your behind
Oh, she'll show you no mercy
But she'll sho'nuff sho'nuff show you how to grind

Darlin' Nikki

Woke up the next morning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over and all I found
Was a phone number on the stairs
It said thank you for a funky time
Call me up whenever you want to grind

Oh, Nikki, ohhhh

Come back Nikki, come back
Your dirty little Prince
Wanna grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind

Uh-huh. Don't we all.

But for tonight, we'll have to make do with some great music, including this not-quite-as-good but kinda fun cover by the Foo Fighters...

So Long, Marianne

During an episode of This is Us tonight, they played this beautiful song and talked about how Leonard Cohen had written it for his ex-girlfriend, with whom he remains friends:

Come over to the window, my little darling,
I'd like to try to read your palm.
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
before I let you take me home.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.

The New Englander and I don't quite laugh and cry about it all again, but we did laugh together again, and show up for what's happening in each other's lives. It's still hard for both of us to understand how we unraveled, and it sounds like this is a bit of a mystery for Leonard and Marianne too:

Well you know that I love to live with you,
but you make me forget so very much.
I forget to pray for the angels
and then the angels forget to pray for us.

Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...

We met when we were almost young
deep in the green lilac park.
You held on to me like I was a crucifix,
as we went kneeling through the dark.

Almost young, I like that phrase - -I'm not sure if the New Englander and I would qualify, at 39 and 44 when we met. I sho can relate to holding on to him like a crucifix, though - there was definitely, I think for both of us, a feeling of being saved by the love we shared.

Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...

Your letters they all say that you're beside me now.
Then why do I feel alone?
I'm standing on a ledge and your fine spider web
is fastening my ankle to a stone.

It's hard getting on after a breakup, and sometimes it does feel lonely, and as though the hold my former lover has is weighing me down.

Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...

For now I need your hidden love.
I'm cold as a new razor blade.
You left when I told you I was curious,
I never said that I was brave.

I am brave, or I wouldn't have been able to end things in the first place, but sometimes, sometimes I don't feel all that brave. Sometimes I just plain miss him.

Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...

Oh, you are really such a pretty one.
I see you've gone and changed your name again.
And just when I climbed this whole mountainside,
to wash my eyelids in the rain!

I'm with you there, Leonard, my eyelids get lots of washing, rain and shine!

Oh so long, New Englander, it's time that we began...

If I Can't Change Your Mind

I asked the cards how to be with my ex

It was a no TV Saturday for me, so I was pumping Spotify through my Wonderboom in the kitchen when this magical number began to fill the air:

Tears fill up my eyes
I'm washed away with sorrow
And somewhere in my mind
I know there's no tomorrow
I see you're leaving soon
I guess you've had your fill
But if I can't change your mind
Then no one will

And all throughout the years
I've never strayed from you my dear
But you suspect I'm somewhere else
You're feeling sorry for yourself
Leaving with a broken heart
I love you even still
But if I can't change your mind
Then no one will

Even though my heart keeps breaking
Don't you know that I'll be waiting
Here for you
Then when you return
When will you return
I hope you see I'm dedicated
Look how long that I have waited
If you come back then you will find
A different person
If you change your mind

How can I explain away
Something that I haven't done
And if you can't trust me now
You'll never trust in anyone
With all the crazy doubts you've got
I love you even still
But if I can't change your mind
Then no one will

Someday you'll see I've been true
I'll stay that way until
But if I can't change your mind
Then no one will

I know the pain of which he sings, though the end of my romance with the New Englander did not come as a result of not being able to change his mind, or me not changing mine.

I feel like I've been through lots of machinations over the 11 weeks since he moved out, starting with a deep sadness upon physical parting, moving on to a sense of relief that I wasn't still fighting the same battles and negotiating the same minefields it felt I'd been negotiating for months, then feeling like I was going to get to skip over the agony of a breakup because this just needed to happen, to where I've been the last few days, really showing up to the grief of having this wonderful person not turn out to be my person after all.

It's so hard to know what kind of relationship is best for us now and how it's going to work. Prior to tonight, we'd only had one real conversation since he moved back to New England. I found that first conversation difficult because it hurt to hear his voice and to have him call me babe, etc. even though I felt I'd been clear about the necessary shift to friendship.

After that I told myself I didn't want to talk to him, and toward the end of this week I realized that was coming from a place of self-protection. I was keeping him at arms length so I didn't have to feel that deep pain of which I spoke a couple paragraphs ago, but of course not feeling it didn't mean it wasn't there.

I asked the oracle (by drawing a card) what I needed to know about my relationship now with the New Englander and I drew the card you can see pictured above, which instructed me to practice devotion to those closest to me.

And even 1100 miles apart, he remains, as the lovely phone conversation we had tonight proved, one of those closest to me...

Outside

Future home of stickie notes to organize my book

The Universe is in alignment with me and my book project. Here are a couple of ways I know this to be true:

1) After a meeting with a colleague, I asked her about the huge boards she had leaning up in her office with stickie notes on them. I told her it would be great to have one to organize the different sections of my book, and she gave me one!

2) During the course of the conversation, I told her what my book was about. When I walked out of her office and into the stairwell, a woman ran after me to tell me that the experience I described of trying to piece together what happened in my childhood because I disassociated
from my body for three decades was the same experience she had. We went to lunch this week, and it was helpful to compare notes and support each other in the very difficult work of reintegration.

Today while I was putting away clothes in my room, a song came on Spotify about being on the outside looking in. I thought it was this one, turns out it wasn't, but it's still apropos of the conversation I had at lunch with my sister in healing:

And you
Can bring me to my knees
Again
All the times
That I could beg you please
In vain
All the times
That I felt insecure
For you
And I leave
My burdens at the door

But I'm on the outside
I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you

My lunchmate talked a lot about feeling this way, to the point of not wanting to do yoga in a studio with other people. She also talked about feeling that she had nothing left in her to do the work of healing from what she went through - like she wants to, for her kids, but she just kind of doesn't have it in her:

All the times
That I felt like this won't end
It's for you
And I taste
What I could never have
It was from you
All the times
That I've cried
My intentions
Full of pride
But I waste
More time than anyone

I know from my own experience that it takes a good deal of healing to get to the point where you feel you have the strength to take on the hard work of unlearning all that has held you back in this life -- these rockers, whoever they are (I've never heard of this band) - seem to know the feeling:

All the times
That I've cried
All this wasted
It's all inside
And I feel
All this pain
Stuffed it down
It's back again
And I lie
Here in bed
All alone
I can't mend
But I feel
Tomorrow will be okay

I know now that tomorrow is ok, but I remember a time when I wasn't sure about that, which is just one of the reasons I want to write this book...

Time of the Season

The snow adds an extra feature!

Mountain Biking stop number three on my Northwoods adventure: Levis Mound.

I'd never been, and was excited to go, but I was a little unsure when I got there to find it covered in snow. I've never tried mountain biking in snow before.

It. Was. So. Much. Fun!

Plus, it was 28 whole degrees, which felt quite warm compared to Cable.

This song started playing on the inner jukebox during my ride:

It's the time of the season
When the love runs high
In this time, give it to me easy
And let me try with pleasured hands

My Daddy studied ruffled grouse for his dissertation

To take you in the sun to (promised lands)
To show you every one
It's the time of the season for loving

In particular these next few lines were on repeat:

What's your name? (What’s your name?)
Who's your daddy? (Who's your daddy?)

I think because I feel connected to him in the woods, and these particular woods had a sign that particularly made me think of him.

(He rich?) Is he rich like me?
Has he taken (Has he taken)
Any time (Any time)
(To show) To show you what you need to live?

Tell it to me slowly (tell you what?)
I really want to know
It's the time of the season for loving

Happy girl!

What's your name? (What’s your name?)
Who's your daddy? (Who's your daddy?)
(He rich?) Is he rich like me?
Has he taken (Has he taken)
Any time (Any time)
(To show) To show you what you need to live?

Tell it to me slowly (tell you what?)
I really want to know
It's the time of the season for loving

Is it the time of the season for loving? I gotta say it kinda doesn't feel like it.

Unless it's the time of the season for loving myself, the great outdoors, and all the loves in my life, including my Dad and my ex-boyfriend, who contributed to the joy I felt riding today.

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

The view out my window at Lakewoods Nature Lodge

Yesterday I began my travels to the Northwoods for work. My day did not go like I thought it would: A slippery, slushy snow closed down one of the major highways and caused me to bail on my planned drive to Turtle Lake.

Instead, I went to the Baraboo library, conducted my meeting via Zoom, had some lunch, and then headed up to Cable.

It felt strange to visit the area where my parents cabin is and not go there, strange to go mountain biking without my ex-boyfriend, and strange to be at a resort when so few people are there. But I'm kinda used to my life feeling strange right now, so it didn't get me down.

No snow to speak of on the trails, but brrrrrrr!

The Lakewoods Nature Lodge wasn't half bad, either complete with a hot tub that came in especially handy after today's early morning, insanely cold (11 degrees) mountain bike ride on what I can imagine are extremely fun trails when it's not so frigid you lose feeling in your hands and feet in a matter of minutes!

Another highlight, and how this song came to be selected to mark this day, was watching a nature show that reminded me of my favorite nature show growing up: Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.

I mostly don't miss having a TV, but there's something about watching zebras and cheetahs in their natural habitat that really does it for me.

Especially when they use a classic song like this in the background while Zebras are cavorting:

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something

Hold your head up
Keep your head up, movin' on
Hold your head up, movin' on
Keep your head up, movin' on
Hold your head up, movin' on
Keep your head up, movin' on
Hold your head up, movin' on
Keep your head up

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I've traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's lookin' for something

I could use some Sweet Dreams -- here's hoping some come my way tonight...

This is the Last Time

Wow, that was a big weekend!

I had dreams/nightmares galore, along with a breakthrough in the writing of my book, which I am now sure is a memoir.

Going into the weekend, I had started it about 20 different times, so the workshop I signed up for was called "Great Beginnings." I also signed up to work one on one with a published author on a critique of a manuscript that I submitted ahead of time, and out of both experiences came an understanding of where my book needs to begin: with a scene from my childhood.

On Saturday night, I wrote that scene, and on Sunday in workshop, I shared it to a group of kind, compassionate, and helpful writers who helped me understand better how to convey what I want and need to convey.

Tonight, I revised the scene based on their feedback, and now I feel like I have a path forward for my book.

While writing today, I heard this song, and it seemed appropriate to mark this day, as I am hoping this is the last time I will write the beginning of my memoir:

This is the last time
That I will say these words
I remember the first time
The first of many lies
Sweep it into the corner
Or hide it under the bed
Say these things, they go away
But they never do

Something I wasn't sure of
But I was in the middle of
Something I forget now
But I've seen too little of

The last time
You fall on me for anything you like
Your one last line
You fall on me for anything you like
And years make everything alright
You fall on me for anything you like
And I, no, I don't mind

This is the last time
That I will show my face
One last tender lie and
Then I'm out of this place
Tread it into the carpet
Or hide it under the stairs
You say that some things never die
Well, I tried and I tried

Something I wasn't sure of
But I was in the middle of
Something I forget now
But I've seen too little of

The last time
You fall on me for anything you like
Your one last line
You fall on me for anything you like
And years make everything alright
You fall on me for anything you like
And I, no, I don't mind

The last time
You fall on me for anything you like
Your one last line
You fall on me for anything you like
And years make everything alright
You fall on me for anything you like
And I, no, I don't mind

I Don't Remember

Starting November off with snow on the ground!?!

Stepping out of my comfort zone this weekend, I signed up for a writing retreat.

I learned so much today, day one of three, including a genre that I didn't know existed: autobiographical fiction. It refers to a book that is primarily comprised of made up events and characters that may be based on the author's own experience and self.

When I signed up for this retreat, I was still trying to decide between writing a memoir and writing fiction. It's tricky to write a memoir, because it requires that you remember things from your past, and quite often, like my friend Peter Gabriel, I don't remember:

I got no means to show identification
I got no papers show you what I am
You'll have to take me just the way that you find me
What's gone is gone and I do not give a damn

Empty stomach, empty head
I got empty heart and empty bed
I don't remember
I don't remember

I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything, anything at all

Strange is your language and I have no decoder
Why don't you make your intentions clear
With eyes to the sun and your mouth to the soda
Saying, "Tell me the truth, you got nothing to fear"

Stop staring at me like a bird of prey
I'm all mixed up, I got nothing to say
I don't remember
I don't remember

I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything, anything at all

I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything at all
I don't remember, I don't recall
I got no memory of anything, absolutely anything at all

I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember
I don't remember

It's true. There are a lot of things I don't remember, but a lot that I do remember too, and I have a feeling that the process of writing will unearth some long dormant memories.

When I got home tonight, I wanted a giant glass of wine -- my first sign that I was triggered and did NOT want to feel whatever was trying to come through.

I don't have to do it tonight, but I am committed to standing up to these memories and putting them on the page so that they can help others who have gone through something similar to me...

Storybook Love

The New Englander and me in our early years together

There's no getting around it. I've been feeling sad these past few weeks.

I know that there is a period of adjustment after a breakup. I get that.

Something that is harder for me than normal life is returning home from a trip to an empty house. I've traveled twice this month, and the first time felt super hard, this time just hard.

It's not the loss of the physical body that I'm used to being next to that feels hard this time. It's the loss of the dream. The loss of the partner I thought I had. The loss of the life I thought we were going to share. The loss of the plan for our future. All of it gone.

This song was on a TV show I was watching tonight, and it made me sob like a baby:

Come my love, I'll tell you a tale
of a boy and girl and their love story
and how he loved her oh, so much,
and all the charms she did possess.

Now this did happen once upon a time
When things were not so complex.
And how he worshipped the ground she walked on.
When he looked in her eyes, he became obsessed.

My love is like a storybook story.
But it's as real as the feelings I feel.
My love is like a storybook story.
But it's as real as the feelings I feel;
it's as real as the feelings I feel

This love was stronger than the powers so dark,
A prince could have within his keeping;
His spells to weave and steal a heart
Within her breast, but only sleeping.

My love is like a storybook story.
But it's as real as the feelings I feel.
My love is like a storybook story.
But it's as real as the feelings I feel;
it's as real as the feelings I feel

He said, "Don't you know I love you oh, so much,
And lay my heart at the foot of your dress?"
She said, "Don't you know that storybook loves
Always have a happy ending?"

Then he swooped her up, just like in the books,
And on his stallion they rode away.

My love is like a storybook story.
But it's as real as the feelings I feel.
My love is like a storybook story.
But it's as real as the feelings I feel;
it's as real as the feelings I feel

Correction. My love was like a storybook story. It was as real as the feelings I felt.

Now, along with the gorgeously hued leaves on the trees, all of that is falling away, and dying...

Do You Sleep?

Do you eat, sleep, do you breathe me anymore?
Do you sleep, do you count sheep anymore?
Do you sleep anymore?

I do, Lisa Loeb and Nine Stories, thanks for asking. And when I do, apropos of how it seems you were feeling when you wrote this song, I sometimes, as I did last night, dream of being with my now ex as if we were still together.

Lemme tell you, this makes for a challenging wake-up, a challenging feeling rolling out of bed, and tears at the ready for the better part of the morning as I come back to the reality that it is over.

And now, back to Lisa:

Do you take plight on my tongue like lead?
Do you fall gracefully into bed anymore?
I saw you as you walked across my room.
You looked out the window, you looked at the moon.
And you sat on the corner of my bed, and
you smoked with the ghost in the back of my head.
And I don't know, and I don't care
If I ever will see you again.
I don't know, and I don't care
If I ever will be there.
Do you eat, sleep, do you breathe me anymore?
Do you sleep, do you keep me anymore?
You kick my foot under the table,
I kick you back;
I can't say I'm able to
Stand for you or
Fall for you ever again.
Wish for a perfect setting?
Wishing that I am letting you
Take me where you want me
All over again?
You can't give yourself absolutely to someone else.
And I don't know, and I don't care
If I ever will see you again.
I don't know, and I don't care
If I ever will be there.
I saw you as you walked across my room.
You looked out the window, you looked at the moon.
And you sat on the corner of my bed, and
You smoked with the ghost in the back of my head.
Do you eat, sleep, do you breathe me anymore?
Do you sleep, do you count sheep anymore?
Do you sleep anymore?
I don't know, and I don't care
If I ever will be there.

This Old Man

I keep this photo next to my bed - I'm about 4 years old here

God knows what's going on with my subconscious, but I'm up in the wee hours with this song from my childhood on repeat:

This old man, he plays one
He plays knick knack on my thumb
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays two
He plays knick knack on my shoe
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays three
He plays knick knack on my knee
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays four
He plays knick knack on my door
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays five
Don't play knick knack on that hive
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays six
He plays knick knack on my sticks
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays seven
He plays knick knack up in heaven
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays eight
He plays knick knack on my gate
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays nine
He plays knick knack on my vine
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays ten
He plays knick knack all over again
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

Strange. Can't really explain it, other than that two days ago I did a guided meditation where people from your childhood who you need to forgive or who need to forgive you show up. The people who showed up for me were not the ones I'd have expected. Not my sister or any of my close friends, but other kids from my neighborhood and/or elementary school.

My lower back really hurts too - another reason for the early morning wakeup, and also pain that can be connected to the inner child.

I love you little Sarah, now go back to sleep please!

September

This is one of those songs that I never really knew the words to, though I've heard it on and off over the past few decades:

Do you remember the 21st night of September?
Love was changin' the minds of pretenders
While chasin' the clouds away
Our hearts were ringin' in the key that our souls were singin'
As we danced in the night, remember
How the stars stole the night away, oh yeah

Hey, hey, hey!
Ba-dee-ya, say, do you remember?
Ba-dee-ya, dancin' in September
Ba-dee-ya, never was a cloudy day

Ba-du-da, ba-du-da, ba-du-da, ba-du
Ba-du-da, ba-du, ba-du-da, ba-du
Ba-du-da, ba-du, ba-du-da

My thoughts are with you, holdin' hands with your heart to see you
Only blue talk and love, remember
How we knew love was here to stay
Now December, found the love that we shared in September
Only blue talk and love, remember, the true love we share today

Hey, hey, hey!
Ba-dee-ya, say, do you remember?
Ba-dee-ya, dancin' in September
Ba-dee-ya, never was a cloudy day
There was a…
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), say, do you remember?
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), dancin' in September
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), golden dreams were shiny days

The bell was ringin', oh, oh
Our souls were singin'
Do you remember never a cloudy day? Yow

There was a
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), say, do you remember?
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), dancin' in September
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), never was a cloudy day
And we'll say
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), say, do you remember?
Ba-dee-ya (Dee-ya, dee-ya), dancin' in September
Ba-dee-ya (Dee ya, dee-ya), golden dreams were shiny days

I never even knew it was called September, and I definitely cannot say, on this, the last day of September 2019, that this was my experience of this month.

So many of the days were clouded with the difficult feelings that have come up as I face the fact that a romantic relationship I hoped would be my last is now another space of learning and growing that I am left to do alone.

I know that it won't always be this way, but it's gonna take a while for me to feel peace about the way things are, and even longer before dancin', golden dreams, and shiny days are here again...

The Promise

Listening to Spotify on my Wonderboom on a rainy Sunday, and what to my wondering ears should appear but this gorgeous number:

If you wait for me
Then I'll come for you
Although I've traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart

If you think of me
If you miss me once in awhile
Then I'll return to you
I'll return and fill that space in your heart

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting

If you dream of me
Like I dream of you
In a place that's warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting

I've longed for you
And I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are

Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
Please say you'll be waiting

Together again
It would feel so good to be
In your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise
If it's one that you can keep
I vow to come for you
If you wait for me

And say you'll hold
A place for me
In your heart

A place for me in your heart
A place for me in your heart
A place for me in your heart

I have no doubt there is a place for me in the New Englander's heart, and for him in mine. There will always be a place.

For me though, it's not about waiting, or contemplating getting back together.

It's about me doing the work of forgiveness, to face the gargantuan disappointment I feel about our romantic relationship ending and the reasons for that, and becoming willing to let that go.

I'm not ready yet, but I am doing the work, and I will get there...

Sea Fog

The beloved firstborn on the day of departure

This summer was a lot of things. It was awesome having my son home from college in Seattle. The weather, for the most part, was glorious, and we had an amazing family adventure.

It also included a big loss, when The New Englander and I broke up, and now I'm faced with another one: My son heading back to school.

I don't know if it will ever get easier to leave his company. It's just such a nice place to be, and it doesn't help that I am ready to make my cross-country move too. Only, I'm not. I've got two more years here.

So I took myself to hot yoga yesterday afternoon, for the first time in a long time, and this was the song the teacher sang to us in savasana:

The sun bleeds in, hear the magpie sing for sorrow
It makes things better
Maybe we'll get to spread our wings tomorrow
If luck will let us

Can anyone fly into these grey skies?
Is there somewhere I'm meant to be

Off he goes!

Sea fog comes, like a river rolls a stone
It's rolling me

I missed my turn in the dark
I hear your voice
It makes things easy
I strayed too far from the road
Wish you could always make things easy

And I won't fight through the rising tide
If that’s the way it has to be

Sea fog comes, like a river rolls a stone
It's rolling me
Sea fog comes, like a river rolls a stone
It's rolling me

Sea fog rolling
Sea fog rolling
Sea fog rolling

Which felt apropos for today in a couple of ways -- my son is indeed spreading his wings today, and he's headed back to the land where sea fog rolling is a daily occurrence rather than an obscure reference in a song lyric...

Kind and Generous

Going to work this morning felt hard, as did getting up for practice. I don't seem to have as much energy as I would like, or as I need.

I've been using one of my decks a couple of times a day to guide me extra during this period of transition, and this morning's card was kindness.

This made me more awake to kindness when I encountered it, which I did in at least two forms:

1) Nature's gifts - the beautiful sunny day, squirrels chasing each other up and down a huge tree, owls (my favorite) hooting on my walk, a bat in the park as I did my pre-pullup exercises (#goals); and

2) Spotify dialed up this kind and generous number:

You've been so kind and generous
I don't know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I'm in debt to you
For your selflessness, my admiration
And for everything you've done
You know I'm bound
I'm bound to thank you for it

You've been so kind and generous
I don't know how you keep on giving
For your kindness i'm in debt to you
And i never could have come this far without you
So for everything you've done
You know I'm bound
I'm bound to thank you for it

I want to thank you
For so many gifts
You gave with love and tenderness
I want to thank you
I want to thank you
For your generosity
The love and the honesty
That you gave me
I want to thank you
Show my gratitude
My love and my respect for you
I want to thank you
I want to

Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
I want to
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you

Thanks, Universe!

The Beautiful Ones

My kids took turns reading Dr. Suess to their former nanny's kid

We had the pleasure of hosting our former nanny and her kids this weekend.

It's so great to see my (mostly) grown up kids with her little kids, and for me to get to spend time with her now that we're both mamas instead of a mama and a college student.

Madison showed off for us, and we got to enjoy a beautiful day with the morning and early afternoon spent at the Farmer's Market.

Evening brought story time for the little kids and then games for the big kids and grown ups.

Acro with a three-year old makes me smile!

And now, with our friends back in Chicago and my kids back at their Dad's, I'm getting to enjoy a little quality time at home with some New Yorker magazines.

That's where the inspiration for today's song comes from -- a personal history from a guy Prince hired to write his autobiography.

Unfortunately, Prince died before he could get very many of his stories on paper.

Please, oh please, don't let that happen to me.

In the meantime, some entertainment from the brilliant and beautiful man himself:

High on diesel and gasoline
Psycho for drum machine
Shaking their bits to the hits, oh oh

The beautiful ones with our beautiful Capitol

Drag acts, drug acts, suicides
In your dad's suits you hide
Staining his name again

Cracked up, stacked up, 22
Psycho for sex and glue
Lost it to Bostik, yeah
Shaved heads, rave heads, on the pill
Got too much time to kill
Get into bands and gangs, oh

Here they come
The beautiful ones
The beautiful ones
La la la la
Here they come
The beautiful ones
The beautiful ones
La la la la la

La la, loved up, doved up, hung around
Stoned in a lonely town
Shaking their meat to the beat
High on diesel and gasoline
Psycho for drum machine
Shaking their bits to the hits, oh

Here they come
The beautiful ones
The beautiful ones
La la la la
Here they come
The beautiful ones
The beautiful ones

You don't think about it
You don't do without it
Because you're beautiful
And if your baby's going crazy
That's how you made me, la la
And if your baby's going crazy
That's how you made me, woh oh
And if your baby's going crazy
That's how you made me
La la la la la

The River

Panorama of the Mississippi River as seen from my friend's Dad's boat

When I told my friend about my breakup, she decided that a trip to Iowa and a stay at her parent's home on the Mississippi River would be just what the Dr. ordered. I had a whole week (and a day) off of work, so I figured I might as well spend some of it on a little getaway.

It did feel good to get away. To swim in the river. To be among good people. To sleep. To write.

And of course, to listen to the boss:

I come from down in the valley
Where, mister, when you're young
They bring you up to do like your daddy done
Me and Mary we met in high school
When she was just seventeen
We'd ride out of this valley down to where the fields were green

We'd go down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh, down to the river we'd ride

Then I got Mary pregnant
And man, that was all she wrote
And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat

Me at the helm

We went down to the courthouse
And the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles, no walk down the aisle
No flowers, no wedding dress

That night we went down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh, down to the river we did ride
Ah-yah

I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company
But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well, mister, they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember
Mary acts like she don't care

But I remember us riding in my brother's car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I'd lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
They haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don't come true
Or is it something worse

That sends me down to the river
Though I know the river is dry
That sends me down to the river tonight
Ah-yah-yah
Down to the river
My baby and I
Oh, down to the river we ride
Ah-yah-ay

Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh

There were moments on the trip where I'd go back to my room and burst into tears. There were was a moment when I got home when the same thing happened.

It's all good. Not easy, but part of the grieving process...

Joshua Tree

This handsome mug had my heart for most of a decade

I bought myself a speaker. I've been listening to music on it, rather than watching TV on my computer. This is just one of the ways the New Englander influenced my life in a positive way.

It's strange to be here in this house without him or any of his stuff today. All that room in the garage, in the bed.

I'll get used to it. I know I will. I'll even relish it.

And yet, there will always be times when I see a photo, whether on my phone or in my mind, of a time and a place and a love we shared, and it will tug at my heartstrings and knowing me, send some tears down my face.

One of the songs that came on today expresses this sentiment beautifully:

I'm selfish
I always made your problems 'bout me
I can't help it
I wish I had a little empathy for ya
But that night that you told me
That I don't work hard enough
Told me I cracked too much
Ripped me to pieces
And then called it love
Oh and I never handled it like I wanted to
What was I supposed to do?
Knowing that both of us had enough

But when you think of me
I hope you think of Joshua Tree
That summer, where the road went on forever
No end in sight for us
When you think of me
I hope you think of the letters that I sent ya
From across town, just 'cause I missed ya
When the worst was yet to come
And you know I do, when I think of you
Yeah you know I do, when I think of you

You're careless
Always saying things you didn't mean
Took me for granted
Expecting me to find the in-between
But that night that I told you that I wouldn't marry you
Swear I could feel from the floor to the ceiling
Your walls came up
So then I pulled you closer, and you pushed me further
And nothing would matter
We kept getting sadder
And called it love

But when you think of me
I hope you think of Joshua Tree
That summer, where the road went on forever
No end in sight for us
When you think of me
I hope you think of the letters that I sent ya
From across town, just 'cause I missed ya
When the worst was yet to come
'Cause you know I do, when I think of you
Yeah you know I do, when I think of you

I think of New Year's in San Fransisco
Drunk on my roof looking at you
Wrapped up in your coat
So tell me, my dear
What do you think of?
Don't you remember why we fell in love?

Oh, when you think of me
I hope you think of Joshua Tree
That summer, where the road went on forever
No end in sight for us
When you think of me
I hope you think of the letters that I sent ya
From across town, just 'cause I missed ya
When the worst was yet to come
'Cause you know I do, when I think of you, oh baby
Yeah, you know I do, when I think of you
I think of you, I think of you, baby
Are you thinking 'bout me, baby?
I'm thinking 'bout ya

💔

Back Streets

My forever friend (I hope) leaves for NH

It was a day, in some ways, like many others. I made avocado toast. We sat outside on the back patio and ate it.

As this song wafted through the speakers, the New Englander explained how it had affected him when he was a youngster:

One soft infested summer
Me and Terry became friends
Trying in vain to breathe
The fire we was born in
Catching rides to the outskirts
Tying faith between our teeth
Sleeping in that old abandoned beach house
Getting wasted in the heat
And hiding on the backstreets
Hiding on the backstreets
With a love so hard and filled with defeat
Running for our lives at night on them backstreets

Slow dancing in the dark
On the beach at Stockton's Wing
Where desperate lovers park
We sat with the last of the Duke Street Kings
Huddled in our cars
Waiting for the bells that ring
In the deep heart of the night
We let loose of everything
To go running on the backstreets
Running on the backstreets
Terry you swore we'd live forever
Taking it on them backstreets together

Endless juke joints and Valentino drag
Where dancers scraped the tears
Up off the streets dressed down in rags
Running into the darkness
Some hurt bad some really dying
At night sometimes it seemed
You could hear the whole damn city crying
Blame it on the lies that killed us
Blame it on the truth that ran us down
You can blame it all on me Terry
It don't matter to me now
When the breakdown hit at midnight
There was nothing left to say
But I hated him
And I hated you when you went away

Now laying here in the dark
You're like an angel on my chest
Just another tramp of hearts
Crying tears of faithlessness
Remember all the movies, Terry
We'd go see
Trying to learn how to walk like the heroes
We thought we had to be
Well after all this time
To find we're just like all the rest
Stranded in the park
And forced to confess
To hiding on the backstreets
Hiding on the backstreets

Except it wasn't a day like many others. It was only kind of like one other day, June 26, 2013, when he moved back to NH the first time. And it wasn't even that much like that.

The feeling was really different this time. The feeling was saying goodbye to the two of us as lovers, to bowing in gratitude for what this time spent together in that way had done for us, and of moving on to a new phase.

We're not sure exactly how it'll work, but we're going to do our best to remember this day...

Where we swore forever friends
On the backstreets until the end

💕

Walk Me Home

Tonight the four of us went to see a movie, Peanut Butter Falcon. It was a big deal, in part because it's super rare that we can get them both to go to the same movie, and in part because it was our last dinner as a family -- at least until the New Englander returns in June 2021 for my daughter's high school graduation.

It was a beautiful evening. Beautiful movie, beautiful dinner, beautiful card and gift and love exchange.

Dinner at Cafe Porta Alba, one of our neighborhood faves

We've been so blessed over the last couple of years, plus the years prior to that when we've spent time with him, to have the New Englander in our family. He's added so much, and we all love him dearly.

So, one more time tonight, we'll do our version of what Pink sings about here -- Ride him home:

There's somethin' in the way you roll your eyes
Takes me back to a better time
When I saw everything is good
But now you're the only thing that's good
Tryna stand up on my own two feet
This conversation ain't coming easily
And darlin', I know it's getting late
So what do you say we leave this place?

Walk me home in the dead of night

So much love and goodness between these three!

I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm
So say you'll stay with me tonight
'Cause there is so much wrong goin' on outside

There's somethin' in the way I wanna cry
That makes me think we'll make it out alive
So come on and show me how we're good
I think that we could do some good, mhm

Walk me home in the dead of night
I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm
So say you'll stay with me tonight
'Cause there is so much wrong goin' on outside

Yes there is. But I feel confident we will be there for one another, even across the miles, because, like the Peanut Butter Falcon reminds us, friends are the family you choose...

Yours And Mine

I'm afraid of pain, both yours and mine, both yours and mine
I'm afraid of pain, from where it comes and where it falls

Well I'm not, and it's a good thing too. So many endings are happening right now:

1) I taught my last yoga class at Pinnacle after 9 years on Tuesday;
2) My 9 year on again, off again relationship is ending on Friday; and
3) Orange is the New Black ended for good.

Of course, number two is by far the biggest deal, though not the origin of today's song. That's brought to you courtesy of OITNB:

Somebody lit the store on fire
Somebody lit the house on fire
Somebody lit the crowd on fire, marching away
And you've got nothing to say
And you've got nothing to say
Have you got nothing to say?

For those of you who told me I should stay indoors
Take care of you and yours, take care of you and yours
But me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
We've got a long way to go before we get home
'Cause this ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home

Somebody lit the store on fire
Somebody lit the house on fire
Somebody lit the crowd on fire, marching away
And you've got nothing to say
And you've got nothing to say
Have you got nothing to say?

For those of you who told me I should stay indoors
Take care of you and yours, take care of you and yours
But me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
We've got a long way to go before we get home
'Cause this ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home

Take care of you and yours
Take care of you and yours
Take care of you and yours
Take care of you and yours
But me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine (me and mine)
Me and mine

We've got a long way to go before we get home
'Cause this ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home anymore
This ain't my home anymore

I feel this. Deep inside I feel this. That my home was with the New Englander, and now it's ain't...

Good thing I trust that I have a home inside myself in which to reside - a safe, cozy, protected space - this is an especially good thing since I am also getting ready to sell my house.

Oof! So much transition...

Bad

Gonna miss this guy!

This gorgeous song was running through my head last night and this morning after a pillow-talk convo with the New Englander:

If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would let it go
Surrender, dislocate

If I could throw this lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay, see you walk, walk away
Into the night, and through the rain
Into the half light and through the flame

If I could, through myself, set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away, see you break, break away
Into the light and to the day

Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!

To let it go and so to fade away
To let it go and so fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake, wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh no, no, no

If you should ask, then maybe
They'd tell you what I would say
True colours fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colours crash, collide in blood-shot eyes

Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!
Hoo, hoo!

If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would let it go

Because, you see, if he could, I know he would. Make the changes that would make our lives together fulfilling and harmonious. I know he would.

But it doesn't work like that. That's the hard lesson I'm (we're?) learning.

And so we're going about our daily life, which feels almost normal, except for the fact that we are breaking up and he's packing up to move back to New Hampshire.

Which tells me we could've gone on like this forever, or at least a lot longer, allowing the good times to buoy us through the bad. But I feel certain that would be shortchanging both of us, and offering us less than the ease, peace, happiness and fulfillment that is available to each of us:

This desperation, dislocation
Separation, condemnation
Revelation, in temptation
Isolation, desolation
Let it go and so fade away
To let it go, oh yeah, and so fade away
To let it go, oh no, and so to fade away

Yeah U2, we two are gonna let the romance fade away. Here's hoping we can keep the friendship going.

In the meantime, your last few lines are true for me right now too:

I'm wide awake, I'm wide awake
Wide awake, I'm not sleeping
Oh no, no, no

Not for long, most nights these days. My system knows change is afoot...

Waiting For a Girl Like You

This morning I was riding my bike and my inner jukebox started up this number:

So long
I've been looking too hard
I've been waiting too long
Sometimes I don't know what I will find
I only know it's a matter of time
When you love someone
When you love someone

It feels so right, so warm and true
I need to know if you feel it too

Maybe I'm wrong
Won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong
This heart of mine has been hurt before
This time I wanna be sure

I've been waiting for a girl like you
To come into my life
I've been waiting for a girl like you
A love that will survive
I've been waiting for someone new
To make me feel alive
Yeah, waiting for a girl like you
To come into my life

You're so good
When we make love
It's understood
It's more than a touch or a word we say
Only in dreams could it be this way
When you love someone
Yeah, really love someone

Specifically, the first two lines of this verse was on repeat, and I belted it out as I rode:

Now I know it's right
From the moment I wake up 'til deep in the night

I also sobbbbbbbbbbbed.

Here's the thing though, I did know it was right. The fact that it is coming to an end does not mean that it wasn't right. It means it's not right anymore. That's hard, but somehow it is easier than feeling like what I thought I knew was true wasn't true, which is what I struggled with the last time we broke up.

This is another verse that gets played over and over in my head:

It feels so right, so warm and true
I need to know if you feel it too

I know he did/does.

And it's going to be really hard to give it up.

But I trust we are doing the right thing. I know that it is better to let go than hold on when something deep inside tells me that he's not the right forever partner for me:

This heart of mine has been hurt before
This time I wanna be sure...

Thunder Road

Enjoying the gorgeous Lake Michigan shoreline

My man (for a little bit longer) and I had the pleasure of going to Chicago this weekend to spend time with my cousin and his husband.

It's the good life with these guys -- snuggly puppies, good food, good company, beautiful city -- and this time, we even got to take in a great flick.

Blinded by the Light is my favorite movie I've seen in a long time. I wanted to watch it again as soon as it finished. I loved getting to see it with my cousin, too, the person in my family to whom I feel closest.

Doesn't hurt that it features the music of the brilliant, beautiful Bruce Springsteen.

Here's one of many numbers from the film, which was on repeat after the movie for several days:

The screen door slams, Mary's dress waves
Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey, that's me, and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside
Darling, you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty, but, hey, you're alright
Oh, and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a saviour to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero that's understood
All the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
Well the night's busting open
These two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back, heaven's waiting down on the tracks
Oh-oh come take my hand
We're riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh-oh Thunder Road oh Thunder Road oh Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey, I know it's late, we can make it if we run
Oh, Thunder Road, sit tight, take hold
Thunder Road

Well I got this guitar, and I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back if you're ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open but the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely for words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free, all the promises'll be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets

They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they're gone
On the wind, so Mary, climb in
It's a town full of losers
And I'm pulling out of here to win

Love this song, love this movie, love this city, love this life...

Maybe

I went to see a production of Annie this weekend, because my boss's daughter was cast as Annie. I was excited to see her perform and also to touch back to what was my favorite of all the plays/musicals that my parents took us to when we were kids. I remember going to Indianapolis to see it, absolutely loving it, and singing the songs for years afterward.

Watching the musical, I got particularly teared up when Annie sang this number:

Maybe far away
Or maybe real nearby
He may be pouring her coffee
She may be straighetning his tie
Maybe in a house
All hidden by a hill
She's sitting playing piano
He's sitting paying a bill

Betcha they're young
Betcha they're smart
Bet they collect things
Like ashtrays, and art

Betcha they're good
Why shouldn't they be?
Their one mistake
Was giving up me

So maybe now it's time,
And maybe when I wake
They'll be there calling me baby
Maybe

Betcha he reads
Betcha she sews
Maybe she's made me
A closet of clothes
Maybe they're strict
As straight as a line...
don't really care
As long as they're mine
So maybe now this prayer's
The last one of it's kind...
Won't you please come get your baby

I think the tears were from a little girl inside me that hoped someone would come and get me, or at least that my own parents would come to life and fully embody themselves, and love me like I needed and deserved to be loved...

Maybe

Free Man in Paris

Every once in a while, in the course of watching TV on Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon, I stumble upon a truly brilliant series. The latest example? Girls. That Lena Dunham! Hilarious, unabashed, edgy, and unafraid to confront hard issues.

Tonight's episode featured Lena digging into sexual assault, and she did SUCH a brilliant job with it. My boyfriend and I argued about it, because he wondered whether the man was really wrong to do what he did, and I felt it emphatically true that he was. There was an age difference and a power dynamic -- not a level playing field by any sense of the phrase.

Thank you, Lena, for making people squirm while watching this timeless, ubiquitous, and ultimately destructive practice unfold. This is necessary if, as a society, we're going to stop shaming and blaming victims while making excuses for perpetrators.

Speaking of heroes, the soundtrack to the episode tonight featured a gorgeous song from one of mine:

The way I see it he said
You just can't win it
Everybody's in it for their own gain
You can't please 'em all
There's always somebody calling you down
I do my best and I do good business
There's a lot of people asking for my time
They're trying to get ahead
They're trying to be a good friend of mine

I was a free man in Paris
I felt unfettered and alive
There was nobody calling me up for favours
And no one's future to decide
You know I'd go back there tomorrow
But for the work I've taken on
Stoking the star maker machinery
Behind the popular song

I deal in dreamers
And telephone screamers
Lately I wonder what I do it for
If l had my way
I'd just walk through those doors
And wander down the Champs Elysees
Going café to cabaret
Thinking how I'll feel when I find
That very good friend of mine

Just Between You and Me

These crazy kids met 9 years ago today

I'm not sure when it happened, exactly. I don't remember hearing this song recently:

Time and time again I see
A love that seemed strong was not meant to be
Broken hearts don't always mend
Left too unsure to try love again

But, just between you and me
Baby, I know our love will be
Just between you and me
Always I know our love will be
Just between you and me

Lovers often seem to say
Hearts can be blind to love gone astray
Always it's the same old song
Someone's been hurt by a love that's gone wrong

Just between you and me
Baby, I know our love will be
Just between you and me
Always I know our love will be
Just between you
Just between you and me

Words are sometimes hard to find
The silence can be so unkind
You always help me find my way
The love that we share grows stronger each day

Just between you and me
Baby, I know our love will be
Just between you and me
Always I know our love will be
Seulement entre toi et moi
Means that our love will always be
Just between you and me
Baby, I know our love will be
Just between you
Just between you and me

But I keep hearing it in my head.

And I'm finding it reassuring. Because even though we are splitting up, the love we shared will always be just between him and me...

Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

I was all excited when the new season of Big Little Lies was released. Love that show! Great writing, great acting, great setting, stylistically gorgeous... It's got it all.

The vow renewal on the beach was so freaking beautiful -- I just hope they, especially the Reese Witherspoon character, can live up to her promises. Seems like she's got a better shot this time around, having almost lost her husband after cheating on him.

But what do I know? I am definitely no expert on marriages or relationships with men in general.

I am, however, an expert in choosing songs to mark days, or in this case, seasons of TV shows, and this classic number wins hands down:

Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm
I know!
It's been comin' for sometime
When it's over, so they say
It'll rain on a sunny day

I know!
Shining down like water
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin' down on a sunny day?

Yesterday and days before
Sun is cold and rain is hard

I know!
Been that way for all my time
'Til forever on it goes

Through the circle fast and slow
I know!
It can't stop, I wonder
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin' down on a sunny day?

Yeah!
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin' down on a sunny day?

I have indeed...

Shattered Dreams

Darn, can't see the crazy eyebrows in this hot pic

The theme continues of this in-between place the New Englander and I are in and how freaking hard it is...

Tonight's installment:

During sex, this song came up on the inner ipod, right after I'd cried about how I wouldn't see his eyebrows turn all white and crazy as I'd expected I would:

So much for your promises
They died the day you let me go
Caught up in a web of lies
But it was just too late to know

I thought it was you
Who would stand by my side
And now you've given me, given me
Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams
Feel like I could run away, run away
From this empty heart

You said you'd die for me,
Woke up to reality
And found the future not so bright

I dreamt the impossible
That maybe things could work out right
I thought it was you
Who would do me no wrong

But now you've given me, given me
Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams
Feel like I could run away, run away
From this empty heart

To be fair, we've given each other shattered dreams.

And my heart, it's so far from empty -- it's full of gratitude for this love...

Best Part Of Me

My fam laughing nervously at my antics with the Buffalo

I'm not sure why, but google keeps suggesting I listen to certain songs. Did I somehow give the impression that I take requests for this blog? I dunno.

Here's today's selection:

My lungs are black, my heart is pure
My hands are scarred from nights before
And my hair is thinnin', falling out
Of all the wrong places
I am a little insecure

My eyes are crossed, but they're still blue
I bite my nails and tell the truth
I go from thin to overweight
Oh day to day it fluctuates
My skin is inked, but faded too

But she loves me, she loves me
Why the hell she love me
When she could have anyone else?
Oh you love me, you love me
Why the hell do you love me?
'Cause I don't even love myself

Baby, the best part of me is you
And lately everything's making sense too
Oh baby, I'm so in love with you

I overthink and still forgive
I lose my phone and place my bets
And I never catch the train on time
Always thirty minutes behind
Your worries ain't seen nothin' yet

But you love me, you love me
Why the hell you love me so
When you could have anyone else?
Yeah yeah, he loves me, he loves me
And I bet he never lets me go
And shows me ,how to love myself

'Cause, baby, the best part of me is you, woah
Lately everything's making sense too
Baby, I'm so in love with you
(With you)

Baby, the best part of me is you, woah
Lately everything's making sense too
Oh baby, I'm so in love with you

Baby, I'm so in love with you, yeah, yeah
Oh baby, I'm so in love with you

I'd never heard it before. It's pretty lovely, and part of it feels apropos of the situation in which my man and I find ourselves. Because one of the enemies of our harmony, though not the only one, was his sense that he wasn't deserving.

Anyway, on the subject of the best part of me, one of the reasons my kids and I are going to miss him so much is he is, in many ways, saner, more relaxed, funnier, and cooler than I am.

The photo above is a case in point -- when we were at Custer State Park, I wanted to get as close to the Buffalo as I could. I would've liked to give one a big ol' hug and kiss. I didn't, of course, because safety and wild animals and valuing my life. But I did get closer than my family, and closer than they were comfortable with...