Tag Archives: rejection

A Love Story. Part 2.

She kept his side of the bed open as if he might return. Made coffee every morning just as he instructed. Strong / solid / delicious. Enough for two. Listen for the change of pitch in the grinder. 2 teaspoons of ground coffee per cup in the french press. a tiny bit of coconut oil. 2 and half teaspoons of coconut sugar per cup… She dreamt of him. Cried for him. Coated her love for him in hatred. Drunk or praying, acting a fool or lighting candles. Went to 3 healers, 1 psychic, started A Course in Miracles, kundalini on Mondays. Singing would make the pain fade, transmute from gray to gold, to black then blue. Music her savior. How high is too high for an energetic fence? He wanted to build a fortress around her. To protect or to own?  Yet he wouldn’t claim what was his. He called her his queen but for his queen he would not fight. She doubted her worth only to find it again only to doubt it again. A shadow of a once phenomenal woman. Though she’s lost, she’s more than what they know. Multifaceted feminine energy. Complex nuances devoured mindlessly. Vulnerability. Cut wide open.  Even friends can claim you as pray in a tender moment. STOP.  He apologized later. Doesn’t make it right. It’s a shame you cannot unfuck someone. Then there was a sweetheart, teddy bear made her smile when she was drowning. Should’ve kept it on the homie tip just riding bikes and laughing, doing karaoke. It was just so nice to have someone CLAIM her, be proud of her, want to be around her all the time. But nothing healed the ache. Nothing would erase him. If it weren’t for the Earth angels/ sisters/ girlfriends / heroes she might never have gotten up off the floor.. I feel ill. This has gotten ugly. I can’t blot out the things you’ve said. Your lenses don’t allow you to see my light. Partner or servant? Why do you withhold? Made to feel less than… I’m your whore that you no longer engage. Eternal rejection. I’m put on pause until it’s convenient for you to acknowledge. This is no life. This is not the love I dreamed of.


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we are naked in such a beautiful way

it’s strange having my own space again… i have a closet again where i can put my shoes (they were in my car trunk perviously, or smashed underneath various tools/cases/cables/wires)…i can walk around naked again (even my boyfriend is like “damn you are really always naked now”)… i can take a bubble bath (the last place of residence wasn’t conducive to taking long leisurely baths- too many people for one bathroom you know…) and now i can have super loud sex again (without having to be muffled)… liberation!!! i almost feel like a guest in someone’s home and they’ll be home any minute now… lol. i’m setting mood lighting just for myself… using the dimmers to their fullest capacity. it’s lovely…it’s beautiful… and it’s quiet…

during my relaxing bath i took out all my old journals and it made for some good reading… i learned so much about myself… how i’ve evolved and where i still have yet to grow as an individual and within my relationships… everyone should keep some written account of their lives-it’s fascinating… we really are creating out own story…our legacy… and too often we forget those truly magnificent, precious, rare moments. i read in one journal a memory that brought tears to my eyes. i was recalling the love of an ex boyfriend who wrote at an interactive museum exhibit at LACMA  “Andree is eternal love, light, passion, manifestation of God on Earth”… i read my deepest thoughts on my current relationship and how things have changed and what has stayed the same… i read my musical doubts and fears and hopes and goals… and it reminded me even more of what i want in my life and how i’m getting there… i found so many poems and song ideas… it was like finding little crazy written treasures of knowledge or inspiration within each journal of my bizarre calligraphy. 

this reflection helped to clear my head a bit… so much is on my mind and heart lately… about what is true in our world. about authenticity in people especially in the city of LA… about communication… honesty… what is saying too much… i’ve always felt i should speak my truth to my fullest capacity… that by speaking my truth i was free… and though we may feel super exposed and vulnerable by this type of honesty it liberates us energetically in ways we don’t even comprehend. we are naked in such a beautiful way. i think people are generally one way or the other… they typically are outspoken or keep mostly to themselves- rarely have i met someone in between…there is a downside to sometimes speaking ones truth… u might feel embarrassment, shame, guilt, confusion, rejected, judged or sad… but i think those feelings stem not from speaking our truth but having  expectations of how others should react to our truth…another lesson i learned from my girl anessah…sometimes i don’t have to fully expose myself- my inner most thoughts/dreams/feelings to everyone i care about… 1-sometimes it can be selfish behavior in that they don’t want to know/they are better off not knowing and 2-some people aren’t deserving of knowing the depths of us… i’m almost too open… i even had a man that works with energy tell me that i put my energy out like 20 feet in front of me… that i need to almost contain what i’m radiating a bit more… it’s about balance.  last night at the doheny, the door man and i got into a great conversation about being an artist and the importance of vulnerability – he brought it up actually… and he said, “it’s courageous to be vulnerable” and i took it as a sign that it was good for me to expose myself (i need not be so hard on myself for being so open and be as honest as i am)… i am brave for speaking my truth fearlessly… though i do now feel that  though it’s beautiful to be exposed and have this nakedness of our truest feelings but sometimes we have to be aware who we’re naked around 🙂 or just be naked without caring of the consequences… but that seems a bit irresponsible?

Artist: Emma Hack

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