In the Wake of Tears

I loved her with all my heart, all my soul
I loved her more than I loved myself
I sacrificed myself for her, for us

But when I could no longer live without loving myself too
I choose to live instead of killing myself
I found the way to loving who I am

Our promise to grow old together
Our promise to love each other no matter what
Or promise ended when we could no longer love each other and love ourselves at the same time

She could not love me for who I am; a soul free from my own torment
And I hate her for that
And that kills me inside every day

Because no matter what I say
Because no matter how much I try to hate her after all these years
Deep down I still love her despite what she did

Either way I died
Either way I still live
Either way loving myself is a promise I will keep

No matter how much hurts
No matter how much it burns
No matter how much I just want it all to stop

I know it get’s better
I know some days are better than others
I know I have to live to love again

My View, Pride, Sushi & Stuff


Well here I sit. I was literally sitting on the curb for a bit while writing today. Now I’m sitting on the stoop in front of my flat. The sun is shining and there is a nice breeze making today and especially wonderful day here in San Francisco. This city is growing on me for sure. I miss a lot about San Diego but it is just different. One thing I have noticed here is that no one sits on their front porch or stoop much around this part of town. Not like in some parts. The people seem nice enough here it just is not very neighborly. I never seen ANYONE out on this street except the French kids a couple houses down. Just seems odd to me.

San Francisco is definitely the gayest city in the world. My kind of town ;-). Last week was Pride. My first Pride here. All I can say is OMG I have seen just about everything now. So I am wondering why is it only the fat ugly and very white gay men are the ones that have to roller skate down Market Street wearing nothing more than a cock ring? Why can’t the good looking gay men do it at least. I mean the one guy was so lacking the guy in the clown suit yells out “OMG Small guy… ” as Mr. Cock Ring rolls by. I about tipped over the concrete when he blurted that out. So many heads turned and “Small Guy” quickly rolls off into the crowd.

Eeewww. On so many levels. But I digress. I’m good at digressing.

Back on the ground again. Need some shade for my sunburned shoulders.  “This is the Thing” by Fink is playing on my lappy right now.

We have a great cut off view of the city with the Castro in the foreground. If you look closely you can see Dolores Park in the distance. Dyke March 2010 started there last weekend. Wow. All I can say to that is Wow. Spending the entire day in the park with my people was so awesome. And I only had 2 beers.

I seriously need to make some real frineds. Peeps I can just hang out with. It would go a long way to improving my enjoyment of this city. I have met a couple people including Autumn who has a great San Francisco blog at “A Mindful Individual“. Had an awesome sushi dinner with her and her frineds a few weeks ago. Hopefully we can do something again soon.

Oh and I signed up to play in the Woman’s Football League here.  That is Soccer for all you who are a bit slow.

There is so much to do here it’s crazy. A little country girl in a big city. I have so much more to figure out here and in my life. But I am pretty satisfied with the view.

View from our deck.
Sitting on the curb, writing.


She sits in her bed.

It is nearly 5:00 in the afternoon.

Her bedroom, her sanctuary. She is me.

My own best friend and worst enemy.

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Do I even notice myself here? My bed is filled with blankets pillows and creature comforts. Kettle popcorn, computer pencils and drawing pad adorn my comfort zone. A scented candle burns on one of two night stands surrounding me. The rails of the canopy bed are hung with multicolored scarves and pastel sheers to soften my space. The white on white room is only mildly tidy. The colors of dark and unpainted furniture are all that break the white on white expanse of walls. A disorganized room for a disorganized woman.

I am in my head again. Deep within my head. I have been traveling there a lot more these past few weeks. My only distractions being reading my book “Curse the Dawn” by Karen Chance, drawing, playing my guitars, I have several, and my purgatory online, social networking. I go to work and the gym of course. Yeah I joined a gym a couple weeks ago. I am glad I did. It feels really good to sweat and lift weights. I have been so horribly out of shape. I am going to get my supermodel body if it kills me. I know I will never be a supermodel. A fetish or pinup model would be really cool. Oh yeah. That has been a secret in my heart for some time. I always wanted to be a supermodel from about the first day I saw Cristy Brinkley. I had a poster of her in my locker in Jr High. I wanted to be her. I still think she is one of the most beautiful women in history.

Still in my sanctuary. I am listening to chill music videos like Fink and Breaks Co-op. I keep trying to draw something through the haze of confused and trouble thoughts. I admit I don;t have a perfect life. I don’t have a fucked up life either. I have built something from nearly nothing… again. the hardest part about that is that I have NO friends here. Not real hang out any ole time hay stop by kind of friends anyway. I think I only ever had one of those my entire life. I like my job but I do not make friends with people at work. It’s just too complicated. It has nothing to do with being a lesbian either. I am out REALLY out in that regard.

I did manage to make what may turn out to be a really true and lasting friend up in Sonoma county. Dr. D. I call her. She has a heart of gold and deserves so much better than me. We have enjoyed each other company very much lately. I care about Dr. D so I won’t taint her life with my details here. Let’s just hope I don’t fuck up that relationship anymore than I may have already done. Side not: it’s almost comical that we talk on the phone frequently but neither of us can hear what the other is saying half the time. My friend in the stix. 😉 

Half a bag of popcorn down the chute and I can tell the sun is setting. Not because the clock says 5:23 but I can sense it. I have one window facing another window in an alley of sorts. A void between two Victorian houses really. Not much light here but I still feel it. I think I am going to keep writing. I am not getting very far with the drawing thing today. Maybe I will do that tomorrow. Maybe not. I have several things I really need to do or plan. I keep putting then off too.

Is this what it was life when I was a teen the first time around? I’m here again. Young of mind and filled with angst, emotion and unsure of many things. I guess this may just be the price of coming out so late in life. I’m working on a plan. Not sure what really. I told Dr. D I don’t make plans anymore. She commented “Why, because you just breaking them again?” Ouch. Funny but not. She was dead on.

I’m still here in my sanctuary. A unsure, maybe fading place of peace and comfort.


Am I just hiding from life and running from something?