i came here in mid-July. She says it took a bit for me to settle down into the structure and the peace. Everything came together, maybe, by August. i had a perhaps unrealistic idea that i would come back from Florida unscathed. As Sir Raven said, that we would walk through the threshold together, and everything else would fade away.
Instead, i came back home to her sick and exhausted. Spent. Weary.
i am working, daily, to let go of those things. It occurs to me that i feel that i have failed her in some manner to have not returned the same as i left. i am the same person, of course, just a bit more tired.
Sir Raven says i am to return to those things that i did before which focused me and pleased her. The normal routines of cooking, cleaning, laundry, meditations, yoga. And of course, i am doing all of those things with reasonable competence. i have needed more rest as i’m still feeling a bit ill and unfortunately so is she. Indeed, Sir Raven had to come home early from work yesterday. i warmed up some homemade chicken noodle soup and sat with her awhile watching silly movies and laughing. We tease each other constantly. i was sitting at her feet with her arms wrapped around me, content beyond measure. We were speaking of our age difference, which i hardly really notice. She makes her voice mock-stern, and says, “jade, when people ask how old you are, you are to tell them that you don’t know.”
i am absently pulling up my knee socks, smile sweetly, and respond, “Shall i tell them to ask my Daddy?”
She cuddles me closer and we laugh. “It’s no secret that i have a father fixation,” i point out. She asks what i mean by that and i irreverently explain that i’m still pissed off about being promised a pony and diamonds that i never received by my utterly absent biological father. Damn him.
On a more serious note…i am thinking that i need to work on some art. i am also trying to take more care to write here….so that i am not living too much inside of my own head. i need to keep myself open for her, despite the stuff opened up from my trip and my feelings of uncertainty of how to handle needing to distance myself from people who do not share Sir Raven’s goals. i am certain of the need for distance, just not sure how to create and sustain that without causing consequences. More and more though, i am thinking that those consequences are not my concern.
Last night, i lay awake a long time. My thoughts were tangled and racing. Part of it is just the stupid Christmas season. Sir Raven doesn’t celebrate the holiday, which makes me feel both a bit sad and also relieved. She would allow me to and has made that point clear. i just cannot see the point of it, just as i wouldn’t see the point of celebrating Christmas alone if i was single. This will be the fourth year i have cringed and ignored the season as best i could. Time is such a strange thing that it seems impossible that it’s been four years since that last Christmas with my nephews, the children of my heart. Three years since i saw my mother, for the last time, on Christmas day. In a foreshadowing i could not have guessed then, i bought her a beautiful scrapbook. i had put a lot of work into it, leaving the last several pages blank so she might enjoy adding to the book. Another box contained a scrapbook i made for my Grandmother’s memorial earlier that month. i bought her some other things but i can’t remember what. It doesn’t really matter anymore.
Christmas time makes me feel something akin to lonely. i don’t experience that emotion often and don’t do it well. It always, irrationally, felt like the entire rest of the world was normal and happy while my family had to use drugs and get drunk to avoid how fucking bad it all felt. Even when everything looked right….nothing felt right. i was the sober one. Wrapping gifts and trying to cajole everyone to get along for just one day. Weary. Frightened. Exhausted. No matter what i had bought or cooked or decorated, it never felt like enough. And then there was the expectation that i manage to conjur up the appropriate level of emotion for gifts. Some of them were nice, every year. Some of them embarrased me, because my mother had a fondness for choosing jewelry that was gaudy and i hate gaudy. i’m simple. Quiet. i hated the fake diamond cluster rings. Not because it was not real diamonds but because it was so obvious that the gift was about her and not me.
As a “family” though, we did nearly enjoy being rebels. We decorated the tree one year to the sounds of “The Happy Hooker” and i even had a sip out of the Jack Daniels, right out of the bottle. i just couldn’t do anything but laugh anymore. Norman Rockwell, we weren’t. Someone put on Counting Crows Album, “August, and everything After.” Its basically the soundtrack to my life.
So, maybe it all fits. This background noise in my head. The familiar Florida feelings of fear, anxiety, exhaustion. Coupled with the Christmas decorations, the declarations that i should have stayed longer to decorate for Christmas “together as a family.” Coupled with the feelings that nothing feels right, even knee deep in their twenty boxes of Christmas decor being transported to their other house.
Here. Home. Quiet, peaceful, relaxed. No yelling and no drama and no fear. And, also, no Christmas. Funny….nothing “looks right” but everything feels right here.
The bits of emotional residue are fading away because i’m not holding them down with the weight of not wanting to feel this stuff. Yet, feeling it reminds me that these things are about another life. Not this one. Letting the feelings come and go makes them drift away, like clouds. It’s the attempt to hold them down that does the damage.
Hopefully, Sir Raven will feel like using me soon. When she asked, in jest, “What kind of slave are you?” i answered, “the kind who hasn’t had her ass beat in a month. i’m surprised i’m not frothing at the mouth.” Sounding a bit weary, she said she was getting there herself. We need to bond in that way again. i need to let go into her~ and have her let go into me.
i am nervous about it. Nevous because i skipped over want and arrived at the need place with such intensity that it is there, in every thought, every heart beat. i need to demonstrate how i will suffer because i’m hers. i want to be able to give her everything and it is odd, hard, to not feel like i need to sift through myself and try to figure out what it is that is right to offer. This thing–its different. i don’t want to control it, any part of it. That includes me working through some stuff so i can let it flow, let it float. And just be.