confessions of a secret scorpio birthday

confession: i cried so hard on monday night the whites of my eyes turned red and the irises became caribbean sea turquoise. that turquoise is my new favorite color.
confession: i cried because my estranged wife left flowers and presents on my doorstep, as is her tradition on november 1st. the tradition began after a decade of miserable birthdays on october 8th. because scorpio figures prominently in my astrological chart, she decided that she would celebrate my birthday on november 1st. because i haven’t seen her in a couple months, i think i expected her to forget or forgo it this year. she didn’t. the rainbow of wildflowers and every present were perfectly knowing, and i’m difficult to buy for because i’m not interested in receiving physical things. i saved the card for last, because her written words always make me cry. my heart breaks for her, for us, for what we were, for what we are now, for what i’m unsure we can be from here. i can only hope my heart is breaking open.
confession:  i don’t leave relationships, even when they are over or when i know i should. i don’t know how to leave and i’ve never wanted to learn. i know quite well how to push people into leaving me. i know how to be unbearably frustrating and impossible to relate with until the other leaves. my wife won’t leave. she knows me, my patterns, my fears. she knows how i am. she is absurdly easy to get along with, which means that when i’m being impossible, she continues to make it work between us. 
confession: there are a couple hours from last night that i don’t remember. my memory returns at the moment i was saying some stupid things…on repeat. i wish there was a delete button for stupid things said while drunk and for too many shots responsible for the drunk.
confession: when i realized this morning that i had blacked out last night, i had the same thought i always have when that happens, promising myself “never again.” i really really really really really really really want this time to be the last. this problem has an easily obvious solution.

confession: learning some of what happened while i was blacked-out, i am grateful for not remembering. apologies to everyone involved…but please, just forgive me and leave my grateful ignorance of those events in tact, especially the bad dancing.


About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
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One Response to confessions of a secret scorpio birthday

  1. GranDiva says:

    Confession: 😀 😉

    Confession: I feel free. I’m happy and guilty about that, but the guilt is verrrry small in comparison to the happy. Like… my patchouli ylang ylang combo… 9 drops patchouli, 1 drop ylang ylang.

    Confession: Liking patchouli scares me. Wearing it makes me think I’m a vest away from a pair of Birks.

    Confession: I’m still wearing it. 😀 Fuck it! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

    Confession: Secretly, I’m appeasing my Cappy need to be hot[ter] through the holistic practice of yoga and clean eating. The amazing, soul-cleansing, self-loving effects are the secondary benefit.

    Confession: I’m trying to reframe the previous confession… but I’d be lying…. so Fuck it!

    Confession: I hope my confessions bring smiles to your face and knowing giggles to your chords. I miss and love you. I’m VERY thankful it’s cold enough for some bold Zins… Sin Zin soon!

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