I have avoided writing this week as I lick my wounds and vacillate between acceptance and frustration. I still smell his scent on clothes. If I close my eyes, I can feel the embrace that seemed to at least temporarily repair all the broken pieces. I miss it. It has been a week of no contact. I miss him and still find myself wondering if  he is safe, fed, and has shelter. I am ok until I contemplate what he does in order to obtain those things, and then I am saddened and my heart aches even more. Nothing like picking at a scab to prolong the healing. There is a certain twisted satisfaction in such endeavors.

Yesterday found me burning the 8 volumes of journals I had kept with Michael. They chronicled our 2+ years together. They were a form of hostage taking for me- I got mad if he didn't write in the book. My drunken control freak wanting constant reassurances demanded of him that he read what I wrote and respond. Not a healthy game, not a fair game, and not a thing to do to someone you love. Fear of losing him and us drove me to the depths of despair. Adding drugs and alcohol onto that simmering madness was sometimes explosive. So I loaded them into the fire pit, doused them in gasoline and struck a match. A tinge of sadness came and then a great sense of release- as though I had somehow severed a bond that kept us bound to a time and place. I gave up the ghost on a beautiful day at the close of summer. I set him and I both free.

It is Sunday. Tomorrow is the Equinox. Fall is already hinting of its presence as the poplars drop leaves and the dogwoods begin to turn red. The temperature is dipping lower at night, the slant of sunlight has changed. It won't be long until the forest is devoid of color and the starkness of winter descends.

The day found me being extremely lazy. I left the house late afternoon to obtain cigarettes and petrol. I have begged out on the porch for hours on end today. I have however, continued to complete at least thirty sit ups and a few reps of planks each day, often twice a day. I am feeling the burn, and might be seeing a little definition begin to take form. I am not sure I desire ripped abs, but a more toned body would be nice. 

So I ask the universe to guide my thoughts and actions each day, to help them be divorced of anger, resentment, jealousy, and self seeking motivations. I say thank you at the close of each day for the gifts bestowed. It seems to be working a little magic in my day, although I can quickly offset any gains by not remembering to eat, being tired, angry or lonely. I also am remembering that I can reset the day at any moment- thank you Scott C...your advice when I was a drunk still rings clear in my ears, and has worked its magic for a few years now.

I close the day and smile. I remain. I remain connected. I remain willing to learn. These all come together and seem to be vital ingredients to a relatively sane and purposeful life.

The abcessed  tooth has led to what feels like shingles... it has been 15 years. The tooth is still bothering me after my 10 day run of antibiotics after the urgent care visit and dentist. The dentist sent me to a specialist, which I will see on the 28th. The nerves are angry on the upper left part of my face. I miss work and go to the doctor. He thinks shingles returning. He gave me the meds for arresting shingles and gave me another antibiotic for the tooth. I am so uncomfortable. The doctor gave me a note for work- I wouldn't be returning until Friday.

I met James afterwards. We got him some used tires as his threadbare ones had wire sticking out of them. He stopped by the bird sanctuary. I took some photos of him on the tree. He lost his lighter on the big tree. He whisked me away to Earth-haven as a way to get me into a stress-free environment, promising a soak in a stream, quiet time alone.

The sentiment and thought behind going were lovely. I tried to decline, he seemed hurt by my hesitation, so I acquiesced. We went in his car. We drove to Old Fort and went through Crooked Creek on our way. Earthhaven is located near the old Camp Elliott where I retreated as a runaway to stay with Barry and Linda.

We arrived in time for the Tuesday evening potluck. Food was low, James retreated repeatedly and left me feeling very alone. It was crowded, I was surrounded by people I did not know. After dinner we walked with Prince Otter through the compound. James wanted to swim and Keith wanted to keep going. I felt lost. We did end up skinny dipping which was nice. My discomfort was grating and still I tried to be present and engaged. I really just wanted to sleep.

We ended up at Keith's place. James and I were to share a bed downstairs. It was chaotic, as Keith played on his computer situated on a desk at the head of the bed. James got lost in a game. Again I felt lost and uncomfortable.  I was edgy, out of my normal comfort place.  The evening drug on until midnight. Retreating to the porch to smoke, I was in awe of the sky above. The Milky Way was magnificent.  I wanted to share it with him, but the game had his attention. At bedtime James and I spoke and I tried to relay my situation; he was hurt by my words and did not understand my conveyances of discomfort on every level made worse by my face. Sleep was not peaceful. We were each restless. It felt good being with him, the air was thick with angst, which killed any peaceful or tranquil feelings.

Morning held an obligation for working on the Sanctuary- a former cob structure that was being repurposed by being wrapped in wire and concreted. I helped as I was able by mixing concrete. We had agreed to be heading back into town by 2. It was fascinating to see the place, to see how structures could be built and reused. It distracted me from my dis-ease. James and Keith worked, we finished up and Keith made some yummy food. I assisted Kris cut up tomatoes while Keith got cleaned up. James vanished and again left me alone. I was hurt- here I was in a very strange place, left to fend for myself. The man whom I followed here seemed clueless and unconcerned. He grew more and more distant. The ride back to town was strained- cramped as four men, luggage and several guitars were all crammed into a car. Looking at my wallet I realized that I had $26 left out of the $200 I had made at Packs. I swear I don't know how I managed to spend that much. I felt defeated, abandoned and broke.

We parted ways on that Wednesday late afternoon at Starbucks. We got back around 5:30. I tried the best I could to apologize for being so  uncomfortable, but I swear he didn't get it. He hasn't had shingles- he doesn't understand that I wanted to peel my face off, to claw my eyes out of their sockets. 

I came home and laid low Thursday. No word from him unless I initiated it. No queries as to my well being. I was left to contemplate our time together. My concern for his safety, well being and being in general are still here- but I am left feeling like it is extremely one sided.  Red flags are waving and still I care, still I find myself loving this young man. I feel him walking away. I do not wish to see him go. What do I do?