Today I am thankful for the characters in Broadway plays.
A man who I went to high school with found me on Facebook ten or so years ago. I'll refer to him as Mr. Cheeky.
Every week or so for years, we left obnoxiously sexually charged and cheeky comments for another high school friend.
These comments, at least in my mind, helped our friend meet his wife.
They were filthy posts.
We'd make them worse.
This friend and I hung out a bit. He'd talk about the woman he later married. We'd talk dirty to each other and he'd have to run outside and smoke a cigarette.
He wanted to date me -but- I was unavailable. He loved this other woman who lived thousands of miles away.
I'd listen.
Mr. Cheeky and I would encourage our friend to meet with the woman he obviously had a thing for.
He finally bought a plane ticket and brought her home.
It's awesome!
The lovely woman he married is funnier that we are!
Years later, it's easy to see that they are perfect for each other!
They are living proof that there is someone for everyone....
at least if you're not too scared to be who you truly are.
Really....how can the one meant for you find you if you pretend to be someone you're not??!!
Over the years more people joined our filthy party. There were six or seven of us just having innuendo filled dirty conversations on Facebook.
I no longer partook in the little dirty fun.
When I got involved in politics, they cleaned it up....
a little....
I would tell them not to embarrass me in front of the Christian Coalition.
Besides, some of those Republicans are in a dirty, filthy league that I am too innocent to join.
Eventually, the hacking got so bad that I was terrified to log into Facebook.
So I hid.
I always knew Mr. Cheeky was a neighbor.
I always knew he lived close by.
I knew this because we'd post about the same car accidents outside of our homes, or the tornado sirens or police activity....
Crap, the neighborhood is going to hell, isn't it?
A few years ago, I stopped posting my pictures due to the stalking so I'm not sure if he'd recognize me if he saw me.
He's worried. One of my friends from work posted his concerns that I was unemployed on Facebook and Mr. Cheeky saw it and reached out.
He sent me a lot of messages trying to cheer me up.
He asked me today what I looked like.
I said....
"Imagine little orphan Annie at middle age after she lets herself go!"
His response ?????
I love redheads!!!
Awww......
******************
It's not really fair the he asked what I look like.
He knows what I look like.
I've been in the paper.
He betrayed this later in our conversation.
I know who he is. He works down the street and runs a hardware store - the place I run to when my house falls apart. His colleagues are always saving me from mice and other home related disasters.
He looks like my uncle...the man who raised me.
Men who look like men I respect from my youth are dangerous.
Women fall in love with men who remind them of their father figures.
I have to stay away.
*****************************
Now, I feel the need to hide.
He asked if I date.
I said no.
I never date.
I just find men to hang out with.
The last guy didn't want to leave me alone....so....
I'm alone.
I can't date.
I think I'm going to be alone until I get reconstructive surgery.
I gotta make myself worth someone's time before I start hanging out in the fun way.
At least that's what I tell myself so I don't get desperate and start wanting to....[censored....].
He told me I'm too pretty to be alone.
I don't understand men.
I get called beautiful a lot.
I don't understand some words.
What is beauty?
What is pretty?
Is beauty giving money to a church thumbing its nose at a city government by housing the homeless?
Is beauty hypnotically bitching out a powerful group of assholes in defense of someone else?
Is beauty making someone see the uniqueness of his or her truth?
Is beauty a lipstick smudge on an excited [censored]?
Seriously.....I don't understand the meaning of the word.
Does it denote physical characteristics?
Or actions?
Feelings ?
What does the word mean?
I have no clue.
******
If you follow Jung, you know there are various archetypes.
I think I spent my life through my twenties living as the orphan archetype.
I lost my parents at a young age. I lived in foster care. I never really fit in. I tried to fit in. I played bass and saxophone. I pretended not to sing. I hated standing out in a crowd. I needed to blend into the band.
Everyone is equal. Everyone deserves connection. I was everything you saw me to be. I had so much empathy that I became a counselor and attracted sociopaths into my life.
I just wanted to fit in somewhere and to belong. I wanted to be a solid citizen, pay my taxes, volunteer and be a good little soldier.
Then government assholes high on power started fucking with my family.
Then they fucked with me so much so that they awoke my childhood anger. They brought out the fight I had in me from my teenage years trying to wrestle my sister from a sexually exploitive foster home.
I forgot how angry I was as a kid.
I don't trust assholes who profit off the government - blame shitty foster parents for that.
I realized that blending in didn't stop the shit from happening so I changed my strategy.
At thirty-eight, I found myself to be more of a Trickster.....The Coyote....Loki.....
Man....did I stand out from the crowd.
In doing so, I got some shit done.
I didn't get enough done....but some things changed.
I'm probably too pissed off to be a hero.
I'm never going to be Luke Skywalker......or a Lover.....or a Sage....or a Ruler....
I can pretend to be a Magician....
I'm a witch but only when I'm a trickster.
I have no clue who I am right now.
I have friends from my youth who somehow came back into my life.
I am alone.
After tomorrow I will not longer have a job.....
I'll still have my business.....
but no steady income.
******************
I did something stupid today.
I begged a judge not to send my ex-husband to jail.
The judge said that there would be no way to force him to do the things he's supposed to do if he doesn't go to jail.
Jail won't get him to do what he needs to do, either.
He turned in the key to my house.
He gave me back my garage door opener.
He hasn't broken in.
The guy outside my house wasn't Doug.
I turned the other cheek.
I pray I'm right.
I pray this shit is over.
I hope I don't grow to regret the decision not to imprison the guy who made my life a living hell.
Oh crap, maybe I am gaining wisdom.
Maybe I can become a Sage.
May your life become all you hope it to be.
Love you lots,
S.