You know, a good friend said to me yesterday that I should be patient. That I should wait.
That it’s some kind of stupid long weekend in America and that she hasn’t had time.
SHE’S HAD AN ENTIRE FUCKING WEEK!
A WHOLE WEEK!
Yes, yes, we’re talking about Scotty’s other woman. His fiance. His… well at this rate, anger making cuntmonkeyface.
Today, today I’m full of good things. I’m centered, I’m feeling the love for my people, it’s strong, it’s steady and it’s a constant stream along those lines that connect my heart to theirs. Can you feel it? I hope you can, I lovers you all.
I was told I should be patient and take the high road. I retorted with I will take the high road. Right after I step on that bitches face to step up to it.
And that is where I stand right now.
I’m so angry I could swim over there just to kick her arse around like a little basketball and then swim home again.
But I hold my tongue. I messaged Scotty last week to ask if she’d gotten the message. He says that they are currently with family up north and that he’s sure she will reply when she has a spare minute. This morning I realise from pictures they are back in Vegas. Where has polite manners gone these days? A quick note back from her to say “Thanks for your message, currently engaged with family for holidays and will get back to you when I have a spare moment” would have been sufficient. But what do I get? Nothing.
A BIG FAT NOTHING.
Well fuck you too.
End rant here.
Sighs miserably. Why can’t she love me?
We knew this day would come around eventually.
But it wasn’t a reality until I got that email saying I’ve been subpoenaed to attend court.
So the churning in my guts and the nausea I feel as I’m writing this with my eyes tearing up convinces me that this might not the easiest thing in the world. For my friend or myself.
One last hurdle. One last hurdle and it’s done. It’s gone. We never have to deal with it ever again and he gets deported after his sentence.
The relief of this doesn’t lessen the sweaty palms or the sick feeling in my stomach.
I worry about my friend. About what avenue she might take to deal with this, to get past it. However I can not fault her, this might be hard for me, it’s going to be hell for her. How she deals with this is whichever way she feels she can cope. Of me, all I can do is offering to be there.
I’m a but a buoy in the rough seas at the moment.
My own turbulence wouldn’t even match hers. Yet in a way I’m so proud of her. For not quitting. For not withdrawing and saying no more.
Sometimes there’s peace in knowing the fucker pays. I hope this gives her the peace she needs and deserves.
I don’t really have words at the moment. However when they come, I apologise in advance for the torrent of emotional posts that will follow.
And no, I don’t mean the L word as in the lesbian TV series, although it was a great soft porn show… if I do say so myself.
So let’s talk about that funny thing that makes us all giddy, high, scared, neurotic and warm and fuzzy about another person.
Loki texted me last Tuesday. He texted me something that made me pause. I felt my heart skip a few beats and then flutter to life and beat stupidly fast as I grinned like the cat that got the cream. Literally.