The Assumption of John

Nearly a year in exile I received a call from John, Aries’ boyfriend of nearly four years.  He was grief stricken.  Aries had ended their relationship.  He wanted to meet.

During the years I’d known him, I had grown attached to John’s sweet charm. I had watched him mature from a cute, blonde, blue-eyed, freckled kid, into a handsome young man whose one eye finally straightened out.  I’d gladly give him my time. 

John picked me up in his white Honda and we went for a drive.  Parked away from city lights, he narrated his confusion.  Here in the dark on some back road in Milton, John finished his story, he began to cry.  He cried and cried.  I wasn’t sitting there with John, the man; I was there with John, the child.  Hurt, bewildered, his trusting eyes searched mine for answers I couldn’t give him.  I was the only person he knew who understood how it felt to be suddenly severed by Aries. 

I was his comrade in the aftermath of battle.  We often went for drives.  He would call me late night while out with his friends.  He’d tell me about the girls calling him for sex, sometimes asking for my thoughts. Whoring himself, John’s feelings of rejection must’ve been deep.  I offered advice and listened.  I cared about him.     

On St. Patricks Day John and I hit a local pub.  It was fun.  We loosened up, felt brave as we dialed Aries’ number.  We left a message.   I have no idea what we said. The call was not intended to be malicious.  We were happy and wanted to share it with the one person we were thinking of, Aries. 

Years in between all this silence, I wonder how many lies Mary has told Aries.  I wonder how many lies Aries herself has assumed of me.  Did she believe I had sex with John? 

Seldom times spoken, she’s never questioned me. 

No.  John and I never had sex.  There was a fleeting temptation.  He was younger, vulnerable and hurting over Aries.  While sex and love can be healing, in this particular instance, it would’ve been a predatory act of power.  I couldn’t hurt John or Aries that way.  All that would’ve resulted would’ve been more pain.  I’m not Goliath.

I once read a very true statement, ‘Ignorance is the root of all suffering.’  Aries could’ve been free of pain if she chose it, if she wanted the truth.  There are consequences, it’s not easy.  Every decision in this light requires honesty in our path.  It requires we walk it.  I would’ve walked that path with her; she could’ve leaned on me.  Aries could’ve walked my path, I would’ve stayed by her.  She’s chosen her chains of presumptions instead.  They’re heavy and they lead nowhere.

Bound by our perceptions, paradigms and pain, I’m asking you to suspend assumptions.  It’s difficult for me too.  When you read my blog, I want you to just Be.  Forget being gay, straight, an intellect or an outcast.  Dismantle any other comparison that limits and hides you.   Walk past the chains.   I’m asking this of you because it means freedom.  If you're free, then there’s a slight chance you’ll walk with me. 

Continued on Friday July 1^st  2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

Aries, Pain, and Eden

Everything was joyless.

I was numb.  Tears streamed down my face daily, I didn’t’ care who saw.  I didn’t care, period.

When I re-solidified, anger replaced hurt.  Aries was not stupid.  If she felt I was not ‘blood’ or ‘family’ it was her true feelings.  For her, loyalty to blood is stronger than loyalty to love.  For me, loyalty to love is stronger than loyalty to blood.  Mars opposes my natal Jupiter, it’s even evident here.

Mary and Dick could kick me out of their home but I was still Aries’ godmother.  I would call. Mary would answer and Aries would come to the phone.  I imagined Mary there in the kitchen, listening, as Aries stared blankly at the wall while I spoke.  Each time I called, Aries spoke less.  One time we remained on the phone for forty-five minutes without conversation.  Aries had nothing to say.  My calls grew further apart.  She never called me.  Not even on my birthday.  When I stopped calling, it was over.

Don’t feel sorry for me, (insert smile here).  My pain is a common experience.  Our pain is a common experience and we are beautiful in it.  For all the differences we have, we all understand pain, it reveals.  Aries in her emotional turmoil often appeared beautiful to me.  It’s not that pain is beautiful, it isn’t.  The release is.  We are real.  There are no pretences in pain.  We are vulnerable, open to experience whatever it is we feel, yes - we feel.  We evaluate Self. 

I realized soon after I met Mary what kind of person she was.  There was a layer to Mary that was sincere.  There were other layers that were not.  I knew this.  I didn’t know how Goliath would manifest but I knew Goliath was there; I was treading on his land, he was tracking my footfalls. All this information didn’t matter to me.  I had had the dream and was profoundly attached to Aries.  There was no way I was leaving her.

Do I have any regrets?  No.  Aries was the best part of my life during those years.

I recall a conversation with David about three years back.  He spoke of Aries and asked, 'What’s with you two?  Aries won’t tell me what happened.  Does it really go that deep?’  I replied, ‘Aries didn’t tell you and neither will I.  I don’t know if it goes that deep, but I know it’s that volatile.’  I told the truth.  I also lied.  Yes, David, it did go that deep.  Aries and I rarely spoke of our relationship to anyone.  It was an understood thing between us.  We simply withheld.  Writing this blog is the most I’ve shared about her. 

Web Master, a friend who reads the blog, wanted to know more about the young lady from my entry ‘Magic Mirror Gate,’ Eden. I withheld here too.  It’s not about my unwillingness to share; it’s about my need to protect my experience of her.  I will say this in reference to Eden - I haven’t seen her in weeks.  Am I hoping to interact with her again?  Yes.  Will I get that chance?  I don’t know.  I hope I do, I still feel connected to her. I also miss her. 

Finer aspects of the story will continue on Wednesday. 

I’ll end this entry pleasurably with secret thoughts of Eden.  This song reminds me of her. 

It’s also for you.  Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MQRwnhxNB8

Continued on Wednesday June 29^th 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

The Art of War

Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of the enemy's unpreparedness; travel by unexpected routes and strike him where he has taken no precautions.

Sun Tzu

‘Some people in this house....’  Aries looked up, gauged my attention level, looked back down and finished, ‘…aren’t as fond of you, as you are of them.’  Eyes met mine in stillness.

Goliath.

‘Okay.  There’s nothing I can do, no one’s done anything to me that I’m aware of.’ I responded.  We sat in silence.

I hadn’t known Aries suspected I knew her parents harboured ill will against me.  Yes, Mary liked me at first.  When my attention drifted from her to Aries everything changed.  I was caught between two people I loved but it was no contest, I favoured Aries.

I got up, went to Aries and we held each other. Her face in my neck, I soaked her in; memorized the feel of her against me.  The time was near.  By speaking about Goliath, Aries had given me permission to fight him. I didn’t think I would actually lose her.

Shortly thereafter I learned Dick had started the rumour.  Not only had he started the rumour, he began it years prior.

I continued visiting Mary and the kids but didn’t speak to Dick.  What had I to say to him?  Mary urged me to discuss my feelings with Dick and I agreed.  I would take up arms against Goliath.

When I saw Dick next I mentioned the rumour.  I told him it reached my mother, implicated Aries and I knew he spawned it.  He laughed.  I requested an apology.  He sent the kids upstairs.  Mary stayed. I asked him what was so funny.  He claimed the rumour was a joke and he meant no harm by it.  I said jokes make people laugh and I wasn’t laughing.  He tried to convince me that others knew it was a joke.  I disagreed.  Dick called over a neighbour to vouch for him.  I asked this neighbour if she believed the rumour, she said she did.  I asked her why.  She replied, ‘why wouldn’t I?  It’s coming from the horse’s mouth.’  Dick excused her and she left.  He thought she would lie for him, instead, she told the truth for me.  Justice, I had won the battle.  The battlefield however, belonged to Goliath. 

Dick instantly changed the subject.  He said I owed him an apology.  In visiting his family and excluding him from pleasantries, I had disrespected him.  Mary broke her silence.  Her eyes twinkled as her mouth crept into a smile, ‘you disrespect my husband - you disrespect me.’ 

Bitch. 

The next words spoken were Dick’s, ‘Get out of my house and don’t come back.’

That was it.

Battle won, war lost.  Goliath lived and so did I.

I stood at the sliding door, searching for my car keys.  They waited like village idiots until I found them.

It was over.

A few weeks later I met Aries at Chapters.  She filled me in on the latest – no one was allowed to speak my name. 

I had missed Aries’ seventeenth birthday and Goliath would restrict our contact from then on.  I was willing to wait for her, willing to let her mature into an adult who’d then be free to do as she pleased.  We’d weather this storm.  I didn’t doubt for one moment the strength our bond.  It would continue.

Strumming through the spines of books, a familiar peace filled me.  I missed Aries and this time with her was comforting. Our conversation continued about the day I left.  Something I said triggered a response in Aries.  Suddenly she stopped, looked directly into my eyes and stoutly remarked, ‘...you’re not blood Lesley.’ 

The sword pierced my ribs cleanly dissecting my heart.  My soul sank to its knees and I fell back. 

Short of breath, I said nothing.  My eyes rolled back into my head.  I didn’t suspect she felt as her parents had this whole time.  All my love changed nothing.  It was nothing.  It meant nothing.  I became nothing, dissolved into a mist.

I know Aries.  I know I’m not blood, I‘m water. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfzRlcnq_c0

Continued on Monday June 27^th 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

A Changing Time

I cannot tell where the wind lies; one wave rolls from this side, one from that, and we in their midst are borne along with our black vessel.

Alcaeus

Summer came and went.

The taste of autumn was foreboding.  Clouds, feelings; the unstoppable energy that had been haunting me for five years was making itself known.

The air grew crisp, cold and sobering, my birthday passed along with Christmas.  Everything was quiet, peaceful.  I find it difficult to trust Peace.

The New Year ushered itself in.  A knowing settled on me, wet, layered, a heavy snow.  I couldn’t bear the loss of Aries.   In the years I’d known her, she transformed from this lovely young child into a beautiful young woman, wise, private, fierce.  A head-stone marked the death of her innocence, it stood cold and alone in her eyes; I saw it, stood by it, caressed my finger across it.  A part of her had been devoured, pieces left exposed, carnage; I felt it, stood by it, couldn’t stop it.  Her face, although pretty, showed evidence of burden.  Indeed, long she’s been a mule for Goliath.

I took comfort in knowing it was February.  At least it wasn’t Easter.  Easter isn’t a good time for me.  For years I’ve experienced some sad or troubling event at Easter.  I don’t remember a good Easter.

Late February one evening I visited with Mary and the kids.  I don’t recall the night's events prior to seeing Aries and I have no memory of details after I saw her.  I only remember Aries.

Approaching Aries’ room I noticed the door was shut.  I knocked lightly.  Granted entry, I sat down on the floor next to the door, against the wall, my usual spot.  Something was wrong.  Something was very wrong.  Aries sat on her bed clad in black from head to toe.  I had never seen her completely in black.  I didn’t like it.

She was quiet, detached, yet thoughtful and present.  Careful…yes, she was being careful in her presence. 

I said, ‘Hey.’  She responded evenly, ‘Hey.  Here, I have a letter for you.’  She leaned over to her desk, fetched it and handed me several folded pages.  I studied the tightly creased bundle then looked up to meet her face. 

‘I want you to read it…now.’  She gently requested.   It was important I do as she asked.  An indescribable energy bade me compliance.  I would not argue, or play, or insist as I would have normally done.  ‘Read the last page first.’ She instructed.

I unfolded the wad and shuffled to the last page.  ‘I’m crying as I write this.  I’ve been crying through this whole letter.  I wish I had my fairy dust right now.  Here I am making it difficult for you, making you read the last page first…’  It continued, ‘…I know you feel it but you haven’t said anything.  I wish you would just say something…’  Finally, ‘this could destroy ‘us.’ Aries was in pain, turmoil, anguish.  It hurt her.  It hurt her that she and I never spoke about Goliath even though he was all around us.  Everywhere but right here, right now.

Aries looked down at her mattress, her hands.  After reading the last page of her note, I looked up at her.  I saw her beautiful, sad face, through this thick emotion that was our world, our place.  Right then, I felt an immense love for her.  She was my love.  I realize now, these many years later that she was the first great love of my life. 

‘Okay, I’ve read it.’ My voice was quiet.  She looked down at her comforter, played with a loose string and spoke.

Continued on Saturday June 25^th 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

A Bold Move

There are many little ways in which Goliath drew power to itself.

Mary didn’t drive.  Many people refuse to drive, they’re afraid.  To me, her decision was strategic in nature.  Why drive and be self-reliant when you can pull more strings as a helpless mother?  Someone would have to cater to her dependent state.  Mary was anything but helpless.   As an observer, I noted how she controlled her marriage by playing the victim wife.  Yes, she played that role.  It’s one thing to be a victim; it’s another thing to enjoy it – control.

Aries’ sixteenth year was generally tumultuous aside from the odd rainbow here and there. One such rainbow came in the form of a boy from school named John, and they began dating.  

Settling down for a coffee one evening, Mary confided in me about Aries.  A habitual knee-bouncer, I’ve never known Mary to sit still. The bouncing was made prominent by her worried tone.

‘There’s something wrong with Aries.’  Bounce–bounce went her knee, eyes shifted from me to the floor, to her mug and back up to me again.

I kept my relationship with Aries deep in my heart, sheltered from the world outside, protected from Goliath.  I was not about to share a damn thing with Mary about it.  Aries was safe, she was not suicidal.  Yes, she  carried an unspoken sadness, this much was evident.  I never questioned her about it, I knew it had to do with me. 

I ventured, ‘Aries’ a teenager, she’s private, just like any other sixteen year old.’

Mary sounded sure, ‘No, there’s something wrong, there’s something more.  Do you think I should read her diary?’  I nearly choked.  First of all - no, second of all, diary - what diary?  I hadn’t fathomed  Aries kept a diary.  She and I wrote pages daily, when did she have time to pen a diary?  Mary was talking crazy, an invasion of privacy, trespassing.

‘No, I don’t think you should do that.  If you’re worried, just have a talk with her, she loves you.  If there’s anything wrong she’ll tell you, you’re her mother.’  I couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation with her.

‘Has she said anything to you?’ Suspicion, hazel eyes bearing through, searching for a twitch perhaps, a betrayal of truth found in the glimpse of my eye? 

‘No.  About what?  Mary, honestly, I think she’s fine.’  Silence, sip-sip, bounce-bounce, and the conversation ended.

Returning the next day, I entered Aries’ room, she was sitting on the bed facing the door, facing me.  Her ochre eyes, red and teary.  Inside them an ember burned, a flame. Anger, defiance.

Her lips quivered, an attempt at restraint, ‘My mother read my diary last night.  She came to me today so we could ‘talk’ about it.’ Violated, she felt violated, maybe even used.

‘What?  Why - why did she do that?’  I was not only shocked, I was confused.

‘She told me you told her she should do it.’  Her eyes were pleading, flaming arrows in waiting.

Awareness...Bitch.

Behold, he travails with wickedness, and he conceives mischief, and brings forth falsehood.  He has dug a pit and hollowed it out, and he has fallen into the hole which he made.  Psalm 7:14,15

The end is near.  

No, seriously, the end is near, likely the next blog or two.

Continued on Thursday June 23^rd 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

A Place In Between

The world is unfathomable.

And so are we, and so is every being that exists in this world.

The Wheel of Time by Carlos Castenda

A young couple lay in bed whispering in the dark.  Their first born child, a boy, is situated in a room nearby.  A sweet looking boy, gentle, unusual and kind, he is likely still awake, out of bed and speaking to the ‘man at the window.’

In a soft undertone, the excited young mother, swollen with pregnancy, discusses the arrival of her babies with her husband.  The young father had always wanted a girl and now he’ll get two.  Their hushed dialogue slowly silences as the sound of an infant’s cry permeates their room. Looking at one another, eyes locked in attention, the young couple listens.  Awareness floods the young mother as unease settles through her husband. An old superstition, a wives’ tale, rises to the surface of their minds and the crying stops.   The cry of unborn babe has been heard, a telling.  

By the age of six I had disowned my parents.  I recall the conversation I had in my head.  I decided I couldn’t trust them; God was my real father and it would be Him I would obey.  There was no dogma to convince me of anything, I was much too young to understand religion.  My parents had trouble with me from the beginning, after my decision however, it was impossible to reign me in.  I simply refused to listen to ‘these people.’  I saw them outside of myself.  It was lonely but I wasn’t alone, there was always some unseen being with me, I could feel him.

Superstition, as described by Wikipedia: is a credulous belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge.  The word is often used pejoratively to refer to folk beliefs deemed irrational.  This leads to some superstitions being called ‘old wives’ tales’.  It is also commonly applied to beliefs and practices surrounding luck, prophecy and spiritual beings, particularly the belief that future events can be foretold by specific unrelated prior events.

The move from Mary’s home to my basement apartment offered me peace in the form of a new routine.  I would drop my dog, Lolli, at my parent’s house prior to work and retrieve him on my way home.  My world was quiet.

Readying myself for sleep, I retired to my futon already occupied by Lolli.  Surprisingly he turned, jumped to floor and fervently barked at the doorway - at nothing. I tried to calm him but it was no use.  In my mind’s eye, the image of a very tall man stood several feet away.  I felt the man leave and Lolli’s barking ceased. 

That night I had a dream.  Somewhere in between worlds it was still nightfall.  I flew upward, perched myself on a pole.  Settled on another pole across the street was an energy form, a vampire.  An imposter in this place, I cloaked myself in energy similar to his so I could move about undetected.  He watched me, scrutinized.  If I wasn’t careful he’d recognize I was unlike him, I was benevolent.  In this place intent is everything, it is strength.  Sensing my apprehension the vampire moved closer.  I perched elsewhere, he followed.  Unseen, another presence observed, I was never alone.  It was too late to change this moment, my weak intent had turned me into prey.  With an outstretched arm the vampire swooped in ferociously.  His claws punctured my chest, my heart in his fist, he squeezed until I couldn’t breathe.  I woke with a start, drenched in perspiration and a vivid pain in my chest.  It was still my witching hour.  I wondered if I would survive the night. 

September 9^th, a month later to the day, I arrived at my parent’s house to find my sister and mother attempting to carry my father down the stairs.  My father was visibly pale, weak and sweating.  He was barely conscious.

Two doctors at the hospital would conclude: my father didn’t have a heart attack, whatever happened to his heart, was an anomaly.

I lost power that night on August 9^th.   Cannibal in desire, I vowed to destroy that thing if I ever came across it again.  Goliath, like the vampire, will find no mercy in me.

Happy Father’s Day

Continued on Tuesday June 21^st  2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

Beneath a Watchful Eye

A turbulent circumstance gave rise to two fortunes; Mary, allowing me into her home could solidify herself as the heroine she feigned to be; and I could be as close to Aries as I wished - Aries could be as near to me as she pleased.

Finding shelter in Mary’s home was a gift for which I’m thankful.  Whatever motives existed, it was and is, a kindness I still appreciate.

Unexpressed joy lay hidden inside Aries and me.  It was a delicate knowing that never needed a voice, a peace that originated from being under the same roof.

It was a luxury to watch Aries her comb her hair before she left for school.  My heart was hers, was with her in all moments even one this small.  Divinity was found in quiet comfort as Aries lay her head on my lap when we watched television, or in a silence that spoke when she held my hand (as though I could belong to another).

My favourite indulgence was the opportunity to say goodnight as she lay in bed.  Secretly wishing I was the last person she saw before she slept, I’d knock lightly on the door or peer through the open entrance.  I’d walk over, say goodnight, memorize her face, then kiss her forehead. Aries would shut her eyes, absorb all of me, I’d feel her calm and think, my love.

These simple moments are for me the most intimate.  They live in my heart along with time  spent in Aries’ room listening to her, holding her, or just sitting there against the wall and feeling her.  It was beautiful and short lived.

After spending an evening out visiting a friend who was moving away, I ventured back home to Mary’s a little after nine.  Approaching the house I noticed an oddity.  All the lights were out - all of them.  In the nearly five years I had spent there as a guest I had never seen this happen. Every single person, including Dick, who usually worked until eleven each night, was already asleep.  I cupped my hands and leaned in against the glass in an effort to understand. Without the privilege of a house key, I knocked lightly hoping to draw attention.  I then knocked louder. Knocking again I waited for the depth to break – nothing.  I sat in the patio chair.  As the northerly wind blew I noted it was just spring and all too cold to be sitting outside, let alone sleep here.  I was dumbfounded.  It was a Friday night, usually a late movie night at their house.  From some well deep within me my body spoke a truth - this was an omen.  A knowing I could not change or ignore.

At two-thirty or three Saturday morning I took out my phone and called the house. Why didn’t I just call the house when I got in?  Darkness, silence, both promised me a truth if I sat and listened.  Had I gone in, where would silence or the darkness be to tell me its secret?  The night has always been my friend, a private ally in the world of power and it would tell me what it knew, and I understood.

Coloured by light, I watched a lone figured unlock the door.  Mary.  Ushering me in apologetically, her smile soon evolved into gratified amusement.  She didn’t mask her delight as she spoke, ‘You should have called when you got in.’

Later that same morning I tidied and dusted my little room.  I told Mary I had some errands to run and left. Newspaper in hand, I circled an apartment for rent and went to view it.  I was one of six people who had seen the place and it was still morning.  I found out that afternoon that I was the choice tenant.

After dinner I told everyone I was moving out the following weekend.  Stupefied, Mary exclaimed, ‘I didn’t even know you were looking!’ She appeared hurt.  Aries grew quiet.

Later that night Mary would accuse Aries, faulting her for my decision to leave.

Six weeks of secret pleasure would come to an end.  My love was right there, centered within Goliath’s grasp.  I would love Aries, breathe her in and hold her, take as much of her as I was given, indulge in her presence, all  beneath a watchful eye.  Goliath’s laugh was hearty that night but mine was longer and far more satisfying. 

Continued on Sunday June 19^th 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

A Child of Goliath

EXSURGE; Domine, et intende judicio meo:

Deus meus, et Dominus meus, in causam meam.

Effunde frameam, et conclude adversus eos qui me persequuntur.

Sometime before Aries’ sixteenth birthday, Mary received a letter in the mail. Anonymously written it stated something to the effect that a rumour was going around about me and if care wasn’t taken, the rumour could be damaging to Aries.  I’ve never really cared what strangers thought of me but a rumour affecting Aries? That bothered me.

Mary handed me an envelope for review.  She searched my face as I read the typed letter which was short.  Did she think I knew who wrote it?  Mary and Dick were thinking that a friend, who was a legal assistant, might’ve authored it.  I noticed an error.  There was no way this friend whom I also knew, would let any correspondence leave her hands with a typo in it, mysterious or not, she was meticulous by nature.  Whoever wrote this cared more about content than about correction.  Whoever wrote this was Portuguese.  Being Portuguese myself I understand the culture.  In my mind, it made sense.  No one but a Portuguese person would care that much about a rumour, so much so, it compelled them to write an anonymous letter.

One night shortly thereafter I got home to find my mother awake.  The rumour, suggesting I was gay, had somehow reached my mother by way of some people from her church community (insert smile here).  I thought this was funny when I  experienced it, recalling it now, I find it even funnier.  I had some explaining to do.  There was little to be said however, I knew nothing concerning the rumour or the letter.

Mary and the family lived across the street from a Portuguese bakery.  After this incident, every time we went there I would stare the good folks eye to eye, daring, challenging them to say anything to me.  Could any of them have written that letter?  It was plausible. 

Events following Aries’ sixteenth birthday would bring us together and pull us apart in turn.  I noticed her fading away, yet somehow, she moved closer in to me.  Her beautiful golden eyes betrayed worry, something was on her mind, something she could not say, dared not say.

Arriving home late one night I expected everyone to be asleep.  Of course, there’s no rest for the wicked.  Unlocking the door I entered my parent’s home to find my father a drunken mess.  Slow ramblings rapidly turned into wrath.  As usual, I stood there and watched him.  This was a little different.  You could feel it - he just wasn’t there.   As crazy as I’ve always believed my father to be there was something rabid about him this night, unhinged.  I continued up the stairs to my bedroom.  He followed. Some unholy fire was burning in him and his fury continued as he entered my room, hovering at the entrance.  Something interesting happened at that moment; I had an anxiety attack.  Anxiety generally brings you out of your body however in this case, it brought me into it.  All of a sudden this moment wasn’t about him, it was about me.  I moved towards him and shoved by to get out.  I was walking away.  Then he lost it.   He started chasing me. I took off down the wooden stairs, he lumbered closely behind. I had no time for shoes - I still had to unlock the door.  Once outside, I ran as fast as I could; cloaked myself, became invisible in the night.  I continued to run until I rounded the block.  Slowing down, I called Mary who’d send Dick to pick me up.

I spoke to my sister the next day.  My father, having lost sight of me, supposed me to be hiding nearby between the houses and cars.  He would look for me, stubbornly, until morning.

My soul, made an orphan that Easter, would find solace in the house of Goliath.  A child of Goliath I would be.

That night, a secret pleasure overtook me…Aries, I am near you.  I am here.

Continued on Friday June 17^th 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist

A Sacrificial Lamb

/Let’s walk on the road that has no end/

/Steal away where only angels tread/

/Heaven or hell or somewhere in between/

/Cross your heart and take me with you please/

/Don’t go/Please don’t go/Don’t go without me/

C’est la Mort

The Civil Wars

Upon reading my last blog my friend made a statement that I feel deserves explanation.  He said, “I’m surprised that you returned the letters to Aries.”  This blog is a fluid experience and I’ll let it go where it needs to go, in this case, it relates to the severance of my godmother/goddaughter relationship with Aries. It was difficult and it hurt.

Aries, like many teenagers, wanted a big party for her sixteenth birthday.  If anyone deserved a party, it was her.  As her godmother I strove to make as many of Aries’ wishes a reality. This, however, was Mary and Dick’s decision.  I was hoping they’d allow her this big moment. They didn’t care.  It was selfish and hurtful. Without explanation, I knew - they had given her enough.  

We dined out on Saturday for Aries’ birthday. Sunday I was invited over for some birthday cake.  Sitting across from me, I watched Aries’ unhappy eyes survey her family and a few other adults.  It was one of the saddest birthday experiences, not only for her but for me.  Her pain was my pain.  Although un-original, I gifted her with a porcelain doll fashioned in nineteenth century garb and written her a poem.  Heavily prompted by a guest, I read it out loud. 

When I finished, I walked around the table and gave Aries a hug.  She tucked her head into my neck and disappeared.  The poem was not beautiful, but against the backdrop of this event, my words might’ve been the only love she felt. This moment was sad.  The utter failure of her sweet sixteen was why she clung to me. 

Incubated in each other, the air around us thickened into silence before studious eyes.  They couldn’t speak, were ill at ease by our affection.  We didn’t care, this whole thing was heart-breaking. 

This moment, so private and naked, Goliath had to decide; bring her in closer, or eradicate her completely.  Luck would favour the first.

Aries and I have not spoken in recent years. We’ve tried.  In pain, I haven’t been the kindest person.  I suppose it’s a warrior’s true test and I’ve failed.  I know that. 

Four years ago she and I treaded cautiously the shattered mosaic of ‘us.’  Tip toeing, we emailed only a little.  In one of her emails she mentioned something which triggered a reaction in me.  Part of me was driven to say nothing for fear of losing her.  The other part was compelled to write what I felt.  It came out all wrong. 

Aries accused me of saying things to hurt her.  I was livid.  Me, hurt her?  When have I ever set out to do that?  Why would I ever take her power?  Who does she think I am?  I realized she no longer loved me, knew me, felt me.  Hurt her?  My God, I loved her, have always loved her. 

A few months later I called her to apologize, to explain my poorly written email and the fear behind it. As I began, she forcefully interrupted with, ‘no.’

An unopened letter marked refused arrived in the mail.  I was numb.  Months passed before I sent back a binder containing her letters to me.  They were her words, not mine.  I had no bitterness, nor was it done out of spite.  All these years I hoped she would return to me, all the while I would wait, absorb strength from a dream I had so long ago and a promise I made to myself, ‘…I would never leave her…she has never left me.’   It was no use.  My love wasn’t enough.

I witnessed Aries sacrifice her big moments, she rarely if ever got what she wanted.  Mary’s allowance of me in her home was her sanctioned gift to Aries.  There would be no party. They would give her nothing else.  What she had left, they would force her to give away.

In place of someone Mary didn’t like, Mary shuffled some pieces and positioned me as Aries’ new confidante, a situation she felt she could observe and control.  When Mary realized she was outside looking in, an architect of destruction was born.  Intent on dominion, I knew Mary would move the pieces again and shift Marci, Aries’ self-absorbed cousin, into my spot.  A pawn replaced and it was over, checkmate.  Now, family would be allowed in.  Feigning weakness as her strength, Mary manipulated the relationship between Aries and me.

Aries married a couple of years ago.  Randomly I came across some photos and was happy that I didn’t recognize her maid of honour.  Wait, I did...it was Marci.

I’d never have the chance to explain; I didn’t want you to risk sacrificing anything else.

I am her un-forgiven in exile, this is who I am, a painful reminder of nothing beautiful.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9SXvv559Ko

Continued on Wednesday June 15^th 2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist