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He walked out my door

I could tell

Like he did before

I had failed

To return no more

I did wail

He walked out my door

 

So what have I left?

What have I left?

Bereft, depleted

Again my life pattern

It is repeated

 

The hope, a new start

I stumbled

He broke a frail heart

I crumbled

Life comes apart

I’m humbled

He walked out my door

 

So what have I left?

What have I left?

A soul more fated

Again life leaves me

A bit more jaded

 

He walked out my door

He walked out my door

So what have I left?

He walked out my door

Dear sweet sister
What joy we have
Soul’s family united

In tandem
In unison
In harmony
We’ll sing

Through happiness
Through heartbreak
Through life’s trials
We’ll laugh

At this moment
At day’s end
At any time to come
Together

Dear sweet sister
Connection made
Spirit’s haven found

Never again to be alone
No longer misunderstood

Can an epiphany grow slowly, come to fruition over the course of time?  Maybe what I’m experiencing is more of an awakening or an acceptance?  Yes, acceptance.  The epiphany happened March 9, 2008.  It was something that had been rattling around inside me for sometime.  On March 9th, it flowed out of me in words.  I was finishing a post and at the end three lines that didn’t fit, spilled onto the screen.  They felt right.  Even though they were strange and awkward, I left them.

 

The awakening progressed from that date.  I had just the day before changed the theme on my blog.  The old tagline just wasn’t working for me and those three lines struck me as ideal for the website banner.  Now, I see them every time I looked at the site.  They wouldn’t leave me alone and they ended up in more posts.  It wasn’t a new idea.  Its always been there for me to realize.  I guess I just wasn’t ready.  I sort of marinated in the idea for a while. 

 

Oh, I would so much prefer the mystic of being a seeker . . . Those that are tormented or driven in their searches.  Their pursuits, so arcane and anguished, seem ever so much more consequential.  What a marvelous and romantic cloak to wrap one’s self in.  Unfortunately, that particular garment doesn’t fit me. Those things that I strive for, once attained, are never gratifying or satisfying.

 

Wanderer . . . Now there is a coat that fits me.  My wanderings have been more of a spiritual nature than a geographic one.  Though I have tried seeking meaning and truth, I have yet to find it in those places I have sought.  It is much more likely for me to stumble over meaning and have truth sucker punch me.  I seem to have to wonder at all I come across before I can assimilate it and make it part of the veracity that crafts me. 

 

The acceptance is now simple.  I’m not that which I had thought I was.  I am no seeker.  I am a wanderer and a wonderer.  I follow no path.  I have no real goal.  I question everything.  Mine is a spontaneous journey of discovery.  Fate, a better judge of that I must learn in this life, steers my course.  Karma provides me spiritual guides in the strangest of people.  Destiny is the only road map I have to follow.  Each new advancement, nothing I could anticipate, but in hindsight, the growth I truly needed to evolve.

 

 

So if you haven’t looked yet, the words . . .

 

Lost I may yet reach my goal

Without finding all that I seek

I may still be made whole

 

I know of one that uses the word compassion, but really doesn’t seem to know what it means. So . . .

Compassion – American Heritage Dictionary – Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.

Does a compassionate man send the following text messages?

“whenever u drive ur truck know, I had 9 women in it and one lives very close 2 u.”

or

“Guess how many hookers I had in your truck…”

or

“Can I help you find a nut house so u can b closer to your peers?”

or

“I guess ur dead baby is lucky 2 b dead. It is better off without you and your sickened rotten soul.”

Much of the rest are unprintable threats and attacks of a most intimate nature. I will not be approving the cruel, nasty comments he is now making on this blog. Yes, these are the words of a self-proclaimed compassionate man. Is it any wonder I would not want such a one in my life? If that makes me a hard-hearted bitch, then so be it.

With this post I close the door on what has been a devastation for me, but a valuable lesson. People are not what they necessarily present themselves as. Actions must always outweigh words in assessing what a person truly is. Con men often use their intuition and gift of gab to seduce, manipulate, steal from and destroy us. Rarely do the things they do backup their talk. I confess to having been a “mark.” Truly my shame is that I let myself be taken in by a handsome face and pretty prose. Never again.

Note to him: Please stop your harassment. The only thing still here is the property of EPS and they will be contacted as soon as they open Monday morning to make arrangements to either retrieve or dispose of it. There is nothing for you here. I’m onto your ruse, so just move on.

How was it I did not see
The ugly man in front of me

How was it I did not see
Before taking him into me

How was it I did not see
He never told the truth for me

How was it I did not see
Such malice would wrench my soul

How was it I did not see
My love he was to strip from me

How was it I did not see
The pain that he would wrought in me

How was it I did not see
With him, never was it meant to be

How was it I did not see
I was better off alone.

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