A wayward Soul

Here I am, playing with tarot cards and listening to the saddest indie rock music made...

I can't help but wonder where I go wrong with love. One can only watch Sex In the City so many times. Maybe the standard love language has changed. The lost feeling I have inside when I think of how my relationships end, is a cause for concern. Of course the average trust issue syndrome is to be accounted for. Lets not forget that online dating is the new wave. I once read an article that all the brick and mortar retail shops will eventually turn into physical dating sites. I for one would not go against that, seeing how I am not fond of the social media hook ups. Then I tell myself, this is why you are single. You have to go with the times, ride the wave, be one with the edge of life. Then I remember I am in my thirties and social security is getting scarce. No matter how many times I shuffle my cards and change the spread, one thing is for certain, they don't stutter.

I have a love issue, and it is the fact that I am a sucker for it. As thoughts travel to and fro recollecting the deceit my hurt has felt, I drink more. Pick up my cards and shuffle, then change my playlist. Should I just go through my phone and call a random number to start a pointless conversation? Nope. I continue to brainstorm on how to approach this new journey in love. To drink or not to Drink turns into, more or more less.

It's not like I can't find a quickie with a biggie, but I need love like LL, and I could care less if his name starts with a Jay...Okay! Then I wonder to myself, how many more bottles can your liver take? How can women sit and go without a man's body for months? I won't try to understand their strength, but I admire their keenness for proving a point. Maybe my keenness for proving my love to a man is the problem. No, that could not be the case when I enjoy the chase. You imagen a guy playing hard to get just to make his toes curl soon after. I sometimes think that my confidence in my sexual abilities are intimidating to most guys. I am a free spirit when it comes to my sexuality.

I have hurt some feelings in my days. I do not do is fake the play for the other team to win… another nope! As I sit here pondering on my love life, the vibe switches a bit. I am now feeling like a little bad ass! Truth be told, I am sort of proud of myself. One has to be a Queen B to pick them up and drop them but still maintain her dignity.

Then I remember I am sitting her with a bottle of wine, tarot cards, and a melodramatic playlist. Again, where did I go wrong? Laughing at yourself feels better when you're alone. I can't help but think that I should write the guy a letter and let him know how I am feeling. Death or Destiny? If my feelings didn't matter before, what would make them count now? Why wasn't I the A type chick that cries and screams, threatens to kill herself because she could never love another? I think my stoicism bothers guys, they think that I am heartless. I've been called a narcissist, which at this point, they may have been right.

Was I ever really involved in the love realm of my relationships? If it takes 10,000 hours to master a craft, was it just my crafty ways that convinced them so? The guy that broke my heart and fed it to his new chick, made me realize, I have a lot to learn.

Am I even ready to petty down to pony up? A guy told me that I needed to live alone. I was confused for a minute, then I laughed. I am like the rescued puppy that gets too excited and pisses your sofa when company comes around. As hilarious as that may look, it doesn't feel good. You notice when you instruct the dog to sit, it first lowers its head in worry, but the tail is still wagging? Sometimes, the pestering things in life never go away, although we still approach life with a smile. I was that puppy in this relationship. No matter where we went or who was around, I pissed myself metaphorically speaking. I became weird and unadventurous to this guy.

The only time he saw me excited was in a club, the DJ played rap music from the nineties and I couldn't control myself. I got lit as they say… The memories make me drink more, but I opened this bottle yesterday, so it's getting low. Thank goodness they just passed prop 207, that allows the residents in Arizona to recreationally puff pot. Chasing a high that will heal the wound of a broken heart can become a burden. But I have lived long enough to recognize a boundary before I cross it. My playlist changed from melodramatic rock music to indie rap with a hint of emo-rap. The room is now a bit chilly from the cold breeze blowing through the air conditioner in my hotel room. Was being alone my demise?

I try to meditate and see if I can conjure up images from my past lives. I had a dream where I was fetching a pail of water at night. There were lanterns and wagons everywhere. The oddest thing about the dream was, I still looked like I do now.

To believe in soulmates or friends with benefits? I can't shake this guy to save my wits. What was it about him? I can go days with not talking to him, then boom, I have a dream. My good friend laughed at me when I said I was avoiding this guy. He thought it was funny that I kept having dreams of him, and so did I. One may think that I had daddy issues the way I chased this guy. I had to realize that he did satisfy my inner child, although the pain of losing my father can and will never be replaced. I know my lack of social abilities is the main culprit to my failed relationships.

They say communication runs the nation but I get tongue tied. This guy was a fast talker and a well thought out machine most of the time. Most guys who are good at playing the game were patient and he was indeed. I always equate patients with love. I am a very impatient person, and I am bad at love, as it seems. He doesn't know that I am as broken as I am. Playing it cool was a favorite fun time for me. I cry at night and twice in the morning, trying to scratch the surface to change. Could this be a sign that I lack self love? I think I am cute. This guy took a part of my ego that I didn't know was real. I guess the straw was me visiting him in his state, and him leaving me a sleep to hang out with another female during his birthday. Then posted her all over his timeline while I was still in his presence. That was a clear indication that I lost the game. To think about it, was I even playing the same game? Probably not. Love may not be a game, but one thing it is not, is for the faint at heart.

Well maybe this new journey on what love is for me, turn me into the Queen of Hearts!

to be continued...