I didn’t sleep last night.

I tried but its like someone pissed all over me and I could not get to zen which takes me to zzzzzzz.

Tonight might be like that as well.

Lately my insomnia has been money related.  Last night’s was not.  I know exactly what kept me awake last night.

I won’t discuss it though, instead I will tell you a story.

Once upon a time there was a little girl. She grew up to be an exceptional woman. The type of woman you fall in love with.  In between little girl and grown woman some really  fucked up shit happened to this little girl.

The End.

Except it is not the end.  If this was someone I loved the words would pour out of my exhausted fingertips at the same rate the tears flow from my eyes.  Not all tears are of sadness, sometimes they flow from anger.

My anger overnight and into this morning is immeasurable.  I want to burn the world down but I cannot. I have to bite my tongue, I have to smile, I have to pretend like everything is okay with me and nothing is further from the truth.

The story of this little girl is not done being written.  What I am learning though is the fuckery she’s lived through can’t be cured by love.  It can’t be cured at all, it can only be managed.  Olivia Pope is on hiatus until October though I am no Olivia Pope.

I’m just a girl, who loves a girl and a boy.  That love is strong and deep, but it is not enough.

Me not being enough is uncharted territory for me.  I am doing a shitty job managing it.

What do I want?  I want the girl to realize that because of all the fucked up shit she’s lived through her standard, her bar, is set so low that it’s allowed her not to see the snake on the plane.

Yeah, its time to open some motherfucking windows.

I resent being treated as his equal.  I am not.  I am not just superior to him, he’s not worth breathing my oxygen.  I’ve tried to understand, but I cannot.  I will no longer even make the attempt. It’s too painful.

You can’t explain how someone who treats you the way they do has earned a place in your life.  I rebuke that in the name of jesus, Peter, Paul & Mary.  Fuck, Justin Beiber even while I am at it.

He’s a low rent conman, amateur pussy hound, and a creep.  Your refusal to see that makes me angry at YOU.

I showed you he was a creep and you ignored it.  He’s showed you he’s a creep and you ignore that.  Now you ask of me to understand your need to give this creep my time and my ____ and expect me to grin and bear it.

No ma’am.

No Sir.

No.

You tell me that you want to take a ride with this creep. Despite my sanity, my recognition that it is the wrong choice, I swallow my own needs and my own pride and say yes. It is insulting to even ask it of me, but I love you so deeply I would give you almost anything.  There was no way to not give you this without being an asshole.  And in response to me shackling my inner asshole you ask of me well can’t I just meet you _____________ ?

NO. You may not.

Let me explain what that sound like when you say that:

I still fear that you will reject me Nicole.  I am still unsure of my place in your life so I am going to hedge my bets.  I am going to meet with this creep, who otherwise can’t be bothered to put in the time and the work, and “see” how it goes.  If it goes fabulous?   I am going to ask for even MORE time away.  If it goes down in flames like a plane from Malaysia, I will quietly ignore him.

 

NO.

Hedging your bets and not using your words is what got us here in the first place.  There will be no hedging of bets that I know about on my watch.

You need to commit one way or another and I am not parsing my words nor my behavior.  I will be waiting for you, frankly longer than I should have to.   Never the less I will wait for you. And after that my plan is to forget that the creep exists.

I will keep my word to you about that day which ends in Y. It is important that I keep my word to you.  I will not like it, if you insist, but I’ve given you my promise, and my promise to you is worth something.

Please don’t ask me for more.   I don’t know that I can say yes, and the idea of saying no to you wounds me.

 

So I will wrap this up with that same song you once used, one of those times, when the creep was being creepy, and you needed

 

Yeah…. it didn’t get past me.  Very little does.  You know that. And now you know that I’ve  lost my religion about this.

The creep fed you a line after that and it was all smiles until the next thing he did, in that long string of things he does – and keeps doing.

I can’t keep watching  – we need a resolution.