Don’t Text When You’re Drunk

I blame laughter and Sauvignon Blanc;
Friday night, an inept DJ.
I wonder how you read my misspelled words.
Did they whisper or shout at 2am?
Mute in the light; grey and painful,
Each idiom deciphered, pored over.
Now expectancy fills the space in my chest,
Heavy and humid like my damp flat.
Present residue, just as unwelcome.
Your silence is unfamiliar; jarring as a 10cc engine.
Immersed in the pounding silence,
I realise…it matters. It saps the energy to shrug.
Another minute goes by, void of you.

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Something’s Gotta Give? Hell Yeah!

I rely on others for my self worth. There; I admit it.

Instead of trusting in God, or even seeing this time as a journey to strengthen myself, and maybe get to know myself again, I’m waiting for text and FB messages from a man!?

Am I completely out of my tiny little mind?

I’ve actually known this since I was about 18 years old, but have never had to confront it – as I’ve never been without a boyfriend. Or, more simply, I’ve never been without male attention. But now I’m 35, and the admiring looks and comments are few and far…so very far between. How very shallow and sad i really am.

I read Psalm 23 today – by chance because i picked up my ‘Everyday with Jesus’ at the wrong place. ‘He restores my soul’….Do i change myself, or accept who i am; settling to the fact that i can only ever be who i am? Mistakes and f*ck-ups included? He must accept me for who i am…? Right? Or will he change me?

But, I’m continuing to suffer from the same kind of adversity in life. And my world collapsing around my ears must be the clue (something’s gotta give!) I need to change the way i behave, think, and act, because I’m guessing i won’t move forward if i insist on continuing to keep my life on this track, refusing to learn the lessons life is trying to teach.

I know that unless i ‘hand it all’ over to Him…i will continue to make the same mistakes. I’m settling to the fact that i married the wrong man. (obviously). And although it hurts like hell, i’m finding comfort in the fact that ‘it was only’ five months worth.