Ready to start again…

My hair is now a decent length, able to fit in a ponytail or a french braid like the best of them.  Like my locks I’ve come a long way.  And this is no relapse.  It is now safe to say that after a few false starts I am now ready.  Months of work and seeking, healing and venting, laughing and growing have flowed in a single stream.  These labours of love will not be wasted, not be put into the foundation of just any old thing, or be invested in the future of any old person.  My pearls will not be cast to swine.

He would have to be a star to pull me out of my paradise and into his heavens.  His heart would have to be made ready and swept clean of any other woman’s stuff.  No residue.  He would have to be prepared.  Prepared to adore every strand, even the three grey ones.  Prepared to hold me high and say with pride “she’s with me”.  Prepared to ride out tough times and bad moods, cramps and cravings, bad jokes and busy days.  Prepared to be part of my support system and be fiercely supported.  To worship my God with me and love me second only to Him.  To husband my home and father some of God’s masterpieces.

No small job description.  Big shoes.  But who’s waiting?

The Singlestream will continue untainted.  My essence is what it is no matter who is nearby and no matter who I love.

relapse #2

The day started with a nightmare. I was being stalked. I was in university, the university was behind my being stalked and attacked. I had already had a close call and escaped safely.

I came home scared. Couldn’t find my key. And there he was… my rescuer. My neighbour – in my dream. In real life – the reason I cut my hair last. WHY NOW?

In the dream I was digging in my purse and couldn’t find it. Searched and feeling the eyes on me in the darkness. My key. To my room, to my safety. A drop of sweat slid down my face and into the open purse. And he appeared. Right when I needed him. With a key.

His accent was melodic, his smile was hopeful and sincere, and his features as clear as the day he kissed me goodbye in the early morning rain. In the dream he reached out to help me “I still have the key you gave me”. It was a key. To my home. In the dream at least… Perhaps to my heart in life.

I woke with a struggle, not wanting to leave the moment of safety and protection and the illusion of love, life and potential.
All day I battled with what I should write. I took my time. Struggled with myself. Toyed with ideas.

In the end I decided not lie. I have relapsed. Tears have fallen. And I’ve started all over again to forget.

Forgive me.