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Mountain Lions, Chihuahuas and 4 am...

It is 4 am...

This used to be a time that I was up and at ‘em every day but that ship sailed several months ago. Now I am up more like 5:30 or 6. It is quiet and dark and I feel so alone. I mean like walking-the-floor-with-a-crying-baby alone. I am not really sad or upset although I did just have a seriously fucked up dream which is what woke me up at this fucking time. Ok, maybe I am a little angry...

Of course the dream was about Lane. I do not know why my psyche hates me but I was doing really well. I was doing well with the ridiculously shocking news that he had a girlfriend. Is my ego really so large that it didn’t even occur to me that he had someone? Or did I just love him so much that I was blinded to the truth...he doesn’t and didn’t ever love me the way that I loved him.

So I woke up feeling sad, alone and now thinking of Lane because of course the fucking dream was about him calling me after I called him and saying that he was doing really well moving on until I called and now he is all fucked up. That was the normal part of the dream. Then he told me that he and this woman got into a fight where she pulled a knife...I said something like “wow, that sounds like a great trade up.” (See I can even be a bitch in my dreams). Then he went on to say that he was still working with his therapist...blah, blah, blah. Then I was distracted by the sounds of a mountain lion. I am standing there in an urban environment and the sounds of a mountain lion's call is getting louder and louder. I look up and this car drives by with a mountain lion stuck up under their car in the back. The mountain lion has a cat that it is eating and it is screaming and roaring as the car moves rather rapidly down the street. The lion then bites the head off the cat.

No I did not ingest peyote before I went to bed. What the actual fuck?

In the dream I tell Lane what I just saw because we are still on the phone. He listens for a minute then returns to talking about himself, this woman he is dating and his confusion. I begin to wander around in the dream and end up at the dream world equivalent of Friendly’s Ice Cream parlor on crack. It is a restaurant but there are all these circus mirrors that distort your image. I get lost on the grounds of this weird ass place and end up on what I think to be an escalator but is really just another fun house prank. You get on and the steps get shorter so you almost fall off the step as it goes up. Once you reach what appears to be the apex you head back down again all the while almost being pushed off each step as the steps move in and out causing one to be very unsure of your footing.

I finally make my way out of the restaurant and I notice that the entire outdoor area is filled with good looking men drinking beer and eating. I notice because none of them have wedding rings and well, they are all fucking hot. I am still on the phone with Lane. He is talking and talking and talking and I have lost the ability to hear what he is saying anymore because all I can hear is that he isn’t sure this woman is for him. That sounds bangs around in my head like bricks in a dryer.

I don’t remember who ends the call with Lane but we hang up and I am suddenly walking down a street in old Mexico with my friends Lisa and Theresa. We are walking their dogs. One of their chihuahuas goes and attacks another smaller Chihuahua. We separate the dogs, comment on how weird and out of character that was for the dog to do and then I wake up.

Maybe I am losing it. Maybe I am just going to go bat shit crazy. Maybe it is starting from the inside out.

So I try to go back to sleep but my weird fucking dream, the hole in my heart and a now racing mind have other ideas. I don’t fight the agitation, instead I get up and make it a cup of coffee and for a few quiet minutes my brain is content with being pacified with coffee.

I know what I have to do. So I break out my laptop and begin to write what I do not want to write...another piece about heartbreak when I am so fucking tired of writing about it. I want to move on. I want to fall in love with someone else. I want to not think about Lane ever. Yet here I am left to sort through the very fucked up manifestations of my head. What I am left with is just lots of questions...

Why can’t I move on?

Why can’t I let him go?

Why do my inner mental faculties hate me?

Why did I love someone so much that clearly didn’t love me back in the same manner and depth?

Why would I ever still want someone who treated me like he did?

What the fuck was the whole mountain lion thing?

What about the Mexican Chihuahuas?

What the fuck did I eat before going to bed?

Am I ever going to be able to move on...mentally, emotionally and psychically?

Am I doomed to an unrequited love affair to be my last chapter in loving someone?

Mostly what I feel is tired. I am so tired of thinking about him. Her. The fact that one of my friends knew for months that he was dating someone and didn’t tell me. What is it about him that has me so fucked up?

I have been in therapy for two years now and I still am not sure. Sometimes I think he is just the person I cast in the role of “love of my life”. It could have been anyone else I went on a date with that night. It was just him because he was there. Sometimes I think that this hanging on evinces my extreme levels of being fucked up. Further demonstrating that my therapist will be able to take that trip to Africa this year because she can count on me to fund it.

Mostly I am so frustrated with my seeming inability to let go. I mean really let go...for good. I feel that this has become the missing tooth for me. Remember when you would lose a tooth and your tongue would not leave the space alone? It just kept going there over and over and over again so much so that your tongue would just become sore from the effort. This is how it feels. I do realize that in writing that that it is possible that no one else does the tooth thing...or not very many people anyway. My inner critic calls me a weirdo but we will move on.

So I sit here in the dark writing, drinking coffee, angry at myself for feeling like I have returned to the front of the loop. The loop that constantly plays over and over again about him. I am interrupted by one of my suitors who is also awake and texting me at 4:33 am. What the fuck could he possibly want? I can’t decide if I care to know so I ignore him and continue to write.

I take inventory - I deleted his voicemail messages and stopped playing our birthdates as lottery numbers. I have been doing that for almost 4 years now. Every time I thought about not playing the numbers, I would become convinced that if I didn’t, those would be the numbers that would hit the jackpot....I finally let that go the other day and said to the man behind the counter “just give me a quick pick.” It really is the best method...I do so much better when I am not controlling and directing things...

So I have new evidence that I am letting go in ways that I heretofore have been unable. I am going to call this progress.

The dream is going to stay with me awhile. I am going to have to dismantle it piece by piece...not because I want to but because I have the kind of mind that is going to force me to. I am just along for the ride. I am sure though that when I get to the end of my analysis that I will be availed some new insight into my own dysfunction. So there is that...

Mostly I am alone with the quiet hum of morning not yet broken. The cats sleeping on me and my bed. The clicking of my keyboard the only other sound. I feel less alone since writing this down because I know I am going to post it and that links me with others - my fellow trudgers.

I don’t want to be possessed anymore. I think about calling the medium I met the other night for assistance...maybe she can help me get beyond this perpetual stuckness. Maybe she can help me by providing me some encouragement for the future. Maybe I is something new and different that I haven’t tried and at 4 am there is a whole new level of desperation to underscore feelings that are already hard to deal with.

This day I do not have any happy horseshit to post about where this had led me. I just have a whole bunch of questions on top of being really tired. Today I feel weak and lost and scared and lonely. I know it will pass but for now I am going to take it to my cushion...that is if I can get over my now irrational fear that a mountain lion is lurking out there somewhere...or a fucking Chihuahau that is going to attack me while I sit in lotus.

I know that I will get over the fear because I can think of nothing else that makes me feel more at ease...I must sit down on the cushion and just be with all these fucked up thoughts. It is my path through...hopefully.

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