Atlas wakes up at 5am, jumps into bed and snuggles me. He’s wet, but I’m too tired to move except to throw my arm over him and pray he’ll fall back to sleep. Peace, lasted all of ten minutes.
Sleep deprivation creates at atmosphere that’s blurry at best and tunnel visioned at worst. Quick to rise, de-escalation tactics take all my efforts to stay cool, calm and reasonably collected while I fumble through toast and a nappy change.
I make my coffee, roll a cigarette and head outside to watch the sunrise from the balcony. So far, so good. Atlas is giggling with his iPad, seated at the table and picking at his breakfast. Happy, lasted all of 10 minutes.
He doesn’t want toast, he wants something from the pantry instead except that’s not going to happen. Out come the fingernails – gouging and scratching and a temperamental defiance that escalates into a full blown tantrum.
Matty storms out of the bedroom, red-eyed and livid and puts his foot down. Peace, lasts all of another ten minutes before the pattern repeats.
I’ve had enough too. Gone are my attempts to keep the child’s mood on an even keel, gone are those feelings of inadequacy that I can’t contain Atlas long enough to let his father have a much needed sleep-in and so I take him to his bedroom, shut the stairwell gate and try to discipline the problem.
I fail miserably.
Snap! The proverbial shit hits the fan once again and this time, silence is a warning best served cold. Matty descends, a leg is slapped, a door is slammed and peace returns for at least an hour this time.
Meanwhile, I contemplate taking Atlas out of the house for a drive before he starts the cycle again. I panic. My clothes are in the bedroom, I’m not sure where the car keys are, will Matty approve, will Atlas lose it in the car anyway? I decide to wait a while longer. My jaw is sore from grinding my teeth.
Matty needs respite but I’m all there is and so we lurch from dawn to well into the early hours, exhausted and running on fumes.
Atlas is a cockblocker too.
The countdown to esctasy on hold for the indefinite future. Foreplay, fails to get either of us off the ground or high enough to move to first base, let alone dive in fingers first and squeeze one out. The conditions of our release barely blow off steam and the only thing getting hard, is life for the next two months, while we reassess the situation.
A temporary adjustment. Life is actually pretty good. Most days Atlas is on form and we make a great team but school holidays with a child with special needs, without any respite, requires strategy.
That niggling voice belies demons who whisper their disapproval. I don’t want them to hate her. It’s easier to hide away until she can return, find compassion for their mistrust.
She is too big.
The things she pontificates under duress, scare me. It is best that I learn to trust Hermes – to ask for something with a reason instead of stealing something without one.
Mourning.
Loss, tears open a hole — splits a scar further apart; destroying a perfectly sealed crust. Fragments of flaky skin scatter to the wind, shed a diatribe of unforgiving.
She moves in and out of the ether.
Flying through space and time searching for another wormhole, another passage to take her to Persephone, that damned alter-ego who dwells in the deep recesses of purgatory. Home is where her heart aches to return.
Demeter negotiates another extrapolation.
Manifesting a spiral vortex, she hones her parts and I wait for the impact to knock me off my feet — wake me up with a jolt of epiphany where I love the magnificence of my creation.
She does not belong to Hades.
Demeter is radiant. All the virtues I try to bestow; a culmination of strength and vitality and love to honour – my integrity in spades.
I am omnipresent.
Her mouth is shut preferring solace over a wailing lament that conjures a maelstrom of death and dying. I could do well to endure no more, wrath has held me bound.
Tonight Demeter ascends.
I return to myself and you are free to wander in search of true love and find your Artemisia, a perfect match for your Nemesis.
My ether box graunching & grinding through stargates shudders, misfiring synapses lurch from push to pull ascending descending traversing my self worth, mitigating losses tempering gains. I am giving in, my self esteem proving much harder to love and set free.
I’m trying to make peace my lover. Finding my path with you is unconventional at best excruciating at worst, leaving behind socially acceptable hopes & dreams settling in to formalities — contracts designed to pave the way; a gold lining to my pewter paradise on that long road to happiness. I stare into Aphrodite through my looking glass & blow her a kiss goodbye.
Skeleton’s eventually decay but demons still want to purge pain, set me up to fail tempt Narcissus to stray, to step away from his reflection & risk a coward’s death. I ask the Goddess for forgiveness trust my fate & fury & instinct to guide me. Psyche would lead me astray to plummet over the edge of reason — but Aphrodite will broker a deal.
Start over. My fossil fuelled forge will always find a way forward, transform blue light beams into fire, illuminate those pitchforks & burning crosses hiding in my ether; shadows that threaten to cast spells & incinerate whole galaxies, merely pseudo reflections of my reality. I choose you & take no prisoners at the same time, for I choose wisely.
There is no burden I cannot bear when it comes to you, how you see yourself is a reflection. We hold our head & hearts in their hands; their hands create a destiny for us both. We are intertwined & enlightened — a gift from God. Our souls recognise, accept & understand there is only now, the past is gone. The future is whatever we divine.
I love the way you light up a room with your presence and my heart.
I love the way you joyously cook for me and our friends; laughter combusting into spontaneous abundance.
I love the way you laugh and giggle and play the fool, running around the room screaming like a freaking fruit, with Snoop.
I love that you do your best with everything and everyone, everytime.
I love that your heart only wants to do good and focus on the future.
I love how you think positively about all of our obstacles and we work together to solve them.
I love your resilience and strength of character, even when times get tough – you find a way.
I love the way your face lights up when you plan a party, design a flyer and work the promo.
I love the way you DJ – making me and everybody dance, with huge smiles on our dials.
I love to see you in your costumes and watch you come alive.
I love seeing the happiness on your face when you achieve the almost impossible, frequently.
I love watching your facial expressions and that passionate rocking and rolling you do on your chair, punching your hands in the air, to your favourite songs.
I love the way you make me feel, holding my hand and casually putting your arm around me, no matter where we are.
I love how you give me a wake-me-up-call most mornings, and I feel your desire pressing against me.
I love the way you slip, and fall between my legs with that naughty, cheeky giggle.
I love the way you whisper in my ear and tell me I’m sexy and beautiful and how much you want me.
I love it when you kiss me for no reason.
I love your sexy swagger and smouldering eyes.
I love the way you make me Chai in the mornings, and/or a cigarette and we slowly wake up together.
I love watching you shine.
*
On any given day, you give yourself to me in all your authenticity, with love.
You are the most awesome, amazing, talented, sexy, loveable man I have ever had the pleasure to meet and call mine.
I dont know how long I’ve got you for, but the romantic in me hope’s you put a hippie ring on it and we mooch on into the future, forever.
“I think we’ve been put through the emotional wringer and there are only fraying threads left of the tapestry we once sewed together” JD Butler
Just like me to need a pacifier when the going gets tough but
it’s not all about me.
You’ve changed – maybe we’ve both changed, but not for the better. You used to care if I cried but
not any more.
I guess you’re strung out, over-worked, under-paid, under-sexed and looking for a way out in your Red Dead Redemption II,
outback adventure.
Maybe you also feel trapped? What if I left, left the house for you to rent? I can go anywhere to live
and start again.
Sydney, Melbourne, Perth perhaps. 6 months here, 6 months there (in New Zealand). Reinventing myself
is what I’m good at.
Jezabel is never too far away for me to find a way to survive. She never leaves me or changes. I can count on her
to do the right thing.
I’ll miss you. Everything about you. How wonderfully beautiful you are with your deep dark brown eyes. You are talented, loving and rich beyond anything resembling money.
I consider
myself blessed.
It’s time I moved on. I’ve reached a point where I don’t think we can offer each other the best part of ourselves any more. I think I hold you back from your true potential.
I think you resent not seeing your friends as often as you would like – cultivate those
friendships and opportunities.
I think you would feel better with money in your own pocket. I want to see you happier, less frustrated,
less aloof and less distracted.
When I met you, you were larger than life, full of happiness, generosity, love. You were loyal to me.
I think we’ve been put through the emotional wringer and there are only fraying threads left of the tapestry
we once sewed together.
I’m distressed. I’m trying to preserve the last of my sanity in order, to survive.
I’m concerned. I want to give you as much as I can for you to feel secure. You’ve worked hard and
I have no intention of ruining you.
I’m not like my ex because I love you – he never did.
I don’t want to see you cry, or curl up and die inside,