Tag Archives: control

Karmic Debt

With the acknowledgement that the past resonates, the question, then, becomes WHY does it resonate?  If one believes in past lives, that we live again and again, learning things, making up for things we did incorrectly the last time, with the goal of becoming something better with the passage of each lifetime, then one could argue that the past resonates because those are the life lessons that we failed previously.  A second chance, per se.

But in my life… in this one… the past resonates often.  And it’s not the past lives… it’s this one.  Things echo.  People walk in and out of my life, more people come in to take their places, and the replacements resonate the way that the other ones do.  It’s like déjà vu.  I told someone not long ago that time is a funny thing.  It echoes.  It throws itself up in the air time and time again, the pieces get re-mixed, and then they all fall back down again.  In a new order, yes, but still the same old pieces – a reflection of what was.

I’m beginning to understand that now, particularly with what I’m doing with the men in my life.   Where two have now left, two others have taken their places.  Not in the same sense, no, but let’s start at the beginning.  I have only ever been madly in love with a man three times in my life.  There was my first fiancé, years and years ago.  When that ended, it took me months to recover.  There’s Buttface.  Who built that one up for a decade.  Getting over that, over it entirely, took forever too.  And then there’s Botboy.  Who I never really truly met, but it’s hard not to fall hard for someone when you speak to them daily, for hours out of the day, and when (whether they’re being real or not) they are everything you’ve been looking for for forever.  They have these things in common:  I was smitten with each of them in their time.  It also took an inordinate amount of time for me to recover from the fallout when it was over.  From the first two, I have recovered.  From the third… I’m mostly there.  It still pains me now and again but I am taking the pieces of that that I can salvage and making those mine.  Letting everything else go.

But that isn’t enough for Karma.  At least not for me.  See, she’s a bitch.  When I do something wrong, when I fuck something up, she makes me do it again.  And since, apparently, I am on my last life before I get to do “something else”, that means that whatever damage I do in this life, I have to fix in this life too.  So the past resonates.  Hard.  I have lessons to learn and no time to learn them in.  It’s like crunch time for finals.  It’s extreme.  But I’m dealing.  Anyway the two in question this evening are Buttface and Botboy.

I am not a bad person.  But I do like control.  I do like stability.  I do like to plan.  I like to know where things are going, what I am doing, and while I realize that you can’t plan for everything, christ, I try anyway.  So we’ll start with Buttface.  Ten years.  We waited to meet for ten years.  When we met, we tried to make it happen.  I believe he wanted it as much as I did.  But we were also both freshly divorced.  Things fell apart.  I don’t have enough words to go into detail here, but suffice it to say that out of a need to control, out of a need to understand, I suffocated him.  I was much younger, of course.  I didn’t realize what I was doing and I didn’t understand that I was killing from the inside what I was trying so hard to protect.  Things ended between us nastily.  My friend that I’d had for a decade was suddenly gone.  I was left to recover.  That was painful.  An impossible task, really.  But I did it.  We had one more small affair, casual that time, and then decided that we were better as friends.  We are friends to this day.  But it’s a hard won friendship.  There were years where we did not talk.  Long years.  I learned some things.  Hard won lessons, but I learned them.

Buttface = Metalhead

Enter Metalhead.  One of my best friends.  He’s had a blog… anyone who doesn’t know about him can go back and read about Rule Breaking.  But we’ve been friends since I moved to Florida.  He’s been one of my best friends through all of this.  We’ve had our periods where we didn’t talk, too, but that’s been more out of business than out of anger or frustration.  However it’s been interesting, at the very least, since we started sleeping together.  I’ve gotten to know him on an entirely different level, which is normal when you go from one level of friendship to another.  But it’s been bizarre too.  He doesn’t look anything like Buttface.  They are opposites right down to their height and hair color.  But their mannerisms, the way they approach life, the way that they respond to things… those things are exactly the same.

At first it was funny in a way, but then, as things progressed, as Metalhead started distancing himself, I started seeing things happening again.  I wasn’t controlling him… not at all.  I was keeping a lid on that, because after Buttface, I know better.  Hence the Karmic test.  Or part of it.  But I realized something else, too.  That I did not want carnal desires (I’ve always wanted to use that phrase!) to disrupt my friendship.  He was gone for a week, taking care of his kid.  I missed him, I missed the company.  I do not want a relationship with him, but I don’t want to lose my friend either.  And so, over drinks last night, we talked.  And we sorted it out.  He understands I’m not looking for anything else (because apparently he was worried about this), I told him that if this was going to fuck up the friendship we’ve built then I’d rather just stop it, and then we agreed to continue on for the time being with the way things are.  Airing out dirty laundry, communicating, that’s what friends do.  They don’t sit around and wonder… not communicate… not grow a pair and just ask (the way I refused to do with Buttface).

I apologized to Buttface for the past.  I squared things away with Metalhead (who still stays over, hangs out, is accompanying me on a trip I’m taking in a few weekends, yes we’re still having an affair because neither of us want to stop right now).  Everything is good there.  Karmic debt paid.  Hopefully this is a lesson I don’t have to continue to do over.

Botboy = Jesus

But there’s another one.  Botboy.  And it’s not the same lesson this time.  Not one of control.  Because with deployments, you realize you have very little and you learn to be okay with that.  Or you move on.  Deployment (his) taught me patience.  It taught me that I can’t always do things my way.  I am good with that.  What it did NOT teach me was not to jump into things headfirst without looking at what I’m jumping into.

And so, I’m doing it over.  There’s another overseas boy.  This one I call Jesus.  Because he physically looks like Jesus.  Same name as my first ex fiancé (the only other one of those).  Different country, but a similar situation.  The food sucks, the smiley faces are the same in the chats, the boredom is apparently the same, the movie watching, all of that is reminiscent.  And all of those things are minor.  Very amusing, but minor.   He doesn’t play with TransFormers, but in the midst of all of this, TransFormers are everywhere… on billboards.  On the freaking television.  On the back of vehicles I randomly pass in the road.  And then there is the girl.

I wrote about her.  I wrote about the girl that at least played some sort of part in the Botboy breakup (The Bot is the blog to reference for that one).  His ex wife, the one he said he did not want, but who wanted him.  The one who kept stalking him.  Torturing him.  Who had made his life more difficult than it needed to be and who, by proxy, made mine difficult.  With Bot, I chose to jump in anyway, knowing she was there, knowing he wasn’t over her, knowing that there was likely to be some baggage (though not knowing how much).  I made that choice.  I made that choice and then what looked like it was going to be okay, ended up not being okay.

Jesus has another woman in his life, too.  The same age (roughly).  And she looks just like her.  I mean these two women could be sisters (though they are not related to my knowledge).  And she says she loves him.  Red flags went off.  Immediately.  Because we learn, don’t we?  We learn from the past.  I had my heart stomped on, I wasn’t expecting it to be stomped on, because I trusted Bot.  It’s not that I don’t trust the new one… Jesus.  I have no reason not to trust him, but I don’t have a reason to trust him either.  And that’s the point.  We’ve not met face to face.  And we won’t until he gets home.

I’m not getting invested.  I can’t.  I’m intrigued by him.  But the girl may be a dealbreaker.  And what I have to learn this time is to let it go.  To let it develop in its own, if It’s going to develop, and leave it be if it isn’t.  I say this isn’t a lesson in control, and it isn’t for the most part.  This is a lesson in patience.  In waiting to see what happens.  In not jumping the gun out of desire.  And I’m learning it.  While it is a painful one to learn, because it is so reminiscent of what I’ve just gone through – what I just began to get over – over the last few months, I’m doing it.  Because I have to.

I have to learn to stop putting the cart before the horse.  I have to stop jumping the gun, I have to stop trying to make those choices for him.  Did we talk for six hours?  Yes.  Did I have fun?  Yes.  But that’s all it is right now.  And that’s all it’s going to be right now, because everyone has free will.  If he wants the other woman, he should have her.  Botboy did not want the ex wife… but I believe he did find someone else, much as I did not want to admit it for awhile.  So this lesson… this one is just letting time play out.  Let the chips fall where they will… let time do its rearranging and just to be okay with whatever design it chooses until it decides to throw them up again.

Karmic debt isn’t completely paid on this one… it’s a work in progress.  But I got this.

Patience

I am losing my patience.

I never had much to begin with.  I’m the girl who wants what she wants, when she wants it, and if she can’t get it easily, she fights for it.  And while you might say that that is a form of patience, I disagree… fighting for it is my way of making sure I get it.  It’s progress.  It keeps me busy.  I am DOING something about it.

I am a control freak.  A control freak that has no patience.  A dangerous combination.  At least I’m not short tempered anymore.

It’s really quite interesting what goes on in my head.  On any given day, it’s full of plans for the things that I want and a strategy for making sure I get them.  Those plans float around alongside knowledge of all the things I DO NOT want to do – and ways to get out of having to do them.  Those swirl, clockwise, around a layer of frustrations I’m repressing because I do not want to lose my temper.  All crowded around a nexus of recognition – recognition of things, circumstances, situations I cannot control.  And the nexus often feeds back into my desires.  It’s a vicious cycle.

I can identify it.  I can’t navigate it sometimes.  My third eye can weed through it… at least it can see the eventual outcome of some of those uncontrollable circumstances.  But, as any sensible person knows, the third eye is fallible in the sense that it can see what IS and what WILL BE solely on the basis of current circumstances.  She is awake, and she is talking, and I am listening, but I am ever-aware that things change, and they change often, and that sometimes the things that change are changing due to circumstances beyond my control.

And having no control frustrates the hell out of me.  I don’t need full control.  I don’t need to have my hands on the steering wheel all the time (and I really do hate driving).  That said, if I’m not the one driving and I’m not the one navigating, I at least need to be able to call the shots on when I get lunch and when I get to have a pee break.  And when I don’t get that, though you’ll never see it, on the inside I’m the annoying little kid that kicks the back of your seat while you drive screaming, “Are we there yet?”

“Oh but you are navigating, and driving, it’s your life after all,” you’re probably saying.  But am I?   I am not a hermit, I do not live in this world by myself.  And because of that, I do not have utter control all the time.  On a more simplistic viewpoint, I don’t control the flow of traffic… I sit in it, just like everyone else, for some unknown reason.  More personally (and more complicatedly), some of the most intensive situations that I want to know the most about, and could really use some foresight on, are not solely up to me.  “If things stay the same, they’ll end up here,” she says.  But things DON’T stay the same.  That’s not how it works.  She doesn’t have an answer to that.

I live my life, but I also sit on the sidelines as an observer.  It’s like being the lifeguard of my very own swimming pool.  I am in the middle of it, swimming, but I am also in the chair with a whistle in my hand, ready to call it if I see some sort of infraction.  I should stop being so paranoid.  But then on the other hand, if I fire the lifeguard, and shit happens, there’ll be no one to tell me to get the fuck out.

The third eye has been restless lately.  I’m reminded of a quote that I read about the pineal and the third eye… someone who had awakened theirs described it like this:  “When it’s good it’s wonderful, when it’s bad it’s horrid, when I turn it off I am lost.”

I don’t know what it would be like to have a pineal that is not working.  Mine never turned off.  It’s how and why I can see what I see and do what I do.  But she’s been bad lately, and it’s been horrid, and it’s not even PMS week.  Which is why I’m paying a little more attention than I usually do.  I can’t turn it off… when it’s off, as I’ve said in an earlier post somewhere, it’s like being out in the middle of a crowded room, completely naked.  And anyway, likely it’s telling me that something is out of whack somewhere, or that something big is coming, and I need to prepare myself for it.  It just won’t tell me exactly what.  And so, blinded by the vagueness, I don’t know what to identify.  Though I have a few ideas.

I need patience to try to figure this out.  I need patience because I think a lot of it will turn right side up again very soon, in one way or another, and the only thing that is going to be able to rectify some of it is time.  But it’s gnawing at me in the same way that my once broken ankle gnaws at me when it’s getting ready to storm outside.

And my patience is wearing.