Resurrected

Special thanks to Addie and Emily for their comments of encouragement. I apologize for leaving things as I did.

It's been awhile, like always. I will not give my word but I will promise to try. I admit, I've missed this, I've needed it but couldn't find the courage to return. Strange as this is the place I've always felt so safe. I suppose the obstacle wasn't dealing with the after-math but the judgements placed on me when I say that The Cat and I are still together. I wasn't strong enough to handle those criticisms properly and I know the thoughts of how could you?... what are you thinking?... he will do it again... or various forms of the like will cross some minds. I figure as much as that is what I would think.

The confrontation was anything but easy. It's been so long that I've whisked the details under the carpet but I remember that and how he stood outside (because I blocked his entrance) hands deep in his pockets, eyes to the ground shuffling his feet like a boy who had been caught stealing money from his dad.

It took some time but I'm okay, we're okay and he hasn't turned into a repeat offender. In fact, he's been a pussy cat. Today is our first year anniversary.

Violated

Sexual assault isn't very pretty but compared to 'rape' and all the violent connotations connected to 'rape', 'sexual assault' is an easier pill to swallow or so the woman on the other end of crisis line suggested to me and I agree.

For years I fantasized about being raped. It was my dark, dirty secret. Something about losing control, being forced was hot to me. It's not hot any more. I will never fantasize about it again because I've been there.

There may not have been any violence, force or threats but I did say I wasn't ready yet he did it any ways. I did say I wasn't comfortable with his brother downstairs yet he pushed for it and pushed for it until I gave in. This happening with someone you love and care about who was supposed to love and care about you feels worse than if it was with a stranger who had used violence.

I'm so lost, confused and extremely hurt that this happened. The morning after he left to go moose hunting, today was the first I heard from him in 3 days. I had a feeling it was him when the phone rang and let the voicemail pick it up. Hearing his recorded voice sent me into tears, I couldn't bare to listen.

It's hard to talk to people and act like every thing's alright. It's exhausting. Mom can usually tell when some thing's wrong just by my voice, she hasn't said anything yet. I guess I'm great at faking it when it really matters.

I'm scatter brained. I don't know what I'm going to do.

Googling the Future - D'OH

I have realized the true importance of thinking before I speak. I am so grateful the cat is away or he would've heard my premature wrath of fulishness and a whiny, needy brat I would've made myself out to be and for good reason.

Today I have asked the question on Y!A (the answers I received being less than reassuring which brought me to tears), reflected on my needs and what I really want out of this relationship and did some soul and Google searching as well. Yes, I Googled 'workaholic boyfriend' and what I found made me pull a Homer Simpson and I smacked myself in the head for being so pathetically juvenile. Whoever would've thought Google could save a relationship?

What I previously thought wasn't enough is more than sufficient. Hey, I am a woman. I have the prerogative to change my mind more than once and back again. When I look at all those things now I see his effort. I'm not involved with no doctor who is on call 24/7 and works crazy hours. The cat is here for almost every meal and almost always helps me with the dishes. He's home every night at a fairly reasonable time. He includes me when possible. If I can go too he asks whether it's a afternoon trip to pick up lumber or around the corner to the hardware store. I know that when I really need him he will be there - no matter what he's just a phone call away. What he does really is for us. He may not be home to do the kind of things I would like to do but he still comes home. That's my compromise. Giving up the small things for the big things in the future.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

It's 'ot in 'ere, b'y!

I have a confession. Time to loosen up the tie and wipe my brow. I have lied to you. When I said "I wouldn't have it any other way" in my last post I knew even as I typed it it wasn't true but I didn't want to come off as needy or expecting too much from the cat knowing this is the way it is. It's the life style and it's not going to change, I realize that so I have been doing some serious contemplating.

The cat left early Sunday afternoon to go moose hunting. Being on my own and being alone is nothing new although the bed is awfully big for just me. There is no set time for his return. No date to look forward to. I'll see him when he gets here after he gets what he went looking for.

"If we were together all the time we'd get sick of each other." I suppose part of that is true but every relationship needs some time and with our lack of it I feel like I'm drifting. I know he loves me and he tries in small ways to make up for his absence but it's just not enough for me. The only time I feel close to him is when we're sleeping.

I want to be able to wake up in the morning and on a whim say "lets go some where" and he be completely up for it but I know he'll say he has too much to do. Any place I wish to go I will go alone. Any thing I wish to do will be done alone. I want someone to share and experience life with, not enjoy it single handily and tell him about it afterwards.

I have invited the cat to join the boys and myself on our walk to The Pond. He declined to see his boys. I asked him if he would be interested in going hiking with me. "Sure, when I get straightened out." He's still crooked. Over a month ago he said we would take the boys to Fogo Island when he got back from his week long fishing trip in Bonavista. I still haven't seen Fogo.

"You're hardly home..."
"What I do is for us. I thought you understood."

I do understand. I understand that you do not have time for us nor have any desire to make the time unless it's on Sunday. I understand that I love you but I'm not happy.

Sundays are the Cat's Meow

Sunday, the day of rest is taken very literally here in Newfoundland. Nothing more than leisure activities and the large Sunday dinner which is enjoyed around noon or after Church takes place on Sundays. Any voluntary labour is abolished unless of course its mandatory paid labour. Back home Sundays were just like Mondays. Lawns were mowed, laundry was washed and any thing else that had to be done was accomplished on Sundays, just like any other day. No rest, only work.

After a long hard week, Sundays are the only day most people take off to enjoy with friends and family. We sleep in but not too late as to miss our dinner of roast beef and salt beef, "titties" or potatoes, veggies - usually turnip and carrots, pea pudding, bread-like pudding and of course, gravy. The cat and I usually take a drive on Sundays and usually it is raining. This is our day together, one day a week where we do something other than what is needed to be done. Last Sunday with his brother and sister-in-law we went blueberry picking near his parents cabin.

Days and evenings with the cat have become routine. Only 2 months and already I'm using the dreaded "R" word. Sundays I look forward to. They are different, they are fun, they do not involve work of any kind although the cat sometimes speaks of it. During the week the cat calls himself busy, I secretly call him a workaholic however the work he does he receives no pay unless he is out at sea. Whether he's helping a buddy, his brother or himself to make a buck later on life with a fisherman is a full list of to-do's. Even when one task is completed and checked off another takes its place. This would be my only complaint and a complaint that will go unheard.

An outdoor cat you can not shut in. He craves the wilderness and the hard work it takes to survive, it's in his blood. If you must only know one thing about this kind of cat to understand him it would be that. There is no hope to change him, nor would you want to. It would break his spirit and only an empty shell would remain.

There is great gain in accepting this kind of cat into your heart. He is exceptionally loyal, caring and giving. When needed his time is yours. The little things are most important and the little things he does willingly without request.

While this life is still new and I am still learning - learning to accept, learning to adjust - I wouldn't have it any other way.

Begin Again

Summer magic.

That's what it was and will continue to be. As we raked in the grass we pulled in our love - close, bonded, meshed together in one big mess. As Fall breaches and Summer slowly fades away, another season and we begin again this time multi-coloured, multi-faceted. Stronger because of the downs, higher because of the ups and there were many many more ups. That's what life is about. Learning as we go, falling as we fail. Whether we pick our own selves up or with the help of an out reached hand we always begin again.

Love. Love. Love.

I still do not understand it albeit I am living it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and space divides. Too much absence, too much space and we become the unknown. 99% work, 1% play. So much for 50/50 yet I accept it. I admire his motivation, his drive, his eagerness to accomplish the task(s) at hand. Late nights and I wait. His drive drives me over the edge. I some times want to scream RELAX! Put your mind at ease for once, stop thinking and enjoy but I know joy comes eventually whether it's a midnight frolic in the sheets or a breath of salt water air in open sea. There's some thing for him, there's some thing for me and there's some thing for us.

He always comes home to me.

Ocean's Dream

His world now my existence
sea scape's and 'capades
Long-lined revolutions -
the circumference of a heart.

North west winds break down walls,
feeding off midnight rituals.
Could this be?
I wonder...
in the lingering after-thought

of a waking dream.