I’ve been wracking my brain trying figure out what to write this week. Thanks to the Holiday I’ve been allotted some extra time, my usual Sunday post is a Monday post, this week only! Come one, come all and read the show! Those of you who know me might be asking what the big deal is? I’m a painter after all and do make my own hours, but I am working to have slightly more regulated hours, a little closer to the norm, so that I’m able to hang out, go out and visit with all of you lovely, beautiful people with nine to fives. My life would be miserable without you! So, even though I sleep in a little later I still work the same hours, give or take an hour or two and am just as grateful for a holiday! 😉
I have recently been under a bit of extra stress. My regular daily life is relatively stress free, aside from crunching deadlines I have a pretty smooth life, I paint, hang out with friends, go to the gym and date (when the opportunity arises), but it seems like every few months I get punched in the face with something that I can’t ignore, that brings everything to a halt and knocks me to the ground. Some might call it celestial balance, I like to think of it as progress in motion, every punch is an opportunity to get stronger and perhaps even evolve out of the chaos.
I found out that a man that I had seen a few times was a married lying sack of shit, the Don Draper type, you know what I’m talking about. It wasn’t the first time that a man who was otherwise engaged tried to bed me, but was the first time that I was consistently lied to about it. I’m happy that I found out sooner rather than later because this guy, aside from his sack of shit, filled me with that kind of heat that sends you to another plane of existence and knowing myself as I do, I would have fallen so deep and possibly died from the heartbreak, had it continued. I know this sounds a little extreme, but alas, it’s the truth, I am a romantic an attribute that I greatly enjoy because all of the sorrows that I’ve felt over the years do not compare to the love that I’ve reveled in and that feeling I cannot live without.
A couple of weeks after this discovery I found a few lumps on my body. I went to the clinic and the doctor was 85% sure that it might be what everyone fears and referred me to a specialist. Double whammy. I was just starting to get over the whole married guy thing (which was a heartbreak in and of itself) and BLAMO you might have cancer! To all of you readers and non-readers alike, who’ve been living this life sans romantic partner for a length of time, it’s total shit to have to go through something like this alone. I kept thinking about how nice it would have been to have someone to hold me while I cried out my fears and then Mr. shit for brains would pop into my head and I would think, fuck the hell right off doucher, GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Take your sexy lips, confident stride, broad shouldered six foot stature back to your wife and leave me the fuck alone (yes this was said to myself in my brain. I haven’t heard from him since I confronted him via text so many weeks ago.)
I called my mother and she said those words that I was so desperately craving to hear, “You’re going to be ok. I don’t think it’s what they think it is, I can feel it, everything is going to be fine. And even if it is serious we are going to do what we need to do and get through this.” I asked her to come and visit, timing couldn’t have been better for she arrived Thursday night before the long weekend. By this point I had already seen the specialist who said that it didn’t look like what they thought it was but biopsied it just in case and took all kinds of other tests, some intrusive, some not so much. I got the results that Saturday. Cancer free. What a gift, what a relief, what a treasure. Time to celebrate, LET’S GO SHOPPING!!!
Given that the final stages of this saga came to an end this weekend, I’m still not sure what it is exactly that I have to learn from this. The married douche was a situation outside of myself and given that he wasn’t the first but most definitely the worst I have to ask myself what kind of energy is it that I’m putting out there to attract this? On a positive note, he was magical, for a very brief amount of time, I was enamored, totally smitten and loved every second of it! Aside from the cheating lying sack of shit doucher-ness, he was so very close to what I am looking for it was enchanting and for that I am grateful.
As for the cancer scare, what a surreal feeling, to be faced with your mortality. I’ve always prided myself on not being afraid of death, and I’m not. I knew that if it turned out to be really bad, I would forgo treatment, move to a tropical island somewhere and spend my remaining days in the sun by the ocean, signing and dancing until my death. (You might be able to forgive my dramatic flair if you remember that I’m an artist.) And yet, there was a sadness, I am still young, I have a lot of things that I’d still like to accomplish, I have not travelled the entire globe yet, I have paintings that I’d still like to paint, grant scholarships that I’d still like to start, people that I’d still like to meet, dancing nights out with friends that I’d still like to experience, a wonderful man that I’d still like to find and, if the stars align just right, a child or two that I’d still like to pop out.
Now that my health has been cleared and there are no more otherwise engaged men looking to jump my bones I awaken to a new day. “On to the next!” My brother always says. I cried with him over skype about everything and he told me that he wished he could be here to hug me, I cried more feeling a deep sense of pride for the man that my brother has grown into. And on to the next it is. My paintings are awaiting my brushes and new ideas are awaiting linen and furry handcuffs. My friends are waiting for the next dance partay and somewhere out there is a good man looking to meet me. My heart is open, I’m looking for you too, don’t give up, I’m not.