Thursday, December 1, 2011


Sophia winced as an image of loving two men at once filled her head, and the thought of having to choose between them. She breathed deeply to sigh it off as she sat on the back porch facing her territorial view of the hills, which were covered in green firs, hemlocks, and deciduous trees. Houses dotted the valley, and the view just below her porch was of her neighbor’s backyard, complete with a full garden and a small water fountain. She listened to the water fountain pouring water over the rocks and channels, as it recirculated and continued on in an endless and glorious stream. The sun was shining, and Sophia soaked it in as she contemplated the choice before her. “Love is not an easy thing to choose,” she thought.

She got up, pulled the garden hose across her small yard toward the large tree and her potted plants, and turned on the faucet. While spraying her one little fern, a single tomato plant, and a rosemary bush that had provided a few tasty meals already, she contemplated her estranged husband, and all the heartaches she had been through to keep her marriage together despite their distance. She missed him, but there was no amount of watering that would bring him back. He was gone, unreachable. She had moved across the country to heal and get away from all of the legal battles that had broken them apart.

She laid the hose down. “Sophia,” she told herself under her breath, “you’ve already separated from Drew… you really need to start dating or getting out of this house and get a life by now!” Her eyes reached west and spotted the Olympic Mountains in the distance, which lay past Seattle and across the salty water of Puget Sound. It would officially be fall in just over a week, but on the mountain peaks she could still see a little snow left over from the previous winter.

Far seeing was one of her gifts, but this one was disturbing her, because not only could she see the past and how it still affected her, like the cold snow on the mountain tops, but she could also feel the warmth of the sun upon her skin this particular day, which was the present surrounding her and blessing her with its rays, and lighting up the beauty around her. Suddenly the cold seemed far away, and the thoughts of a new love in her life seemed to emanate from an uncertain future… uncertain because she was not sure what she really wanted, or if it was worth the trouble and possible heartache.

Sighing deeply, Sophia picked a small weed flower that was growing beside the porch, and sat down in her camping chair once again. She absentmindedly started picking off the petals… then she caught herself, and started seeing each petal as a different man, alternating between Drew and another “faceless” and “nameless” man whom she thought she would fall in love with in the future, and then have trouble choosing between them. “Drew,” she said, picking off another petal, “or a boyfriend,” she said picking off another petal. She let each petal drop from her fingertips to the wooden porch deck below. “Drew,” another petal plucked off and landed. “My boyfriend,” but this time the petal dropped onto her tennis shoe. She stopped to look down at it. A deep feeling came over her, so trying not to notice, she threw the flower over the side of the deck into the bushes.

The thought of losing her husband completely was scary, as well as the thought of having to choose between a new love and an old love, not knowing what the future may hold for either of these men. “Bah!” Sophia said as she stomped into the house through the back door, “I don’t even know who such a boyfriend might be! I don’t even know if I WANT a boyfriend and have to be faced with that kind of choice!”

She grumbled and decided that getting back onto the computer and Facebooking, as was her favorite pastime, would be a much better choice right now than to think about men, let alone issues such as love. She had been living by herself for over 2 ½ years, with absolutely no interest in men or sex or relationships, so what did she need a man for all of a sudden anyway? She had considered dating, but was she really ready? She dove deep into Facebook and chatted with friends, caught up on the news, and enjoyed conversing with her many friends in her private groups. This was about as social as she liked it to be.

A week later Sophia was Facebooking when she engaged in a conversation with Sherman, one of her many acquaintances in the INFJ (personality type) group. She had been having fun, laughing out loud, and upon saying something she couldn’t even remember, she noticed he messaged her in private. Their conversation was so natural, and flowed so well together, that hours passed before she knew it. The next day they chatted in private again, and then he asked if he could call her on the phone. They talked for over two hours, and she found herself enjoying every minute of it!

The third night, she had a dream about him, and although nothing of any particular significance happened—he was just there, present before her in the dream—she realized she instantly understood his spirit at its deepest level. This was a good man, worth knowing, marvelously kind, and who needed to be loved, and was able and willing to give it in return, freely.

Over the next two weeks Sophia and Sherman talked daily, for hours each night, and texted on their cell phones throughout the days. They met up online within their Facebook group, and on private messaging, and also emailed each other. Their mutual desire to communicate and be in touch overrode any desire to request their own space. They absolutely enjoyed their conversations and time together, talked about business ventures, dreams and goals, and even about past relationships and their expectations and experiences in love.

Sherman’s lease was up, and his job was ending, so he applied for a new job that he got within a two-hour drive of Sophia; therefore, he planned to move to be closer to her so they could date in person. Sophia thought this was excellent because he was presently living several states away.

During his move, Sherman came through Seattle and visited Sophia, and they consummated their relationship by hugging upon meeting face to face, going shopping together, and finally, when arriving at her house, by him taking her into his arms and kissing her. Her heart melted! His touch was so gentle, and his demeanor so sweet, that she found herself falling in love that much easier. She had seen many pictures of him, but this was really when she noticed that their eyes were the same blue-gray color, and that they both had similar shades of brown hair, yet he was thin and she was pear-shaped. Sherman particularly liked the roundness of her bum and how her smile lit up when he said he loved her, and she was attracted to the way his eyes sparkled and how he could make faces and cause her to laugh a lot.

Sherman moved into his home and started his job, and they continued their relationship over the months, visiting each other as often as possible—every week or three—while video-chatting every night, which made it feel as if they were in the same room, live, making their actual distance seem negligible. When together, they would go to dances with friends, visit family, go swimming, skating, to the movies, and would make plans and talk about the future.

Sophia got a job, which came to her through a headhunter, in the exact same field of work—financial planning—that Sherman had gone into, and so they found their business goals coincided, and overlapped, just as so many other things in their lives did. However, they purposefully did not talk about the fact that she was still married, which actually bothered him a lot because he knew he wanted to be married one day. Although, neither of them were in a hurry, and she nor he knew whether their relationship would stay the same over the long haul, although the longer they were together, the better it felt.

One day, Sophia and Sherman took a walk in the park, and she spotted a little late-blooming flower. She suddenly realized that she had become so enraptured by Sherman’s attentions that she almost forgot about being separated from her estranged husband. Well, it had been on her mind, but since they were separated, it wasn’t an issue. But this little flower spoke to her very soul, because a single petal fell off and dropped, floating gently down, down, down… she shut her eyes, afraid to see where it landed. She realized that if things continued between her and Sherman, that she would have to choose soon whether she wanted to continue with him, or whether she wanted to try to get back with Drew. She realized she was already deeply in love with both men. Her intuition had fruited.

Her heart broke, and she took off running up the grassy knoll to the great oak tree near the middle of the park. Sherman ran after her, “What’s wrong dear? Are you okay?” Sophia, for the first time, felt a lump in her throat, and she didn’t know what to say. How could she choose between two men she loved? How could she let go, completely, of either of them, when she knew she could not have them both?

But suddenly—with that single thought of realizing she WOULD NOT ever have them both—it became easy to choose. Drew represented her past, and the love that was there, which had been broken apart when the legal case destroyed their family, their relationship, and their togetherness. The future was uncertain, although if she chose to wait, it most certainly would happen for them again one day, but years down the road. Sherman represented the present, and also hope for the future, and was someone she could hold and love now, and potentially for a very long time. She did not know the future, nor did she want to know. She only knew one thing. She had to make a choice, and choose she did!

“I’m okay honey,” she whispered to Sherman under the tree, its great branches reaching out over them like a protector, “I just realized something…” Her voice trailed off; he looked at her expectantly. She sat quietly for a very long moment, which seemed to Sherman to be forever. Finally, Sophia sighed a huge sigh of relief, reached over and grabbed a leaf from a twig, and dropped it over his head. It fluttered down, a slight breeze catching it and pushing it sideways, then it twisted back again, finally landing softly on his foot. Sherman was perplexed as to what she was doing.

“The universe has made it clear long ago, but I was too scared to see the signs,” Sophia insisted. She reached over to kiss his desirable lips, and she took him in her arms, as he responded in kind, holding her closely, tightly. “I have been loving two men at the same time, and I realized I had to choose between you and Drew… and choose I did!”

“Whom did you choose?” His voice trembled, almost afraid of her next words.

“I choose you.”

“You choose me?” Almost disbelief, yet great relief.

“Yes, I choose you. For whatever reason, the universe gave me Drew, but then took him away. I hung on for so long, waiting, but not one single thing has gone right in order for us to stay together. In the end, I realized that I had to move on, but it was so hard. When faced with the actual moment I had been dreading, where I had to give the final say on who to choose, I realized that it was not a hard decision at all, but easy.”

“Why was it easy?”

Sophia looked at the leaf that still lied flat on Sherman’s foot, reached down, and grabbed it, rolling its stem back and forth between her forefinger and thumb, causing it to spin delicately. She looked up into his eyes. “Because heartache… (sigh)… heartache has been replaced with grace, and love, and a peace that enters me when I am with you.”

The two lovers hugged, and kissed under the great oak tree, until the sun set about 45 minutes later.

When it was time to leave, Sophia took the leaf home and put it into a book to press it.

“Yes,” she said to herself, “and choose I did…”

Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Love and Loss, Love and Loss again, and finally Love…

Reflecting on the timeline of my life…

I am now 41 years old. Since age 16, when I first became a mom, I had experienced two marriages where one was on paper only (for legality’s sake), and the other was a mistake (trying to provide for my baby with the wrong person). I was young. Stupid. We live and learn. I don’t count these as anything but lessons learned. I no longer count them as “marriages.” They are gone… POOF! (These don’t count except as the original “4 MARRIAGES” writing mentioned below.)

Since age 21, when I met the man who would be the father of my children (and who raised my first son as his own), I was deeply in love. Yet the marriage had its problems, and after 10 years we divorced (when I was 33). It was a sad day, because I still loved him, but had always questioned whether it was mutual. The choices we made were not always the best ones. We learned, and today we live far apart, yet still co-parent our children. It is a beautiful thing. I am happy with this relationship as it is today, and grateful for the years we had together, and even more thankful for our children, who I am so proud of! There are many qualities in this “first” husband and still remember loving. I grew emotionally because of that relationship.

Then, when I met the man who would be the “husband and lover side of God” in my life, and would love me like no other had previously, it was easy to fall in love and stay in love. A dream and premonitions, and foretelling of events abounded in our lives, and brought us together. I dreamt of the desert greening up and rivers flowing through it. It was two years of bliss before things changed… before the vision commenced. I grew intellectually, and learned that I was worthy of being loved, through that relationship.

Then other circumstances of fate, much out of our control (the biggest premonition I had had in my life!), ripped us apart, much against our will, and tore into our life like a rabid dog from out of nowhere. The wreck of our lives was left to the winds. I woke up one day, after it was all over (the fight of our lives, which took 2 2/3rds years to go from the inciting incident to the climax) with my soul shattered like a clay vessel, and I had to try to pick up the pieces, but I remained in only one of them. Since then, I had to pull back, and reflect, and fully realize my loss, and begin to heal.

It took another year and a half before I realized I needed to get completely away from the very one I loved, in order to heal, because everything about him, and the lives we had to live apart, reminded me of the circumstances that led to that demise. I moved across the country, got a crappy job, and started over. It has been hard, but through circumstances of amazing synchronicity, and the love of my new friends, and being in nature, and surrounded by beauty (the VERY reason I moved, to have beauty and love and peace FILL my life) I have found the place I love to be.

I didn’t try to heal; I simply allowed it.

I learned to love just being ME, and realized what that meant, and who I am. I was completely alone, yet very connected. I had found my bliss. I was not perfect, and that was okay, because that was what it was really all about… full acceptance, wherever and however you are. The kind of depth of love we are willing to give to others, but rarely ourselves… to experience it directly from within, until it emanates without.

The timeline of my healing from the last two marriages, and those two loves, has led me toward a third love.

My latest writings (see below), this year (2011), showed the process of letting go of my last love (my 2nd real husband), pulling back, and finally letting go for good, in order to move forward into new territory…

May 22: CHOICES IN LOVE – What choice do we have when our lives are not our own? When those we love are taken from us? When we lose them, yet still yearn for them? We may not have the choice to control everything, but we can choose to love.

May 23: FOR YOU NOT TO YOU – I let him go, and it was for the best. In order to save him, I had to let him go fully. My thoughts were still on some last kind of ditch attempt to save him from these horrid circumstances. But would it work? Would it be in vain?

May 25: ARCHETYPES STORY – The story of what happened, how, and why. What our life was like during the torrid life we lived during “the case” that ensued into our lives. The legal case became the dry heat of the sandy desert chapping our lips, drying out our bones, leaving us to waste away in the blazing sun, with the blatant lie of “sex offender” written upon the nearby rock that would serve as the unofficial tombstone of our marriage and family. All the greenery that had grown within me disappeared as if global warming had concentrated its efforts solely on our lives.

June 10: WHO UNDERSTANDS? – My resolve to write the book about our story despite the crap it dredges up.

June 15: AT ONE YEAR – Having separated from my husband a month before, I realized that love does not conquer all, and that loving the self brings peace.

I am inclined to have premonitions and dreams that come true, yet I was having none. Nor did I want any. Still, I had a gentle nudging inside, a feeling, or knowing, which I could envision myself in love with someone, and saw myself having to choose between my estranged husband, and some new guy who might in my life (if I so chose). I tried to suppress this feeling.

July 15: SEPARATION – The realization hits that letting him go in order to “save him” may not have been the best reason to separate from a loved one. Yet the universe demanded it, and I listened… yet did not know why it had to be this way.

July 18: REBOUNDING – Wanting to date after moving on, yet still choosing to be alone. (I had let someone know I liked them, but was rejected; so being alone was better than that. Next, I relapsed/rebounded with my estranged husband due to depression from the loss of my job and not being able to find a new one… in my hour of desperation and loneliness I ended my separation with him… instantly regretting doing so, yet I stuck with the decision a while longer anyway, to ride it out and see where it would go. Inside I knew that I should not have done it.)

July 27: SOMETIMES – Peace without expectations for the future. This is a lovely place to be…

August 23: 4 MARRIAGES – My thoughts on my previous relationships, and my last marriage, figuring that having something to hope in that was far away, unreachable, and impossible was idealistically better than having nothing by myself, here and now, or facing changes in the future. (The thought of a 5th marriage one day scared the living daylights out of me, because I felt like a complete failure for having so many, so clung to the idea of staying in the 4th one where it was “safe” and no change, or risk, was necessary… yet I could still picture myself with a new partner in life again someday and felt that if I let go and accepted that possibility in my life it would probably happen. Clinging to the past is not always the best decision.)

By the end of August I decided I should start randomly dating. Change was inevitable. To live single the rest of my life (whether married or divorced), and to remain Sharon “Cornet” forever, seemed like a good idea at the time. I had absolutely zero dating prospects in my line of sight.

Then came the turning point… Sept. 16 I started talking to a man from our online Facebook group whom I had known as an acquaintance for many months, whom suddenly messaged me in private, triggered by our developing conversation that particular evening. We hit it off instantly. I had NO EXPECTATIONS so this budding relationship was a complete surprise outside of my simple “inner knowing” based on me being able to envision myself in a new relationship and in love. I had no idea if this was it. I did not want to know. I did not want label it, or put it into a box, or develop expectations beyond what it was meant to be, in time. Before I met my last husband, I had had dreams, and also put in my own criteria and said prayers, asking for certain things. Through him I got them all (except that one thing). This time around, I wanted it to be completely up to the universe to decide for me. The best gifts are brought into our lives this way.

September 25: ITS COMPLICATED – This fictional writing was highly inspired by a conversation I had with a friend that I had lost contact with over the years, but knew since I was 14 yrs old. He made me realize that I needed to move on in life, without my husband, and go forward, for me. This was another turning point, where I realized I would need to make a decision.

My new guy and I became fast friends, and were planning business ventures together, and since he would be moving soon anyway, he chose to move closer to me. A job brought him within about 2 hours of where I lived, so we got to meet face to face, spend some real time together, and we were able to solidify the relationship we had already been developing. We were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend, although we counted it from the time we “met” 2 weeks earlier (even though we sort of “met” online many months before).

September 25: SOME DAY – Some day I may unite again with my last husband, but not knowing if/when that day will come, and what our relationship will be like by then, it is now allowing my heart to be filled by another in his stead.

I now was ready to make a final choice I had been slowly making all along. It was not just about the two men I loved simultaneously, but about loving myself first… making the best choice for my family and for me in alignment with what the universe had been telling me all along. I made the choice between the two men, and it was not the one I expected or had been in my plans for so long. Yet it felt right. The universe had given me a husband and then had taken him away. EVERY sign and power in the universe had removed all control and ability and said, “Now you have him. Now you don’t,” and in the same voice added the addendum, “This is what love tastes like, but I have something even better in store for you!” Grace was upon my life. My response was finally to accept that. The ending of one thing (loss) is the beginning of another (gain).

October 9: THERE IS A PLACE – The first writing inspired by my new boyfriend, because he is so kind and treats me so well.

October 12: I AM SUNSTAR – Full realization of what I am here to do, and what I am capable of. For me, I chose to move forward and grow my life into a new reality, rather than try to put back the old, broken life. This was KEY in choosing my new love over my old love.

November 29: MOVING FORWARD – A fictional piece, based on fact (the direct quote is something I say occasionally to people who do things that I cannot decide are brave, or stupid, or both, depending… but in reality I never used this quote for my last husband (nor would I ever speak to him like that, in that kind of circumstance), but have said it to a friend or two before, in the right situation, or about other people).

November 30: 2 MARRIAGES 3 LOVES – (this writing)… I loved and lost, then loved and lost again, but am now going forward, into new, uncharted territory, without a fateful premonition except the one “knowing” where I would allow myself to love again, and have to choose between the two men I loved (my estranged husband, and my new boyfriend)… and choose I did!

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


I kissed him one last time, directly on his soft lips…

His hazel eyes met mine as I pulled back to see his face in full view.
I noticed the gleam in his eye, and realized he still loved me,
Yet somehow we knew that it was the last kiss we would have.

He took my hands, and leaned in to kiss me again, but I pulled back,
“You’re either brave, or stupid, one!”
He laughed to hide the seriousness of the moment, which he saw on my face.

I couldn’t do it anymore… the love holding me there.
I had to move on, upwards, forward.

The past issues had held me back for so long,
Weighing me down like an anchor dragging the sea bottom,
But no more.

I grabbed my keys and jacket, turned, and walked away from him.
I realized the smile on his face was gone, and that I caused it,
Yet I did not stop walking forward…

I merely said goodbye without a glance back in his direction.

I would always love him, I knew, but we simply could not be together.
Not like that, not like that ever again.
Not ever.

He was where he had to be, and I was where I had to be.
Apart. For good.
Only as friends would we ever be united, but no longer as lovers.

My heart had moved on, and I was in love with someone else now.

Someone whom had come to me, whom I met face to face,
Cheek to cheek, lips upon lips, and heart to heart.

Someone whom I would walk side by side with in life,
From this point on.

I knew it was time to move forward, hand in hand, and not look back.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011


My friend, you say that loving others is easy, and a deep commitment for you, but that loving yourself is the life lesson you still need to learn. To love someone so deeply that you fear losing them, so that you withhold yourself from them, is a common reaction. I used to be this way, To. A. Tee.

I must say it is a dark road, and all it wound up having me do was to withdraw to the point that if I couldn't feel as loved as I needed/required, then I would wind up letting go of the relationship. I have been married multiple times because my love was far more intense, and yet I was the one who pulled away first. Be careful of this.

It wasn't until my last husband whom—having a similar personality to mine—loved me deeply, yet life's circumstances kept us apart, and we had a tragedy in our lives, so deep and disturbing that I could not bare who I saw myself as being in that circumstance (I was highly suicidal and self-loathing was profound).

What I learned is that I had to, unfortunately, lose proximity to that man who loved me as no other had, and distance myself from everything that the circumstances reminded me of, in order to heal. Self-love has been coming since then (especially this year), and I now know my worth, my value, with or without someone who cares or sees me for the real me. It matters not if they know.

I KNOW. That is all that matters.

It is unlikely anyone could ever truly know every deep particle of my soul, just as you cannot be known (by *most* others) as deeply as you know yourself... but you CAN love yourself, every part, every piece, in the most holistic way you are able. By doing so you will be more forgiving, and accepting, and yes, it will improve your ability to love others, even though you already know how.

I find myself having a vast amount of peace and joy in my life, despite that my life is still recuperating from the issues of the past. I am now in a wonderful relationship with a man (also with a similar personality as mine) whom brings to me the most amazing and genuine love, with a gentleness and acceptance that exceeds my most amazing dreams. Yet we are still human, both of us, and so we just go forward, one day at a time, and love sincerely.

I think that letting go of expectations has helped tremendously... just enjoying life, and your significant other, and what you share (rather than worrying about what you lack). It's a matter of what you focus on, my dear friend; you are worthy of being loved, and yes, loving the self is the key to realizing that who you are is so much more, and needs to be so much less, than how you view yourself at this insignificant moment in time.

Years from now, you will see this more clearly. It is very hard for me to explain.

Just BREATHE, relax, and enjoy!!!

Loving yourself should be that easy.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


I am a sun star
Although I have gone by the name
SunStarAngel, for 11 years
Only tonight did I learn its true meaning
What a sun star really is and can do
At least, I never remembered this before
I suddenly realize its amazing synchronicity
In meaning for my life
After so much loss, and PTSD
A broken spirit where a vessel shattered
I survived in only one of the remaining pieces
The main body piece, all the rest gone from me

Trauma, to a spiritual leader, a shaman
Is what causes soul loss, loss of our beingness
Pieces of ourselves that disengage, dissociate
And leave us separated from ourselves and others
A journey of meditation and prayer
Of visions and spirit guides can bring back these pieces
But they come back muted, lacking in growth
So need to be nurtured to develop and catch up
To make the person whole again
But not for me, for I am a sun star
My broken pieces will not be mended
My soul loss will be transformed another way

Shamanism is the only near-universal
Non-organized religion in the world
The abilities people carry through life
Or learn, or develop, or enhance through beliefs
Are innate, from within, originating in our DNA
Shaped by environment, experiences, culture
It is a universal human condition
To have spiritual gifts, to see and know things
Which promotes survival, and life
Life also brings loss, trauma, depression, anxiety, death
Yet new growth brings mobility, like the sun star
This is a lesser known innate ability

Understand the mystery, the science
The sun star is a starfish predator
With arms of 5, 13, even 24, called rays
Rays break off, and fall away forever
Not meant to be reattached
The loss regenerates to new life
New growth, new rays to walk on, to hold on
Self-proclaiming power, and ability
Growth from out of the self like magick
Yet it is designed this way, the self-healer
Doing what most cannot do, or will not try
Loss of soul need not be found, but grown

I am sun star, in the reef of life
In water of emotions deep and blue
Moving faster than other starfish
An invertebrate, seemingly no spine
An echinoderm, unique, largest of them all
Eating even squids, bi-valves, even crabs
Stronger than those with shells
Wiser than those with shields
Faster than those who run to escape
I eat them for dinner, for they are my prey
My grip is fierce, overcoming them
Loss of rays, but growing more than is lost

I am sun star… I choose life and growth
Sun stars are found in the PNW and nearby
Intertidal flats and reefs abound with life
Diversity and hues of color encompass here
Where water and land meet is the seashore
West to water, North to land, the quarters be
The gateway to life and living is in my rays
Reaching out, touching, gripping, crushing, feeding
Where enemies who fight break me loose
And fear and loss are inevitable and synonymous
Fate and free will become fancies of notion
When a sun star foresees what is to come

I am sun star…

Sunday, October 9, 2011


There is a place I go for SAFETY
Where I know everything will be okay
When life knocks me down

There is a place I go for STRENGTH
Where I know I can count on answers
Or even just an ear to listen

There is a place I go for GENTLENESS
Where I know my soul is in good hands
And I can breathe and feel peace

There is a place I go for ACCEPTANCE
Where I know I am honored
And not judged or made unworthy

There is a place I go for FORGIVENESS
Where I know my deeds count
Yet are not the sum of who I am

There is a place I go for LOVE
Where I know I am wanted
And desired beyond words

There is a place I go for ME
Where I know my worth alone
And am happy that I am no longer lonely

There is a place I go….

And that place is part of YOU…

This place is within your heart…

And I am happy to reside here.

Sunday, September 25, 2011


“It’s Complicated” is what my friend asked about – it has been listed as my relationship status on Facebook for a few months now.

“Yes, it’s complicated,” I said. “Why?” he asked. “Because I’ve been living apart from my husband for 2 ½ years.” “Why?” he asked again with a confused look on his face.

So I told him why, but only after he insisted that it was weird to be married, living apart, for that long, and that it should have ended in the big “D” (divorce) already.

“Yes,” I agreed, “statistically, about 80% of marriages in situations like mine end up in divorce within the first couple or so years.”

“So why are you still not divorced?”

“Because I love him.”

I choked on the next response, because every cell in my body knew how hard it was to spit out the reasons why. “He’s in prison for a crime he did not commit.”

“I’m sorry,” he responded, “You’re a good person; I can’t imagine what that has been like for you.”

“I tried to separate completely a few months ago, but after two months I felt so guilty – like kicking a man when he is already down – and missed him too much.”

“But you need to take care of yourself; what about your needs?”

“I’m very independent and don’t mind being alone… most of the time. But financially it has been extremely hard.”

“You have a life to live, and sometimes it has to be about you.”

“I don’t know… it’s all very confusing at times, and so darn complicated that I don’t know what’s the best thing to do.” I looked down at the floor, pondering my own words.

“So how will it be when y’all are back together?”

“We may be two very different people, yet still the same. We write often, but I cannot afford the phone calls because the company that monitors the prison system phones costs so much.”

“I could only imagine…” His voiced trailed off.

“I’m afraid I made a mistake in some ways, by telling him I will not have any dates in the future, because I’ve been thinking that I should go out and do things with people more often. However, I risk falling in love again if I do that.”

“You’ve got to take care of you at some point in time.”

I stood there quietly, and did not respond.

“Like I said, you’re a good woman. Don’t think I could do it, or expect someone to do it for me.”

I questioned who had more selfishness in this situation… me for considering the alternative to waiting several more years for him to get out on parole, or him for wanting me to wait that long.

“Well, it’s complicated...”

But I knew it did not have to be.


Oh what wane the heart dost feel
When you canst be near to me

What depth of love grabs our hearts
Yet the distance sheds its hands

Among men you are mighty and proud
Yet the chains shackle it to the dungeons

Alone we trod, together, apart
Until the day returns our own sun

None can try to fill your shoes
Yet some may wear others in place

Until the time of weeping in love
We go, we stay, we move forward

Our separate paths dost keep the way
As we hope they may cross yet again

Some day… some day…

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


I don't think I could survive another marriage.

Four is enough.

Can I even count the first one, on paper, where I never lived with him, because I was 15 and pregnant?

I almost backed out of the second one but my baby was a year old and needed a daddy, and I felt like I was a financial burden to my parents, so I married out of some sick sense of obligation... too embarrassed at age 17 to back out.

The third one lasted 10 years, but I earned every hard year and paid the price of a broken heart, and depression, in order to make it that far; yet I knew it was meant to be... the father of my children--even the one that was not his and still calls him dad.

This last one has been the hardest of all, because the love that has been given has been so true, so very deep, and yet we were ripped apart due to circumstances out of our control, which has been more than we could bear... yet we had to bear it anyway.

I hold on to that love, despite the distance of time and space, despite the odds, despite the lies perpetrated by those working within an uncaring and relentless system... despite the structural violence that victimizes the victims and harms the children, even to the point of violating the legal victims rights (not privilege) that is guaranteed to all but denied to my family.

This marriage, with the greatest potential, has been the most challenging of all. I stay the course, and choose love, because the alternative is unthinkable; and because so many parts of me have died already, that I know there is not enough left to survive if I were to do it all over again. This is the one that was meant to last.

One day... one day all will be different... and the organized crime of the cold machine of the powers that be will no longer be able to squelch the truth, the love, the victory that will be ours.

Why try to survive another marriage another relationship, another failure, when the one I have is yet still intact, despite how it looks on the outside?

They can restrain our bodies, lock us up, shackle our freedom, destroy our livelihood, steal our home, rip us all apart from each other, steal our sanity and health and peace of mind, and even put damaging labels on us--indicative of their slander, libel, and defamation--but they cannot kill our spirits. Even if they kill our bodies they cannot have our spirits. They cannot remove our love, or our choice after their timed part is over, nor can they shut the mouth of a child they harmed who will one day grow into an adult who is destined to bring to light their own karma, which shall seek its own vengeance back upon them via her words of truth. We shall live to see that day. We shall survive it, as it was foretold.

I cannot survive another marriage, because the one I have is worthy of the love that is imbedded within it, perfused and permeated by it.

One is alone, two is double trouble, three is completion, but four is perfection.
I will not leave ("survive") this marriage. Four is enough.

Perfection is LOVE... the love we share that stands the test of time, and survives the space in between.

Separation is not an option; it is a requirement for growth.

Love, here, is realized, accepted, and respected.

Love here returns us to life, forgiveness, healing, wholeness, and brings us home.

It is time to go home.

Saturday, August 13, 2011


There have often been debates in fundamentalist Christian circles about not being able to reconcile science with religion, or vice versa. I was told, recently, about the geology not being reliable because of the "arrogance of academia" and how fallible it is. Yet, engineering (math) is not seen as that, by many of these same people (or so it seems). This is my response to that position.

As far as geology is concerned, it is a science, just as the knowledge we have of engineering is (hence, why we have engineering science, engineering physics, hydrology (a mix of geology and engineering)). It is information that is studied, researched, collected, analyzed, critiqued, presented, critiqued by colleagues some more, updated, expanded, analyzed and critiqued again, updated, and so this is the methodology of science, on and on, constantly improving over time with new information or evidence or mathematical equations (like Einstein's E=mc2). If someone got a degree through academia in engineering, then would we think that the degree is bogus and untrue and so incredibly fallible because of its academic origins? It would get him the education the person needs to get a good paying job and support their family, proving its worth, yet by default by the argument would imply that a different person's geology degree is inferior because it comes from the same source... "arrogant academia." This is illogical, and a double standard, IMHO. 

People are able to communicate (and even argue LOL) long distance via these amazing scientific things called electrons and the virtual reality of computer systems, all that are part of the "arrogant" scientific community who discovered and invented it all; and yes, they are so wrong that we cannot even bother to buy their stuff they create, let alone use it. I speak tongue in cheek, obviously. We go to the moon, to space, have lasers and technological weapons that are so powerful that it is scary, yet we dare call it inferior compared to our religion? I am not talking about God or spirituality, but religion and dogma (most know the difference). Regarding the claimed arrogance (or even ignorance) of academia as a whole, it would be an Argument by Generalization, considered one of the many logical fallacies. Basically, a broad-sweeping stereotype of a group or type, in essence. 

I predict that spirituality and science--if either are ever to be true--eventually and ultimately, will be as one superimposed on the other, meaning that one will point to the other, and prove each other out. If not, then we have to question if either are true in and of themselves. If the belief is true that God created all, and all spirituality comes through him/her, and (s)he created the laws of physics and all that we know about in science, then there can be no "wrong" in learning more about his/her creation and how (s)he made it. 

The real question is... What church is claiming that it is a SIN to learn about their God's earth by taking a geology class? If they claim the science of geology is "wrong" (inferior to their dogma) then that is exactly what they are doing. In time, as science continues to expand and change and grow (as we do, spiritually - there is no such thing as anything completely static or stale), this will prove out on its own... in fact, it already is, little by little. 

For instance, Christians around the world used to believe that the cosmos was geocentric (sun revolved around the earth) rather than heliocentric (earth/planets revolve around the sun). Science proved this wrong, the early Christians called it heresy, but in time people "got it" and understood the bigger picture, agreeing with science. Unless someone is a flat-earther, and still thinks that the "four corners of the earth" mentioned in the Bible refers to an actual square, flat earth shape, then there is hope for humanity reconciling science with their religious views about the world and how it was all made. Enlightenment of this kind is almost always assumed with great opposition (at first).

You will find this interesting... There is an old lesson from the ancient Greek and other mythologies from times past, and it is true in the church system today, as well as the criminal justice system, the political system, and many other of mankind's systems. It is the same story told over and over... where the gods of yesterday, who were revered, were later replaced by newer, younger, more powerful gods, and so the older gods were "demonized" and so their view in the eyes of the people changed over time... first loving the old gods, and then later hating them. You can actually witness it--the transformation--by reading old literature on mythology. It is an archetypal story as well. Very interesting stuff! It is something you can see for yourself through the ancient scripts and texts and stories, changed over time. Always, when one person, or god, or system, or power sees another person/god/system/power that it feels threatened by, it attempts to remove that power in the eyes of their followers, by demonizing it. 

The protestant church system does this very thing even today regarding Judaism, claiming that the God of the OT (Old Testament) was a God of punishment, always bringing destruction to people and whole cities of people (Sodom and Gomorrah comes to mind, as does Jonah, etc.), and that the Jews are all about upholding the LAW (Ten Commandments, and their rituals), and that the God of the NT (New Testament) supersedes the letter of the law because it is "reformed" through Jesus Christ because now God chooses love and forgiveness and the living Word over punishment, and that ALL people have the right to go to heaven if they believe, because Jesus absolutely will forgive them of ALL their sins if they repent and believe. The Jewish system of faith (remembering Jesus was a Jew and LIVED by the Jewish ways and lifestyle, completely) is now "demonized" (made to look bad) in order to promote the resurrected Son of God and faith in him now, today, in the new way as opposed to the old. I grew up being fed this stuff by spoonfuls at church, that Jews were outright WRONG because they didn't accept Christ, even though they still worshiped the same God as we did. By demonizing the old way, it reinforces the belief in the new. I'm sure you know all of this already, but there's more...

Additionally, the fundamentalist church systems today see scientific knowledge as a threat to their age-old belief systems of a literal interpretation of the Bible (young earth creationism, dinosaurs actually fitting on the ark, etc., specifically), and so they demonize the scientific community in order to remove the power they have in the eyes of their own church community, so the church doesn't lose the power over the individuals who support them financially, and in their quest for proselytizing, or whatever else their agenda is (even if their only agenda is to help people, have an honest following or congregation, etc.). Demonization is the key. This is something you can witness for yourself within the religious community, the many books and pamphlets, articles and reports, websites and paraphernalia that is available almost everywhere. In order to seemingly support one's own agenda, it absolutely *must* demonize its apparent "enemy" and make it into an enemy, even if it is NOT really an enemy at all. In the right light, one sees this clearly. 

What I have shown you here is merely a pattern. A pattern of human behavior that is quite predictable throughout time, simply because we are human, and fear and "hatred" is learned, usually through the context of our culture at the time, just as the Greeks did with their gods and goddesses. I'm sure you already recognize this pattern.

Dare I say that fundamentalist Christian's own disgust with academia is not necessarily their own... it was inherited by those around them, who taught it to them. The same information is parroted over and over and over until it becomes part of their psyche. Or did they have a very personal and negative experience with all of academia that made them feel this way, personally? Unless the latter is true, then it is most likely their enculturation talking. An opinion that they have heard so much that it became their own. 

Do you see it? I think most do. 

As you watch for these patterns you will begin to notice this same trend of demonizing something that *appears* as an enemy, and you will see clearly, with absolute certainty, that it is a method, a means to an end. Only you (the observer) can determine what that end is, but you will know it when you see it. It will come in time, as you see the many signs all around you. The spirit of this "demonization of science" by the church will haunt you until one day it passes through, and then you will know the truth of it. Not because of anything written here, but because you have seen it with your own eyes, and will feel it in your gut, and you will know it to be true within. At that point, there will be no turning back to 'not knowing' what you will then know. 

The demonization of the "perceived" enemy is an ancient war tactic, and a way to control the masses, akin to the logical fallacy called a Straw Man argument, which is a part of the Red Herring fallacy. But that gets into philosophical issues beyond the scope of seeing the pattern itself, which is the whole point here.

If the individual Christian who believes such demonizing antics is strong in spirit, and up to the challenge, and a truth seeker (as opposed to one who thinks they already know the truth) they may take a college-level geology class and ask ALL the questions they can to see the other side, and see if it is "all that" or if there is truth there in the hate-agenda of the church. Then they can decide for themselves, rather than letting the church systems, and their paraphernalia and propaganda, do their thinking for them. 

The demonizing of science by organized religions (specifically fundamentalists of (m)any religion(s)) is a common pattern, just as it was ages ago, when it was a FACT that the earth was still flat, and the sun revolved around it.

DISCLAIMER: I am not picking on Christianity as a whole, only delineating the fundamentalist view of the "YEC's" (Young Earth Creationist's), and suggesting a college-level education (secular) rather than a constant diet of anti-science agendas by those who obviously do not want to lose their members. I also have no intention of allowing this blog to become a place to "debate" this issue. It is for informational purposes only, and hopefully an inspiration to those who are still searching and not "completely happy" with the "truth" they presently know (or think they know).

Sunday, August 7, 2011


Author: Sharon Cornet
Photo: Toni McConaughie

Terry took his long sword and grasped its handle tightly with both hands. He trembled and shook as he mentally prepared himself for the door to open. “NOW!” he yelled to Katherine, who turned the door handle slowly, secretly hoping it would magically get stuck shut. The door unlatched. Katherine let it swing open in sync with her slender body as she took a large step back behind it. Terry screamed, “Aaaaaauuuuuugggghhhhhh!!!!!!!” as he ran, sword in tight grip, through the doorway and toward the people headed his way. He never dreamed, this morning, that by noon he would be chopping off the heads of his closest friends in his own front yard.

Katherine slammed the door shut, failing to lock it as she ran to the window, peeking through the curtain to watch. Her breath fogged the window glass as her left hand rubbed against it, making short, bloody, smear marks. The earlier bite from one of their two “friends” outside had done her in, for sure, she thought. Her hand ached, and her body ached even more. She had lost a lot of blood and was feeling weak, and a bit cold. She used her good hand to run her fingers through her long red hair and out of her sweaty face. Katherine was scared, but she watched as Terry, in one fell swoop, sliced through most of the neck of his first and only true best friend. Jacob’s head lopped over and then hung half-sideways, half-upside down, as only a single piece of attached flesh forced it to dangle. Jacob’s bloody, already-gray-colored, decapitated body fell to the ground, flat. He was done. Terry’s eyes began to well up with tears, How did Jacob even become one of them?

Terry heard a moaning to his left. He swiftly turned and instinctively lunged the sword straight into the rib cage of his other friend, Billy. Billy was the smallest – short and skinny – of the three young men, always having needed someone to save him from the neighborhood bullies when they were growing up. Terry had always been his hero. Terry cried out a wail of despair as he realized that he could never save Billy again, not even from himself. Not today. He pushed the sword deeper into Billy’s bosom, piercing through to the other side.

Katherine looked wide-eyed as Terry removed the sword from Billy’s chest and quickly stuck it into his face, penetrating the skull, into what little was left of his brain. Most of it had already been eaten out by other living-dead beings, which is what caused Billy to die the first time. “Why did you have to die?” Terry gasped, letting it escape his lips as more of a whimper. Billy’s body simultaneously fell to the ground as Terry pulled the sword out of the holey skull. Then, with all the strength he had, Terry hit his sword onto Billy’s neck, removing his head, cleanly this time. Chunks of coagulated blood splattered around the grass as Billy’s head rolled over, about eighteen inches away from where it had detached. Billy’s eyes looked straight at Terry, but all life was gone from them; even zombie “life.” He was dead for good this time. The bloody sword fell out of Terry’s weakened hand, hitting the ground with a thud. His knees felt weak as well. His mind, however, was whirling.

Truly dying, to Terry, meant reawakening soon after dying a first time, and being killed again, by way of decapitation. At least, that is what seemed to work to kill these bastards. This intermediate “life” of a zombie was some kind of sick joke, he decided... and the two zombies’ bodies that laid before him, who used to be his best friends, were only a couple of the umpteen thousands, if not millions, suddenly inhabiting the planet. They appeared to be some sort of evil creatures stumbling around in a waking death, whose recent coming were obviously of Biblical proportions. He had been fighting against a couple of dozen or so of these new zombie-like creatures since just after midnight the night before, when he and Katherine had been at the college graduation party. The circumstances had been bizarre, and he was still having trouble wrapping his thoughts around it all.

Katherine, having watched the scene of her boyfriend killing both Jacob and Billy, suddenly felt an extreme coldness come over her, and the aching she had been feeling throughout her body lost its grip on her. She breathed one deep breath, let it out, and then panted, before releasing all tension. She just stood there, by the window, unable to move. She hung her head, and her red, damp hair lay limp like strings of perpetual blood dripping toward the floor; yet nothing was moving.

Terry’s hands felt numb, and his arms limp as Katherine’s hair. He looked up, but only saw a shadow of her form behind the sheer curtain, standing motionless. He heard a soft but low moaning in the distance behind him. Terry turned his head toward the street. More were coming. The urgent feeling inside him told him that he had to do some research now that he was home, “…before they find me,” he surprisingly said out loud to himself. Terry picked up his sword, walked swiftly back to his house, and entered the door to his home, looking over his shoulder one last time. Katherine stood by the window, a mere few feet away from him. Locking the door behind him, he said, “Are you okay?” She moaned, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. “It’s been too much for you,” Terry said aloud as he grabbed a pillow off the couch and shoved it under her head, “You’ll be okay, just rest now.”

Terry double-checked every door and window in the house, making sure everything was locked, and made sure all inside lights were off. He wondered if his parents were okay on their vacation. They had left from their home in rural Missouri to New York a week and a half ago, but he knew they were due back any time. They were even late, he figured. Had they even made their flight home? Was what was happening here happening there too? Would they ever make it home alive? Feeling insecure about his parents, but fairly secure about his safety in the house, he removed his blood-spattered shirt, sat down, and began searching the Internet on his parents’ computer in the “office,” which used to be his room.

The first thing he did was pull up the local news website, and then the national news, international news, and a host of other sites in between. Nothing was forthcoming, only article after article, and video after video of more of what he’d already seen and been dealing with. Practically no place on the planet, it appeared, was left unaffected. Normal people had mysteriously died, then within minutes had come back as some kind of zombie-like walking dead people, and no one knew why. He was looking for answers, anything; anything that might give him a clue as to what was really going on. Terry was tired, and had been without sleep all night. He glanced up at the clock, which said 12:12PM on its digital face. “Exactly twelve hours ago!” he exclaimed while looking back down at the computer screen. Then he got an idea.

Terry noticed the date on the bottom right corner of the computer – Saturday, December 22, 2012. Yesterday had been the twelfth month, twenty-first day, and twelfth year… Wasn’t there something about that date? This is going to take some time. He got up momentarily to pee and check on Katherine. She appeared to be sleeping. After checking the windows, front and back all over again, and seeing nobody, he washed his hands and grabbed some bread with blackberry jam (because strawberry reminded him too much of Jacob’s and Billy’s coagulated blood), and then went back to the computer room. He just needed to feel normal and hear human voices, so he turned on the small TV that sat in the corner by the bookshelf, although kept the volume on low. He recognized the old 1984 Ghostbusters movie that was playing, so left it on. Terry took a bite of his jammed bread and laid it on the edge of the desk, sat back down at the computer, focused on the date of 12/21/2012.

Terry searched and found strange entries in forums, and off-brand websites that talked about the end times, the Christian fundamentalist belief in the Rapture, and even sites about UFO’s coming to earth to “take” people away, or translate their bodies into some kind of higher consciousness “light” body. He shuddered. Terry took another bite of the bread and jam, placing it down as he continued his search. The Mayan calendar was the date of the “end of the world” according to several sources, none of which were scientific, or anthropologically correct, according to one site where a Mayan descendant – who was a shaman – mentioned that fear-based Americans were making incorrect judgments about his culture and his ancestors’ knowledge by assuming it had anything to do with them, let alone with American culture many hundreds of years later. Still, Terry thought, these dates mark special times of change, from one period to another, and sometimes with change comes upheaval and chaos, at least for a while.

Terry looked up information on astronomy next, and the 7% degree difference in the galactic (not planetary) alignment. Next came astrology, and the hard lessons that Saturn’s influence would give, as well as Mercury being in retrograde, which evidently only brought communication issues and computer or other electronic problems, but nothing seriously harmful or dangerous… just a bit of temporary bad luck or delays. Stupid, he thought. Nothing like this zombie apoca-lapse (lapse, he figured, because there was about a 12-minute lapse in time between midnight and when the zombies began appearing). Something about the end times, the date changes, the times, and chaos itself sat deeply inside of Terry, and made him think that perhaps the Bible might have some answers. Jacob’s dad, who was a minister-turned-agnostic, had taught him some things about the Bible. The only reference Terry found, regarding dead people, and prophecies, was Rev 20:13 “And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works.”

“Aha!” Terry said aloud, “Revelation is a symbolic book, and the ‘sea’ is always a reference to the masses… the mass of people on the earth.” He studied the verse in detail, realizing that it was all the people he knew, personally, who had believed in the 2012 “end times” or the “rapture” or a host of other strange cultural beliefs – at least strange to him – that had been expecting something to happen yesterday, and when it didn’t they became sullen, and began acting strange, and then turned crazy with anger, and their behavior changed, as if they had become possessed. Then their bodies simply collapsed. That is when their bodies changed, visibly, and their breathing stopped, and their eyes glazed over. It is when their skin became ashen in color, and their hunger for flesh and brains began, and their anger consumed them to the point that they acted hungry and angry at the same time… hangry!

Terry reached for the last third of his bread and jam. Just then, as he was staring at the verse on the computer screen, he realized the depth of his thoughts, and the evil incarnate that had been bestowed upon his life, which he equally felt responsible for having to deal with. Suddenly, and in apparent synchronistic timing of some kind of disgusting humor of the current apoca-lapse, the voice of Bill Murray from the TV movie, Ghostbusters, yelled out, “dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria!” and caused Terry to drop his bread, which landed jam-side down. He knew that this was bad news. A bad omen. These zombies were here to stay a while. These hangry zombies didn’t even know what they were anymore. They had no future because all of their dreams, hopes, and faith had died, and their bodies died right along with them. They were empty shells, walking around, filled only with notions and ideas and spirits that were already dead and gone. Their hangry-ness was all they had now, hungering for peoples’ brains, Perhaps for the knowledge that existed in the livings’ heads, which they lacked. It seems a stretch to believe this was happening to people, but it was all he had to go on.

Little did they know, Terry thought, that they were even becoming zombies! They died and came back via another reality altogether. Zombie reality. They no longer had a purpose, or anything to hope for. He contemplated the immensity of this revelation concerning the zombies.

Meanwhile, Katherine stirred in the other room, unbeknownst to him. His attention was so focused that he did not hear anything but the TV and his own voice inside his head.

As Terry sat, in full and absorbed contemplation of the big picture, a shiver and tangible sensation went up his back. A long thin fingernail gently traveled up the bareness of his lower spine, between his shoulder, toward his neck. Katherine had a habit of doing this to him, and he turned to smile at her, realizing she was probably feeling better, finally. But this felt different somehow. As he turned and looked at her the smile on his face fell into a look of terror. Her eyes were completely vacant, and mottled with irregular colors of white, black, and gray, and her skin the familiar zombie-ashen lack of color as Jacob and Billy had been. Her only intact hand reached out and grabbed the soft part of the front of his neck as the bloody stub of her other arm pushed into his cheek. Her mouth opened wide, as if to hungrily French kiss him, but as her teeth barred he realized she wanted to bite him, as the newly born zombies had previously bitten her. He struggled to break free of her grasp but she was very strong. His rolling chair fell backwards, hitting the desk and sliding sideways.

He crashed to the floor, and her grip slipped. Terry instantly reached up and felt his neck to see if she had made him bleed, but before he could check fully he instinctively rolled sideways, and got out from under her body-of-death as it hovered over him, moaning. He jumped up, with Katherine – or what was left of her – following him out of the office and into the hallway. He ran to the kitchen, grabbing his mom’s chef knife from out of the knife block that was on the kitchen counter. Katherine’s body slammed against the wall as she, unbalanced and not quite all there, attempted to go after her former boyfriend. Terry realized right then that bites from a zombie were infectious. Contagious. It wasn’t just the dead from hell itself that overtook otherwise perfectly good people, but evidently being damned was catching! He did not want to catch any zombie-death sickness! He did not want to die with them in their misery.

Terry knew what he had to do, and this time there was no thinking twice. He had felt sadness for re-killing the already dead Jacob and Billy, his two best friends, but dammit, he was NOT going to go down for any girl, especially not a zombie-bitch! As she lunged, almost falling onto him, Terry stuck the 9-inch blade into her mouth, cutting through the back of her throat. Chunks of blood tumbled out of her mouth onto his hands as he severed her flesh. He pulled the blade from her, and pushed her backwards down to the ground with his hands, knife still in his grip.

She reached for him, wailing her arms around, and screamed a low but loud moaning type of growl, and tried to attack him, but he placed his knee down onto her good hand so she could not scratch him. Her bloody stump was of no use. He simply rubbed the sharp blade of the knife back and forth on her neck, and when he realized it was not cutting as well as a serrated knife would, he stabbed it over and over, working hard to cut the flesh enough to remove the head. It only wound up a bloody lump of irregular flesh, sitting there staring at him in jest, like multiple clumps of raw liver on top of determined bones that refused to give up to his efforts. He suddenly realized what he was doing, and to whom. A horror came over him, and he had to leave.

Terry jumped up, and ran into his parent’s bedroom, locking the door behind him. He heard the zombie-bitch that used to be his girlfriend crawling or shuffling down the hall toward his direction. Her moaning turned out more like a gurgle and lacked all definition of any kind of a voice. He was disgusted and started to wretch into his father’s dresser drawer he had pulled open. After three heaves he shut the drawer and opened another one, grabbed one of his father’s clean t-shirts, put it on quickly, and stopped all motion to listen. He heard her at the door, thumping against it. Thump, thump, THUMP! It grew louder. THUMP, THUMP, T-H-U-M-P!! He went to the closet, grabbing the shotgun and rifle from the top shelf, behind the box of his mother’s keepsakes, from his childhood. T-H-U-M-P, T-H-U-M-P!!!! The doorframe began to crack and he knew it was only a matter of time before the door would swing open.

He knew the shotgun was loaded, in case of emergency, but Terry still took the time to check, just in case. Katherine pushed the door in, making the door slam against the wall. She limped over toward him as he fiddled with the shotgun. Her head was tilting slightly to one side, whether from the injury or because of what she was, he did not know. Her bloody hand-stump and her sharp fingernails from her other hand were both reaching out to him as she gurgled one last time before lunging at him. He winced as she neared him, his fidgeting with the shotgun finally coming to an end. Katherine was within less than a meter from him as he pulled the shotgun up and aimed it at her head, shooting her directly in the face. BAM!!! The heaviness of her body fell forward onto him, but her head bent backward from the blast, all at the same time. Her body landed on top of him with a dull flesh-slapping thud.

Terry heaved her dead body off of him, letting its weight roll over to the side on its own. He grabbed the guns, all the ammo his dad had in the closet, and grabbed his old backpack from the front room coat rack. He stuffed all the dried and canned and other foods he could find, along with a few canned lemonades from the fridge, into the backpack. He knew that the house would be safe, for now, but realized he might have to leave in a hurry. He grabbed his car keys, put them into his jeans pocket, and was ready to go, if needed. For now, he thought, I will try to rest. He was so incredibly exhausted. He sat on the couch, backpack on, shotgun in his arms, and laid his head back.

Three hours later, bumping sounds at the locked front door awoke Terry. He distinctly heard voices talking. He jumped up, looked out the window, which was still covered in smears of dried blood from Katherine’s pre-zombied stump. It was a last reminder of the scene that had happened just before he had fallen asleep. He glanced down the hall, but realized her dead zombie-bitch body was likely still in his parents’ bedroom. Looking out the front window, he was relieved when he saw his dad fiddling with the keys while his mom was screaming at him to hurry. They looked normal, but upon opening the door to let them in he realized that both of them were bloody.

Had they killed some zombies too? Or had they been bitten?

Terry was ready, either way.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011


Sometimes things happen for a reason. At least it feels good to think so.

Being apart from a loved one, for a long time, sometimes makes the heart grow fonder, 
and sometimes it causes a separation that is unavoidably too vast to allow closeness to grow.

Sometimes you have to let go.
And sometimes… sometimes… once you let go completely,
you can realize that you don’t really want to after all.

And it is okay.
It is okay to have let go.
It is okay to return to love.

It is worth saying you’ll wait.

Wait for the separation to end one day.
Wait for the universe to reverse the reasons that were keeping you apart.
Wait with hope and love, and even excitement for the day you join up with this person again, 
whom equally and mutually wants to be with you too.

The difference is that this time you have no expectation on timing, or what, or how. 
It will be whenever and however it will be.

This is the peace I finally feel, after years of being upset and angry and lonely.

Now I am free. 
Free to live, free to experience, free to love without expectations of anything being returned to me. 
If it happens it will happen, and at the right way and time. 
If it doesn’t then I am still free.

Sometimes things happen for a reason. At least it feels good to think so.

Monday, July 18, 2011


When is it considered rebounding?

I have been in a relationship for the last 7 years.
We have been married 5 of those 7 years.
We have not lived together the last 2 ½ years of those 5 years.
I have not laid eyes on him the last 1 yr of those 2 ½ years.
I haven’t spoken to him on the phone the last 2 months of that 1 year.
Until the other day, I hadn’t seen a letter from him for the last 1 month.
Little by little, the separation grew, in every possible way.

Time and space divides us.

We are estranged, living in different states, far across the country.

So I let go. Completely.
With no hopes of ever getting together for at least another several years, if then.

So what is rebounding… dating too quickly after the end of a relationship?

What is the end of a relationship?
How long you’ve been together?
How long you’ve been married?
How long you have or haven’t seen your partner?
How long you have or haven’t talked to them on the phone?

Rebounding… is it too quick to date after 2 ½ years of being alone?

Of course, what about if there have been zero dates?
And you are still not sure if you even want to date?
And there is no one around you that you wish to date?

What if there was someone you met at work that you’d *considered* dating, but they were not interested?
Then you don’t work there anymore anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

Is it rebounding then?

What if you still want your husband, but it is fruitless?
What if your husband still wants you, but circumstances dictate it cannot be?

Is it rebounding then?

What is rebounding anyway?

So I wait. I stay alone.


Wednesday, July 13, 2011


I don't want you to feel as alone as I feel. Letting go has been so hard. I have proven I can do it, but it seems so pointless unless it gives you freedom. It certainly has given me freedom - as in, time to write, reflect, focus - but it has not given me freedom to my soul. I feel caged, forced to do what I do not want to do. To be in a place of solitude, as you are, but all within me, because of this horrid separation.

The further I withdraw, the more I see things that remind me of you. Like I am on a rubberband, pulling away from you, only to have it all snap back. I hope it stretches to the point of snapping us back into each others arms rather than to the point of breaking. The band is now overstretched and it is getting weak. Something must change. Time and space between us has been the enemy. We either have to accept that, or make a huge change in our psyche to end this (thing that keeps us apart) at a higher level. I wish for a new dream or premonition as to what is coming. Just to know would make it easier. I know nothing.

I need you now. I needed you yesterday. I know that is not possible and it is breaking my heart. I am afraid I have broken yours. Please tell me you love me. The Shania Twain song "From This Moment On" is the song in my head that invoked and sealed our love when I first came to meet you so long ago, and committed to going through the veil of mysteries about the future, complete with the signs and omens of the birds, the lion, the council. These words would be riddles to anyone but you. Only you understand these things with me. I realize that I had this same vision of the lion/birds almost a decade before we ever met. It was written in the stars. It was our fate no matter what.

We WILL get through it, but only together, even if apart. I will wait for you. I will not abandon you, even if I have to be at a distance for a while. If four more years is what it takes, then fine, but know that I yearn for what I cannot have, and it pains my heart, crushes my psyche, and demolishes my soul. I almost cannot bear it any longer, and hold on because I miss you so incredibly much. There is no one else for me that can ever compare to who you are to me, and the love we share and hold dear.

I pray for an absolute miracle. The universe knows we need one. We have become complacent in our separation. It is time to snap back.

P.S. - I went to the mailbox right now and there was a letter from you, and a birthday card you made for me. Thank you for telling me you love me, and that we’ll make it through this time of separation from each other.