Did I find you, or you find me?

our house

“Naive Melody”  ~ Talking Heads

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb – burn with a weak heart
(So I) guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It’s ok I know nothing’s wrong . . nothing

easter

Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you’re standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up say goodnight . . . say goodnight

our pumpkin

Home – is where I want to be
But I guess I’m already there
I come home she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can’t tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time Before we were born
If someone asks, this where I’ll be . . . where I’ll be

dopes

Hi yo We drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I’m just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I’m dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head

the turkey lives on

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb – burn with a weak heart
(So I) guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It’s ok I know nothing’s wrong . . nothing

loveandhistory

Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you’re standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up say goodnight . . . say goodnight

our tree

Boston? First stop: Newbury Comics

TD NC T

Love this *vintage* shot of Tom Drummond!

Ohhh . . . Newbury Comics. . .Newbury Street . . .

Miss you, Bob . . . so many great memories. For me, anyway. He probably doesn’t recall anything.

Miss Boston, too . . .

Very good friends of mine recently sold their long-time home just outside of Boston and moved into a three bedroom condo.  They keep telling me (not asking!) to come and visit. I think it’s time to take them up on that demand!

Loves me a road trip!

 “But I miss you and the things you do
The times we had, the good and bad
The day we met that I can’t forget
Signed

Sincerely, 

Me

You always said you’d never go away.

And I miss you…”

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“I’ll be there if you fall; love made suckers of us all” ~KG

The-people-who-really-care-won’t-hurt-you

Sometimes it’s really hard to always do and/or say the right thing . . .  Anger, confusion, disbelief, insensitivity, misunderstanding, misinformation, inexperience . . .these can all lead to missteps resulting in hostility, conflict, and most of all, pain. Mistakes are made; forgiveness is a gift. Allow yourself to let it go if that person is truly important to you. Give yourself  –  and those that care about you – a break. You only go ’round once . .  .

Xanaxoxo

Exhausted.
For some reason I really have never thought about this until tonite:
I miss lying in bed, talking quietly, giggling ,sighing, saying “I love you” and kissing each other goodnight. ( I do remember telling Bob that I would like to begin a tradition of that last part; always kissing each other goodnight right before we went to sleep.)

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Drifting off. . .
So tired. . .
Gnite.
xoxo

“Bob loves Ria” and other fairy tales

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I really am sorry.
I know you did awful things and know I did awful things in response, then you did, then I did. . .
Just different awful things.
I really feel as though my chances to ever be in a relationship again are zilch. Well, I know so, actually.
And, yes, I do  blame you. Physically, emotionally . . .damaged. You know this.
And I was/am shocked, despondent, angry and suicidal.
As you said, you don’t get the depth and breadth of how much your infidelity hurt me.

I can’t bear this feeling.
I never really thought that I would die so full of remorse and regrets.
I am tired. Tired of crying. Tired of going over and over our conversations in my head. Tired of berating myself for reacting so badly (for me) when discovering that you had lied, cheated, disrespected and betrayed me.
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You told me not to blame myself and that you made a mistake. How can I not blame myself?  You made me hate myself. You compared Vikwhoria to me and she won in spades. If you made a “mistake”, was getting caught the mistake? It has to be.  Do you know how devastating that is?
(Yeah-I know, I know… you already told me that you don’t) Obviously that’s what you meant, otherwise, you would’ve tried to give us a second chance.

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You had no feelings at all for me after six years of being the love of your life, future wife, forever partner, and all of the other things you always told me. I thought that you were fully truthful to me; I thought that was the foundation of our relationship.  I found out so much after we broke up; things you should have told me. Important things you could have told me. I bared my soul to you and you hid yours from me. Why?

Oh…right. So you could hook up with a much younger, intellectual, fun, beautiful Russian and tell her that you had “never been so open” in your life.

I just keep asking the universe why this happened.
I get nothing back.
Nothing.
Just like what I get from you after being a devoted, loving, concerned, helpful, giving, faithful girlfriend.

Mistakes? Yeah. I made them. Hurtful, miserably snarky words to you.
But none, NONE – can compare with how you played with my life.
And I loved you enough to try again.
You walked away and never.looked.back.
No guilt, no remorse, no love lost.

Oh, Bob. . .God. . .I loved you so much.
I wanted for us to be what you always said we would be. . .
I believed you and trusted you. I wanted you to come back so badly. I hoped you loved me . . .I wanted to find you back in our bed. . .Oh God. . .It took months before I’d stop peeking out the kitchen door while I was making dinner , waiting for you to come home. Months to stop *shopping* for you and wondering if you were taking care of your physical and mental health. Missing that smile you gave me upon our first meet-up that ended up being a smile that melted my heart every time you gave it to me. Needing to feel the butterflies I got reaching out for you when I would tell you that I needed a hug.
How crushing these blows have been.

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I miss you and us and our life. You can’t possibly comprehend that, either, I know. You had moved on swiftly and easily.
You have a lover and a new life of happiness, adventure, excitement and complete bliss. Do you know how that feels for me? (Yes, rhetorical.)
How could you have held me close and tight all those hundreds of times in bed and told me you loved me so much and make me promise that I would never leave you? Tell me again how I was your best friend and the most important thing in your life? I wanted you. Only you. For all of infinity.

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Tell me again how I’ll never get rid of you?
Never mind.
Got it.

“Light will keep your heart beating in the future” ~ M Doughty

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I wish Bob loved me.
I wish he needed me.
I wish he longed for me.

But he doesn’t.

I wish he hadn’t left.
I wish he hadn’t left me.
I wish he hadn’t left me damaged.

But he did.

I think about us.
I think about that bridge.
I think about my kids.

And I cry.

I think about mistakes.
I think about crashing.
I think about my family.

And it hurts.

I hope I can kiss him.
I hope I go quickly.
I hope I stay strong.

And it’s insanity.

I hope for miracles.
I hope for relief.
I hope for love.

And it’s what gets me thru.

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♡Dedicated to my children♡

Ria Rita

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I ran into a long-time friend while I was at the market today. We met when my family moved in across the street from hers when we were both six years old.
We have spent a ton of time – and years together.
She said that she had wanted to tell me something but she didn’t want to upset me.
*heavy sigh*
My mom had a photo of Bob and me in her hospital room. She would have my friend hand her the photo (my mom was legally blind) every time and she would  say “Look at how happy Ri is. Bob is such a good guy. He is my angel.”
Who would have ever imagined that we would be meeting in a grocery store, 48 years later, hugging and having her tell me she didn’t mean to make me cry.
Crazy.
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House and Home

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I envision him driving his Infiniti that he loves so much, wearing the Ray Bans he got from my cousin on Nantucket, smiling and pulling into the driveway. His hair all blown forward from having the windows down and the sunroof open.
Opening the front door: “I’m home!”

Yeah. You totally were.
And so was I.

But you’re not anymore.
And neither am I.

And it really fucking hurts.