For some background info, please read Matters of the Heart  Matters of the Heart (2)

I guess I've never spoken about Jason. I didn't mention a word when we broke up. I pretended I had no pangs when he picked up his belongings and slid his key under the door. I had anticipated the break up. I had aided it. I was still shocked when it happened. He didn't even have the balls to do it face to face, just a simple phone call. He called me while he was with her. Funny he made a similar phone call to his ex when we started dating. It's what I deserved, I'm sure.

I'm not angry or sad anymore. But bloody hell do I miss him.

Especially since I moved to the valley...I find myself listening to country songs on the drive to and back from Nelson. I stare too long at tall, dark haired men.I had a dream telling me he was dead, not corporeally, I'm sure, but I guess it's my subconscious's way of letting me know that it is time for me to let him go. I've been hanging on to him for the past two years, not really allowing myself to feel for anyone else...not that I've met anyone who's wanted me the way he seemed to. Two years and at first I tried to exorcise myself through one mindless hookup after another, but they all seemed to be deeper shades of Jerk and none had his ability to make my body sing. Then I took this vow of celibacy that lasted over a year, but I just broke it. Actually I broke it twice.

On my birthday I met a blonde somebody with a topknot. He massaged my back and I agreed to follow him home, which proved to be quite the lucrative decision, because I ended up getting a thorough massage at a time when my body was a throbbing mass of aches and bruises from putting the garden together. He was drunk, and seemingly eager to get intimate and I went along with it...only he couldn't maintain his erection. Not only that, but I was so shocked by how unaroused I was! I had no intention of sleeping with the man when I went home with him, but we started talking, and the candles, and the massage, and such a gentleman he was...

I went home thinking there was something wrong with me. Something in the back of my head told me it had to do with Jason but I ignored that little whisper quite conveniently. But it dawned on me over the next few weeks that I was looking for him in every man I met.

Someone whom I was close to, who had told me at the get-go that he had no interest in me romantically...well...he was lying...ended up shocking me to the point where I finally realized that as much as I walked around this past year pretending I'm not a sexual being, others hadn't stopped seeing me in that manner. I'd grown comfortable with the idea that I was not attractive and men didn't want me. I made an effort to 'pretty myself up' when I went out but it was for my own benefit and I am aware of male attention, but I have trouble associating any meaning to that kind of vapid, superficial interest. How many men have salivated over my form in a tight outfit, how many have professed their love to me? Out of the drooling masses, you'll be surprised how few would actually take me home to meet their mother, much less inform her that they are dating outside of their race.

I'm an exotic oddity, I'm a sexual fetish, I'm labelled crazy when I actually show an interest in a guy's life. I'm frigid when I don't respond to catcalls, I'm a slut when I give in to temptation. It got really hard, dealing with my sense of self-worth and my desire, my frustration...I've been single for two years now and not a night goes by where I am not hyper-aware of the empty spot by my side, the spot once filled by a 'husband' who had no regards for my humanity, then a lover I never really appreciated until he disappeared out of my life.

I let him go, fervently hanging on to the idea that it was time for me to set out into the world untethered, it was time for me to have something I could call my own, something that couldn't be wrenched from me the moment anyone decided to walk out of the door. He claimed to have wanted me to become his wife, but those plans died the moment I went through with the abortion. He held me that evening, while Mitch packed his things and left, once again, without saying goodbye to his daughter. He held me the whole night but something happened to me: I stopped feeling. I stopped loving. I hardened like a fucking rock. I knew then it would not take long before he too was gone.

I was always searching for him when I first arrived here. I wasn't looking for him with my eyes, since I know he's probably somewhere back in Alberta (happily married somewhere probs.). I reached out with that sense no one tells you about in grade school: That flutter, or drop in your belly when you lay eyes on someone whom you fancy, the hair raising off your skin as you sense an interested gaze... Like the first time I laid eyes on him at the Oolong Tea house...I remember bumping into a chair making my way to him, feeling like a deer caught in the headlight, because of the way he was staring at me. I don't think I can remember anyone ever staring at me like that, and I'm not sure anyone will again...

Yes, my heart dropped to my knees and took a while to find its rightful place again! He made me laugh the way no friend ever has. My mother spoke to him on our second date and she was impressed. Two weeks into dating I met his lovely, lovely parents. I'd gone from being ostracized, lied about and used like a sex doll by Mitch to finally discovering what being in a healthy relationship entailed. I truly made love for the first time and I've yet to meet anyone who could match his ability to make me...come at will...I felt so naked in front of him and he knew it. Our bodies seemed to fall into a rhythmic dance every time we laid together and he paid attention to every need. We went around with Lilo and we felt like a unit, a family, the three of us and Mitch wasn't going to let me have that. He didn't want me, but damn if I was happy!

He brought me a dozen roses after I came back from Kelowna with Mitch (I had to get him out of the hospital against doctors wishes because nobody gave a damn about the fact that I had to get my work permit and residency papers in order and he had to be present, but he and his family didn't want to help me take care of myself and the child ) and I still have the stems! They were the first roses a man had ever given me. He told me he loved me and I loved him despite my desire to resume 'a relationship' with my hex. I felt stupid, felt like I didn't deserve him and hated myself for being, at that point, still in love with the other guy, but since he'd been so eager to move on from my daughter and I, I felt no remorse. And Mitch just fucked with me because he was threatened by Jason's presence. The moment he saw how easy it was to play me into believing he wanted to reconcile, I was useless again.

It took knowing someone like Jason and being loved by him to finally realize how little Mitch actually thought of me, to actually see through his lies and halfhearted attempts at stringing me along and making me believe he cared for me. How could I want someone who wouldn't even hold my hand when we were out in public when I finally had a man who actually wanted to be a father to his own daughter? You would think I learned this lesson while I was dating Jason...but no, I first allowed myself to be goaded into believing Mitch was upset that I was dating someone (we had separated in June 2009 and Mitch at that point had long been cheating on me with whomever would have him)
He pays attention to me for a day or two and suddenly I'm back in his arms. And by the time the pregnancy test turned positive I had no idea who was the father of the child inside of me.

Just as with Lilo, I was in between birth control methods. One month. And I'm starting to wonder whether my hormones spike at that time, because on both occasions I was overtly active, found myself constantly amorous and irresponsible as heck. And the extra partner didn't help. I was afraid I was going to be stuck raising two children by myself. I was not about to have another one of Mitch's offspring so he could abandon that one too. And Jason claimed he wanted children but not then nor I'm sure, was he willing to raise two of Mitch's children. And yes, he had every single right to despise me at that point but he didn't seem to. He was there for me and I hated myself even more for it. Four days after Christmas, which we all celebrated together, with Mitch's aunt stopping by, I found myself crying in the abortion clinic hall, waiting for my turn.

My ex disappeared the day after the abortion. Jason is gone a few months later. And I sink in a depression for about a year, decide to move out to Nelson and leave that all behind me. I thought I would have left Jason behind too. I pretended he never existed for a year. Then it hit me like a brick and I had to get out of Calgary. I finally realized I'd lost real love, and even worse, I'd thrown it away for someone who never really appreciated me.

I used to think Jason would show up one day and we'll resume our relationship, completely oblivious, of course, to the many differences that could have ultimately ended our relationship. They were not fundamental differences though, if I really think about it. I just happened to meet a soul mate at the worst fucking time imaginable. I was already emotionally depleted from my time trying to make Mitch love and notice my daughter and I. Jason did his best to help, but I had little to give in return, then nothing. It took me making the move to Nelson and then Winlaw, completely immersing myself into this lifestyle change, going to a few parties, meeting a valley-load of people and experiencing the day to day lull of life in the Kootenays for 6 months before I was able to unearth feelings that I'd pushed down, so deep, just to be able to handle my eleven hour a day work shift at the bakery.

I started trying to open my heart as soon as I arrived but slowly came to the realisation that I was really not comfortable with the idea of being with anyone by the end of this summer. Then I went to the market and I saw the man I mention in a previous post. Correction: I saw my older brother, then I saw this man. Remember that feeling I mentioned previously? I'm not sure if it was the same sensation per say It felt even stronger, as if something underneath my skin began to buzz.

I've gotten in the habit of trusting my intuition and it's led me down some questionable alleys. I had to chase a few ghosts before finding myself in this wonderful place. So for the most part I trust it. When I got that body 'flush' I figured I oughta investigate it. When I asked about him, warnings all I got, ha ha. Don't go there! He has a girlfriend! Etc... I found myself behaving like a sixteen year old trying to talk to him. I was pretty upset at myself about getting tongue-tied in front of him, but that wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for the dreams.

The damn dreams! In October, when I returned to Calgary for a brief visit to Mitch's aunt that did not end well, I had the first one. Real cute, sappy emotional stuff. I wouldn't mention it if it wasn't for the fact that towards the end of the dream we had to get out of the cars we and a group of people were riding in, and climb onto waiting horses to descend down a steep road that curved to the right between a row of trees. Then out of nowhere a classmate from Emily Carr appears in the dream and flat out tells me that this guy and I can't be together, he's not mine to have. Strange, right? Not only are real live friends warning me off, but dream ones as well.

Nope. It gets stranger. Not too long ago I went by his place, and decided to take his own driveway, which I knew existed down the road from the main entrance on the property, but I'd never attempted to use it until that afternoon. I find it...it's a sharp turn, and I freeze, as I find myself in the fucking driveway I'd seen in my dreams. As I try to reverse the car, I see it says on a tree on the right 'No Motorized Vehicles'. I was...freaked the fuck out. Would have liked to just drive out of there, but I had to drive all the way to the other side, plus there was the business of talking to him. It's become so awkward I'll rather just refrain from the activity. The experience, I've had only once before, that of seeing a place in dream before visiting it in waking time, and it had not been that long before: I saw the yurt before I visited it and it had looked the same as in my dreams. At the 'painting house' I found myself wandering by the garden a few nights, not too far from my slumbering body. I should note, the sun never shines in dream-reality, the sky always seems 'lidded' and I feel trapped in a dome of some sort, always trying to peer through impenetrable clouds.

I'm not even going into the 'white dog' thing. That started back in Calgary, months before I moved out to Nelson. Creepy stuff. Pretty much I started seeing it everywhere, at bookstores, on pop ups on the internet, thinking about it. I only noticed it in retrospect, though I remember reading something in a Mayan calendar ...something! I'm not sure! I don't believe in that stuff! Cue to the Twilight Zone theme song.

The second dream I won't go into details...but same ending: Avoid this man, he's not to be had. I was very confused but heeded the warning. Fuck, everyone tried to warn me about Mitch, remember that one, silly girl?  My daughter started calling everyman we met by his name. I think she was just fucking with my head. I was...crushing like a little school girl and I felt responsible for the feelings I was experiencing. It's so easy to fall in love with a 2-D mental representation of a person, I've done it before. But oh, I couldn't make my mind let it go. Still can't to a certain level. I have no idea what to say in terms of the dejavu angle. It would be nice to get some 'expert' advice on it. This is definitely the place for that. I saw him around Christmas and I think it's safe to say I'm capable of being in the same room as him and ignore him. Yay for self mastery and control!

I'm sure his lady love appreciates it.

I'm sure the reason why this got so carried away is because I've been sitting by my lone self for so long trying to deny myself feelings a woman my age ought to have: I'm lonely and I yearn to feel, touch, lick and take a good pounding once in a while. And you know what, holding hands wouldn't be such a terrible thing, would it? I've been trying to embrace this denial and give myself to the idea of having a more spiritual life, certainly learning how to harness these curious abilities no mainstream media outlet would cover an article on. However I'm afraid my gnawing need for companionship needs to be managed before I start astral stalking a man who wants nothing to do with me. I've been holding out for love but instead I get the usual stuff. Men who are after only one thing. Am I willing to give it to just any guy? No. I expect a connection of some sort, because clearly I'm off one night stands and mindless encounters. That being said I've been waiting for a good thing to land on my lap again and that's not happening. I'm perhaps, just not attracted to the right kind of people. Not sure about that.

There are times when I ask my self if I'm not simply in the wrong place. However, I do strongly feel like I've come down here for a reason, I'm not sure what that reason is yet. I feel the pulls and shoves of Divinity and I see its effects in my life, but I can't for the life of me make sense of a lot of what I experience .

I went to a party last weekend and found myself in the morning chilling in front of a lake, pooped out from running all over that night, with my daughter, just woken from her sleep, leaning on me. And it was as if another part of me was trying to pull away from the both of us to resume dancing in the living room. And that warm spot between my legs was throbbing harder than I've ever felt it throb before. Just before baby awoke and ruined mama's fun I'd happened to find myself sandwiched between two men and heard, for the first time in my life the words 'have you ever had two holes filled at once' whispered to me. I thought I was just going to melt in a puddle of need right then and there but I was strong! I did not have a threesome with two strangers and I hate myself for it.

The past four years in my life have been an angst-ridden mess and I want to dance like the twenty four years young person that I am. I'm tired of the sorrow. I could use a break from the responsibility. I've been single parenting for three years with no real support and it's driving me mad. I'm tired of wax analyzing anything. I just want... my feelings reciprocated by someone capable of experiencing true love. Or a really good fuck.