Realms of Sleep and Longing

I write sipping tea ---

"I think you have to accept where you are," she addresses my ongoing discontent with my weight.

Some echoes in my head agreed, but a pain invaded my mid-back, causing me to shift uncomfortably.

Am I limited by my striving, wanting, longing -?

It feels that way.

Pretty Jane was in my dream, and I think it's because Francis often shows a sad sweet vulnerability, especially around her. It is in his vulnerability that I trust; and when he shamed me for my promiscuity, as his language implies, I saw his truth in seeking sweet Jane.

He was in my dreams, the one that has invaded the realms of longing and feeling and light for years. I think my exhausted body wanted to exhaust my mind, and he exercised me with a serious selfish conviction: that he was there, but not present with me; there some times, most often not, but the times that he were, I thought, outweighed the times that he isn't - I felt the old familiar emotions of being slighted, running the circling pattern of leaving myself exposed to his harsh wind for anything that he wanted, needed - forgetting me, my wants and needs. Then he slowly turned to my most recent lover, and my heart beats doubly, because I wanted things to be different, I wanted someone who could meet me in my own pain and bouts of darkness, who saw my want and love of poetry and its sharing, my chasing after sunsets and living for the sun rising, my tears, my love for physical affection, all sorts of affection, complete love and caring.

Oh my God.

I want someone to care for me.

I deeply want to be taken care of.

I've been hearing women say that all year...

And had accepted their truths, not realizing

that it is also mine.