Archive for the Life & All That Jazz Category

It Doesn’t Matter

Posted in Completely Random, Life & All That Jazz, Love or Hate (depending) on July 12, 2010 by Magistra

It doesn’t matter how well it ends… or rather how well it appears to end.  There are always hurt feelings to sort through.

I like to think of myself as enlightened and self aware.  I like believing that I am above hard feelings and being hurt.  I like to think that knowing the truth is better than believing a lie.  And I know it is better to be single than be in a relationship with someone who isn’t there, who you have doubts about, who has stopped pursuing and connecting with me.  But none of that matters because when a relationship ends, even when it ends well, there is no way to not hurt, question, or wonder.

Women and men are different in how they deal with things.  Men’s hearts are like long unending hallways with rooms on either side.  With men, problems are put in a room.  If the problem is dealt with the door is closed, locked, and not revisited.  If the problem is not dealt with the door is open to the hallway and whatever garbage is in that room festers and stinks up the hallway until it is taken care of and closed off from the rest of his world.  Simple.  Women are nothing like that.

Women’s hearts are like warehouses with endless rows of shelves.  Problems, hurts, fears, events, feelings… These aren’t locked up and closed away, they’re put into boxes that are meticulously labeled, cross referenced, and organized on those shelves.  Only a thin piece of cardboard lies between those things and woman.  That which is undealt with litters the floors so she trips, slips, falls, fusses over it until she resolves it and stacks it away with the rest.  But even when everything from this event is resolved, that trip to the shelves is a trip down memory lane.  Every other hurt received at the end of every other relationship, even if this relationship has not brought any hurts, are revisited once that new box is brought to the shelf.  Every doubt, fear, insecurity, angry word, betrayal is revisited simply by proximity in the warehouses of our hearts.

I am no different than every other woman.  It makes no difference that this last relationship ended in the friendship from which it began.  It doesn’t matter that I know he wasn’t investing in the relationship because his hallway had some royal stink from a couple rooms full of issues that hadn’t been dealt with.  I was still hurt because my warehouse was clean, organized, put away.  My warehouse was spotless but the smells from his hallway penetrated it anyway.  And cleaning up after our unhappy ending left me revisiting that awful corner of my own heart filled with the pains left behind every time I haven’t been the one that was chosen.

That’s what the matter is right now: I know that I wasn’t chosen.  And no matter how well this relationship ended, not being chosen always hurts because it means a trip to that corner of my warehouse.

© Dulcinea 2010. All rights reserved.



Posted in Life & All That Jazz on June 25, 2010 by Magistra

I want to believe you

I want to believe there is a reason,

A future,

A hope.

But I just don’t see

The life,

The dream,

Anything more than

The same things I’ve seen before

© Dulcinea 2010. All rights reserved.


Posted in Life & All That Jazz, Love or Hate (depending) on June 20, 2010 by Magistra

I don’t know how to proceed

I know what I feel

And that he’s not ready to feel the same things

I don’t know what step I should take

In this epic journey of romance

As I search for the person

Whose puzzle pieces fit my own

And wondering if this man

Who wants to check my brakes and power stearing

Just to make sure they’re okay

Who jumps out of bed in the middle of the night

To save me from the palmetto bug

Who is as conscientious about what I can eat

As I am

If he is the piece that fits my own

© Dulcinea 2010. All rights reserved.


Posted in Life & All That Jazz, Politics & Ulcers, Soapboxes on May 22, 2010 by Magistra

I’m tired of the drama
Of the haters
Of the press

I’m tired of being told what to wear
What to think
How to dress

I’m tired of being subjected to anger
Pure jealousy
And unveiled cruelty

I’m tired of hearing her screams every night as they fight
His fists hitting I’m not sure what
Her stifled sobs

I’m tired of being attacked for standing up for what is right
Being targeted for speaking truth
For holding fast

I’m tired of meanness from strangers
From friends
From colleagues

I’m tired of double speaking
And lies

I’m tired of seeing people sit on their ass all day and do nothing
I’m tired of working my ass off to pay for them to do so
I’m tired of learned helplessness and sloth

I’m tired of bitchy women and hateful men
Of the people who think they have a license to be asinine
To judge

I’m tired of doing the right thing to see others drop the ball
Fall for an excuse
Or make one

I’m tired of being constantly bombarded by negativity and hate
Of being the voice of reason
Preaching to an empty choir loft

I’m just so fucking tired of it all

© Dulcinea 2010. All rights reserved.


Posted in Life & All That Jazz, Love or Hate (depending), Politics & Ulcers on May 3, 2010 by Magistra


shush me
interrupt me
abuse me
mock me
ignore me
push me around
insult me
treat me like a child or an idiot
embarrass me


expect me to sit back quietly and take abuse
treat me like I’m on layaway
underestimate me
think that just because you’re in my world you’re there to stay

Don’t forget…

I am a woman.
I deserve respect.
I should be treated with gentility, kindness, and caring.

Don’t forget…

That I chose to let you in,
And I can choose to close you out.

© Dulcinea 2010. All rights reserved.

After The Storm

Posted in Completely Random, Life & All That Jazz, Love or Hate (depending) on May 2, 2010 by Magistra

After the storm
When the Sun arises
The world is new
A clean slate
Eagerly anticipating
That which you will make of it

The sunshine warms
The weary soul
And the Life that you thought was dead
Surrounds you

There is no more despair
No failing heart
No fear
And the memories
Seem so far
So distant
As if they were never real
But just a shadow
From a dream long ago

Only hope
And an eagerness to explore the world again
Are present
After the storm has passed

© Dulcinea 2010. All rights reserved.

A Collage of Feelings

Posted in Life & All That Jazz, Love or Hate (depending) on May 2, 2010 by Magistra

Whenever one relationship ends, there exists a time where feelings seem to be so strong that there isn’t a way to find the end of one and the beginning of another. But as time passes and healing takes place, all the thoughts and feelings become painfully clear.  Sometimes this time is like a roller coaster of emotion as all that was buried rises to the surface, scattered and long after the wounds were made, like bubbles in the middle of the ocean after an eruption on the ocean floor.  Happily, once surfaced, they are acknowledged and dismissed and freedom exists once more, like the day a cast is finally removed.  This is a chronicle of just such a time.  Although deeply personal, I am sharing these because I never want to forget what it is to be alive.  The words escaped as the last bits of emotional connection were expelled and total freedom was mine once more.  Despite the sometimes darkness associated with the words, the time to reflect upon and acknowledge the pain was freeing and peace bringing.

Sunshine soaking into my weary soul reminding me of happy days past and whispering secrets of the joys yet to come.
© Dulcinea April 3, 2010. All rights reserved.

As a silkworm measures it’s way across my ivory stomach, I soak up waning sunlight transfixed in a single moment.
© Dulcinea April 4, 2010. All rights reserved.

Missing the other,
The one that made me peaceful,
And who captured me.
© Dulcinea April 4, 2010. All rights reserved.

Long toned legs stretching out in front of me tired from today’s fun and ready to go cut a rug tomorrow night on the town.
© Dulcinea April 5, 2010. All rights reserved.

Watching the sun settle in the west, beams leaking through the bamboo shade as the frogs begin to croak and the ducks settle for night.
© Dulcinea April 5, 2010. All rights reserved.

Hooray for sunshine,
And the kind of rest it brings,
Clarity and peace.
© Dulcinea April 5, 2010. All rights reserved.

I am reminded
Of disappointments
Of broken promises
Of being second.
I am reminded
Of being ignored
Of unkind words
Of being forgotten.
I am reminded
Of brokenness
Of tears
Of being alone.
I am also reminded
Of hope
Of dreams
Of a desire not to settle for less than butterflies.
I am reminded.
© Dulcinea April 6, 2010. All rights reserved.

I’m stuck in that frustrating purgatory consisting of desires, reality, and the inequalities therein.
© Dulcinea April 7, 2010. All rights reserved.

Thursdays never seem to end up the way you want. They’re deceptive that way since the sun went down in my world and the silent night began, that cold dark indigo. At this point, I’d rather just let the day fade into oblivion.
© Dulcinea April 8, 2010. All rights reserved.

I sit alone
What has become of something so grand
Something so peaceful
When the world that was
Is turned upside down
By three little words
“This really sucks.”
© Dulcinea April 10, 2010. All rights reserved.

I am glad to be going back to the busy distraction of work instead of soaking in the aloneness of the end.
© Dulcinea April 11, 2010. All rights reserved.

I am free
To sing
To dance
To choose
I am free
Of fear
Of disappointment
Of anger
I am free
And happy once again
© Dulcinea April 12, 2010. All rights reserved.

The truth about the happy ending…

The Storm began
Blowing away the calm
Forcing all signs of Life into hiding
Hiding what stars would otherwise shine in the darkness
One thunderous blow after another
As wave upon wave of storm
Crash down upon me
I’m stuck
Waiting it out is the only option
And waiting for signs of Life to return
For the calm to return
The Storm to end
For the moment when the clouds break
When the stars return
For a short time
The light comes again
And ends the night
The long, stormy night

Then the day will begin
And full of hope.
© Dulcinea April 8, 2010. All rights reserved.