man. mercury went into aries yesterday and so did my mouth. anger and frustration rising, looming like red flames licking up my sides. sick of the same ole life long pattern of romantic pain, frustration, withdrawals, lessons, and solitude. feeling dark. but getting creative with it, as karina, one of my yoga teachers, re-focused us yesterday on be-friending anger. synchronistic. right. don’t resist. it’s only a feeling. inspired by a muse, i took a black and white self shot, and dressed in dark existential gear, stared out at bone cave ballet last night, finding romance in the hungry and lonely heart beating in this chest. stories of hopelessness and despair do not exist though…as i walk the middle path of accepting my feelings and reality for exactly what it is. plus, the cards show him every time i pull. my love. the king of pentacles. whomever he is…he is loyal to me in the cards, even though we are not physically together yet. so it’s a matter of faith. and also, a matter of navigating through life without drenching in any of its seductive stories. i wont allow myself to feel guilty for wanting love so much. i am a lover. and i wont pollyanna these feelings into submission either. i am free. not going to apologize for needing a harmonious match. not going to compromise the essentials. i am the queen of swords too. logical. reasonable. objective. like wine, i grow more refined. though my youthful spirit never leaves either. felt 20 last night. not drink myself into oblivion and act unconscious 20. but poetic, passionate, and romantic 20. no matter how much love schools my ass, i bounce right back, buoyant as a sunrise. i don’t know who is right for me, but i do know the connection will be fulfilling and teach us both lessons, as both pleasure and challenge will take turns, coursing through the relationship. is it ironic i am officiating a wedding and teaching a class on the lovers card in the next few weeks? yes and no. i may not have the experience of a harmonious and long lasting passionate love, but i do have the knowledge. i’m like good will hunting. i know true love when i see it too…as i see it in the couple i am marrying. vented with a friend last night. caught myself saying to him that i am too much for anybody, and that the only women who get away with being too much, look like supermodels. that was my adolescent talking. the part of me tired of men wanting my physical beauty, and then wanting to minimize and tone down my personality. i wont apologize for the magical, wise, paradoxical, shit cutting, passionate, vast, philosophical, deep, sensitive, free spirit i am. or for not having much money, or for having flaws, and set backs in life. would rather be alone then squeeze myself into a man’s idea of who he thinks i should be so he can feel safe. the king of pentacles will feel safe in my love. it’s hard for me to be attracted to men too. very few men do i feel attracted to. seems like the few i do feel it with, don’t want me that way, are not available, or we don’t connect in some vital way even if there’s an attraction. like i told my friend last night, until it’s the right match, it’s the wrong match. not that it’s about right or wrong. more like, one person will always feel it more than the other, until it’s equal. but it’s not always like that either. my ex from last year, we equally loved each other, but i ended it because i saw with my objective eyes, that we were incompatible in an essential way. i needed more. it is what it is. you gotta be realistic in this life. or, i choose to be realistic rather, to avoid unnecessary drama and pain. cause life doles out enough essential drama and pain as it is. there’s a variety of causes for the birth and death of every love. there are no guarantees. this is old news. i accept the news of human reality on planet earth in the realm of romantic love. we each have our back stories. my back story has been wrought with denial, fantasy, avoiding. i don’t stay long in what i know is not healthy for me. but i am great at avoiding romantic love all together. the unconscious sabotage is to avoid sexual love. i am not a victim. i created this. so it’s taken a while, to let go of a certain suffering to open myself. or so this is the story i tell myself. every meaning is an illusion and meaningless at the core. poof, it’s gone. no more stories i tell myself. all i know is, i am a creature, and i desire touch, romance, and a partner. i am tired of being the lone spiritual warrior, which most likely has been an excuse on some deep jungian level. i let her go too. i let go of my back story’s archetypes, meanings, and myth. i change. wash myself clean of myself as rumi puts it. here i exist, vulnerable. turning my dark feelings into creative beauty….as i ripen on the vine of life.