Lucky number 7

I’m coming to you liiiiiive, from my own kitchen on this Sunday night.

It’s been seven whole days of no drinks and somewhat healthier living.

For the first day today, I feel better, physically and emotionally, it gives me hope.

But fuck I’m bored!  I’ve never been so much between these walls since I’ve moved here.

It’s good for my wallet, my waistline and my brain, so I’ll keep it up a while longer.  I even said no to several rendez-vous, some that were harder than others (pun intended)

There is also a whooooole other reason why I’m deciding to change things around, I had a boob biopsy last Friday.  Yup, my right boob is sporting a very sexy huge white with bloody spots bandaid at this moment and I have not taken a decent shower in 3 days.

No worries folks, I’m still washing myself….with a facecloth and giving myself the royal treatment of shampoos in the kitchen sink.

Spirit is still great, making jokes like always, about life little shitty stuff.

There is something very humbling about being half naked not for sexual purposes but with a needle (not a dick) stuck between your boobs.  It made me realise little things that I obviously forgot the last three years of disease free.  I forgot what it was like to have your own life on hold,  to be sick and honestly I don’t wanna be again.

Who wants to be?

I’m in the waiting zone now.  The blurry line, between health and sickness.

In the meantime I stay busy, watching Netflix, spending time with quality friends and family, writing a lot, reading a lot more and just reconnecting with myself.

And staying positive, most of the time, because I’m still human, and humans are scared, and do sometime think darker worlds.

But ya know, I don’t think about my divorce anymore, that’s one great thing that came out of this.  It became, all of a sudden, not a priority.  I also had a huge crush on a man here, even though he was ignoring me most of the time, we always chase the one’s we can’t have, that too took the back burner.

Fuck him.

Love is weird.  Why are we so afraid of it?  Afraid of getting hurt, when the only way to love is actually that, to be open to being hurt, without it, there is no love.

Was texting with yet another stranger last night, first thing he told me was, I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.


Who is?  No one!  Because love catches you when you least expect it, not when you actually look for it.  Looking for it makes it suddenly disappear.  Love is the greatest magician.

Here are some rules I believe at the moment about love.  It might change with age and more wisdom. But for now, here it goes…

Love is infinite, you can actually love more than one person at the same time, for different reasons and possibilities.

When someone tells me they are afraid of love, I think maybe they are afraid of themselves.

Love is fucking scary.

Love is not fucking.

Love takes different form.  You can love a single glimpse that someone gives you and feel the butterflies for a brief instant without wanting a whole life with them.

Love does not judge.

With retrospect, in my own life, I might have truly loved twice in forty years.

You can say I love you in a minute and mean it for a lifetime, you can say I love you after a long time and mean it for a minute.

Being scared of love is not good, it might cheat you in seeing what’s right in front of you.

Listen to your gut feeling, always.

Be free with love, don’t be afraid of being hurt, so what if you are, you will cry and get back up, better cry and have lived a beautiful story then have cowardly walked passed it.

That’s my 2 cents for tonight folks!

I’m a tiny bit tired, of aaaaaallll that non-partying!  My bed is calling my name, I might crawl in and cuddle him…..



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