Loss

Me There is a lot I’ve avoided writing about in the name of not showing anyone where my heart is. I write a lot about romantic/sexual relationships as if they are so important. They are kind of important in terms of being a basis of society, but to me, in and of themselves, they are not as big a source of suffering as I may make it seem from the volume of text. I’ll remind y’all that I’m actually quite spoiled on account of deciding early in life to avoid trusting people I don’t know well. I’ve been saved from a lot more suffering than I could have done simply because I never required humans to be even close to perfect to love them, and I understood well that loving someone doesn’t mean trusting them implicitly. Thing is, without that trust, I can love someone to death, but sex is just mechanical and medicinal. They could literally be anybody not openly hostile.

Nobody who has been with me under 5 years has anything precious enough of mine in their hands to really break. The only real emotional loss from the “heartbreaks” of the past 11 years has been a sense of freedom of expression. Whenever I have to withdraw from someone, I have to recalibrate my expression to prevent repeating the mistake, but even that got solved by realizing the primary mistake, which was expressing romantic type sentiments towards anyone unproven. It’s medicine, but it’s not worth the side effects which include disgust with myself for allowing someone who wanted to harm me or steal something from me, to think that they could. In the end, I was always more angry with myself than with them, and the hurt was like, “Oh the audacity of that worm.” Thankfully most of those worms have matured into fine young men who are good fathers and gentlemen, so my taste wasn’t horrid, but still.

I wondered what would happen the next time someone hit on me after the realization. Every time it’s gone something like him asking me what my type is, and me answering loyal, strong, and consistent. A couple of times, I’ve even gone ahead and used the term “demisexual” so they have something for the search engine. I’ve been doing quite well at making it very clear that they have no way in but the long way. I’m no longer forcing myself to generate horniness for people I don’t trust.

I didn’t get this way just from being smart. I got this way from death. Once you’ve lost a life, the rest is something you mention because it’s important to others, but it’s nowhere close to that silence in a sonogram where a heartbeat should be, or breathing in their last little breath.

My first three real losses, a stillbirth and two miscarriages, contained lessons in the fact that men who aren’t fully solid are death. I assume that anyone trying to have sex with me is bringing death unless or until they prove otherwise because for me, that has been true. With the third, it was my own as well as the baby’s. I had to spend some time in the special hospital ward after that one.

Every Eve of Hallows, Samhain, or whatever one wishes to call the international week of ancestor observance, I reflect on my departed loved ones old and young, including my youngest. I understand that I will be joining them someday in the Orun. Since the day I bled out and visited, I have had to wake up most days consciously deciding to stay, and do what it took to stay productive for the sake of my loved ones still here with me. For some reason, it is important to me that before I go or before they go, they know I love them. It’s important as well for the world of loving people to know I am among them.

As for those who are full of too much hate or confusion, I have no illusions of division from them, but as I understand those aspects of my inner mind self are harmful and need to be controlled, so do those outside of my body. They need to understand that cooperation sustains life, and I am on team life. Those who can’t keep the balance are mutated cannibalistic cells in the body of humanity. They should fear me.

Soon I will be beginning the second half century of my life. Most likely within the next 50 years, the living will lose me. I am grateful for the time I have been here, and the lessons I have learned before I am too old to enjoy the fruits of the knowledge. I am extremely grateful for the extension of gifts that many if not most people lose by the end of their chronological youth. I am happy to be a somewhat hot old lady after a youth of being quite plain.

I am especially grateful for the people I had the privilege to know while they were here. I miss them. The ones who taught me spiritual secrets, and the ones who stood up for me despite others’ judgement and hate, and the ones who gave me love even when I had trouble even knowing what that was.

I am grateful for the living. I am so thankful for having love in my life. So many don’t have anyone who really gives a shit about them. I do, and I am so happy that I do. Before I lose them or they lose me, I hope I do that some justice.

IronWynch

My pronouns are whatever you're comfortable with as long as you speak to me with respect. I'm an Afruikan and Iswa refugee living in Canaan. That's African American expat in Israel in Normalian. I build websites, make art, and assist people in exercising their spirituality. I'm also the king of an ile, Baalat Teva, a group of African spirituality adherents here. Feel free to contact me if you are in need of my services or just want to chat.

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