Scorecards

I wish my father was different.

I wish he loved me more than his money.

I wish he loved me enough to help me with my health challenges instead of denying their existence entirely, preferring to see me as a lazy loser, than as a delicate flower, or “sickly” as he referred to me in my youth.

I’ve known his story for years… The story about how he lost his hearing in his right ear when he was a boy because his father couldn’t afford pay for medical attention for the infection in both ears, only one ear… the cold heartedness of the Doctor demanding payment up front and his refusal to treat both ears based on ability to pay. It was The Depression, and it warped him forever.

Here’s my story…

I have a father with more money than anybody even knows… And he won’t help his daughter when she is sick… Not even to refer her to someone, even though he’s a doctor himself. No suggestions other than to take a cab to an emergency room when I am unable to eat or keep food in my body for 10 days while I handle the cleaning and staging of his (technically my) rental property, alone, in a city where I know no one.

He denies that I have so much to do every spring to make the property rentable by professional standards. He insists that his pathetic eyesight can discern the filthy mess he leaves each year as “clean and ready for renters “

It never is.

I scrub and scrub.

I always leave that place exhausted, overwhelmed and depressed.

Thank goodness he doesn’t leave the Internet or garbage running for my staging efforts!

That would make things TOO EASY.

I chose to be an artist, so, according to him, not only should I NOT make money, I should suffer for the rest of my life for being so foolish.

I do not deserve “easy”.

I do not deserve love.

You “win”, Dad

But only because you’re the one keeping score.

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Simple

I like simple.

But Life is not simple.

Attempting to make it so kills the passion.

It’s those intangible details, the uncontrollable ones, the ones that keep you on the edge of your seat, that not only light the fire, but keep the embers hot.

Sure, it’s cleaner, more convenient, to keep ones passions in a drawer for those moments when you are ready.

But like your left sock in the dryer, one day they will disappear, and you will treat it like a freaking mystery.

I Want You

He would claim ignorance when I spoke of “energy”, yet he held his back so completely, he seemed like an expert on the subject.

“I want You”, I’d say, which turned him on, but he never understood exactly what I meant.

He seemed to enjoy when I lavished my energy onto him, but never really completed the energetic cycle. He would always return to the Real World, and the Problems at Hand, almost immediately upon completion of our coupling.

One night I asked him outright for what he seemed to perceive as elusive and magical “energy”.

“I can’t think it makes that big of a difference,” he said, kissing my neck. “That “energy” stuff is all just woo-woo bullshit anyway.”

“OK,” I said, “I will line up my energy with yours. I will be as you are, and then you tell me.”

As he seduced me, I took my energy into my inner cave, my sanctuary; the place one goes when raped or repeatedly abused in some way.

It’s not a negative place- it’s a place of peace, of calm, of escape. It’s completely Private.

My body performed beautifully. My mind knew what he especially craved, doling it out in perfect rhythm. I did not hold back the physical at all. I was still passionate and enthusiastic. From the outside, nothing about me appeared different. My body responded faithfully, accepting a flood of endorphins as a reward. The Ultimate Relaxation followed.

As we lay breathless together, he was quiet in a new way. Restless. For all the activity and satisfaction we’d shared, his energy felt… rattled.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” he finally asked.

“Why do you say that? I adore you. All I ever want is more of you.”

For the first time since we met I felt Him, his energy, reaching out to me.

“Then where are you? Where did you “go”?”, he asked. And then, after a moment, “I want You.”He was being present with me like never before.

“I’m right here,” I said, shining my energy back to him.

I felt his body relax and calm immediately. He moved closer to me.

“I want You”, he whispered, as he began to caress me again. “I want You too.” I whispered back.