The ocean swallowed the sun.

It’s Christmas eve and I am alone, wrapped up in the fiance’s blanket watching episodes of the Ghost Adventures on the Travel Channel. The school goer is at her dads and I miss her deeply. Normally we’d be laying in bed together watching a holiday movie after baking cookies all evening. Strange to not enjoy these little things with her this year… no matter, she returns to me tomorrow morning just before the noon hour and we can have our Christmas day. Joint custody with my abusive narcissist ex is extremely hard. He agrees to nothing, he cares about nobody (including the school goer) and his only goal is ‘winning’ whatever that is. No matter … the creator won’t be easy on him in judgment day and all of his truths will be revealed. It’s this very thought which keeps me humble and honest. 

I realize that I have to make a trip to the bathroom for the painful adventure of bathing (which is insanely difficult with a cast) and sit my bare ass on a drink cooler while hanging my casted leg out of the tub. Most uncomfortable, I assure you. As this thought enters my head, I sink into the chair and watch Zak investigate the Myrtles plantation in Louisiana. I am eagerly fascinated with his SP-7 experience. “Behind you” muttered a woman’s voice through the constant hiss of white noise. Gasp … I’m intrigued. I think about the PSI-ITC technology on my device and realise it rivals the SP-7 and consider this as something I will try after the bath. The thought paints a smile on my face.

My eyes mull over the time consuming illustration + poem that I have been working on for the fiance for his Christmas present. I’m confident he will weep in emotion of strong love (or at least I am hopeful of this reaction.) I also wonder what he has emboughten me for Christmas and hope for only thing only. A true to heart commitment to me as my love for him is extremely intense. I smile when he smiles. I cry when he cries. I hurt when he hurts. You know the soul of us poets … tragically romantic and deep. 

The fireplace has been lit for nearly an hour at this point. I’m sat by it in the recliner enjoying the tranquil environment daydreaming about love. A strange circumstance while a paranormal show goes on and on in front of me on the Alienware. This room has given me heaping piles of imagery for potential poems. One of which will consist of extreme loneliness while recovering in pain. Isn’t it interesting how loneliness and pain are the thriving muses of all creative people? It’s therapy … plain and simple. While I illustrate, make music, write, paint … I forget just for a little while and go into a whole new world. Similar to my deep fascination with the paranormal. The mystery that excuses you from reality even if for a short time. 

I thought about some of my friends earlier. I tried to call one. Nobody answered. I thought about it briefly. They aren’t really someone I wanted to talk with anyways. The future mother in law was visiting me earlier. She had told me a story about a woman who got hell from these two men she’d visit. She said that after this woman would leave, the men would smell the chair she sat in and carry on about how pungent and unflattering her crotch smelt. I had to bite my lip and remain composure as she told me, but once she left, I laughed almost to tears. This story coming from this woman was not only shocking but it was in the way she explained it. Priceless. 

It made me think of my fiance and the time we met a woman I know from a Facebook group. She lived quite near us so he went with me to meet her. You couldn’t mistake that smell and I am not being judgemental nor mean … it was urine mixed with other foul smell and incredibly pungent. I figured that maybe she doesn’t realize that it’s that bad and got through it without her knowing it was noticeable. When we got home the fiance made endless jokes about how extreme the odor was, and we began a running joke which is only between us and harmless. I will admit this. I stayed in contact with the woman because I’m very friendly and don’t judge. She claimed to be psychic and began telling me mean things that I knew weren’t true. I think she was lonely and used me as her venting system. The fiance told me I needed to go total no contact so I did. One night I was angry at myself for not separating my friendship with her sooner. I thought about going to the dollar general and mass buying Summer’s Eve Douches the 4 packs and throwing them all over her yard anonymously. The thought made me laugh, but I wasn’t mean enough to follow through with it.

I’m rambling at this point and procrastinating taking that bath/shower so I will bid you all goodnight a drink very merry christmas! 

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