My Boy

You are everything I ever wanted,
beautiful, like the Starry Night poster above your bed.
Your dark eyes invite me to smile with you,
and your tears kill me just a little each time.

You are the best boy, the one I love.
I told you when I held you that first time,
"I am going to take care of you".
And I will. So help me, God. I will.

While the the winds lashed the trees that day,
I stood on the balcony holding you in my arms.
I said, "I will endure any pain on earth
so that you will be happy with me". And I meant it.

I am a man of my word, my little one. That I promise.
I was faithful to a woman who hated my face,
I am faithful to a beauty who adores me wholly,
and I will always be faithful to you to my dying day.

We'll take our walks, you and I, and we'll sing.
We'll play our card games, and have our dance parties.
We'll say good bye every other Sunday, and hello every Wednesday.
We'll read, laugh, run, and learn together always. My lovely boy.

Divorce In Jesus' Name

Officially, Liz and I split in the late Spring of 2009. Unofficially--and I word it that way, because it doesn't count, right?--she was done with our relationship in September of 2007. Except I didn't know. She didn't bother to tell me. I suppose I could feel it, but it's hard to distinguish the different shades of darkness that crept in from those that were already there.

When I first talked about the impending separation with a few friends, having already been through a tough sixth wedding anniversary consisting of finding out my wife was cheating on me for the past few months, I could tell my friends didn't understand. I would have to play this game of Q&A as if their opinions and beliefs could actually change something that my own hadn't been able to.

Q: Do you think God wants you to get a divorce, Dustin? Is all this okay with Him?
A: I don't know what He thinks, but I don't want a divorce, if that counts for anything. None of this was my call. It was a big surprise to me.

Q: Did you know that God hates divorce?
A: That can't be true of all cases, because that would be ignoring the reality that some relationships are abusive and traumatic, and I'm sure God will allow the abused some reprieve in the form of divorce. That aside, I'm not a fan of divorce, either.

Q: What are you doing as a man of God to get your wife back?
A: I've been trying to talk to her for weeks. She doesn't want to be married anymore. She says that she will NOT go to counseling, no matter how much I ask. She says she doesn't want to see me, unless I'm dropping our son off. She says that she has never loved me. So, I guess I'm doing all I can, but being met with nothing.

Q: So, you're giving up that easily? It's the husband's job to keep his wife in the fold, you know. Didn't you know that?
A: Fuck you. You don't understand shit. None of this is easy. I don't want any of this, but she is cashing in her half of the relationship, because it wasn't just MY relationship, it was hers, too. She's done. She has a boyfriend. She's moved out. She will file a restraining order if I try to talk to her about anything other than Skylarr. Do I need THAT on my record when divorce proceedings are under way? Sure fucking don't. I haven't given up. I just know when to allow her to go her own way.

It was so much worse than this, too. I would get this conservative bullshit in the form of: "God doesn't believe in divorce. You're disappointing Him."

Thanks. I needed that.

I spoke with a friend's grandmother, orthodox woman, very conservative. She doesn't know I'm divorced, but she said something like, "All these Christians are getting divorced these days. Don't they know that they are making big mistakes? God will never honor these people."

I said, "What if one of the people doesn't want the divorce, and they try EVERYTHING they can to keep it from happening? Will God honor them?"

"No," she said. "If they'd done everything in their powers, God would have seen to it that the relationship did not fall apart. God would have made sure that they didn't become some statistic."

"But don't you think God understands that not everything is perfect? Don't you think He knows that some people will try harder than others? We're fools to think we know His ways, so can't a divorce lead someone to a better life by giving them understanding?"

"You sound like you're defending divorce."

Yeah... I am.

If you're married, and you're having problems, and you work through them... good for you. My relationship was that way once. We were together eight years. Can you beat that? If you can, great. I want you to. But can you also understand that your marriage is nothing special? It's a struggle. It's a war. It's so wonderful. It can end so quickly without allowing you chance for a rebuttal. What then? Is it God's will? Are you "out of favor with Him" now? Or were you just a victim the whole time? Or do you move on?

I'm a Christian divorcee, and I did all I could to prevent that. And now, I believe God has blessed me with insight, I've never had before into the nature of love. I believe he's blessed me with my dream girl, the one I wished Liz had always been. I believe that God is honoring me for not giving up until the end. I believe that the only person who can offer me commentary on this subject is the person who has gone through it with me. His name is Jesus. Are you Him?

Boogeymen and Vodka

I get too restless at three AM,
so I take a walk.
Vodka in hand,
I stroll through the black night,
and I'm scared.
I realize I always am fearful
of some horror or another
watching,
waiting,
hungry,
dead,
and real.

A man,
silhouetted in the yellow lamplight,
a shadow.
He should not be out so late
just standing there
in the dark.
I stop,
and his demonic posture
speaks volumes to me
of terror and devilish cravings
on this empty street.

His back is to me,
and I know he sees me
somehow,
with some otherworldly sense,
Satanic and awful.
When he turns,
his thin body moves,
closing the distance
between us.
It is two steps
before he says to himself,
"I'm so fucking drunk."
And pukes his guts out.
I guess we were the only
monsters
out that night.

Pseudo-politics

Okay, fuck it... I'm too tired for this shit.
This game,
this argument,
don't you fucking know
it's scripted,
planned,
it's already written.
Don't worry, though,
you're the one exception
to the rule.

Pros and cons,
comments and responses,
endorsements and rebuttals.
She's got the right to choose
to murder a fucking baby.
He can beat a homo
to death
in the name of Christ.
She's right.
He's right.
Thank God
nobody important
actually got hurt.

Give me literature to back your point,
and I'll read it.
I probably already have,
so make it fucking good.
Page after page...
your spin,
your blind spots,
your bullshit,
so what you're saying is:
Fuck the gays,
the unborn kids,
the red,
and the blue.

I'll drink my Jack, thanks,
and throw my ballet
in the trash.
Yes, I've heard:
I'm an idiot,
a fool,
an anarchist
for not investing in your
precious corruption.
And that's the flip-side:
It's not mine,
it's yours.
Keep it.

Jack sang "Bread of Heaven", and I thought of you...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Precursor

As sadness bred bitter hatred becoming sadness again,
those closest at heart saw the monster to be,
she, who with wine and forked tongue, devoured everything
meaningful and crystalline; both visible and unseen.
Lying bitch passed judgment, because holiness is as holiness
wishes it were in the dark, alone and drunk and awful.
And very vividly, a tearful end was coming quickly
that wasn't meant, but yet to be.

You altered everything by showing up
to that sunny room on a dark September afternoon
where foreign tongues fortified the ruins
of a towering structure destined for doom.
It was like burning the way something intangible
reached into the Air and left a strange mark
for all to see; a mystery of you and me and everything
that wasn't yet, but meant to be.

When Will We Be Invisible?

I was riding my motorcycle tonight, and I found myself staring at the fast-moving pavement flying by underneath me. It's the closest thing to flying without going to the fucking airport. I love it. In the next few days, I'm going to plan out a ride down the coast. I'm tentatively going to dedicate three, maybe four, days to the cause. The plan is to go by myself far from home with nobody there to tell me where to go or what to do. It's funny, because I'm twenty-five years old, and for some reason, I've not done a whole lot of things myself.

Yes, I've been pretty independent. But I've always had some hand on my shoulder guiding me or bossing me around. It's made me view myself as though I'm still some stupid kid who doesn't know shit about life, even though I've done and seen enough to last me a while. Paying bills, for instance. Lizzy always did that. I'd help, but it was all her... taking care of the paper work, mailing things out. She never trusted that I could do it, because, "You're just lousy at administrative things." And fine, I stepped back.

Traveling is another thing. France was supposed to be just me, and while I'm not disappointed in the slightest about the company I kept during those eight days, it was supposed to be a Dustin endeavor which wound up being diluted somehow. Madeline helped me do things, and for that, I'm grateful. I would have gotten it done, but the help was wonderful. I just wish I'd had things totally prepared for Madeline. Lizzy planned everything. She told me how things would be, and she was efficient. I actually really admired that in her, because she was so lazy about everything else. My role in vacations, though, was just providing the funds. Trips to California, Leavenworth, Oregon, Seattle, and the other places we went were all driven by her. The ride will be different. Not as epic, mind you, but mine. Alone.

I've been thinking a lot about how strangely alone I feel. It's weird. I used to have this sense of not-aloneness when I was a family man. But I was miserable, at least for the last couple years of that particular life. But even when I was miserable, I felt connected to something bigger than myself. Something that promised companionship and solidarity. Now, I'm happier than I've been in years, but the trade-off was I now feel by myself. I think this mostly applies to my role as a father. As a lover, I feel pretty good. Not alone. Not anymore. Madeline is amazing. But as a parent, I feel kind of inadequate.

Sometimes, I feel efficient. On top of shit. Other times, I wonder why Skylarr should even listen to me.

I like to make him "pretty dishes". That's what he calls them. I neatly arrange his food on his plate for him. Slice things up semi-fancily. Line things up. Make faces with fruit. Colors. Variety. He loves it. I think he'll remember that.

I've got to move. I absolutely can't right now, given my financial distress, but soon. I need to be the king of a castle again. It's hard going from that to where I am now. I'm just another kid. At least, that's how I feel. I guess, to be more accurate, I'm like an independent contractor. I don't know. I'm not even sure what I mean by that.

I need to sleep, but I should say that today has been a great day. I love spending time with Skylarr so much. We played catch with a baseball for the first time today. I made him a "pretty dish" with a sliced up peanut butter and jelly sandwich with strawberries and whipped cream throughout. He loved it.

Well, off to bed. Here's to a wonderful tomorrow.

Listen I Can't Make, Make A Sound or Feel...

I have two other blog pages. One is another blogspot page. I don't know how to log onto it anymore. The other is my livejournal page. I've had that for many years now, but there are too many people who know of it. This page is mine alone. And I like that. I will probably tell Madeline about it eventually. And Grace. Maybe Zeke. Nobody else, though. For now, though, it's just me and me.

I'm so tired. It's hard for me to convey what life feels like right now. Don't get me wrong, I'm happier than I've been in years, but it cost me a lot to get here. I don't think any of my friends completely understand what that means. Some have a better idea than others, but you have to walk through this kind of fire to truly speak of it, and I regret to say that I can speak of it with the best of 'em. I'm actually glad my friends don't know the fullness of this hurt. I know that I have friends who have been through things to which I cannot relate, and I'm thankful for that. My job was to be there to lend a listening ear or a shoulder on which to cry. They've all done it for me. And I hope I've been man enough to help them.

I've got this pain inside of me. I can't pinpoint it exactly. It's an old pain. A dead pain, still lingering. Like a haunting. Something stalking about the halls of my mind that, by all means, shouldn't be there. I think I know what the source is. Maybe. It's not actually pain. It's unresolved issues.

I like things wrapped up in neat packages. It's how I am. So very "Type A". When things lose their symmetry, I get dark. And right now, I've got a whole mess of unresolved, loose ties in my life. I want to fix these things, but it's not up to me. Why does it seem that for the healing process to be finished, all offending parties must act? It's like that in psychology. In relationships. In politics. In a lot of things.

Lizzy's been pleasant to me. It's kind of disgusting how forced it is for her to act civil. But I'll take what I can get. No need to repeat last Summer and Fall only to be reminded that sometimes fake pleasantries are better than veritable hatred. Ah, whatever. I don't want to think about her. On one had, she is my son's mother, and I will always reserve a special place in my heart for her in that regard. But as a human being, she is a failure.

Wasn't it only a couple months ago that she wrote up to a judge that I was having my mom raise Skylarr? Wasn't it around that same time that she was cussing me out and hanging up on me whenever I tried to talk to her about Skylarr? Isn't this the same woman who told me that it was okay for her to fall in love with another man while we were still married, but that I was a dick for getting a girlfriend months and months later?

Now, things are wrapping up with her. The divorce is almost final. I know that Madeline will sigh when that is over. Poor Madeline. I feel sorry for her sometimes that she didn't know me when I was full of hope and when I was sharper with my intellect and not so run-down. She's really getting jipped being with me. Here is this amazing, talented, sexy, smart young girl, and instead of getting with someone her own age, some hot girl or guy, she's with me. She loves me so much, and I can feel it without question. She doesn't even have to tell me. With Lizzy, I needed her to tell me, because I never knew from day to day if she loved me or not.

I hope Madeline feels loved. I hope she knows that my past and our future together are two different things. I feel stronger now than ever. I'm a better man, a better father, and I want to be a better lover. For her.

I'm sleepy. Rant over.