Broken Doll

Tired—not-tired. I got home from ritual, burned the letter and lay down for a nap, thinking I wouldn’t be able to sleep and ending up deep and black for 2 hours. I spent the rest of the night obsessing about how to get the damn template working, and now I feel disconnected. Surreal.

Keeping those things at an emotional distance from my heart, holding it but holding it at arm’s length. I am at the skittered exhausted edges of depression. Woke up this morning with a crushing headache and every once in a while throughout the day it returns, sudden, like having someone ram a steel spike through my temple. It stays for several moments, then dims to tolerable levels before fading completely a few minutes later.

Today I can build a wall around myself, keep his ghost at arm’s length, and can look up at the clear blue sky and smile and almost feel it. At the end of ritual I cut a length of ribbon from the Maypole and I now wear it around my neck. The pet tag is strung onto it. It’s not a collar but maybe it will help.

Today: blue for water, blue for West, blue for emotional depth and stability. I called West for ritual; I brought blue ribbon for the Maypole, I wear it now around my neck. If there is any magick left in me I wish-for-work-for emotional stability, depth, centeredness for both of us. I burned the letter — fire and air, passion and communication. Maybe sending it on to him this way first will inspire him to hear and understand what I’m saying when I give it to him later.

Beltaine is the worst time to be alone. We sing of love and lust, pleasure and joy — and all I can think is that I knew it once. I had it once. There has been something of a calm the past couple days, a sense that maybe this really is only temporary, and things will come full circle for us eventually.

Maybe, someday. I keep it all at arm’s length because tonight I am too tired to cry.

Too much work on CSS crap. Have a headache now. Feel spaced out and shitty.