Sometimes we fight. I don't mean that we just disagree and argue a little. I mean sometimes... We cry, and yell, and lose any semblance of sanity. Sometimes I feel like ripping into someone with teeth and nails 'til blood flows, and I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one.

It used to leave me feeling hopeless. We would fight -- or go silent -- and I wanted to get away. Anywhere. Far, far away. When we used to fight, I thought it was over. Hopeless. Pointless to keep trying.

Today I cried so hard that my nose started bleeding. At work, in my office with the door closed, I sobbed as silently as I could. We argued most of the day. I was hurt, and I'm sure he was as well. Neither of us could understand the other. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit things. And when asked, I had no trouble telling people that I was extremely upset.

Still... I never once assumed there was anything wrong with him. I never felt like either of us were fatally flawed so the whole thing was worthless. I believe in him. I trust that he believes in me. Even when our issues crop up, and our communication hops into that hand-basket with one destination, I know that we will work it out. I have every faith that no matter how bad it seems at the time, we can solve it. We can overcome it.

When we do, and it's all over, we are stronger for it. Knit together just a little bit tighter. Mated forever.

"Trust in the love you have forgotten..."

They're right. I forgot. For a minute there... I forgot everything I ever was. I became someone else who knew nothing of love as a force, only an item.

I had forgotten that it is not divided through the sharing. It grows.

I'm sorry.

I could make excuses. I can analyze the psychology and the time line. Still. The reasons only matter if I do something about it. No point chatting it out if I expect everyone else to do the work. None at all.

I'm on my own on this one. I have to work it out. I know that.

Love. It's more than what I do. It's who I am.

I recently made a rose tincture from the purple tigers my Bratling grows. Part of this mix I put into a used vanilla extract vial. The vanilla rose will be a lovely addition to baking, as well as being a sweet & innocent bit of love. The rest of the liquid will go into a sweet little red vial I just picked up for 99 cents.

At the same time I purchased the vial -- and at the same price -- I got a tiny little bench. I'll paint that up, and it will become a tiny little altar.

I had a few things at work already, and I was so happy with my purchases that I couldn't help taking a wee photo break.

"All I want to say to you is be yourself.  Say it like you see it, you are entitled.  Explore the world in full color and out loud.  There is such a release in "just being who you really are". Your parents will love you always - no matter what choices you make in life.  I'm sure N. has shown you that.  Your true friends look past mistakes, ignore occasional weirdness, pick on you and make fun of you, because they really know you - you open up to them.  Family can be a challenge, but friends and partners admire and respect a person who isn't fake or pretentious.  Celebrate your adventurous nature.  It's not that you have to bare all, just be honest with yourself, feel represented and don't have regrets because other people wouldn't approve.   It's your life."

Thanks, Mom.

She's technically my step-mother. But I like Cali-Mom better as a title. She doesn't feel like a pasted in addition to the family. She feels like a second mother. I'm so grateful to have her in my life.

Self-control has never been your strong suit -- but then again, you've never really wanted it to be. You much prefer taking every experience to the absolute nth degree, pushing every envelope just as far as it can possibly be pushed, and seeing just how much fun you can actually stand -- which is usually quite a bit, truth be told. That's going to go double now, so lay in a decent supply of antacids, aspirin and very strong coffee.

Did the stars just encourage my self-indulgence? Sweet!