I WANT REVENGE.

My body holds the intelligence of energetic betrayal. She remembers. And she wants revenge. An emotion that drives some to insanity. To murder. To self-betrayal. What is this unruly emotion that takes over my every being every…single…time…she remembers. The sinister creature lurking in the shadows feeding on my every blindspot. My human is humbled. I try to lead with love. I try to understand. How sinister and dark does that make me? Within love, I am still susceptible to this pattern of seeking revenge. I’ve sought it with my body more than anything. She remembers. Tears caressing my face on this melancholic Cancer moon. My feminine feels betrayed. She feels used. And then again…unused. I want revenge for her. For all the times she didn’t flinch in  the face of discomfort. For all the times she maintained her composure. All the times she let shit slide. I want to blame it on the male species. I want to blame the wombs that birthed them. I want to blame the vampiric attachment that has cursed bloodlines. But honestly, when it's all said and done, I just want plain old revenge. My body remembers the poisoning as reparations. When I took matters into my own hands. When I flinched. Maybe the flinching is its own sort of remembrance. The physical expression of knowledge. 

Tonight, a guy wasted my fucking time. I dont give a fuck if it was an hour. I don’t give a fuck about your fucking sob story. I don’t give a fuck about any of that fucking self-soothing, victim bullshit sometimes. Nature communicates to me even in a place like the club. As I talked to the guy, I became itchy, as if I had just been stung by a mosquito. Blood thirsty motherfucker. I want revenge. Not just on this guy, on every fucking person that wasted my fucking time. That played on my vulnerabilities. That played on my love. My care. My nurturing. My empathy. That shit is sacred to me, and this experience tonight has obliterated me ever thinking that those qualities were not valuable and that I am immoral in some aspect by placing value on those qualities in the form of dollar signs. You want to know why? Because when I didn’t, I was sucked dry for my essence. For all the beautiful qualities that make me….me. It’s always beautiful when it’s free right? Funny. Not fucking funny anymore.

I won’t allow my well to be desecrated.

Here we are…in the grey area….again. Questioning if my love is genuine if I expect to be compensated. If I expect to be VALUED for it. I pose this question to myself often, “Can love truly be unconditional in this human form? Is it meant to?” My more transcendent aspect says yes. My human self says “Set fucking boundaries.” This is the moment that the keys I’ve been granted transform to codes. Where the love I was birthed with is acknowledged as my currency and not just a bottomless pit that can be siphoned. This is the moment I realize that just because you give it out of love doesn’t mean that every single person will recognize it for what it is. Some people sip from the well of holy water and appreciate it for what it has provided. Others overindulge. Of course the holy water well is always replenished by a source that cannot be conceptualized. But sometimes you have to tame the nature of beastly humans when you have access to something sacred. Sacred codes. They must be protected and honored as such. I’m learning this. Every code isn’t for everyone. Some codes touch. Some fuck. Some say a simple “hello.” And some stay a while. 

I don’t want my love, that is my holy water fuel, to be corrupted. I don’t want to feel this feeling of revenge because I didn’t protect the code. It always leads back to me. This feeling of responsibility. Saturn’s doing, I suppose. Learning the correlation between restriction and protection. It makes sense now. Protection kept dignified by restriction is HOLY. It’s not wrong. It’s not deceitful when it's in remembrance of the codes. The world has coded women to view restriction as selfish. To view restriction as something that cannot be associated with love. I refuse to leave my human behind in the integration of this code. I refuse to allow the world to make me believe that what is truly of God is given completely free with no respect to what my body remembers. I choose to love…as freely as desire, while also knowing that everyone is not coded in the same way of love. I choose to accept this human feat and dance with my love in every kind of dynamic that I encounter. Perhaps, everyone gets the same origin of it with various expressions. And it all leads back to love. Love that honors me and the other person even if they don’t realize it. Love with boundaries. Love that does not violate.