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I went to a show last night, at summit music club, a little place with decent sound. It was royksopp. When he first mentioned it I was sort of on the fence. But then I decided to just say yes and he got the tickets and we went and I’m so glad I did it.

Because I had so much fun. Like real actual for serious fun. fun with a capital f.

First of all I love royksopp. I haven’t seen them since 2014, in Boston, with Robyn. But they’re great.

Also, everyone there was old like me. I appreciate this immensely. It’s hard enough liking electronic music but liking it as a middle-aged lady? Even though I truly love it, some part of me feels like it comes off as desperate and sad. Which is dumb right? Why can’t I like what I like? There shouldn’t be an age limit.

But whatever, the point here is that I did not feel dumb or desperate or sad last night. Quite the opposite. And it wasn’t just because there were lots of olds. But also because I was with great company.

He is an interesting guy. Different than the others. He’s got this strange and curious energy to him. It’s very intriguing. He is sexy and unusual and he gets me to do fun stuff with him. Stuff that I don’t do. We’ve been out a few times now and he’s really made me interested in this city I live in and how vibrant it actually is. It’s not just stupid suburbia and strip malls.

So last night there we are at royksopp and he takes my hand as he weaves us through the crowd and we find a place to stand and the music is starting and the air has that thick but light quality to it. the energy is crackling.

as the night goes on, the feeling comes. That old familiar feeling. Of being in a club, all those warm bodies, the music, the lights, the electricity. Skin prickling, the bass breathing heavy into every corner of your body. Your twitchy brain trying to find the note to chase.

And we dance. And dance. And dance. boy was it sexy. Sizzling. I have not sexy-danced with a guy in a very long time.

Ahhhh!!! it was just so fun. So liberating. I just did not give one fuck how I looked or how fat I was, or how old I was. I just let it all go. let the music in. Let the thrum take over. I moved my body and he moved with me and I felt alive. Him standing behind me, grabbing me. His body pressed up tight against me, moving and sliding together.

And we didn’t even take any drugs! We had a beer or two before but no drugs.

It reminded me of the early days in Boston. When I would go out to all the clubs and parties and raves and dance till I was ready to collapse. but I never took a single drug. everyone else around me was rolling or tripping or whatever. But I didn’t need it. I was getting high off them, their energy, their air, their presence. I mean yes eventually I started using drugs too but I never liked it in the club. I much preferred doing them at home in my safe space.

Oh I smoked weed back then. I guess that is considered a drug but not really. I’m talking MDMA and mushrooms and coke and LSD.

It was just a really good time and it made me feel amazing and more like myself. My real self. My true self. The self before becoming a mom.

Maybe I can be happy and find joy and fun in life again. Not just sitting in my apartment by myself.

Even though I do very much like that.

What I do like is these various men bringing out different parts of me, some good some bad.

Erik is back, I guess. sort of. He apologized. Sort of. He said he realized he didn’t like not having me in his life and getting to talk to me. Well duh. I’m awesome.

But I’m being real careful here. Im happy to have his attention again, especially the sexy attention. but I’m not about to get my tender little heart put back in a blender. Everyone hates him. Wants me to ditch him.

But I do what I want!

He messaged me Friday. Out of the blue. About the weather. I waited two whole entire hours, but I did respond. Of course I did.

But loafe, loafe… I was good. I was so good! I am kind of proud of my restraint. I mirrored his demeanor and tone perfectly. I only spoke when spoken to, so there was no feeling of being left out there hanging on a limb.

We have exchanged maybe 2 dozen messages since then. All about the weather and fall.

But why? Why did he reach out? I don’t understand. He didn’t want me as a lover or a friend. I didn’t push it and I left him alone and then after a week and a half, he texts me. about the god damn weather. It doesn’t make sense. Why why why.

But you know, it was okay because talking about the weather felt safe? No one ever fell in love talking about the fckn weather.

So I played along. Even though these “innocent” texts about the weather wreaked havoc with my progress. set me off balance again. I hadn’t cried or thrown up for like two days and I was starting to not feel so rotten and insecure every single waking second.

Then his real intention became apparent. He started toying with me again, being clever and cute and sexy, drawing me back into his seductive web.

there he is. Wanting me. I’m all in. I’ll always be in. We went as far as he wanted. Lord have mercy on me, was it ever good. All this longing and yearning and pining built up in me. Just waiting and growing. Desire and rejection. Insatiable hunger, pushed down deep. Wanting release.

And he sent me spinning, like a top.

I would have gone farther. His sexual energy does something to me like no other.

I’m feeling okay about it all right now. Ask me again in the morning.

Okay it’s been one week. I haven’t done anything tragic or humiliating or terrible. I haven’t messaged him. I’ve only driven by his house 14 times.

I’m kidding!

11 times.

No no no. I’m being silly. It’s been 8 times. I have only driven by his house 8 times and only twice have I camped out overnight.

I’m growing, being such an adult.

It helps that I’ve been keeping busy and occupied with work and gym and other boys and obsessing over my looming uterus removal.

Maybe I’ll go get some Botox and dermal fillers.

So I already knew this about me, but the past week has really driven it home. I need the approval and admiration and validation of men to feel good about myself. one boy doesn’t like me? I need three others to tell me how cute/funny/sexy/smart I am. It is pathetic and I am disgusted with myself. But I am who I am.

I skipped the national for this jerk. THE NATIONAL. I can’t even look at myself.

Maybe it’s not that I’m “too much” ERIKA maybe it’s that you aren’t ENOUGH. Maybe it is you who is lacking. Ever think about that? Huh? DIDJA?

What’s that Sia song? Only a genius could love a woman like me.

Ooh ooh! I’ve thought of a name for the new season. Hot heaux summer is gone. Now it’s time for me to fall into grace.

Pretty good eh.

During the final full moon in august, the blood moon, the blue moon, the super blood moon, the Barbie moon, we did a ritual. I had three “wishes” (or desires or goals) to focus my intentions and energy.

First one was to be more grounded. To stop the crazy and find and feel the earth beneath my feet again.

Second, own and amplify my power, but not just any power, my sexual power. Really let it take over and give in to it. it’s such a part of me and I want to really bring it out into the crisp cool air of fall.

third and final wish is about building confidence. I need to learn how to have confidence in myself, value in who I am right now, in this very moment. I don’t want to just know my own self worth, I want the entire world to know it. I deserve it.

It’s nice because this third wish ties back into the first two, to have confidence that I can find the ground again; and that I can be a thriving living moving sexual being in whatever ways I want with whoever suits me.

Full moon magic can be so powerful. So beautiful. And so so difficult. Just really gut wrenching.

The magic has already begun. The knots are beginning to loosen. It makes me happy, absolutely thrilled.

But I am also very sad. There is a lot of work ahead of me to achieve the grounding I need, and some of that work means letting go of Erik and the pure madness that came along with him.

I don’t know what happened to me when he appeared in my life. Whatever it was, it completely overtook me. He undid me and he continues to undo me and I just can’t find my way back to sanity. Maybe it’s not him maybe it’s just a matter of time and place. But the point is that he is an obstacle for my first wish. (And maybe even my second and third.)

But see here. The universe knows what I’m capable of. She knows I can’t walk away from him. Not on my own. It is just not something I am equipped to do, I have neither the strength nor the desire. I would live in this miserable place with him till the day I died, because that is who I am.

So she took matters into her own hands.

And today it happened. He ended things. No more friendship. No more texting. No more anything. It’s over. He’s gone. And it feels wretched, absolutely fucking wretched. but I know that it was necessary. It’s hard now, but it will get easier. this is the best thing for me and my sanity. He did what I could not, he walked away. He said thanks and he said goodbye and that was it.

I need to find ways to distract me from this tight twisted feeling inside, this lump in my throat, the slow ticking of the clock. I hate him, I love him, I want him, and I can’t stand him. I need him but I need to let him go even more. What we had was real, this I believe wholly and truly, but it wasn’t meant to last. It was a lightning storm and now it’s over and it’s okay. It’s okay it happened, it’s okay it’s over, it’s okay I’m sad. It’s okay that I feel so so alone and so unnoticed and so so inconsequential. It’s okay that I’m unmoored.

It’s okay because I will get better. It’s okay because I am ready to do the work. It’s okay because I’m going to sink my toes into the soil and find my worth and not let my broken uterus ruin my sexual essence.

Movement is good. Love is clear weather. Weeping is time wasted.