Notes from the Neighborhood – The Seat is Taken

I believe in what I am doing. However, I also believe that when it comes to matters like this and when we are dealing with matters of the heart or when it comes to true love and our search for the ever-elusive happily ever after; I know there is no easy way or easy path.
No, this is a fight. This is not supposed to be easy because if it were so easy to find love and live happily ever after, would we know how valuable it is?

I am not saying that love is always difficult. Instead, I am saying that any difficulty fails in comparison to the wealth of what my love brings. Therefore, I have decided to create a list for myself. I have decided to take action and to care for myself. However, in fairness to an open heart and my own feelings, I can go to the gym and I can work out. I can keep busy. I can book trips, which I have, and as frightened as I am about this – I’m still moving forward.
Or as it was this morning, I can be up at 3:30  and make a buffalo chicken soup/stew. I say it this way and call it a soup/stew because while I know there are ingredients and I know there are directions, I am not one to always follow the usual path.
So, I improvised a little. 

I’ll circle back to the stew in a moment but first
there’s this –

I have an open seat next to me and I’m keeping it this way. Open, I mean.
I have this set up and ready to go. No one else in the world can sit here, except for one person.
This chair is theirs, forever. For as long as it takes, even if it takes a lifetime, plus an eternity; I will keep this seat open as a refusal to ever settle or ever allow anyone to sit here, just to fill the seat.

I’m keeping this open for several reasons but mainly, I’m keeping this seat ready because this seat is intended for one special and very specific  person. 

I want to make this seat comfortable. I want the seat to lean back when it needs to. I want this seat to recline and when it’s time to jump or sit up straight, I want the action to be perfect. I want this to be smooth in spite of any flaws or imperfections. I say it this way because this seat is also me and as a representation of me, I have flaws and imperfections. However, with that being said, I have the ability to love and to love perfectly. I have the undying  ability to understand that no one has the right to sit here – except for her.

I don’t want to let this seat go to waste nor will I share this with anyone else in the world. No one else can sit here because obviously, this seat is only intended for one person. This is made to accept and enjoy the contour of her body. This will accept her both comfortably and seamlessly and more, when finished and properly prepared, this seat will complement everything about her.

It’s a throne that is fit for the highest of Queens, better than the most beautiful Mayan or Azteca Goddess yet, this seat is plain and simple. It’s comfortable, at least I hope it is.
I can’t really tell either because at the same time, I’m not allowed to sit here.
It’s not for me. No . . .
This is for her.
I am on the other side. I am next to this seat and standing by waiting and as the co-pilot and co-navigator, my job on this flight is to keep this seat warm and ready for the only person who has the right to occupy this spot.

I am fine for now which means that I understand the emptiness of the seat, which means that the vacancy is apparent. However, I know there is no vacancy in my heart because, alas, I know that my love is there and that my vision is real.
Very real, in fact.
I am fine to understand that timing is everything and that sometimes, my timing is off and other times, my timing can be downright awful.
But for the record, please let the account show that good or bad is no longer a description that I will allow to degrade or to distract me from building this seat. Good or bad, right or wrong, none of this has anything to do with why I’m waiting or holding this seat for my one and only – her majesty.
My Queen.

I understand that timing is everything and whether I have the time to see this through and whether my flight to see the galaxy is delayed is irrelevant to me. 

I won’t fly without my right side. I won’t even attempt to take off without the right person because, in fairness, I have flown before.
I might not have flown as much as other people or in some cases, maybe I flew too often with the wrong person at my side. I accept that.
Or maybe they were right for a moment. Or maybe I was the wrong person for them but at the same time, deep down, I knew there was something either off-center or missing.
So, I held out and hoped this would either vanish or my thoughts would turn to something else.
But they never did.
They always came back to her –
My vision.
My dream.
My reason to scream and jump up and down.

I’ve given myself up to the various settlements and accepted the substandard of a dream that was either inaccurate or not fully achieved.
I know what it’s like to be with someone dissimilar or otherwise, or lacking in the cosmic way. I know that love is a strange thing and yes, love comes in different shapes and sizes and variations. I also know that while being true to the heart, we have to be completely true. That means trading time or living an internal lie is unfair to everyone.
I had to learn about my dishonesties so that i can become honest.
So no, I won’t fly like that again.
Besides, when I choose to take off into the sunset and when I choose to fly above the clouds, I want this to be my heaven.
I want this to be the match above all matches.
Undeniable and unthinkable, and also unbreakable because as the passion of this consumes me and as my heart meshes and intertwines, at last, when the flight takes off; I am alive and well and living in the arms of my dream.

And so, I won’t settle. I won’t negotiate.
Even if this flight never takes off. Even if this means that I am forever grounded until further notice, then fine. So be it.
At least I won’t ever share myself unfairly or selfishly, just to fly, or just to be with someone.
Nor will I ever entertain another person just to beat the loneliness of “self,” because (and to be honest) I would rather be alone than allow myself the disloyalty to offer my passion or my company to someone who is not the girl of my dreams.

No, there’s only one of these.
I know it . . .
And the seat, it’s hers. She knows it too.
Empty until she arrives.

Now, in the beginning, I told you in that I am working through this as best as I can. I have incorporated every level of personal and self-care. 

I’m cooking and cleaning and taking care of myself. I am feeding my heart as best as I can. I am not giving up; however, I am going forward.

And, as for the buffalo chicken soup/stew –

Here it goes –

I took one cup of chicken broth. I put in some diced tomatoes from a 15oz can and also I used another 15 oz can of tomato sauce. I put in some oregano and about ⅓ of a cup of buffalo sauce.. Oops, wait.
Let me start over.
I started with some olive oil in the slow cooker and some water as well.
I rinsed the black beans and the chickpeas. I diced up an onion. I tossed some of that in, but not all. I added some red chili pepper flakes. I added a cup of crumbled gorgonzola. And I also offered some grated cheese. I had some leftover heirloom tomatoes. So, I tossed them in as well.
I diced the chicken and then put this in a pan to brown the chunks of white meat. I sauteed this with some olive oil and the onions that were left over.
I put some garlic in the pan because, why not?

I can say the prep did not take too long at all. And now, all of this is combined in my trusty little slow-cooker, crock pot. I am going to entertain my thoughts for a while about my love and the fantasy of her touch. 

I’ll file this journal entry with the universe with hopes that it reaches its target. Then I’m off to the gym. I have a life to live and my life will not wait for me. However, I will not waste another moment or breath by entertaining something or someone “just because.”
I won’t do this because in fairness to the world, I will never degrade myself or anyone else by allowing me (or them) to settle for anything less than what they deserve – and if they deserve better . . .
then so be it.

This is my choice and my dedication to truth.
Should this put me out of consideration then I am truly sorry.
But I’ll never be sorry for being honest about this.

And at last, no one can ever say that I didn’t try.
And I’m not trying. I’m living.
There’s a difference because no matter what, I am not giving myself away or accepting trades
(anymore).

The house smells good. And, as always, I made plenty because more than saving this seat, i’m also saving a plate . . .

just for you.