I didn't sleep well at all last night and this morning it feels a bit like some evil little imp came and shoved cotton up my nose while I was unconscious. I can't afford to get sick right now-I truly don't have time.
One of my staffers called last night and quit. Her last day is the 31st and I wish her so much luck and happiness because I'm her friend but I'm stressing out about the upcoming inventory counts because I'm her boss. I hate inventory.
My wifi went all stupid this morning and it wasn't until I finally picked up the phone to call Comcast that it started working properly. Like it knew.
Its raining and drab and kinda cold and so very winter today. I have a long day at work ahead of me and I'd like very much to just crawl under my blankets and try that sleep thing one more time.
I smashed my thumb in a cupboard yesterday and of course I have hit it no less than a dozen times since.
BUT
I'm happy.
I sang a silly little song about a jar of cookie butter in my pantry and it made me laugh and I took a moment to just laugh at myself.
I had a text from my more than friend waiting for me this morning-just like every morning since we've started being more than friends-and it made me reflect on how far I've come since He Who Shall Not Be Named. I used to think that he damaged me, ruined me for anyone else but now I wonder if maybe he didn't help me.
If I hadn't gone through all that, if I hadn't known what I absolutely don't want or need, I couldn't appreciate this new wonder that has come over me.
This feels easy, comfortable, exciting and complete. I feel like we've known each other always as we get to know each other more each day. He makes me laugh and think about things and he's kind and being with him feels like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be.
But my happiness isn't just because of him and that's new too. In the past, being happy had relied on whether or not I had a guy in my life. This time, I went in slow, let things develop on their own and made sure that my head and heart were in a good place. I have taken good friends' advice and not overanalyzed things, looking for something to be wrong. I'm just enjoying it. And him. My more than friend...
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
By the End, I'm Ok
Today was...a day.
I woke up to find a message from a friend. A friend that is becoming a little more than that and it was nice to feel that feeling without being afraid of it.
Work was a Monday and it's near the first of the month and there's so much to do and I have orientation with the new girl today and wait, did anyone take the deposit? and "Lindsay phone for you, it's your boss. Shouldn't have done that. Fix it and smile! It's retail! You're an example!"
Sigh.
And then a text from someone I didn't need to hear from. A message proving what I didn't see all along. Selfish. Ugly. Hurtful. Sociopath.
I got through that one ok. Took me a minute. I had to let myself feel every cruel word one more time because the wound is healing but it's still red and it hurts when you poke it.
I got through the rest of the Monday, closed up shop. I found a message from the friend and it made me smile. I was back on the upside.
Finally starting to relax, sort of watching the TV I hear the sound of what unfortunately is so very familiar now and I know...that cat is ruining something. I want to cry with frustration as I clean up the mess again. I realize I can't keep doing this and I plea with friends to help me.
I want to cry now. Work stress. Hurtful reminders. Cats. But I don't. Instead I remember that everything is going to be ok in the end.
If it's not ok, it isn't the end.
I woke up to find a message from a friend. A friend that is becoming a little more than that and it was nice to feel that feeling without being afraid of it.
Work was a Monday and it's near the first of the month and there's so much to do and I have orientation with the new girl today and wait, did anyone take the deposit? and "Lindsay phone for you, it's your boss. Shouldn't have done that. Fix it and smile! It's retail! You're an example!"
Sigh.
And then a text from someone I didn't need to hear from. A message proving what I didn't see all along. Selfish. Ugly. Hurtful. Sociopath.
I got through that one ok. Took me a minute. I had to let myself feel every cruel word one more time because the wound is healing but it's still red and it hurts when you poke it.
I got through the rest of the Monday, closed up shop. I found a message from the friend and it made me smile. I was back on the upside.
Finally starting to relax, sort of watching the TV I hear the sound of what unfortunately is so very familiar now and I know...that cat is ruining something. I want to cry with frustration as I clean up the mess again. I realize I can't keep doing this and I plea with friends to help me.
I want to cry now. Work stress. Hurtful reminders. Cats. But I don't. Instead I remember that everything is going to be ok in the end.
If it's not ok, it isn't the end.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Morning Sun
The winter sun is so orange. It seems so much brighter than the sun in June and yet I can look at it with my eyes wide open. There's frost on the cars going past my window and the birds that haven't already gone south are taunting the kitten through the glass. I have a peaceful song playing and my coffee is freshly brewed. These moments are so gently treasured. I sink into them without guilt and relish that I'm alone with myself.
Landslide starts to play and suddenly mom is with me too. I can smell her hair and see her smile. I can hear her voice with mine as I sing along with Stevie. I let the emotion of the words flow over me and I don't mind when my eyes swell a bit with tears.
The sun is more yellow now but still not a summer sun. I can see the cold outside in the breath from passersby, the exhaust from cars, the slow melt of frozen dew.
Now as the sun starts to make its way across the keyboard the rays become sharp. They pierce through the blinds and into my eyes. I wince against them, a hand to my forehead shielding.
Later the sun rides high in the sky, reminding me the day is going to go on. I feel it's warmth through the window, know it's deceiving. I don't want to go outside. I don't want to see the light. I want to do nothing I need to do.
The sun will come out tomorrow.
Landslide starts to play and suddenly mom is with me too. I can smell her hair and see her smile. I can hear her voice with mine as I sing along with Stevie. I let the emotion of the words flow over me and I don't mind when my eyes swell a bit with tears.
The sun is more yellow now but still not a summer sun. I can see the cold outside in the breath from passersby, the exhaust from cars, the slow melt of frozen dew.
Now as the sun starts to make its way across the keyboard the rays become sharp. They pierce through the blinds and into my eyes. I wince against them, a hand to my forehead shielding.
Later the sun rides high in the sky, reminding me the day is going to go on. I feel it's warmth through the window, know it's deceiving. I don't want to go outside. I don't want to see the light. I want to do nothing I need to do.
The sun will come out tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Just
Just don't be nice to me.
If you're nice to me than I'll think you care and when you eventually show me that you don't... I don't want to feel that. Not again.
If you're nice to me, I'll cry. And when I cry it makes me feel weak...I don't want you to see that. Not again.
Just leave me alone in my darkness. Don't ask me if I'm ok. Don't offer to sit with me or hug me. Don't touch me with your kindness or your hands.
Just let me feel this. Let me breath it in and fill my lungs with it. Let me drown.
Are you ok?
I'm ok. Sort of. I'm getting through the day.
Well I think you're a nifty person.
Even when I'm like this?
I know this isn't the real you.
If you're nice to me than I'll think you care and when you eventually show me that you don't... I don't want to feel that. Not again.
If you're nice to me, I'll cry. And when I cry it makes me feel weak...I don't want you to see that. Not again.
Just leave me alone in my darkness. Don't ask me if I'm ok. Don't offer to sit with me or hug me. Don't touch me with your kindness or your hands.
Just let me feel this. Let me breath it in and fill my lungs with it. Let me drown.
Are you ok?
I'm ok. Sort of. I'm getting through the day.
Well I think you're a nifty person.
Even when I'm like this?
I know this isn't the real you.
Choice
She's been there for a few months now. I recognize her shopping cart from halfway down the block. It has a red and white afghan that hangs off the side. Sometimes she's asleep when I go past. Sometimes, she sees me and looks away. I tried smiling at her once but she shook her head. A man was with her once. He had lots of bags with him but no blankets. His feet were wet from standing in the rain. He was wearing slippers.
Sometimes she's across the street, curled up on the bus stop bench. She covers her head with the afghan when she tries to sleep.
I wonder how she got there, where she came from. I wonder how I can help her, if she'd let me if I tried. I wonder who the man was and if he'll be back someday. I wonder where she goes at night-she just always seems to be there.
I walked home tonight with a grocery bag and my coat. It was pouring down rain and I thought how I couldn't wait to get home and out of my wet clothes. I was replaying the day in my mind, thinking about things I could have done better at work. I wasn't looking forward to coming home and doing chores-laundry, dishes...
I got closer to the bus stop where she'd been this morning and saw that her cart was tucked under cover. I didn't see her until I got closer and then all I saw was her feet sticking out from under a blanket. I glanced at her from under my rain soaked hood and saw her foot move. I couldn't see her face because it was covered with clothes, blankets, and other pieces of her life.
I turned the corner and swallowed hard. Tears pricked my eyes as I rounded the corner to home. Without a word, I'd been reminded how very lucky I am.
Sometimes she's across the street, curled up on the bus stop bench. She covers her head with the afghan when she tries to sleep.
I wonder how she got there, where she came from. I wonder how I can help her, if she'd let me if I tried. I wonder who the man was and if he'll be back someday. I wonder where she goes at night-she just always seems to be there.
I walked home tonight with a grocery bag and my coat. It was pouring down rain and I thought how I couldn't wait to get home and out of my wet clothes. I was replaying the day in my mind, thinking about things I could have done better at work. I wasn't looking forward to coming home and doing chores-laundry, dishes...
I got closer to the bus stop where she'd been this morning and saw that her cart was tucked under cover. I didn't see her until I got closer and then all I saw was her feet sticking out from under a blanket. I glanced at her from under my rain soaked hood and saw her foot move. I couldn't see her face because it was covered with clothes, blankets, and other pieces of her life.
I turned the corner and swallowed hard. Tears pricked my eyes as I rounded the corner to home. Without a word, I'd been reminded how very lucky I am.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Drowning In My Own Black Waters
I call it the darkness.
I fall into it, the darkness. It engulfs me all at once, and it's cold. I struggle against it, desperately try to reach the surface. Depression is my darkness.
I still laugh. And I make jokes and I say silly things. But it's not real. No one knows that though. I've been doing this a long time, wearing this face. It fits better than my real one. I feel pain. Physical pain. I feel achy and tired in my neck, shoulders, feet and back. I have an intense personal pressure to be over it even though I don't know what it is.
The darkness pulls at me over and over again, repeating every terrible thought I can summon.
I fall into it, the darkness. It engulfs me all at once, and it's cold. I struggle against it, desperately try to reach the surface. Depression is my darkness.
I still laugh. And I make jokes and I say silly things. But it's not real. No one knows that though. I've been doing this a long time, wearing this face. It fits better than my real one. I feel pain. Physical pain. I feel achy and tired in my neck, shoulders, feet and back. I have an intense personal pressure to be over it even though I don't know what it is.
The darkness pulls at me over and over again, repeating every terrible thought I can summon.
I'm broken. I need to be better than I am. I'm not good enough. I'm not what I thought I should be by now and everyone in the whole world knows I've never really done fucking anything with my life and just why exactly am I still here? Who the fuck am I? I'm going to die alone but not before Dad does-he's 72!-and even though he says he will, he won't live forever and how the fuck am I going to get through that? Death. Mom. Loss. Grief. Has it been too long to still feel this way when I think of her? Am I ever going to feel normal?'I'm living in a smelly apartment because I have cats -how cliche- and I stopped giving a shit that it smells like shit. I might be giving up. I watch TV and ignore my chores and eat fucking M&Ms and write depressing blogs that no one actually reads. I'm fat and not fucking ok with it and the new haircut doesn't matter because I didn't lose a chin, just got bangs for fuck's sake.
I struggle. But I don't cry. I don't know if I know how to anymore. At some point I decided there wasn't any point. I try to stay distracted. That's not so easy to do when you have no desire to do anything but sleep and watch Netflix. Work helps. I put a lot of focus into my job and I allow myself to enjoy the successes each day brings. I told someone today that if I didn't have a job, I don't know what I'd do. That scares the shit out of me and the thought becomes another layer to the darkness.
It's too much sometimes. Overwhelming and dark, cold and consuming. Like I'm drowning.
Friday, October 24, 2014
Fat
I'm fat. If I was fat and happy then fuck it right? At least I'm happy. Except I'm kind of not happy right now and I feel the need to whine about it on my blog.
I got my haircut today. I got bangs again and my layers cleaned up. The girl was nice and overall it was a nice experience. Usually I feel pretty after I get my haircut. Except today. Today the giant mirror before the salon chair showed me how fat I was. I'm so big now that my head is starting to look small.
I always thought I carried myself well and that I 'wasn't that bad' but goddammit...I am. I'm not overweight or 'a big girl'. Those are words and phrases I've told myself to avoid using that crushing three letter word.
Fat.
I'm not happy about it.
This is where I promise myself to start eating better and to get back on the treadmill and to not binge, impulse buy sweets, or live off of carbs for the weekend...And this is when I start to feel like shit that I've done all those things and that it's my own fucking fault I'm this way.
I don't like these feelings, but they are very real. Sometimes I try to laugh about it. I'll make a little jab at myself. I try to say it before someone else does. If the thought went through my mind, surely someone else is thinking it. Beat 'em to the punch.
I'm not always wrong you know. There are people that don't like fat people. There are people that find them disgusting and lazy and stupid. I know this because that's just life. I'm not all butt hurt about those people, it's just a fact that bigotry and ignorance exists.
I once went to a seminar with a friend. The speaker spent some time showing us ways to help purge ourselves of negative thought. I found the concept interesting and was looking forward to seeing how the evening played out. At one point, the speaker suggested crossing your legs to provide a more comfortable sitting style. She looked at me and began, "Lindsay, if you can't cross your-"
She cut herself off, "Oh, you got it! Good for you!"
Yes. I can cross my legs. Good for me.
Another woman approached me later and introduced herself. She told me she was so glad to meet me because she'd always been nervous to meet someone like me before. When I asked her what she meant she said, "Oh you know, someone of your size." She said that she didn't think we'd have anything in common but after meeting me, she knew I was just a person.
Just a person. Jesus what else would I be?
I know these people weren't trying to be hurtful. They had no way to know that I would always remember what they said.
Once, when I was walking home, a guy driving by slowed down and leaned out his window, "You should look into Jenny Craig girl!"
Thank you random stranger.
I spent several weeks talking to a guy once on AOL (yes, that long ago) and when I sent him my picture he told me he didn't date fat girls. When AOL was new, I wasn't even fat. I just thought I was.
But I know I am now and as much as I tell myself how awesome I am no matter what size, today it fucking sucks to be an overweight big girl that carries it well.
Today I feel fat.
I got my haircut today. I got bangs again and my layers cleaned up. The girl was nice and overall it was a nice experience. Usually I feel pretty after I get my haircut. Except today. Today the giant mirror before the salon chair showed me how fat I was. I'm so big now that my head is starting to look small.
I always thought I carried myself well and that I 'wasn't that bad' but goddammit...I am. I'm not overweight or 'a big girl'. Those are words and phrases I've told myself to avoid using that crushing three letter word.
Fat.
I'm not happy about it.
This is where I promise myself to start eating better and to get back on the treadmill and to not binge, impulse buy sweets, or live off of carbs for the weekend...And this is when I start to feel like shit that I've done all those things and that it's my own fucking fault I'm this way.
I don't like these feelings, but they are very real. Sometimes I try to laugh about it. I'll make a little jab at myself. I try to say it before someone else does. If the thought went through my mind, surely someone else is thinking it. Beat 'em to the punch.
I'm not always wrong you know. There are people that don't like fat people. There are people that find them disgusting and lazy and stupid. I know this because that's just life. I'm not all butt hurt about those people, it's just a fact that bigotry and ignorance exists.
I once went to a seminar with a friend. The speaker spent some time showing us ways to help purge ourselves of negative thought. I found the concept interesting and was looking forward to seeing how the evening played out. At one point, the speaker suggested crossing your legs to provide a more comfortable sitting style. She looked at me and began, "Lindsay, if you can't cross your-"
She cut herself off, "Oh, you got it! Good for you!"
Yes. I can cross my legs. Good for me.
Another woman approached me later and introduced herself. She told me she was so glad to meet me because she'd always been nervous to meet someone like me before. When I asked her what she meant she said, "Oh you know, someone of your size." She said that she didn't think we'd have anything in common but after meeting me, she knew I was just a person.
Just a person. Jesus what else would I be?
I know these people weren't trying to be hurtful. They had no way to know that I would always remember what they said.
Once, when I was walking home, a guy driving by slowed down and leaned out his window, "You should look into Jenny Craig girl!"
Thank you random stranger.
I spent several weeks talking to a guy once on AOL (yes, that long ago) and when I sent him my picture he told me he didn't date fat girls. When AOL was new, I wasn't even fat. I just thought I was.
But I know I am now and as much as I tell myself how awesome I am no matter what size, today it fucking sucks to be an overweight big girl that carries it well.
Today I feel fat.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Happy Birthday
Hi Mama
Hi Honey, how are you?
I'm ok.
Just ok?
Well, tomorrow is your birthday.
That's right! How old would I have been?
61.
61! Wow that's young, isn't it?
Yes it is Mama
What have you been up to the last eight years?
How much time do you have Mom?
Honey. I have all the time in the world.
I swear I can hear her voice. I can smell her perfume and hear her bracelets sing while she claps her hands at something that wasn't very funny. Except to her. I can feel her arms around me, holding me while I cry and her hands stroking my head. I can hear her humming gentle folk songs into my hair and smell her shampoo. She is with me so strongly right now. The day before her birthday.
But I can't hear her advice. I can't hear what she might say if I asked her for advice about work or about a guy I was dating. I can't taste her banana bread even if I have the recipe committed to memory. I can smell the scent Opium but never again on her skin. I wish she was here so strongly right now. The day before her birthday.
Hi Mama
Hi Honey, how are you?
I'm ok.
Just ok?
Well, tomorrow is your birthday.
That's right! How old would I have been?
61.
61! Wow that's young, isn't it?
Yes it is Mama
What have you been up to the last eight years?
How much time do you have Mom?
Honey. I have all the time in the world.
I swear I can hear her voice. I can smell her perfume and hear her bracelets sing while she claps her hands at something that wasn't very funny. Except to her. I can feel her arms around me, holding me while I cry and her hands stroking my head. I can hear her humming gentle folk songs into my hair and smell her shampoo. She is with me so strongly right now. The day before her birthday.
But I can't hear her advice. I can't hear what she might say if I asked her for advice about work or about a guy I was dating. I can't taste her banana bread even if I have the recipe committed to memory. I can smell the scent Opium but never again on her skin. I wish she was here so strongly right now. The day before her birthday.
Hi Mama
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Luna
One night my mom and dad were out on a drive.
My mom was looking out the window, watching the moon follow her. They stopped at a corner near home and mom made a comment on how bright the moon was that night. Dad nodded, looked over, and told her she was looking at a streetlight
I love that story.
My mom saw the moon in the glow of a streetlight. She saw the beauty in all things and it was a trait she shared with me. Whenever the moon is big and so bright you almost have to squint when you gaze upon it, I think of mom.
Full moon tonight.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Netflixing
Sometimes, when I've worked the night shift and I can't wind down, I'll troll Netflix for something to fall asleep to. Tonight I went to my "Watch it Again" section because I was almost tired enough but still needed a sound to fall asleep to.
The small pictures went past and I started to smile. This list is such a good representation of me.
In no particular order:
Once Upon a Time
Aadams Family
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Breaking Bad
Spaceballs
The X-Files
The Emperor's New Groove
The Sword in the Stone
Dexter
Robin Hood
Clue
Paranorman
Walking Dead
Ghostbusters
Doc of the Dead
Firefly
Lost
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Twin Peaks
Ever After
The Cabin in the Woods
The Muppet Movie
Psych
The Breakfast Club
Gladiator
Freaks and Geeks
Trading Places
Fargo
Coming to America
Birth of the Living Dead
Alfred Hitchcock Presents
Reservoir Dogs
The Graduate
12 Angry Men
Flowers
The Italian Job
The Following
Exit Through the Gift Shop
Classics. Cartoons. Documentaries. Zombies. 80s flicks. Old TV shows. New TV shows. Muppets. This list couldn't be more of a description of me.
The small pictures went past and I started to smile. This list is such a good representation of me.
In no particular order:
Once Upon a Time
Aadams Family
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Breaking Bad
Spaceballs
The X-Files
The Emperor's New Groove
The Sword in the Stone
Dexter
Robin Hood
Clue
Paranorman
Walking Dead
Ghostbusters
Doc of the Dead
Firefly
Lost
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Twin Peaks
Ever After
The Cabin in the Woods
The Muppet Movie
Psych
The Breakfast Club
Gladiator
Freaks and Geeks
Trading Places
Fargo
Coming to America
Birth of the Living Dead
Alfred Hitchcock Presents
Reservoir Dogs
The Graduate
12 Angry Men
Flowers
The Italian Job
The Following
Exit Through the Gift Shop
Classics. Cartoons. Documentaries. Zombies. 80s flicks. Old TV shows. New TV shows. Muppets. This list couldn't be more of a description of me.
Not The One
Today is August 24, 2014.
I don't know you very well yet. We've been chatting for about a week. Sort of. We haven't spoken on the phone yet. I understand it's a rarity to have a conversation on the phone these days and I'm learning to be ok with it.
I "met" you (your profile) through an online dating site. Your name doesn't start with a J and even though that's really nothing, it was something. I like the way you talk about your children and that you aren't looking for their new mom. You said all of you had big enough hearts to make room for the right person. I like that.
I like that you're clever and that you are not afraid to let me know you're interested. Even it's only friendly right now, it's nice to receive little hellos throughout the day. Or to be asked how my day is going.
You seem to be honest. You seem to be kind and maybe a wee bit vulnerable-as though you know sadness is a very real part of life. You don't come across as weak; you seem intelligent and thoughtful, sensitive and sincere. I like that too.
I like your eyes.
I like that we both want to believe in the fairy tale, even if we know better. I like that I already feel as though I've made a friend.
Today is August 26, 2014
I know your last name now. And that you want to meet me soon. I know that we both like the ocean and aren't really good housekeepers and that you feel comfortable with me and I like all those things.
I like that you asked how I slept, that you said good morning.
Today is August 28, 2014
I like that you randomly texted me to say hi. I like that you asked me if I'd seen the moon.
I like that you described an old movie to me and I could sense your enthusiasm even from a text.
I like that you tell dad jokes that make me laugh.
Today is August 30, 2014
I like the way you talk about your ex wife. I can tell it's over but that you still respect her as your kids' mother.
I like that you say good night and good morning to me, and that last night because of my schedule we didn't chat much and you said you missed that.
I like that you ask me random questions like, "do you like pork chops?" just to get to know me better.
I like that we're taking this slow and as a result, I'm being challenged to do things differently.
I like that you like the same things as me, that we seem to share the same values and that you seem to get me....already. How can it have only been two weeks since we first talked?
I like that too. It seems like only yesterday and also like months. Fresh and familiar, comfortable and new.
Today is September 1, 2014
You brought up meeting me again today. You also told me that a girl you contacted was cute, but that you thought she was too nice. That I had an 'edge' and that you needed that in a partner. I liked that.
I know it's such a simple thing, but saying good morning to me is something I like quite a bit.
I like how you're not afraid to tell me things that some people might. You don't mind telling me that you are in therapy, that you have been lonely....that you have a vulnerable side.
It seems like we would be able to find things to do together, either just us or with your kids and have fun, laugh and enjoy ourselves. I like the idea of getting to know you.
Is it too soon to start liking all of these things about you? Maybe I should cool my jets until we see each other in person.
Today is September 10, 2014
We have plans to meet this Sunday and yesterday you told me you were looking forward to it. We only know we're going to have linner together so far but that seems a perfect way to start. I offered to meet you half way and you said you didn't mind the drive. I like that it didn't just seem like something you said.
We have a ridiculous amount in common. It's almost strange. Each time we talk, we find more common ground and it's great. I like clicking with someone and when it's a guy that I'm (at least so far) attracted to, that's a bonus.
I like that you mentioned you were appreciative of something I said. Or didn't say. You were talking about your ex and I didn't badmouth her. I don't see a reason to ever do that to anyone really but you happened to notice it about me and thanked me for it. I like that.
_________________________________________________________
When we discovered we both liked fixer-upper shows last night, I asked if you'd been studying my dating profile or taking notes. You said no, but it occurred to me that you might be-maybe something like what I'm doing here. I don't mind. This process was recommended to me by a friend and it's actually been really great. I'm surprised (pleasantly) that I haven't had any red flags or weird feelings about you. That in itself is a little scary I suppose, almost an other shoe will drop kind of thing but maybe both shoes are already on the ground. Realistically optimistic.
I remember once saying that I hoped I could meet someone that actually liked me, just me. That they didn't care if I was overweight or anxiety ridden or that most of my clothes were covered in cat hair. I just really hoped to find someone like that someday. I feel like maybe he might meet that description. I don't know if we're going to hit it off romantically, but right now it doesn't matter. I'm just looking forward to spending time with him and talking with him live and in person. It's been nearly a month since we started chatting and that's a bit long in the dating scene to wait to meet someone. But in our case, I think it's worked out. We've literally chatted every day, said good morning and good night, asked how each other's day has been....EVERY DAY. That's kind of neat. When I talked to a friend about it she commented how she didn't even do that with her husband. In fairness though, they live together and have been married for years.
I mentioned I was realistically optimistic. I'm cautious too. And I'm listening to myself. My gut is pretty good at judging people or situations but it's not terribly clear right now. I can't figure it out and I'm actually ok with that. It's weird, letting all that 'what if' shit go. Good weird, but weird different. I'm usually freaking out by now and I've pleasantly surprised myself this time by just...letting things happen.
God, please don't let him be a serial killer.
Today is September 14, 2014
You are on your way to pick me up for our first... date? When we started planning, it was 'hanging out' but you've referred to it as a date a couple times over the last week or so. I like that.
I wasn't nervous until this morning when I started to get dressed, trying to figure out what made me look the least fat. I realized then that it didn't matter. I was going to be who I am regardless of what I'm wearing. It's why you wanted to meet after all.
I have heard your voice on the phone now. It's pleasant, normal. I don't know what I expected really but nothing about you has freaked me out so far.
I like how you suggested a ferry ride today. And then lunch on Bainbridge and wandering around window shopping. Perfect way to get to know each other more and it was all your idea.
I like how honest you were yesterday. You told me your day had been kind of shitty and that you were feeling a bit down. I like that you talked to me about why and that you knew that the feeling wouldn't last. I like that you told me one of your struggles is to think about things in the future rather than just the 'now'.
I like that several times you've mentioned that talking to me has solidified what you want in a partner. I like that. Even though you didn't necessarily imply that was me.
I like the excitement and the comfort that I feel about you being on your way to pick me up. I'm nervous, sure. You're someone new. But I'm excited for our adventure. And I feel comfortable talking with you so I know I can be myself and not feel stupid.
I like that you asked if I wanted to make a bracelet. You recently bought one of those loom things and you've been telling me about the bracelets for awhile. I would love to do something like that and you're bringing it. You didn't need to but I like that you asked if I'd be embarrassed if you made them.
I like that even though this is the first time we meet, I know you're going to be on time.
Today is September 15, 2014
We spent the day together yesterday. We wandered in bookstores, toy stores, a chocolate shop and had a delicious lunch at a pub on the water. It was a perfect day, the weather was glorious, we laughed, we shared a comfortable silence...and there was no spark.
I felt like I was hanging out with a friend and I'm not complaining. I suppose I'm a little disappointed if I'm going to be honest. I was hoping that we would have a romantic moment together but it didn't feel like that at all. I like that I've made a friend that I know I can tell anything to. I like that we're comfortable with each other from the start. I like that we can be honest and not feel like we have to be anything else.
I like that I gave this a shot.
Today is September 20, 2014
We're still talking. Well texting. The whole no phone conversation thing is still a little weird to me. We had a conversation recently that confirmed that the spark wasn't there. Not because of anything specifically said, but because we literally asked each other if that ineffable feeling that we both hope for was had. And it wasn't and that's ok. I think that if you meet the right person, you'll know.
But then, maybe it's something that needs to grow. Maybe time is needed to learn about if we want more.
I don't know. I don't know shit about dating and men and even if someone is interested or not.
Today is October 2, 2014
We went out again. Dinner and a movie and although we had a nice time...it wasn't quite nice enough. I wanted to like him more and I felt hopeful. I felt so comfortable...and there was something about his eyes on the second date that made me find him more attractive. That might have been the wine.
It didn't matter. There is no spark and he was very clear that there wouldn't be. I cried a little. Not even because it was him, but because so much time was invested. So much hope was put in, so much effort and conversation and... He's just not the right guy. That's ok. But fuck it was disappointing. And the lonlies kicked in and I wondered for a bit what might be wrong with me.
Then I remembered nothing was wrong with me, or with him. We just weren't the right people for each other.
Dating sucks.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Morning
Morning
Watching the sun rise
painting triangles across the building front
The leaves are trying to change
summer is almost over and they're ready
I'm ready
This time of day you can't tell if it's morning or evening, unless you see the clock
Like I do
It goes by so fast, time
Saturday, August 16, 2014
100
I've been sitting here for awhile now, watching tv, surfing sites-trying to figure out what kind of amazing entry I can make for such a milestone.
I got nuthin'.
It's Saturday, which means my Friday and I ended my week after an 11 hour day. My feet ache, between my shoulders it's all pinchy and when I get up too pee, I'm bent in half like Quasimoto until I'm halfway down the hall.
I had to have a 'discussion' with a staff member today. One of those conversations where I say things I didn't even know I knew how to say and when I feel like I really am a leader.
I dealt with an asshat. Looking back on why I dubbed him as such...I can't even remember what he said because, really-shit like that doesn't matter.
I thought earlier I might cry but I got through it.
I remember not too long ago feeling very overwhelmed with, well, everything. I couldn't deal with work, or being without J., or my weight gain. I felt like shit. A lot. I didn't even realize how much until I didn't anymore.
I changed my mind about some things. I made a few lifestyle changes and tried not letting my thoughts consume me. I started feeling good about letting things go. Including J. I feel...liberated.
Fall is going to be here soon. Football seems to have started early this year too. And the hype for pumpkin things seems to be in more places. Have they finally commercialized a part of nature?
I miss the water. I really want to go to the ocean and when I get my car it's one of the first places I'm going to go by myself. I can see myself so clearly sitting in the driver's seat, windows down, music-my whatever I want to listen to music- and at night. I want to drive down empty roads until I meet the coastline and then just sit and listen to the waves. I'll get out and sit in the damp sand until the wind makes my face numb from cold and then I'll get back into my car and come home.
Or maybe I'd stay. Transfer the money I'm supposed to be saving for whatever I might need it for and stay in a tiny little motel on the beach. I'd write bad poetry on motel stationery and watch a Lifetime movie I would never watch at home. Oh and I'd take a bath because I won't have to clean it afterwards. Maybe in the morning I'd get up in time to drink bad motel room coffee on a balcony facing a gray sky and ocean. I'd leave a small tip for the maid because my mom taught me too and then I'd get back in my car and come home.
Freedom is going to taste so delicious. I've always felt pretty independent but this...this is going to be different. I'm going to be able to experience things on my own that I never have before. I'm going to be introduced to the newest chapter of who I'll be and that's gonna be neat.
The 100th blog. Great place to start.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Because I'm Happy
Sometimes, when life is hard...when it throws something at you that you weren't expecting...it's easy to forget the things to be happy for. I'm going to challenge myself and name at least 50 things that make me happy.
1. Books. Bookstores. The book section in any store. Libraries...The way they smell, the way they feel in my hands while I hold them gently, the way that they stack haphazardly on my shelf. Just knowing that books exist makes me happy. Little rectangles of brilliance.
2. Coffee and conversation with Dad in the morning. It makes me happy to know that we finally have the relationship my mom always hoped we'd have.
3. The Golden Girls. According to an internet quiz, I'm a 'Rose'.
4. My best girlfriends. I've known Melissa and Anne for over 20 years. We've been through some ridiculous moments together, sad moments, wonderful scary moments and everything in between. When we're all together, there is always laughter.
5. Being at the ocean. I always seem to feel so...free there. I feel rejuvenated and connected to the world when I'm able to visit the ocean. Almost as though if I had wings, I'd be able to fly.
6. Finding the perfect picture. Taking pictures in the city or in nature-both places can hold wonder. But when I get the shot that makes the thousand before worth it, a sense of satisfaction comes over me
7. Wind Chimes. The sound of a gentle breeze touching wind chimes brings a sense of peace that is almost indescribable. Even if it's only for a moment, the sound resonates inside, rippling through like a stone cast in water.
8. The first sip of coffee of the day. It is SO good. Hot and steaming and coffee-y.
9. Smiling dogs
10. Knowing all the words to a song (Or finding out the lyrics to a line you always sang kinda mumbly 'cause you didn't know what it really was) A new favorite or an oldie but goodie...when I can sing along and feel the lyrics, the song means more and stays with me.
11. Finding something I thought was lost. I went through my storage room the other day and found all of the postcards my grandmother had sent to me before she died. I haven't read them yet but I'm so glad to have them again-I thought they'd been ruined.
12. Thunderstorms. Boom! Crash! Crack! Heat lightening storms, torrential rain storms...the electricity in the air is fantastic.
13. Helping someone
14. Campfires
15. Ice cream
16. Star Wars puns.
17. When the water is just right. Swimming, shower, bath, rain....doesn't matter. But when it's just the right temperature? Ahhhhh
18. Hearing a compliment. I know, duh right? But I like hearing compliments when they're for other people too. It's just nice to hear people being nice to other people.
19. White Cherry Icees.
20. New socks.
21. New Stephen King book. I still have Mr. Mercedes on my coffee table, waiting patiently me for me to crack it's spine
22. A perfectly ripened avocado
23. Waiting for the curtain to go up
24. New school supplies
25. Flowers. Hydrangeas, foxgloves, lilacs, roses, lily of the valley, dandelions, gladiolas, sunflowers, sweet peas, bluebells, daisies, violets, poppies, wildflowers on the side of the freeway...
26. Fresh baked bread
27. A child's laugh
28. Grocery store cart rides
29, Kitty face nudges
30. Watching the sun set, or rise
31. Clicking with someone new. Doesn't matter if its romantic or friendly-that first spark is neat.
32. Swinging on the swings. Never too old to lean back and look at the trees a little differently.
33. The wind catching my hair. Or my skirt. Spring and Summer breezes preferred.
34. Visiting the elephants
35. Learning something new
36. Muppets
37. Ice cold milk with something sweet
38. The smell of the beach. Salty and cool and that moment when you first get close enough to smell it
39. The sound of my dad snoring in front of a football game.
40. Trees. Great, large green branches reaching to the sky and leafy oaks of red, brown and orange.
41. Old Bugs Bunny cartoons
42. Quoting a movie line and having someone yell, "I love that movie!"
43. Wandering in museums
44. Series finales that end well
45. Clean sheets on naked skin
46. Balloons floating through a bright blue sky
47. Hearing a song my mom used to sing to help me sleep. My favorite is Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell. It's a sad happy, but it still counts.
48. Chocolate
49. That moment when you finally let yourself be ok with who you really are
50. Being me.
1. Books. Bookstores. The book section in any store. Libraries...The way they smell, the way they feel in my hands while I hold them gently, the way that they stack haphazardly on my shelf. Just knowing that books exist makes me happy. Little rectangles of brilliance.
2. Coffee and conversation with Dad in the morning. It makes me happy to know that we finally have the relationship my mom always hoped we'd have.
3. The Golden Girls. According to an internet quiz, I'm a 'Rose'.
4. My best girlfriends. I've known Melissa and Anne for over 20 years. We've been through some ridiculous moments together, sad moments, wonderful scary moments and everything in between. When we're all together, there is always laughter.
5. Being at the ocean. I always seem to feel so...free there. I feel rejuvenated and connected to the world when I'm able to visit the ocean. Almost as though if I had wings, I'd be able to fly.
6. Finding the perfect picture. Taking pictures in the city or in nature-both places can hold wonder. But when I get the shot that makes the thousand before worth it, a sense of satisfaction comes over me
7. Wind Chimes. The sound of a gentle breeze touching wind chimes brings a sense of peace that is almost indescribable. Even if it's only for a moment, the sound resonates inside, rippling through like a stone cast in water.
8. The first sip of coffee of the day. It is SO good. Hot and steaming and coffee-y.
9. Smiling dogs
10. Knowing all the words to a song (Or finding out the lyrics to a line you always sang kinda mumbly 'cause you didn't know what it really was) A new favorite or an oldie but goodie...when I can sing along and feel the lyrics, the song means more and stays with me.
11. Finding something I thought was lost. I went through my storage room the other day and found all of the postcards my grandmother had sent to me before she died. I haven't read them yet but I'm so glad to have them again-I thought they'd been ruined.
12. Thunderstorms. Boom! Crash! Crack! Heat lightening storms, torrential rain storms...the electricity in the air is fantastic.
13. Helping someone
14. Campfires
15. Ice cream
16. Star Wars puns.
17. When the water is just right. Swimming, shower, bath, rain....doesn't matter. But when it's just the right temperature? Ahhhhh
18. Hearing a compliment. I know, duh right? But I like hearing compliments when they're for other people too. It's just nice to hear people being nice to other people.
19. White Cherry Icees.
20. New socks.
21. New Stephen King book. I still have Mr. Mercedes on my coffee table, waiting patiently me for me to crack it's spine
22. A perfectly ripened avocado
23. Waiting for the curtain to go up
24. New school supplies
25. Flowers. Hydrangeas, foxgloves, lilacs, roses, lily of the valley, dandelions, gladiolas, sunflowers, sweet peas, bluebells, daisies, violets, poppies, wildflowers on the side of the freeway...
26. Fresh baked bread
27. A child's laugh
28. Grocery store cart rides
29, Kitty face nudges
30. Watching the sun set, or rise
31. Clicking with someone new. Doesn't matter if its romantic or friendly-that first spark is neat.
32. Swinging on the swings. Never too old to lean back and look at the trees a little differently.
33. The wind catching my hair. Or my skirt. Spring and Summer breezes preferred.
34. Visiting the elephants
35. Learning something new
36. Muppets
37. Ice cold milk with something sweet
38. The smell of the beach. Salty and cool and that moment when you first get close enough to smell it
39. The sound of my dad snoring in front of a football game.
40. Trees. Great, large green branches reaching to the sky and leafy oaks of red, brown and orange.
41. Old Bugs Bunny cartoons
42. Quoting a movie line and having someone yell, "I love that movie!"
43. Wandering in museums
44. Series finales that end well
45. Clean sheets on naked skin
46. Balloons floating through a bright blue sky
47. Hearing a song my mom used to sing to help me sleep. My favorite is Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell. It's a sad happy, but it still counts.
48. Chocolate
49. That moment when you finally let yourself be ok with who you really are
50. Being me.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Off the Blue Pill
I'm feeling a little sad tonight. I don't want to and it's been a long time since I have but...Yeah. I feel sad. Like I want to cry. But I can't cry. And I want to be held but that I wouldn't let anyone touch me. This is what it's like being a woman on her white row of birth control pills.
The problem with having a blog that you let everyone read is being able to talk about things that some people don't want to know. But I promised myself that when I started writing this blog about a year or so ago now, that I would say whatever I felt when I felt it. And right now, I feel sad.
I feel sad because a friend of mine is very sick. And while she's not my family by blood, she's part of the family in my heart. And her mother and her aunt and her sister and her grandmother and her father and her grandfather and everyone else that she holds dear are feeling the sadness too and that's just so much.
I've been trying to think of happy things to think about. I've started a list. But I'm stuck before I'm halfway there and the list is getting lame.
One of my best friends is helping me tremendously by giving me something to help me get farther in my personal goals. It wasn't expected and it was a beautiful gesture and I am so fucking lucky to have the friends I do.
I feel sad because I went to wash my hands after dinner and for a moment I forgot she was gone. I nearly reached for the phone because sometimes, it still feels like I can call and tell mom about the things going on in my life. But I can't.
A friend of mine told me he thought he'd finally met the perfect girl for him. He told me all about their first date and how excited he was to have the second. He told me they made out to classic rock and how he felt so lucky. I smiled and encouraged him to enjoy every moment he could spend with her-that he deserved the joy he was feeling.
I feel sad because I remember that feeling and it's addicting. Euphoric and magical and terrifically scary. And rare. Some only wonder what that feels like. I'm so fucking lucky to be able to describe it.
The back and forth of being female is such a roller coaster.
Life's little deathtrap carnival ride when all I want is an elephant ear.
I need distraction and Netflix is failing me and the cursor doesn't feel inspirational anymore, it feels mocking. I still want to cry but I also want to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's AND I want to have sex. All at the same time.
I guess that's better than just feeling sad.
The problem with having a blog that you let everyone read is being able to talk about things that some people don't want to know. But I promised myself that when I started writing this blog about a year or so ago now, that I would say whatever I felt when I felt it. And right now, I feel sad.
I feel sad because a friend of mine is very sick. And while she's not my family by blood, she's part of the family in my heart. And her mother and her aunt and her sister and her grandmother and her father and her grandfather and everyone else that she holds dear are feeling the sadness too and that's just so much.
I've been trying to think of happy things to think about. I've started a list. But I'm stuck before I'm halfway there and the list is getting lame.
One of my best friends is helping me tremendously by giving me something to help me get farther in my personal goals. It wasn't expected and it was a beautiful gesture and I am so fucking lucky to have the friends I do.
I feel sad because I went to wash my hands after dinner and for a moment I forgot she was gone. I nearly reached for the phone because sometimes, it still feels like I can call and tell mom about the things going on in my life. But I can't.
A friend of mine told me he thought he'd finally met the perfect girl for him. He told me all about their first date and how excited he was to have the second. He told me they made out to classic rock and how he felt so lucky. I smiled and encouraged him to enjoy every moment he could spend with her-that he deserved the joy he was feeling.
I feel sad because I remember that feeling and it's addicting. Euphoric and magical and terrifically scary. And rare. Some only wonder what that feels like. I'm so fucking lucky to be able to describe it.
The back and forth of being female is such a roller coaster.
Life's little deathtrap carnival ride when all I want is an elephant ear.
I need distraction and Netflix is failing me and the cursor doesn't feel inspirational anymore, it feels mocking. I still want to cry but I also want to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's AND I want to have sex. All at the same time.
I guess that's better than just feeling sad.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Potato Salad
I called Dad the other day to ask him what was in Mom's potato salad. It's sort of the season for potato salad and I've been lucky enough to have a few so far. All were good, but you know how a mom recipe sometimes is the only one that will do.
I couldn't remember anything about it except that it had something crunchy in it and it was good.
So I called Dad to ask.
"Uhhhh...potatoes?"
"Yes, thanks Dad. Got that. And mayo."
"A little mustard..? Hang on, I'll see if I can find the recipe." I hear rustling on the other end of the phone and imagine him holding mom's old recipe book. The pages were all warped and they made that really great crinkly sound when you turned them. The books smelled like memories. I'd try to identify the stains net to often used recipes. Milk? Butter? Chocolate? Tomato sauce? Possibly all of those things.
"I remember something crunchy. I swear it was radishes."
Pause from Dad. "Radishes? No." His voice says that's just an absurd thought.
"Oh! Pickles? Dill pickles?"
"Of course pickles." Ridiculous to not include pickles.
We chat a bit more about mom's recipe but decide those ingredients, along with salt and pepper 'to taste' will do it. Then he tells me about a contest he was in.
"It was for the golf course-they were having a banquet or some shit-a contest. Whoever made the best potato salad, the owner would replicate the recipe and put it on the menu. I forgot about it until the last minute and started throwing things together that morning."
I'm smiling on my end of the phone. This is totally how I cook too.
"I used red potatoes-"
"Do people usually use another kind?" I interrupt.
"I don't know. I used what was on the counter."
"Right. Ok, so red potatoes."
"Then I threw in some shrimp, used grey poupon mustard, Best Foods mayo...only the best ingredients. Mine was the first salad finished at the contest but I didn't win. The owner couldn't let me win because to make it on a regular basis would have been too expensive. So, I came in second. Even though everyone knew mine was the best. She had to rig the contest."
"Sounds good Dad."
He chuckles, "Yeah, well. I can get creative if I want to."
He really has made some interesting concoctions. He not only likes to get creative, he likes to tell me about the process. I think he's hoping to shock me with the ingredients. It works sometimes. Like the morning he told me he had sauerkraut and baked beans for breakfast. Or the time he made scrambled eggs with spaghetti and meat sauce. My mom had books and recipe cards, dad has ingenuity.
And me? I have both.
I couldn't remember anything about it except that it had something crunchy in it and it was good.
So I called Dad to ask.
"Uhhhh...potatoes?"
"Yes, thanks Dad. Got that. And mayo."
"A little mustard..? Hang on, I'll see if I can find the recipe." I hear rustling on the other end of the phone and imagine him holding mom's old recipe book. The pages were all warped and they made that really great crinkly sound when you turned them. The books smelled like memories. I'd try to identify the stains net to often used recipes. Milk? Butter? Chocolate? Tomato sauce? Possibly all of those things.
"I remember something crunchy. I swear it was radishes."
Pause from Dad. "Radishes? No." His voice says that's just an absurd thought.
"Oh! Pickles? Dill pickles?"
"Of course pickles." Ridiculous to not include pickles.
We chat a bit more about mom's recipe but decide those ingredients, along with salt and pepper 'to taste' will do it. Then he tells me about a contest he was in.
"It was for the golf course-they were having a banquet or some shit-a contest. Whoever made the best potato salad, the owner would replicate the recipe and put it on the menu. I forgot about it until the last minute and started throwing things together that morning."
I'm smiling on my end of the phone. This is totally how I cook too.
"I used red potatoes-"
"Do people usually use another kind?" I interrupt.
"I don't know. I used what was on the counter."
"Right. Ok, so red potatoes."
"Then I threw in some shrimp, used grey poupon mustard, Best Foods mayo...only the best ingredients. Mine was the first salad finished at the contest but I didn't win. The owner couldn't let me win because to make it on a regular basis would have been too expensive. So, I came in second. Even though everyone knew mine was the best. She had to rig the contest."
"Sounds good Dad."
He chuckles, "Yeah, well. I can get creative if I want to."
He really has made some interesting concoctions. He not only likes to get creative, he likes to tell me about the process. I think he's hoping to shock me with the ingredients. It works sometimes. Like the morning he told me he had sauerkraut and baked beans for breakfast. Or the time he made scrambled eggs with spaghetti and meat sauce. My mom had books and recipe cards, dad has ingenuity.
And me? I have both.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Up Late
Lying still a soft glow
bathes my skin
Your hands travel over my flesh
drinking me in
Reason fades with quickened breaths
I surrender
I drown
in your caress
bathes my skin
Your hands travel over my flesh
drinking me in
Reason fades with quickened breaths
I surrender
I drown
in your caress
The First Time
I wasn't always like this.
I'm wide awake in a nightgown that no one has ever seen. I bought it a few months ago in case I had a one night stand. First time wearing it tonight and that's because it was the only thing clean.
I wasn't always someone that would contemplate one night stands in lingerie. I wasn't even someone that had sex. Not for a long time.
I was 26 the year I met him and it took a year for me to convince him to take my virginity. He didn't want to, said it would ruin our friendship and of course, that made me want him more. J1 had badly frosted hair that I'd done one night when he begged me to. After I shaved his back and rubbed his feet. I was an idiot.
He was good looking though-at least to me. I thought he was a real catch and he did too. "People tell me I look like Brad Pitt", he told me maybe three hours after I'd met him. We were in Costco and I was looking at the books, the only item in the store I could conceive anyone needing in bulk. He was on the other side of the stacks, randomly picking up books and fanning the pages. I smiled at him, "Oh. Yeah? I can totally can see that."
I couldn't see it.
A few weeks later I used my AAA card to have his dead van towed. I didn't even drive at the time-my parents wanted me to have it in case of emergencies. Evidently making a boy like me was an emergency. We hung out a few more times after that with the couple that introduced us and then it was mostly just me and him. He had his own place but he practically lived with me. Every day he'd drive over or ride his bike if the van was dead again, and we'd hang out watching movies, smoking pot and building sexual tension.
I felt it waaaay before him but that usually happens. I wanted him to kiss me first. We used to play the wrestling-but-is-it-really-wrestling? game. He knew all the places I was the most ticklish and relished in my exaggerated squeals.When he was working, he'd come over after his shift was done, caked in mud from a construction job and plop down on my couch as though he was home. He'd peel off his boots and beg me to rub his feet. And I'd do it. Pre-shower. I would do it for the moment when his head fell back and a groan rumbled up his throat. His eyes would close and a small smile would play across his lips. I would do it for that ache of touching him but never connecting. Fucking torture.
I was waiting tables in a slice of Hell and making good tips. I was irresponsible and depressed so I bought a lot of shit. I told myself I was doing it because I liked to do nice things for people. It wasn't until nearly 10 years later I realized I bought him things because it was something nice for me. He would say thank you, sometimes hug me and be happy for a moment because of something I'd done. I was desperate for his attention.
I finally got it in the Fall of 2003.
We loaded a bowl and turned on wrestling-a night like any other. I turned to him at the commercial break, passed him the pipe. "How come you've never tried to fuck me?" I was a little more blunt when I was smoking. He looked at me and choked on the hit he'd just inhaled.
"I don't-um..what?"
"We should totally have sex." I took back the pipe, hit the bowl and then put it on the table. I was ready. I'd been ready for years but something about that day right then, made it the right time. I wanted to have sex with him and I was going to make it happen.
"No. Lindsay, it's not a good idea. I mean, we're friends and I don't want to ruin that...Besides, you're a virgin and I don't know...it's kind of a big-"
I made him be quiet with my mouth. He started kissing me back and when I knew I had him, I stopped.
"It's ok. I promise. This is what I want. I choose you. A lot of women don't get to really choose their first. Do this with me."
And he did. And then all the magical illusions you have before you have sex for the first time are gone and your sitting on your couch in the clothes you had on an hour ago, looking at the guy you just had sex with and wondering when he's going to go home so you can call your friends and freak out.
God it's so awkward, right? And I had built this shit up in my head. I wasn't so naive to think that I it was going to be rose petal bedspreads and fireworks, but as he was leaving he said, "Um. So...thanks for the sex?" Like even he wasn't sure that's what had just happened.
It got better though. He became my teacher and I was his eager student. He pretty much let me do anything with him and he was sweet enough to say "Are you sure you've never done that before?" once or twice. And then a routine developed and my mom got sick. I fell into the depression more and he decided he didn't know how (didn't want) to handle all of that.
I don't remember the last conversation we had very clearly, but I know I was sobbing. He was my first and those are the hardest to let go of.
Nearly a decade went by before I could hang out with him and be ok with it. We're friends now Occasionally he'll make a comment about how I've got a 'purty mouth' and I'll smile, remembering that first night on the couch. But over the years he's become one of those people you know will always be in your life because of everything you went through together. A friend.
I'm wide awake in a nightgown that no one has ever seen. I bought it a few months ago in case I had a one night stand. First time wearing it tonight and that's because it was the only thing clean.
I wasn't always someone that would contemplate one night stands in lingerie. I wasn't even someone that had sex. Not for a long time.
I was 26 the year I met him and it took a year for me to convince him to take my virginity. He didn't want to, said it would ruin our friendship and of course, that made me want him more. J1 had badly frosted hair that I'd done one night when he begged me to. After I shaved his back and rubbed his feet. I was an idiot.
He was good looking though-at least to me. I thought he was a real catch and he did too. "People tell me I look like Brad Pitt", he told me maybe three hours after I'd met him. We were in Costco and I was looking at the books, the only item in the store I could conceive anyone needing in bulk. He was on the other side of the stacks, randomly picking up books and fanning the pages. I smiled at him, "Oh. Yeah? I can totally can see that."
I couldn't see it.
A few weeks later I used my AAA card to have his dead van towed. I didn't even drive at the time-my parents wanted me to have it in case of emergencies. Evidently making a boy like me was an emergency. We hung out a few more times after that with the couple that introduced us and then it was mostly just me and him. He had his own place but he practically lived with me. Every day he'd drive over or ride his bike if the van was dead again, and we'd hang out watching movies, smoking pot and building sexual tension.
I felt it waaaay before him but that usually happens. I wanted him to kiss me first. We used to play the wrestling-but-is-it-really-wrestling? game. He knew all the places I was the most ticklish and relished in my exaggerated squeals.When he was working, he'd come over after his shift was done, caked in mud from a construction job and plop down on my couch as though he was home. He'd peel off his boots and beg me to rub his feet. And I'd do it. Pre-shower. I would do it for the moment when his head fell back and a groan rumbled up his throat. His eyes would close and a small smile would play across his lips. I would do it for that ache of touching him but never connecting. Fucking torture.
I was waiting tables in a slice of Hell and making good tips. I was irresponsible and depressed so I bought a lot of shit. I told myself I was doing it because I liked to do nice things for people. It wasn't until nearly 10 years later I realized I bought him things because it was something nice for me. He would say thank you, sometimes hug me and be happy for a moment because of something I'd done. I was desperate for his attention.
I finally got it in the Fall of 2003.
We loaded a bowl and turned on wrestling-a night like any other. I turned to him at the commercial break, passed him the pipe. "How come you've never tried to fuck me?" I was a little more blunt when I was smoking. He looked at me and choked on the hit he'd just inhaled.
"I don't-um..what?"
"We should totally have sex." I took back the pipe, hit the bowl and then put it on the table. I was ready. I'd been ready for years but something about that day right then, made it the right time. I wanted to have sex with him and I was going to make it happen.
"No. Lindsay, it's not a good idea. I mean, we're friends and I don't want to ruin that...Besides, you're a virgin and I don't know...it's kind of a big-"
I made him be quiet with my mouth. He started kissing me back and when I knew I had him, I stopped.
"It's ok. I promise. This is what I want. I choose you. A lot of women don't get to really choose their first. Do this with me."
And he did. And then all the magical illusions you have before you have sex for the first time are gone and your sitting on your couch in the clothes you had on an hour ago, looking at the guy you just had sex with and wondering when he's going to go home so you can call your friends and freak out.
God it's so awkward, right? And I had built this shit up in my head. I wasn't so naive to think that I it was going to be rose petal bedspreads and fireworks, but as he was leaving he said, "Um. So...thanks for the sex?" Like even he wasn't sure that's what had just happened.
It got better though. He became my teacher and I was his eager student. He pretty much let me do anything with him and he was sweet enough to say "Are you sure you've never done that before?" once or twice. And then a routine developed and my mom got sick. I fell into the depression more and he decided he didn't know how (didn't want) to handle all of that.
I don't remember the last conversation we had very clearly, but I know I was sobbing. He was my first and those are the hardest to let go of.
Nearly a decade went by before I could hang out with him and be ok with it. We're friends now Occasionally he'll make a comment about how I've got a 'purty mouth' and I'll smile, remembering that first night on the couch. But over the years he's become one of those people you know will always be in your life because of everything you went through together. A friend.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Still Can't
Frustration. Resignation. Hesitation.
I can't believe letting go of him has been this hard. I'm almost, no I am, mad at myself for not being over him yet. Stupid, I know.
I want to hear his voice, touch his skin, lay next to him, walk with him, laugh with him....I want to be near him. And I try to remember the moments when I don't but they are harder to recall.
He drove me nuts with his need to be so very fucking logical. It was hard to be around him when he was especially introverted. But he was honest with me. Always. And its not always perfect.
Did I give up too soon? Did I run instead of fight? Is there anything I could have done? There's more then just, "he's an asshole", though that would be much easier.
Maybe we didn't understand each other. Maybe we never will. We talked briefly about another chance and my heart swelled with hope and possibility. But I still said no. And now I'm miserable.
I think of him constantly. I'm sure much more than he does of me. I need something to help me not...miss him so. Is it because I'm lonely? Is it because I'm afraid no one will love me again? Is it because I really just can't imagine anyone else? Who says I'm supposed to have someone anyway?
Live for me. Love yourself. I know these things and yet all the little tiny things that made us...us...haunt me. I long for small moments of being with him-anywhere.
What is my real challenge here? Its not fair to still feel this way. Each day goes by and I know his routines and I still want to be a part of them. I want to grow with him.
But is it the right thing to do? Something made me stop before. I have to remember that. Its so easy to ignore when my heart is screaming,"you may not have another chance!"
I want to tell him all these things but that's not fair either. None of this is fair.
I can't believe letting go of him has been this hard. I'm almost, no I am, mad at myself for not being over him yet. Stupid, I know.
I want to hear his voice, touch his skin, lay next to him, walk with him, laugh with him....I want to be near him. And I try to remember the moments when I don't but they are harder to recall.
He drove me nuts with his need to be so very fucking logical. It was hard to be around him when he was especially introverted. But he was honest with me. Always. And its not always perfect.
Did I give up too soon? Did I run instead of fight? Is there anything I could have done? There's more then just, "he's an asshole", though that would be much easier.
Maybe we didn't understand each other. Maybe we never will. We talked briefly about another chance and my heart swelled with hope and possibility. But I still said no. And now I'm miserable.
I think of him constantly. I'm sure much more than he does of me. I need something to help me not...miss him so. Is it because I'm lonely? Is it because I'm afraid no one will love me again? Is it because I really just can't imagine anyone else? Who says I'm supposed to have someone anyway?
Live for me. Love yourself. I know these things and yet all the little tiny things that made us...us...haunt me. I long for small moments of being with him-anywhere.
What is my real challenge here? Its not fair to still feel this way. Each day goes by and I know his routines and I still want to be a part of them. I want to grow with him.
But is it the right thing to do? Something made me stop before. I have to remember that. Its so easy to ignore when my heart is screaming,"you may not have another chance!"
I want to tell him all these things but that's not fair either. None of this is fair.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Better off
I'm better off without him. I shouldn't miss him so. I look for him everywhere. He wasn't right for me. A million times I know. My heart still pulls for him to hold it.
I wish I could let go of him. Move on to someone else. But he loved me and I know its true. I'll never have the same again. I'm better off without him. I shouldn't miss him so.
He wasn't nice or kind in heart. He didn't understand. He treated me like no one. I begged for him to see. I loved the two of us so strongly but it want quite enough. I didn't know that love could lose.
I wonder where he is these days, I wish to see his face. I wonder if he'd smile at me or look away unfazed. I miss the way he touched me, the way he held me close. But he pushed more than he wanted me. I'm better off without him. I shouldn't miss him so.
I wish I could let go of him. Move on to someone else. But he loved me and I know its true. I'll never have the same again. I'm better off without him. I shouldn't miss him so.
He wasn't nice or kind in heart. He didn't understand. He treated me like no one. I begged for him to see. I loved the two of us so strongly but it want quite enough. I didn't know that love could lose.
I wonder where he is these days, I wish to see his face. I wonder if he'd smile at me or look away unfazed. I miss the way he touched me, the way he held me close. But he pushed more than he wanted me. I'm better off without him. I shouldn't miss him so.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
So Much
There's so many different thoughts going on inside my head and in my heart and the two keep slamming into each other and I feel sometimes like I might explode.
I seriously feel a little crazy.
I woke up from a bad dream this morning. I don't remember everything, except that my dad was in it. He was hiding from me, under a sheet and I went to touch his shoulder because he seemed so terrifyingly still and then he rolled over quickly, threw back the sheet with that crazy laugh he has, scaring me awake. I instantly started crying without really even being conscious enough to know why. And then I went to work.
Crazy busy and very retail-y today.
I came home and ate pizza for dinner. Instantly felt guilty about it because I'm fat. It's not my favorite thing to think about but it's hard to ignore the fact that my back is all whacked because of my weight.
I called my dad today to whine about how not great I feel and he told me to get my driver's license. I know he was trying to help me and I love him for it but he's been telling me to get my license for years. He feels that it's going to be this AMAZING THING that will change my life. I totally agree that it would give me a new freedom and allow me to expand my life adventures and I absolutely want to get my license. But it's not just getting the license. It's taking the lessons, buying a car, buying insurance, getting tabs, buying gas and overall maintenance. In other words, it's not cheap. And it takes time investment. I have no desire to pursue ANYTHING right now.
I really didn't need to hear the 'you should get your license' chat today. But he didn't know that and he was just trying to help. I know it. Sigh.
I am very emotional right now. Oh who am I kidding? I'm emotional all the time.
I keep thinking about my ex boyfriend. I cringe even writing that sentence. I want so desperately to not remember all the wonderful reasons I loved him. It feels like it would be easier if I could only remember why it's over. I logically know that there's no time limit to dealing with loss. In fact, I said that to someone else today but when it comes to me...I just want to let my heart win.
Did I mention I was fat? So do something about it, right? Yeah, it's just that I don't care. I know it's not a good thing for me to be overweight. I understand the health risks, the fact that even my genes are against me on this and yes, I understand that pizza is not a good thing to have for dinner as often as I do. Does that change the fact that there's a pint of Peanut Butter Pie ice cream sitting next to me? No. Because even though I know it's bad, I don't care that it is. See? Crazy.
I feel sad too. And exhausted . Because of my job, I have to wear a certain amount of retail face and my god, sometimes it's just so...much. I don't want to go out or talk to people or even function most of the time. But I HAVE to.
I feel that I'm thisclose to falling into the darkness that I've been teetering on for the last....I don't even know how long I've felt this way. I can't remember when I didn't.
I seriously feel a little crazy.
I woke up from a bad dream this morning. I don't remember everything, except that my dad was in it. He was hiding from me, under a sheet and I went to touch his shoulder because he seemed so terrifyingly still and then he rolled over quickly, threw back the sheet with that crazy laugh he has, scaring me awake. I instantly started crying without really even being conscious enough to know why. And then I went to work.
Crazy busy and very retail-y today.
I came home and ate pizza for dinner. Instantly felt guilty about it because I'm fat. It's not my favorite thing to think about but it's hard to ignore the fact that my back is all whacked because of my weight.
I called my dad today to whine about how not great I feel and he told me to get my driver's license. I know he was trying to help me and I love him for it but he's been telling me to get my license for years. He feels that it's going to be this AMAZING THING that will change my life. I totally agree that it would give me a new freedom and allow me to expand my life adventures and I absolutely want to get my license. But it's not just getting the license. It's taking the lessons, buying a car, buying insurance, getting tabs, buying gas and overall maintenance. In other words, it's not cheap. And it takes time investment. I have no desire to pursue ANYTHING right now.
I really didn't need to hear the 'you should get your license' chat today. But he didn't know that and he was just trying to help. I know it. Sigh.
I am very emotional right now. Oh who am I kidding? I'm emotional all the time.
I keep thinking about my ex boyfriend. I cringe even writing that sentence. I want so desperately to not remember all the wonderful reasons I loved him. It feels like it would be easier if I could only remember why it's over. I logically know that there's no time limit to dealing with loss. In fact, I said that to someone else today but when it comes to me...I just want to let my heart win.
Did I mention I was fat? So do something about it, right? Yeah, it's just that I don't care. I know it's not a good thing for me to be overweight. I understand the health risks, the fact that even my genes are against me on this and yes, I understand that pizza is not a good thing to have for dinner as often as I do. Does that change the fact that there's a pint of Peanut Butter Pie ice cream sitting next to me? No. Because even though I know it's bad, I don't care that it is. See? Crazy.
I feel sad too. And exhausted . Because of my job, I have to wear a certain amount of retail face and my god, sometimes it's just so...much. I don't want to go out or talk to people or even function most of the time. But I HAVE to.
I feel that I'm thisclose to falling into the darkness that I've been teetering on for the last....I don't even know how long I've felt this way. I can't remember when I didn't.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Somewhere Out There
I make this list every once in awhile.
last year's list
Dear Right Man for Me,
Please don't live with your parents. I didn't use to think this was going to be an issue until I dated a guy that lived in his parent's basement. There were issues.
Also, please don't still live with your ex as 'just friends'. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me there's nothing going on...it's weird.
Can you not have any venereal diseases? That would be great, thanks.
Please don't sleep with someone else when we're together. Just tell me if you don't want me anymore. It will suck, not gonna lie, but I promise-it is SO much better than you lying.
Also, don't be an angerball ok? I like smiling and laughing and stuff and I'd like to be able to do that with you.
Before you decide you want to be a regular part of my life, can you make sure that your feelings match mine? I wouldn't want you to waste our time if you 'weren't quite sure' or worse, still holding feelings for someone else. Be just mine.
It would be great if you weren't married. Being the 'other woman' doesn't do it for me.
Please be kind, sensitive, honest, gentle but strong, fun, smart and open minded. Be able to communicate and compromise.
You should probably like cats.
I have some shit to work out still so I'm not quite ready for you. Don't be too concerned though-we'll meet when it's the right time. I just know it.
Sincerely and lovingly,
Me
This year's list was a lot shorter. These are the lessons I've learned, the lessons I don't need to live again. Every time it's not right, it helps me learn more about what will be.
Just, seriously. God, Universe, Buddha, whatever....I'm done ok? I've learned enough.
last year's list
Dear Right Man for Me,
Please don't live with your parents. I didn't use to think this was going to be an issue until I dated a guy that lived in his parent's basement. There were issues.
Also, please don't still live with your ex as 'just friends'. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me there's nothing going on...it's weird.
Can you not have any venereal diseases? That would be great, thanks.
Please don't sleep with someone else when we're together. Just tell me if you don't want me anymore. It will suck, not gonna lie, but I promise-it is SO much better than you lying.
Also, don't be an angerball ok? I like smiling and laughing and stuff and I'd like to be able to do that with you.
Before you decide you want to be a regular part of my life, can you make sure that your feelings match mine? I wouldn't want you to waste our time if you 'weren't quite sure' or worse, still holding feelings for someone else. Be just mine.
It would be great if you weren't married. Being the 'other woman' doesn't do it for me.
Please be kind, sensitive, honest, gentle but strong, fun, smart and open minded. Be able to communicate and compromise.
You should probably like cats.
I have some shit to work out still so I'm not quite ready for you. Don't be too concerned though-we'll meet when it's the right time. I just know it.
Sincerely and lovingly,
Me
This year's list was a lot shorter. These are the lessons I've learned, the lessons I don't need to live again. Every time it's not right, it helps me learn more about what will be.
Just, seriously. God, Universe, Buddha, whatever....I'm done ok? I've learned enough.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Just Now
My heart hurts. I keep getting waves of sad crashing into me and it just doesn't stop. Oh I wish it would.
Fucking Valentines day is coming. I wish I was one of those girls that said, "I don't need anything" and meant it.
I talk about how much I hate the holiday but all I want is for someone to love me enough to want to celebrate it.
Last year I was in a meeting on Valentines day, flirting with a new love though text messages. I remember feeling like I'd never be alone again.
February 3rd. Logically I know its silly to have an "anniversary" but I just...wanted it so badly. I wanted to belong to someone and for them to belong to me. I was so sure.
I don't want to miss him anymore. My heart hurts.
Fucking Valentines day is coming. I wish I was one of those girls that said, "I don't need anything" and meant it.
I talk about how much I hate the holiday but all I want is for someone to love me enough to want to celebrate it.
Last year I was in a meeting on Valentines day, flirting with a new love though text messages. I remember feeling like I'd never be alone again.
February 3rd. Logically I know its silly to have an "anniversary" but I just...wanted it so badly. I wanted to belong to someone and for them to belong to me. I was so sure.
I don't want to miss him anymore. My heart hurts.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Apology
I still feel guilty about the way things ended.
A text message. Jesus, both of us deserved better.
I guess it was over before then and I told myself that I tried but I could have tried harder.
I called you a couple times. One time you didn't answer, another I could tell you weren't really listening. I thought about writing you a letter but that felt shitty too.
I remember the exact moment I knew it was time.
I had just woken up and I reached for my phone to look for your daily good morning wish. It wasn't there. It hadn't been there in weeks and I hadn't told you I noticed. We'd seen each other, we'd had dinner together, we'd been intimate and still I said nothing about how it felt like you were pulling away.
I knew you were, you knew you were and we broke our promise to each other by not talking about it.
That morning I texted 11 words and hesitated, my finger above the send button. I closed my eyes, still holding the phone and breathed deeply. I took several breaths, tried to listen to my heart and my head at the same time. Everything went back and forth inside and then I heard, clear as day,"It's the right thing to do."
I pushed send.
I have to tell you I can't be with you anymore.
It was early in the morning and I hadn't been able to sleep. I knew you weren't going to get the message until later in the day but I still checked my phone obsessively. I thought about how you would feel when you read the words-if you would already know. I wondered if you'd be angry or sad or surprised or if you even cared.
I had tried talking to you about my feelings, about where I was and what I needed. You weren't right for me and I'd known it for awhile but I didn't want to. I told you everything I could but I could have tried harder. I told you that I wasn't emotionally strong enough to see you, and that I needed more time to fully explain. To me it seemed so very obvious but it wasn't to you and I couldn't figure out how to tell you. I'm so sorry. I didn't want things to end, I didn't want us to end.
I had to break up with you so that I could be with me. I had to put myself, my feelings, my heart...first. And it was awful and it hurt so much and I know I should have tried to do things better but I didn't and it's over and I haven't talked to you in almost a month. I picked up the phone a million times and I thought about that letter again. I even thought about going to the park by your place and waiting for you to come home, just in case you wanted to talk to me.
But I didn't. I chose me instead. And I cried. And I poured myself into my work. And I rekindled old friendships. And I realized some things about myself. That sucked too at the same time that it didn't. And I cried. I ate bad food. I watched terrible television. I slept a lot. I talked about it. I wrote about it. And I cried.
No doubt these feelings will linger a bit more but perhaps for the first time ever, I recognize that they won't last forever. It's ok to have these feelings.
It was the right thing to do.
A text message. Jesus, both of us deserved better.
I guess it was over before then and I told myself that I tried but I could have tried harder.
I called you a couple times. One time you didn't answer, another I could tell you weren't really listening. I thought about writing you a letter but that felt shitty too.
I remember the exact moment I knew it was time.
I had just woken up and I reached for my phone to look for your daily good morning wish. It wasn't there. It hadn't been there in weeks and I hadn't told you I noticed. We'd seen each other, we'd had dinner together, we'd been intimate and still I said nothing about how it felt like you were pulling away.
I knew you were, you knew you were and we broke our promise to each other by not talking about it.
That morning I texted 11 words and hesitated, my finger above the send button. I closed my eyes, still holding the phone and breathed deeply. I took several breaths, tried to listen to my heart and my head at the same time. Everything went back and forth inside and then I heard, clear as day,"It's the right thing to do."
I pushed send.
I have to tell you I can't be with you anymore.
It was early in the morning and I hadn't been able to sleep. I knew you weren't going to get the message until later in the day but I still checked my phone obsessively. I thought about how you would feel when you read the words-if you would already know. I wondered if you'd be angry or sad or surprised or if you even cared.
I had tried talking to you about my feelings, about where I was and what I needed. You weren't right for me and I'd known it for awhile but I didn't want to. I told you everything I could but I could have tried harder. I told you that I wasn't emotionally strong enough to see you, and that I needed more time to fully explain. To me it seemed so very obvious but it wasn't to you and I couldn't figure out how to tell you. I'm so sorry. I didn't want things to end, I didn't want us to end.
I had to break up with you so that I could be with me. I had to put myself, my feelings, my heart...first. And it was awful and it hurt so much and I know I should have tried to do things better but I didn't and it's over and I haven't talked to you in almost a month. I picked up the phone a million times and I thought about that letter again. I even thought about going to the park by your place and waiting for you to come home, just in case you wanted to talk to me.
But I didn't. I chose me instead. And I cried. And I poured myself into my work. And I rekindled old friendships. And I realized some things about myself. That sucked too at the same time that it didn't. And I cried. I ate bad food. I watched terrible television. I slept a lot. I talked about it. I wrote about it. And I cried.
No doubt these feelings will linger a bit more but perhaps for the first time ever, I recognize that they won't last forever. It's ok to have these feelings.
It was the right thing to do.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Here Comes the Sun
"I found the bracelet that they gave everyone the day we saw the Dali Lama. It made me think of you."
I remember taking the second one and instantly feeling a little wrong about it. I mean, they were free, but it was a big love fest in the arena that day. It felt weird to be a little...greedy?
I wore the first one for a good couple of years. I took it off the day I was a bridesmaid in my best friend's wedding. She didn't ask me to but somehow I couldn't justify a braided bracelet with sea foam satin.
It was totally sea foam.
I've been thinking about Buddhism. I very much feel connected to it though I haven't yet sat down and studied it. I know that the message it shares is to see the world with kind eyes and be compassionate to one another. That's definitely something I believe in. I know that Tibetan prayer flags are hung so that the prayers written on them can be carried from the wind into the universe. I know that if you're really quiet with yourself, if you just listen to what your self is telling you-the right choices will be made.
When we got the bracelets, they came with a bead and three strands of yellow, blue and green thread. You were to ask the person next to you to braid it and then tie it on your wrist. It was a sign of friendship with someone you didn't know-or at least that's how I interpreted it. That sunny day I met someone that would end up being very important to me. The second, untied bracelet waited in my pocket.
There are a ton of little places in my apartment that I just...put things. If it's a coffee cup that I think is too pretty to drink out of it become a pen holder. I have cat dishes with random little bits of things you might need in them because they were too 'cute' for cat food. Candle holders with minuscule bits of wax become a place that pony tail holders live. I don't know why and it doesn't really matter. But tonight I happened to look up at the shelf on my desk. I had just filled my water bottle and was about to settle into an evening of some serious Pinteresting when I saw the loose threads of the second bracelet hanging from a cup/now pen holder. I smiled.
As soon as I started braiding, I knew it was time for me to wear it again. This time, I'd be braiding the threads myself, because...I'm going to be a friend to me now. As I entwined the colors together, my thoughts went to the last few weeks and I noticed the braid went a little crooked. Before, when I'd been quiet with myself, it had been perfectly straight. I stopped for a moment and swallowed, closed my eyes. I gave myself permission to feel sad about things. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, started braiding again, finished it. Tying it on my own wrist was a little tricky and I might have to have a friend tighten it up, but it's there, reminding me of kindness and compassion and hope and love and warmth. It's there to remind me to give those things to myself.
That's definitely something I believe in.
I don't think it was greedy to take the second one anymore. I think I was supposed to have it for right now. Finding the bracelet was such a perfectly timed reminder in a world that is desperately imperfect. It came when I needed to remember that kindness and compassion and hope and love and warmth are the things that I love about this life. Why would I spend my time feeling anything else?
I'm not unrealistic of course. I know I'm gonna get pissed sometimes. I'm going to cry and rant about bullshit. I'm going to have moments. But I can try and focus on letting them be only that-moments. I'll breathe or cry or scream through them and come out the other side of it.
Today I feel like I'm going to be ok.
I remember taking the second one and instantly feeling a little wrong about it. I mean, they were free, but it was a big love fest in the arena that day. It felt weird to be a little...greedy?
I wore the first one for a good couple of years. I took it off the day I was a bridesmaid in my best friend's wedding. She didn't ask me to but somehow I couldn't justify a braided bracelet with sea foam satin.
It was totally sea foam.
I've been thinking about Buddhism. I very much feel connected to it though I haven't yet sat down and studied it. I know that the message it shares is to see the world with kind eyes and be compassionate to one another. That's definitely something I believe in. I know that Tibetan prayer flags are hung so that the prayers written on them can be carried from the wind into the universe. I know that if you're really quiet with yourself, if you just listen to what your self is telling you-the right choices will be made.
When we got the bracelets, they came with a bead and three strands of yellow, blue and green thread. You were to ask the person next to you to braid it and then tie it on your wrist. It was a sign of friendship with someone you didn't know-or at least that's how I interpreted it. That sunny day I met someone that would end up being very important to me. The second, untied bracelet waited in my pocket.
There are a ton of little places in my apartment that I just...put things. If it's a coffee cup that I think is too pretty to drink out of it become a pen holder. I have cat dishes with random little bits of things you might need in them because they were too 'cute' for cat food. Candle holders with minuscule bits of wax become a place that pony tail holders live. I don't know why and it doesn't really matter. But tonight I happened to look up at the shelf on my desk. I had just filled my water bottle and was about to settle into an evening of some serious Pinteresting when I saw the loose threads of the second bracelet hanging from a cup/now pen holder. I smiled.
As soon as I started braiding, I knew it was time for me to wear it again. This time, I'd be braiding the threads myself, because...I'm going to be a friend to me now. As I entwined the colors together, my thoughts went to the last few weeks and I noticed the braid went a little crooked. Before, when I'd been quiet with myself, it had been perfectly straight. I stopped for a moment and swallowed, closed my eyes. I gave myself permission to feel sad about things. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, started braiding again, finished it. Tying it on my own wrist was a little tricky and I might have to have a friend tighten it up, but it's there, reminding me of kindness and compassion and hope and love and warmth. It's there to remind me to give those things to myself.
That's definitely something I believe in.
I don't think it was greedy to take the second one anymore. I think I was supposed to have it for right now. Finding the bracelet was such a perfectly timed reminder in a world that is desperately imperfect. It came when I needed to remember that kindness and compassion and hope and love and warmth are the things that I love about this life. Why would I spend my time feeling anything else?
I'm not unrealistic of course. I know I'm gonna get pissed sometimes. I'm going to cry and rant about bullshit. I'm going to have moments. But I can try and focus on letting them be only that-moments. I'll breathe or cry or scream through them and come out the other side of it.
Today I feel like I'm going to be ok.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Breaking Apart
I loved you so much. I loved the way you looked at me and made me feel and your smile and a million other things I can't put into words.
I had never felt loved before. I had never felt so accepted and understood and so....loved.
You had these moments when you were angry and while I knew it was never towards me I felt a little sick inside. It felt like you would say those things about me someday and the idea just crushed me.
I'm not sure exactly when I knew you weren't right for me. I remember waking up one morning after you'd gone to work. The noise of the city a comforting background noise in your empty apartment. I remember a song floating in the outskirts of the dream I'd just had. "Loving you is easy" and "Loving you's the right thing to do..." The first phrase is from a Sarah McLachlan song. The second phrase I kept hearing as a question. And when you listen to Carly Simon sing it, her voice lilts.
I heard both sets of those lyrics in the quiet of your home and I knew I wasn't sure.
I denied it, shook it off but it came back on Thanksgiving. You were so cold that day. All I wanted was for us to be together, to celebrate being thankful for all the good things we had, even if you felt they were too few. But you had other plans. You wanted to work on your music and I didn't mind. I loved that you were so creative. I loved that you were writing a song-I even think I might have inspired it though I never dared to ask.
All day you played. But not before you rolled your eyes at me while cooking breakfast. A meal we'd always enjoyed together suddenly became just food. I had told you I was thankful to have you
I saw you roll your eyes and sigh disgustedly while you scrambled my eggs and I knew I wasn't sure.
I burst into tears and told you how the very bottom of my heart ached with sadness. I tried to explain that I was hurting because it was the first holiday without both of them and that all I wanted was for us to be together and have happiness and you told me to eat my food. You tried to help I think, in your way. You suggested a few things but they always came back to how you were feeling. You went back to your music. I went to the kitchen. While I baked pie, you recorded your song and shushed me when the 'kitchen sounds' were picked up on the mic.
You asked me where the gravy was before you said anything else and I knew I wasn't sure.
Two weeks passed. Enough time for me to miss you. I couldn't wait to hold you, talk to you. I'd been feeling empty since the holiday and wanted so very much to fix it. You came inside and hugged me with your sideways smile and I fell into you.
"I missed you."
"Don't smother me,ok?"
You walked passed me to the kitchen and complained when I didn't have what you wanted and I knew I wasn't sure.
I told you I was feeling sad, insecure and confused. I told you I needed you to be there for me, to try and understand. You told me I was acting weird, that I needed to see a counselor. You couldn't comfort me and told me to eat my food. We watched tv in silence, you on your phone, me sniffling in the opposite couch corner. And then you were tired and we went to bed and it felt different somehow. It hurt my heart and made me exquisitely happy at the same time. But I knew it would be the last time. You slept then and the routine of the morning came and went.
I tried to call. I tried to write. I tried to message and email and call again. You were busy. You were sick. You were not there when I needed you and I knew I was sure.
I had never felt loved before. I had never felt so accepted and understood and so....loved.
You had these moments when you were angry and while I knew it was never towards me I felt a little sick inside. It felt like you would say those things about me someday and the idea just crushed me.
I'm not sure exactly when I knew you weren't right for me. I remember waking up one morning after you'd gone to work. The noise of the city a comforting background noise in your empty apartment. I remember a song floating in the outskirts of the dream I'd just had. "Loving you is easy" and "Loving you's the right thing to do..." The first phrase is from a Sarah McLachlan song. The second phrase I kept hearing as a question. And when you listen to Carly Simon sing it, her voice lilts.
I heard both sets of those lyrics in the quiet of your home and I knew I wasn't sure.
I denied it, shook it off but it came back on Thanksgiving. You were so cold that day. All I wanted was for us to be together, to celebrate being thankful for all the good things we had, even if you felt they were too few. But you had other plans. You wanted to work on your music and I didn't mind. I loved that you were so creative. I loved that you were writing a song-I even think I might have inspired it though I never dared to ask.
All day you played. But not before you rolled your eyes at me while cooking breakfast. A meal we'd always enjoyed together suddenly became just food. I had told you I was thankful to have you
I saw you roll your eyes and sigh disgustedly while you scrambled my eggs and I knew I wasn't sure.
I burst into tears and told you how the very bottom of my heart ached with sadness. I tried to explain that I was hurting because it was the first holiday without both of them and that all I wanted was for us to be together and have happiness and you told me to eat my food. You tried to help I think, in your way. You suggested a few things but they always came back to how you were feeling. You went back to your music. I went to the kitchen. While I baked pie, you recorded your song and shushed me when the 'kitchen sounds' were picked up on the mic.
You asked me where the gravy was before you said anything else and I knew I wasn't sure.
Two weeks passed. Enough time for me to miss you. I couldn't wait to hold you, talk to you. I'd been feeling empty since the holiday and wanted so very much to fix it. You came inside and hugged me with your sideways smile and I fell into you.
"I missed you."
"Don't smother me,ok?"
You walked passed me to the kitchen and complained when I didn't have what you wanted and I knew I wasn't sure.
I told you I was feeling sad, insecure and confused. I told you I needed you to be there for me, to try and understand. You told me I was acting weird, that I needed to see a counselor. You couldn't comfort me and told me to eat my food. We watched tv in silence, you on your phone, me sniffling in the opposite couch corner. And then you were tired and we went to bed and it felt different somehow. It hurt my heart and made me exquisitely happy at the same time. But I knew it would be the last time. You slept then and the routine of the morning came and went.
I tried to call. I tried to write. I tried to message and email and call again. You were busy. You were sick. You were not there when I needed you and I knew I was sure.
Not Yet
Getting over him wasn't supposed to be this hard. I was the one that initiated the end so it should be easier, right?
I don't know what kind of actions to take to help myself. I don't know how I can just allow time to do the work for me. I don't know how to not want to call and hear his voice.
I have to force myself to think of the bad things. I have to make myself remember that he's not good for me.
I've asked friends for advice, for distraction...I've numbed my brain on drugs and Dexter episodes. I've written here and privately to try and rid myself of the overwhelming feelings. I've talked to friends and my dad and myself about this to try and figure out the best plan for me.
I've accepted that time may be the only thing that really works and while I hate the phrase, I recognize that 'this too shall pass'.
And yet, here I am, crying again because all I want to do is hold him and feel him hold me.
I can't call him. He probably hates me. And it might be worse if he didn't.
He has issues. We all do. I had to decide if I could deal with his. I don't think I can. His anger. His miserable happy....But his eyes. His love for me. His heart that tries so hard. No one is perfect after all.
I told him that even if we weren't together, he was always in my heart.
Kinda surprised he's still there I guess.
I don't know what kind of actions to take to help myself. I don't know how I can just allow time to do the work for me. I don't know how to not want to call and hear his voice.
I have to force myself to think of the bad things. I have to make myself remember that he's not good for me.
I've asked friends for advice, for distraction...I've numbed my brain on drugs and Dexter episodes. I've written here and privately to try and rid myself of the overwhelming feelings. I've talked to friends and my dad and myself about this to try and figure out the best plan for me.
I've accepted that time may be the only thing that really works and while I hate the phrase, I recognize that 'this too shall pass'.
And yet, here I am, crying again because all I want to do is hold him and feel him hold me.
I can't call him. He probably hates me. And it might be worse if he didn't.
He has issues. We all do. I had to decide if I could deal with his. I don't think I can. His anger. His miserable happy....But his eyes. His love for me. His heart that tries so hard. No one is perfect after all.
I told him that even if we weren't together, he was always in my heart.
Kinda surprised he's still there I guess.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Don't Look
This is hard.
I thought I was ok. I even started flirting with a guy, letting him flirt with me. And when he suggested we play around at being not just friends for a night, I thought that would be ok too. I thought because there was no way I wanted a relationship that it would be fine.
It wasn't. And not because I developed feelings for him. But because I haven't let go of the feelings I have for the ex yet.
I tried to do something, anything that would help me forget the good times. Didn't work. Fucking life lesson that I really wish I'd already learned.
There was a moment with this guy when he looked at me and it was not his eyes I saw, but the ex's. Suddenly I remembered every tender moment we'd had together and I wanted more than anything to taste his mouth on mine and not....this guy.
I know the ex isn't right for me but I miss him so much. I miss him in my bed, in my arms, in my heart.
I've never experienced anything like that feeling before.
I wish he hadn't looked at me. I would have been fine if he'd just not looked into my eyes.
I can't let go of those moments with the ex that made my heart flutter. I keep remembering the way he looked at me, held me, touched me....I miss it. I have to keep repeating that I know it's for the best for me to not be with him but my heart...it's screaming otherwise.
What do I do? Listen to my heart or my mind that keeps reminding me that I deserve better? I go back and forth and back and forth with wondering if maybe..if just maybe we could...
But why? Ok. Deep breath. Listen up Self, you need a smack of reality.
He's an 'everything in the world sucks' kind of person and you are a 'there are some really great parts in this world' person. Those two kinds of people don't usually mesh well. But we did. Unless we didn't.
Fuck. Round and round and round we go.
If he'd just not looked at me.
I thought I was ok. I even started flirting with a guy, letting him flirt with me. And when he suggested we play around at being not just friends for a night, I thought that would be ok too. I thought because there was no way I wanted a relationship that it would be fine.
It wasn't. And not because I developed feelings for him. But because I haven't let go of the feelings I have for the ex yet.
I tried to do something, anything that would help me forget the good times. Didn't work. Fucking life lesson that I really wish I'd already learned.
There was a moment with this guy when he looked at me and it was not his eyes I saw, but the ex's. Suddenly I remembered every tender moment we'd had together and I wanted more than anything to taste his mouth on mine and not....this guy.
I know the ex isn't right for me but I miss him so much. I miss him in my bed, in my arms, in my heart.
I've never experienced anything like that feeling before.
I wish he hadn't looked at me. I would have been fine if he'd just not looked into my eyes.
I can't let go of those moments with the ex that made my heart flutter. I keep remembering the way he looked at me, held me, touched me....I miss it. I have to keep repeating that I know it's for the best for me to not be with him but my heart...it's screaming otherwise.
What do I do? Listen to my heart or my mind that keeps reminding me that I deserve better? I go back and forth and back and forth with wondering if maybe..if just maybe we could...
But why? Ok. Deep breath. Listen up Self, you need a smack of reality.
He's an 'everything in the world sucks' kind of person and you are a 'there are some really great parts in this world' person. Those two kinds of people don't usually mesh well. But we did. Unless we didn't.
Fuck. Round and round and round we go.
If he'd just not looked at me.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Love
You know what's crazy? Whenever I hear a car pull up outside there's this tiny little part of me that hopes it's him. He doesn't even own a car but I've always wanted that magic movie moment. I wanted to be enough for someone to fight for.
It's the sound of tires on wet concrete. There's something about that sound that just makes me feel all...feely.
I suppose if I were going to shrink myself and analyze it, I could probably trace it back to the sound of my dad coming home. His giant Cadillac roaring up the alley meant that my mom would smile soon. How they loved each other.
So many times I've been wrong. I thought I was in love so many times. I don't feel bad about it. Maybe a little foolish, but I remember advice my grandmother gave me. She told me I loved as much as I could at the time. Love, or what love means to me, has changed for me over the years-as I grow. Definitely don't feel love the same way I did at 15. Wow. That was over 20 years ago....
And I can tell you about all of them.
But I think I want to keep that for me just now. The last one is still too fresh. I miss him still and it's a challenge not to call him.
But today the universe will not allow it and that's a good thing. I skipped a phone payment and can't call out. I don't even know what I would say.
I want him to fight for me.
But he won't.
And it's not him in the car out front. He doesn't even have a car.
Fuck I hate this. The back and forth sad feels with confident new feels and the knowing what I did was right for me and hating that I had to do it and missing his touch and missing....well....the little things I suppose. The little things that looking back, really were small. And when I start to feel all of those little things add up and my heart starts getting all squishy and I think that maybe it's all worth it...I remember.
"Don't smother me."
Pushing me over so he could be comfortable in bed.
"Where's the gravy?" on Thanksgiving when he'd ignored me all day.
"Well if I shit in a box and gave it to you, would you like that?"
Never saying thank you. For anything.
Long angry rants about exes.
Texting at dinner
Telling me he didn't want to kiss me because he'd want to have sex and he wasn't in the mood.
"You need to get over it and get some counseling. She's been dead for how long?"
Telling me to be quiet so his ex wouldn't hear me when she called.
Never doing things I wanted to do because he'd 'already done them with <insert ex girlfriend's name>'.
Complaining about the bus and 'those fucking people' on it, every time he came to visit.
Rude to strangers/waitresses/people on the other end of the phone
He could be so angry. So negative and...not me.
That helps me a little. To remember those things. It helps me forget
"I'm so in love with you."
Wrapping himself around me as we slept.
"Every day is Valentine's Day with you."
"You're beautiful."
Telling me he loved me when he thought I didn't hear.
Long conversations on the phone about nothing
Breakfast for dinner
Telling me he loved to kiss me, touch me, look at me
"I'll always be there for you."
Writing me a poem, a song, a letter.
Introducing me to new places in the city I would never have seen without him
His sweet smile when we saw each other for the first time all week
I suppose it won't always be like this. And in truth, each day gets a little better. But I keep wondering how he is, if he's doing ok. If he's thinking of me. I keep wondering if....
Sigh.
It's the sound of tires on wet concrete. There's something about that sound that just makes me feel all...feely.
I suppose if I were going to shrink myself and analyze it, I could probably trace it back to the sound of my dad coming home. His giant Cadillac roaring up the alley meant that my mom would smile soon. How they loved each other.
So many times I've been wrong. I thought I was in love so many times. I don't feel bad about it. Maybe a little foolish, but I remember advice my grandmother gave me. She told me I loved as much as I could at the time. Love, or what love means to me, has changed for me over the years-as I grow. Definitely don't feel love the same way I did at 15. Wow. That was over 20 years ago....
And I can tell you about all of them.
But I think I want to keep that for me just now. The last one is still too fresh. I miss him still and it's a challenge not to call him.
But today the universe will not allow it and that's a good thing. I skipped a phone payment and can't call out. I don't even know what I would say.
I want him to fight for me.
But he won't.
And it's not him in the car out front. He doesn't even have a car.
Fuck I hate this. The back and forth sad feels with confident new feels and the knowing what I did was right for me and hating that I had to do it and missing his touch and missing....well....the little things I suppose. The little things that looking back, really were small. And when I start to feel all of those little things add up and my heart starts getting all squishy and I think that maybe it's all worth it...I remember.
"Don't smother me."
Pushing me over so he could be comfortable in bed.
"Where's the gravy?" on Thanksgiving when he'd ignored me all day.
"Well if I shit in a box and gave it to you, would you like that?"
Never saying thank you. For anything.
Long angry rants about exes.
Texting at dinner
Telling me he didn't want to kiss me because he'd want to have sex and he wasn't in the mood.
"You need to get over it and get some counseling. She's been dead for how long?"
Telling me to be quiet so his ex wouldn't hear me when she called.
Never doing things I wanted to do because he'd 'already done them with <insert ex girlfriend's name>'.
Complaining about the bus and 'those fucking people' on it, every time he came to visit.
Rude to strangers/waitresses/people on the other end of the phone
He could be so angry. So negative and...not me.
That helps me a little. To remember those things. It helps me forget
"I'm so in love with you."
Wrapping himself around me as we slept.
"Every day is Valentine's Day with you."
"You're beautiful."
Telling me he loved me when he thought I didn't hear.
Long conversations on the phone about nothing
Breakfast for dinner
Telling me he loved to kiss me, touch me, look at me
"I'll always be there for you."
Writing me a poem, a song, a letter.
Introducing me to new places in the city I would never have seen without him
His sweet smile when we saw each other for the first time all week
I suppose it won't always be like this. And in truth, each day gets a little better. But I keep wondering how he is, if he's doing ok. If he's thinking of me. I keep wondering if....
Sigh.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Just a Day
Sometimes, it's just a day. Go to work, run errands, come home and then....what?
This is when I hear myself get all chastise-y. I start saying things to myself like, "Well, you could go back to school." Or "Why don't you go volunteer for something?" and "Seriously, are you EVER going to get your driver's license?" "Watching old reruns of Different Strokes and eating bacon for dinner isn't really making the most of your life you know. Even if it was the Muhammad Ali episode."
Told you I wasn't always nice to myself.
School is expensive. And I don't know what I want to be when I grow up so why go and it's scary and I'm too old and fuck I STILL DON'T KNOW what I want to BE.
Volunteer for what? Being sarcastic to strangers? Do you even have time where would you volunteer you'd get tired and be worthless and dammit I don't KNOW WHAT I WANT to DO.
Drive. DRIVE. Your dad wants you to and you could actually fucking go places on your own and it's scary and new and expensive and I'm embarrassed I don't drive already and shit you DON'T KNOW WHERE you'd GO.
I want to eat really fucking badly and watch reruns of Snapped. I want to sleep as soon as I get up for the day and I want to see how long it takes for me to start to smell.
But I don't. Well, I'm working on the eating thing. Not really. Whatever. Fuck it. MOON PIES
I want to call him and tell him to come over. I want him to tell me that everything will be different and that his love for me is so strong that he'll do anything as long as I do too so we can build the life we'd talked about and live happily ever after because goddammit WHY can't the fairy tales be just a little bit real?
Sometimes it's just a day I guess.
This is when I hear myself get all chastise-y. I start saying things to myself like, "Well, you could go back to school." Or "Why don't you go volunteer for something?" and "Seriously, are you EVER going to get your driver's license?" "Watching old reruns of Different Strokes and eating bacon for dinner isn't really making the most of your life you know. Even if it was the Muhammad Ali episode."
Told you I wasn't always nice to myself.
School is expensive. And I don't know what I want to be when I grow up so why go and it's scary and I'm too old and fuck I STILL DON'T KNOW what I want to BE.
Volunteer for what? Being sarcastic to strangers? Do you even have time where would you volunteer you'd get tired and be worthless and dammit I don't KNOW WHAT I WANT to DO.
Drive. DRIVE. Your dad wants you to and you could actually fucking go places on your own and it's scary and new and expensive and I'm embarrassed I don't drive already and shit you DON'T KNOW WHERE you'd GO.
I want to eat really fucking badly and watch reruns of Snapped. I want to sleep as soon as I get up for the day and I want to see how long it takes for me to start to smell.
But I don't. Well, I'm working on the eating thing. Not really. Whatever. Fuck it. MOON PIES
I want to call him and tell him to come over. I want him to tell me that everything will be different and that his love for me is so strong that he'll do anything as long as I do too so we can build the life we'd talked about and live happily ever after because goddammit WHY can't the fairy tales be just a little bit real?
Sometimes it's just a day I guess.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Today is the Third
First I looked at sexy men. Then I looked at colorful artwork. Then I scrolled through photos of elephants.
I'm addicted to Pinterest dammit.
I've literally been sitting in this really fucking uncomfortable chair for so long that my right shoulder is achy from maneuvering the mouse. There's a friendly little reminder that I'm terribly out of shape. Sore from surfing the internet? Jesus.
I had a really long conversation today with one of my staffers. I enjoyed it. And that's all I'm going to say about that cause that's work and this is the internet. You understand.
I can tell you about this adorable little boy that came in today. He came right up to a dog that was in the store, asked if he could pet. I was immediately impressed-most kids don't know that asking first is a good idea.
After he'd sufficiently ruffled the pup's fur, he turned to me with his four year old hands in his pockets and said in a forty year old voice, "I had a dog once. But he died."
I consoled him appropriately, completely entertained by this old soul in overalls.
"We have a new dog now." Pause. "You know, sometimes, you turn to compost."
I exchanged amused glances with his mother who smiled, a little embarrassed, "We've been talking about that a lot."
"Sometimes though..., " the young philosopher went on, "...sometimes you just die."
"I suppose that's true isn't it?" I agreed, but he had moved on, a squeaky toy diverting his attention.
Later I was asked how things were going with my boyfriend and I had to do that weird awkward correction that you have to do when you break up with someone. I got the Puppy. The Puppy is that look people give you when they suddenly feel like an ass for bringing up a sore subject. You know the one. A slight head tilt to one side, squinty eye and pouty face of sympathy. It's not their fault. How could they know the guy you thought was the one you were going to be with forever turned out not to be? But I'm not going to lie and say everything is fine when I feel like punching you in the throat for just a second, because you said his name. I'll be fine.
I almost called him the other night after I'd finished looking over my 2013 notes...There were a lot of them that mentioned him and it made me fall back in love with those first few months. I almost called to tell him that I just wished him well because I do. I almost called to tell him that I wanted to give things another try and then someone texted me. Thank you my friend because you told me at just the right time, all things I already knew.
I almost called to see how he was because let's be honest; I want to know if he's feeling as shitty about this as I am. I want to know if he's thought about me at all, missed me, wondered how I am. I almost called to tell him that I missed his skin, and smile and the way he called me 'baby'. But I didn't. Because I know it doesn't matter and I'm not saying that to be all sad. I'm saying it because it really doesn't. If it did, I wouldn't have to tell him.
I kind of hope he feels a little shitty. Just a little.
I'm addicted to Pinterest dammit.
I've literally been sitting in this really fucking uncomfortable chair for so long that my right shoulder is achy from maneuvering the mouse. There's a friendly little reminder that I'm terribly out of shape. Sore from surfing the internet? Jesus.
I had a really long conversation today with one of my staffers. I enjoyed it. And that's all I'm going to say about that cause that's work and this is the internet. You understand.
I can tell you about this adorable little boy that came in today. He came right up to a dog that was in the store, asked if he could pet. I was immediately impressed-most kids don't know that asking first is a good idea.
After he'd sufficiently ruffled the pup's fur, he turned to me with his four year old hands in his pockets and said in a forty year old voice, "I had a dog once. But he died."
I consoled him appropriately, completely entertained by this old soul in overalls.
"We have a new dog now." Pause. "You know, sometimes, you turn to compost."
I exchanged amused glances with his mother who smiled, a little embarrassed, "We've been talking about that a lot."
"Sometimes though..., " the young philosopher went on, "...sometimes you just die."
"I suppose that's true isn't it?" I agreed, but he had moved on, a squeaky toy diverting his attention.
Later I was asked how things were going with my boyfriend and I had to do that weird awkward correction that you have to do when you break up with someone. I got the Puppy. The Puppy is that look people give you when they suddenly feel like an ass for bringing up a sore subject. You know the one. A slight head tilt to one side, squinty eye and pouty face of sympathy. It's not their fault. How could they know the guy you thought was the one you were going to be with forever turned out not to be? But I'm not going to lie and say everything is fine when I feel like punching you in the throat for just a second, because you said his name. I'll be fine.
I almost called him the other night after I'd finished looking over my 2013 notes...There were a lot of them that mentioned him and it made me fall back in love with those first few months. I almost called to tell him that I just wished him well because I do. I almost called to tell him that I wanted to give things another try and then someone texted me. Thank you my friend because you told me at just the right time, all things I already knew.
I almost called to see how he was because let's be honest; I want to know if he's feeling as shitty about this as I am. I want to know if he's thought about me at all, missed me, wondered how I am. I almost called to tell him that I missed his skin, and smile and the way he called me 'baby'. But I didn't. Because I know it doesn't matter and I'm not saying that to be all sad. I'm saying it because it really doesn't. If it did, I wouldn't have to tell him.
I kind of hope he feels a little shitty. Just a little.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Tradition
Black eyed peas. Supposedly if you eat them on New Year's, you are rewarded with prosperity and good luck throughout the year. My friend's husband eats a cheese ball. Another friend eats miso soup.
Where did this come from? How did your family decide that eating that particular item was the key to year long happiness?
My family has traditions too and no doubt they would seem strange to someone outside my blood line. My grandmother, for example, always danced with her poultry. Every Thanksgiving, Grandma would hold up the naked turkey by it's wings and spin it around, singing her 'thanks' to it for feeding us. She was a little weird.
My uncle and I went and visited my mom every Sunday for over a year. We stopped by the grocery store down the hill and bought her flowers and an iced latte. Sometimes we got a ridiculous balloon instead or a small plant. My uncle sometimes brought Beanie Babies that he'd found on a goodwill trip. We drove into Ballard without talking much, me silently staring out the window watching the seasons change. Occasionally he'd go into a rage at another driver-it was usually worse on the way back home. After our visit.
Our visit began with the smell of almost death. Old people stumbling through the hallways with stained pants and creaky wheelchairs. The hallway was a horror movie. But she was so happy to see us. Sometimes she was sleeping but usually she was wide awake, waiting for us to come around the curtain to tell her anything that wasn't connected to the hospital bed she lay in.
We usually left at lunch time, the tray's arrival a good time for my uncle to say it was time to go. I never argued. It got harder to leave and even harder to stay towards the end...She'd cry a lot.
My uncle and I would walk back down the hall silently, trying not to see. He'd immediately light up when we got back to the truck. Sometimes I'd indulge-if I didn't want to feel.
The conversation in the car on the way home was often about what we were 'going to do'. We never knew and eventually the conversation die. A lot can be said in a silent car ride.
He'd drop me off and I'd go into my dark apartment and feel sad. The days would turn and I'd pretend to care that I wasn't working for a week. Sunday would come around again and I'd be back in the truck with my uncle, on my way to mom.
This year while preparing a roast chicken for Thanksgiving I thought of grandma. I sprinkled on the spices and shoved butter under it's skin and as I lifted it to move it to the roasting pan, I did a little spin. "Thanks little chicken for being here for me to eat." And then I laughed.
Tradition.
Where did this come from? How did your family decide that eating that particular item was the key to year long happiness?
My family has traditions too and no doubt they would seem strange to someone outside my blood line. My grandmother, for example, always danced with her poultry. Every Thanksgiving, Grandma would hold up the naked turkey by it's wings and spin it around, singing her 'thanks' to it for feeding us. She was a little weird.
My uncle and I went and visited my mom every Sunday for over a year. We stopped by the grocery store down the hill and bought her flowers and an iced latte. Sometimes we got a ridiculous balloon instead or a small plant. My uncle sometimes brought Beanie Babies that he'd found on a goodwill trip. We drove into Ballard without talking much, me silently staring out the window watching the seasons change. Occasionally he'd go into a rage at another driver-it was usually worse on the way back home. After our visit.
Our visit began with the smell of almost death. Old people stumbling through the hallways with stained pants and creaky wheelchairs. The hallway was a horror movie. But she was so happy to see us. Sometimes she was sleeping but usually she was wide awake, waiting for us to come around the curtain to tell her anything that wasn't connected to the hospital bed she lay in.
We usually left at lunch time, the tray's arrival a good time for my uncle to say it was time to go. I never argued. It got harder to leave and even harder to stay towards the end...She'd cry a lot.
My uncle and I would walk back down the hall silently, trying not to see. He'd immediately light up when we got back to the truck. Sometimes I'd indulge-if I didn't want to feel.
The conversation in the car on the way home was often about what we were 'going to do'. We never knew and eventually the conversation die. A lot can be said in a silent car ride.
He'd drop me off and I'd go into my dark apartment and feel sad. The days would turn and I'd pretend to care that I wasn't working for a week. Sunday would come around again and I'd be back in the truck with my uncle, on my way to mom.
This year while preparing a roast chicken for Thanksgiving I thought of grandma. I sprinkled on the spices and shoved butter under it's skin and as I lifted it to move it to the roasting pan, I did a little spin. "Thanks little chicken for being here for me to eat." And then I laughed.
Tradition.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
2013 in a Jar
New Year's Day 2013 I bought a red glass jar. Throughout the year, I would put notes to myself inside. Today on the first day of 2014 I turned the jar over and memories written post-its fell in my lap. Below is a peek into last year-no editing.
January
1-1
You shared a smile with a stranger. You gave a homeless man $2 because his dog looked cold. You realized you idealize people.
1-3
I decided today to make this my year. #1-get my license, #2-get a car, #3-it's all about ME! :)
1-6
Since becoming involved in online dating, I've learned how to say 'no' and 'I'm not interested'. I know I don't have to always be nice. Liberating!
1-10
I have a great best friend that brings me juice when I feel sick. I love you Anne!
1-14
I was complimented, told I was a 'lovely girl' and I didn't analyze the shit out of it. I just accepted it.
1-27
Even though I've been battling some sort of stomach thing, I woke up today feeling really good-positive and ready to take on the day. But first-a few chapters in my favorite chair while the world is still quiet.
February
2-1
I have a phone date tonight with a guy from the internet. His name is Mike, he bowls in a league and he has blond eyebrows. We'll see.
2-9
It's not often that you click so quickly with someone, but I have with James. I have hope that this time it works. But I'm also realistic. He has kind eyes.
2-15
Ran into a customer after a show and she said I'd saved her dog. Things like that always make my day. And the show (Gabriel Iglesias) was AMAZING!
2-16
He (James) wrote me a poem. He told me I was his Valentine and that he couldn't wait to see me again. I'm trying so hard to just let it be as good as it seems it is.
2-18
He told me he put on Star Wars because he knew I liked it and he missed me. James Scott is stealing my heart.
2-24
James Philip Scott
2-26
We're falling in love.
March
3-4
I'm so glad it feels like nothing I've felt before. I feel hope. Promise. Fear, but not doubt. No doubt.
3-5
I rode the bus from his apartment in the city home and it helped me feel so adult. 35 and grown up. He helps me be the person I always wanted to be.
3-9
We made love. I felt the connection I had always hoped for. Not quite ready for the L word, but I know I'll use it.
3-23
A new work opportunity on the horizon. I get to teach!
3-25
He spent time with me. A week of shared dinners and coffee in the morning and bed. He reached for me in his sleep and kissed me goodbye.
3-29
I get to teach classes! First class is April 27th all about dog!
3-30
He said he was ready for me to meet his son. That he thought we could be friends. Felt AMAZING
April
4-2
I haven't looked into his eyes and said it yet. Not with words. I love him
4-3
"He's going to marry me." "I know." Of course she knows. She's my best friend and 'he' is wonderful.
4-8
I love him. I don't care that he's grumpy most times or that he over analyzes everything. I love how he runs through the house on his tiptoes and snuggles my hand under his chin to fall asleep.
4-17
I realized today that I loved him completely. I don't care about all the bullshit-I love him and I'll be here for him. Always.
4-21
I paid my rent and all my bills early.
4-22
He told me he loved me after I kissed him goodbye for work. It surprised both of us and then, it just felt right.
4-25
I haven't felt sad in a really long time.
4-27
I taught my first class today. Just practice but it was so fun! And I did a great job!
4-28
"Your heart is so big."
4-30
"You look at least 24!" (I'm 35) AWESOME
4-30
From James: "I've been thinking about you all day."
May
5-1
I had a customer tell me I had a beautiful heart and that my beauty shone through my smile
5-15
I started telling myself today that I need to love me first. "I love myself." -hard to say
5-16
I don't have to like everybody
5-21
I successfully communicated with my boyfriend today
5-25
I helped someone learn today!
5-31
He called to say he missed me
June
6-5
He made me a box
6-23
He calls me sunflower sweetheart love baby
July
7-8
He loves me. He figured out how he was pushing me away and made changes to keep me.
7-20
I am not responsible for other people's happiness-only my own
7-21
He held my face in his hands and looked into my eyes and said with so much passion..."I'm so in love with you." My breath left.
7-31
It's all right to cry. Crying gets the sadness out
August
8-1
I am empathetic but I'm NOT pathetic. There is nothing wrong with having a big heart
8-4
I don't always have to do what everyone wants me to.
8-21
I am not afraid to take the bus by myself anymore. I can go anywhere.
8-27
I taught a class today and I felt like I really learned something from them. Great cat class!
September
9-15
Even when we don't get to see each other-I know he loves me still. Wonderful.
9-18
My apartment is clean and I got rid of lots of clutter. I like being here. This is my home.
October
10-4
I like my job. Even when it's hard, even when I get criticism. I just need time to absorb it
10-6
He kissed me goodbye, told me he loved me. Maybe someday we'll wake up together every day.
10-7
Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing, but at least I know who I am.
10-10
I have a cat that likes to snuggle
10-13
I work hard and it shows
10-19
My staff respects me. I have wonderful friends. 17 years ago today I helped my unofficial godson join this world. Amazing.
November
December
12-8
I know I'm loved
12-9
I don't know if he loves me the same way I love him
12-29
We're over. It's for the best but it hurts
Undated
I'm reading again. I never really stopped but I'm falling in love with books all over again.
I am loved
My boyfriend likes my body, misses me when we're apart and holds my hand.
Sun through blinds paints warm lines
I love waking to the sounds of summer rain
Funny confident I am strong true kind open beautiful
I have a pair of jeans where my butt looks great!
Dad is on Facebook
Tonight I will see the Super Moon!
I handled a difficult work situation like a fucking champ
RELAX
I love finding a new book!
Dad casually mentioned the name of a girl and I didn't freak out.
IT'S OK
You have a great store, good employees and you smile more than cry.
Everything is something
.....Bring it on 2014.
January
1-1
You shared a smile with a stranger. You gave a homeless man $2 because his dog looked cold. You realized you idealize people.
1-3
I decided today to make this my year. #1-get my license, #2-get a car, #3-it's all about ME! :)
1-6
Since becoming involved in online dating, I've learned how to say 'no' and 'I'm not interested'. I know I don't have to always be nice. Liberating!
1-10
I have a great best friend that brings me juice when I feel sick. I love you Anne!
1-14
I was complimented, told I was a 'lovely girl' and I didn't analyze the shit out of it. I just accepted it.
1-27
Even though I've been battling some sort of stomach thing, I woke up today feeling really good-positive and ready to take on the day. But first-a few chapters in my favorite chair while the world is still quiet.
February
2-1
I have a phone date tonight with a guy from the internet. His name is Mike, he bowls in a league and he has blond eyebrows. We'll see.
2-9
It's not often that you click so quickly with someone, but I have with James. I have hope that this time it works. But I'm also realistic. He has kind eyes.
2-15
Ran into a customer after a show and she said I'd saved her dog. Things like that always make my day. And the show (Gabriel Iglesias) was AMAZING!
2-16
He (James) wrote me a poem. He told me I was his Valentine and that he couldn't wait to see me again. I'm trying so hard to just let it be as good as it seems it is.
2-18
He told me he put on Star Wars because he knew I liked it and he missed me. James Scott is stealing my heart.
2-24
James Philip Scott
2-26
We're falling in love.
March
3-4
I'm so glad it feels like nothing I've felt before. I feel hope. Promise. Fear, but not doubt. No doubt.
3-5
I rode the bus from his apartment in the city home and it helped me feel so adult. 35 and grown up. He helps me be the person I always wanted to be.
3-9
We made love. I felt the connection I had always hoped for. Not quite ready for the L word, but I know I'll use it.
3-23
A new work opportunity on the horizon. I get to teach!
3-25
He spent time with me. A week of shared dinners and coffee in the morning and bed. He reached for me in his sleep and kissed me goodbye.
3-29
I get to teach classes! First class is April 27th all about dog!
3-30
He said he was ready for me to meet his son. That he thought we could be friends. Felt AMAZING
April
4-2
I haven't looked into his eyes and said it yet. Not with words. I love him
4-3
"He's going to marry me." "I know." Of course she knows. She's my best friend and 'he' is wonderful.
4-8
I love him. I don't care that he's grumpy most times or that he over analyzes everything. I love how he runs through the house on his tiptoes and snuggles my hand under his chin to fall asleep.
4-17
I realized today that I loved him completely. I don't care about all the bullshit-I love him and I'll be here for him. Always.
4-21
I paid my rent and all my bills early.
4-22
He told me he loved me after I kissed him goodbye for work. It surprised both of us and then, it just felt right.
4-25
I haven't felt sad in a really long time.
4-27
I taught my first class today. Just practice but it was so fun! And I did a great job!
4-28
"Your heart is so big."
4-30
"You look at least 24!" (I'm 35) AWESOME
4-30
From James: "I've been thinking about you all day."
May
5-1
I had a customer tell me I had a beautiful heart and that my beauty shone through my smile
5-15
I started telling myself today that I need to love me first. "I love myself." -hard to say
5-16
I don't have to like everybody
5-21
I successfully communicated with my boyfriend today
5-25
I helped someone learn today!
5-31
He called to say he missed me
June
6-5
He made me a box
6-23
He calls me sunflower sweetheart love baby
July
7-8
He loves me. He figured out how he was pushing me away and made changes to keep me.
7-20
I am not responsible for other people's happiness-only my own
7-21
He held my face in his hands and looked into my eyes and said with so much passion..."I'm so in love with you." My breath left.
7-31
It's all right to cry. Crying gets the sadness out
August
8-1
I am empathetic but I'm NOT pathetic. There is nothing wrong with having a big heart
8-4
I don't always have to do what everyone wants me to.
8-21
I am not afraid to take the bus by myself anymore. I can go anywhere.
8-27
I taught a class today and I felt like I really learned something from them. Great cat class!
September
9-15
Even when we don't get to see each other-I know he loves me still. Wonderful.
9-18
My apartment is clean and I got rid of lots of clutter. I like being here. This is my home.
October
10-4
I like my job. Even when it's hard, even when I get criticism. I just need time to absorb it
10-6
He kissed me goodbye, told me he loved me. Maybe someday we'll wake up together every day.
10-7
Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing, but at least I know who I am.
10-10
I have a cat that likes to snuggle
10-13
I work hard and it shows
10-19
My staff respects me. I have wonderful friends. 17 years ago today I helped my unofficial godson join this world. Amazing.
November
December
12-8
I know I'm loved
12-9
I don't know if he loves me the same way I love him
12-29
We're over. It's for the best but it hurts
Undated
I'm reading again. I never really stopped but I'm falling in love with books all over again.
I am loved
My boyfriend likes my body, misses me when we're apart and holds my hand.
Sun through blinds paints warm lines
I love waking to the sounds of summer rain
Funny confident I am strong true kind open beautiful
I have a pair of jeans where my butt looks great!
Dad is on Facebook
Tonight I will see the Super Moon!
I handled a difficult work situation like a fucking champ
RELAX
I love finding a new book!
Dad casually mentioned the name of a girl and I didn't freak out.
IT'S OK
You have a great store, good employees and you smile more than cry.
Everything is something
.....Bring it on 2014.
Ticka Ticka
New Year's Eve 2013 about 11:30pm
I was on the couch, stoned from an end of the year bowl when I realized this was going to be the moment I started my novel. I went to the computer and immediately became distracted with Pandora, Facebook and something shining on my desk. I made my way to this blog site and opened a blank blog page. My fingers rested on the keys for a moment and then, without looking at the screen or my fingers, I started humming and ticka ticka-ing on the letters.
Mom used to say she could always tell when I was writing while talking to her on the phone. She'd pause in her conversation and say with amusement in her voice, "Ticka ticka". She'd ask me sometimes what I was writing. Sometimes I told her without prompting. I'd describe the latest plot in a story I'd ripped off from a movie I'd seen within the last six months.
In fairness, I didn't realize I was doing that until just recently. I was watching a documentary on National Lampoon's Vacation and developing a nerd crush on Harold Ramis when it hit me that a lot of my stories were similar to the movies I'd seen. I remember distinctly writing about a family, a brother and sister, on a vacation and having a shitty time... extraordinarily reminiscent of Vacation.
I went through a poetry phase too. Mom paid for my poems to be published in one of those 'send us your poem and we'll send you a book for $44.95 with your poem on the pages' books. Published! Your words IN PRINT! God that was amazing for me. I was so proud of myself. I had no idea that anyone could send anything in and they'd publish it.
I wanted to be discovered. I wanted someone to read my stories or poems or journal and think, 'Wow, I GET her. I bet others would relate and pay good money to read this!'
I think that's when I started writing blogs. I joined a writing group for awhile too-back when MySpace was Facebook. I met a lot of good people through that group. I was introduced to a lot of different kind of styles of writing too. Helped me get to where I am now.
I remember thinking about all the different things I could write about in order to be a 'real writer'. I felt discouraged because I could never think of a whole story. I could do dialogue and I love me a thesaurus but my stories were lame. Or I'd write 15 pages and then lose interest in the characters. I thought about writing about mom, about dad, about my childhood, my teen years, my 20s, my depression, my weight, my struggles and triumphs. And then I thought about...not thinking.
I told myself to just write. To get up and sit in front of the computer and if I got distracted, accept that was ok. Just write SOMETHING.
I don't know if this is a resolution. I'm going to call it a promise to myself. I haven't always been very nice to myself and I think it might be time to give it an honest try. I'm lucky enough to have people in my life to help me remember that I am more than my emotions. I want to like who I am ALL the time.
I have no idea what's going to happen to this project, but I'm going to try. I want to do this for me. (I've since realized that eating pizza and ice cream every Friday night as a 'reward' is not really the kindest thing I could do to myself)
I'm probably going to ramble a lot. I might be stoned when I'm writing, I might be crying. But goddammit, it's going to be real. That means I'm going to swear, I'm going to talk about things that are really fucking uncomfortable for me. I'm worth it.
Ok. Here we go.
I was on the couch, stoned from an end of the year bowl when I realized this was going to be the moment I started my novel. I went to the computer and immediately became distracted with Pandora, Facebook and something shining on my desk. I made my way to this blog site and opened a blank blog page. My fingers rested on the keys for a moment and then, without looking at the screen or my fingers, I started humming and ticka ticka-ing on the letters.
Mom used to say she could always tell when I was writing while talking to her on the phone. She'd pause in her conversation and say with amusement in her voice, "Ticka ticka". She'd ask me sometimes what I was writing. Sometimes I told her without prompting. I'd describe the latest plot in a story I'd ripped off from a movie I'd seen within the last six months.
In fairness, I didn't realize I was doing that until just recently. I was watching a documentary on National Lampoon's Vacation and developing a nerd crush on Harold Ramis when it hit me that a lot of my stories were similar to the movies I'd seen. I remember distinctly writing about a family, a brother and sister, on a vacation and having a shitty time... extraordinarily reminiscent of Vacation.
I went through a poetry phase too. Mom paid for my poems to be published in one of those 'send us your poem and we'll send you a book for $44.95 with your poem on the pages' books. Published! Your words IN PRINT! God that was amazing for me. I was so proud of myself. I had no idea that anyone could send anything in and they'd publish it.
I wanted to be discovered. I wanted someone to read my stories or poems or journal and think, 'Wow, I GET her. I bet others would relate and pay good money to read this!'
I think that's when I started writing blogs. I joined a writing group for awhile too-back when MySpace was Facebook. I met a lot of good people through that group. I was introduced to a lot of different kind of styles of writing too. Helped me get to where I am now.
I remember thinking about all the different things I could write about in order to be a 'real writer'. I felt discouraged because I could never think of a whole story. I could do dialogue and I love me a thesaurus but my stories were lame. Or I'd write 15 pages and then lose interest in the characters. I thought about writing about mom, about dad, about my childhood, my teen years, my 20s, my depression, my weight, my struggles and triumphs. And then I thought about...not thinking.
I told myself to just write. To get up and sit in front of the computer and if I got distracted, accept that was ok. Just write SOMETHING.
I don't know if this is a resolution. I'm going to call it a promise to myself. I haven't always been very nice to myself and I think it might be time to give it an honest try. I'm lucky enough to have people in my life to help me remember that I am more than my emotions. I want to like who I am ALL the time.
I have no idea what's going to happen to this project, but I'm going to try. I want to do this for me. (I've since realized that eating pizza and ice cream every Friday night as a 'reward' is not really the kindest thing I could do to myself)
I'm probably going to ramble a lot. I might be stoned when I'm writing, I might be crying. But goddammit, it's going to be real. That means I'm going to swear, I'm going to talk about things that are really fucking uncomfortable for me. I'm worth it.
Ok. Here we go.
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