History does have a way of repeating itself. Whether it's because we haven't learned the lesson well enough the first (or second or third or fourth or whatever) time around or because the lesson wasn't for us this time, but was instead for the other party, I'm not sure. But it definitely does repeat itself.
One of these days I am going to get it right. One of these days it won't be a case of wrong place wrong time. One of these days it's going to be my turn. Please for the love of God let it be my turn.
Tonight, the other shoe dropped, just as I knew it would for a few weeks now. And it dropped after my poking at it so you could say I brought it on myself. And though I fooled myself into thinking that perhaps I was wrong, perhaps for once my instinct, gut and intuition were all off base I knew deep down they weren't.
I'm angry with myself for letting things go as long as they did without clarity. I know better than that, but I put on my rose colored glasses and pretended it wasn't happening.
It's not the honesty that bothers me. The honesty is a good thing and I truly mean it when I say I want people to be honest with me even if they think the truth will hurt. Being lied to or misled hurts even more. Been there, done that and won't stand for it anymore. The honesty is a definite sign of respect and thoughtfulness which I totally appreciate. What bothers me most is the fact that I know better and yet I let my heart lead the way instead of my head. I let myself get in deeper than I should have without a net even though I knew I would fall. All the signs were there, I just chose not to read them.
Some would argue that following your heart is a good thing and I agree, it can be a good thing. But only when heart and head agree. When heart and head are not in agreement then following your head is a better course of action. Trust me on this, even though it is a lesson I apparently haven't learned yet.
So, it's almost 3 am, and I'm left wondering what to say, how to respond, what's right and healthy for me, what I want and need and can handle. Wondering when it's going to be my turn and for the love of God what do I have to do to finally get it right? Wondering why I even bother any more. For real, what's the fucking point if you're only going to get hurt? Again. And those, my friends, are answers I simply don't have right now.
I feel like a cliche of myself or maybe just a cliche in general. I'm that single friend who no one can figure out why she's still single. The truth is? She can't figure it out either. Everyone, including her, knows she deserves the best and yet the best never seems to appear. Or when it does appear it's unavailable. Everyone sees what a good person she is, including her, and yet still, nothing. Or more accurately no one. It's like there's some sort of curse that she (I) hasn't (haven't) figured out how to remove yet.
I also feel like a child throwing a tantrum because the phrase "It's not fair" keeps running through my head. The rational/adult part of me answers the child with "life isn't fair, get used to it." And the child responds with "I want my mommy!" I think that about sums it up.
Deep down I know I'll be fine. I always am. I've been through enough crap (heartbreak) in my life to know that. I will always come out the other side better and stronger. I'm a fighter. Right now though, it hurts. It's an open wound and it motherfuckinghurts. And a raw, open wound coupled with being angry with yourself makes for an unpleasant mix of emotions. And lots of snotty tears. Which would be why I now sit in bed with my laptop (puffy eyes, a damp shirt sleeve, and a headache) instead of sleeping.
Maybe now though the dreams will stop. The dreams in which it was so obvious that a part of my life was out of control. I would love for the dreams to stop for a while. Even a day or two would be heaven. To be able to lose myself in a deep, dreamless sleep for hours and hours on end would be amazing.
You'll have to excuse me if I disappear for a while. I'm going to need some time to lick my wounds and get my head together. And probably wallow, because let's face it, I'm me and I will need to wallow. And over think. Because who am I kidding, I'm totally going to think this thing to death and then some. But who knows, maybe I won't disappear at all. I don't think I even know that right now. I don't know much of anything right now other than once again my gut, instinct and intuition were right. Once, just once, I would like them to be wrong about something like this. And, um, hey Universe? I asked, believed and received just like you're supposed to. Is there a money back guarantee if what you ordered in fact turns out to be unavailable?
I guess in the end it's true what "they" say, timing is everything. Too bad my time ran out before it even started. I'm not tagging this post with any labels. The folks who know what I'm talking about already know the labels it should have. I'm also not giving it any lyrics. Sometimes, I just have to speak for myself.
And in the end I'm glad I asked the questions. In the end I'm glad I stood up for me. Glad I looked out for myself. I should have done it weeks ago. But at least I did it. Which, for me, is progress. And I suppose if there can be a silver lining, that's it.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Six degrees of...
Recently I've been doing a lot of reminiscing and thinking about times long since passed. It's fun to remember the good things and it's also good to remember the bad and see how far you've come since those days (I have come a long way that's for sure!).
Today at work I had the most random memory. I'm not even sure what prompted it and I can usually trace these things back to something, some sort of trigger, but not today. And this memory is in no way related to anything I've been reminiscing about or pondering recently.
Anyway, today at work I randomly remembered Tyler. Back in 2002 Ms. Ex and I decided it was time to get a dog. We each spent hours and hours and hours combing through the dogs available for adoption on Petfinder. We knew we wanted to rescue rather than buy from a petstore or breeder and we agreed that we wanted a smaller dog rather than a huge dog. I'd never had a dog before. In fact until I was in my early 20s I was scared of dogs. Getting bit in the face by a dog when you're three will do that to you I suppose.
After a ridiculous number of hours combing through all the dogs within like a billion mile radius of where we were living at the time Ms. Ex finally found one she really wanted to see. His name was Tyler and he was at a no kill shelter about two hours from home and a bit over an hour from my parents house. I forget exactly how it all went down, but somehow we arranged a visit to the shelter and a visit to my parents for the same weekend.
Ms. Ex had grown up with a Welsh Terrier and really wanted another terrier type dog and Tyler definitely fit that bill even though he was a mix (a very cute mix, I'll give you that).
When we got to the shelter we were told we'd need to drive down the road to the house of the woman who ran the place because that's where Tyler was being kept. So, we got back in the car and followed her out the driveway only to have her pull over not too far down the road. She got out and walked over into the horse pasture across the road. Confused we sort of sat there until she walked back over to our car and asked us to please help her contain the horses while she went to get some wood to fix the broken fence.
Yes, that's right we stood in a horse pasture for an hour while waiting for her to get the materials and people to help her fix the fence. Because really, that's what we were there for and that's what you ask two complete fucking strangers to do on your way to seeing a dog they want to adopt. But stand there we did, bewildered the entire time.
After that detour we drove to her house where she was keeping god knows how many dogs in the garage. She led us around the back to her fenced in yard and asked us to wait while she got Tyler. A couple minutes later the door opened and out shot this small white ball of fur who proceeded to race around the yard. I bent down to try to pet him and he promptly leapt up and bit me square on the chin. He didn't break the skin thankfully.
We visited with him for a few minutes, but I'd already made up my mind this was definitely NOT the dog for me. He was far too hyper. And besides that he BIT me. I think the woman knew we wouldn't be taking him and she asked us to come see one other dog before we left. We agreed to humor her so back in our cars we got to drive back to the shelter to see this other dog. The one she thought would be far more suited to us.
When we got there she walked us past the goats and the pot belly pigs to the outdoor runs next to the cat house (literally a brick house which was home to all the stray cats). As we walked up we saw this small, mostly black dog climbing the fencing of her run. This was Joanie. This was the dog that the woman wanted us to see. I was already convinced this visit wasn't going to go well either. The woman leashed her up and led her out of the run and we all went to sit on the front steps of the cat house. Joanie sealed her fate then by sitting next to me and leaning her entire body gently against me before licking my ear.
Joanie had been rescued from a high kill shelter in West Virginia. She wasn't scheduled to be on the transport that brought her up to New York, but the volunteer who was pulling dogs managed to squeeze her in. She only had a few hours left to live and they just couldn't leave her there.
It was weeks before we were able to finally go get Joanie and bring her home with us. I won't go into those details, but this woman did not make it easy on us. At all. I won't speak ill of the dead, but I wonder if there might have been some hoarding tendencies there.
This is one of my favorite pictures of Joanie. She so loved her monkey toy.
Joanie was my first dog and as much as I wanted a dog it was a difficult adjustment for me. When she first came to live with us she loved to chew on my arms. I didn't particularly enjoy that. She wasn't trained in any way shape or form. She was head strong and stubborn (very much like both Ms. Ex and I in that regard). But we figured it out eventually and even though she ate my Aurora Shoes I still loved her.
I'm not sure when it was or how long it might have been after we adopted Joanie that I found out who had adopted Tyler, the dog who bit my chin upon first meeting me. Normally this wouldn't make for any story what so ever. Dogs get adopted into loving families all the time. Maybe it's your neighbor or the family two streets over or your coworker. Usually it's no one special.
Tyler though, he got a special family. He was adopted by Matchbox Twenty front man Rob Thomas and his wife Marisol. And this was the random memory I had today at work, Tyler biting me on the chin and how he then went on to live with a rock star. I spent a few minutes on Google during my lunch and discovered that Tyler went to the Rainbow Bridge last November. He'd been diagnosed with cancer in the summer and lived just as long as the doctors predicted he would.
I'm sad for the Thomas's and their loss, but I'm happy that Tyler got to have such an amazing seven years with them. Even if he did bite me on the chin. Every dog deserves to be adored by their humans.
Joanie lives with Ms. Ex now. I do miss her at times and wonder how she's doing (she has hip dysplasia and had surgeries on both knees after tearing the cruciate ligament in each of them), but my Maggie has my heart and soul (why yes I AM a crazy dog lady, how nice of you to notice). And though you might think splitting up the animals (who were our children) would have been one of the most difficult things that happened during the great breakup of 2006 through 2007 you'd be wrong. I was relieved when Ms. Ex said she wanted Joanie. I knew they were right for each other and that Maggie needed my care.
So, that's my story. And that's how I can connect myself to Rob Thomas in one move while playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. I can also connect myself in one move to John Meyer and Ani DiFranco, but those are through humans, not dogs.
No song tonight. Instead, if you have a dog (or a cat or bird or iguana or whatever) go give it some love and affection. Poor Maggie and the boys are about to get accosted. I hope they know what they're in for!
Today at work I had the most random memory. I'm not even sure what prompted it and I can usually trace these things back to something, some sort of trigger, but not today. And this memory is in no way related to anything I've been reminiscing about or pondering recently.
Anyway, today at work I randomly remembered Tyler. Back in 2002 Ms. Ex and I decided it was time to get a dog. We each spent hours and hours and hours combing through the dogs available for adoption on Petfinder. We knew we wanted to rescue rather than buy from a petstore or breeder and we agreed that we wanted a smaller dog rather than a huge dog. I'd never had a dog before. In fact until I was in my early 20s I was scared of dogs. Getting bit in the face by a dog when you're three will do that to you I suppose.
After a ridiculous number of hours combing through all the dogs within like a billion mile radius of where we were living at the time Ms. Ex finally found one she really wanted to see. His name was Tyler and he was at a no kill shelter about two hours from home and a bit over an hour from my parents house. I forget exactly how it all went down, but somehow we arranged a visit to the shelter and a visit to my parents for the same weekend.
Ms. Ex had grown up with a Welsh Terrier and really wanted another terrier type dog and Tyler definitely fit that bill even though he was a mix (a very cute mix, I'll give you that).
When we got to the shelter we were told we'd need to drive down the road to the house of the woman who ran the place because that's where Tyler was being kept. So, we got back in the car and followed her out the driveway only to have her pull over not too far down the road. She got out and walked over into the horse pasture across the road. Confused we sort of sat there until she walked back over to our car and asked us to please help her contain the horses while she went to get some wood to fix the broken fence.
Yes, that's right we stood in a horse pasture for an hour while waiting for her to get the materials and people to help her fix the fence. Because really, that's what we were there for and that's what you ask two complete fucking strangers to do on your way to seeing a dog they want to adopt. But stand there we did, bewildered the entire time.
After that detour we drove to her house where she was keeping god knows how many dogs in the garage. She led us around the back to her fenced in yard and asked us to wait while she got Tyler. A couple minutes later the door opened and out shot this small white ball of fur who proceeded to race around the yard. I bent down to try to pet him and he promptly leapt up and bit me square on the chin. He didn't break the skin thankfully.
We visited with him for a few minutes, but I'd already made up my mind this was definitely NOT the dog for me. He was far too hyper. And besides that he BIT me. I think the woman knew we wouldn't be taking him and she asked us to come see one other dog before we left. We agreed to humor her so back in our cars we got to drive back to the shelter to see this other dog. The one she thought would be far more suited to us.
When we got there she walked us past the goats and the pot belly pigs to the outdoor runs next to the cat house (literally a brick house which was home to all the stray cats). As we walked up we saw this small, mostly black dog climbing the fencing of her run. This was Joanie. This was the dog that the woman wanted us to see. I was already convinced this visit wasn't going to go well either. The woman leashed her up and led her out of the run and we all went to sit on the front steps of the cat house. Joanie sealed her fate then by sitting next to me and leaning her entire body gently against me before licking my ear.
Joanie had been rescued from a high kill shelter in West Virginia. She wasn't scheduled to be on the transport that brought her up to New York, but the volunteer who was pulling dogs managed to squeeze her in. She only had a few hours left to live and they just couldn't leave her there.
It was weeks before we were able to finally go get Joanie and bring her home with us. I won't go into those details, but this woman did not make it easy on us. At all. I won't speak ill of the dead, but I wonder if there might have been some hoarding tendencies there.
This is one of my favorite pictures of Joanie. She so loved her monkey toy.
Joanie was my first dog and as much as I wanted a dog it was a difficult adjustment for me. When she first came to live with us she loved to chew on my arms. I didn't particularly enjoy that. She wasn't trained in any way shape or form. She was head strong and stubborn (very much like both Ms. Ex and I in that regard). But we figured it out eventually and even though she ate my Aurora Shoes I still loved her.
I'm not sure when it was or how long it might have been after we adopted Joanie that I found out who had adopted Tyler, the dog who bit my chin upon first meeting me. Normally this wouldn't make for any story what so ever. Dogs get adopted into loving families all the time. Maybe it's your neighbor or the family two streets over or your coworker. Usually it's no one special.
Tyler though, he got a special family. He was adopted by Matchbox Twenty front man Rob Thomas and his wife Marisol. And this was the random memory I had today at work, Tyler biting me on the chin and how he then went on to live with a rock star. I spent a few minutes on Google during my lunch and discovered that Tyler went to the Rainbow Bridge last November. He'd been diagnosed with cancer in the summer and lived just as long as the doctors predicted he would.
I'm sad for the Thomas's and their loss, but I'm happy that Tyler got to have such an amazing seven years with them. Even if he did bite me on the chin. Every dog deserves to be adored by their humans.
Joanie lives with Ms. Ex now. I do miss her at times and wonder how she's doing (she has hip dysplasia and had surgeries on both knees after tearing the cruciate ligament in each of them), but my Maggie has my heart and soul (why yes I AM a crazy dog lady, how nice of you to notice). And though you might think splitting up the animals (who were our children) would have been one of the most difficult things that happened during the great breakup of 2006 through 2007 you'd be wrong. I was relieved when Ms. Ex said she wanted Joanie. I knew they were right for each other and that Maggie needed my care.
So, that's my story. And that's how I can connect myself to Rob Thomas in one move while playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. I can also connect myself in one move to John Meyer and Ani DiFranco, but those are through humans, not dogs.
No song tonight. Instead, if you have a dog (or a cat or bird or iguana or whatever) go give it some love and affection. Poor Maggie and the boys are about to get accosted. I hope they know what they're in for!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Touched by....
So, that last blog post kind of threw me for a loop. It needed to be written and I'm still very glad I wrote it. But it left me unsettled and not feeling like myself for days after. When you dredge up things from your past which you've locked away and moved on from (in whatever manner and to whatever degree of success that was possible for you) it's sometimes hard to put them back in their nice locked cabinets in your brain until you've mulled them over for a while. Perhaps a long while. But, rest assured, they are locked up again. As they should be. The past is in the past and it shall stay that way.
My parents came to visit last weekend. That could be a whole other series of blog posts in and of itself, but it was good to see them. It's always good to see them. It was also tiring and I was already tired from all the over thinking I did after writing my last post so that made for a long weekend.
But, I ended the weekend by seeing Ingrid Michaelson in concert for a fifth time this year. It was the opening night of this tour so the set list was a little different than the previous four shows which was a nice change of pace. Although I did LOVE the other shows this year so I'd have been content with that set list too.
It's funny, I get this weird, inexplicable moment of sadness during a concert. Happens nearly every time I see live music, no matter the artist and no matter the venue. And it's not necessarily induced by a sad or maudlin song. It's just a wave of sadness sweeping over me for no identifiable reason. Very odd. This time it wasn't as severe as it has been at other shows which was great. But it was still there for that fleeting moment and as inexplicable as always.
Also great? Ingrid doing her a cappella cover of R.E.M.'s Nightswimming which is, by far, my favorite R.E.M. song. I have been waiting (hoping!) for her to do this in concert and was finally rewarded. It was amazing. Wait, see for yourself (the video is from her show a few days later, can't find a video from the show I was at):
Anyhow, during this song it started. Not the sad which I spoke of above, although there were tears in my eyes because I was so moved and so very happy to finally see this live. No, instead I could feel the music reaching out and wrapping itself around me, embracing me. It was like being completely enveloped in strong and loving arms. A feeling of love and protection and happiness, of everything being right in the world. I could feel the pressure of it surrounding me as I sat blissfully entranced.
It may sound crazy but it felt as though the Universe was hugging me, reassuring me I was right where I was supposed to be in my life. Wrapping it's warm arms around me and assuring me I was, indeed, on the right path. I think this is the sort of feeling that those who believe in God must feel when they say they've been touched by God. I can totally see how they'd think that even though I do not believe in God myself.
I needed that embrace from the Universe. Because sometimes (okay, maybe more than sometimes) I doubt myself. I doubt that I'm doing the right thing(s). And this not so subtle reassurance was very well timed indeed. It helped reinforce my belief that the Universe does indeed provide, we just have to continue to believe it will. And I do believe.
Words, though I adore them, can be so limiting sometimes. I cannot fully describe this feeling using only words. It's like the best hug of your life multiplied by joy and love and peace. Suffice it to say that I hope each and every one of you experiences this feeling at some point in your life. Because it is profound. Funny it should happen to me at a concert in a venue I'd never been to before instead of, oh, I don't know while sitting and contemplating life in Bar Harbor for instance. It's just another example of how amazing life can be. And how full of surprises.
And the night after the hug from the Universe? Well, that next night was awesome in it's own special way. I'm sitting here smiling just thinking about it. Nothing momentous happened that night. There were no earth shattering, mind blowing events. But it was great none the less. There was no place in the world I would rather have been than standing in Stalker's kitchen talking and watching her cook (and trying to stay out of her way).
So, thanks again for dinner Stalker, it was delicious and the company was fantastic as always. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, both inside and out. Which is why (besides the fact that I have never in my life known what to do with my hands) I tend to keep them firmly jammed in my pockets or my arms crossed when we're together. I want to make sure you have the time and the space you need to figure your stuff out and I don't want to fuck it up no matter how smitten I might be (and yes, I am indeed quite smitten) (also? Smitten is an awesome word which totally stops looking like a real word the more times you read it) (also also? I am a bit over tired and rambly now) (but that doesn't change the sentiment, still smitten!). So, while you were there washing dishes or whatever I was leaning against the refrigerator smiling a goofy smile and restraining myself from hugging you from behind.
Also? I'm horrible at making the first move. Just sayin', you know, to get it on record (for the entire world to see. Go me!). (Huh, apparently I get honest and over share when I get tired. Good to know.) Besides, the ball is still in your court and it can stay there as long as you need. All I ask, all I ever ask really, is that you're honest and open with me and I, in return, will be the same with you.
The song for this post is hard for me to choose. I mean obviously I could go with Nightswimming. But there are a couple others which stand out as equally appropriate and I'm going with one of those instead. For quite some time leading up to my trip to Bar Harbor I was rather addicted to this song. It might have been played on repeat for my entire commute to and from work some days. And of course it was one of my selections for the Bar Harbor 2010 playlist. So, I give you, the beginning of Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson (of course).
I don't believe in anything but myself
I don't believe in anything but myself
But then you opened up a door, you opened up a door
Now I start to believe in something else
But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?
And so it goes this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won.
And so it goes this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won.
But it can be won, but it can be won...
My parents came to visit last weekend. That could be a whole other series of blog posts in and of itself, but it was good to see them. It's always good to see them. It was also tiring and I was already tired from all the over thinking I did after writing my last post so that made for a long weekend.
But, I ended the weekend by seeing Ingrid Michaelson in concert for a fifth time this year. It was the opening night of this tour so the set list was a little different than the previous four shows which was a nice change of pace. Although I did LOVE the other shows this year so I'd have been content with that set list too.
It's funny, I get this weird, inexplicable moment of sadness during a concert. Happens nearly every time I see live music, no matter the artist and no matter the venue. And it's not necessarily induced by a sad or maudlin song. It's just a wave of sadness sweeping over me for no identifiable reason. Very odd. This time it wasn't as severe as it has been at other shows which was great. But it was still there for that fleeting moment and as inexplicable as always.
Also great? Ingrid doing her a cappella cover of R.E.M.'s Nightswimming which is, by far, my favorite R.E.M. song. I have been waiting (hoping!) for her to do this in concert and was finally rewarded. It was amazing. Wait, see for yourself (the video is from her show a few days later, can't find a video from the show I was at):
Anyhow, during this song it started. Not the sad which I spoke of above, although there were tears in my eyes because I was so moved and so very happy to finally see this live. No, instead I could feel the music reaching out and wrapping itself around me, embracing me. It was like being completely enveloped in strong and loving arms. A feeling of love and protection and happiness, of everything being right in the world. I could feel the pressure of it surrounding me as I sat blissfully entranced.
It may sound crazy but it felt as though the Universe was hugging me, reassuring me I was right where I was supposed to be in my life. Wrapping it's warm arms around me and assuring me I was, indeed, on the right path. I think this is the sort of feeling that those who believe in God must feel when they say they've been touched by God. I can totally see how they'd think that even though I do not believe in God myself.
I needed that embrace from the Universe. Because sometimes (okay, maybe more than sometimes) I doubt myself. I doubt that I'm doing the right thing(s). And this not so subtle reassurance was very well timed indeed. It helped reinforce my belief that the Universe does indeed provide, we just have to continue to believe it will. And I do believe.
Words, though I adore them, can be so limiting sometimes. I cannot fully describe this feeling using only words. It's like the best hug of your life multiplied by joy and love and peace. Suffice it to say that I hope each and every one of you experiences this feeling at some point in your life. Because it is profound. Funny it should happen to me at a concert in a venue I'd never been to before instead of, oh, I don't know while sitting and contemplating life in Bar Harbor for instance. It's just another example of how amazing life can be. And how full of surprises.
And the night after the hug from the Universe? Well, that next night was awesome in it's own special way. I'm sitting here smiling just thinking about it. Nothing momentous happened that night. There were no earth shattering, mind blowing events. But it was great none the less. There was no place in the world I would rather have been than standing in Stalker's kitchen talking and watching her cook (and trying to stay out of her way).
So, thanks again for dinner Stalker, it was delicious and the company was fantastic as always. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, both inside and out. Which is why (besides the fact that I have never in my life known what to do with my hands) I tend to keep them firmly jammed in my pockets or my arms crossed when we're together. I want to make sure you have the time and the space you need to figure your stuff out and I don't want to fuck it up no matter how smitten I might be (and yes, I am indeed quite smitten) (also? Smitten is an awesome word which totally stops looking like a real word the more times you read it) (also also? I am a bit over tired and rambly now) (but that doesn't change the sentiment, still smitten!). So, while you were there washing dishes or whatever I was leaning against the refrigerator smiling a goofy smile and restraining myself from hugging you from behind.
Also? I'm horrible at making the first move. Just sayin', you know, to get it on record (for the entire world to see. Go me!). (Huh, apparently I get honest and over share when I get tired. Good to know.) Besides, the ball is still in your court and it can stay there as long as you need. All I ask, all I ever ask really, is that you're honest and open with me and I, in return, will be the same with you.
The song for this post is hard for me to choose. I mean obviously I could go with Nightswimming. But there are a couple others which stand out as equally appropriate and I'm going with one of those instead. For quite some time leading up to my trip to Bar Harbor I was rather addicted to this song. It might have been played on repeat for my entire commute to and from work some days. And of course it was one of my selections for the Bar Harbor 2010 playlist. So, I give you, the beginning of Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson (of course).
I don't believe in anything but myself
I don't believe in anything but myself
But then you opened up a door, you opened up a door
Now I start to believe in something else
But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?
And so it goes this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won.
And so it goes this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won.
But it can be won, but it can be won...
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
It gets better
I've been thinking about this post for days now. What follows later in the post may surprise those of you who actually know me. The point of this post though is, as the title says, that it gets better. Let me repeat that, it gets better. And again, it gets better.
The recent string of suicides by gay teens due to bullying is appalling to me. Tyler Clementi (18), Billy Lucas (15), Asher Brown (13), Justin Aaberg (15) and Seth Walsh (13) didn't have to die. They'd barely even begun to live. I can't believe that our society hasn't put an end to bullying and harassment yet. How can we call ourselves civilized when we still allow this to happen??? It saddens me that these young men thought their only option was to end their lives.
After watching the videos below I knew I needed to share my story too. This is the most difficult and one of the most honest things I've ever written.
When I was a teen I was just about as far from self aware as you could get. In high school I knew I was different, but I never really knew why. Looking back now, I can remember sitting on my bed when I was 16 or 17 and thinking "I don't want to be gay, I just want to be normal." At the time though, this thought seemed completely out of the blue and just plain crazy talk and so I pushed it away and carried on with high school life. I mean, it was preposterous to think that I could be gay! No way! It was a couple more years before I started opening the closet door to myself. And slowly at that.
My freshman year in college was eye opening in so many ways. I left my barely a dot on the map hometown to go to a tiny woman's college where my freshman class was five times the size of my high school class (there were 27, yes twenty-seven, of us in my high school class). I was finally exposed to, among other things, different cultures, different socioeconomic upbringings, different philosophies, different religions, and of course different sexualities.
My coming out story is far from sensational. I am one of the lucky ones and for this I am grateful every day. My family has always been incredibly supportive of me. As have my friends. I was never bullied in school for being different or for being gay (not to say I wasn't teased because I certainly was and I don't think anyone can escape some form of teasing in school, but teasing and bullying are very different in my mind). I've never been scandalously outed. I've lived a very dull gay life, and again, I am grateful for that. I know I am one of the lucky ones.
Those of you who know me in real life know that while I am snarky and cynical I am also a pretty positive person. I can find the bright side in almost anything. I'm a firm believer in every day being a fresh start. My glass is usually more than half full. What you don't know about me is that I didn't always think it would get better (but it does get better, I promise).
I started coming out to myself when I fell madly in love with an upperclasswoman who lived next door to me in the dorm the second semester of my freshman year (we'll call her T). At first I didn't understand my fascination with her. She transfixed me. I was enthralled by her. I'd never before in my short life been so deeply under someone's spell. One night we were in her dorm room and T pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. A very deep, very meaningful kiss. And that was when the light went off for me.
It would be untrue for me to say that moment was when I completely understood myself, because I didn't and I wouldn't for many years yet. But it was a very defining moment in my life, perhaps the defining moment. A point of no return if you will.
T and I embarked on what would turn into about two years of a ridiculously complicated, codependent (on my part) and somewhat emotionally abusive (on her part) relationship. I call it a relationship, who the hell knows what she might call it. I was probably more of a nuisance to her than anything else. She was, after all, straight. And she had a boyfriend. But she still slept with me.
During these two years of my life is when I first started to think about suicide. Yes, that's right I've thought, very seriously, about suicide. I've never attempted it, but I have, most definitely, thought about it many (many) times. Because I didn't think it would get better. Because I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Because I didn't feel like anyone could possibly understand me or what I was going through. Everything was so dark and heavy and my not existing anymore just seemed like the easiest way to deal with it all. You can't hurt if you don't exist right?
As I said earlier, I'm one of the lucky ones. I've been so incredibly lucky to have such wonderful support my entire life and yet I've still contemplated ending it on various occasions. What must people who haven't had this support feel like? How do the kids (and adults for that matter) who are harassed and bullied feel? I can't even imagine. It sends chills down my spine.
In some respects I think those of us who are positive in our outlooks are more at risk for suicide (personal opinion only here, not basing this on statistics or facts, just opinion). We're the ones you'd never suspect are weighing which option for offing ourselves is best as we give you our bright smiles (which don't always reach our eyes). Should I slit my wrists or should I try to drown myself or should I jump out a window, etc., etc., etc... Smile, smile, smile as brightly as possible!
We roll these thoughts over and over in our head until they seem so abstractly concrete they confuse even us as we seek clarity in our muddy muddled thoughts. College isn't the only time I've thought about saying the hell with it all and ending it. During the 18 months it took for Ms. Ex and I to end our relationship I'll admit the thought crossed my mind a time or two. And then the thought came creeping in again when I hit the absolute rock bottom lowest point in my life six months after we were finally through. Once you let the kernel of "it would just be easier for everyone if I wasn't around anymore" into your head it's really hard to let go of it.
You keep suicide in the back of your mind as an option in case it gets worse. And you never know what might make it actually BECOME worse. It's never the big stuff which makes it worse, it's the little stuff like the grocery store being out of your favorite potato chips or not being able to rent the movie you were looking forward to or someone not saying "bless you" when you sneeze at the office. You're trapped inside that incredibly dark tunnel without a light to guide you out. The walls press in on you and though your hands might be stretched out searching for something, anything, to grab hold of, you can't find it. You're there alone in the heavy darkness spinning in circles until it just becomes too much and you crumple to a heap on the ground. There isn't anyone there standing beside you lighting a match or a lighter or holding a candle or a flashlight or the iPhone flashlight app and taking your hand to lead you out.
That's what I think about when I hear about the Tyler Clementis and the Asher Browns and the Seth Walshes. I think about that feeling of hopelessness, helplessness and despair because I've been there. I've been crumpled in a heap on the floor of that dark tunnel unable to see anyway out.
The only difference between us is that I made a deal with myself that I have to sleep on it before I do anything. And if it's not a little bit better in the morning then I can think about it again. It's always been better in the morning. Maybe it's not much better in the morning, but it's always a little better and it's been enough. And it gets better every day. The point is it does get better. It always gets better.
I'm glad I'm still here to experience my life. I have known so much joy. I've gotten to experience so many wonderful things. And I know I have a lifetime's worth of amazing things still to come. I can't wait to live them all. Life IS good no matter how corny that might sound. And for those of you who know me and might be worried, don't. I love my life and I'm in no way, shape or form even standing in that dark tunnel. And if ever I am there again at any point in my life I know now that it gets better. And I know I can reach out and find a hand in the dark to help guide me out.
The tears are rolling down my cheeks as I write this. It's cathartic and yet dredges up all these dark and tangled emotions from my past. Things I've chosen not to think about for years and years have floated to the surface and they still hurt, they still take me back to those dark places in my life, to the inside of that dark tunnel where I felt helpless, hopeless and alone. But even though it still hurts, even though I know these things will be with me forever, I also know that it gets better. And I also know that I had to go through them to become the person I am today. They made me stronger and for that I am grateful.
If you'd sat me down when I was 15 and told me what my life would be like when I was 35 I would never have believed you. No way in hell could it be possible that I'd be a 35 year old lesbian with two cats and a dog living alone in a house I own in Connecticut (of all places!!!) who sits at a desk all day at work dealing with data. None of this was on my radar at all when I was 15 (except maybe the cats, maybe). And I love every last bit of my life now. It's rich and full and all mine to live.
If you're contemplating suicide or just feel isolated and alone there are resources available to you. All it takes is being a little brave and reaching out. There are people there who want nothing more than to help you. There are people there to take your hand in that dark tunnel and walk you toward the light. The Trevor Project is a place to start.
You have too much to look forward to in life to end it. Don't you want to find out what's next? Don't you want to go to college? Or fall madly in love? Or travel around the world? Or find a cure for cancer or AIDS or some other debilitating disease? Or maybe you want to write a novel or a hit song or learn to fly a plane or how to build an ark or whatever it is that you want to do?
There are so many people waiting to meet you, waiting to see your next painting, read your next poem, listen to you sing, watch you dance or score a goal or a touchdown or simply sit down with you and laugh over coffee or tea or hot chocolate. We're there cheering you on as you strive to reach the goals you set for yourself. We are out there. And we love you for who you are. There's only one you and that is an incredibly special thing. Be the best you that you can be because nobody else can be you. Hold you head high, be proud of who you are, be strong. And know you are not alone.
It gets better, trust me I've been there. I know. It gets better.
The recent string of suicides by gay teens due to bullying is appalling to me. Tyler Clementi (18), Billy Lucas (15), Asher Brown (13), Justin Aaberg (15) and Seth Walsh (13) didn't have to die. They'd barely even begun to live. I can't believe that our society hasn't put an end to bullying and harassment yet. How can we call ourselves civilized when we still allow this to happen??? It saddens me that these young men thought their only option was to end their lives.
After watching the videos below I knew I needed to share my story too. This is the most difficult and one of the most honest things I've ever written.
When I was a teen I was just about as far from self aware as you could get. In high school I knew I was different, but I never really knew why. Looking back now, I can remember sitting on my bed when I was 16 or 17 and thinking "I don't want to be gay, I just want to be normal." At the time though, this thought seemed completely out of the blue and just plain crazy talk and so I pushed it away and carried on with high school life. I mean, it was preposterous to think that I could be gay! No way! It was a couple more years before I started opening the closet door to myself. And slowly at that.
My freshman year in college was eye opening in so many ways. I left my barely a dot on the map hometown to go to a tiny woman's college where my freshman class was five times the size of my high school class (there were 27, yes twenty-seven, of us in my high school class). I was finally exposed to, among other things, different cultures, different socioeconomic upbringings, different philosophies, different religions, and of course different sexualities.
My coming out story is far from sensational. I am one of the lucky ones and for this I am grateful every day. My family has always been incredibly supportive of me. As have my friends. I was never bullied in school for being different or for being gay (not to say I wasn't teased because I certainly was and I don't think anyone can escape some form of teasing in school, but teasing and bullying are very different in my mind). I've never been scandalously outed. I've lived a very dull gay life, and again, I am grateful for that. I know I am one of the lucky ones.
Those of you who know me in real life know that while I am snarky and cynical I am also a pretty positive person. I can find the bright side in almost anything. I'm a firm believer in every day being a fresh start. My glass is usually more than half full. What you don't know about me is that I didn't always think it would get better (but it does get better, I promise).
I started coming out to myself when I fell madly in love with an upperclasswoman who lived next door to me in the dorm the second semester of my freshman year (we'll call her T). At first I didn't understand my fascination with her. She transfixed me. I was enthralled by her. I'd never before in my short life been so deeply under someone's spell. One night we were in her dorm room and T pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. A very deep, very meaningful kiss. And that was when the light went off for me.
It would be untrue for me to say that moment was when I completely understood myself, because I didn't and I wouldn't for many years yet. But it was a very defining moment in my life, perhaps the defining moment. A point of no return if you will.
T and I embarked on what would turn into about two years of a ridiculously complicated, codependent (on my part) and somewhat emotionally abusive (on her part) relationship. I call it a relationship, who the hell knows what she might call it. I was probably more of a nuisance to her than anything else. She was, after all, straight. And she had a boyfriend. But she still slept with me.
During these two years of my life is when I first started to think about suicide. Yes, that's right I've thought, very seriously, about suicide. I've never attempted it, but I have, most definitely, thought about it many (many) times. Because I didn't think it would get better. Because I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Because I didn't feel like anyone could possibly understand me or what I was going through. Everything was so dark and heavy and my not existing anymore just seemed like the easiest way to deal with it all. You can't hurt if you don't exist right?
As I said earlier, I'm one of the lucky ones. I've been so incredibly lucky to have such wonderful support my entire life and yet I've still contemplated ending it on various occasions. What must people who haven't had this support feel like? How do the kids (and adults for that matter) who are harassed and bullied feel? I can't even imagine. It sends chills down my spine.
In some respects I think those of us who are positive in our outlooks are more at risk for suicide (personal opinion only here, not basing this on statistics or facts, just opinion). We're the ones you'd never suspect are weighing which option for offing ourselves is best as we give you our bright smiles (which don't always reach our eyes). Should I slit my wrists or should I try to drown myself or should I jump out a window, etc., etc., etc... Smile, smile, smile as brightly as possible!
We roll these thoughts over and over in our head until they seem so abstractly concrete they confuse even us as we seek clarity in our muddy muddled thoughts. College isn't the only time I've thought about saying the hell with it all and ending it. During the 18 months it took for Ms. Ex and I to end our relationship I'll admit the thought crossed my mind a time or two. And then the thought came creeping in again when I hit the absolute rock bottom lowest point in my life six months after we were finally through. Once you let the kernel of "it would just be easier for everyone if I wasn't around anymore" into your head it's really hard to let go of it.
You keep suicide in the back of your mind as an option in case it gets worse. And you never know what might make it actually BECOME worse. It's never the big stuff which makes it worse, it's the little stuff like the grocery store being out of your favorite potato chips or not being able to rent the movie you were looking forward to or someone not saying "bless you" when you sneeze at the office. You're trapped inside that incredibly dark tunnel without a light to guide you out. The walls press in on you and though your hands might be stretched out searching for something, anything, to grab hold of, you can't find it. You're there alone in the heavy darkness spinning in circles until it just becomes too much and you crumple to a heap on the ground. There isn't anyone there standing beside you lighting a match or a lighter or holding a candle or a flashlight or the iPhone flashlight app and taking your hand to lead you out.
That's what I think about when I hear about the Tyler Clementis and the Asher Browns and the Seth Walshes. I think about that feeling of hopelessness, helplessness and despair because I've been there. I've been crumpled in a heap on the floor of that dark tunnel unable to see anyway out.
The only difference between us is that I made a deal with myself that I have to sleep on it before I do anything. And if it's not a little bit better in the morning then I can think about it again. It's always been better in the morning. Maybe it's not much better in the morning, but it's always a little better and it's been enough. And it gets better every day. The point is it does get better. It always gets better.
I'm glad I'm still here to experience my life. I have known so much joy. I've gotten to experience so many wonderful things. And I know I have a lifetime's worth of amazing things still to come. I can't wait to live them all. Life IS good no matter how corny that might sound. And for those of you who know me and might be worried, don't. I love my life and I'm in no way, shape or form even standing in that dark tunnel. And if ever I am there again at any point in my life I know now that it gets better. And I know I can reach out and find a hand in the dark to help guide me out.
The tears are rolling down my cheeks as I write this. It's cathartic and yet dredges up all these dark and tangled emotions from my past. Things I've chosen not to think about for years and years have floated to the surface and they still hurt, they still take me back to those dark places in my life, to the inside of that dark tunnel where I felt helpless, hopeless and alone. But even though it still hurts, even though I know these things will be with me forever, I also know that it gets better. And I also know that I had to go through them to become the person I am today. They made me stronger and for that I am grateful.
If you'd sat me down when I was 15 and told me what my life would be like when I was 35 I would never have believed you. No way in hell could it be possible that I'd be a 35 year old lesbian with two cats and a dog living alone in a house I own in Connecticut (of all places!!!) who sits at a desk all day at work dealing with data. None of this was on my radar at all when I was 15 (except maybe the cats, maybe). And I love every last bit of my life now. It's rich and full and all mine to live.
If you're contemplating suicide or just feel isolated and alone there are resources available to you. All it takes is being a little brave and reaching out. There are people there who want nothing more than to help you. There are people there to take your hand in that dark tunnel and walk you toward the light. The Trevor Project is a place to start.
You have too much to look forward to in life to end it. Don't you want to find out what's next? Don't you want to go to college? Or fall madly in love? Or travel around the world? Or find a cure for cancer or AIDS or some other debilitating disease? Or maybe you want to write a novel or a hit song or learn to fly a plane or how to build an ark or whatever it is that you want to do?
There are so many people waiting to meet you, waiting to see your next painting, read your next poem, listen to you sing, watch you dance or score a goal or a touchdown or simply sit down with you and laugh over coffee or tea or hot chocolate. We're there cheering you on as you strive to reach the goals you set for yourself. We are out there. And we love you for who you are. There's only one you and that is an incredibly special thing. Be the best you that you can be because nobody else can be you. Hold you head high, be proud of who you are, be strong. And know you are not alone.
It gets better, trust me I've been there. I know. It gets better.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Vacation in photos
I have at least three different posts I could write tonight. But it was a long day at work. And then traffic was ridiculous coming home. And I'm too tired to put in the thought and effort that the other posts deserve so what follows is my vacation in pictures.
I've been back from vacation for what feels like months now, but is really only about a week and a half. I spent a wonderful week on Mt. Desert Island in Maine with a couple friends. MDI is home to Acadia National Park and the little town of Bar Harbor. And it's one of my very favorite places. I feel at peace there; there's not much more to say about it than that.
These are only a few of the 700+ photos I took. Yes, I am that person. I totally own it.
YO HO! We started our trip by going to a lumberjack show. Timber Tina was a bit intimidating.
Playing on the rocks and looking back toward Sand Beach. I love this part of Acadia.
Time spent at Wonder Land is time well spent.
We were told of, and found, a very awesome cave. Mr. A shown for scale.
Inside the cave we saw sea anemones, crabs, snails and starfish. And I nearly slide down the rocks which would have caused me to get swept out with the tide. Or maybe just completely soaked.
This year we decided to see sunset on Cadillac Mountain instead of getting up for sunrise.
I put myself to the test this year.
I literally have nightmares about things like this.
But the view was totally worth the fear.
This is where we sat at night to watch the stars.
Until next time Bar Harbor, jazz hands!
I've been back from vacation for what feels like months now, but is really only about a week and a half. I spent a wonderful week on Mt. Desert Island in Maine with a couple friends. MDI is home to Acadia National Park and the little town of Bar Harbor. And it's one of my very favorite places. I feel at peace there; there's not much more to say about it than that.
These are only a few of the 700+ photos I took. Yes, I am that person. I totally own it.
YO HO! We started our trip by going to a lumberjack show. Timber Tina was a bit intimidating.
Playing on the rocks and looking back toward Sand Beach. I love this part of Acadia.
Time spent at Wonder Land is time well spent.
We were told of, and found, a very awesome cave. Mr. A shown for scale.
Inside the cave we saw sea anemones, crabs, snails and starfish. And I nearly slide down the rocks which would have caused me to get swept out with the tide. Or maybe just completely soaked.
This year we decided to see sunset on Cadillac Mountain instead of getting up for sunrise.
I put myself to the test this year.
I literally have nightmares about things like this.
But the view was totally worth the fear.
This is where we sat at night to watch the stars.
Until next time Bar Harbor, jazz hands!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Good things come to those who wait
I do believe the old adage is true. Good things do indeed come to those who wait. I've found that to be quite true in my own life and I've seen it happen with friends as well. What I don't believe is that waiting means sitting around for ages doing nothing.
Waiting really means doing things you want to do, things you enjoy doing and being with friends and family while knowing that the good thing you are waiting for will appear in it's own time. Waiting is making forward progress in other aspects of your life even though the one thing you're waiting for hasn't yet appeared. Waiting is living and being happy while knowing it'll all happen in it's own time.
I think the good thing I've been waiting for for so long has appeared. No, I don't think it, I know it. And I'm happy. Very happy. Which is awesome and kind of freaks me out too because I haven't felt this way in a long time. Mostly it's awesome though with just a small side of freak out.
What this happiness has taught me (or retaught me since I already knew all this, but you know, forgot it. Again.) is that my instincts are always correct. That my gut knows best. That I will know when I know. That you can't force something that isn't there and that you shouldn't force it because that which doesn't have to be forced is a thousand times more enjoyable. And is right instead of maybe just close enough to right not to be wrong.
And what I know also is that nothing has to be rushed. Back in the day when I was a young and foolish girl I had a lot to learn about life and about myself. I was constantly trying to fit square pegs into round holes because I thought, well who the hell knows exactly what I thought really. Pretty sure I didn't even know what I thought back then. But those square pegs never really fit into those round holes but I'd pretend they did anyway. All in the name of being "happy."
I'm done with that kind of forcing something to fit. I'm done trying to make things work that won't work. I'm done with wasting my time on something or someone I'm not sure about. So, if you see me often or interact with me in some other way often you can rest assured that I like you. If I didn't I would somehow disappear from your life. Why waste either of our time right?
Sometimes things just feel right. Like everything has finally clicked into place and it's cozy and comfortable and just right. That's an amazing feeling. The older I've gotten the more I believe that the line from Jerry McGuire "you complete me" is a huge crock of Hollywood bullshit which has probably scarred a generation of women. I don't need anyone to complete me, I'm complete on my own. What I do need is someone who complements me and who makes those things click into place for me. It's been feeling very right lately for me. I adore that feeling.
All this to say that I met someone I really like. We'll call her Stalker since everyone on this blog must have a nickname apparently. Hopefully Stalker won't mind her nickname since I find the stalking quite endearing really. I like a woman who does her homework and who keeps up with it. Stalker has read/reads my blog so everyone, *wave* and say hi to Stalker! Oh god, where was I? Right, Stalker makes those things click for me, a feeling I haven't had in years. Which is both incredible and terrifying at the same time. But one day at a time right? Focus on the good and not on the "holy shit!"
So, Stalker, I don't care if you're messy right now. I don't care that you have work issues to deal with or a schedule/job which forces you to stay close to home a lot. I don't care who does the driving to see whom or who buys dinner or whatever. I just want to spend time with you. And it doesn't have to be anything more than simply spending time together until you want it to be more than that or are ready for it to be more than that. If you do want it to be more than that. I shouldn't make assumptions should I? I'm not going anywhere either way. I'll follow your lead. Just know I'm content to be spending time with you whether it's only a couple hours or half a day (literally half the day, as in 12 hours, or more even) (why I felt the need to clarify that I have no idea) (just go with me on it okay?) (thanks). If you want more than that, well, I'm not going to turn you down. ;-)
Now, I'm not writing this to freak you out Stalker. I really don't think there's anything you should be freaked out by. If I'm wrong there and I have freaked you out please let me know. I'm writing this because I'm happy and I promised myself that I'd blog not only when I'm feeling morose but also, and most especially, when I'm happy. And I am. Happy that is. Apparently I'm also rambling now. Wonderful. Moving on. Still happy though!
The lyrics for this post are from a song which I love for the ridiculously happy feeling it exudes. I have a wee bit of trouble with one of the words in it though since it's also the name of my big orange cat, Sunshine. If you replace the happy image of that word with the image of my cat it TOTALLY changes the meaning of the song. Hi, tangent, so nice to see you again!
Anyway, I give you Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves. And, Stalker, don't take this to mean anything other than I'm happy okay? Don't read into it. ;-)
I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait 'til the day when you knock on my door
Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down
'Cause I just can't wait 'til you write me you're coming around
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
And don't it feel good!
Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!
Hey yeah
I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it's true
And I don't want to spend my whole life just waiting for you
Now I don't want you back for the weekend
Not back for a day, no no no
I said baby I just want you back and I want you to stay
Oh yeah now!
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
and don't it feel good!
Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!
Yeah, oh yeah
And don't it feel good!
Walking on sunshine
Walking on sunshine
I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
And don't it feel good!
All right now
And don't it feel good
I'll say it again now
And don't it feel good!
And don't it feel good!
Waiting really means doing things you want to do, things you enjoy doing and being with friends and family while knowing that the good thing you are waiting for will appear in it's own time. Waiting is making forward progress in other aspects of your life even though the one thing you're waiting for hasn't yet appeared. Waiting is living and being happy while knowing it'll all happen in it's own time.
I think the good thing I've been waiting for for so long has appeared. No, I don't think it, I know it. And I'm happy. Very happy. Which is awesome and kind of freaks me out too because I haven't felt this way in a long time. Mostly it's awesome though with just a small side of freak out.
What this happiness has taught me (or retaught me since I already knew all this, but you know, forgot it. Again.) is that my instincts are always correct. That my gut knows best. That I will know when I know. That you can't force something that isn't there and that you shouldn't force it because that which doesn't have to be forced is a thousand times more enjoyable. And is right instead of maybe just close enough to right not to be wrong.
And what I know also is that nothing has to be rushed. Back in the day when I was a young and foolish girl I had a lot to learn about life and about myself. I was constantly trying to fit square pegs into round holes because I thought, well who the hell knows exactly what I thought really. Pretty sure I didn't even know what I thought back then. But those square pegs never really fit into those round holes but I'd pretend they did anyway. All in the name of being "happy."
I'm done with that kind of forcing something to fit. I'm done trying to make things work that won't work. I'm done with wasting my time on something or someone I'm not sure about. So, if you see me often or interact with me in some other way often you can rest assured that I like you. If I didn't I would somehow disappear from your life. Why waste either of our time right?
Sometimes things just feel right. Like everything has finally clicked into place and it's cozy and comfortable and just right. That's an amazing feeling. The older I've gotten the more I believe that the line from Jerry McGuire "you complete me" is a huge crock of Hollywood bullshit which has probably scarred a generation of women. I don't need anyone to complete me, I'm complete on my own. What I do need is someone who complements me and who makes those things click into place for me. It's been feeling very right lately for me. I adore that feeling.
All this to say that I met someone I really like. We'll call her Stalker since everyone on this blog must have a nickname apparently. Hopefully Stalker won't mind her nickname since I find the stalking quite endearing really. I like a woman who does her homework and who keeps up with it. Stalker has read/reads my blog so everyone, *wave* and say hi to Stalker! Oh god, where was I? Right, Stalker makes those things click for me, a feeling I haven't had in years. Which is both incredible and terrifying at the same time. But one day at a time right? Focus on the good and not on the "holy shit!"
So, Stalker, I don't care if you're messy right now. I don't care that you have work issues to deal with or a schedule/job which forces you to stay close to home a lot. I don't care who does the driving to see whom or who buys dinner or whatever. I just want to spend time with you. And it doesn't have to be anything more than simply spending time together until you want it to be more than that or are ready for it to be more than that. If you do want it to be more than that. I shouldn't make assumptions should I? I'm not going anywhere either way. I'll follow your lead. Just know I'm content to be spending time with you whether it's only a couple hours or half a day (literally half the day, as in 12 hours, or more even) (why I felt the need to clarify that I have no idea) (just go with me on it okay?) (thanks). If you want more than that, well, I'm not going to turn you down. ;-)
Now, I'm not writing this to freak you out Stalker. I really don't think there's anything you should be freaked out by. If I'm wrong there and I have freaked you out please let me know. I'm writing this because I'm happy and I promised myself that I'd blog not only when I'm feeling morose but also, and most especially, when I'm happy. And I am. Happy that is. Apparently I'm also rambling now. Wonderful. Moving on. Still happy though!
The lyrics for this post are from a song which I love for the ridiculously happy feeling it exudes. I have a wee bit of trouble with one of the words in it though since it's also the name of my big orange cat, Sunshine. If you replace the happy image of that word with the image of my cat it TOTALLY changes the meaning of the song. Hi, tangent, so nice to see you again!
Anyway, I give you Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves. And, Stalker, don't take this to mean anything other than I'm happy okay? Don't read into it. ;-)
I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait 'til the day when you knock on my door
Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down
'Cause I just can't wait 'til you write me you're coming around
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
And don't it feel good!
Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!
Hey yeah
I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it's true
And I don't want to spend my whole life just waiting for you
Now I don't want you back for the weekend
Not back for a day, no no no
I said baby I just want you back and I want you to stay
Oh yeah now!
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
and don't it feel good!
Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!
Yeah, oh yeah
And don't it feel good!
Walking on sunshine
Walking on sunshine
I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm on sunshine baby oh
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
And don't it feel good!
All right now
And don't it feel good
I'll say it again now
And don't it feel good!
And don't it feel good!
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