This morning I woke up and I felt so much lighter. I'm not proud of my epic meltdown but I'm grateful that I've said it, acknowledged it, and now I can really move on.
Today we are going to the zoo and I'm so excited :) Happy Wednesday.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Oh, hello breakdown of 2010.
Holy Sh*t balls.
I have no idea what just happened to me. I was leaving class, preparing myself for the hundreds of emotions that could come about from my conversation with J, when he gave me a wonderful house warming present; it made me want to laugh, cry, and crumble to the floor all at the same time. It was so surreal having him in the passenger seat again as I drove him to his car after class--I always feel like I'm bracing myself for impact when we're together. I never know if you are going to tell me how you feel and what you want. Our relationship is brutal. It has been brutal. The remains of our relationship are everywhere; It took me down to the bare bones, exposed and raw.
I am so aware of him when we are walking together. His touches on my back make me want to recede into myself and hide. His touch used to be the comforting in the world--but that was months ago. Now, I'm just afraid you are going to kiss me. You want more and I want peace. It makes me hate myself because you are such a good man. You've been here for me more than anyone else but yet I cannot bring myself to love you again.
Why does it always have to come to this? A painful dichotomy of what is and what was. Why do we have to lose people to appreciate them?
In the car he told me that he had been seeing a therapist because things had been so rough. I told him I was proud of him for going...he eventually added that their conversations had turned toward us and our relationship. He said he wanted to apologize, if I ever felt like things were a result of me--because in reality it was about him and his stress. I sat there white knuckling the steering wheel, knowing what he was feeling but willing him not to say it out loud. After he gave me the gifts, he hugged me so tight --I could smell the detergent on his shirt. I breathed it in, wondering how we ended up here. Two strangers who got hit by a tidal wave, swimming back toward each other to find a completely different setting.
What a day. I'm sitting here realizing...that one year ago Jason and I were just beginning and now we are beginning to end again. I loved him, I fought for him, and I gave up parts of myself to save us. It's not right--no matter how "dedicated" and "loyal" he may seem now, I need to remember what happened to us. You can't check out when times get rough, you have to stay and give the relationship 100%. Even when you don't have 100%. I can't love him again, somewhere inside I'm too far gone.
Someday, I will find someone who will give as much as I do. Always. Not when it is convenient. Always. Life is hard, and life will always be hard--but it's mildly easier because you have someone in this with you. This crazy, haphazard, unpredictable thing called life.
I balled my eyes out on the drive home. It was one of those ridiculous sob fests (as much as I REALLY could let myself cry..in fear I'd crash my car). I actually just let myself have a complete moment--I'm beginning to think it was actually cathartic. Wilson comforted me and it was one of those moments where you wish the person on the other end of the line was there to squeeze your hand. He is one of those rare people who is honest and accepting of your current state--you don't have to put on the bells and whistles and fake smile, I'm not that good of a liar anyway. He also brings up those questions that make you confront the dark parts of yourself. The black abyss of my insides.
I have been trying so hard to be tough and hold myself to some ridiculous ice queen standard during this whole thing. This stupid avalanche looming above my head. My relationships are a small snowball in this impending crash. My busy schedule and stress have become minutiae, shrinking to nothingness alongside the mangled remains of my sense of self.
I'm sure things will sort themselves out, it's acceptance of what is and what is not. At the end of the day, I need to be grateful for the people I can depend on (Kristin has been like my guardian angel lately, so supportive, strong, and compassionate)..I need to be grateful that I can trust in myself--to know that somehow I'm going to figure it out and I'm not going to fail.
It's a new thing to admit I need other people. I realized a lot about things with Jeff too. Honestly, today was like being hit in the face with a big dose of reality. What happened with Jeff is hard. It's hard because I love him and it's hard because it's as if I am stuck in neutral. Unsure of the future. I can't deny that I miss him.
Simple, obvious, harrowing.
On another level, with him I felt safe. In his company, I was able to just be and exist. It seems like it was all just a dream.
The world is back in motion, as if it none of it ever happened. DT called to get together on Friday night, I half heartedly agreed to meet up with him and his friends. As the night went on, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Eric mentioned that he wanted to come visit or see me at homecoming. The idea of someone being in my apartment or in any way, shape or form intimate with me makes my skin crawl. The idea disgusted me. Deep down I know that I don't want to get entangled up in these complicated situations. I know better. I can't imagine a man touching me or being around me. I guess this would probably stem from "the event." Jeff, somehow, transcends any barrier I have put up or wall that has been reinforced. It's just so ironic; he's the one person right now that I should be emotionally shut off to. He's gone.
At the end of the day we all need someone. We aren't meant to be alone. I don't like believing that I have to be alone. I'll pull myself together. I'll get over this negativity. I promise.
I am a strong person and I know that I'm going to continue working on myself over the next few months. I'm going to get over this. I'm going to get through it. At the end of the day, I find comfort in a hug or knowing look--I don't think that makes me weak. It goes against my general nature to seek out people right now..but I feel like we shouldn't have to do this whole crazy deal on our own, all the time.
Isn't that why we fall in love? Why we get married? To have a partner? To experience this life with your other half? Good and the bad. It's in the vows. For better or for worse. To believe that someone is going to stick by you, even when it's hard, even when they don't want to--because you're in this together. Although I'm a little beaten down right now, I still exist. At some point, you need to remind yourself that everything will be okay...you are okay.
The universe has decided I should be alone.
Even so, this experience has helped me realize I think I was wrong to always want to be on my own and get all my "stuff" sorted out, unpack all my beloved "baggage". Stuff happens. Stuff will always happen. Baggage exists because we take with us things from the past...It's what we do with it that matters. Are we going to dump it all over our partner and leave it with them to sift through? Or are we going to introduce them to the things that have shaped us? I'll love you, not in spite of your baggage, but partially because of it. You are who you are..and that's okay.
Of course we are capable of getting through it alone, deep down I know that I am..but I'm not sure that's a necessity. We won't always have our act together, we won't always have a sense of self; but at the end of the day we have people who love us who will remind us of who we are. Laughter that will pull us out of our own dark depths, into the light. Back into life.
Oh, what a day...beauty in the breakdown of 2010. I'm figuring it out, a day at a time.
I have no idea what just happened to me. I was leaving class, preparing myself for the hundreds of emotions that could come about from my conversation with J, when he gave me a wonderful house warming present; it made me want to laugh, cry, and crumble to the floor all at the same time. It was so surreal having him in the passenger seat again as I drove him to his car after class--I always feel like I'm bracing myself for impact when we're together. I never know if you are going to tell me how you feel and what you want. Our relationship is brutal. It has been brutal. The remains of our relationship are everywhere; It took me down to the bare bones, exposed and raw.
I am so aware of him when we are walking together. His touches on my back make me want to recede into myself and hide. His touch used to be the comforting in the world--but that was months ago. Now, I'm just afraid you are going to kiss me. You want more and I want peace. It makes me hate myself because you are such a good man. You've been here for me more than anyone else but yet I cannot bring myself to love you again.
Why does it always have to come to this? A painful dichotomy of what is and what was. Why do we have to lose people to appreciate them?
In the car he told me that he had been seeing a therapist because things had been so rough. I told him I was proud of him for going...he eventually added that their conversations had turned toward us and our relationship. He said he wanted to apologize, if I ever felt like things were a result of me--because in reality it was about him and his stress. I sat there white knuckling the steering wheel, knowing what he was feeling but willing him not to say it out loud. After he gave me the gifts, he hugged me so tight --I could smell the detergent on his shirt. I breathed it in, wondering how we ended up here. Two strangers who got hit by a tidal wave, swimming back toward each other to find a completely different setting.
What a day. I'm sitting here realizing...that one year ago Jason and I were just beginning and now we are beginning to end again. I loved him, I fought for him, and I gave up parts of myself to save us. It's not right--no matter how "dedicated" and "loyal" he may seem now, I need to remember what happened to us. You can't check out when times get rough, you have to stay and give the relationship 100%. Even when you don't have 100%. I can't love him again, somewhere inside I'm too far gone.
Someday, I will find someone who will give as much as I do. Always. Not when it is convenient. Always. Life is hard, and life will always be hard--but it's mildly easier because you have someone in this with you. This crazy, haphazard, unpredictable thing called life.
I balled my eyes out on the drive home. It was one of those ridiculous sob fests (as much as I REALLY could let myself cry..in fear I'd crash my car). I actually just let myself have a complete moment--I'm beginning to think it was actually cathartic. Wilson comforted me and it was one of those moments where you wish the person on the other end of the line was there to squeeze your hand. He is one of those rare people who is honest and accepting of your current state--you don't have to put on the bells and whistles and fake smile, I'm not that good of a liar anyway. He also brings up those questions that make you confront the dark parts of yourself. The black abyss of my insides.
I have been trying so hard to be tough and hold myself to some ridiculous ice queen standard during this whole thing. This stupid avalanche looming above my head. My relationships are a small snowball in this impending crash. My busy schedule and stress have become minutiae, shrinking to nothingness alongside the mangled remains of my sense of self.
I'm sure things will sort themselves out, it's acceptance of what is and what is not. At the end of the day, I need to be grateful for the people I can depend on (Kristin has been like my guardian angel lately, so supportive, strong, and compassionate)..I need to be grateful that I can trust in myself--to know that somehow I'm going to figure it out and I'm not going to fail.
It's a new thing to admit I need other people. I realized a lot about things with Jeff too. Honestly, today was like being hit in the face with a big dose of reality. What happened with Jeff is hard. It's hard because I love him and it's hard because it's as if I am stuck in neutral. Unsure of the future. I can't deny that I miss him.
Simple, obvious, harrowing.
On another level, with him I felt safe. In his company, I was able to just be and exist. It seems like it was all just a dream.
The world is back in motion, as if it none of it ever happened. DT called to get together on Friday night, I half heartedly agreed to meet up with him and his friends. As the night went on, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Eric mentioned that he wanted to come visit or see me at homecoming. The idea of someone being in my apartment or in any way, shape or form intimate with me makes my skin crawl. The idea disgusted me. Deep down I know that I don't want to get entangled up in these complicated situations. I know better. I can't imagine a man touching me or being around me. I guess this would probably stem from "the event." Jeff, somehow, transcends any barrier I have put up or wall that has been reinforced. It's just so ironic; he's the one person right now that I should be emotionally shut off to. He's gone.
At the end of the day we all need someone. We aren't meant to be alone. I don't like believing that I have to be alone. I'll pull myself together. I'll get over this negativity. I promise.
I am a strong person and I know that I'm going to continue working on myself over the next few months. I'm going to get over this. I'm going to get through it. At the end of the day, I find comfort in a hug or knowing look--I don't think that makes me weak. It goes against my general nature to seek out people right now..but I feel like we shouldn't have to do this whole crazy deal on our own, all the time.
Isn't that why we fall in love? Why we get married? To have a partner? To experience this life with your other half? Good and the bad. It's in the vows. For better or for worse. To believe that someone is going to stick by you, even when it's hard, even when they don't want to--because you're in this together. Although I'm a little beaten down right now, I still exist. At some point, you need to remind yourself that everything will be okay...you are okay.
The universe has decided I should be alone.
Even so, this experience has helped me realize I think I was wrong to always want to be on my own and get all my "stuff" sorted out, unpack all my beloved "baggage". Stuff happens. Stuff will always happen. Baggage exists because we take with us things from the past...It's what we do with it that matters. Are we going to dump it all over our partner and leave it with them to sift through? Or are we going to introduce them to the things that have shaped us? I'll love you, not in spite of your baggage, but partially because of it. You are who you are..and that's okay.
Of course we are capable of getting through it alone, deep down I know that I am..but I'm not sure that's a necessity. We won't always have our act together, we won't always have a sense of self; but at the end of the day we have people who love us who will remind us of who we are. Laughter that will pull us out of our own dark depths, into the light. Back into life.
Oh, what a day...beauty in the breakdown of 2010. I'm figuring it out, a day at a time.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Truth in words, in rhymes and notes..in all the things I wish I'd wrote.
Well, firstly you must know that I survived the classic case of "The Encroacher." Just when you think you have solidified yourself a safe, comfortable seat for the flight...this person rolls in and dominates your space. They are usually an aggressive female or machismo male. As if they are a cockatoos--puffing up and showing you just how much space they can successfully take up. I was too tired to passive aggressively reclaim my personal space with accidental elbow jabs and elaborate, space consuming bag searches. As he took over the arm rest and most of my seat, I retreated into the corners of my window seat, clinging to the wall like a lizard. I somehow fell asleep in this pretzel-esque position for an hour (thank you Bikram yoga for all your lessons in contortion). I woke up to the little girl behind me, caught up in her excitement, smashing her legs into the back of my seat. You know you work with kids when their laughter and screaming actually makes your soul smile.
It was really refreshing to see the airport so crowded with families and laughing children. After I got off the flight/nap session, I stopped at the local coffee spot--picked up a San Francisco worthy chai and three magazines (Cosmopolitan, Self, and Women's Health). I wondered if the woman behind the counter was trying to predict which magazines I would select...Nathan lovingly informed me that girls who look like me aren't usually nice...so I was left to believe she thought I would be a vapid US or People subscriber (no offense). Or maybe, thanks to my Hunger Watch 2010 figure, my skim milk substitute and fitness magazines suit the profile. She probably didn't even think about me. It's hard for me to believe that not everyone is psychoanalytic, obsessive, and lost in a series of mostlyunimportantbutslightlyinteresting musings.
I have successfully been left with my own thoughts for almost 7 hours. I haven't had a conversation with anyone but my mother all day. I thought only of "the event" once when I saw a man who walked the way he did...that disturbing body stance that seems uncontrolled and volatile, like a bomb waiting to go off. You know the guy, the one who is walking as if all he wants to do is punch someone in the face? (we've all probably been there at some point...except this guy always has a distinguishing look of mania in his eyes). The one thought that I can't shake is the idea that at any point--someone could just start beating the crap out of me because they felt like it. This is probably why I need to talk to someone more educated on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD..I'm acquiring titles to encapsulate my problems). This too shall pass. I decided while I was waiting at the airport that I would start running at night again. It's my way of giving a proverbial middle finger to the event and psychopaths. I think at this point, I would be so pissed that it was happening again that I would inevitably kick some ass. Do you think I could do it? Or do you think I would be running, quickening my pace, convinced someone was chasing after me? Perhaps I'm not a real lioness at all and merely the cowardly lion, hiding behind what I think I should be like.
Anyway, back to the beginning--I did have a pseudo conversation--I had an internal monologue with the book i'm reading Eat, Pray, Love. This book has become a mirror of my current state: it holds pages of answers to questions I'm too afraid to ask myself sometimes. I feel like she wrote a book I easily could've written...minus the messy divorce and dysfunctional affair with a younger man. The main point of the novel is acceptance of who you are and who you are not. This simple idea has filled up hundreds of blogs of mine, an ongoing project--a work in progress. Here's a passage that is now marked up, well loved, and dog-eared:
It was really refreshing to see the airport so crowded with families and laughing children. After I got off the flight/nap session, I stopped at the local coffee spot--picked up a San Francisco worthy chai and three magazines (Cosmopolitan, Self, and Women's Health). I wondered if the woman behind the counter was trying to predict which magazines I would select...Nathan lovingly informed me that girls who look like me aren't usually nice...so I was left to believe she thought I would be a vapid US or People subscriber (no offense). Or maybe, thanks to my Hunger Watch 2010 figure, my skim milk substitute and fitness magazines suit the profile. She probably didn't even think about me. It's hard for me to believe that not everyone is psychoanalytic, obsessive, and lost in a series of mostlyunimportantbutslightlyinteresting musings.
I have successfully been left with my own thoughts for almost 7 hours. I haven't had a conversation with anyone but my mother all day. I thought only of "the event" once when I saw a man who walked the way he did...that disturbing body stance that seems uncontrolled and volatile, like a bomb waiting to go off. You know the guy, the one who is walking as if all he wants to do is punch someone in the face? (we've all probably been there at some point...except this guy always has a distinguishing look of mania in his eyes). The one thought that I can't shake is the idea that at any point--someone could just start beating the crap out of me because they felt like it. This is probably why I need to talk to someone more educated on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD..I'm acquiring titles to encapsulate my problems). This too shall pass. I decided while I was waiting at the airport that I would start running at night again. It's my way of giving a proverbial middle finger to the event and psychopaths. I think at this point, I would be so pissed that it was happening again that I would inevitably kick some ass. Do you think I could do it? Or do you think I would be running, quickening my pace, convinced someone was chasing after me? Perhaps I'm not a real lioness at all and merely the cowardly lion, hiding behind what I think I should be like.
Anyway, back to the beginning--I did have a pseudo conversation--I had an internal monologue with the book i'm reading Eat, Pray, Love. This book has become a mirror of my current state: it holds pages of answers to questions I'm too afraid to ask myself sometimes. I feel like she wrote a book I easily could've written...minus the messy divorce and dysfunctional affair with a younger man. The main point of the novel is acceptance of who you are and who you are not. This simple idea has filled up hundreds of blogs of mine, an ongoing project--a work in progress. Here's a passage that is now marked up, well loved, and dog-eared:
I look at the Augusteum, and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me not to get attached to any obsolete ideas about who I am, what I represent, whom I belong to, or what function I may once have intended to serve. Yesterday I might have been a glorious monument to somebody, true enough--but tomorrow I could be a fireworks depository. Even in the Eternal City, says the silent Augusteum, one must always be prepared for riotous and endless waves of transformation.
To grandmother's house I go.
I made it to the airport! It's been so long that I actually forgot to take off my shoes...I'm surprised I wasn't tasered. Needless to say I think I took the threat level up for the airport. I can't wait to get to read my books that have been sitting collecting dust. Finally :)
Last flight I went on, I was chatted up by Captain America. I can only hope I won't be sexually harassed this trip by any Ed Hardy's of the Night.
Last flight I went on, I was chatted up by Captain America. I can only hope I won't be sexually harassed this trip by any Ed Hardy's of the Night.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
My mother raised me to be better than this...time to pick myself back up.
So we've been reading Frankenstein, and I've fallen in love with Mary Shelley's writing. Her commentary in the beginning chapters on the stages of grief and feelings of loss struck a chord within me and has been reverberating all day. After a certain period of time, she said that we begin to indulge ourselves in our feelings of discontent/depression. There comes a time, when our depression is indulgent.
When did my own company become unsatisfactory?
The past few weeks I've realized that the worst part of my day is the end and the beginning. I come home, prepare a lunch for the next day, get the coffee maker prepped for the morning, eat something blase, and then peel off my clothes and crawl into bed--easing my way into sleep, begrudgingly accepting that tomorrow will be full of the same emptiness.
I used to ache for the part of the day when I would finally get to be alone. When did being alone become so scary? Or a sign of failure? I guess about 1 month and 1/2 ago. I wrote in my impact statement that the biggest thing to change about me in the course of this crazy event was my sense of confidence in myself. I used to speak with conviction. Walk with a steady step.
I drove by the park on Chaparral and Hayden tonight, my heart ached a little as my eyes followed the lone runners in between the couples walking. I envied them. The loners and the couples. When I dropped off blockbuster, a couple was getting out of their car for a DVD date night--it's one of those wistful sigh moments....I'd be lying if I said that wasn't something I wished I was doing. Wasn't I just doing that? The irony. When did being a plus one become so complicated? All these hurdles and road blocks. Just when you think you have the green light, breathing easy as the universe seemingly begins to align--just to watch it all fall apart in a beautiful cacophony of goodbye.
The first stage of moving forward: acceptance.
I am willing to accept that the event changed me. I hate calling it an 'event' but I have no other way to classify it. It's almost like equating it to a bad party. It'll do.
I'll accept that I'm a little dark and twisty on the inside right now. Borrowing the words of my grandmother, I'm getting better everyday.
I'll accept/admit I'm a little afraid of being alone with my thoughts. But, today..I'm feeling peaceful and more confident than I've have in a long time.
I made a promise to myself this morning--I refuse to forget who I am. In these little moments, sometimes I feel like I don't recognize myself anymore. So it's going to begin with following a suggestion made by Piglet.
5 "Courtney" things that make me happy:
1. Coffee in an oversized mug in the morning, curled up on the sofa (no rushing allowed).
2. Camelback mountain--sitting at the top and getting perspective--we all look like ants.
3. Reading a good book in a newly discovered nook (preferably with a view and sunshine)
4. Epic runs--me, rhythmic breathing, pavement, and kicking up dust on the past.
5. Candles burning
This weekend I'm confronting my fears. I'm going to be alone, separated with little to distract me. I'm excited to see my grandmother, but nervous about all the quiet. It's time to remember the difference between solitude and loneliness. Time to become that girl from a couple months ago--she really was fearless.
I will never let myself be the type of girl who would spend a day being unhappy because of a failed relationship. What will be, will be. Trust in the universe. I believe in can'tlivewithoutyou love. I believe in happily ever after. I believe that I too will have a onceinalifetime ending. I won't settle for anything less.
I don't have my partner yet. I don't have that hand to rest on my mind, to hold on to when life gets shaky. But I have myself...and that's more than enough. Time to snap out of it.
When did my own company become unsatisfactory?
The past few weeks I've realized that the worst part of my day is the end and the beginning. I come home, prepare a lunch for the next day, get the coffee maker prepped for the morning, eat something blase, and then peel off my clothes and crawl into bed--easing my way into sleep, begrudgingly accepting that tomorrow will be full of the same emptiness.
I used to ache for the part of the day when I would finally get to be alone. When did being alone become so scary? Or a sign of failure? I guess about 1 month and 1/2 ago. I wrote in my impact statement that the biggest thing to change about me in the course of this crazy event was my sense of confidence in myself. I used to speak with conviction. Walk with a steady step.
I drove by the park on Chaparral and Hayden tonight, my heart ached a little as my eyes followed the lone runners in between the couples walking. I envied them. The loners and the couples. When I dropped off blockbuster, a couple was getting out of their car for a DVD date night--it's one of those wistful sigh moments....I'd be lying if I said that wasn't something I wished I was doing. Wasn't I just doing that? The irony. When did being a plus one become so complicated? All these hurdles and road blocks. Just when you think you have the green light, breathing easy as the universe seemingly begins to align--just to watch it all fall apart in a beautiful cacophony of goodbye.
The first stage of moving forward: acceptance.
I am willing to accept that the event changed me. I hate calling it an 'event' but I have no other way to classify it. It's almost like equating it to a bad party. It'll do.
I'll accept that I'm a little dark and twisty on the inside right now. Borrowing the words of my grandmother, I'm getting better everyday.
I'll accept/admit I'm a little afraid of being alone with my thoughts. But, today..I'm feeling peaceful and more confident than I've have in a long time.
I made a promise to myself this morning--I refuse to forget who I am. In these little moments, sometimes I feel like I don't recognize myself anymore. So it's going to begin with following a suggestion made by Piglet.
5 "Courtney" things that make me happy:
1. Coffee in an oversized mug in the morning, curled up on the sofa (no rushing allowed).
2. Camelback mountain--sitting at the top and getting perspective--we all look like ants.
3. Reading a good book in a newly discovered nook (preferably with a view and sunshine)
4. Epic runs--me, rhythmic breathing, pavement, and kicking up dust on the past.
5. Candles burning
This weekend I'm confronting my fears. I'm going to be alone, separated with little to distract me. I'm excited to see my grandmother, but nervous about all the quiet. It's time to remember the difference between solitude and loneliness. Time to become that girl from a couple months ago--she really was fearless.
I will never let myself be the type of girl who would spend a day being unhappy because of a failed relationship. What will be, will be. Trust in the universe. I believe in can'tlivewithoutyou love. I believe in happily ever after. I believe that I too will have a onceinalifetime ending. I won't settle for anything less.
I don't have my partner yet. I don't have that hand to rest on my mind, to hold on to when life gets shaky. But I have myself...and that's more than enough. Time to snap out of it.
Any change, any loss, does not make us victims. Others can shake you, surprise you, disappoint you, but they can't prevent you from acting, from taking the situation you're presented with and moving on. No matter where you are in life, no matter what your situation, you can always do something. You always have a choice and the choice can be power
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Loving ghosts.
Tonight I tried to drive to class--as I was driving, musing over the way the weather seems to mirror my insides (a complete disaster), the rain became too much and I pulled off the freeway. I turned around, trudged up the stairs, and put on a comfy pair of sweats. I've been curled up on the couch with Bella and my blanket for two hours.
Kellen called me from class, informing me that Jason is hoping we are going to get back together. It's an ironic situation--Jason went apathetic toward our relationship and now he is doing all the things he should have done when we were together. He sent Bella a 'get well' card and bought me a house warming gift that he brought to class tonight. It breaks my heart. I have no palpable emotions left toward him and us. For me, once the door is closed--it usually stays shut.
Last night left me reeling, it's just the strangest timing.
I have a case of the ex's going on. Since everything happened with Jeff last night, 3 of my ex's have contacted me today. What is going on in the universe? Why are they all coming out of the woodwork?
What is the universe trying to say?
I'm a walking cliche (to a certain extent). My heart is banged up by the man who is no longer in the picture, and I have people seeking me out from the past.
I need to let it all go. When did I become hesitant to be on my own? Love...it really can rip you up.
Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he's afraid of losing you.
Inner peace can be reached only when we practice forgiveness. Forgiveness is letting go of the past, and is therefore the means for correcting our misperceptions.
Let go. Why do you cling to pain? There is nothing you can do about the wrongs of yesterday. It is not yours to judge. Why hold on to the very thing which keeps you from hope and love?
-- Leo Buscaglia
Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.
-- Anon
Kellen called me from class, informing me that Jason is hoping we are going to get back together. It's an ironic situation--Jason went apathetic toward our relationship and now he is doing all the things he should have done when we were together. He sent Bella a 'get well' card and bought me a house warming gift that he brought to class tonight. It breaks my heart. I have no palpable emotions left toward him and us. For me, once the door is closed--it usually stays shut.
Last night left me reeling, it's just the strangest timing.
I have a case of the ex's going on. Since everything happened with Jeff last night, 3 of my ex's have contacted me today. What is going on in the universe? Why are they all coming out of the woodwork?
What is the universe trying to say?
I'm a walking cliche (to a certain extent). My heart is banged up by the man who is no longer in the picture, and I have people seeking me out from the past.
I need to let it all go. When did I become hesitant to be on my own? Love...it really can rip you up.
Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he's afraid of losing you.
Inner peace can be reached only when we practice forgiveness. Forgiveness is letting go of the past, and is therefore the means for correcting our misperceptions.
Let go. Why do you cling to pain? There is nothing you can do about the wrongs of yesterday. It is not yours to judge. Why hold on to the very thing which keeps you from hope and love?
-- Leo Buscaglia
Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.
-- Anon
Today is the worst day.
I was up until 3 AM, reflecting on the events of the past two months--this well-loved, battered emotional baggage that sits in the corner. Yesterday, something within me just broke. I broke under all the pressure I've been attempting to hold at bay above my head. I felt angry about everything that has been happening lately.
I'm lonely.
That is the root of everything. I know that I need to start taking care of my wounds instead of hiding them--but this is the one time, out of all the series of life's cruel experiences, that I really don't want to do it alone. People don't talk to me about August 22nd.
I'm spread so emotionally thin, that I just didn't have it in me to be rational and separate emotion from reason. Yesterday, I gave into the floodgates of emotions.. I've had this snowball in motion that turned into an avalanche.
The court hearing was today. Today, the day I've been trying to pretend doesn't exist.
Last night, I had to submit my impact statement. I can't tell you why it was so hard for me to send it. Last night was the splintering of everything, it came out of nowhere and nothing seems to be the same.
Last night was like a death for me. I felt like I was being cut out of someone's life. Why is it so much easier for other people to just walk away? I can't pretend that I don't care. My father walked away from me 3 years ago and he is fine. Yet, I still love him, in spite of everything. Maybe there is something wrong with me that I can't forget about people.
Why can't I just pretend the past two months never happened? That I haven't grown accustomed to having someone in my life, people become a part of you. How can you go from loving someone to not wanting to talk to them or have that innate need to simply know how they are doing? I understand space and needing time. Life demands that sometimes. I just never thought that involved completely disappearing. I still exist. How it is possible that you could cut out someone you loved out of your life like they aren't..weren't important. Like they aren't a part of you, a part of your life.
Why am I here, all alone? Oh life, you've really kicked my ass this time. It's time to get my happy back.
The past two months have been full of events, events that we survived because no matter what, we were going to stick by each other. I would've stuck by you through all of this. I made a promise, the morning in my kitchen, that I wasn't going to let you ruin this. Last night, listening to you letting me go--I felt like I broke that promise. Some part of me wanted to tell you no, that we would be fine, that we could work through all of this. The bittersweet part was that I have to respect your choices, because I do want what's best for you, and the only reason I didn't speak up was because I didn't feel like you really wanted us anymore. I don't want anyone I have to chase. I want someone who is crazy about me, and will love me whole heartedly.
It isn't about me, or feeling like this isn't fair to me. I'm capable of making decisions and knowing what I can and cannot handle. If I really The truth of it is-- I feel like you lost faith in us, lost faith in me. You said you used to be able to see me clearly in all of this, I don't know why you decided to close your eyes to everything we are. I realize that you are not yourself. I miss you. I've missed you. I'm afraid that in letting you walk away, I've lost you. If you really want us, would you have shut me out like this? I cannot really believe that if you are in love with someone, you could handle not being in their life and hearing their voice--knowing that they are safe and okay. Take your space, but don't treat me like I never happened, that I didn't exist. I'm here. The past five months happened. We happened. We've survived the worst and now you're gone. Here I am, making room for the rational side of me that says--I really did lose you. There will never be an us, because after everything, you could walk away from me.
The part that is unfair is that I'm not really sure what is happening. If I, in my gut, feel like you don't want us anymore--is that the truth? Or is the truth that you do need time to clear away the skeletons to move forward with me. These are the questions that have no answers.
I'm lonely.
That is the root of everything. I know that I need to start taking care of my wounds instead of hiding them--but this is the one time, out of all the series of life's cruel experiences, that I really don't want to do it alone. People don't talk to me about August 22nd.
I'm spread so emotionally thin, that I just didn't have it in me to be rational and separate emotion from reason. Yesterday, I gave into the floodgates of emotions.. I've had this snowball in motion that turned into an avalanche.
The court hearing was today. Today, the day I've been trying to pretend doesn't exist.
Last night, I had to submit my impact statement. I can't tell you why it was so hard for me to send it. Last night was the splintering of everything, it came out of nowhere and nothing seems to be the same.
Last night was like a death for me. I felt like I was being cut out of someone's life. Why is it so much easier for other people to just walk away? I can't pretend that I don't care. My father walked away from me 3 years ago and he is fine. Yet, I still love him, in spite of everything. Maybe there is something wrong with me that I can't forget about people.
Why can't I just pretend the past two months never happened? That I haven't grown accustomed to having someone in my life, people become a part of you. How can you go from loving someone to not wanting to talk to them or have that innate need to simply know how they are doing? I understand space and needing time. Life demands that sometimes. I just never thought that involved completely disappearing. I still exist. How it is possible that you could cut out someone you loved out of your life like they aren't..weren't important. Like they aren't a part of you, a part of your life.
Why am I here, all alone? Oh life, you've really kicked my ass this time. It's time to get my happy back.
The past two months have been full of events, events that we survived because no matter what, we were going to stick by each other. I would've stuck by you through all of this. I made a promise, the morning in my kitchen, that I wasn't going to let you ruin this. Last night, listening to you letting me go--I felt like I broke that promise. Some part of me wanted to tell you no, that we would be fine, that we could work through all of this. The bittersweet part was that I have to respect your choices, because I do want what's best for you, and the only reason I didn't speak up was because I didn't feel like you really wanted us anymore. I don't want anyone I have to chase. I want someone who is crazy about me, and will love me whole heartedly.
It isn't about me, or feeling like this isn't fair to me. I'm capable of making decisions and knowing what I can and cannot handle. If I really The truth of it is-- I feel like you lost faith in us, lost faith in me. You said you used to be able to see me clearly in all of this, I don't know why you decided to close your eyes to everything we are. I realize that you are not yourself. I miss you. I've missed you. I'm afraid that in letting you walk away, I've lost you. If you really want us, would you have shut me out like this? I cannot really believe that if you are in love with someone, you could handle not being in their life and hearing their voice--knowing that they are safe and okay. Take your space, but don't treat me like I never happened, that I didn't exist. I'm here. The past five months happened. We happened. We've survived the worst and now you're gone. Here I am, making room for the rational side of me that says--I really did lose you. There will never be an us, because after everything, you could walk away from me.
The part that is unfair is that I'm not really sure what is happening. If I, in my gut, feel like you don't want us anymore--is that the truth? Or is the truth that you do need time to clear away the skeletons to move forward with me. These are the questions that have no answers.
Monday, October 4, 2010
My stupid mouth.
It's the things you wish you would have said. It's the bittersweet should of, would of, could of.
"I'm staring at the mess I made, as you turn, you take your heart and walk away. Should've held my ground, I could've been redeemed for every second chance that changed its mind on me. I should've spoken up I should've proudly claimed that my heads to blame for all my heart's mistakes."
-Parachute, "The Mess I Made"
I knew it was coming--it hit me this morning and made me so angry. I knew he was going to walk away. Too much.
You love me, when will you let me love you back?
It's the question I've been asking for a couple of weeks. Dancing through emotional land mines. Ignoring the inner voice that told me it was too good to be true. Nobody gets to be this happy. I guess we know the answer to the burning question. More than likely, never. I was afraid to get the gaze frosted over by ice again--always bracing myself for the rug to be pulled out from underneath me. It's the brutal romantic cliche--it's not you, it's me.
Saturday, he kissed me so passionately--the fireworks across the street dimly lighting my bedroom, these tiny explosions echoing the sparks between us. We had..maybe have.. a onceinalifetime kind of a wonderful.
I told you whatever you needed, it was yours. So now we aren't going to be talking or seeing each other for a few weeks...a month...whenever. I know how the cliche story goes. A week turns into a month, a month turns into 6 months, 6 months turns into never. I want to believe you--but I've never had a man actually keep his word. I also never thought you would cut me out of your life. Not so abruptly. I hope that you really are a man of your word, but I have to move forward with no expectations.
It's not believing that you're going to call. It's believing that the bond that we have is so strong that we can withstand all of this.
I've successfully worked myself up into a rage.
It all started with a ridiculous dream I had last night. Driving home from work, I worked myself up into a level of anger I didn't know I could achieve.
I have let my emotions spiral into something I can't squash down in my chest. I am so tired of being jerked and jolted. When did everything get so twisted? When did I start invalidating my own needs and feelings?
Why do I have so many questions about my life?
I'm afraid to say what I feel like I need to say. I don't know if I can trust my own judgment. Emotional minefields. Everywhere.
I have let my emotions spiral into something I can't squash down in my chest. I am so tired of being jerked and jolted. When did everything get so twisted? When did I start invalidating my own needs and feelings?
Why do I have so many questions about my life?
I'm afraid to say what I feel like I need to say. I don't know if I can trust my own judgment. Emotional minefields. Everywhere.
Friday, October 1, 2010
just finished unpacking at the new place..
My room already feels like home. Bella is sleeping on the floor and I'm making a list of "To purchase" items at the store tonight. I can't believe I'm done moving in and unpacked in less than 24 hours. It pays off to be obsessive compulsive.
We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.
- Joseph Campbell
And so we turn the page over
To think of starting. This is all there is.
"The beginning is the most important part of any work, especially in the case of a young and tender thing; for that is the time at which the character is being formed and the desired impression more readily taken."
Plato
"Every morning is a fresh beginning. Every day is the world made new. Today is a new day. Today is my world made new. I have lived all my life up to this moment, to come to this day. This moment--this day--is as good as any moment in all eternity. I shall make of this day--each moment of this day--a heaven on earth. This is my day of opportunity."
What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.
~T.S. Eliot
So many fail because they don’t get started – they don’t go. They don’t overcome inertia. They don’t begin.
We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.
- Joseph Campbell
Plato
~T.S. Eliot
Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over.
~F. Scott Fitzgerald
~F. Scott Fitzgerald
Truth is the beginning of every good thing, both in heaven and on earth; and he who would be blessed and happy should be from the first a partaker of truth, for then he can be trusted
~Plato
~Plato
Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.
~Carl Bard
~Carl Bard
Every day is a new beginning. Treat it that way. Stay away from what might have been, and look at what can be.
Here's to a new adventure :)
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I agree weekly horoscope!
Perhaps it is time for a change and float in a new direction. Conflicting situations in your life make it difficult to continue down that same path. Take a breath and step away from such problems. Find a new adventure, go on that date you keep putting off, start that budding romance that is just around the corner. There is enough out there in the outside world to keep you occupied and keep your thoughts from what has been bothering you.
You need the time away, so go to the theater, have a party and turn up the music. Life does not have to be so demanding for you. The distractions will help you calm yourself, refocus and rethink what you really want to do with life and how to disengage and even reverse the problems that you've been having.
Turn things around and get back on track. You have the ability to do so. Take the routine in your life and advance yourself through it. A good romance and steady finances will help you along so utilize these positives in your life. Strengthen that bond you have with your lover or close friend. Fall in love instead of holding back. Let the chemistry flow wholeheartedly. Go that extra step for your family. They will only help you along the path to a blissful life and be right behind you if you feel the need to fall. In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
This blog should be changed to doing nothing and everything at the same time.
I'm at Starbucks with Nikki, waiting for the aroma of coffee to kick my work ethic into drive. I started out this morning with the best of intentions--spinning at 8:15, Starbucks by 11. Spinning happened and it was an AMAZING class. I love the feeling of pushing yourself, a challenge that is overcome by giving that little extra you have somewhere deep inside. I need that "little extra" right now to tackle all this work. I have teacheritis. Starbucks at 11 turned into 11:30, which turned into grabbing an egg-white bialy across the street and talking about this crazy thing called life for an hour.
I've never been the type of person who can put my emotional world in a drawer when I need to be focusing 100% on work or studying. I wish I was that way. Last night Nathan and I were talking about relationships and balance..he was saying how he is the emotional one and his bf is more calculated--capable of ignoring his emotions when work needed to be done.
I need a mental vacation.
I also equally need a text message or phone call to let me know the world isn't about to come crashing down, I feel an impending doom in my gut. Ick.
I've never been the type of person who can put my emotional world in a drawer when I need to be focusing 100% on work or studying. I wish I was that way. Last night Nathan and I were talking about relationships and balance..he was saying how he is the emotional one and his bf is more calculated--capable of ignoring his emotions when work needed to be done.
I need a mental vacation.
I also equally need a text message or phone call to let me know the world isn't about to come crashing down, I feel an impending doom in my gut. Ick.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
When did everything get turned upside down?
Queen of my own chaos. Just look at this chaos. It's everywhere...lining the wall, strewn across the floor, piled on my bed. I'm looking for a semblance of what used to be my life--I'm coming up empty.
Here's the saddest part. The real kicker if you will. After work today, I couldn't get home fast enough. I just wanted to be alone. Now, at 7:10 PM on Saturday night--I'm alone and all I want to really do is cry. Two months ago, I wanted to get off the roller coaster and now I feel like I've become the roller coaster.
Maybe I didn't realize how much a relationship was part of my life: the old, interesting life. I left a relationship with someone who was giving half-effort, to enter into "whateverthisis" with someone half-in.
It's so devastatingly simple.
When I picture my "ideal" life and situation, this is definitively not it. Now, what do I do to begin to pick up the pieces? I'm wedged in the tight space of a workaholic graduate student with barely enough energy to fulfill my end of the life obligations' deal I signed up for last August.
If I could just convince the pit in my chest that things aren't as bad as they seem. That i'm not as totally alone as I feel. That i'm not on an emotional island, looking around at miles of nothing and no one.
I re-read my entry from a couple of night's ago..I repeated "I want someone.." over and over again. Maybe I do want someone. That's the first sign I know things are off balance. I need to stop wanting..I need to just call it what it is and accept what it is not.
Yes I'm exhausted.
Yes I'm too busy.
Yes I'm overwhelmed.
Yes I'm a rollercoaster.
Yes I'm bored.
Yes I'm lonely.
Yes I'm alone.
No I'm not going to drop the ball.
No I don't want to believe getting my master's was a total waste of time
No I don't want to be believe that I'm settling too much
No I don't want to be believe that this is as good as it gets.
No I don't want to be HERE...in between all this chaos.
I do need to pick up my pieces. Pick my ego up off the floor, dust it off, and get going. I need to believe that life has something wonderful in store, and all this muck and darkness is just yet another experience to make me better than I was before. I need to remember who I am and what I'm all about.
Oh life, you've really kicked my ass this time.
Devastatingly simple.
Here's the saddest part. The real kicker if you will. After work today, I couldn't get home fast enough. I just wanted to be alone. Now, at 7:10 PM on Saturday night--I'm alone and all I want to really do is cry. Two months ago, I wanted to get off the roller coaster and now I feel like I've become the roller coaster.
Maybe I didn't realize how much a relationship was part of my life: the old, interesting life. I left a relationship with someone who was giving half-effort, to enter into "whateverthisis" with someone half-in.
It's so devastatingly simple.
When I picture my "ideal" life and situation, this is definitively not it. Now, what do I do to begin to pick up the pieces? I'm wedged in the tight space of a workaholic graduate student with barely enough energy to fulfill my end of the life obligations' deal I signed up for last August.
If I could just convince the pit in my chest that things aren't as bad as they seem. That i'm not as totally alone as I feel. That i'm not on an emotional island, looking around at miles of nothing and no one.
I re-read my entry from a couple of night's ago..I repeated "I want someone.." over and over again. Maybe I do want someone. That's the first sign I know things are off balance. I need to stop wanting..I need to just call it what it is and accept what it is not.
Yes I'm exhausted.
Yes I'm too busy.
Yes I'm overwhelmed.
Yes I'm a rollercoaster.
Yes I'm bored.
Yes I'm lonely.
Yes I'm alone.
No I'm not going to drop the ball.
No I don't want to believe getting my master's was a total waste of time
No I don't want to be believe that I'm settling too much
No I don't want to be believe that this is as good as it gets.
No I don't want to be HERE...in between all this chaos.
I do need to pick up my pieces. Pick my ego up off the floor, dust it off, and get going. I need to believe that life has something wonderful in store, and all this muck and darkness is just yet another experience to make me better than I was before. I need to remember who I am and what I'm all about.
Oh life, you've really kicked my ass this time.
Devastatingly simple.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.
The days all run together...
I should be annotating Frankenstein. I should be completing the paper work for Victim's compensation. I should be e-mailing my impact statement. I should be finishing my work for tomorrow. I should be doing anything but nothing.
I'm sitting at my desk, playing catch up on emotions. Emotional land mines. They come out of nowhere--these moments, that blow up, and everything in the landscape is altered afterward.
This was all a risk. What's the difference between a risk and a chance?
I sat across from him today, preparing myself for the words..that maybe to him..this, me and you, was all a mistake. A prodigious mistake. All I've wanted was for you to be sure of me. To take ownership, that what we have, is some kind of onceinalifetime wonderful. More than anything, I want to know that this is what you want. Maybe you don't have to, maybe it's the one given in this beautiful, complicated mess of two lives colliding.
I did not go into this blind--but I never innately felt that you and I wouldn't work out. Some part of me had a faith more powerful than my logic. In my gut, it's you and me against the world.
I cannot change your guilt or your desire to fix someone. I'm not broken, perhaps a little banged up by life, but I'll never expect you to glue back my broken parts. I'm not in this, wanting you to give me happiness or fill a void. I'm in this because of my feelings for you. Months ago, I stood before you and extended my heart in my hands. We could be an amazing team. I'll never treat you like a crutch, or expect you to carry me all the way. I'm here, and I'm yours. I want a partner. I want someone who is in this as much as I am.
Maybe I wasn't listening. Maybe I should have told you to come and find me when you were sure of me and us. Maybe I should have faith in us. Maybe I should get a black and white answer. I realize, in moments of emotional land mines, that I have no security. I'm just having a little faith in the universe..having a little faith in us and this insane connection. I'm just scared you're going to settle. I know that there is nothing I can do. I can't help that a little part of me died when you said that door wasn't totally closed, an abrupt slap of cold water in the face. It was a question that tumbled off my tongue, something I wrestled with asking. You know the questions you're not really prepared to ask? An answer you may not be ready to receive.
What am I supposed to do? What you decide and what you want are out of my control. I hate being a bystander in my own life. Is that inevitable?
You are not my boyfriend, you are not mine, but you're so much more than either of those things and I'd be lying if I said you weren't. You love me. When will you let me love you back?
I want someone who is crazy about me. I want someone who will not see their world the same way without me in it. I want someone who knows the goodness I bring into their life. I want someone who will want to make me smile when life is too serious. I want someone who will steal me away for a weekend alone. I want coffee in bed and kisses in the middle of the night. Evening runs and steamy showers. Salsa music while cooking something healthy in the kitchen, stealing kisses between samples and sips of wine. Someone who won't be able to keep their hands off of me--because you find me that attractive. I want a hand to hold mine, a hand that I can squeeze when life gets a little shaky. I want a partner. A life together, built on the belief that we're in this together. Words, spoken and written, that declare exactly how they feel about me. I want to be a priority. I want to come before anything else sometimes. I want someone who won't let me walk away from us. I want someone who doesn't want to be without me. Someone who will give me what I need. I want a nook. I want someone who when I ask them if I'm what they want...they stare at me as if that is the most unnecessary question in the world. I want to know I'm what they want. We're an us.
Life is not picture perfect..packed up tightly in boxes...but I don't want to be a maybe.
you love me..when will that be okay?
I'm sitting at my desk, playing catch up on emotions. Emotional land mines. They come out of nowhere--these moments, that blow up, and everything in the landscape is altered afterward.
This was all a risk. What's the difference between a risk and a chance?
I sat across from him today, preparing myself for the words..that maybe to him..this, me and you, was all a mistake. A prodigious mistake. All I've wanted was for you to be sure of me. To take ownership, that what we have, is some kind of onceinalifetime wonderful. More than anything, I want to know that this is what you want. Maybe you don't have to, maybe it's the one given in this beautiful, complicated mess of two lives colliding.
I did not go into this blind--but I never innately felt that you and I wouldn't work out. Some part of me had a faith more powerful than my logic. In my gut, it's you and me against the world.
I cannot change your guilt or your desire to fix someone. I'm not broken, perhaps a little banged up by life, but I'll never expect you to glue back my broken parts. I'm not in this, wanting you to give me happiness or fill a void. I'm in this because of my feelings for you. Months ago, I stood before you and extended my heart in my hands. We could be an amazing team. I'll never treat you like a crutch, or expect you to carry me all the way. I'm here, and I'm yours. I want a partner. I want someone who is in this as much as I am.
Maybe I wasn't listening. Maybe I should have told you to come and find me when you were sure of me and us. Maybe I should have faith in us. Maybe I should get a black and white answer. I realize, in moments of emotional land mines, that I have no security. I'm just having a little faith in the universe..having a little faith in us and this insane connection. I'm just scared you're going to settle. I know that there is nothing I can do. I can't help that a little part of me died when you said that door wasn't totally closed, an abrupt slap of cold water in the face. It was a question that tumbled off my tongue, something I wrestled with asking. You know the questions you're not really prepared to ask? An answer you may not be ready to receive.
What am I supposed to do? What you decide and what you want are out of my control. I hate being a bystander in my own life. Is that inevitable?
You are not my boyfriend, you are not mine, but you're so much more than either of those things and I'd be lying if I said you weren't. You love me. When will you let me love you back?
I want someone who is crazy about me. I want someone who will not see their world the same way without me in it. I want someone who knows the goodness I bring into their life. I want someone who will want to make me smile when life is too serious. I want someone who will steal me away for a weekend alone. I want coffee in bed and kisses in the middle of the night. Evening runs and steamy showers. Salsa music while cooking something healthy in the kitchen, stealing kisses between samples and sips of wine. Someone who won't be able to keep their hands off of me--because you find me that attractive. I want a hand to hold mine, a hand that I can squeeze when life gets a little shaky. I want a partner. A life together, built on the belief that we're in this together. Words, spoken and written, that declare exactly how they feel about me. I want to be a priority. I want to come before anything else sometimes. I want someone who won't let me walk away from us. I want someone who doesn't want to be without me. Someone who will give me what I need. I want a nook. I want someone who when I ask them if I'm what they want...they stare at me as if that is the most unnecessary question in the world. I want to know I'm what they want. We're an us.
Life is not picture perfect..packed up tightly in boxes...but I don't want to be a maybe.
you love me..when will that be okay?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
I was laying in bed just now, thinking about the direction my life is going..and all the things that have transpired recently. I started thinking about guardian angels and God. I thought about the silence that surrounded me that Sunday. Did you know that? The whole event, minus the beginning, was absolutely silent. Everything stopped. I just felt the most calm feeling wash over me at this realization--someone, something, was helping me that Sunday. Now, I'm not sure how much of this is "rational" based or what have you, but either way, regardless of "whatever" it is--I knew something was about to happen to me that night.
I never wanted to split up, I mentioned it 5 or 6 times, I'd rather stay together.
I took my time in the car, innately wanting to slow things down.
I hid my wallet in my possessions and made sure I was talking to someone as I went up the stairs.
I knew something was coming.
There's something to that silence that surrounded me that night. I still can't hear anything when I think about it. Just flashes. Silence.
I never wanted to split up, I mentioned it 5 or 6 times, I'd rather stay together.
I took my time in the car, innately wanting to slow things down.
I hid my wallet in my possessions and made sure I was talking to someone as I went up the stairs.
I knew something was coming.
There's something to that silence that surrounded me that night. I still can't hear anything when I think about it. Just flashes. Silence.
It's the familiar time of life--transition.
I packed up my beautiful, but heavy, books in crate boxes today. I went through like I was performing an execution--only certain books made the cut. I can't even really tell you how I judged them, other than split-second decisions about cover, literary merit, and readability. I'm moving in...3 weeks. I can't imagine being on my own. Firstly, because I'm not financially ready. I won't graduate until December--I'll be shoved out into the world, ready or not. I use graduate school as a beloved crutch to lean on, when people ask me what I do, it's a fall back. A well-worn, familiar, crutch.
In December, I'll have no excuses. Nothing keeping me here except for a lease that runs until the following October. I flip through the photos of my adventures; it's a reminder that there is a whole world of opportunity, waiting patiently. Then, I have this other side of me, the practical side...what about Bella? Bella is like my child, she is a responsibility.
Why is it whenever Kenny is coming home, I'm itching to start another adventure? We need to stop flip-flopping.
People used to ask that fateful question--where do you see yourself in 5 years?
In 5 years, I'll be 29 going on the big 3-0. Holy shit.
What an interesting place to be at--somehow, I ended back up at the beginning of starting my life. After graduation, I fled away to Spain. After Spain, I buried myself in books and graduate school. Now, I'm doing what I'm supposed to love and I'm wondering if there is some compromise to be made between kids, english, teaching and writing.
I want to publish a book.
I want to finish writing my story. I want it to be honest.
I don't want to fail.
I guess I shouldn't be worrying about 5 years from now, I barely know what to anticipate from the next few months.
You won't believe that last night we sat wedged in a diner booth, sharing a reese's milkshake, grumbling about our lack of forethought in consuming two cheeseburgers and a handful of french fries. I've never sat on the same side of the booth as anyone before. It's nice to really laugh and be in the moment. Afterward, we went and saw "The American" with George Clooney. We kissed like teenagers in the opening credits and before he dropped me off at my house. I'm not sure why awkward moments like this happen, but when we were talking in his truck, a group of 10 year olds took interest in our "car conversation" and kept trying to crawl up to the car. I eventually, with lack of impulse control, honked the horn and scared the crap out of them. Our serious moments are pepped with ridiculous shenanigans. Moments before, he stared at me, "I love you." After, he told me he had wanted to say "I love you" atleast 10x throughout the night--I asked why he hadn't...perhaps I'll never understand why it's so hard right now. He told me he can't believe how passionate he is about me, toward me, around me. I inquired if that implied he didn't "trust" it altogether, and he said a better way to say it is, he's never felt passionate like this before. I think our relationship is nothing but firsts. I'm going to attempt this whole celibacy thing..it's just easier until all things are out on the table and we're an "us." I wonder how long it'll last. It's a small effort to maintain some sort of control over the situation..and after all, nothing is better than delicious courtship.
In December, I'll have no excuses. Nothing keeping me here except for a lease that runs until the following October. I flip through the photos of my adventures; it's a reminder that there is a whole world of opportunity, waiting patiently. Then, I have this other side of me, the practical side...what about Bella? Bella is like my child, she is a responsibility.
Why is it whenever Kenny is coming home, I'm itching to start another adventure? We need to stop flip-flopping.
People used to ask that fateful question--where do you see yourself in 5 years?
In 5 years, I'll be 29 going on the big 3-0. Holy shit.
What an interesting place to be at--somehow, I ended back up at the beginning of starting my life. After graduation, I fled away to Spain. After Spain, I buried myself in books and graduate school. Now, I'm doing what I'm supposed to love and I'm wondering if there is some compromise to be made between kids, english, teaching and writing.
I want to publish a book.
I want to finish writing my story. I want it to be honest.
I don't want to fail.
I guess I shouldn't be worrying about 5 years from now, I barely know what to anticipate from the next few months.
You won't believe that last night we sat wedged in a diner booth, sharing a reese's milkshake, grumbling about our lack of forethought in consuming two cheeseburgers and a handful of french fries. I've never sat on the same side of the booth as anyone before. It's nice to really laugh and be in the moment. Afterward, we went and saw "The American" with George Clooney. We kissed like teenagers in the opening credits and before he dropped me off at my house. I'm not sure why awkward moments like this happen, but when we were talking in his truck, a group of 10 year olds took interest in our "car conversation" and kept trying to crawl up to the car. I eventually, with lack of impulse control, honked the horn and scared the crap out of them. Our serious moments are pepped with ridiculous shenanigans. Moments before, he stared at me, "I love you." After, he told me he had wanted to say "I love you" atleast 10x throughout the night--I asked why he hadn't...perhaps I'll never understand why it's so hard right now. He told me he can't believe how passionate he is about me, toward me, around me. I inquired if that implied he didn't "trust" it altogether, and he said a better way to say it is, he's never felt passionate like this before. I think our relationship is nothing but firsts. I'm going to attempt this whole celibacy thing..it's just easier until all things are out on the table and we're an "us." I wonder how long it'll last. It's a small effort to maintain some sort of control over the situation..and after all, nothing is better than delicious courtship.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Not mine just yet.
"I want to be sure of you."
I've always known that relationships are complicated. Up until this point, I never knew what the aftermath of battered feelings, guilt, and strings attached could feel like. Sometimes, the tension is palpable.
Standing in my kitchen Sunday morning, basking in the afterglow of passionate kisses and ignoring the shadow of words unsaid--You murmur, "I don't want to screw this up." I pause, studying you for a few moments--wrestling with the real emotions I feel, and the surface I portray. Giving in to my honest side, I move up to you, stand on my tippy toes and tell you "I'm here. I'm yours. There is nothing you can do to screw it up. Promise."
Rushing into something that feels as natural as sunset.
The night before, you pulled me onto your lap. You said I stopped talking about it. It, referring to Sunday. We were supposed to be talking about you...but you directed it to me. It didn't go unnoticed, even though I curled into you, dropping tears onto your t-shirt helplessly. I had no words, but I still think you heard me.
Our life together--a series of moments, the most bittersweet kind.
The car after a lunch time escape, facing each other--you tell me it's been 12 minutes and you haven't kissed me.
Our hideaway--we need to talk. My heart races. I'm going to lose you. You tell me that you want..what you need. You summarize yourself in some key points that i'll never forget..
Number one, you want to get married (not this year..but probably next year)
Number two, you want to have kids..you don't want to be an old man when it happens (you're 28 and I'm 24)
Number three, you're not interested in just "dating" anymore..you tell me all the time that you are a cranky old man (those are my words..not yours).
Number four, you had a life with someone else. You tell me something I try to forget all the time. You tell me that you are going to hate yourself for a while, because of the pain you are about to cause. You tell me that you will go through a period of being self-loathing and guilty...but then, you reiterate, that after that--you tell me, what I try not to forget (but sometimes do), the most important line, "I'm yours."
Tucked away in corner, you tell me that it was decided the moment we met. That fateful, fantastic summer night. It started out with American literature, and left with me ungluing myself from you. You threaten to kiss me, right then and there. That was the day I realized you and I might just have a chance.
The way the light hit your face at Cafe Pinot, I've never seen anyone look more handsome than you did. The intensity of your stare across the table--your eyes said everything, everything you still haven't told me.
Then the day you left, the day I realized how much I could lose. How much of me was invested in us. The rain pelts against the car window, my insides feel twisted--would you choose me? Would you choose us? Would you take a chance on something that could be great, or settle for good.
Shark week. We putz through the grocery store--two bumbling fools in love, wandering aimlessly. Distraction. We both look at the nutrition labels--thank god for you. You made me laugh; I wasn't nervous, I was floating. You stayed til 4 in the morning. We had our first kiss. 2 am, on the cement still hot from the day; delirious. I knew then, I never wanted to say goodbye to you. I realized that night how far we'd come. We sat outside in my backyard underneath the stars--6 hours of honest, no b.s: you, me, and the truth. I couldn't believe you were there. You were real.
The day I let you go, telling you in a note--the better version of myself, the selfless side. All my fears went away as you held me--it was 8:45 in the morning and it occurred to me then that I was wrong to think we were done, it was just the beginning.
Our symphony of air freshener. 24 hour Wal-Mart, one aisle, and the most fun two people have had picking out a room freshener. We've never smelled more unique than we did leaving that night. Thank you for that.
Sunday. My life was moving 1,000 miles per hour--the only thing I could see was you across the hallway: everything slowed down. I didn't call you, but you were there. You were the only person I needed that night. You made me feel safe. If you wouldn't have been on the phone with me when it all started...thank you.
The ugliest jar in the whole world...the search continues. I still believe the creepy teddy bear is the winner. Agree to disagree.
Rewind to the kitchen after you were gone, so elated to see you--such a mess around you, I forgot what I was doing and abruptly exited, tripping on my way out. You told me about Japanese literature and chivalry.
You, me and the world.
The things unsaid--when you look at me, it's just a feeling--you can see all of me, and you feel that i'm the person you're meant to be with. It still flips my stomach.
The most romantic kiss of my life. We closed down our Starbucks--oblivious to anyone else in the universe, we kissed underneath the summer rain...Everything. Stops. I've never felt more sure of you than I did that night.
I've always known that relationships are complicated. Up until this point, I never knew what the aftermath of battered feelings, guilt, and strings attached could feel like. Sometimes, the tension is palpable.
Standing in my kitchen Sunday morning, basking in the afterglow of passionate kisses and ignoring the shadow of words unsaid--You murmur, "I don't want to screw this up." I pause, studying you for a few moments--wrestling with the real emotions I feel, and the surface I portray. Giving in to my honest side, I move up to you, stand on my tippy toes and tell you "I'm here. I'm yours. There is nothing you can do to screw it up. Promise."
Rushing into something that feels as natural as sunset.
The night before, you pulled me onto your lap. You said I stopped talking about it. It, referring to Sunday. We were supposed to be talking about you...but you directed it to me. It didn't go unnoticed, even though I curled into you, dropping tears onto your t-shirt helplessly. I had no words, but I still think you heard me.
Our life together--a series of moments, the most bittersweet kind.
The car after a lunch time escape, facing each other--you tell me it's been 12 minutes and you haven't kissed me.
Our hideaway--we need to talk. My heart races. I'm going to lose you. You tell me that you want..what you need. You summarize yourself in some key points that i'll never forget..
Number one, you want to get married (not this year..but probably next year)
Number two, you want to have kids..you don't want to be an old man when it happens (you're 28 and I'm 24)
Number three, you're not interested in just "dating" anymore..you tell me all the time that you are a cranky old man (those are my words..not yours).
Number four, you had a life with someone else. You tell me something I try to forget all the time. You tell me that you are going to hate yourself for a while, because of the pain you are about to cause. You tell me that you will go through a period of being self-loathing and guilty...but then, you reiterate, that after that--you tell me, what I try not to forget (but sometimes do), the most important line, "I'm yours."
Tucked away in corner, you tell me that it was decided the moment we met. That fateful, fantastic summer night. It started out with American literature, and left with me ungluing myself from you. You threaten to kiss me, right then and there. That was the day I realized you and I might just have a chance.
The way the light hit your face at Cafe Pinot, I've never seen anyone look more handsome than you did. The intensity of your stare across the table--your eyes said everything, everything you still haven't told me.
Then the day you left, the day I realized how much I could lose. How much of me was invested in us. The rain pelts against the car window, my insides feel twisted--would you choose me? Would you choose us? Would you take a chance on something that could be great, or settle for good.
Shark week. We putz through the grocery store--two bumbling fools in love, wandering aimlessly. Distraction. We both look at the nutrition labels--thank god for you. You made me laugh; I wasn't nervous, I was floating. You stayed til 4 in the morning. We had our first kiss. 2 am, on the cement still hot from the day; delirious. I knew then, I never wanted to say goodbye to you. I realized that night how far we'd come. We sat outside in my backyard underneath the stars--6 hours of honest, no b.s: you, me, and the truth. I couldn't believe you were there. You were real.
The day I let you go, telling you in a note--the better version of myself, the selfless side. All my fears went away as you held me--it was 8:45 in the morning and it occurred to me then that I was wrong to think we were done, it was just the beginning.
Our symphony of air freshener. 24 hour Wal-Mart, one aisle, and the most fun two people have had picking out a room freshener. We've never smelled more unique than we did leaving that night. Thank you for that.
Sunday. My life was moving 1,000 miles per hour--the only thing I could see was you across the hallway: everything slowed down. I didn't call you, but you were there. You were the only person I needed that night. You made me feel safe. If you wouldn't have been on the phone with me when it all started...thank you.
The ugliest jar in the whole world...the search continues. I still believe the creepy teddy bear is the winner. Agree to disagree.
Rewind to the kitchen after you were gone, so elated to see you--such a mess around you, I forgot what I was doing and abruptly exited, tripping on my way out. You told me about Japanese literature and chivalry.
You, me and the world.
The things unsaid--when you look at me, it's just a feeling--you can see all of me, and you feel that i'm the person you're meant to be with. It still flips my stomach.
The most romantic kiss of my life. We closed down our Starbucks--oblivious to anyone else in the universe, we kissed underneath the summer rain...Everything. Stops. I've never felt more sure of you than I did that night.
Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.
Checking out the local retirement home...just in case you get out of hand.
Discovering my new makeout spot--the Scottsdale library; classy but literary at the same time. When you get out of hand, we'll drop you off at "The Home" (Shady Pines) after.
Frozen yogurt. Twice.. I thought we would stay frozen ourselves. Firstly, when you told me that you couldn't kiss me and touch me anymore..not because you didn't want to but because it wouldn't be right. You cannot give yourself to me. You are not yourself. I wrestle with what I want and what I can have. You are not mine just yet. Flash forward to the second time, the night after our first 'tense' moment. When was I going to invite you back to my house? I didn't know how to tell you then, but I was sorry I couldn't be the person you met 3 months before. She was fearless.
Sitting ontop of the world at Pinnacle Peak. I felt like that moment was meant just for us. I wish I could capture that moment in a jar and see it always.
Cholla trail. There are still no words, simply a smirk.
Sitting ontop of the world at Pinnacle Peak. I felt like that moment was meant just for us. I wish I could capture that moment in a jar and see it always.
Cholla trail. There are still no words, simply a smirk.
Last week, I told you that I forget where we are. We're still beginning.
You told me you fell in love with me. I stood against you, swallowing words--I never know if I can be sure of you, if you're ready for me.
In these series of moments I feel sure of us...and then other times I feel like you tell me you love me but hold me an arm's length away.
I know that we are in no hurry. building a foundation. You tell me I've met my match...and I often laugh at the truth in that statement. I still think i'm the likeable Golden Girl..and you are Blanche (she was the slut). I can't help but wish you were sure of us.
Not mine, just yet.
You told me you fell in love with me. I stood against you, swallowing words--I never know if I can be sure of you, if you're ready for me.
In these series of moments I feel sure of us...and then other times I feel like you tell me you love me but hold me an arm's length away.
I know that we are in no hurry. building a foundation. You tell me I've met my match...and I often laugh at the truth in that statement. I still think i'm the likeable Golden Girl..and you are Blanche (she was the slut). I can't help but wish you were sure of us.
Not mine, just yet.
Monday, September 6, 2010
To have and to hold.
What a weekend. What a day, what a week, what a month. What a year.
I sat nestled in a corner of Starbucks for the past two days, reviewing my sophomores short story unit and reading Frankenstein material. Approximately 500 pages later...I am feeling impressed, accomplished, and overwhelmed all at the same time. I am working on completing my upcoming Frankenstein unit; so my literary analysis and planning is about to consume my free time.
Teaching is sooo much work. It's true--you can make it as easy or as complicated as you want. The best teachers, are always getting more creative and tweaking material to make it just a LITTLE more interesting than it already was. I wish I had all the time in the world. I remember when I used to think I was busy, like this summer when I was working from 9-5 and then going to class from 6-10:30. I'm busier than I've ever been. I'm juggling on a bicycle and a huge stick was thrown in my spokes two weeks ago yesterday.
I'm supposed to write an impact statement since I'm too much of a coward to face him in court on September 20th. I don't want him to see my face, see my face declaring that he needs to be in jail, see my face twisted by the horror I experienced. No, I don't want him to see my face. The gift I have with my hands will have to suffice- it will have to be enough to convey why he is dangerous, and what he did to me, more importantly what he took from me. The person assigned to my case said, "Your impact statement should really emphasize how this experience has changed you." My chin drops when I think about it. My soul feels heavy. I've been avoiding this. My computer screen sits blank.
This "experience" has altered my life, an aberration nestled firmly in my memories. It sits out of place amongst the still images of my loved ones, embarrassing moments, and life experiences.
His rage, his aggression, flashes in my mind when I'm trying to teach a lesson, for a moment my heartbeat quickens and my chest feels like it has a bowling ball--I can't speak without my voice shaking. The feeling of him clawing at me, a feeling that makes my skin crawl flashes when the dozens of kids come rushing at me after a long day of school, wanting a hug I can't seem to give them yet. The feeling of the door breaking against the weight of my weakening body rushes to the forefront anytime I hear a pounding or sudden noise; it causes an instantaneous physical manifestation of wanting to vomit--the fear, the anxiety, the terror. The tunnel vision of sprinting down a dimly lit walkway, screaming for 'help' that never came. The feeling of utter helplessness as a man I'd never met began attacking me, fueled by an untapped level of rage I will never understand or forget.
When the pounding started, I called 911 with shaking hands, trying to be brave.
When the door started breaking through, I cried that I needed both my hands--I was going to face this alone, needing to be stronger than I physically was. Wanting to be anything other than a victim of a violent crime. Wanting to be anything other than a person spoken of in the past tense.
I thought of jumping off the balcony of the second floor apartment. I thought of getting a knife from the kitchen. I thought of hiding in the apartment. I had no time for anything; losing the struggle of keeping him out of the apartment. I was in a fight for my life, losing the battle, screaming for someone to save me, to help me. I will never forget the horror this stranger brought into my life: wedged between the wall and the door, clawing at me like a wild animal. A stranger I had never met. A stranger I had never spoken to. A stranger who was attacking me. A stranger who will stay with me, forever, in the mangled remains of my sense of strength and steady step.
I was a strong woman: the daughter of a single mother, mentor to a fantastic group of teenagers, teacher of English at a local high school. I was confident, happy, safe. I refuse to see myself as his victim; I protected myself, I was brave, I fought back, I got away. I refuse to believe that the stranger could be walking amongst the faceless crowd, continuing in his regular routine while my life remains on pause, each day bringing with it a violent series of jolts and sudden stops.
It hit me, Wednesday night, when I stared at the sliding glass door to the patio--waiting for someone to smash it and come after me. Waiting. Anticipating. Sucking in a deep breath of air, counting to 10. I left my dinner on the counter, and sat on the floor in the kitchen, wishing for someone to tell me it was safe. It hit me, Thursday night, when I rushed into my car in a parking lot, locking the door as fast as I could, placing my shaking fingers on the steering wheel--I can never get anywhere fast enough. I used to walk to my car leisurely, looking up at the stars, musing to myself at the peacefulness of evening in the desert.
I wish I was myself; the strong woman. If I was myself, I would have bravely told you my story in person--attempting to hide the evidence of my fear, trying to control my breaking voice and clasp my shaking hands out of sight. The past week, I have laid awake trying to come to terms with how this "aberration" has changed me. I shed tears of resentment and disappointment. I cry, because I wish I was not afraid to see his face, to tell him in person that he needs to be in prison. I cry, because I realize the distance between who I used to be and who I am now. I cry, because I already believe I see him in places, taking a deep breath and reminding myself that I'm safe, we're safe, because he is in jail.
I am not an expert on the ins and outs of the legal system, on how punishments are distributed; I am humbly a 24 year old graduate student who teaches high school English. I have faith in our justice system. I believe that he will not benefit from the fact that I was strong enough to fight back--strong enough to physically protect myself, smart enough to call 911 and brace the door, and lucky enough to somehow escape.
I sat nestled in a corner of Starbucks for the past two days, reviewing my sophomores short story unit and reading Frankenstein material. Approximately 500 pages later...I am feeling impressed, accomplished, and overwhelmed all at the same time. I am working on completing my upcoming Frankenstein unit; so my literary analysis and planning is about to consume my free time.
Teaching is sooo much work. It's true--you can make it as easy or as complicated as you want. The best teachers, are always getting more creative and tweaking material to make it just a LITTLE more interesting than it already was. I wish I had all the time in the world. I remember when I used to think I was busy, like this summer when I was working from 9-5 and then going to class from 6-10:30. I'm busier than I've ever been. I'm juggling on a bicycle and a huge stick was thrown in my spokes two weeks ago yesterday.
I'm supposed to write an impact statement since I'm too much of a coward to face him in court on September 20th. I don't want him to see my face, see my face declaring that he needs to be in jail, see my face twisted by the horror I experienced. No, I don't want him to see my face. The gift I have with my hands will have to suffice- it will have to be enough to convey why he is dangerous, and what he did to me, more importantly what he took from me. The person assigned to my case said, "Your impact statement should really emphasize how this experience has changed you." My chin drops when I think about it. My soul feels heavy. I've been avoiding this. My computer screen sits blank.
This "experience" has altered my life, an aberration nestled firmly in my memories. It sits out of place amongst the still images of my loved ones, embarrassing moments, and life experiences.
His rage, his aggression, flashes in my mind when I'm trying to teach a lesson, for a moment my heartbeat quickens and my chest feels like it has a bowling ball--I can't speak without my voice shaking. The feeling of him clawing at me, a feeling that makes my skin crawl flashes when the dozens of kids come rushing at me after a long day of school, wanting a hug I can't seem to give them yet. The feeling of the door breaking against the weight of my weakening body rushes to the forefront anytime I hear a pounding or sudden noise; it causes an instantaneous physical manifestation of wanting to vomit--the fear, the anxiety, the terror. The tunnel vision of sprinting down a dimly lit walkway, screaming for 'help' that never came. The feeling of utter helplessness as a man I'd never met began attacking me, fueled by an untapped level of rage I will never understand or forget.
When the pounding started, I called 911 with shaking hands, trying to be brave.
When the door started breaking through, I cried that I needed both my hands--I was going to face this alone, needing to be stronger than I physically was. Wanting to be anything other than a victim of a violent crime. Wanting to be anything other than a person spoken of in the past tense.
I thought of jumping off the balcony of the second floor apartment. I thought of getting a knife from the kitchen. I thought of hiding in the apartment. I had no time for anything; losing the struggle of keeping him out of the apartment. I was in a fight for my life, losing the battle, screaming for someone to save me, to help me. I will never forget the horror this stranger brought into my life: wedged between the wall and the door, clawing at me like a wild animal. A stranger I had never met. A stranger I had never spoken to. A stranger who was attacking me. A stranger who will stay with me, forever, in the mangled remains of my sense of strength and steady step.
I was a strong woman: the daughter of a single mother, mentor to a fantastic group of teenagers, teacher of English at a local high school. I was confident, happy, safe. I refuse to see myself as his victim; I protected myself, I was brave, I fought back, I got away. I refuse to believe that the stranger could be walking amongst the faceless crowd, continuing in his regular routine while my life remains on pause, each day bringing with it a violent series of jolts and sudden stops.
It hit me, Wednesday night, when I stared at the sliding glass door to the patio--waiting for someone to smash it and come after me. Waiting. Anticipating. Sucking in a deep breath of air, counting to 10. I left my dinner on the counter, and sat on the floor in the kitchen, wishing for someone to tell me it was safe. It hit me, Thursday night, when I rushed into my car in a parking lot, locking the door as fast as I could, placing my shaking fingers on the steering wheel--I can never get anywhere fast enough. I used to walk to my car leisurely, looking up at the stars, musing to myself at the peacefulness of evening in the desert.
I wish I was myself; the strong woman. If I was myself, I would have bravely told you my story in person--attempting to hide the evidence of my fear, trying to control my breaking voice and clasp my shaking hands out of sight. The past week, I have laid awake trying to come to terms with how this "aberration" has changed me. I shed tears of resentment and disappointment. I cry, because I wish I was not afraid to see his face, to tell him in person that he needs to be in prison. I cry, because I realize the distance between who I used to be and who I am now. I cry, because I already believe I see him in places, taking a deep breath and reminding myself that I'm safe, we're safe, because he is in jail.
I am not an expert on the ins and outs of the legal system, on how punishments are distributed; I am humbly a 24 year old graduate student who teaches high school English. I have faith in our justice system. I believe that he will not benefit from the fact that I was strong enough to fight back--strong enough to physically protect myself, smart enough to call 911 and brace the door, and lucky enough to somehow escape.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Further down the road--Bernard Fanning
I'm not afraid to say
I've had my ups and downs
On any other day
I'd run me out of town
Now I'm standing in the middle of a good dream
Try'n to figure what I do and don't need
Hoping I can give myself a good chance
Not too proud to show the spirit that I once had I
I've had my ups and downs
On any other day
I'd run me out of town
Now I'm standing in the middle of a good dream
Try'n to figure what I do and don't need
Hoping I can give myself a good chance
Not too proud to show the spirit that I once had I
I guess we'll wait for the night to fall
we'll Sleep right through to the breaking dawn
I guess we'll find out further down the road
we'll Sleep right through to the breaking dawn
I guess we'll find out further down the road
Will I have the strength to take
the opportunity when it comes
Am I laid to waste if I lose my nerve and run
Now I'm standing in the middle of a good dream
waiting on a number that I can't reach
Hoping I can give myself a good chance
And not too proud to say I'd love a little romance
the opportunity when it comes
Am I laid to waste if I lose my nerve and run
Now I'm standing in the middle of a good dream
waiting on a number that I can't reach
Hoping I can give myself a good chance
And not too proud to say I'd love a little romance
I Guess we'll wait for the night to fall
We'll Sleep right through to the breaking dawn
I Guess we'll find out further down the road
We'll Sleep right through to the breaking dawn
I Guess we'll find out further down the road
Ooh well I never let love sink its claws in me
Ooh all I ever asked was happiness for you
Ooh all I ever asked was happiness for you
Now I'm standing in the middle of a good dream
Waiting on a number that I can't reach I
I guess we'll wait for the night to fall
We'll sleep right through to the breaking dawn
I guess we'll find out further down the road
We'll sleep right through to the breaking dawn
I guess we'll find out further down the road
This feeling's worth its weight in gold
Just Praying for it to unfold
I guess we'll find out further down the road
Just Praying for it to unfold
I guess we'll find out further down the road
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