So my best friend of twenty years, Andrea, and I are going though some major relationship bullshit. You know how I now it's major? We're not really that young anymore. Her and I both have run the gauntlet. (Maybe her a little more than I; she's got a beautiful five year old daughter that I absolutely adore.) Regardless, we've seen each other through some cruddy times when it comes the end of our relationships with men.
I remember consoling each other after middle and high school breakups, and I sometimes wish we could go back to those simpler times. In college, life (and relationships) got a little more intense for both of us, and I remember when she broke up with her high school sweetheart. It was like the end of the world, and I was almost as devastated as she was. I remember thinking "If they didn't make it, is there hope for any of us?" How foolish I was.
When I was about 18, the shit hit the fan with the guy I had fallen for, the one I crushed on my entire senior year of high school. I had a mental breakdown in our friend Dara's parents' kitchen, and Andrea was right there counseling me and doing what best friends do. Granted, the guy overcame whatever obstacles he had been facing at the time and we ended up together for five years.
Fast forward to our mid-twenties - Andrea was getting married as I was breaking up with the guy I thought I wanted to marry. She and another close friend of ours were right there by my side as I endured the aftermath of the nastiest breakup of my life.
Fast forward another three years or so and I was floating along, single as hell, her marriage hit the rocks and never recovered. So there we were, coping with divorce before we were even out of our twenties. (And when I say "we," I mean it. Their divorce affected me almost as much as if it had been my own, because that's just how her and I roll.) So what the fuck? That's not how it's supposed to work! I had always admired the faith and the hope that Andrea invested in Love, so to see her in that kind of pain was unbearable, not to mention having to deal with the process of figuring out custody and new living arrangements. Life was not supposed to take that turn. My dearest friend was not supposed to have go through something like that.
Not long after the shock of that life changing event had subsided, the relationship I had with Buzzard blew up in my face. I can't decide if that was more difficult to cope with than when I had broken up with my ex, but it sure as hell sucked. And who was right there to get me back on my feet? Andrea.
Fast forward to the present - The morning after Philip broke up with me, I met her and her daughter at breakfast, not taking my sunglasses off because of how swollen my eyes were, weeping the entire time into my napkin. Just recently I got a text from her - things had come to blows with the guy she was seeing and the relationship has come to a halt, only to be revived if he makes some major changes that should have been taken care of a long time ago. At thirty years old, Andrea and I are both trying to pick up the pieces of our hearts that have been shattered by the end of yet another relationship.
The bottom line is that love doesn't get easier as we get older. It just gets harder and harder. We are doing our best to continue on with our lives, Andrea devoting everything she's got to her daughter and her job, I'm devoting all I've got to my nephew and my writing. But the pain is still there and we are sharing it as if we were one person.
We have hit the realization that we aren't in middle school anymore. We are having meaningful relationships that ultimately we want to last forever, but fate keeps throwing wrenches in that plan. It's not like we have awful taste in men either (well, I used to but have gotten a lot better at judging character.) It isn't until "shit gets real" that we discover our partners' true colors. Our concerns about "should I text him or should I not," "the anxiety I'm experiencing is killing me," "what did he mean when he said that," "I'm over analyzing this but I cannot control myself" are not comparable to what goes through a girl's head when she's still a teenager. Outsiders looking in may think we are crazy, but we know we're not. We're just going through the shit life throws at us, together.
I thank God for Andrea every day. She'll send me positive quotes at random and I send her funny ones back. We make each other laugh, we cry on each other's shoulders, we tell each other everything will work out, everything will be okay. We remind each other to keep on truckin' on the days we just can't get it together.
Is it fair? No. Is it life? Absolutely. We may not have quite figured it all out yet, but we can accept that we probably never will. If we ever do though, watch out because we will take over the world.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Yet I Still Love Him...
How the fuck am I supposed to resign myself to a life filled with boring partners? I mean, let's face it - chances are a lot higher now than they've ever been that I'm not going to find someone who I feel like I could spend forever with. He left me, remember?
So now what? Settle for men who strive to be complicated when really their only problem is that they choose to not open their mouths and speak their mind because they are afraid of what others may think? Settle for normalcy and complacency in this Godforsaken PC world? Fuck that. Give me blood, guts and chocolate cake. I'm not going to settle. I'd rather resign myself to a life of solitude than settle for something that doesn't get my blood pumping faster through my veins.
So what do I have to look forward to? Reverting back to an endless stream of lovers that do not stimulate my mind, much less my body? Men who figuratively - and sometimes literally just - "lay there?" Because no one knows what the fuck they want anymore. We put so much emphasis on this fact that it destroys us and the ones who love us.
It doesn't have to be this fucking hard.
The thought of returning to the world of an interesting mind yet a boring lover, or a boring mind yet an interesting lover? Makes me want to puke. I had the best of both worlds, I had paradise in my hands and then watched him reduce it to nothing but ashes.
As of yesterday, he and I have plans to see each other on Monday. I don't know what's going to come of it, but from what I can tell, he's planning on us going to a mutual friend's New Year's Eve party together. I could also be wrong about that. Whatever the case, I'm bracing myself for the worst.
So now what? Settle for men who strive to be complicated when really their only problem is that they choose to not open their mouths and speak their mind because they are afraid of what others may think? Settle for normalcy and complacency in this Godforsaken PC world? Fuck that. Give me blood, guts and chocolate cake. I'm not going to settle. I'd rather resign myself to a life of solitude than settle for something that doesn't get my blood pumping faster through my veins.
So what do I have to look forward to? Reverting back to an endless stream of lovers that do not stimulate my mind, much less my body? Men who figuratively - and sometimes literally just - "lay there?" Because no one knows what the fuck they want anymore. We put so much emphasis on this fact that it destroys us and the ones who love us.
It doesn't have to be this fucking hard.
The thought of returning to the world of an interesting mind yet a boring lover, or a boring mind yet an interesting lover? Makes me want to puke. I had the best of both worlds, I had paradise in my hands and then watched him reduce it to nothing but ashes.
As of yesterday, he and I have plans to see each other on Monday. I don't know what's going to come of it, but from what I can tell, he's planning on us going to a mutual friend's New Year's Eve party together. I could also be wrong about that. Whatever the case, I'm bracing myself for the worst.
Just Love Yourself, Dammit - If I Can Do It, So Can You
So of course I take part in social media like everyone else on the planet. My personal favorite is Twitter, but of course I have Facebook and Tumblr accounts as well.
Since my breakup I've backed off from cruising my various timelines, mostly Facebook, for a couple of reasons. One is I don't feel like seeing random people's happiness splayed all over the internet - unless it's a dear, dear friend or family member.
The other reason I've backed off is that I have become painfully aware all of these memes and quotes and blog posts, etc, that either pertain to my situation or make me think of him - they cross my line of sight, I read them, and it hurts. It really, really hurts. It takes all the willpower I've got to not forward them along to him.
One thing that is getting under my skin lately is all of the "I-may-be-difficult-but-I'm-worth-it" type quotes that are plastered everywhere. Why? Because it shouldn't have to be like that, and most of the time, it isn't. I used to think that of myself, but then I learned it simply isn't true. I am not a difficult person. My friends and everyone else that I love, the ex included, are not difficult people. But it doesn't make them worth my time any less. Yes, I love them all in spite of their idiosyncrasies and whatnot, but those things do not make them "difficult" or "weird" or "crazy." It disheartens me to think that we've become the "I-deserve-to-be-loved-even-though" generation. It should not be that way. We all deserved to be loved, plain and simple.
Maybe the mindset should be changed to "I-deserve-to-be-loved-BECAUSE-I-am-difficult." Or better yet, "I-am-NOT-difficult-and-am-STILL-worth-it."
Another thought that saddens me is that the people who truly feel this way, who feel that they are not easy to get along with or have so many internal issues that it makes them hard to accept being loved, have obviously had someone in their past, or even present, that caused them to feel this way. Why do we do this to each other?
What if we were to all walk around with healthy amounts of self esteem? What if we all believed we are worth someone's time and someone's love? Wouldn't things be a lot different? I know that I wouldn't want to be with a person who felt so awful about themselves. The best I could give them would be the love and support of a good friend.
Since my breakup I've backed off from cruising my various timelines, mostly Facebook, for a couple of reasons. One is I don't feel like seeing random people's happiness splayed all over the internet - unless it's a dear, dear friend or family member.
The other reason I've backed off is that I have become painfully aware all of these memes and quotes and blog posts, etc, that either pertain to my situation or make me think of him - they cross my line of sight, I read them, and it hurts. It really, really hurts. It takes all the willpower I've got to not forward them along to him.
One thing that is getting under my skin lately is all of the "I-may-be-difficult-but-I'm-worth-it" type quotes that are plastered everywhere. Why? Because it shouldn't have to be like that, and most of the time, it isn't. I used to think that of myself, but then I learned it simply isn't true. I am not a difficult person. My friends and everyone else that I love, the ex included, are not difficult people. But it doesn't make them worth my time any less. Yes, I love them all in spite of their idiosyncrasies and whatnot, but those things do not make them "difficult" or "weird" or "crazy." It disheartens me to think that we've become the "I-deserve-to-be-loved-even-though" generation. It should not be that way. We all deserved to be loved, plain and simple.
Maybe the mindset should be changed to "I-deserve-to-be-loved-BECAUSE-I-am-difficult." Or better yet, "I-am-NOT-difficult-and-am-STILL-worth-it."
Another thought that saddens me is that the people who truly feel this way, who feel that they are not easy to get along with or have so many internal issues that it makes them hard to accept being loved, have obviously had someone in their past, or even present, that caused them to feel this way. Why do we do this to each other?
 |
| It's heartbreaking to know people think this way. |
I have all the reason in the world to think I don't deserve to be loved. I have all the reason in the world right now to believe that I am difficult, I am strange, I am neurotic and downright unlovable. But you know what? I don't believe those things. Because I believe something that trumps all of those things -
I am an amazing person.
I am beautiful, inside and out.
I am lovable.
I am downright fantastic and fuck you if you can't see that.
Christmas Blues
I will probably bitch and complain about the holidays a lot this year. It doesn't mean I'm a total Scrooge, nor have I always been this way. There's a big reason why I'm just not feeling it.
I had planned on spending the holidays going to parties, driving around looking at Christmas lights, snuggling up in front of a fire watching Christmas movies, attending church services, going to Longwood Gardens, and exchanging gifts (some of which are sitting in the back bedroom until I figure out what to do with them) with the man I love. But all of those plans have gone down the shitter since he came to the realization that he can't love me back at this point and time in his life. So being newly single during the time of year everyone is posting pictures of themselves with their significant other doing wonderful Christmas-y things really fucking sucks.
I'm lonely and down in the dumps, along with probably more than half of the population I'm sure, but I'm not friends with or related to half of the population. I'm friends with and related to people who are not alone, people who have that someone to cuddle up to while watching Christmas Vacation.
I know, I know - wah wah wah. Whatever. I had it all and it slipped right through my fingers. The first Christmas party I attended this year was fun, I met some really nice people and didn't pay for one drink. The second party I attended, immediately following the first, was fun as well. I participated by making my delicious beer cheese soup and providing a homemade bottle of Limoncello that was given to me at the first party. (You could say it was a hit, because it was gone in less than an hour.) I remember announcing my arrival - "Ladies and gentleman, Snooki is here and she is trashed!"
By the time 2 am approached, I was sober and while driving home, regardless of the fun I had, the tears came on hard.
I don't want it to be this way. I didn't want to decorate the trees with a shitty attitude, but it has consumed me. I don't want to finish my Christmas shopping because I had to cross him off of my list. I don't want to bake because I just don't care, and it shows - about half of my cookies ended up burnt and now I'm even less enthusiastic about tackling the pizzelles.
I know it could be worse. I know there are people losing their loved ones this time of year; they can join my club. I don't have my father anymore, or my MomMom & PopPop. But don't think for one minute that I am not thankful for those I do have in my life, the ones helping me through the mess of my life this year. They are always there for me.
But still, I just want to crawl into bed and wait until it's all over. It hurts to see everyone so excited and happy and having a grand ole time while I'm on the sidelines, dead inside. At least I can put on a facade that still works on the untrained eye.
I had planned on spending the holidays going to parties, driving around looking at Christmas lights, snuggling up in front of a fire watching Christmas movies, attending church services, going to Longwood Gardens, and exchanging gifts (some of which are sitting in the back bedroom until I figure out what to do with them) with the man I love. But all of those plans have gone down the shitter since he came to the realization that he can't love me back at this point and time in his life. So being newly single during the time of year everyone is posting pictures of themselves with their significant other doing wonderful Christmas-y things really fucking sucks.
I'm lonely and down in the dumps, along with probably more than half of the population I'm sure, but I'm not friends with or related to half of the population. I'm friends with and related to people who are not alone, people who have that someone to cuddle up to while watching Christmas Vacation.
I know, I know - wah wah wah. Whatever. I had it all and it slipped right through my fingers. The first Christmas party I attended this year was fun, I met some really nice people and didn't pay for one drink. The second party I attended, immediately following the first, was fun as well. I participated by making my delicious beer cheese soup and providing a homemade bottle of Limoncello that was given to me at the first party. (You could say it was a hit, because it was gone in less than an hour.) I remember announcing my arrival - "Ladies and gentleman, Snooki is here and she is trashed!"
By the time 2 am approached, I was sober and while driving home, regardless of the fun I had, the tears came on hard.
I don't want it to be this way. I didn't want to decorate the trees with a shitty attitude, but it has consumed me. I don't want to finish my Christmas shopping because I had to cross him off of my list. I don't want to bake because I just don't care, and it shows - about half of my cookies ended up burnt and now I'm even less enthusiastic about tackling the pizzelles.
I know it could be worse. I know there are people losing their loved ones this time of year; they can join my club. I don't have my father anymore, or my MomMom & PopPop. But don't think for one minute that I am not thankful for those I do have in my life, the ones helping me through the mess of my life this year. They are always there for me.
But still, I just want to crawl into bed and wait until it's all over. It hurts to see everyone so excited and happy and having a grand ole time while I'm on the sidelines, dead inside. At least I can put on a facade that still works on the untrained eye.
When Paradise Becomes Dark
Yesterday morning I did two things I shouldn't have. I sat and listened to Lana Del Rey and then went through a big bag of my things that had come from my now former boyfriend's apartment. I had been avoiding both of those things specifically because Lana Del Rey's music was our thing - no one would understand and we don't care - and the bag contained items meant for no one but him, aside from a random assortment of clothes and toiletries I kept there.
I sobbed my eyes out on my bedroom floor for the millionth time as Lana's voice floated from the speakers, setting my guts on fire because my boyfriend, the man I loved, has ripped out my heart, torn it apart, and dropped it at my feet. It's still lying there and it's starting to rot. I'm tired of looking at it but I don't have the energy to pick it up and put it back where it belongs. No one wants it anyway, not even me.
I need answers.
Like how I could start to believe that our relationship was it, how it was the last one I ever wanted to be in when he wasn't feeling the same way.
Like how someone can shut their emotions down and wall up their heart, and even after two years of building trust and a bond with me that no one on the outside could have broken, still not let me in. How he told me I was perfect, I was the most amazing girlfriend, I was beautiful and just enough crazy for him, that I've done nothing wrong at all, and in the same breath tell me that right he can't give me what I need right now, so he had to let me go.
I don't fucking understand.
I'm 30 years old. I've grown exponentially over the last five years or so. I can confidently say that at this point I know what I want out of a relationship and I know what I need. Someone can tell me what they think I need, but they don't know. What I need is something I have lost, and it is him. What I need is everything he gave me - happiness and laughter, silly inside jokes, safety and comfort, mind-blowing, name-forgetting orgasms, a sense of peace, loads of self-confidence. I need it back, because without all of that, without him, I am empty. Completely empty.
He says not being able to love me right now is killing him. Well it fucking better, because I am already dead. Our relationship had been nothing but a natural progression, so I wasn't worried about him taking his time. I was happy to give it to him. But he realized he was being unfair to me and....and it just sucks. I have no control over this.
He says time and space is what he needs and I am giving that to him, as much as it is killing me. It's killing me to wonder where he is and what he's doing, to wonder if he has found solace in someone else's arms, not knowing what's going to happen to us. Every day is a struggle.
Before I left his house the night he ended our relationship, as I stood at the top of the stairs with tears running down my cheeks, I said the three little words that carry the weight of the world, because I knew if I didn't, I'd regret it.
"Whether you want to hear this or not, whether you can accept it or not, I love you. I never dreamed I'd be saying it under these circumstances, but I have to, and you have to hear it. I love you."
And then his tears started.
I thought I knew what heartbreak was. I thought I knew how bad it hurt. I had no fucking idea.
I sobbed my eyes out on my bedroom floor for the millionth time as Lana's voice floated from the speakers, setting my guts on fire because my boyfriend, the man I loved, has ripped out my heart, torn it apart, and dropped it at my feet. It's still lying there and it's starting to rot. I'm tired of looking at it but I don't have the energy to pick it up and put it back where it belongs. No one wants it anyway, not even me.
I need answers.
Like how I could start to believe that our relationship was it, how it was the last one I ever wanted to be in when he wasn't feeling the same way.
Like how someone can shut their emotions down and wall up their heart, and even after two years of building trust and a bond with me that no one on the outside could have broken, still not let me in. How he told me I was perfect, I was the most amazing girlfriend, I was beautiful and just enough crazy for him, that I've done nothing wrong at all, and in the same breath tell me that right he can't give me what I need right now, so he had to let me go.
I don't fucking understand.
I'm 30 years old. I've grown exponentially over the last five years or so. I can confidently say that at this point I know what I want out of a relationship and I know what I need. Someone can tell me what they think I need, but they don't know. What I need is something I have lost, and it is him. What I need is everything he gave me - happiness and laughter, silly inside jokes, safety and comfort, mind-blowing, name-forgetting orgasms, a sense of peace, loads of self-confidence. I need it back, because without all of that, without him, I am empty. Completely empty.
He says not being able to love me right now is killing him. Well it fucking better, because I am already dead. Our relationship had been nothing but a natural progression, so I wasn't worried about him taking his time. I was happy to give it to him. But he realized he was being unfair to me and....and it just sucks. I have no control over this.
He says time and space is what he needs and I am giving that to him, as much as it is killing me. It's killing me to wonder where he is and what he's doing, to wonder if he has found solace in someone else's arms, not knowing what's going to happen to us. Every day is a struggle.
Before I left his house the night he ended our relationship, as I stood at the top of the stairs with tears running down my cheeks, I said the three little words that carry the weight of the world, because I knew if I didn't, I'd regret it.
"Whether you want to hear this or not, whether you can accept it or not, I love you. I never dreamed I'd be saying it under these circumstances, but I have to, and you have to hear it. I love you."
And then his tears started.
I thought I knew what heartbreak was. I thought I knew how bad it hurt. I had no fucking idea.
My Continuing Pursuit of Happiness
As most of you know, I've been diligently spending the last year making positive changes in my life in order to be ready to take over the world mentally and physically when I turn 30. I'm proud of my progress and dedication, and things are finally falling into place. Why am I so proud? Because I've never really taken the initiative to buckle down and make serious changes in my life. I've always just let things run their course without making my own difference. "Either you're a part of the problem or you're a part of the solution." Well, this time I've decided to be a part of the solution and do everything in my power to change the things about myself and my life that I don't like. This chapter has begun with a new relationship, new mind, new job, and new body. Let's do a quick recap of the chain reaction of events that have brought to where I am right now.
It truly all started the day I walked out of Buzzard's life and simultaneously banished him from mine last April. That was one of the first steps I took to get my head clear. I couldn't do it with a buzzard circling above me, waiting to prey on my fragile heart and soul, and now it's gone. I stood by my guns and kept him at arms' length. Today when I get a text from concerning anything other than a "Hey, how are you?" I don't even bother to respond. I can honestly say I am finally free from the grasp of his talons. Standing firm in my decision to not let him get to me anymore has opened my heart to accept love I know I deserve. The other night Philip said the words I've been waiting to hear - "You've been the only one for a while now, and I'd like to keep it that way." Well, damn, baby, so would I! We are now exclusive and to quote 311 - my heart sings when I think of him. I get a big goofy smile on my face when I think about being all his and he being all mine. We are good for and good to each other. I could go on but I won't bore you all with details. Well, maybe in another post later.
I consciously made the decision to keep my outlook on life positive. Sure, some days I still get down and the urge to stay in bed is strong, but I overcome it. I realized, after years of suffering from anxiety and depression that my life is what I make of it and what I do with it. Struggles still plague me every once in a while, but how I decide to handle them is more powerful than the effect they have on me.
My last job was making me miserable, so I buckled down, persevered, and now I have a great new job with a set schedule, benefits, and a 401K. It's a job that challenges me in ways I have dearly missed, with a company I can see a future with. The impact this positive change has had on me is incredible. After the first week, Philip could already tell that my demeanor was happier and not as stressed out like he was used to.
I've made it a point to continue to get into better shape and eat healthier. My body has changed drastically over the last four years and I want to keep it up - for myself and no one else. I've been a dedicated member of a gym since last November and I make it a point to go, at the very least, three times a week. I've been weight training and running between four and six miles on the elliptical and just recently started noticing the benefits - my arms and legs (and even my belly!) are toning up and I'm not winded when I run up three flights of stairs.
Since I managed to get an exercise routine down, I took it to the next level and started counting calories. I realized that was the only way I was going to learn to eat better and shed this belly of mine that makes me self conscious. Let me tell you, it is not easy. But it's easier than balancing a budget for sure. I started using the LoseIt! app on my cell phone, logging everything I eat and any exercise I do each day. The main benefit of this app is getting a visual of how good (or bad) the food and beverages I consume are for me. I'm sticking to a 1400 calorie per day budget in order to drop 20 pounds by mid June. Extreme? A little. But I have the mentality that I can do it. Am I denying myself little pleasures like beer and chocolate? Hell no. I weighed myself yesterday and have lost 4 pounds since March 29th.
So this is where I am in my life right now and I wanted to share it with you. After enduring nothing but pain and darkness for so long, I am closer to the light at the end of the tunnel than ever before. I know my father is beaming down from Heaven with pride.
It truly all started the day I walked out of Buzzard's life and simultaneously banished him from mine last April. That was one of the first steps I took to get my head clear. I couldn't do it with a buzzard circling above me, waiting to prey on my fragile heart and soul, and now it's gone. I stood by my guns and kept him at arms' length. Today when I get a text from concerning anything other than a "Hey, how are you?" I don't even bother to respond. I can honestly say I am finally free from the grasp of his talons. Standing firm in my decision to not let him get to me anymore has opened my heart to accept love I know I deserve. The other night Philip said the words I've been waiting to hear - "You've been the only one for a while now, and I'd like to keep it that way." Well, damn, baby, so would I! We are now exclusive and to quote 311 - my heart sings when I think of him. I get a big goofy smile on my face when I think about being all his and he being all mine. We are good for and good to each other. I could go on but I won't bore you all with details. Well, maybe in another post later.
I consciously made the decision to keep my outlook on life positive. Sure, some days I still get down and the urge to stay in bed is strong, but I overcome it. I realized, after years of suffering from anxiety and depression that my life is what I make of it and what I do with it. Struggles still plague me every once in a while, but how I decide to handle them is more powerful than the effect they have on me.
My last job was making me miserable, so I buckled down, persevered, and now I have a great new job with a set schedule, benefits, and a 401K. It's a job that challenges me in ways I have dearly missed, with a company I can see a future with. The impact this positive change has had on me is incredible. After the first week, Philip could already tell that my demeanor was happier and not as stressed out like he was used to.
I've made it a point to continue to get into better shape and eat healthier. My body has changed drastically over the last four years and I want to keep it up - for myself and no one else. I've been a dedicated member of a gym since last November and I make it a point to go, at the very least, three times a week. I've been weight training and running between four and six miles on the elliptical and just recently started noticing the benefits - my arms and legs (and even my belly!) are toning up and I'm not winded when I run up three flights of stairs.
Since I managed to get an exercise routine down, I took it to the next level and started counting calories. I realized that was the only way I was going to learn to eat better and shed this belly of mine that makes me self conscious. Let me tell you, it is not easy. But it's easier than balancing a budget for sure. I started using the LoseIt! app on my cell phone, logging everything I eat and any exercise I do each day. The main benefit of this app is getting a visual of how good (or bad) the food and beverages I consume are for me. I'm sticking to a 1400 calorie per day budget in order to drop 20 pounds by mid June. Extreme? A little. But I have the mentality that I can do it. Am I denying myself little pleasures like beer and chocolate? Hell no. I weighed myself yesterday and have lost 4 pounds since March 29th.
So this is where I am in my life right now and I wanted to share it with you. After enduring nothing but pain and darkness for so long, I am closer to the light at the end of the tunnel than ever before. I know my father is beaming down from Heaven with pride.
We'll Call It A Hiccup
Okay so for a minute I thought the buzzard was trying to make his way back home. I've determined that no, he isn't, and even if he was, there's no chance in hell I'd let him. (The latter was always a definite.) The other day we had breakfast and spent the entire afternoon together. I had a hard time reading his thoughts or even his mood. Still couldn't figure out what he wanted with me - if it was anything other than sex, which is always the case with him and something he wasn't going to get.
It's not always an easy lesson to learn that some things never change. I ended up finding out a few days later what he was hiding from me, (I mean, it's not that hard - people talk,) and if I had known then what I know now, I never would have even given him the chance to be sitting across the table from me.
I wanted desperately to call him out on it in the meanest way possible. But that's just not how I roll. Instead, the other night, I went about it in a sneaky way, a way he would be responsive to. Judging from our conversation, he confirmed the little tidbit that I already knew without coming out and saying it. I've known the man for five years and his behavior has become pretty easy for me to predict.
Obviously this cycle seems never ending. Whatever. We all have our vices, and mine just happens to be a tattooed, middle aged, brick shithouse of a biker that found his way into my heart and doesn't seem to want to leave.
I realized something - he won't let me go. I've let him go, I've walked away and stayed away. He isn't capable of it. He always comes back and I have no idea why. If I l can eradicate him from my life and move on, why can't he? I'll never know the answer because he won't come out and tell me what it is about me that keeps him holding on. I mean, come on, it's not like I'm the best lover he's ever had, or even the prettiest one....well, maybe the prettiest...but that's no reason to hold on to something. He won't give me the satisfaction of hearing what every girl wants to hear, the satisfaction of hearing the reasons why he can't let go, something along the lines of "I love you, I can't get you out of my head, you made my life better, you're beautiful, I'm addicted to you, you make me feel safe, I love your company, etc." That kind of shit is too hard for him to say out loud.
Regardless, I erased the text messages and phone calls from the past few weeks. Don't try to come back into my life only to have me discover you kicked one psycho out of your house and promptly let another one move in. You really think I'm that stupid? No wonder he didn't want to go home after breakfast that day. If I had some piece of trash taking advantage of me and living in my home with her deadbeat son, I wouldn't want to go back there either. All of those adages are applicable here - don't shit where you eat, you made your bed, now you have to lie in it...on and on.
I never put his number back into my contacts and it's not memorized. (Thank goodness for these days of not having to memorize them because of the convenience of cell phones.) So we'll call it a hiccup. They happen, it's all in how we handle them, and this time I'm patting myself on the back for doing such a good job.
It's not always an easy lesson to learn that some things never change. I ended up finding out a few days later what he was hiding from me, (I mean, it's not that hard - people talk,) and if I had known then what I know now, I never would have even given him the chance to be sitting across the table from me.
I wanted desperately to call him out on it in the meanest way possible. But that's just not how I roll. Instead, the other night, I went about it in a sneaky way, a way he would be responsive to. Judging from our conversation, he confirmed the little tidbit that I already knew without coming out and saying it. I've known the man for five years and his behavior has become pretty easy for me to predict.
Obviously this cycle seems never ending. Whatever. We all have our vices, and mine just happens to be a tattooed, middle aged, brick shithouse of a biker that found his way into my heart and doesn't seem to want to leave.
I realized something - he won't let me go. I've let him go, I've walked away and stayed away. He isn't capable of it. He always comes back and I have no idea why. If I l can eradicate him from my life and move on, why can't he? I'll never know the answer because he won't come out and tell me what it is about me that keeps him holding on. I mean, come on, it's not like I'm the best lover he's ever had, or even the prettiest one....well, maybe the prettiest...but that's no reason to hold on to something. He won't give me the satisfaction of hearing what every girl wants to hear, the satisfaction of hearing the reasons why he can't let go, something along the lines of "I love you, I can't get you out of my head, you made my life better, you're beautiful, I'm addicted to you, you make me feel safe, I love your company, etc." That kind of shit is too hard for him to say out loud.
Regardless, I erased the text messages and phone calls from the past few weeks. Don't try to come back into my life only to have me discover you kicked one psycho out of your house and promptly let another one move in. You really think I'm that stupid? No wonder he didn't want to go home after breakfast that day. If I had some piece of trash taking advantage of me and living in my home with her deadbeat son, I wouldn't want to go back there either. All of those adages are applicable here - don't shit where you eat, you made your bed, now you have to lie in it...on and on.
I never put his number back into my contacts and it's not memorized. (Thank goodness for these days of not having to memorize them because of the convenience of cell phones.) So we'll call it a hiccup. They happen, it's all in how we handle them, and this time I'm patting myself on the back for doing such a good job.
Emotional Unavailability Is Bullshit
I don't get it and I never will, I know that much. My life has become significantly less complicated since I've whittled down the number of lovers I have at any given time to a very, very small one. But that's not to say the ones I keep close don't throw me into a spin every once in a while. I've been played the "emotionally unavailable" card 4 times in the past year, and I just don't get it. I'm actually starting to think it's a cop out. It's easier than saying, I like you, but not enough to pursue something more significant with you.
The first time I was handed this line, I accepted it without too much hesitation, although I was somewhat devastated upon hearing it. Okay, you've got a lot of shit floating around in your head, I understand where you're coming from. I really can't blame you, thanks for your honesty.
The second time it came from the infamous Buzzard. Yeah, yeah, fuck you and your "issues." You figured it would just be easier to tell me that you were unable to give me what I needed out of a relationship as opposed to flat-out saying, "I don't want a girlfriend, I just want to fuck bitches." Because honestly honey, everybody knows at this point that that's all you care about. You don't have "issues," you're just a sleazy old man now that eventually no woman is going to want. Especially once your prick falls off.
The third time I got the line, I hadn't expected to feel the way I was starting to about the other person involved. We started out as casual lovers, and things escalated as we started spending more time together. I liked how he made me feel, how much fun we had together, and his happy-go-lucky approach to life. He was very attentive to my needs, respectful and honest with me. So I laid it out on the table for him, prepared for whatever he handed back to me. And of course, it was the same spiel. Okay, I understand work is kicking your ass and owning a business can stress you out to the max. Yes, it sucks that the last relationship you were in ended badly, but so did mine. It hasn't stopped me from being receptive when something better comes my way. But if you claim you like being with me, we can't deny how mind-blowing the sex is and that we both feel at ease with each other, yet you can't make room for me in your life, then there's nothing I can do about it. Thanks for your honesty. Time for me to move on.
The fourth time I heard this line, I was actually a little surprised. It came up in casual conversation, not in terms of, "This is what I want and this is what I think it should be," when referring to a relationship. I may feel as though I've been a little misled, but I'm not hurt, nor have I ever been hurt by this person. I looked straight at him and replied, "If I made myself emotionally unavailable, if I put up a wall and refused to ever let anyone in at all, I'd miss out on so much. Yes, it's risky, but my life has been enriched by the relationships I've had." I personally think you need to move on because you deserve better. I don't like the way she hurt you and I don't think you have any valid reasons for wanting her back other than the fact that you grew accustomed to her being around. I don't expect you to move right on to me, you need to do it for yourself. Whether or not I fit into your future is a moot point.
Maybe I feel this way because when my last full-blown, intent-to-marry, relationship ended, I was the one who dealt it the final blow. I made the decision to end it, I dropped the bomb and literally ran the other way. I cut off all communication, I didn't want anything from him, I left all kinds of shit at his house, which was returned to me one way or another through mutual friends without ever having to see each other face to face. I knew it was the only way.
These people who keep going back to the scene of the crime make me sick. No wonder you're miserable. No wonder you're cynical. No wonder you come to believe you are "emotionally unavailable." If my ex was able to rebuild the shambles I left his life in, then you can too. If I was able to walk away from Buzzard, then you can walk away from the person who poisons your very soul.
Fuck this being emotionally unavailable. I'm here to love everyone who crosses my path at different times, or all at the same time, what's it matter? These four specific experiences have only made me stronger and more aware of what it is I want out of life and out of love. To break it down,
The first time I was handed this line, I accepted it without too much hesitation, although I was somewhat devastated upon hearing it. Okay, you've got a lot of shit floating around in your head, I understand where you're coming from. I really can't blame you, thanks for your honesty.
The second time it came from the infamous Buzzard. Yeah, yeah, fuck you and your "issues." You figured it would just be easier to tell me that you were unable to give me what I needed out of a relationship as opposed to flat-out saying, "I don't want a girlfriend, I just want to fuck bitches." Because honestly honey, everybody knows at this point that that's all you care about. You don't have "issues," you're just a sleazy old man now that eventually no woman is going to want. Especially once your prick falls off.
The third time I got the line, I hadn't expected to feel the way I was starting to about the other person involved. We started out as casual lovers, and things escalated as we started spending more time together. I liked how he made me feel, how much fun we had together, and his happy-go-lucky approach to life. He was very attentive to my needs, respectful and honest with me. So I laid it out on the table for him, prepared for whatever he handed back to me. And of course, it was the same spiel. Okay, I understand work is kicking your ass and owning a business can stress you out to the max. Yes, it sucks that the last relationship you were in ended badly, but so did mine. It hasn't stopped me from being receptive when something better comes my way. But if you claim you like being with me, we can't deny how mind-blowing the sex is and that we both feel at ease with each other, yet you can't make room for me in your life, then there's nothing I can do about it. Thanks for your honesty. Time for me to move on.
The fourth time I heard this line, I was actually a little surprised. It came up in casual conversation, not in terms of, "This is what I want and this is what I think it should be," when referring to a relationship. I may feel as though I've been a little misled, but I'm not hurt, nor have I ever been hurt by this person. I looked straight at him and replied, "If I made myself emotionally unavailable, if I put up a wall and refused to ever let anyone in at all, I'd miss out on so much. Yes, it's risky, but my life has been enriched by the relationships I've had." I personally think you need to move on because you deserve better. I don't like the way she hurt you and I don't think you have any valid reasons for wanting her back other than the fact that you grew accustomed to her being around. I don't expect you to move right on to me, you need to do it for yourself. Whether or not I fit into your future is a moot point.
Maybe I feel this way because when my last full-blown, intent-to-marry, relationship ended, I was the one who dealt it the final blow. I made the decision to end it, I dropped the bomb and literally ran the other way. I cut off all communication, I didn't want anything from him, I left all kinds of shit at his house, which was returned to me one way or another through mutual friends without ever having to see each other face to face. I knew it was the only way.
These people who keep going back to the scene of the crime make me sick. No wonder you're miserable. No wonder you're cynical. No wonder you come to believe you are "emotionally unavailable." If my ex was able to rebuild the shambles I left his life in, then you can too. If I was able to walk away from Buzzard, then you can walk away from the person who poisons your very soul.
Fuck this being emotionally unavailable. I'm here to love everyone who crosses my path at different times, or all at the same time, what's it matter? These four specific experiences have only made me stronger and more aware of what it is I want out of life and out of love. To break it down,
- If I had put my guard up after I left my ex, I would have never started down the path of self discovery.
- If I hadn't gone through every bit of emotional trauma caused by Buzzard, I wouldn't be nearly as strong as I am today. I still wouldn't know that I deserve to be treated with respect, and telling Buzzard to fuck off was how I learned it.
- I know now that it's not the end of the world if a partner doesn't feel the same way I do. I've learned acceptance, and also that I can't control another human being's emotions. If they don't want the same things, then it's time to move on.
- It's all about balance. When my fourth experience with the E-U card came, I pretty much blew it off. I was only able to do so because the relationship I have with this person is something of an anomaly. We are equal parts friends and lovers, cut and dry. There's no using or being used because we both genuinely care about each other and have for a long time.
Ode to Buzzard - If You Ever Really Loved Me
I wrote this a few months ago, and as far as an update on my tumultuous relationship with Buzzard - it is completely, 100 percent done and finished. It is over. He is no longer a part of my life. Maybe one day I'll go into detail, but I'm still in the grieving process over the death of our relationship. It was ugly, nasty and everything I didn't want it to be, but I am now able to breath, I am able to sleep, I can eat, I can laugh, I no longer have a cloud of doom hanging over my head.
I don't think you really love me.
If you truly loved me, you'd show it.
You'd fight for me instead of pushing me away.
If you truly loved me,
You wouldn't always be keeping your eye out for the next conquest.
If you truly loved me,
You'd realize that sleeping with 100 women doesn't make you a man,
that fighting for one while 99 others are chasing you is what makes you a man.
If you truly loved me, you wouldn't hurt me.
You would put aside whatever "bullshit" you're dealing with
in order to be with me.
I can no longer fight, I have become too weak.
I can't force you to make a decision.
And if you truly loved me,
you wouldn't force me to make the decision to walk away.
So I guess you don't really love me.
If you truly loved me,
you'd step up to the plate and be a fucking man,
you'd be the man I need instead of telling me that you can't be.
Instead you're throwing me away because you're scared.
So I guess you really don't love me.
I can't save you nor do I want to.
You don't need saving.
I hope a part of you dies every time you think about me.
I've told you everything, I've given you everything,
but you don't want it and you've proved that to me.
Because if you wanted it, it wouldn't be this hard.
So I guess you don't really love me.
Through all of this I still believe that love is the strongest force
that propels us as human beings.
You obviously don't feel the same way,
because if you did I wouldn't be lying on the floor
with a broken, bleeding heart
wondering how I am going to survive every fucking minute
of every awful day without you.
So I guess you don't really love me.
I took off the ring and put it away
with all of the other tokens from men who disappointed me.
Just another symbol of failure
to add to my collection.
Gimme Some Sugar, Baby, Part V
While my emotions were still in a constant state of panic and uproar the year I broke up with my first love, I experienced the second one night stand that would change my world forever. I was 24. It was the beginning of a long, arduous journey of a torrid love affair, full of treachery, infidelity, sex and more sex, (yes, I'll admit it, some of the best sex I've ever had,) heartbreak, mind-fuckery and self-discovery. If I had known that the first night I spent with this man would have shaped the woman I was to become three years later, would I still have done it? At this moment, the answer is simply, "I don't know."
He taught me more than I'd like to admit, about specific kinds of sex, about life, about the importance of honesty, about myself. He opened me up to entirely new worlds that I would not have discovered if it weren't for him, or I would have explored on my own and ended up hurt in more ways than I want to even think about.
To this day I am still attached to him, but on much less complicated terms. It's not easy to cast him into the sea of forgotten lovers when we know each other's minds and bodies all too well. When we know what makes each other tick. When we know what to do to make each other come and just how to do it. Right now I don't think I could even if I wanted to.
So we continue along as friends with benefits, sneaking around like we're in high school because of the drama that he seems to attract so well. At the moment, he's the only guy I have on speed-dial, and I'd rather be sleeping with him than going out and looking for quick fixes that won't mean anything the next morning.
He taught me more than I'd like to admit, about specific kinds of sex, about life, about the importance of honesty, about myself. He opened me up to entirely new worlds that I would not have discovered if it weren't for him, or I would have explored on my own and ended up hurt in more ways than I want to even think about.
To this day I am still attached to him, but on much less complicated terms. It's not easy to cast him into the sea of forgotten lovers when we know each other's minds and bodies all too well. When we know what makes each other tick. When we know what to do to make each other come and just how to do it. Right now I don't think I could even if I wanted to.
So we continue along as friends with benefits, sneaking around like we're in high school because of the drama that he seems to attract so well. At the moment, he's the only guy I have on speed-dial, and I'd rather be sleeping with him than going out and looking for quick fixes that won't mean anything the next morning.
Gimme Some Sugar, Baby, Part IV
My senior year of high school, and most of my first year of college, consisted of those meaningless one night stands. Sex was still new to me, but I learned early how to separate my heart from my cunt. The first one night stand that knocked me down for the count ended up being the first man I ever loved. We flirted and teased each other all throughout my senior year, the anticipation had built up immensely and we finally slept together for the first time the night before I moved away to college. I had just turned 18.
I was torn up over him for two years. Two years that were sprinkled with random meetings between us where we would hang out and we would fuck. I did my best to get involved with and/or sleep with other men just to forget about him. It took two years for him to realize how much he truly did care for me and we began building a life together the summer I graduated college. What had started out as physical attraction turned into an emotional connection and the sex got better before it got worse. We loved and learned about each others' bodies, he was the first guy I was comfortable enough with to let my guard down completely, and he was the first one to ever give me an orgasm.
The relationship lasted five years, which, in your early twenties, is equal to a lifetime. Unfortunately, towards the end of the fifth year, the ship started sinking, and I bailed.
To be continued...
I was torn up over him for two years. Two years that were sprinkled with random meetings between us where we would hang out and we would fuck. I did my best to get involved with and/or sleep with other men just to forget about him. It took two years for him to realize how much he truly did care for me and we began building a life together the summer I graduated college. What had started out as physical attraction turned into an emotional connection and the sex got better before it got worse. We loved and learned about each others' bodies, he was the first guy I was comfortable enough with to let my guard down completely, and he was the first one to ever give me an orgasm.
The relationship lasted five years, which, in your early twenties, is equal to a lifetime. Unfortunately, towards the end of the fifth year, the ship started sinking, and I bailed.
To be continued...
How Much Do I Love My Girls? Let Me Count the Ways
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| In the subway after a show at the Highline Ballroom |
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| This girl is amazing, my road dawg from college |
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| We can never keep our tongues in our mouths |
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| It's a family affair |
How Much Do I Love My Boys? Let Me Count the Ways
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| Toga Toga Toga! |
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| Go Phils! |
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| I really don't have any words... |
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| Halloween 2010 could have passed for White Trash Senior Prom 2010 |
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