someone's terribly inevitable life story, maybe mine

So, the trainees are busy with an exercise, so I have a few minutes to entertain myself, and I must say, I have done so quite well. The following is an article I found on tRCMB (the Red Cedar Message Board - for MSU Spartans, mostly athletics, and often a vulgar, ridiculous place, IMO) and couldn't resist re-posting.

How to use an apostrophe

( An excerpt, for the linkphobic, and a few more ramblings )

It seems I'm much better at dealing with other's problems than I am at looking at my own.

Since he left (it's been over two weeks now) I've spent a lot of time helping everyone around me (IRL and online) deal with their various maladies and mishaps, but hardly any time grieving or figuring out myself.  Which, in the end, isn't necessarily a bad thing.  I think I'm much better at helping others than I am at thinking things through...and right now, things are so messy, it's hard to say for sure what it is I want, need, or feel.

 

Hell, I even got an email from him, for the first time, the other day, and immediately went into therapist mode.  I'm great at analyzing why, and what, and how...for everyone else.  And it sucks, because I can see all the things that are wrong, all the mistakes he's made / is making / is going to make, but he never actually follows through on the advice he asks for.  And that's the crux of the matter - talking to our mutual friends is making me realize, more and more, that I'm not sure he really wants a solution.  Because the solution doesn't match up to the fantasy in his head, and more than that, it doesn't give him an excuse to stay down and feel like everything is terrible and impossible.  And maybe some of that is the BPD, but certainly not all of it.  So he makes these big plans, and talks a big game...and then falls down on the job, and goes right back to doing what he does best...which, as far as I can see, is being miserable.

 

And that's part of the reason it all hurts so much.  More than just because I'm a fixer, but because I really do love him, I really want him to get his shit together.  I really want him to have a good life, and to see his kids, and to form functioning relationships with his family.  But he doesn't know how, and my way is apparently too hard. 

 

So what now?  Because I certainly don't know what to do next, while I sit around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
 

At the moment, I'm completely torn.  I feel like my head and my heart are at war...my head telling me to stay strong, to know this is for the best, and so on...my heart just keeps screaming that I'm an idiot for letting go, for saying goodbye, even if part of me thinks it's what was best...part of me just can't stop worrying that I let you go off to make a mistake, one that may take you far too long to see for yourself.

And you’ve left a hole behind, in the hearts of your dearest friends, the ones who loved you when no one else did, who have picked you up, time and time again, when you needed that help.  The ones who will still be here if and when you need help again, because it’s what we do, it’s all we know.  The ones who will never fully understand and have already shed tears for your loss, and ours.

All of this thinking, all of the talking with a good friend last night…led my thoughts to forgiveness.  For whatever reason, it’s something I sometimes come by almost too easily.  I’m the person that forgives (I won’t say I forget, but I do forgive) in situations where others would hold a grudge for untold lengths of time.  Even in situations where others (or even I) think me (myself) a fool for my forgiveness.  I’ve just never been able to see the point of hanging on to those negative feelings, that pettiness and spite.

Either the person hurt me so badly that even with forgiveness, I’m done and must walk away.  In those situations, holding a grudge only ties us together more strongly, and will not let me forget what they’ve done.  It only punishes me, because I’m the one consumed by that grudge, that resentment.


Or, whatever the offense, either it is too small for resentment, or I love the person who hurt me too much to hold that resentment.  In those cases, forgiveness again leads to freedom, but here, it’s the freedom to continue to explore that relationship, in whatever form it takes.


In this instance, forgiveness has allowed me to say goodbye in a way that I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to, and has allowed me to grieve, to think more clearly, and to give advice that was sorely needed.  It doesn’t allow my pain to taint any love I have for you, it doesn’t allow my grief to color my friendships with our mutual friends.


And in the end, love is the key.  Because there can be no love without forgiveness.  Holding sins, and mistakes, against someone to make them pay a penance, to make them “earn” your forgiveness, it’s all a sham.  It’s a way to hold the power, but it will never lead to sincere forgiveness, or anything resembling love.  If you truly love someone, you forgive them their sins, no matter how great, whether, in the end, you walk away or remain close, you forgive.


It’s important to remember, as well, that forgiveness isn’t only for others, for those we love.  We must forgive ourselves as well.  We mustn’t hold our perceived wickedness and slights against our own selves to achieve any sense of peace.  No matter how badly you’ve hurt someone, no matter what you’ve done, simply feeling that guilt, that need to repent, is a sign that you need to forgive yourself, even if the “wronged” party does not.
So, in the end, the thing I’m holding tight to, is that forgiveness is worthwhile, and it doesn’t make me a fool, or naïve.  It simply makes me a strong enough woman to let go, and to focus on the good.  It makes me a better person, and more simplistically, it allows me to see the good, to treasure the good times, and keep my wonderful memories intact.  It allows me to let go of the past, and opens my future ever wider.  And for that, I am grateful.

So, been a bit since I've posted, and while nothing monumental is going on, there are a few stories to share.  :)

For starters, I had one heck of an interesting birthday (about 2 weeks ago).  My (golden) birthday was on a Friday.  Friday morning I woke up, got ready, and headed out to work...only to find out that my car was apparently not over all the work done on her, and had a power light on.  :(  Manage to drive (at 25mph or less with painfully slow acceleration) to the shop, talk to Kevin, and find out it appears to just be a bad ground from the battery, probably due to recent work being done.  Car gets fixed for free, I go about my day, much happier.   Especially when I arrive at work to find food and flowers from my coworkers, along with a Target gift card.  :D

The rest of the day goes smoothly, until after work.  I go pick up the boyfriend, and stop off at my place to pick up....something.  When we arrive, I attempt to switch on the lights...only to find out I had no power.  Emergency maintenance comes out, and the guy lets me know that there's a pink sticker on my meter, which means the power has been shut off for non-payment.  Weird, because I've received no notice that there is $$$ due on the account, or that service would be stopped.  Head over to my parents, where I am a big girl and cry through most of my birthday dinner because I'm seriously just exhausted.  I call ComEd, and get really frustrated, Dad calls ComEd on my behalf to try again, they basically indicate it's not an emergency...blah blah blah...wait until Monday.  Great, thanks.

*Funny aside - the ComEd guy my Dad talked to was named Warren.  So every time my Dad would go "Warren, Warren, I'm just.." all I could think of was Empire Records.  :)

The next day I go down and talk to management at my apartment complex, as I can't figure out why the power was shut off.  Come to find out, while I filled out all the paperwork to have the power put into my name and to set up autopayment, it apparently never went through - got lost somewhere between my complex mgmt and ComEd.  So...we still have no idea who has been paying my electric bill for the last 10 months.  Nice.  Following this, my Dad brings over an industrial-type giant fan, and a bunch of extension cords.  With managements' permission, we rig up a cord to an outlet in the hallway, manage to plug in the fridge, a few fans, and a coupla lights, so at least the place is livable for the weekend.

On Monday, I was able to talk to ComEd, start service as a brand new account, and get my power turned back on.  So all in all...happy with the outcome, though that weekend was mega stressful, especially since it was my golden birthday.

After all of that nonsense, I was looking forward to the shortened week with the 4th of July, only to get sick (like....really, painfully, crying sick) on Wednesday night with a really bad stomach bug.  Which, being the nice girlfriend that I am, I then gave to the boyfriend as well.  The 4th itself was good, though, as I was at least feeling better, and able to visit with family as well as running home occasionally to check on the boyfriend, too.

So now, thankfully, it seems like things have calmed down, and I'm on the hunt for a new car to replace the Jetta while I can still get a couple thou for her.  Looking forward to test-driving more cars tonight / tomorrow.  :)

Funny how some things seem so mega huge and terrible when they happen, and actually wind up being funny stories a week or two later.

“[…] the assumption that rigidly rejecting words and phrases that have existed for centuries will have much impact on public attitudes is rather dubious.  It gives an illusion of easy answers to impossibly difficult situations and ignores the powerful role of wit and irony as positive agents of self-notion and social change.  Clearly there is a need for freedom, diversity, wit, and directness of language about abnormal mental states and behavior.  Just as clearly, there is a profound need for a change in public perception about mental illness.  The issue, of course, is one of context and emphasis.”

<i>excerpt from “An Unquiet Mind:  A Memoir of Moods and Madness” by Kay Redfield Jamison</i>

So, the above quote struck as me as quite poignant, especially given a lot of the race (and other assorted) wank I've been reading lately.  I kind of feel like if you remove [mental illness] and [mental states and behavior] from the post, you can make this relatively widely applicable.  I feel like too many people focus on certain words, neglecting to worry at all about the intent behind them.  If someone ignorantly uses a word they shouldn't, the best chance to change their usage of said word is respectful education, not outright bashing.

One of my favorite high school teachers once said "Power isn't in the words, it's in their interpretation."

That always kind of stuck with me.  Seemed quite true, and just seems truer over time.  The thing is, sometimes, due to where / how someone grew up, they may simply be ignorant.  And be it that they have a close-minded family that kept them from the "real world" or a too open mind and friends who made them feel using certain words was acceptable, sometimes people will use words they shouldn't.  But so many people focus on screaming "obviously soandso is super racist!" or "soandso is dumber than rocks!" that they miss a chance to educate someone, in a helpful manner.

Sometimes, people just don't know.  Having been there myself, for various reasons, I know how much a helpful comment can change how I see things.  And I know, I do see some of this in snark comms, which is fine, and I won't get all hyper-sensitive or protective about it there.  I go about my business, and don't get involved any more than need be.  But most of the time, I just don't see the funny in putting intent into someone's comments when I have no way of knowing what they meant when they typed it.

because it is just too funny.  Apparently, you can buy a personal concert by Ryan Cabrera from Sam's Club's website.  For reals, yo.

http://www.samsclub.com/shopping/navigate.do?dest=5&item=355121

( Screen cap after the cut... )

So, I don't post here that much, and usually only when I'm *angst* but today I wanted to link to something I thought was worth sharing. I'm a big webcomics fan, ever since starting a series of jobs with plenty o' time spent in front of a computer connected to the wonderful internets. One of the things I like about webcomics is when the creators / writers / artists also use them as a blog, so I feel like I get to learn a bit about the person behind the comic.

One such webcomic is Least I Could Do, where the creators link blogs and their Twitter accounts for handy reading. This morning, I logged on, read the comic, and motored on down to the latest post from Mr. Sohmer himself, here.

I'm not going to summarize too much, but he speaks about some political things, and two comments he made really reverberated with me, so I wanted to share.

"[...]Obama’s nomination of Sonia Sotomayor for the Supreme court. I don’t know enough about her to make a call either way, but what is bothering me here is that every politician, every news anchor, every analyst and commentator is focusing on her ethnicity, rather than her qualifications.

This doesn’t help ease racial issues and tensions, it only highlights them.

Over at CNN, Ruben Navarrette talks about what a step forward this is. For me, a step forward would have been had Sotomayor been nominated, and no one even remarked on the fact that she was Hispanic. That she got nominated because the President thought she was the best candidate for the job."

This is a *huge* soapbox of mine. Constantly highlighting racial differences, even in a "positive" way, just brings them back to the spotlight, and doesn't in any way lead me to believe racism is going to go away any time soon, which is sad.

As some of you may know, another soapbox of mine is gay rights / gay marriage. I feel like the below sums up my thoughts pretty succinctly.

"I am a proponent for gay rights, but more importantly, I make no distinction between gay and civil rights.

A gay individual in California pays their state and federal taxes like anyone else, so why are they denied certain rights? The bible may define marriage as a union between a man and a woman, but isn’t the bible based on a system of religious beliefs? Isn’t there supposed to be a clean line that separates church and state?

What gives someone the right to impose their beliefs on someone else?"

Sometimes, it really makes me sad that for all the progress we've made, we're still so far from being where we should be...where we could be, as a nation, and as a planet. Hating someone for something they have very little control over (skin color and [IMO] sexual orientation) is quite possibly the most immature, stupid and wasteful way to live your life. I'll respect your beliefs, and I believe in your right to have them...but it's just not fair when we're spotlighting them in the news, and forcing them upon innocent people just trying to live their lives and find happiness.

So, yesterday was Mother's Day.  And like a good daughter, I spent the two weeks prior arranging everything to be wonderful - I made the reservation (which got my Dad and my Uncle / Godfather off the hook), bought all the presents and cards for my Mom, and volunteered to go pick up Grandma, even though it was out of my way.  We were a few minutes late, but so far so good.  Got Grandma seated and brought her food, everyone was happy with the food and had a lovely time.

Then, we go to leave.  Uncle, Aunt and cousin take off.  In the meantime, it is discovered that my car will not start.  :(  I drive my brother home in my Dad's Expedition to pick up my brother's car (which my Grandma can actually get in and out of), then brother, Mom and Grandma head to meet the rest of the family at Grandma's.  I spend over an hour in a car with my Dad, waiting for the tow truck.  He spends most of that time complaining about money issues (mine and his), how expensive brunch was, that the included gratuity was way too much, etc....all in all, a pleasant way to spend an hour.

Tow truck brings my car to the garage we frequent, inside of two minutes the mechanic knows what is wrong (timing belt and/or chain broken) but says that it can't be fixed until at least Tuesday.  :(  Dad and I finally make it to my Grandma's house, where she has opened all her presents, but now has a really bad stomach ache due to eating too much at brunch.  We hang for a bit to make sure she's ok, Aunt gets hypochondriac-y and worries about appendicitis, everyone calms down and heads home.

We give Mom her presents, make arrangements for me to borrow brother's car Sunday night - Monday afternoon, then Mom's car Monday night til I get my car back Tuesday, and I realize I left my badge (necessary to get into work on Monday) in my car, at the garage.  Drive back on my way home, unlock car with remote start remote, get badge...remote start remote battery dies.  Seriously?  Manage to scrounge up a mostly dead battery in brother's car to power remote long enough to lock my Jetta.  Go home, deal with massive allergies and headache, along with sadness that I couldn't make it to hang out with boyfriend and friends for game, since I was grumpy, in no mood for the immaturity that inevitably ensues, and don't trust their parking lot with my brother's car.

Woke up this morning, hips and lower back are a mess for no apparent reason (stress, I suppose) and head into work.  I've basically heard nothing from boyfriend since a very short phone call yesterday explaining that I wouldn't make it over due to lack of car and that I was pretty wound up / upset about this, no response to email letting him know what was going on and explaining that I hope we can spend time together since I'll be out of town for 8 days next week.  So yeah, grumpy.

Thankfully, my family has been great with the car-loaning and being accommodating, and my brother rocks.  Anyhow, off to try to finish up work and wait for my ride home from work.

My moods are ephermal.  When I think that logic has tamed them, my brain has them under control, the hormones and chemicals once again rage out of control, as if to prove to themselves (and me) that they are still in charge.  I have long periods of happiness, of contentment, of feeling settled and at peace.  Then, out of nowhere, the little nagging doubts and pinpricks of past injuries rise to the surface to haunt me once more.

Too much time spent on nothing
waiting for a moment to arise
The face in the ceiling and arms too long
I wait for him to catch me

Waiting for you to embrace me

 

I said I forgave you, and I did.  But I failed to mention that I'm terrible at forgetting.  Like an elephant, I'll remember til I don't know when....and even though I logically know that there is nothing we can do...I can't help but hold it against you both.  The littlest gestures, the smallest things...they fill me with that knowledge, because it's beyond possibility, at this point.  It has happened before, and even though you've assured me it will never happen again, and told me all the reasons why....it doesn't change what has already been.


Well, they say that honesty is the best policy.  Sometimes I'm not so sure of that.  Because now that I know details, it just gives me more to build the movies in my mind that haunt my dreams and crop up at the most inopportune moments.

 

This isn't to say I want out.  I don't.  For me to leave this, I'll have to be dragged, kicking and screaming until there is nothing left in me to fight.  But sometimes, you have to understand, that I'm still not sure how to deal.  You'd think I'd be practiced at this by now, but I still am not sure how to handle these emotions.

 

 

I put my soul in what I do
Last night I drew a funny man
with dark eyes and a hanging tongue
It goes way bad, I never liked a sad look
From someone who wants to be loved by you

 

All the things that some would consider "too much" or be frightened off by are comfortable to me.  Things I know how to deal with.  Things that have logical, rational solutions.   Things I know how to do...or can learn how to do.  I can be supportive, I can adjust, I can be open and honest and calm.  I can research, and take notes, and ask the right questions.  I can keep track of the details, and try to stay in control, because dealing with your problems is easier than dealing with mine.

Crushed and filled with all I found
Underneath and inside just to come around
More, give me more, give me more
 

But somehow, we'll go on.  I know that somehow, I'll deal, we'll deal, and we'll go on.  I just need to keep my promises, and you yours.  Too much in this life is uncertain, much too much to give up on the few things I'm certain about.

I sometimes worry that all your good intentions will be the death of our relationship.  I have trouble discerning between your intent and my interpretation, and so often, I don't know who is at fault, if anyone.

I am neurotic, I overanalyze, and I don't always know how to tell you what I want, what I need.  I'm working on it, I promise...I just hope you're working to understand me as well.

So, thanks to my mother, I have inherited the worry gene (a.k.a. "worst possible scenario").  This means that when I can't get ahold of someone, I tend to imagine that they're in a ditch somewhere, even when I know it's not likely.

Yesterday I stayed home sick from work.  Between the snow and my sinuses, I just couldn't bear to go outside.  Instead, I worked from my couch for 5 hours, then took a 4+ hour nap, which only served to make me feel sluggish.  Given that Sunday night was a bit hard on me (the details don't matter, it was just an awkward situation that I tried too hard to endure when I should have gone home to sleep), and I felt so yucky, the only highlight of my day was to be watching Heroes with the boyfriend and friends, and hopefully getting some sympathy and cuddles.

After I woke up around 5:30pm, I ate some cheesy potatoes, drank  some juice, and got dressed.  I tried calling B's phone a few times, didn't get an answer, but decided to head over, as it was already later than I usually show up on Monday nights.  Get to the apartment, and no one is home.  I text J, he doesn't know where his roomies are, and I know he's in class.  Call M, come to find out that B and A decided around 2pm to drive to Rockford, positive they would be back in time for Heroes.  I get grumpy, drive back home, and lay on my couch for about 90 minutes with my shoes still on, before J texts that he's on his way to the apartment.  I head over, we watch Heroes and cartoons, and hang out, then around 10:30, still no A and B, so I head home to bed.

As of now, I still have heard nothing from A and B.  In my rational mind, I know they probably crashed on a friend's couch in Rockford, and that B's phone must have died, but it bothers me that they couldn't borrow a friend's phone and call to let me know what's up / that they weren't going to make it back, since they knew full well that we were planning on hanging out.  And A knows full well the way my mind works, and that I've been trying not to think about them in a ditch somewhere, or god knows where else, since I tend to worry before I get angry.  And since last night, I've been cycling between the two.

I know he has good intentions.  I know that in some way, this was meant to make it so we didn't have to go on Friday, so that we can all go see Watchmen, and so on.  And I know they fully intended to be back in time for our plans.  But the fact that now, when things are so fragile...well, he can't even be bothered to find a way to let me know?  That hurts.  But I'll try not to be mad, just honest, and I'll try to go on with my day today, hoping that by tonight I'll hear something.

*just needed to vent - better now*

This is all at once harder and easier than I imagined it would be...i'm not sure if i'm dealing, healing, or just growing numb. guess we'll find out, one way or another, sooner or later.

I feel like I'm torn, between trying to be strong, and letting myself breakdown as utterly and completely as possible.  Part of me wants to hurt, loudly, in every way I can, to make sure you know how badly you've broken me.  Part of me feels fully capable of doing nothing but sleeping, crying, trying to eat, and pretending to be okay to make it through the day at work.  Part of me feels like I could get behind doing the bare minimum to keep my job and "live" until who knows when, and to make sure that you know, somehow, the state that you left me in.

But I suppose it's just not in my nature.  And I don't want to let you off easy...but I'm not the type to stay down.  I'm already trying to convince myself, for whatever reasons I can find, that this is for the best.  I'm already trying to move past what I'm pretty sure is not hope, but denial, and believe that it is okay if we end up as friends....that no matter how sure I was that you were (are) my meant-to-be, my one-and-only...well, maybe I was wrong.  That maybe you were right when you said that you didn't think you could ever love me the way that you love her.  And even while I still think that you will never love two people the same way, and I'm okay with that...well, you're not.  And that should be enough for me.

And that's where most of the turmoil is honestly coming from...the fighting within me, whether I let go, or cling ever tighter.  Whether I try to move on, without looking back, or whether I admit to myself that I really do hope there is a future for us, somewhere.  As I've said, there is a part of me that is fiercely determined not to let go, even though you've already walked away.  Even though you've made it clear how you feel, what you want....well, part of me refuses to buy it.  But clinging to lost hope and desperation is never the way to deal...and I suppose dealing is what I have to do.

I guess, in the end...I have to be strong.  Hell, it's who I am, what I was born to be.  I'm not good at staying down and out, I'm not good at focusing on the bad.  And even if I can't have the savior I want, well...I'll settle for the savior I've got, even if it means I need to go get my own white steed and save myself.  So I'll stay away, I'll try to quiet the voices within, the constant reminders, and I'll make my own way.

And someday, I will return to you, as a friend, and with an open mind.  No expectations...that's my goal.  But I can't get there with you constantly at the forefront of my thoughts...so it will take time.  And right now, that's really all I have...I just need to fill it.

You shouldn't have pushed so hard, shouldn't have asked me to be so sure.  I was...I committed too much, and I thought you'd at least try to do the same, instead of abandoning me.  And now that I've said it out loud, I have no idea what to do with myself.  Now that you're gone, I can't stop all the what if's, and the what now's.  I was so damn sure that if I told you it was okay, and I told you that I was there for you, to help you through this, you would keep me.  And now I just feel lost.

And I'm still so torn between the different sides of myself.  More than anything, I hurt so bad it's hard to believe i'm still breathing. The only time I stop crying is when I'm asleep, and then, I have nothing but the strangest dreams.  I couldn't even go to work today, because I don't know how to act ok, how to pretend that nothing is wrong when it feels like everything is wrong.  That same part that feels pathetic, that wants to beg even though I shouldn't want you back, not after what you told me, not after you were honest about how you felt.

There's that part of me that's fully committed to rage.  That wants to hurt you, physically, emotionally, however I can.  That feels like screaming at you, why the fuck did you let me waste so much time?  Why did you spend six months letting me fall so in love with you, being so good to me and letting me think that you were as committed to making this work as I was.  That you let me believe that I was enough, and let me commit myself to all the things I never was sure I even wanted to do.  The things that we've done, and the things that we've been through...I can't take them back, no matter how much I want to sometimes.

I don't want to be bitter.  I really don't, because I don't want the good to get caught up in the bad.  But I feel so vulnerable, so used, so empty right now.  I feel like everything I thought I knew was yanked out from under me.  You said it first.  You made me think it, made me feel it, made me believe it.  And it's not fair to take it away from me like this, when I need it so much.

And that's the crux of the matter.  I can't stop loving you.  It would be so much easier if I could just hate you, but instead, I just end up hating myself for not being enough, not being able to make you love me enough to stay with me, not being able to walk away from this the way I want to, not being strong enough not to fall apart. I know that I'm better than this, and I know that's all I'll hear from well-meaning friends and family in the weeks to come...but it doesn't change the what is.

Honestly, watching you break down, seeing your status changes and seeing you cry...it just ends up pissing me off more.  You should be hurting.  It's not fair if you make me feel like this and get off easy.  I want you to realize what you've done, I wanted you to see it, because that's fair.  At the same time, though,  my twisted train of thought can't figure out why, if this hurts you so bad, you thought it was the right thing to do.

I feel like I can no longer tell the difference between hope and denial, between caring and love, between friendship and potential for the future.  Because I don't know how to be your friend, and as selfish as it is, I don't want to be your friend.  I don't want to put up that facade, I don't want to expend the energy it will take to be ok around you, if I don't know or at least think that someday you'll change your mind.  I don't want to sit around waiting, hoping, that you'll realize how wrong you were...but I don't know what else to do.  Even if I move on, I can't see myself being with anyone else.  The idea of touching someone else makes me physically ill, and the idea of a future without you makes me numb.


And to all of my friends - I'm not going to do anything stupid.  I'm much too smart to consider anything dramatic, anything beyond being anti-social for a while.  Right now, I don't know how to pretend, and I don't feel like talking about it.  I don't know how to talk about it without losing it completely.  So I'm committed to being alone, for a bit, to try to find my way through this, to try to distract myself with reading and watching, allowing for the crying and sleeping that are bound to occurr.  Somehow I'll find my way out...I always do.  Just give it time.

So much to say, yet as is so common, so unsure how to say it.  Again, in my reaching, I'm stealing the words of others and sharing them to try to explain how I'm feeling.

When I told you that my mind wouldn't change, even if given the rest of this week to think about, I wasn't kidding.  I think that even if I took the next month to think, I'd stay secure in my decision.  Granted, as the time passes, as we spend time apart, and as the downside becomes more apparent, I'm not going to pretend that I won't be thinking it over.  But I still know in my heart that I made the right decision, and I'm glad that honesty worked out for both of us.


I will never be one to make my decisions based on the worse-case scenario.  There are so few absolutes in this world that I can't rationalize betting on the bad.  And I would rather be sure of what I have, in this moment, than fear for the future when it may be taken away.  Just as things may go on to meet or exceed your worst fears, my darkest dreams, the conversations we had last night...well, they could just as easily go in any other direction.  As I told you, in this moment, I'm more afraid of what will happen tomorrow, than what will happen in 6 months, 1 year...so on.

And I know you think I'm certifiable.  :)  And I don't mind.  I'd rather be an optimistic fool, happy in the time I have with you, happy for the chance I have to feel this way, than to give it up in anticipation of a day that may never come, a pain I may never have cause to feel.

All I'm asking of you is that you do right by me.  Be honest, even when you think it's going to hurt my feelings.  I'm a big girl, and I'll rebound, I promise.  But I'm a creature of logic with one hell of an imagination, and I won't do well with the half-truths and assumptions, the attempts to protect me as if I'm fragile.  Don't face this as a doomed love story, an epic tragedy that hasn't yet reached its peak.  Give us the opportunity, and do your best to make the best of this.  I'm not asking you to give me everything, but show me the effort - show me that I matter to you as much as you say I do. 

While I'll be sympathetic to your situation and your mental state, I'm not going to stop pushing.  I want you to accomplish the things that I know you're capable of accomplishing, and I know that they won't get done if you don't do them.  I'm not one to settle for moping - we've been over this.  I'm a firm believer in making your own mood, and I think that is exactly what has to happen here.  Make the decision, decide to be positive, to dedicate yourself, and find a way.  Find a distraction, find an outlet, find a job, find a f*cking therapist, if it helps.  Whatever it is, find it, and work it.  This isn't going to heal on it's own, it won't get better if you simply give in.  And now is the time to fight...or next time, it might be me leaving you, instead.

Guess Daddy didn't hold you enough
I ain't saying that you never had to struggle
for a buck, or some luck, or some love
Motherf*cker join the club

Misunderstood is not a birthright
The monster lost control after the first bite
Master your highlife
B*tch get your swerve right

I wish this felt more like you doing the right thing (or trying to, at least), and less like you taking the easy way out.  But as the hours pass (oh so slowly) it feels more and more like you're just trying to avoid seeing how badly you've broken me.

It's so hard, trying to sleep, to eat, to breathe, when I can't even think straight.  Even when I try to distract myself, I'm at war.  I'm not the type to beg, but I'm just about on my knees, baby.  I'm so torn - there's a part of me that wants to be furious, and makes me cold, able to act so well that those around me haven't figured out yet that something is wrong.  There's a part of me that is so heartbroken that when I let it take over, I can't keep food down, and I can't keep the tears at bay.  And there's still that part of me that wants to just make sure that you're okay, that won't let me let you see what you've done to me, because I know things are bad enough for you already, and I don't want to make it worse.

But you made this decision.  You decided to cut me out, and if that's the choice you've made, I suppose, sooner or later, I'm going to have to lay it all on the table.  Because I can't go on like this, I can't keep pretending to be okay, and I don't want to devolve into numbness, pretending to be whole when I'm not, when I feel broken inside.

 

I saw you tonight, for only a moment, and I'm still shaking.  I cried all the way home, oscillating between the heartbreak and the blinding rage.  So angry that you couldn't be bothered, yet again, to make the time for me, unable to understand why you haven't bothered to even see how I'm doing, but knowing that this can't be easy for you, either.  Part of me wants to tell you to just eff off, be gone from my life...but I'm not sure how to keep living if I do that.

We're past the point where I can be your friend.  We're past the point where this will heal in anything resembling short order.  Yet I can't seem to bring myself to hate you, cut you off, because the thought of not knowing you hurts even worse than the realization of what has happened.



I haven't been able to bring myself to say it out loud, yet.  I haven't managed to tell anyone what went down, because I'm afraid if I say it out loud, if I tell another soul, it will make it real.  And for now, the momentary denial is comforting.  Even though I know it can't end well...I can't seem to make myself give up hope.  Because right now, it's all I have.
 

to realize that I've never been in love quite like this before.  I'm not sure I ever though that I'd be in love quite like this.  And I sure as heck didn't expect it to be you.


But it does seem to be true.  I don't know that I've ever been in a relationship before that I considered "mature" while still thinking it was fun.  I've never been with someone who listens, and makes the adjustments I ask for - makes the effort if I ask for it, but doesn't indulge my every request and whim.  You call me out when I need it, but still manage to spoil me, somehow.

And for all the trials and tribulations, all the baggage you come fully equipped with, I don't think I'd have it any other way.  Even as I have my doubts, my scared little girl moments, and my concerns that in the end, it will all prove too much, I continue to work through it.  I continue to find a way to make it work, and I continue to encourage you, because I want to make it work.
Yet I'm terrified, I will admit.  Though I'm loathe to admit, I'm scared that this will fall apart, or you will walk away - not because of anything I did or did not do, not because of anything between us...but simply because of life.  And that is the last thing I want.  I refuse to give up on love that easily, especially if there is nothing wrong between us.

I will stand by your side, I will help you...but I will not do this for you, and I'm glad that you won't ask me to.  You have it in you, I know you do...you just need to see it, believe it...and stop making excuses and letting others drag you down.

I may be immature...

( But this made me giggle so much I almost drove off the road... )

So, last night, I got home from work, in a good-ish mood, looking forward to relaxing, knitting, cleaning, etc.  Then, I walked in to my apartment.

Where it was 62 degrees.

Checked thermostat - still set to 70-ish.  Checked furnace - switch still the right way, but no furnace-y noises.  Hmm.

Dealt with plenty of concern and both Dad and boyfriend telling me to call emergency maintenance / go sleep at parents' house.  Just wanted to be home by myself and relax.  Did so, only with the aid of lots of blankets and my fleecy jacket.  Slept just fine with down comforter and room-heating humidifier (from Vicks - LOVE this thing during winter), but woke up to 55 degrees in my apartment.

Maintenance came today and fixed it, which is super.  Dad made sure it worked, even better.  Cept now I'm getting sick.  Don't think it was entirely the lack of heat's fault, since I've been feeling it for a few days now, but throat is definitely swollen.  Boo.

Hosting NYE tomorrow night - need to be healthy to indulge in drink-y and still get up in time for Bowl Game goodness on NYD, dammit.

Also, is it wrong of me to just want sympathy?  I know that guys generally want to "fix" things, but last night, all I wanted was sympathy, and all I got was a lot of "you should do 'x'" which just made me annoyed.  When I'm whine-y and tired, and I already gave you the night off to hang with friends, I want sympathy, dammit.  Not "screw what you want, go stay at your parents" phrased in such a way that it doesn't even sound like it's coming from an "I care about you" place.  Grr...I think I'm tired and sickly, therefore overly sensitive.  Need to nip that in the bud before tonight.

Ah well, back to work.

Too much thinking is never good for me.  This I know, but I let it get the best of me everytime regardless.  Logic dictates otherwise, but my brain moves along on it's own, overdramatic, emulating those I wish to be the least like.  Can't seem to help it, can I?

The next 40 minutes, stuck at work with nothing to do, are going to seem endless.  I know he's hurting, don't know why, just want to try to help.  S'all I can do, I suppose.  I want to fix it, fix everything, even when I can't, even when it's not my place, it's all I know how to do.  Try to help, try to repair, try to paint over so you don't pay attention.  Make silly faces, make you look at me and try to take it away, take you away, take us away.

And while I may not understand the reasons for your sadness, I certainly know the feeling.  I've been there, so many times, unable to explain it to anyone outside me, just putting up the happy front that everyone expects, as it's easier than telling the truth.  Sometimes it is easier to play pretend, not to let anyone know.  Except you.  Reading me like a book, you never let me pretend when I'm around you.  And I'm in awe, that you take it all in stride.  Calmly.  Letting me talk it out, listening, and learning.  I am a work in progress.

And I'm so scared.  Isn't that the final word each time?  Even when I start out feeling like I'm the one in control, I'm afraid.  Of loss, of letdown, that somehow it will all fall apart, and somehow, it will all be my fault.  Anytime I am this happy, I'm innately terrified that it can't stay that way.  I should be reassured, honestly, now that we've had our first fight.  We've had a few bad days, and now we know how we each deal, and we're learning how to help eachother through it.  Which is more than I can say about any relationship I've been in before.  But I'm still scared.  We're still learning about each other, we still haven't seen the bad and the ugly, not in full, and I'm still uncertain about the future.

But I'm hanging in there.  And it's worth it.