Blunt honesty.
TRUTH. We all say that we want it, but do we?
When the truth doesn’t match up to what we desire from life, we find it next to impossible to accept it.
We all say we give it. And we do, for the most part. That is, until the truth is going to destroy our bubble that we're comfortable in or hurt someone that you care deeply about.
Well, like it or not, here’s mine:
When I say that I want to be in a relationship, I mean it. When I say that I think that you’re wonderful, I mean it. What I don’t mean, is that we should get married after knowing each other less than 2 months. See!!! No need to panic. I’m not nuts like every other drunken whore on the planet. I’m just me, over here like, “At some point before I die, I want to be loved and know it.“ Too much to ask? It better not be, or you don’t have a place in my life.
What I really want, is another adult in the house, who wants to do adult things. Like shower together, for example. Or watching porn and making fun of it with me. Or conversing. I think that good, honest, old fashioned communication has gone right out the window. Man do I miss it! I want to know what makes someone tick at their core. When you have that kind of bond with someone, love is simply besides the point. It took me until I was 25 years old to learn how to love myself the way that I deserved to. I have busted my ass to have the life that I have now. It might not be a lot to some, but it’s a lot more than I had to start with. I will not spend a second in the next 25 years of my life from this day forward trying to convince someone else that I am worth getting to know.
Truth. Love. It either is or it isn’t. If you wanted to get to know me, you would.
I find it hard to be in love. That’s only because I didn’t want to fall in love. I refuse to lower my walls. I have been through a lot of things that I don't get close enough to people for them to know about me. Once you open up yourself to someone, there’s a chance things won’t go the way you intended and you will be left broken. I’m not ready to feel empty.
I think that Facebook should allow the relationship status "In a threesome with Ben & Jerry and Netflix". Polyamory, anyone?
There are 26 letters in the English language. 26 letters that can be arranged in an infinite combination of words and sentences. None of which will be able to change what has already happened. None of which can make sense out of the nonsense that love is. Being one to need to make sense out of everything, this fact is the most frustrating.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
Poke Me
Someone? Anyone? Beuller?
This week has been interesting, to say the very least. I swear in the dating world things can change very quickly. Either for the good or bad. This week has been for the good.
Car-wise, not so good. Money is the root of all evil, and I need more of it as usual. The stupid pipe broke off the muffler part that goes into the engine. Something about an exhaust manifold? According to Mr. 7 Year Itch, it's an easy fix. He's willing, able and is going to fix it which is awesome of him. According to Mr. Chef, it's fine just a little loud. According to my son, it's kindda cool because now we get to pretend "that we're riding in a motorcycle, only it's safer and we don't have to wear one of those stupid helmets". According to my dad, my car could blow up any second and I better not drive it until it's fixed. Today, I'm going to go with my son's opinion.
As a side note, I know (almost) nothing about cars, but I can get a lawn mower started after sitting all winter in a snowbank. Seriously, the same lawn mower that wouldn't work for me at all last year. I had to call my dad or Mr. 7 Year Itch to get it started for me when I wanted to use it. Every. Single. Time. It didn't mean that much, I only paid $25 for it from my Great Uncle. I left it out all winter because I hated it and was going to get rid of it come spring. It's like my son. Until I threaten to ground him I can't get him to do anything. I mentally threaten it with the scrap yard and now it's like nothing was ever wrong. I was so excited about the lawn mower working that it motivated me to rake and clean up the entire yard Wednesday. I then went inside and cleaned some of the house. Then I was outside all day yesterday.
Job-wise, great. Perfect in fact. Coming to work gives me a nice break from the other things in life. Other than the fact that I am losing my voice due to allergies. When you're the Switchboard Operator of a hospital, you kind of need that.
Boy-wise, amazing. What was once just a flash of a face or remembering something that was said that brought a smile to my face has changed into a permagrin. There is just so much to say about all the things that I can't let out of me right now. Mostly because I don't want to jinx anything. Also because I keep having these weird (to me) freak out moments where I'm just happy and all I want to do is my spazzy dance in my undies, but that's not acceptable at the grocery store (or any other public place for that matter) so I can't. Happiness is strange to me. This kind anyway.
This week has been interesting, to say the very least. I swear in the dating world things can change very quickly. Either for the good or bad. This week has been for the good.
Car-wise, not so good. Money is the root of all evil, and I need more of it as usual. The stupid pipe broke off the muffler part that goes into the engine. Something about an exhaust manifold? According to Mr. 7 Year Itch, it's an easy fix. He's willing, able and is going to fix it which is awesome of him. According to Mr. Chef, it's fine just a little loud. According to my son, it's kindda cool because now we get to pretend "that we're riding in a motorcycle, only it's safer and we don't have to wear one of those stupid helmets". According to my dad, my car could blow up any second and I better not drive it until it's fixed. Today, I'm going to go with my son's opinion.
As a side note, I know (almost) nothing about cars, but I can get a lawn mower started after sitting all winter in a snowbank. Seriously, the same lawn mower that wouldn't work for me at all last year. I had to call my dad or Mr. 7 Year Itch to get it started for me when I wanted to use it. Every. Single. Time. It didn't mean that much, I only paid $25 for it from my Great Uncle. I left it out all winter because I hated it and was going to get rid of it come spring. It's like my son. Until I threaten to ground him I can't get him to do anything. I mentally threaten it with the scrap yard and now it's like nothing was ever wrong. I was so excited about the lawn mower working that it motivated me to rake and clean up the entire yard Wednesday. I then went inside and cleaned some of the house. Then I was outside all day yesterday.
Job-wise, great. Perfect in fact. Coming to work gives me a nice break from the other things in life. Other than the fact that I am losing my voice due to allergies. When you're the Switchboard Operator of a hospital, you kind of need that.
Boy-wise, amazing. What was once just a flash of a face or remembering something that was said that brought a smile to my face has changed into a permagrin. There is just so much to say about all the things that I can't let out of me right now. Mostly because I don't want to jinx anything. Also because I keep having these weird (to me) freak out moments where I'm just happy and all I want to do is my spazzy dance in my undies, but that's not acceptable at the grocery store (or any other public place for that matter) so I can't. Happiness is strange to me. This kind anyway.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Where's My Paper Bag?
"The two gazed back with expressions in which hopelessly smitten erotic obsession could not really be ruled out..." (Pynchon)
Holy Moly....
All the things I have never thought, experienced or felt. Or never thought that I ever would. It's almost like before then, I never knew what it felt like to be able to look at someone and smile for no reason. And now I can't stop.
Saturday was wonderful.
That one thing that you've been looking for your entire life and didn't even know it. Until they called to make sure you made it home ok. Like a perfect gentleman. That you've never experienced before.
I might be freaking out. A little. Maybe.
And yes, thank you to my sister. For if it wasn't for her kick in the butt, I would still be sitting on my couch watching Netflix with my dogs. I would be smiling, but not for the same reasons that I am now.
There's a song that I came across the other day. Begin Again by Taylor Swift. I actually like some of her music. There were a few lines in it that really struck a chord in me:
"And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid
I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did.
I've been spending the last eight months
Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end
But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again"
Frankly it makes me bawl like a baby. Fetal position and all.
It is so frustrating to feel like you repeatedly tried to give your everything to this big, black hole who just kept reguritating it right back at you until you're ready to walk away only for them to suck it out of you.
I put so much of myself away to avoid. What, I can't put my finger on. All the avoiding relationships like they'd put me into anaphylactic shock if I came close to having one. All of the feelings of unworthiness. And for what? Fear? Confrontation? Disapproving looks? Being made to feel ashamed to be who I am? Avoiding conflict at all costs, never feeling like I'm enough but begging for approval anyway. Maybe it's just the stubborn Irish in me that can't make a single right decision until I've made all the wrong ones. Wishing things were different aren't going to make them different.
"Well you can wish in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one gets filled first".
I don't want to go into too many details just yet. There's too much to feel out and too soon to say. All I can say is that I am a firm believer that everyone has a path. It might be winding up and down and sideways. You might have to backtrack a little just to make sure you're on the right one or that decisions you made sucked just as much the second time. But it all leads to exactly where you're supposed to be in the end.
Holy Moly....
All the things I have never thought, experienced or felt. Or never thought that I ever would. It's almost like before then, I never knew what it felt like to be able to look at someone and smile for no reason. And now I can't stop.
Saturday was wonderful.
That one thing that you've been looking for your entire life and didn't even know it. Until they called to make sure you made it home ok. Like a perfect gentleman. That you've never experienced before.
I might be freaking out. A little. Maybe.
And yes, thank you to my sister. For if it wasn't for her kick in the butt, I would still be sitting on my couch watching Netflix with my dogs. I would be smiling, but not for the same reasons that I am now.
There's a song that I came across the other day. Begin Again by Taylor Swift. I actually like some of her music. There were a few lines in it that really struck a chord in me:
"And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid
I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did.
I've been spending the last eight months
Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end
But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again"
Frankly it makes me bawl like a baby. Fetal position and all.
It is so frustrating to feel like you repeatedly tried to give your everything to this big, black hole who just kept reguritating it right back at you until you're ready to walk away only for them to suck it out of you.
I put so much of myself away to avoid. What, I can't put my finger on. All the avoiding relationships like they'd put me into anaphylactic shock if I came close to having one. All of the feelings of unworthiness. And for what? Fear? Confrontation? Disapproving looks? Being made to feel ashamed to be who I am? Avoiding conflict at all costs, never feeling like I'm enough but begging for approval anyway. Maybe it's just the stubborn Irish in me that can't make a single right decision until I've made all the wrong ones. Wishing things were different aren't going to make them different.
"Well you can wish in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one gets filled first".
I don't want to go into too many details just yet. There's too much to feel out and too soon to say. All I can say is that I am a firm believer that everyone has a path. It might be winding up and down and sideways. You might have to backtrack a little just to make sure you're on the right one or that decisions you made sucked just as much the second time. But it all leads to exactly where you're supposed to be in the end.
Saturday, May 9, 2015
I'm Freaking Out A Little Over Here!
Sweaty palms, the internal emotional rollercoaster of a teen in lust, heart pounding, throat closing up, freaking out about what I'm going to wear.
This is what dating does to me.
Talking with someone who I have talked to for a month. Who somehow leaves me feeling like I've just talked to my best friend for hours. Who I've managed to unabashedly show my crazy to and instead of judgement has matched it with their own.
Yes, Mr. Chef and I have finally decided to meet.
This is what dating does to me.
Talking with someone who I have talked to for a month. Who somehow leaves me feeling like I've just talked to my best friend for hours. Who I've managed to unabashedly show my crazy to and instead of judgement has matched it with their own.
Yes, Mr. Chef and I have finally decided to meet.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Relief
That feeling that I have been waiting for my entire life and didn't even know it until the experience hit me like a Sumo wrestler gives hugs.
That time came when he came over to get the one thing remaining of his in my basement. At the risk of TMI, as if reading someone's blog isn't already exactly that, it was a stockade. It was a "gift". You know, the one thing that you have no use for other than for other people, but can't because if you use it for other people, WW3 would ensue. For those of you naive to all things BDSM, I encourage you to use a search engine to find the answers that you're looking for. For those who are fully aware, I silently high five you. On the ass. But only with your consent, of course :)
For me, it was a negative symbol of a relationship with someone who continuously made it clear that he had no interest in who I am, but rather what he could make me be. Or hoping that he could make me be, as anyone who knows me knows "making me" be or do anything goes exactly nowhere. I needed it out, but I didn't want to be an asshole about it. So I simply texted him and gave him the option of either coming to get it or selling it myself. Hindsight being what it is, I should have been an asshole. I could have made a killing.
I had confronted him about something that I had found out about what he is doing with his life now a couple of weeks ago, and as usual he danced around it. I swear, the way he skirts around confrontation he would be awesome at River Dance. Maybe he should try out to go on tour with them. Mr. 7 Year Itch, Lord of the Dance.
In my first blog on here, I had said that he is now more of a boyfriend to be than he ever was, here's a little more insight into this. Since Mr. 7 Year Itch and I broke up in December, he's calling and texting me daily. The fighting that we used to do constantly is over. We talk civily. He acts like he actually cares about my health problems, not so new to me but popping up and saying "Howdy" more than I'd like lately. And yes, out of something I can't describe we have slept together a few times too.
If ever there was a notion at any point in our 7 years together that I was something to him other than just a girlfriend, it was lost on me. You don't hold onto affection, love, and ideas about your future together as playthings only saved to solve an argument. A last minute Hail Mary hoping that I won't walk away angry.
If there was ever a glimmer of hope that things would be different, it is now gone. He has finally told me the truth, and in turn something opened in me that can only be described as a firey pit mixed with rage, betrayal, self doubt, sadness and hatred.
No more mindfucking me into believing his lies and convincing myself that I was crazy.
No more constantly questioning my own self worth based on how he spoke to me that day.
No more taking time taken away from my children and being the mother that they deserve tied to a phone arguing.
No more misery.
No more insanity.
No more fighting my gut instinct.
No more lowering myself to what I though I had to be in order to be loved.
No more watching as another girl got everything I should have gotten.
No more caring that another girl is getting everything I should have gotten.
No more negative energy.
I will be enough for a change.
I will be the only one that matters.
He keeps trying to smooth over what he said and what he's doing. Trying to claim that he only wants to be with me, that he misses me. That he's going out of his way to open his wounds that he's been licking because he wants a future together. He wants me to not yell at him. He doesn't want me to be angry. Well too bad asshole! I'm angry. And you're the one who made me that way.
But along with all the other feelings, there's an overwhelming sense of relief.
I don't have to believe him anymore.
That is the most peaceful feeling that I have ever known.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Isn't Hell Supposed To Be For Horrible People?
Who knew that the dating world was going to change me from this totally empowered, awesome single mom who has her crap together into this insecure headcase?
Because I sure as hell didn't.
I didn't know that everyone is looking for an adventure. Something exciting and new. **Insert sarcastic eye roll here** Almost every guy worth looking at has a picture of himself on top of a mountain and I'm over here like, "Let's do Netflix and ice cream on the couch."
And don't get me wrong, I am all for adventure. Just not heights. I love fishing, the outdoors, hiking, camping and all that entails. Random car rides that lead to anywhere and create days worth of inside jokes are perfect. As a friend once said, "I'm looking for the Diego to my Dora". Only way less annoying, but she's right. Nature and I are like frenemies. Being the master at accidental self-injury that I am, it would be wonderful to have someone around to at least witness my imminent death by flipping my kayak trying to get in it. Which totally happened last summer, concussion and all.
I'm a small town girl. I like the city and loud places in small doses. I could do a quiet day at camp all day.
I love photography, both taking and being in photographs. I love to share what I do with others. In no way does it imply by showing you a pinup modeling shoot that I have done that I am crying out for or need your attention - as stated by one of the first guys that I was chatting with. That actually hurt. A lot. "That was a really big assumption for such a small brain, wasn't it?"
To chat with someone, totally get along and feel like you've known each other forever. Only to have them either disappear without saying a word one day. I know that I cannot control the actions of another person, and clearly I have no idea what is going on in their lives to make them disappear. I know that another person's thoughts and feelings about me actually have nothing at all to do with me nor do they reflect who I am as a person. But that doesn't mean that it feels that way.
Sometimes we find ourselves desperately trying our best to fine tooth comb who we are in order to make sure that there isn't any sort of deterrent for the next one based on the experiences we had with the previous. Sometimes we truely don't give a shit and just move on. Lately I seem to find myself flip flopping somewhere in between.
Here's the thing; I am full figured, extremely curvy, and love who I am. I have a very hard time NOT treating someone like I've know them 100 years. I love Quantum Leap and have 1-12 of 13 of the comic book series. I love cooking and food and life. I love my kids and as hard as things get sometimes the one thing that I will never do is give up on our neat little unit that we've become. I just can't get over the feeling that there's enough wiggle room in there for one more.
Because I sure as hell didn't.
I didn't know that everyone is looking for an adventure. Something exciting and new. **Insert sarcastic eye roll here** Almost every guy worth looking at has a picture of himself on top of a mountain and I'm over here like, "Let's do Netflix and ice cream on the couch."
And don't get me wrong, I am all for adventure. Just not heights. I love fishing, the outdoors, hiking, camping and all that entails. Random car rides that lead to anywhere and create days worth of inside jokes are perfect. As a friend once said, "I'm looking for the Diego to my Dora". Only way less annoying, but she's right. Nature and I are like frenemies. Being the master at accidental self-injury that I am, it would be wonderful to have someone around to at least witness my imminent death by flipping my kayak trying to get in it. Which totally happened last summer, concussion and all.
I'm a small town girl. I like the city and loud places in small doses. I could do a quiet day at camp all day.
I love photography, both taking and being in photographs. I love to share what I do with others. In no way does it imply by showing you a pinup modeling shoot that I have done that I am crying out for or need your attention - as stated by one of the first guys that I was chatting with. That actually hurt. A lot. "That was a really big assumption for such a small brain, wasn't it?"
To chat with someone, totally get along and feel like you've known each other forever. Only to have them either disappear without saying a word one day. I know that I cannot control the actions of another person, and clearly I have no idea what is going on in their lives to make them disappear. I know that another person's thoughts and feelings about me actually have nothing at all to do with me nor do they reflect who I am as a person. But that doesn't mean that it feels that way.
Sometimes we find ourselves desperately trying our best to fine tooth comb who we are in order to make sure that there isn't any sort of deterrent for the next one based on the experiences we had with the previous. Sometimes we truely don't give a shit and just move on. Lately I seem to find myself flip flopping somewhere in between.
Here's the thing; I am full figured, extremely curvy, and love who I am. I have a very hard time NOT treating someone like I've know them 100 years. I love Quantum Leap and have 1-12 of 13 of the comic book series. I love cooking and food and life. I love my kids and as hard as things get sometimes the one thing that I will never do is give up on our neat little unit that we've become. I just can't get over the feeling that there's enough wiggle room in there for one more.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Fighting Back
I wrote this a year ago after a brief arguement Mr. Seven Year Itch and I had that ended our relationship. That breakup lasted all of a week. I took it down at his request. I guess the truth hurts. Reading it now, if for nothing more than getting it out of my system, I feel that it's necessary to share it again.
You don't get to lie and get honesty in return.
You don't get to destroy every part of her being and expect her to still be there when you decide you want her again.
You don't get to expect her to reciprocate the advances you make towards her after torturing her emotionally non-stop.
You don't get to know the past if your future with her is something you aren't showing her that you want to happen.
You don't get to know her when you make it clear that everything about who she is displeases you.
You don't get to know how amazing she is when you refuse to let her shine.
She can't fly like the social butterfly that she is when you get jealous at her going to the grocery store alone simply because she didn't tell you that she was going.
You don't get to cage her up out of your own insecurities and expect her not to fight you.
You don't get to tell her that she can trust you when you've cheated her in every way possible.
You don't get to put your hands on her in all the negative ways and expect to reach her heart in a positive one.
You don't get to expect someone else to make you happy when you make yourself miserable.
You don't get to give half of the information and expect to get all of it in return.
You don't get to cheat and expect not to be cheated.
You don't get to be there as you see fit and aren't there for what really matters.
You don't get to ignore her and expect to get attention.
You don't get to do what makes you happy and put her in a cage of misery.
You don't get to act like you're the wounded animal when she bites back for a change because she's finally learned to love herself more than you ever did.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Free At Last
I was in a relationship for 7 years. When the breakup initially happened, I was like The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Full of life, totally excited to break free from my stranglehold, and face the world head on. And then I started dating again.
It all started when my sister threatened that if I didn't do something to put myself out there soon, she was going to create a dating profile on a random site for me. See, my ENTIRE family seems to have this odd fear that I'm never going to settle down and find someone who will marry me. But here's the thing: I want nothing more than to settle down. I want a partner to do all the things that couples in my never ending Rom-Com collection do, complete with Sunday morning banana pancakes and snuggling in bed. I already have the independance, the kids and the career. All I need now is the man who wants to be a part of it all.
But here's the other thing: I hate dating. I am a true believer that the Universe has got it all wrong when it thought that random strangers having some kind of Meet-Cute and getting to know each other was a good idea. Wouldn't it all just be much easier if the one person that was meant for us just showed up at our doorstep? Like a Mr. Perfect delivery. Someone should get on that shit, and fast.
I have set up 2 profiles. One on a popular site that I had some success with in the past and the other a dating app that links with Facebook claiming that it's to avoid fake profiles. That has proven itself to be a crock, as half of the profiles on there are fake names and ages and have the balls to state such. Yes, I have a Snapchat account. No, I don't want to use it to receive pictures of your abs and morning wood. I have chatted with several guys. Some not worth mentioning. Some very memorable but will save for a different time. Two dates so far. The first one was excruciating, in the "We have nothing in common and I have no idea how to talk about computer programming because I'm lucky I can even get mine to turn on" way. The second, very pleasant. Adorable man, very sweet and a profile that embodies everything I want from life. Nevertheless, hope for either of them coming into my grid again is nonexistant. Again, both saved for a different time.
I am currently talking with someone that I like. A lot. And he seems to like me. For the time being, I will refer to him as, "Mr. Chef". I say "seems to", but he's told me. Several times. We have yet to meet in person and would have if I could get over the fact that I might actually be worth getting to know. I can't get over this overwhelming fear of, well, everything. We talk for hours. He always leaves me feeling like I've just left a coffee date with my best friend. Only I think about doing bad things to him.
Mr. 7 Year Itch keeps coming around and calling. I almost don't know what to do with him. He's become the boyfriend I've always wanted from him now that he's not my boyfriend anymore. And there is no hope for us getting back together, so everyone that knows about that situation can sigh relief. I was brainwashed into feeling that he wasn't the type of guy you would leave if you could help it. But, even if it was just always in the back of my mind, I was always made to feel dispensible. Something came to light recently that changed everything that I knew about our time together. That if I had previously entertained a slight glimmer of the vision that I had of our future together, it is now gone. I was so in love with him. And I trusted him so much. And now all I feel when I am near him is disappointment. Frankly, for lack of a better cliche, my kids and I deserve better from someone. I will leave it vaguely at that. For now.
So after the succession of boys that haven't called back or just fizzled out into the interweb, the one that won't go away and the one who leaves me smiling, I sit here with my computer going through the past 7 years worth of photo sessions that I had with Mr. 7 Year Itch, deleting the unimportant or unprofessional ones, editing and dividing them into categories. And then it occured to me. Life is just a bunch of categories that we all file away. Not as if they were unimportant to us, but because it's simply time to move on. And that is exactly what I intend to do.
It all started when my sister threatened that if I didn't do something to put myself out there soon, she was going to create a dating profile on a random site for me. See, my ENTIRE family seems to have this odd fear that I'm never going to settle down and find someone who will marry me. But here's the thing: I want nothing more than to settle down. I want a partner to do all the things that couples in my never ending Rom-Com collection do, complete with Sunday morning banana pancakes and snuggling in bed. I already have the independance, the kids and the career. All I need now is the man who wants to be a part of it all.
But here's the other thing: I hate dating. I am a true believer that the Universe has got it all wrong when it thought that random strangers having some kind of Meet-Cute and getting to know each other was a good idea. Wouldn't it all just be much easier if the one person that was meant for us just showed up at our doorstep? Like a Mr. Perfect delivery. Someone should get on that shit, and fast.
I have set up 2 profiles. One on a popular site that I had some success with in the past and the other a dating app that links with Facebook claiming that it's to avoid fake profiles. That has proven itself to be a crock, as half of the profiles on there are fake names and ages and have the balls to state such. Yes, I have a Snapchat account. No, I don't want to use it to receive pictures of your abs and morning wood. I have chatted with several guys. Some not worth mentioning. Some very memorable but will save for a different time. Two dates so far. The first one was excruciating, in the "We have nothing in common and I have no idea how to talk about computer programming because I'm lucky I can even get mine to turn on" way. The second, very pleasant. Adorable man, very sweet and a profile that embodies everything I want from life. Nevertheless, hope for either of them coming into my grid again is nonexistant. Again, both saved for a different time.
I am currently talking with someone that I like. A lot. And he seems to like me. For the time being, I will refer to him as, "Mr. Chef". I say "seems to", but he's told me. Several times. We have yet to meet in person and would have if I could get over the fact that I might actually be worth getting to know. I can't get over this overwhelming fear of, well, everything. We talk for hours. He always leaves me feeling like I've just left a coffee date with my best friend. Only I think about doing bad things to him.
Mr. 7 Year Itch keeps coming around and calling. I almost don't know what to do with him. He's become the boyfriend I've always wanted from him now that he's not my boyfriend anymore. And there is no hope for us getting back together, so everyone that knows about that situation can sigh relief. I was brainwashed into feeling that he wasn't the type of guy you would leave if you could help it. But, even if it was just always in the back of my mind, I was always made to feel dispensible. Something came to light recently that changed everything that I knew about our time together. That if I had previously entertained a slight glimmer of the vision that I had of our future together, it is now gone. I was so in love with him. And I trusted him so much. And now all I feel when I am near him is disappointment. Frankly, for lack of a better cliche, my kids and I deserve better from someone. I will leave it vaguely at that. For now.
So after the succession of boys that haven't called back or just fizzled out into the interweb, the one that won't go away and the one who leaves me smiling, I sit here with my computer going through the past 7 years worth of photo sessions that I had with Mr. 7 Year Itch, deleting the unimportant or unprofessional ones, editing and dividing them into categories. And then it occured to me. Life is just a bunch of categories that we all file away. Not as if they were unimportant to us, but because it's simply time to move on. And that is exactly what I intend to do.
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