Untied Thoughts

"Spiritual transformation brings us to the point where we realize that in our own being, we are enough.  We don't have to become anything but what we are.  Life will fine tune us no matter the path we choose...  If we let it.  Ego tells us we are not enough, yet spirit made us naked and vulnerable for a reason.....  One way or another, humility comes at some point before we go on to meet our maker.  There is simply no escaping it.  So what if your smile is crooked and you walk with a limp, you're still smiling and going somewhere while you do it.  Maybe just help someone along the way, that's the most beautiful you will ever be, in the service of others."
- Ram Dass

 "Don't feel bad about demolishing a few things in order to build a better you;  wrecking balls don't apologize."
- Owen Lindley

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That was my quota of quotes for the day, onto the blog!!!!

Something to keep in mind for future reference:  When a girl is either eating ice cream straight from the carton or alcohol straight out of the bottle or some days in my case both, you do not under any circumstances ask her how she's doing.  Don't do it unless you are ready to bare the full brunt of the emotional outburst that I am working to avoid.  You will either get tears or whatever I'm holding thrown at your head.

With that said, I'm pretty sure there isn't a heartache that a night in with Beringer white zinfandel, chicken fried rice from Ming's Garden and Wayne's World can't get you through.

I apologize if some of this doesn't make sense.  There have been a lot of random working through things going on in my mind.  It's like prepping for an estate sale up in my head, there's a lot of sorting to be done before anything can really be fixed.  Sometimes, you've just got to be able to listen to yourself and be okay with no one else understanding.  I haven't been in that place for a long time and it's good to be back here.

It's so bizarre that someone who for what felt like eternity was a huge part of your life and they were always thought of as someone who was going to be there forever; for one reason or another by the time catastrophe came and swept them out of your universe you were convinced that they meant nothing to you to the point that it was weightless to you to let them go and yet on certain days, like Sunday, it takes the combined effort of every atom in your body to keep you from being crushed by the weight of their absence.

I will say, that I am settled a little more than I was.  I got to spend time doing what I love doing to those who love doing it with me.  Nothing like a random drive and a shoot in my happy place on my day off.  I blew off steam in less self-destructive ways than usual;  that was nice.  I'm happy dancing with the notion that I'm feeling much more like I feel more comfortable on my new found pathway than I have the past two months.

To be completely transparent, 3 months into the journey into the black hole I found myself at the bottom of, I have consulted with my doctor and am now on medication for anxiety.  It's something that I can take as needed, which is nice.  I really don't want something to take every day that is going to screw with my brain chemistry and send me off the deep end like I experienced a few years ago.  What I have been going through is situational, it will get better, but in the meantime it is kind of nice to not become paralyzed with fear and cry and hyperventilate while taking a shower while home alone because I couldn't remember whether or not I had checked the front door to make sure that it was locked before heading upstairs.  Not only did that happen 3 weeks ago, but it was also the breaking point in seeking help.  No, certainly not the binge drinking, impulsivity or lack of sleep couldn't have done it sooner....   I went through Hell trying to stabilize myself on my own.  Whatever, the day came, and I have never been more grateful for listening to myself.

On the job front, things are working out wonderfully.  The dating world has proved itself difficult, but I will thank it for the lessons about myself that I have learned as of late.  My emotional well being evening out has opened a portal to the more creative part of my brain, I've been writing like crazy;  I have about 4 projects going on throughout the house at the moment.

My sister came back home.  Last week was nice to have her around and get to spend some time physically with my niece and nephew.  I'm looking forward to this Sunday, I get to see the bonus-brother that I haven't seen in 20 years.  Family time is truly my favorite thing in the world.  There is, however, one statement that I would like to make about that:

What I allow to be seen on social media about my personal thoughts, dating life and social life are exactly that, the parts of me that I allow to be seen.  I have two kids, yes.  I spend much more time with them and doing other things than what it appears that I do on social media for two reasons:  1.  Because they're human beings with thoughts and feelings of their own and I fiercely respect their right to their privacy and 2.  See reason #1.  It really is that simple.  Being judged based on what you think you know without actually getting to know me is alright; because if you think that treating someone like that is an okayish thing to do, you don't belong where I am in the Universe.  

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Lessons learned and random thoughts I've had and written down:

They really should get rid of Valentine's day and replace it with Second Thanksgiving.

I don't take no for an answer from anyone, why am I accepting this from myself?

My creative mind takes a back seat to work and responsibility most of the time;  and I hate it.

That it takes bravery to show up in your own skin.  Blending in is the easiest way to lose the precious parts of ourselves.  We all deserve to be seen and appreciated for what we bring to the table;  even it's just cheez-its.  At least I'd sit with them, I like cheez-its.  Point is, be you.  The world will fucking adjust.

Thank you, pints of ice cream, for starting off as a nice treat and ending as a sad realization that I have no self control.

I love sarcasm.  It's like punching people in the face, but with words and most of the time they're too stupid to realize it.

The thought of being broken again terrifies me more than the notion that I am going to be alone forever.  That's why I don't let anyone get close to me.  Too many failed long-term endeavors of the soul has made me okay with the welcoming of short-term hearts into my bed.  It's easier.  Sometimes even I feel like there are parts of myself I find coaxing out of the darkness like a feral cat that's about to attack me.

I feel that you can tell a lot about someone by the way that they answer questions.  Or don't, for that matter.

We are all just one really good or bad thing happening in our lives away from becoming a completely different person.

I would choose a love letter tucked under my pillow after a night in cuddling and watching a movie over a night in a fancy restaurant or club and a bouquet of cut flowers hands down.  Unless they're wildflowers from the side of the road, that's just adorable.

Not a single one of us gets to choose who, how or why we love.  Things get interesting when you learn to stop fighting it.

Imagine how amazing the world would be if we all obsessed about the things that we loved about ourselves...

I am always stuck in a limbo between giving someone every ounce of my being and nothing at all.  I do love in the way that some people experience an earthquake.  I don't know how to be subtle.  On one hand, I want nothing more than to create meaningful relationships and on the other, if they leave at least I'll get out of it unscathed if I, for lack of a better term, play dead. I love badly - or at the rate people leave my life I have come to the conclusion that I must be.  I don't know how to do something in between or have patience enough to wade around and see what something will turn into.  I want it to already be what it will.  It amazes me that I still have a heart at all after what I've gone through.  I want to be left alone and held tightly by big strong arms all at the same time;  not too much to ask, right?

My mind never stops running and neither do my thoughts of feeling like I'm less than enough.  All I've ever needed is for someone to hold me down and quiet the exclamation marks.  

It isn't that I'd want to die in my sleep, but waking up means feeling.  I don't want to hear about how things could be.  We could be in love if it wasn't because you are an idiot, yet here we are. My heart is too damn big to be treated as if it's small. 

Unconditional

You tried to change didn't you?
Closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him traveling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can't make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

- Warsan Shire "For Women Who Are 'Difficult To Love'"

So much stress, sadness, heartache.


I'm done with it all.  I don't think I can take any more of it.  I'm sitting here on my bed at the moment.  Outside is a horrible rain storm and the wind is hitting my house harder than it did during a hurricane we got 3 years ago.  Normally the house shaking as bad as it does would be worrisome to me but all I can feel is a weird peace.  

"Finally, the Universe is showing everyone else what is going on inside of me."

I have spent the past week filled with volatility.  I just want to scream and cry and throw things.  I want to drink until I feel nothing and lay around in my sweatpants eating cheese doodles and watching Wayne's World and There's Something About Mary until my eyes fall out or I finally give in and cry.  I hate everything because I want to be loved and I'm not. I want to stop being made a fool of.  I just want to get my stuff and be done with it.  He doesn't want me.  He doesn't need to speak the words.  

If someone wants you, they call you back when they see that you've called.  They text you.  They go out of their way to see you (the 35 minute trips to your town weren't just for dog food, dumb ass.  My dog weighs 13 pounds, how much could he possibly eat?)  They act like they're actually glad that you exist.  I'm not looking for flowers or jumping up and down or even a fucking parade, maybe a hug?  Maybe an acknowledgment that I exist every now and again?  One can only beg so much before their spirit is bruised.  All I wanted was 5 minutes, and all I get is crickets.  I'm supposed to think that he wants me and thinks I'm special how?  Exactly.  I'm not.  I'm not fighting with him.  I'm being realistic.  I want him.  He's all I've ever wanted.  I don't have him.  Why waste any more time?  Get it over with, stop dancing a jig on my heart and break it allfuckingready.  

I can't help but think that the universe is punishing me for something.  I don't understand.  All I have ever wanted was to be cared for.  To be loved and know it.  I haven't exactly earned it, but I certainly don't deserve to be ignored and treated like I'm worthless. I'm not going to ever be sorry for telling someone that the way that they're treating me isn't okay.

But as much as I want to lay down and quiet my mind, life must go on.  I put on the makeup and do the hair and the cute outfit complete with cute shoes as perfectly as I can.  I smile and laugh and spend time with my family who is in town - so nobody knows what happening under the surface. 

**I will add with the exception of 3 very close friends, whom I am more grateful for now more than ever.  I owe you all baked goods of your choosing for putting up with my moment of temporary insanity.  This is just temporary, or at least I'm pretending to take your words for it.** 

Did I mention that I can't cry?  I'm a crier, but I haven't cried.  I'm angry.  I even cry when I'm angry - nothing.  I felt things - Gods.  Damn.  It!!!!  I opened my entire being to him and he just peeked inside like some snobby window shopper, tried everything on for size, threw everything inside of me on the floor and kept right on a movin'. 

"Sorry folks, I just don't carry anything ego-sized." 

And as I write this, I look at the pictures on my phone at some that I took of my grandparents.  True love, defined.

My grandmother was recently hospitalized for some serious medical conditions and it's not the first time.  Everyone in the family was worried sick and since there were no available beds at a local hospital, she was shipped to one almost 3 hours away.

I went on a road trip with my aunt on my one day off for the next 6 days, who is also my best friend.  On the way down, we laughed so hard that we almost died on the interstate, needless to say we make our own good time.  It was a nice break from my mind.  

My grandfather was already down there.  He said that no matter what he was going down there and he wasn't coming home without her;  and at that point we didn't know exactly what was going on.  We got to her room and being the stoic that he is he doted on her and we all told jokes and had a good time keeping up each other's spirits and holding each other up with the "everything is going to be fine" look.

Watching the two of them together amazes me.  They would do anything to make sure the other was happy.  He was laying across the end of the bed telling stories and jokes to keep her smiling.  This was a very serious time, we didn't know how bad things were then (fortunately things were not as bad as they could have been and she was able to go home after a procedure), but it didn't matter.  He was doing everything and anything he could to keep her happy and comfortable and take her mind off the fact that any second they could get some really bad news.  

They were so worried about each other.  Smiling and laughing and loving each other in a way that you only can when you've loved someone forever.  They've been through everything together.  How many women would date a guy let alone marry him when he wants to marry you so that he can adopt a 3 year old little girl that isn't even either of theirs?  Because that's what happened...Long story short, my mother was left at the daycare that his mother ran out of their apartment and my grandfather met and married my grandmother so that he could adopt her.

And maybe that's my problem.  I was always taught that conditions are unconditional;  that people who mean something to you should always know it.  I don't do things in half measures because I don't know how to.  That's where my bar is set.  Love me like that; when life throws you a huge curve that terrifies you, as my partner - no matter what, or don't love me at all.  

This will all sort itself out, somehow.

And yes, I started crying halfway through writing this blog post.  Finally.  And no, I'm not drinking any alcohol.  I've taken a moment to actually experience my feelings instead of stuff them down.

Repost: Nonsensical Rant

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.

Uneasy Silence, Curiosities And Visions

Having your shit together isn't all that it's cracked up to be.  

                                           - Me, after a week of actually having my shit together.

When I was little, like in the earliest of memories;  I recall being outside hanging out with my Papa and asking him why he did what he did with his life.  He told me that I should find what makes me happy and let it be who I am until I die.  

I don't know how not to be who I am.  I am kind and smart and funny and I try my hardest to make everyone in my life happy.  I see absolutely no point in being something other than exactly who you are.  I have always refused to water myself down for anyone.   I don't let people get close to me if I don't feel that the value we have in each other's lives is mutual.  Most of the time I get bitten square in the ass for it.

I think that's the ploy all along with some people:

"I'll find you when it's clear that you're not looking.  I'll make you love me when you were busy convincing yourself and the Universe that you were unable to feel anything ever again with a calming touch and beautiful words.  I'll look at you like the most magical creature I've ever seen.  And then I'll flee the scene skipping before you realize what even happened with just barely enough time to wash your blood from my hands after squeezing your cold, dead heart until it was merely an afterthought to me."

The time we spend together leaves me feeling like we're flying around each other like lightning bugs on a perfect summer evening but we're both too stubborn to land first.

 I had somehow become married to my loneliness and that's where you found me.  I tried to fight you out of my mind but I can't help but keep writing my admiration of you.  Writing it out feels like the best and the worst moment all at the same time.  I talk about it with friends who look at me like I've morphed into some punch drunk love teenager.  I highly doubt that this is what I'm acting like, but I definitely felt something other-worldly the second your lips touched mine.  I recognize this feeling, not because I've experienced it in this lifetime;  but because it's visited me in dreams like a vision of something I knew that I had experienced before.  I read once that feelings you experience in dreams are actually memories from a past life;  that meeting someone and having that same feeling means that your atoms met somewhere long before we were in our bodies that we have today.  

Maybe that's just my well-hidden hopeless romantic talking that secretly loves the movie Titanic and couldn't make it 1/3 of the way through The Notebook before I was crying and fighting the urge to throw things across the living room (I still haven't been able to make it more than half way through before I have to shut it off and then I'm a raging bitch for days - insert rant about how tired I am of looking at everyone else on the planet getting what I want more than anything).  I won't even get started on The Great Gatsby.

I can proclaim a masterpiece for you in this blog of mine repeatedly, but my vocal chords turn to concrete at the sight of your face;  keeping me from saying what I need to in order to voice my need for this to be mutual.  Instead, it's easier on my heart to dismiss any nice things that you say to me and accuse you of sleeping with half the planet and push you away with the dismissal that you're just screwing with me because you enjoy killing me slowly like some narcissistic serial killer of hearts instead of accepting what you're telling me to be true. 

Constantly questioning the Universe:  "Is this an ocean or a puddle?"  My ability to tell has been skewed by muddled signs of self preservation and punch drunk curiosity.  I run a constant race with my emotions and it's usually ego that falls flat on it's face first with inner peace coming in dead last.  It just sits in the middle of the track waiting to be kissed, checking out the dandelions.

I wish you were real with me.  Instead you walk this earth chasing every right you could have had in every wrong creature with your hand of stacked cards and gilded smile;  taking a large chunk of their being for yourself to keep in your menagerie so that no matter how hard they try, nobody will ever make them feel complete again after you've left.  You might look for my kindness and my words and my touch everywhere;  but will never find it again, even from me.  There is no anger this time.  This exile of yours wasn't my decision.  You made me embrace the fall in your canyon and I jumped;  not realizing it was a volcano.  It was beautiful and freeing and defiant and everything I could have hoped it would be.  I'm only sorry that you can't bring yourself to jump with me.  I can see miles down our road from where I am.

Converse with me, but don't look at me.  Your eyes cause a molecular change in my spirit and my mind becomes amputated from my mouth and my heart is at the control panel and that's not a good thing if we want to avoid burning to ash.  My tongue doesn't follow direction well.  The way I feel about you has become so ingrained in me that I would set myself on fire if you asked for light.  But your words are hitting my ears as faint as a coin you've flipped into a well of abandonment and echoing just as hollow.  Words, that's all you give me.  I'm tired of waiting for you, patiently watching you gambling copper in hopes of promises of gold.  It's infuriating.  

I've grown accustomed to goodbyes without ever speaking the words "It's over".  I keep waiting for your grand deployment from my life;  praying with every atom of my being that it never comes.  I could watch you watching the news on the couch and not hear a thing but find a million things about you that I can't get enough of.

There's nothing that can ever keep me from you.

Except you.

Onwards

She didn't want to leave things like this

But it was at the point where her heart and brain

Were constantly at odds with his ego

And she couldn't have that

She decided that half-measures would 

No longer be acceptable

And did the only thing that she could  

She straightened her makeup

Took a deep breath

And moved on in the grandest way she knew how

Remembering her forgotten worth

And loving herself more

-Cynicallovebird

Tumultuous

You are the most beautiful storm I have ever seen
          And I will always be the ship sailing into it.
Under every wave,
          Trying to catch a glimpse of who happened to you.

Trying to unload my cannon-fire into your crests 
          To soften the blows of the past that I'm an innocent in;                 You never crash into me hard enough to damage,
      But always just enough to leave a reminding sting 
                 When we get too close.
I'm constantly on guard.
As much as I am frightened by the realization 
               That you have the power destroy me completely
          I love it even more.
Stop trying to contain my wildfire!
     Forcing me to flicker into a simple flame.

I feel like I'm at the helm holding up my secret box of                        Unopened love letters.
Fodder from this wounded soul;
I wonder if you have any idea how curious I am to know 
          If that smile you gave me was a ploy 
            Or if I was as pleasing to your eyes as you are to mine.
I want to be drunk on your nostalgia.
I wonder what would you do if I randomly grabbed your                      Hand so I could dance with you 
               In the peaceful symphony of silence 
     That falls over the world 
         When you touch me in the kitchen 
                                  As my favorite song plays.
I wonder what kind of thoughts keep you up 
                 On a sleepless night; 
How you take your eggs or if you hate them like I do
          And how you take your coffee.
What your biggest regret was,

        Or rather who.

  Trying my damndest to give them to you and to show you that I'm real; 
               But your waves just dance around me.
Refusing to acknowledge anything except for 
       The pain of my past avoidance.
You must understand this:
      I am terrified of sparklers,
          And I always knew that you were fireworks.
And now that I'm here you won't play fair.
Trying to push me back ashore.
Stop trying to wash away memories 
                That haven't happened yet.

What makes you tick like the broken clocks you collect
             As if you're Captain Hook?
Or perhaps you're just the Unabomber of hearts
                     With your dynamite lit at the wrong end.

Seven Year Itch

I cannot forgive you,
The man who has hurt me. 
But I can forgive the child that was 
      Before you became this monster. 
He was innocent once.
Before we all grew up and started trying to kill each other
     And loved and adventured without fear of a THE END.

You sang hypnotically to my soul
     And I ran because I saw that you were bleeding and needed me.
There was so much red I stopped being able to see straight.
I knew that you were going to be one for the books.
I have fallen and gotten scraped from time to time,
     But you simply gutted me.
In what feels like seconds you had me drowning 
     In your hypnotic confusion.

The words you spoon fed me were holy.
Not like religion as you had hoped, 
     But like Swiss cheese.
I still nailed myself to a cross made out of apologies anyway.
I know I'm nothing to you.
I'm a fucking plagiaristic copy of every other being 
     You spewed invisible promises at.
I'm still finding myself wanting answers to this myth of yours.
You were always more beautiful as a stranger.
Are you sick or just from Hell?

One of these days I will forgive myself for falling in love
          With someone who never existed in the first place.
In minutes I was ripped from my happy place by you.
And somehow thought I'd be fine
          And just grateful that I made it out of your sickness alive.
Bright sides...
     There'd be no art if your rose colored glasses 
          Weren't kaleidoscopes in disguise.

I keep wondering why I'm not telling myself 
     That I'm going to be alright.
I'm reaching,
     But there are not arms for me to find solace in.
There is something about this new found silence that now has me more scared 
     Of being alive than of dying.
I am an escaped hostage who can't find her way home 
     Standing in her own living room.

I was always the brave one.
         The warrior.
If you know what's good for you,
     You'd drop the act and do the right thing.
You should have killed me.
As always it was half-assed 
     And still managed to rip everything I am out of my soul.
I'm still in here somewhere.
What will you do when you find that your discarded pawn 
          Was really the queen you were searching for?
I still find beauty in your "almost".

I Believe...

That just when you think you have lost all hope and admitting defeat and letting go feels like the only option, sometimes unexpected surprises turn up.

That sometimes spewing honesty at someone other than who it's meant for can be a good way to gain a new perspective without destroying a relationship that means everything to you; cathartic even.

That best friends were invented for times when our souls are screaming.

That tequila and pool tables were invented for times when you need to get something out of you that you can't quite put your finger on;  because it's going to come out whether you want it to or not.

That drunk feelings are sober thoughts minus caution.

That Mad Libs were invented for times when you need to feel like you're going to die from laughter;  the hands-down best way to make a grumpy, hormonal teenager get out of a slump.

That people who were not taught the meaning of NO as a child make the shittiest adults on the planet.

That when you realize that it's not actual defeat that you feel but rather a simple shock to the system, you can find healthier ways out of your own mind.

That teaching a child the things that you loved when you were their age is the most important thing in the world.

That if you have done everything you can to heal your wounds you should take all precaution to avoid what broke you;  but find a way to do it in such a way that you don't forget what makes you happy or how to live.

That if you are taking a time out to regain your sanity, the amount of calories in a pint of Ben & Jerry's doesn't count.  Negative calories if things are so awful that you've holed yourself in your room and are watching a movie in bed.  Double negative if it was because a boy made you cry.  I highly recommend Chunky Monkey for those times.

That sometimes when you are feeling like going shopping it's better to just pull everything out of a closet to appreciate what you already have - and maybe get rid of some of it because you realize what a hoarder you really are.

That most of the time, oceans are mere puddles and we should just find the joy in jumping in them instead of drowning ourselves in misperception.
  

Mid-Morning Observation

I'm messy when I'm human.
I mistake puddles for oceans and before I know it, 
I'm having a drunken one night stand or changing my hair or rearranging furniture and deep cleaning my closets or starting a new project that I know I'll never finish in an attempt to disinfect my feelings that are crawling under my skin like the sand worm in Beetlejuice in order to get you off of my mind.
It never works.
I need a new escape plan.

My dog will watch intently while he decides whether or not you are worthy of putting your hands on him.  
This could take minutes or it could take months;  
but he will never rush to his decision.  
Once he has chosen you, 
he'll spend every moment in your presence reminding you of his love and demanding yours.
He is the smartest 9 year old I have ever met. 
I wish that I could be more like him.
I on the other hand,
feel like a big dumb dog who is stupid excited for a belly rub every time that way you look at me crosses my mind.
Brain shut off, 
not caring how vulnerable I've just made myself.
Foreign, alienated, yet at home.  
Invigorated, yet settled.

None of the physics and all other things logical-defying devices that I've crafted over and over in my mind have been able to outrun those who have left my life. 
I don't miss most of them.
Chronically allergic to human relationships.
That's what I've always described this "thing" that goes on inside of me as.
I've never lost a limb; 
but I bet that's exactly what losing you would feel like.

Museum

I used to believe in signs.                 Perhaps I still do, but I don't go looking anymore.  Words I thought were painted vividly are showing themselves to me but they're as muddled as braille.                  Honestly!                                          Constantly wishing and hoping...

If the Gods wish for me to read riddles, I wish that they would please take my permission and not hold back when they hit me with "Hello" square in the face.

There's a strange reassurance in your existence that helps remind me of mine - as if being here and loving you has begun to make me real.

I'll let you into my brain.               Walk amongst my favorite memories, 
safeguarded behind ropes and glass.         
I won't let you touch them.               
The broken little girl I have let you see isn't the one you're touching when you lay your hands on me.                           The heart you're watching beat behind the gilded sign is too damaged to ever be whole again.                               Remember, you're here on a free day pass.  A view like this isn't going to last long. I'll show you a glimpse of who I am and shutter the doors because I saw that you weren't paying attention.                    I will recount all of my favorite memories; not that you have any interest in getting to know who I am.                  You are a visitor, only welcome to listen.

It's not like I can't live without you.       I've done that already.          
It's just that suddenly being without you feels unnatural.                         
I've never been willing to pull the sun out of the sky for anyone.

Memories are meant for visitation not for residency.                                   I never wanted to be loved.                 It's just that being in the same room as your presence hits me in a place within that tells me I could have fallen in love with you with my eyes closed.                            The memory of the sparkle in your eye that you had watching me when you thought I didn't see you has made a home in my mind.         It was as if something inside of you had caught fire.                                   It was as beautiful as it was unsettling.

Carefully pay attention to the signs that read "Do not touch" and "For safety reasons, stay inside of this line".I wish you had brought a sledgehammer.

Whirlwind

Wavering between reality and dreams.
Beautiful words and common sense.
What I believe and what I'm told.
       Deflector shields are up.             My heart is going to explode under the confusion.                              They're staying that way until things are different.                                 And you know exactly what I mean by that.

Words need to start becoming actions.      You tell me how you feel like I'm everything but you act like I'm nothing.                I saw this coming from a mile away and jumped willingly into your tornado anyways.

          Be patient.  NO.                  It is you who needs to be more careful with me.                                     There's a big difference between patience 

        and tolerating the destruction                of my entire being.               

On Dating....

Dating sucks.

There are all of these unspoken rules about how you're not supposed to spill everything you're thinking and feeling.  Being the kind of person who has a tendency to blurt out the first thing on their mind, this is not a good rule for me.

Honesty goes right out the window and nobody seems to be a fan of using it anymore.  Common sense is so rare it's practically a super power.

Not to mention that I melt at the mere thought of someone being thrilled in regards to my existence on this planet.  That has yet to happen as far as I'm aware of.  

I am so tired of doubting whether people are coming or going in my life.  Finding a way to power through repeated rejection.  I'm good at not acknowledging the fact that I'm a human being, but I am finding it harder and harder lately.  And I think it all boils down to what one person has done to me.  In a good way, but in a bad way too; more so because when I am with them I feel like a dog looks when they're stupid excited about a belly rub.

You know what turns me on?  What keeps me coming back?
Effort.  Assurance.  Conversation.  Conversing - my favorite verb on the planet.  Show me that you care.  That you really want me.

Actions, things like letting me know that you're still watching me get into my car and drive away after you've walked me out and telling me to let you know when I made it home.  Responding to messages.  Acting like you're glad to hear from me.  Don't just say shit to make me fall in love with you if you're not ready for me to do that.  Don't tell me that I make you happy after you've ignored me for a month.  Especially after canceling plans by text message and thinking that it was a perfectly acceptable option.  When you pull shit like that, you're basically the human equivalent of a participation award.  Good fucking job, douche.

Picture it:  I went out for some drinks with my friend last night and I told her what had been happening with Mr. InvaderOfWhatTheFuck-Landia.  I told her about the cuddling that I'm actually comfortable with, and the staring into my eyes, and political debates and discussions that I'm actually enjoying and was mostly sober for and the spending the night and all the fucked up things happening in my head, like taking him to my camp.  What the fuck is that?  It took me a year of knowing Mr. Seven Year Itch before he got to go there, and it was another 5 years before I let him go again.  (**Note:  for me, camp is the happiest place on Earth and I wouldn't ever just take anyone who hasn't earned a place in my life because I'll be damned if anyone is going to desecrate it with their bullshit)  After clarifying not once, but twice, that I was fine with the cuddling, she asked if I needed to go to the Emergency Room to be checked for roofies or other drugs because she was genuinely concerned for my safety.  In her words, "I can see you enjoying a political debate before I can see you not screaming in terror when someone is trying to cuddle you, and even then I would need photographic evidence to believe it."  In other words;  this really has never happened before in the history of ever.  Holy Fuck balls. 

When I deactivated my POF account in the fall shortly after I met Mr. I, it wasn't because I was delusional enough to believe right away that he was the one;  it was because I FUCKING HATE DATING.  I didn't even really want to reactivate it 2 weeks ago like I did.  I've had some pretty interesting conversations.  And in response to something Mr. I. said, no, to the best of my knowledge, I do not have a fan club.  Not anywhere on this planet.

I'm starting to think my account should read:  

Super socially awkward, fun loving single mom of 2.  I'm an open book, but not a doormat.  Has a tendency to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind and is the only person in the entire world who actually wants what she says that she does.  I love being outside with my dog, laughing with friends.  I'm looking for friends, possibly more.  Definitely not just a one time hook up.  I honestly think that I'm the last person on the planet who thinks that loyalty is a thing to be proud of and doesn't see dating as a sport.  Lover of shows from 70's, 80's and 90's television.  Geeky t-shirt wearer.  Twisted sense of humor.  No fucks given, most of the time.  Compulsively organizes a closet or a drawer while the rest of the house looks like it exploded.  Kitchen alchemist - fudge catches fire when it boils over onto a glass top stove and then turns to rock, who knew :).  Lover of projects, just doesn't have the attention span to be able to finish the last 10%, no matter what it is.  Just for kicks pinup and fetish model - no being open about it isn't an invitation to ask for nude pictures or to disrespect me.  I don't judge other people's dynamics but if you're on here and you're lying to someone about it, look elsewhere.  I will love your pet and will probably be more affectionate with them than with you.  I have a very hard time not treating people like I've known them for the past millennium so don't take offense to my kindness.  I love to play games, just none that involve a person's vital organs if you catch my drift.  I'm not needy, I'm a very busy person and I care about the people in my life so if I make time for you please respect that.  Please have something intelligent to say, I love conversation.  I'm not looking to have a fantastic conversation one minute and be ignored and treated like I'm nothing the next.  I have the attention span of a squirrel, if you can hold my attention for more than five minutes I will love you until the Earth falls apart.  If you message me and all you can say is "What's up?" I'm going to ignore you. If all you can say to me is how amazing my boobs look in the black dress (**note, a picture I put on there on purpose to weed out the dicks), I will block you.   Oh, and don't be a lying douche.  It's just bad form.

And I don't have any interest or want to hear about all of the shitty relationships you've had constantly.  Or making me feel inadequate by sharing all of your amazing stories about how your ex had the most amazing body in the history of boobs.  Stop storing memories of failure better than a camel stores water.  Talk about the past at appropriate times;  sexy time, is not that time.

Another thing:  You know how some guys buy flowers or drinks in bars for girls?  Why can't people do that in other stores?  Like when I'm looking at a comic book store and someone walks up to me and offers to buy me the #13 Quantum Leap or some Calvin & Hobbes or that Stay Puft marshmallow man piggy bank (that I still regret not buying when I saw it at Bull Moose), there is a bigger chance that things would work out in their favor.

And when it comes to relationships:  fuck the flowers and the gifts.  I just want to know that you think about me because you don't just say it.  You show it by touching me like it's agony on your hands not to.

I give up.  

There May Be Life On Mars After All....

"When you get excited over a new sponge in the sink, you're at an all time low."

- Realized as I was waiting to see if my coffee was going to use it's powers for good or evil this morning.

I'm going to get honest for a minute.

The past 6 weeks have been Hell.  I have been in a space that, with no other way to put it, I was shut down from life.  When you have been involuntarily attacked within your own walls that you put up to protect yourself by someone that you trusted with your entire being, stuck in your own mind is a very bad place to be.  

I had panic attacks, sometimes several a day.  I cried more and harder than I have in my lifetime.  I have consumed more alcohol than I did in the entirety of last year combined.  I was angry.  Most nights if I got any at all, I could count the number of hours of sleep on one hand.  The stress was so bad that I broke out in hives and woke up every morning for two weeks looking like I had been wrestling with a tiger in my sleep.  I consumed more benedryl and advil than any stomach should have to bear.  My house is more of a wreck than usual.  I binge watched Netflix and did everything I could do to avoid seeing anything remotely happy or lovey-dovey.  I was compulsive.  I barely ate.  I was selfish.  I did what I needed to do to feel better come Hell or high water; no matter what that was.  I was honest with people about what I was feeling and thinking and I wasn't always nice about it.

And here's the thing:  I'm not sorry.

I reached out to people more than I was ever able to.  I forced myself to laugh until I wasn't forcing it anymore.  I became more conscientious about how I was feeling and embracing it instead of turning myself into an emotionless, exploding zombie trying to ward off feelings.  I ate good things to make up for the fact that I could barely eat and now that's all I want.  I started moving on with my life and it moved with me instead of crumbling like I was afraid of.  I did what I needed to do to relax regardless of the number of hours of sleep I got.  I sought inner peace until it wasn't running from me anymore.  Over the past week, things have slowly gotten better and I have faith that they will even more so.  I think my biggest hang up was that I didn't feel like myself and I was so focused on getting that back that I didn't realize that she very well may be gone forever.  And that I'm okay with it.

Sometimes, something really horrible has to happen in our lives;  shaking us at our very core.  Being thrown into a Hell that we didn't ask for;  learning to stop analyzing and asking questions I'll never get answers to and simply find a way out.  Then, and only then, are we able to come out able to see the beauty in something as seemingly simple as a new sponge in the sink.