Now comes the part of my Tumblr where I actually write stuff about
things. I sort of made this silly promise to myself that I would write
more and while I enjoy writing, I’ve discovered (in reading past blogs)
that I do my best (and most consistent) of it when I’m heart-broken. I
found this thought rather sad and very UN-customary (is that a word? eh,
fuck it. it is now) of the person I really am. So to honor myself, and
the little emotional girl who lives inside of me, I will do more of the
writing about good things, and day-to-day and the stupid, silly things I
do, say or see. Because, quite frankly,
that’s me. I’m not that silly girl who gets her heart broken every six months.
Well… ok, maybe that girl lives inside of me too. But hopefully she’ll move out soon.
————
As much as I look forward to long weekends, I secretly loathe them.
Those extra days only give Father Time a few extra punches in my head
that force me to think about things like feelings, and futures. Or it
gives him space to usher in more surprise attacks from pesky weeds that
continue to try and ruin my new garden I’m trying to cultivate. This
weekend was one of those weekends.
You know, I did the same thing you did this Thursday (well if you’re
in the U.S.) I spent long overdue time with my family. Everything was
cool, and great at first but after about the first 10 minutes I began to
get that urge to drive the fork I was eating turkey with through my eye
socket. I tried to calm the beast inside of me with shopping, and it
worked. I got a killer deal on a Playstation 3 from Amazon. The console
(complete with 160gb hard drive), an extra controller, and 2 games
(Little Big Planet and some Ratchet and Clank game) all for the cool
price of $199, and a shout out to Amazon for the free shipping. So that
left me with a feeling of euphoria for the rest of my Thursday. I mean, I
got an awesome deal, and I didn’t even have to put shoes on. Or get
pepper-sprayed. All and all I’d say…SCORE.
Friday was basically lame. I did nothing all day but watch marathons
of various shows on tv and I braved the crowds to buy Captain America on
Blu-Ray (for my new PS3 of course) for like $10 on a Black Friday sale.
I must say, I’m mildly obsessed with Black Friday shopping. Not for the
deals as I generally
HATE shopping but for
the people. People get fucking retarded for Black Friday and I love it.
It’s like I can finally get a glimpse of what it must’ve been like
during caveman-times, or what the madness will be like when the initial
zombie apocalypse finally
does happen and hordes and hordes of
people panic. I take a gigantic gulp of air into my nostrils and say
things like, “AHHH the smell of commerce!” (
Mallrats reference in case you’re playing along at home).
Saturday will forever be known as Dirty South day. He consumes my
Saturdays and every other one of my Sundays. Words can’t really express
what sort of feelings I’m having and/or developing for him. I think I’ve
mentioned it before in previous blogs but being with him is sort of
like walking for the first time. I feel like a baby deer. I’m all wobbly
and disoriented.
——————TANGENT ALERT———————
This entire process in the getting to know and developing a
relationship has all felt very strange, but I mean strange in a good
way. I’m very much consciously aware of all of my limbs, my organs and
the words coming out of my mouth and everything is seemingly in control.
My heart and my brain and learning to work together like they’ve never
done before.
Honestly, before I shed this new skin I would’ve already been head over
heels in love with this poor boy. I knew I couldn’t do that this time. I
owe it to myself not to fall too hard, too fast. His heart is an open
wound right now, and mine is just beginning to have the crime scene tape
removed from around it. I’ve got this white knight
syndrome thing I’ve discovered, or rather was pointed out to me by an
unlikely source, and I’ve really studied it and broke down my
relationships because of it. I seek out those that need fixing. And I
desperately try to fix them. Somewhere in this head, I think that if I
just love them enough, or care for them enough that they will somehow
wake up from the haze they’ve been living in and see that the world
isn’t such a cold place. Ya know, like a movie. What I’ve discovered is
that life isn’t a movie. (I know, right? DUUUHHH.) Usually all that
happens in real life is that you’re left with the decision of “Can I
continue to give myself up like this without anything in return?” or “Do
I want to spend the next 50-60 years of my life this way?” in the
long-run, you know it’s best to bow out, to walk away. Or crawl as I’ve
done. You’re left with emptiness. I made an effort to look at myself and
realize that this is what I was doing. Shooting myself in the
mother-fucking foot.
Maybe I don’t really need to fix someone, maybe I can just find a guy who is broken, but doesn’t
need me to fix him. He just wants me to
be there to see that he can fix himself.
I’m hoping that maybe I’ve found him. He’s just this beautiful boy
who is starting over and he doesn’t even see how bright he shines.
Actually I don’t think either one of us thinks the other sees how much
we light up the night. Perhaps, we can learn to be supernovas together?
————
END TANGENT—————
Back to Saturday. Saturday was great, except for the appearance of a
weed in my garden. My ex, let’s refer to him as the D-Factor, randomly
text me. And I swear to you, I’m psychic. A couple weeks ago, he
appeared in my dreams 3 times in one week. Then, he “poked” me on
Facebook, which I ignored. Apparently, he still kept my phone number.
But it gets creepier. There I was sitting there with Dirty South, his
dad, his sister, and step-mom and his dad (who already admittedly enjoys
fucking with me) had just finished the sentence, “Oh so you have cooked
for someone! Is he still alive to tell the tale?” and ‘chirp.chirp.’
TEXT MESSAGE from none other than the person I devoted 14 months (8 of
which we lived together) to. I wouldn’t have known it was him as I
deleted his phone number back in August when I finally closed the door
on that part of my life, but his text mentioned the Norwood Water Bill.
He wanted to know if I’d gotten it… Um… What? I’ve been gone from that
house since February. Of course I haven’t. So I only text back a
one-word answer “nope.” And I got a 2nd text that was a desperate
attempt to start a conversation with me. But to no avail. I ignored.
Immediately got upset. Pushed that down into my guts as I was with great
company, and went along about my night. When we left his dad’s house,
he asked if I was OK. For once in my life with a guy I was totally
honest and didn’t hold back how I felt right at that moment. I told him
no. I wasn’t ok. I was upset that I’d gotten that text. I was a mixture
of angry and confused. I let him see the messages as he got this worried
crinkle in his eyes. He half smiled and said, “Looks to me like someone
is still in love with you. Too bad for him because it’s my turn now.”
We talked about it, and everything was fine but I still kept some
feelings pushed down. I broke out into hives when I drove home that
night. I cried. All the romantic feelings I have for the D-Factor are
gone. But despite his unwillingness to give, and his lie that he left me
with I still care about him as a person. I think I always will. As
gratifying as it is to know that he’s lonely, and to know that he is
desperately trying to get me back into his life somehow and that maybe
he’s starting to see that he fucked up royally… I still don’t want to
think of him sitting around that house alone, and sad. I want to be able
to laugh at him like Nelson from
The Simpsons “Ha-Ha!” in a
‘you-made-your-bed-now-lay-in-it’ sort of way. But I can’t bring myself
to do be that way. Character flaw. So I dealt with those emotions and
came up with this:
Sometimes shit happens. You just have to choose to fertilize a new garden with it.
