Flip-flopping around

I realized something earlier today. I don't know shit. I don't like that word, but what else would I use? It describes it perfectly. For awhile now I've been living in this place. This place where I thought it was what was best for me. I thought to myself, "Christie, since having hope only leads to getting crushed and let down and ignored and being rejected by every potential relationship, isn't working for you, why not live in a place where your dreams are NOT coming true, because that's just what was meant to be?" I know that sounds weird, but I really thought it was what was best. I thought I needed to accept being alone for the rest of my life. Accept this in a way where I wasn't upset about it, it was just the way it is. Some people are meant to be alone. I mean look at the world. Is every single man and woman with someone or had someone and they died of old age? (because that counts as having someone. Having someone till your old counts. They just happen to die first. Sucks for the one left I guess, but your turn will come soon enough). No of course they are not all coupled up! This isn't the damn Ark! For both millions of reasons and no reason at all, people are alone... forever. They die alone. I thought that accepting forever single status would allow me to just enjoy my life without the distractions of "wondering" or "hoping," wishing on damn stars, throwing my life savings away in pennies down wells, trying and failing to connect and trying again... and again..and again. It seemed easier to me, in a way, because then I don't have to try to meet someone, like I have been for 8 and a half years. I don't have to try because this person doesn't exist. I thought it was what's best for me. I was ignorantly happy in a way. A denial happy. A pretend happy. But at the same time I wasn't happy at all. I was miserable. When that hope is gone, even that little sliver of hope that you had left, that hope you might one day run into that one person you're supposed to spend your life with, the one person that will love you for exactly who you are, but at the same time challenge you to change just by simply continuing to love you in all your failures. When that hope is gone, what is the point of living? While I see my life as something I can't control, I mean physically life or death control, because I could never do that to myself or the people who would be affected; I couldn't help but think... and wonder how much time I had left on this Earth? It's almost as if I thought if I was never meant to have someone in my life, then my life would end shortly. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone but me. Now that I'm typing this out I'm realizing that since I felt so strongly that one of the biggest and most important roles I thought I was created to play was both wife and mother, without those as a possibility anymore I thought to myself... well this must be it. The end. Maybe not this minute, maybe in X amount of years, but certainly not to my old age. Even writing about it freaks me out, and I kind of want to stop. I don't want to put that out there. I don't want to die anytime soon. Not at all. I don't know if we'll be able to "regret" in Heaven, it doesn't seem likely, but I still want to experience many things. Most of all love. Real love. Committed love. Physical, intimate love with the gender I was meant to have it with.  I have never experienced that. I know the 2 guys I dated loved me in a way. They told me so. They showed me often and they both said they wanted to marry me. But neither did. Of course in the long run this was what was best. I am SO happy those relationships didn't make it to the finish line. I would be trapped right now... probably daydreaming about another life I could've had... with the girl next door (metaphorically speaking, there is no girl living next door to me... but I guess there could've been, in that life). But I realized today, all of a sudden in fact, with nothing to ignite it or cause the realization; that I don't have to choose either one. I don't have to choose to live in a way where I'm accepting this life I have in this very moment forever, for the end of my time on this Earth. I don't have to choose to be completely and utterly content being single because there is no one out there for me and to just accept that. I also don't have to choose to live with hope that crushes me every other day. I can live somewhere in the middle. A quote from Ginny Owens, a blind Christian singer/songwriter just popped into my head. She said "you can  wonder, but you don't have to worry." Those are simple wise words. I can wonder if I'll run into this girl I feel is imaginary and only lives in the stories I make up and write out endlessly; but I don't have to worry that that won't ever happen. I don't have to worry about it, either way. Maybe it will happen, maybe it won't. But it's 50/50. Not 0/100. Always have hope things could change. Maybe you are doing all you can to put yourself out there. Maybe you aren't. But maybe you are doing the best you can in this moment in time, and be okay with that. Hope is an okay thing. I quoted Community  the other day on my Facebook page. This one character said this about hope, and I kind of had to agree: " Hope is pouting in advance. Hope is faith's richer, bitchier sister. Hope is the deformed, addict bound incest monster offspring of entitlement and fear. My life results tripled the year I gave up hope and every game on my phone that had anything to do with farming. What's true will be true. Our job is to deal with that truth." While that is a dark and comically harsh view of hope, I like the last line. 'What's true will be true. Our job is to deal with that truth.' Although if you think about it I won't ever really know the "truth" of my single status. So maybe this doesn't apply at all to this situation... bad example I guess. I'll try this one instead:
 "Patience is the key, because when the right time comes, it will be very beautiful and totally worth the wait." And just for kicks, some Wilson Phillips lyrics for ya: "Don't you know, things could change. Things could go your way. If you hold on for one more day." And since you don't know how many days that is... just keep holding on... indefinitely. You can do it. You're stronger than you think you are.

it's not you...it's not them...it just is.

It's a week before my little sister's wedding. I went from not wanting to be in the wedding at all, to being the maid of honor. As of today, one week before the wedding, I am the maid of honor. (I'm not even going to capitalize it, that's how unimportant I see it and not worthy of a capital letter). I am happy glad that my sister is getting married. It is what's best for all involved (meaning my parents and my sister). It's what's best for her well-being and my parents sanity, I can guarantee that. I, on the other hand am going to do my part. I'm getting there in the morning to set up the reception and the church, with my Mom. I've already assigned clean up to the sisters of the groom, who are also bridesmaids, so I don't have to stay later than is required of me. I mean let's face it, weddings are for 2 people- the bride and the mother of the bride. My Mom loves planning this kind of stuff and making centerpieces and boutonnieres. She did basically all the planning and all the work, well not basically, she did all but maybe one or 2 things. I guess there are people out there that freaking love weddings. I can't think of someone off the top of my head, but I'm sure many girls just eat them up. The dressing up, the dancing, the hook-ups with groomsmen...or maybe that's just a stereotype I got from too many wedding movies. You know I've been to a wedding or 2, or 10. I get the point and I get the celebration, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. That doesn't mean I should have to go to showers and oooo and ahh over a set of flatware or a soda stream machine. We get it. You get free stuff for being lucky in love. For finding someone that puts up with all your crap and says- "I'm not leaving! I'm in it for the long haul." Well good for you for being one of the millions of lucky people to have found that. That's exactly what it is, luck. Luck isn't reserved for just winning the lottery. That's something entirely greater than luck. That's way more rare than finding someone to at least commit the next X amount of years to you. Forever isn't possible. A life-time isn't true for half that marry (I don't know the percentage exactly. I don't bother with actual statistics and facts). But what was I saying? Oh yeah, weddings. I think when I went to the first 5 which were during my senior year of college and the summer after it, all very close friends, best friends in fact. Those weddings were great! I had a blast. I was happy for them. Genuinely happy for them. I was young and not jaded yet, I guess. Even though the guy I thought I would be marrying that same summer as many of them, broke up with me at the end of sophomore year, I had made it through it, I had survived. But as the years drove on; as I would make a new friend who was single like me, in their mid-20s, and then continuing the tradition into our late-20s. As this would happen, it seemed like it wasn't too long before they met a guy and poof, I was all alone again. I was friends with girls who had never had a serious relationship before meeting me and then suddenly they were finding "the one," and then I'd see them less and less, until not at all. It was like I was a good luck charm to everyone but myself. A real life four leaf clover. It was insane how often it happened. Or maybe it's just that falling in love and getting married are completely typical things for people of this world to do. Maybe it's not "me," it's just they are just like any other normal, sane, mentally stable, financially secure, educated, hot-blooded American woman. They find a like-minded guy and get married. (Just to be clear, I know that people who are not all those things I just listed get married all the time, I'm just pointing out (let's just say the more "healthy/long-term" marriages that come out of people in that category). It's entirely possible that two people that are already in the same category (those opposite of what's on my list), can and do fall in love and have lasting marriages. Just like those that fall into this more "stable" list of people can easily end up on the divorce line with all the rest. I guess my point being, those of us that I would call more "stable" NOT "better" than the rest; and that are still single and remain there indefinitely, are few and far between. It mostly happens in your 20s and 30s. I'm still in my 30s, but I'll be 34 in 18 days, and I feel like I'm losing out on time. I'll never get to say we were "childhood sweethearts," or get to celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary; not unless we both live to be really old, like Betty White old. But Betty White is one in a million. She looks and acts like she's in her 70s max, not 90s. She's freaking amazing. I can't have a solid 5 years with just us before we have kids. That would be ill-advised at my age. I would've loved to have 10 years just the two of us. I only want one kid, 2 at the most, so that should be pretty easy to ship off to the grandparents. Unless they're little hellions. Here's hoping not. There was a time I wanted 4 kids. 4 freaking kids!! I loved the idea of a big family, everyone stepping all over each other, forced to share and not be selfish. But now. That's never going to happen, I'm too old already to just be starting from scratch. I'd be in my mid-40s before the 4th one's out of diapers. Anyways. This has nothing to do with weddings. Well babies do sometimes encourage weddings. Wink wink.
I have a lot to say, don't I? I know it. I don't hardly ever have anyone to talk to, so these blogs are good for me. It's good to get things out. No one has to read it. It's mostly for me. I do try to offer some encouragement towards the end. So that if you did read it, you could get some reward for sticking out to the end. Here's your reward:
Don't let your friends, don't let society, don't let anyone dictate what your life should look like. If you're like me and your passions are writing and investing in character driven/storytelling TV shows; both of which make you think and care and feel. Well, you're just as awesome as that woman who is the world's most perfect wife and mother. No one's better than you because they've been given "more" or given to differently than you. Don't forget that. Just be you. You'll either find someone that likes you for you, or you won't. I don't believe it's because you're "bad" or not cool or not hot enough. It's just the way the world goes. Ask God or whoever you meet when your life is over, why you never had someone. Maybe they'll have an answer. It sucks though, I know. It sucks more for that person who is like me and just knows that they would be a really great wife and mother. It sucks for someone like me who wants those things. Many people out there want to be single and play the field and have fun and not be tied down by anyone, including children. I'm not one of those people. But there's really nothing you can do about it. Just keep trying. You never know who you might meet out on this huge planet. And if you want to write one really long letter to that Canadian actress that you are completely head over heels for, then do it. What's it going to hurt? At least you tried. At least you wrote down your feelings and put them out there. If you never try you'll never know. Also. Be your own cheerleader. You don't need others to cheer you on. Tell yourself that you can do it. You can't force anyone to want to talk to you, or continue to get to know you, but you can always try initially. Don't give up on yourself. Don't give up on people. I think that second one is even harder for me. I'm still here, I'm still kicking, but after so long of not connecting with another human being for the sake of a would-be dating relationship, I start to completely give up on people. I've even given up trying to make new, close friends. I mean, if they're just going to get married and have kids and see me a couple times a year, what's the point of trying to find new ones that will just repeat the same cycle? I know this isn't the set of Friends. Living with or across the hallway and seeing your best friends every single day of your life is completely unrealistic... but that doesn't mean I don't wish that I could see my friends every week or every other at the very least. But that's not happening and it's ok. It is what it is. So, to end back again on the positive notes I was writing before that brief detour... chin up. Hang in there. It'll either happen or it won't happen. Just enjoy your life and see what comes a knocking!
 "What's true will be true. Our job is to deal with that truth."  Frankie, Community.

in the coming days...

ONCE UPON A TIME

Once upon a time there was a girl named Christie. She was a happy girl. But there was a hole in her heart. She was missing something. She had a cat named Mollie, who was her whole world. Her family. She had parents too, but she was a grown woman now. She wanted more than that. She wanted her own family. She wanted... she needed, love. True love. Love in the human form. Love that fairytales were made of. Love that transcended all meaning. Love that is everlasting. She looked and looked for 8 long years. But nothing. She had finally realized who she was and who she was meant to be with. It was not who she thought she was end up with. All her friends married boys. She grew up thinking she’d meet a boy in college or maybe shortly after. She dated two such boys in these capacities but they broke her heart. She mended it back, and then she realized who she was really meant to love…and it was not a boy. It was a girl. A woman. So she searched high and low for years. Stepping out of her comfort zone time and time again, but still finding nothing. No connection to anybody. She felt defeated and lost. She gave up. She continued to live her life the way she wanted and did things that made her happy, like taking trips and seeing her favorite artists, like her hero Kristin Chenoweth.

She had an upcoming trip to Niagara Falls, Canada. The first time she would be out of the country. She was nervous, but excited nervous. A part of her wanted to meet Ali Liebert, the well-known Canadian TV and Movie star, who she had fell in love with and who has played a lesbian on TV and movies more times than it seems someone who is actually straight, would do. She had written a story of the two of them. Their life together. It was in an alternate universe, since that is the only way something like this could happen. It’s the only way Ali would ever fall for her. Christie wrote an actual letter to the real Ali Liebert last summer. She tried to sound as normal as possible, despite the obvious attraction and feelings she had for her, that could make her sound crazy. What Christie didn’t know was, that there was a girl in Canada for her. And she was going to meet her on this trip. She would find her maybe in the hotel lobby at breakfast. Or maybe out on the streets of the city, or maybe on a tour of the Falls. This woman would be her soulmate. There would be an instant physical attraction, but that would only lead them to talk to each other and discover how much they had in common. How much they both love Lost Girl and Bomb Girls, and girls in general. She would be a confident lesbian. She had girlfriends in the past, but Christie’s zero experience in that area didn’t concern this girl at all. In fact she intrigued her. There was something about Christie that this girl just had to get to the bottom of. Had to know her. Had to know her deep down. They would share a kiss on this trip. Just a kiss. Ok maybe a little feel-up as well, she is a hot-blooded woman for crying out loud. She hadn’t been kissed in over 8 years and she was dying for that level on intimacy from someone who understood her and cared about her and generally wanted to know everything there is to know about her. She wanted someone who craves to know another human being. Someone who wants to take the time to listen and ask questions, but who also is willing to share herself in that way too. To share her life with Christie. What has happened, who she is and where she plans on going. They talked for hours and when her vacation was over, they exchanged information, phone numbers/emails. They would see each other again. Real soon. It wasn’t goodbye forever. They were going to be in each other’s lives for a very very long time.

I am Christie. I am the author of this story. I am writing it into existence. Because sometimes life can imitate fiction. All the movies out there “Based on a true story” prove this. All those things happened, and they were good enough to make into a movie. My story could be made into a movie. Sure little things change here and there when you make a movie, but in the end, the big moments, the big picture, that doesn’t change. That is the heart of the story, why it was made into a movie in the first place. And the heart of my story is meeting someone that will change my life. That comes in and shows me that I can be loved in that way. I am pretty enough to be desired by another real, live human being. That I deserve intimacy from another human. Real intimacy. Intimacy in the emotional sense but also paired with the physical sense. That these desires and longings aren’t fiction. They aren’t fairytales that don’t come true. They are the non-fiction stories, they are the “based on true events” movie scripts. Why would I subconsciously choose to write all those letters starting when I was 16, to a future “husband” (turned future “love” and then turned future wife)? Why would I even write those and seal them away in a taped up shoe box years ago, if I wasn’t supposed to give them to anyone? I’ve been tempted over the years to open them up and read them, but I won’t. I can’t. They are not meant for me. I don’t even want to be tempted. I keep the original taped up box at my parents house. I have a newer one at mine, from the last 5 years or so. It’s been a long time since I’ve written one, but it doesn’t mean I won’t write more. I’m afraid if I had the box opened and not taped up, I would tear them all in pieces in a moment of complete and utter desperation and loneliness. When I’ve hit rock bottom and couldn’t stand one more minute of that isolation and despair. Those letters contain my deepest desires, but they also contain who I was at different stages of my life. They contain what I was feeling at age 16, or 21, or 30. They contain the deepest parts of me and show that no matter how I’ve grown or changed and learned and developed over the years, into a woman who knows who she is, what she wants and that she is worthy of love, one thing remains the same. The desire. The longing. The need to be held and kissed and loved fully by another being on this planet. Not that she would be perfect, or that I would be perfect. I don’t expect that. Just love. Just a willingness to try and work on us and ourselves individually. To not give up. To not enter commitment lightly, to be sure. To love when it feels impossible. I realize I can’t control what another person does. I can’t control that. I can only control me. But I won’t give up without a fight.

And Christie didn’t give up without a fight. She went into this trip to Canada, a magical place where the country anthem is “friendliness,” with her head held high. She was open and responsive to those around her. She would never give up. She would always try. She couldn’t control the story, but it’s always fun to try and pretend you can. Like it’s a script for a movie. A storyline for a show. The tagline reads: “Christie, a 30 something single woman finds love, in the most unbelievable of places…right in front of her face.”

accept, or not accept? That is the question.

I think if I'm being honest with myself, deep down I've known for quite some time that I'm always going to alone. For years it's felt like my cross to bear. For years I've tried to ignore it and say, no of course not, I'm NOT gonna be alone forever, it's just for now. But I feel that I am, deep down; it's just I've not wanted to accept it yet. During the months I've gone without really connecting with anyone or even trying to, not going out, not trying to meet new people, not even seeing my current friends (which isn't for lack of trying, they just have their own busy lives and I'm not a part of it in a real way anymore, just in a once every 3,4,6 months kind of way); during those months I have accepted a forever single status. That's mostly why I don't see the point in trying. If I am going to be alone for the rest of my life then it's a complete waste of time trying to meet new people, going to horribly boring meetup groups and meeting someone for dinner from ok cupid. There's no point in that, because it's not going to lead to anything. I am willing to go to things that I REALLY want to go to. Like one time a friend had her meet up group meet at her house to hear her friend play the guitar for us and it was awesome, the best night I've had with people I didn't know. And tonight I'm going to a coffee shop to hear a girl sing, and it's a part of a meetup group as well. I guess usually if it involves music, then I'll go, but these seem extremely rare. I only go because there's gonna be live music. I LOVE small, intimate concerts. I love acoustic guitar. My dream girl would be able to sing and play the guitar or the piano even.

Even if deep down I know I'm going to continue being alone for the rest of my life, it doesn't mean I don't want somebody. I do. I want it more than anything. I want it more than I want to win the lottery, and I want that ALOT. I want it more than I want children. As much as I want to be a Mom, I want this more. I would give that up, just to have someone in my life. Ideally, whoever I end up with, would most likely want kids too, but that's how badly I want someone, that I would be willing to give up what I want 2nd most in life, for what I want 1st. They used to be equal, but the older I get the more I want the 1st, not the 2nd one as much. I think being a Mom is extremely hard, but so is being a wife. No matter how hard it will be, I still want it and would work my butt off to be a good wife.

Just because you're not willing to accept something, doesn't make it not true. You can accept it and move on and have a good life (which I do most of the time), or you can not accept it and go out and do things you don't want to do or go places you don't want to go, just in the hopes that you might connect with someone and that it leads to a real relationship. Sometimes when I'm out somewhere and every where I look there's couples, I think how does everyone have somebody, but me? How did they meet? What lead to them being in a relationship? I have no idea. I feel like it involved alcohol, though. It seems like most of the meetup events involve one of 2 things- alcohol, or old people. I don't mean to sound mean about that, but it's the truth. I'm not interested in either one. I do have some interesting stories to tell, based on the many groups and events and such I've been to, so at least there's that. Then there's the single people you see and it's clear as to why they are still single. Usually, I can see that it comes down to a social breakdown of some kind. An inability to have a normal conversation or know how to talk to people. I may be shy but I know how to talk to people. I'm no more awkward than the next person. I am highly aware of how to act in social situations. So when I see that single person talking to themselves or talking about something so random and not reading that the other person could care less and doesn't want to be there, or there's just something off about them in the way they talk to other people or their body language, I do feel bad for them, but I can see why they might be single. But maybe they aren't! Maybe they found someone equally as weird as them, and if so, good for them! That's awesome. So then, why can't someone like me connect with anybody? Am I really that bad to look at? I don't think I'm boring. I know boring. I don't want to talk about the weather or even my job to a degree. I'm not saying I'm the life of the party, the funniest person around, but I know I make my friends laugh. It could just be that even though I don't think there's only one person out there for everyone, maybe in my case there is and I just haven't crossed paths with them yet. I would rather at least have a girlfriend for awhile than not at all. Not to say I would date just anyway for the sake of dating. The thing is, there's not even just one person for everybody, because if there was then everybody would have a love, even if that love died before you did. I refuse to believe that the 2 guys I dated were my only loves; because they found their true loves! They are married to them! They have kids with them! So they were not my true love and I'm still owed at least one. But people die all the time without finding love. I think that's cruel and I don't know how I feel about a God who allows such a thing. There's always going to be people who would rather be alone than be tied down to someone. There's always going to be circumstances as to why a certain person never found anybody, or more likely they drove that person away. Unfortunately addiction and mental illness can be too much for even a true love to handle. It makes me sad and I do hope those people find help AND have the support of a friend, at the very least. But I don't have any major issues that would make having a relationship a challenge. I'm sure I'd have the same problems as any couple has, in every day life. But if I found someone that loved me and chose to spend their time with me, most of their time with me... man, they wouldn't know what hit them (in a good way). They would find a single rose on their windshield or a hand written card on their doorstep. I would show them how much I loved them every single day, even in the smallest of ways. Even just a text or a phone call to let them know I was thinking about them. Of course I'm not crazy, this would only be once we've solidified that we are in an actual relationship. I'm not an overbearing stalker. I just love showing people I care and love them. But for now I'll just keep writing my 2 stories. Living vicariously through my own words. One, a story of a past I never had, and 2, a story on a future I'll never have. It's ok. We can't always get what we want. And as far as what we "need;" I think what we truly need is: water, air, clothing, food and shelter. Everything else is just extra. Everything else is just a wonderful bonus; a treat after you've eaten your veggies, a gift and it's not even your birthday or Christmas. I hope people recognize all these "gifts" in their lives, because some of us are living on bare necessities.

Control and dirty carpets

I hate that feeling of not being in control. I mean, don't we all? But it seems like it's the little things that go wrong that infuriate me to my breaking point. Traffic being the number 1 infuriating inducer, but that doesn't seem so little. But if you throw in being hot, and starving and literally not moving or taking a detour only to find it's a dead end and you have to turn around and end up right back where you were before, but at the back of the line now... well all that gets me past my breaking point. I do have rage moments, I'm not going to lie. 99% of them do happen in the car, but some happen at home too. All that happened today and more happened in the evening at home. This time I wasn't hungry but I was hot, despite the air conditioning being on, which I usually don't do in Springtime. I usually have the windows open and cool my house down, but I was losing it, and my blood pressure was probably really high which explains the being hot. Despite my entire house being covered in tile floor except my bedroom, my cat thinks she has to run into my bedroom to throw up on my carpet. I knew she was about to do it because I heard her low guttural meow and I hurriedly grabbed her to move her but all this did was make the mess cover more of my carpet. So I clean what I can and wash what I can and febreeze it all and close my bedroom door. Except I didn't close it, it was open a crack I guess and there she goes right back in 20 minutes or so later and throws up again. On my damn carpet. And on a new side. I was yelling and screaming all the while thinking would I react like this if it was my own child? Well maybe. Especially if they were old enough to run tot he toilet. Mollie is the smartest cat I know and understands so many words and follows directions, I felt like she knew she's not supposed to throw up there. But anyway, I guess at least it wasn't my brand new rug in the living room. It still has that fresh clean look to it... for now.
Sometimes I feel like the longer I go without having that need met of physical intimacy, being held and kissed and just hugged even (I rarely even get that. Like extremely rarely); the longer I go without it the shorter my temper gets. The higher my rage gets. The breaking point gets broken quicker and easier than before. I consider myself a chill person. At least I used to be. I think it's the lack of controlling the biggest and deepest desire of my heart, of most people's. That need to be loved fully and physically by another human being. Not having any control over that makes me feel like I should be able to control all the little things, but of course we can't. As a kid we think being an adult means we could control everything about our lives, what we did, what we ate, what we wore, where we went, how late we stayed up. All things kids wish they could control but can't. I actually don't care about any of those things. If I didn't get to control what I ate because my love was cooking me dinner, well then that would be great! Fine by me! If I stayed up way too late not because I got to control it, but because I literally had no idea what time it was because I was up talking with the greatest girl in the planet, well that would be fine by me, as well. With the invention of dating apps and websites galore, we have this sense of control, swiping left or right, I don't even know. We can pick and choose who we want to talk to and respond to a wink or whatever it might be. But it's also 2 sided, and have to be reciprocated. And it's also all BS. At least in my experience. Matches aren't matches, they are random. I'm sick of it all. It makes me want to throw up like Mollie did tonight. But at least I get to enjoy this cool night outside on my porch, Pandora playing inside, Mollie jumping in the air trying to catch bugs in the front yard in front of me. At least I have that. I can't control Mollie any more than I can control traffic. I don't even know if I can control it when I lose it. I guess if I'm being honest, I don't want to. Screaming and cussing, throwing a fit is not my response to having to clean a carpet, it's really me reacting to all this pent up... whatever, I don't even know the word. I know for a fact that if someone that loved me held me tightly, I would be ok. I would calm down. And no a straight jacket won't do the trick. If you were thinking that. It's gotta be a person. A trusted person. But no such person exists. The few that could sort of kinda meet this in some way shape or form, I only get to see every 4,5,6 months sometimes more. So that doesn't really do it for me. But what are you gonna do? Continue on the path of life until the path reaches a dead end or merges with another path. I'm hoping for the latter. But I'm not gonna hold my breath. I've already passed out from holding my breath for 8 years. It's probably never going to happen. I'll be okay. I'll make it. I won't be the person I could be, but I'll still be awesome.   

Life with a capital L.

My friend asked if I has ever failed at anything before. I thought about a second, but the only answer I had for her was, that I've failed at life. I joked about it. I laughed it off, but it kind of felt true to me. At least in certain moments of my life... or lots of moments of my life. An almost 34 year old woman should be married with a couple kids under her belt. She's probably already done having kids, maybe one more. I haven't even begun. I haven't even truly dated anyone in 8 years. I'm not even being the 33 year old single girl going on many dates finding the one. I'm nothing and nobody. What's even worse than that, is wanting someone who doesn't know you exist. Someone you haven't even met, haven't even talked to. Being in love like that, even though everyone would say it's just a fantasy, it doesn't feel like that to me. I feel connected to her in more ways than the obvious. I had gotten better by not seeking out this person and trying to forget about her but then she snuck back in and it's starting all over again. I'd almost rather meet her and find out she's a complete fake and complete jerk. Even though I seriously doubt that's true. But I'd rather get my bubble burst, my glass ceiling shattered, than continue to go on like this. Continuing to want her, continuing to feel all these strong, unexplainable, ridiculous feelings for her. As I write this Damien rice is singing the words "I can't take my eyes off of you... I can't take my mind off of you," which pretty much says it all. The song ends with "till I find somebody new.." Which is exactly what I need. It's the only thing that will get me off this drug she has me on. If I met a real girl, living in my reality, not in the alternate universe I've created for us with my words...but a girl that lives in my actual world and surroundings; well that would do it. That would break me free. My mind would shift. My focus would be on what's in front of me, in person, not what's on a screen. I may not live in the kind of fantasy world that involves dragons and gosh I don't even know, but you know what I mean: the online gaming world. I don't even live in a fantasy world created by the shows and movies I love. I mean I love talking about them, but it's not like I'd ever want to live in the world of The Walking Dead, I mean c'mon, seriously. But I do live in the fantasy world I've created with my own words. Sometimes when I think of something I wish could happen, but I know it wouldn't, not in a million years, I think to myself "I can just write about it. I can make it come true with my words." I'm in every story I write. In my fantasy "alternate universe story." In my "1995" flash back storytelling of first love (that never happened, it's just a 'what if' kind of situation). I'm even in the screenplay I was writing there for a long while. If things aren't happening for me, and they look like they won't ever happen for me, for whatever reason, I feel like if I write about it, it's almost like it happened. It's not that I believed that it really happen. I know reality from fantasy. But it's the second best thing to all those things I write about, actually happening. Especially when you feel like it's not in your power to make any of them happen. I know life is short. I know that you have to get out there and make things happen. But when it comes to finding true love, how do you make that happen. And how many times do you have to try? Is a hundred times not enough? I probably haven't tried 100 times, but you get what I mean. I don't know anyone that has tried for as long as I have, with no results at all. Not even just one relationship to last a couple of months. Nothing. Even not trying doesn't make anything happen. You're supposed to just live your life and see who you meet and not "try." Well that hasn't worked for me either. But I don't really believe that I am nothing and nobody. The work that I do with babies and moms, tells me that I'm not. The things I have read about myself or have been told in person, from the moms I work with, tell me that I am somebody and I have helped a lot of people in the 11 years I've done this work with babies with disabilities and developmental delays and their families. That's something. I may almost never get to see my friends, since they are married with kids now, but I get to still feel their love and their presence at times. For instance I had just written that first part of this blog, one day, a few weeks ago and I was really having a hard time and right at that moment out of the blue, an old friend texted me to say she was thinking about me in that very moment. Now this friend goes way back to when I was a baby Freshman in college, 18 years old. I was very much moldable and fragile and looking to figure out my purpose, who I am, all of those things people that age are trying to figure out. When she came into my life, I feel like I felt what it felt like to be truly cared about by another person, for the first time in my life. Like deeply cared about. I looked forward to talking to her and getting a hug from her and hearing "love you" from her, more than I looked forward to going home and seeing the family I grew up with. Probably because all those things weren't exactly common place in my home growing up. This friend does live in my surrounding area, in fact she's less than 10 minutes from where my parents live and where I grew up. But life is crazy, so getting to see her a few times a year is precious in and of itself. So when I got that text, I knew she still thought about me. She still cared as intensely as she did in college, it's just I can't see her multiple times a week like I did back then. On more than one occasion she has texted or called on a particularly bad day or bad moment. Sometimes you have those friends that even though you hardly get to see them or even talk to them really, you have a connection that will never truly break apart. Why else would she decide in that moment to contact me? I love stuff like that. It's rare, but if it wasn't rare, then it wouldn't be a big deal. If I was always having people constantly encouraging me or spouting praise at me or telling me how great I am all the time, then it wouldn't hold a lot of weight when it happened, now would it? It would be just "another day at the office."

Life is life. You take what you're given. Sometimes you can make more happen, but sometimes you can't. You can always choose to see the good side of things. Sometimes you have to look really hard. Even though it seems like life has happened in the exact same way for everyone else but you, it hasn't. And you never know what life is really like for them, because you're not in their head or their bed. So, I haven't failed at life. Life looks differently for everyone. I don't know why it is that I haven't met a girl that I connect with. I don't know why it hasn't happened yet. But I know I won't give up. Not entirely. It still may never happen, no matter how many more times I try, but I'm still alive, I'm still breathing. I'm still here.

Accepting and hopeful

I wasn't going to address this commercialized made-up day, and I'm still not... yet. But by accident today, on this day of all days, I read some short stories I had written about a guy I dated in Colorado and almost married. I swear I didn't open this document on my computer on purpose. I wanted to re-read some of my stuff and I saw something titled "short stories" and I assumed it was short stories I made up. I didn't realize till I opened it that it was 8 pages of short accounts of different times we shared together. Camping, the Tim McGraw/Faith Hill concert, our day at the park, ect. It was weird reading it. Like really weird. It was like I was reading someone else's story, except all the memories were mine. But the vernacular was so foreign to me. I talked about how I felt, how he made me feel:


"He pursued me. Even in the beginning, he treated me like a princess, the way a woman should be treated. At restaurants he always made sure that I had a menu, had a drink, his jacket if I was cold. He was very attentive and always included me in groups and talked to me. He had the qualities of a man I always wanted- loving, caring, independent, attentive, touchy-feely. He made me feel like I was the only girl he saw. If I was being left out of a conversation, he’d bring me in. He wasn’t afraid to hold my hand in public, or pull my chair closer to his when we were at a restaurant with friends."


Re-reading it I was like, oh yeah! I experienced that feeling! For so so so long I've had nothing and no one to make me feel this way, I kinda felt like I had never felt that way. Like maybe I was making it up, or maybe I saw it in a movie and that's why I wanted it. I wanted to feel the same way and be treated the same way as that character in the movie. But that's not real, that's just a movie. But it wasn't! That was my life for real! At least for a short time in my life. He was exactly that way...until he walked away and broke my heart. My life was like a fairytale for a short period of time. He actually said the words "damn girl, your eyes are beautiful," and it wasn't a pick up line, he already had me, but even if it was, no one else has ever used that line on me. We were actually one of those sickening couples you see; that put their hands in each other's back pockets and are attached at the hip, just one person, you can't tell whose arm is whose.

This actually fucking happened! I didn't make this up. This wasn't in some movie I saw. This was a night, long ago:

"The night of the concert, we both dressed the part. Me in my black skirt and cowboy girl top, and Steve in his black jeans, boots and black leather jacket. We were the hot couple there that night. I was at the most romantic concert ever, with the man that I loved. I couldn’t think of anything better. We were on the very top row at the Pepsi Center in Denver, but we didn’t care. We were at the Tim McGraw and Faith Hill Soul 2 Soul II concert. Standing there with his arms around me swaying to the music, I thought I was in a dream. I was so sure that at any moment I would wake up. As Tim sang, “Just to see you smile,” Steve sang right along, singing the words in my ear as I was standing in front of him, his arms wrapped around me. Even though that song’s kind of sad, because he lets her go, just to see her smile, Steve said that that song was for me. When I later told him to listen to the words of the song, he didn’t realize what the whole song was about. He just liked the chorus and knew that –“just to see me smile, he’d do anything.'"
It's weird reading about your own life in that way. It feels like a million years ago, but it also feels unbelievable. Like maybe I made it all up. Like it was all a dream. In the grand timeline of life it was like a millisecond long. The whole relationship from start to finish, meeting to break up was all of 5 months. But I was definitely going to marry him. And since he brought up marrying me first, I believed him. It was his idea, to begin with. But all that doesn't matter now. I have zero feelings for him now. I haven't for a million years. It's just weird reading about it again, after all this time. I don't think I've read it once since I wrote it. We dated in 2006 and according to my computer I wrote about it in 2009. Although that must've been when I typed it in, I'm pretty sure I wrote it earlier, but anyways, I definitely haven't read it till now. What a trip. I'm grateful to have experienced all that though. It's at least something. I might not connect with anyone in that way now or in the past 8 years, but at least I did at one point. If it happened once, it can happen again. Or twice, actually, counting my first relationship. If you've loved and been loved, it can happen again. Some lucky ones (I have more than just one or 2 friends that this applies to), marry their first love and are still with that person. It amazes me. They are the luckiest people on the planet...or they're stuck. A person changes SO much in their 20s and into their early 30s, so being with that same person s...well I hope they've changed together at the same pace and are still people that want the other. I guess so, since they're still together, but what do I know. Obviously I'm glad now that I didn't marry my first love, but I'm not glad that I have yet to have my first love, in the gender that makes me weak at the knees and gives me this feeling in my stomach that can only be described as butterflies doing flip flops on a rollercoaster. It's intense, if you didn't get that picture. And not something I've felt before in the past with the guys I dated. Both guys I dated had the qualities I must have in a person: loving, caring, independent, funny, attentive, touchy-feely. If you don't like being touched, then stay away. I'm not inappropriate in public or anything. I'm a normal human being, but that would be at the top of  my list.
So I went to this party a few weeks ago. It's also weird saying that, because I don't typically go to parties. I went because it was at a current friend's house, so at least I'd know her, AND she was having her friend who plays the guitar come and jam with us, which is the best and only way I would truly enjoy any kind of party or gathering of strangers-if there's live acoustic guitar music. So I was already in heaven. And since he was pretty much an amazing rockstar, I was already having the best night I've had in an extremely long time. Like an embarrassing amount of time. What was also cool about this night is that I got a lot of physical touch. And hear me when I say none of it was meant or seen to me as anything more than it was; just casual, friendly touch. But it was nice to be around people who are friendly in this way. It was refreshing and invigorating. My already friend is a very social, outgoing extrovert of a person. She likes to call people "babe" and gives hugs or just a simple touch, or arm around you while she talks to someone. It's all innocent and just who she is, which I think is awesome. So I got to experience a lot of that, that night. And then there was this new girl who was apparently an ex-introvert. She told me all about how she just decided one day that she wasn't going to be one anymore and be out-going, an extrovert convert. I'm not sure that's how it works, but I'm happy for her. She is a very very outgoing, outspoken, friendly girl. She has no problems talking to anybody about anything. She was also a personal space heater. She said she's always been hot natured and she took my hands in hers to prove it and was like dang your hands are freezing. Which they were. They aren't always, but they were that night. So she felt it her duty to warm them up, and I think they cooled her down too. She proceeded to hold my hands as if we were praying together or having an intense conversation about our relationship. I didn't take it to mean any more than it was, one person warming up another person's hands, but it was definitely a different and new experience for me. I had never had that experience with a stranger before in my entire 33 years, and it was really cool, I have to say. It wasn't as awkward as you'd think it would be. I actually didn't pull away, which was unlike me, with someone I don't know. It went on for a good while. She talked to others while holding my hands and did it again another time that night. My point being, human contact, real human physical contact is pretty much the best thing on earth. I mean you need air, clothes, food, water and shelter to survive, or you'll literally die front the elements. But I think you also need human touch. And I am definitely lacking in that area. I'm majorly lacking. I get it in some form with the little ones I work with. Most don't give real hugs at this age, but I have this one little boy who is about to be 3 and leave the program, who started running up to me and give me a big hug every single time I come. This started a few months ago. And I have another little boy who finds comfort in rubbing my ear lobe while we look at books, and another who likes to tickle my arm while I type my note. It's all simple touch, but it all means the absolute world to me. It's not enough, but it's something. Touch and being touched, can't be replaced by anything. No amount of texting can come anywhere close to matching what physical contact provides. I really hope I meet a girl one day who is exactly like me in this area. I hope she needs physical touch as much if not more than me. I would snatch her up and never let go. I am made for someone like that, and she is made for me. I hope she does exist. And I hope that I get to be in her life someday really soon. Or I might die from lack of touch...okay I guess technically I won't.

I don't care that I don't have anyone today. It's not a special day. I used to think it was, but it's not. People who are married or in a relationship of a special kind shouldn't have to have a day set aside on a calendar to remind them to love their significant other. And I don't mean that in some bitter, single girl way. It's just a fact. There really shouldn't be a "Valentine's Day." Doesn't each couple already have one? It's called their Anniversary. I don't think I would even do anything out of the ordinary today, if I had somebody. We'd stay in and order pizza to avoid the crazy crowded restaurants. We'd continue watching whatever series we were binge watching at the moment on Netflix, instead of attending some poorly written and acted and over-sexed movie in a theater, where everyone can feel awkward about what they are watching next to the complete stranger 2 inches from them. Flowers. I would want flowers. But I want flowers all the time, not just because it's valentines day. Not expensive flowers. $9.99 or less at the Tom Thumb around the corner, come on, be realistic and don't be picky and snobby. I show love in a lot of ways- words, gifts, time and touch. And I receive it back the same. But there are just some things only that person you are in an intimate physical relationship can provide. I don't have that person, nor do I have friends that want to snuggle platonically in bed like Hannah and Marnie do in the pilot of GIRLS. But maybe that doesn't really exist in real life. Or in the real life of most girls and their best friends. It is what it is. Life's what you make of what's been giving to you, not always searching for more or better. It's not about complaining. It's about making the best of it. So I'm not gonna complain or be sad. I'm just accepting and hopeful. This is me. Accepting of the now but hopeful for what could come in the future. After all, the future is only one second from now. Oh look, I'm already there.