Monday, July 26, 2010

trying to be fearless

Some of my fears are irrational. I've got a terrible fear of dinosaurs-- specifically re-creations that look realistic, movies that suggest they could come back, not-so realistic representations that show up when I least expect them. I used to be so afraid of the shower drain that I made my little sister stay in the bathroom with me whenever I took a shower. I'm afraid of large bodies of water through which I cannot see. If the bottom is visible, I'm good anywhere. One piece of seaweed grabs my unsuspecting leg, though, and I'm out. I've had these fears for as long as I can remember. I'm making some progress on conquering them, but there will always be something terrifying to me about dinosaurs, shower drains, and murky water.

When I was a teenager, I thought I was scared of rejection. I thought the feeling keeping me in unhappy relationships and stopping me from trying harder and putting myself out there was a fear of being rejected. I got rejected. Multiple times. Now, years later, I've been rejected more times than I can count. It's not a fear of rejection, and it never was. It's just a normal dislike for rejection. The fear is behind it. The fear is of being rejected to the point where I become, ultimately, in all aspects of my life, alone.

The next step in my life requires me to face loneliness. Not just being alone, being away from family and friends, being far from everything I know and have come to count on, but being completely and totally lonely. I am walking into this knowing full well that I will cry myself to sleep for a while, and that it will be a long long while before someone comes around to clean up the mess. I'm not expecting anyone to clean it up, honestly. I am expecting tear-soaked pillows for the foreseeable future.

Every piece of the potential next step sounds like it could be a wonderful adventure. I'll learn more about me, about what I want to do with my life, about what I am capable of, and of course, what I'm not capable of. But I'm doing it alone. I'm trying to frame loneliness as part of the adventure... but this is a tough one, even for me. I can't let my fear of complete loneliness keep me from moving forward, though. I have to keep going. I'm scared of the drain, but I still spend an hour in the shower. I'm scared of the water, but my favorite place in the world is still on a boat in the middle of the lake. I'm scared to do this alone, but maybe something amazing will come of it.
I think I'm going to face this dinosaur.
L

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

when you know

One morning, it happens.

You can't plan for it. You aren't expecting it. Maybe you've tried for weeks, for months, but you never thought it would happen so suddenly.
But then it does.

I'm caught off guard by something that should be spectacular. Cue the fireworks. I've hit the wall- the ultimate wall- the wall standing between me and the edge of my ability to reason a failing relationship. I don't need him anymore.
Finally, I can carry myself.

C,
This is bittersweet. I love you, but I don't need you like I used to need you. I am happy to wake up alone. I am content to come home and tuck myself in. I am excited about life outside of when I'll see you next. I'm not sure if you gave me this, but you didn't deprive me of it, so I owe you a couple thank you's.

First, for showing me love again. It has been a long road for us, in the grand scheme of things. You've been leading me on for at least a year. I've been enjoying it for just as long. Ultimately my appreciation for tears, feelings, smiles, and happiness has been dependent upon your provisions. Thank you for providing. Even for the tears.

Second, for breaking my heart. I may be a masochist. I thrive on heartbreak. I can't write if I'm happy. I don't get into relationships that will be stable or amicable or perfect. I am drawn to frustrating, aggravating, disturbing situations. Ours was one. I loved every excruciating minute of it. But it's run its course.
I feel stronger than I have been. I feel prouder than I have been. We haven't spoken in a week, and in that week I've written more, thought more, and grown more than I have in months. I've considered moving across the country. I've almost- check back in a week- committed to moving across the country. I've made progress on my thesis. I've cleaned my apartment and had a party for my friends. I've met new people. I've seen new things. I've flown. I've sung. I've lived.
A month ago I'd have spent that time waiting for you.

Until tonight I didn't realize how much time it'd been. It's been a while. I won't lie and say I don't miss you; I do. Like crazy. But I'm not incapable of surviving anymore.
That is a huge step forward.

I hope you know that I tried.


I never wanted to give you away 
I still love you 
but I don't need you 


I just couldn't say it better myself.
L

*Lyrics from O-Town's I Still Love You

Thursday, July 8, 2010

leftover fireworks

Kids down the street are still setting off loud, obnoxious, fire-spewing noise-makers. I assume they are kids, which is in their best interest. I can't hit kids. It has been 3 days since the 4th of July. Two questions: 1) Why aren't they done with their fireworks yet? It's been 3 days! 2) Why do I assume they have to use up all their fun in one day? These kids might just be on to something.
I'm not though, so it pisses me off. I'm a user. I use everything up until I'm done with it. Immediately. Unless it- whatever it may be- decides to walk away before I'm finished, it's getting used up. This generally applies to ice cream, beer, boys, and money. Most of these don't go before I'm done. The ones that do, well, who am I kidding? If you're reading this, you know what happens to those that leave before I finish with them. They stick around. I don't let them go. They haunt my dreams and show up during the day. They appear at my neighborhood bar and know people in my classes. They walk by at the mall and their names show up in interviews.
If I don't use up all the spark I can get to, it keeps sparking. I'm not up for fire burns. I'm not in the mood to deal with injuries again. I would rather use up all the damn fireworks when they're called for, so I can move on. Give myself another year before I have to step into that death trap again.
But I've still spent a year burning myself on sparklers... I have very little room to complain.
I just keep lighting them.
L