if, then

I had a conversation with someone at work the other day about girls who feel the need to check their man's text messages. My overall feeling is that if you need to check their texts, there is no trust, and the relationship is over. Done and done.

In high school, I checked texts. I moderated phone calls. I was that girl. 

And that relationship ended in a long, drawn out, overly public, powerfully painful way. My ignorance to the importance of trust led me into years of crying myself to sleep-- which led to some really excellent writing, but thats another discussion. 

With J, I did not check texts. I was suspicious once, and that passed. Trust prevailed.

And that relationship ended in one quick blow followed by 2 uncomfortable weeks of packing and uncertainty. We were a rock in the trust category, but it still ended up down the drain. (Interesting that our break up took place in a bathroom? I don't think I've ever fully thought about how funny that location choice really is.) 

Checking a text on C's phone is what ended our official relationship. It would have ended no matter what I found; the fact that I worried enough to check was reason enough to end it. But I found something I didn't want to. 

And that relationship officially ended in a splash of tears. Yes, we dragged out the together-not together saga for a year after, but the titles on the relationship dropped that night. If I don't trust you, there can't be any title that says I do.

So far we've learned that whether or not I check texts, the relationship ends. As a general rule, the relationship lasts longer when I do not check texts. Trust is a solid foundation. 

And now I'm in the beginning of a situation: Tonight, just for a minute, I wanted to check. I didn't, and I'm not going to; nothing is that important. But I worry that there is something there. I worry because I know for a fact that I sent him texts at one point that were a worry for someone else. And if my texts were reciprocated then, what's stopping him from answering someone else's similarly relationship-threatening texts now? 

If once, then always. 

Once, always. 

Done and done. 

L

sleepless

I think I'll know when I find 'the one'- or at least the next real thing- when I stop thinking of C as I'm trying to sleep.
(Until then, thank you for giving me such difficult sleep cycles. It certainly is hard to get to sleep while I'm thinking about missing you, but the dreams are awfully wonderful.)
Sweet dreams.
L

freaks come out at night

Halloween on a Sunday means 3 days of Halloween. Friday: work Halloween, club/dancing Halloween. Saturday: day 1 Halloween hangover, party Halloween, pub crawl Halloween. Sunday: day 2 Halloween hangover, football Halloween, children's Halloween.

I dislike so much about this holiday. I strongly dislike the word Halloween (possibly because I've typed it so many times in the past minute?). But mostly I've just always hated being scared. This whole holiday is about embracing fear-- walk into a maze made of thick wheat where no one can hear me scream or find me to help? sure! go into a dark house where nightmares jump out at me in an effort to make me cry? of course!!-- and I'm just not the type to go along with that. But, I am not the one to fight a good time. I celebrated the holiday this year, like most, with the best of them.

I faced quite a few fears Saturday. 3 were noteworthy:

1. My costume. I dressed as my worst fear. I was a very subtle, non-threatening version of said fear, but I did it. I made myself into a dinosaur. And wouldn't you know it, as I'm walking down the steps from my front porch, my first official act after putting on my dino-sweatshirt and dino-shoes was my misguided step onto a snail. Killed the poor thing. Really just reaffirmed my fear- dinosaurs will kill anything smaller than them. Fear faced, and still firmly in place.

2. Talked to C. I haven't talked to him in about 2 months. I let him fall off my radar, and I fell off his. For the better, as you'll all agree, since that relationship was literally drug-like. Early in the night, a bar was showing a movie that was one of C's favorites. I texted him to say hi, and that his movie was on. We chatted on and off the rest of the night. I am proud to say that I did NOT get into a cab to go see him. I did NOT invite him over. I did NOT ask him what he was doing later, tomorrow, this week, ever. And I don't feel like I need to. I had a friendly, platonic, non-confrontational interaction with one of the loves of my life. Fear faced, and conquered.

3. Commitment issues, like whoa. I scare easy, in the corn-maze way and the relationship way. This weekend brought it out in me. I was looking for sneak exits in every establishment. Never took a sneaky way out, stayed with who I was there with, but WOW did I feel my mind scoping for escape routes. (Maybe that is what urged me to text C in the first place?). BUT I didn't run. Still here. Shaking in my boots and definitely more a flight risk now than ever before, but still here. Fear faced, and acknowledged.

To summarize: I'm afraid of dinosaurs stepping on me. I can still love C, but not be a raving lunatic clamoring for his attention. The thought of being tied to anyone makes me literally want to run away.

Facing fears doesn't always mean conquering them. Unfortunate, cos I'm just going to have to keep facing them until they go away.
Maybe just once a year, though.
L

just one piece

Thought it was over, didn't you. Sorry for the tease.

You've already broken my heart 

Made huge steps this month without you. Pictured life without you and survived completely. Was pretty sure you were gone for good. I mentally started packing our memory box away for closet storage. All I needed was closure. Give me back my keys and make that graceful exit I know you can make.


I'd like to keep at least one piece 


Seems like you can't go quietly. Content to let me fidget and forget and force moving on, but then you sneak back under my skin. It wasn't difficult. You didn't need to be a magician. I could've used some powers to shield myself, but we both know I can't fight the cravings once you wake them up. And somewhere between sunset on Friday and 4 am Sunday- Hello Sunshine.


You can take all that you want 


Wasting no time. You work quickly when there's something on the line, something at stake. Wonder what it is this time? We're starting again like the first time- like the very beginning. Flirting in text messages from completely separate geographic locations. Couldn't see you now if I tried. Makes the words stronger. Makes me more vulnerable. Not complaining.


But you're gonna have to share it with me. 


Chances aren't going to run out for you. I've got an unlimited supply stored up. As long as I wake up smiling after just thinking about you in dreams, you can keep coming around. Please do. But watch your step. I wiped the slate clean this month, so try not to mess it up too quickly. Don't abuse your power.


Share it with me, just one piece. 
L

*Lyrics from Family Force 5's Share It With Me 

who/whom

You text me and I light up. 

You text me something I don't like and my day becomes wreckage. 

Why am I the object in these sentences? 

I let you control too much. 

L 

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

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

if only

All it takes is 5 minutes.

So many days I have an aching feeling all over my body. It manifests mostly in my shoulders, and some days burns into my lower back. It stings when I first wake up and turns into a dull ache that lasts most of the day. The days I wake up without the pain are the days I wake up next to C.

Turns out I don't even need to be next to him. He's 3 hours away tonight, but a quick text message has already lifted so much of the pressure I'd anticipated waking up to tomorrow.

Just 5 minutes, and an unlimited texting plan, and everyone wakes up happy.

If only it were always so simple.
L

ringing

Picture your life without cell phones. (Take 30 seconds to really let it sink in.) I'm guessing you are home, reading at a leisurely pace, so you may not be as worried as you could be, but keep picturing. Now, where is your family? Where are your friends? You significant other? What are your plans for the night? What are your plans for tomorrow? Do you know what you're doing this weekend? Are you worried yet? Is it wrong that I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation?

C's cell phone fell into a sink last week while I was on my mini-vacation. Accidents happen, but I am such a worrier that there is no space for accidents on my watch. C was in charge of babysitting Killer, my cat/child. Without knowing that the phone had become inoperable, I was frantic worrying about whether Killer was being fed, getting water, getting attention, still alive. I came back home a day early. Didn't hear from C for a couple days, so I started to worry if he was fed, getting water, getting attention, still alive. He showed up in the middle of the night a couple days later, all is well. But without phone access he didn't have my number, and I had no access to him aside from calling him at work and exposing myself for the unreasonable worrier I am. He wasn't worried at all. He visited Killer every day until he noticed my stuff had reappeared. He STILL has not replaced his phone, and he is completely relaxed about it. I misplaced my phone for 20 minutes and my life flashed before my eyes.

The problem with this situation isn't that I am too attached to my technology. It isn't not having access to my baseball scores or expensive device that bothers me. What is burning inside my head when I'm without my phone is that I don't know ANYTHING. Suddenly I cannot remember where I'm supposed to be. I don't have any way to find anyone who does know where I'm supposed to be. I don't know who would know. I cannot text anyone. I cannot check facebook for clues. I get lost in my own mind. C not having a phone is killing me, and I rarely talk to him more than twice a week. Still, I call his phone once every few hours to see if it's still going to voicemail. I think just knowing he has access to a phone again will calm me a little.

I know I'm not the only one. I depend on this phone for so much more than just phone calls. Look at just how many facebook and twitter updates are made by mobile devices. Even blog entries are written and posted from phones. This hyper-need to stay connected-- an unreasonable amount of connected-- has to be doing something to us for the long term. Knowing where everyone is, what they're doing, how they feel, all the time... there has to be some terrible after-effect.
Or is this it? (As I call C. I'm obviously not too worried that this is the horrible ending to the obsession.)

It's ringing. I can breathe again.
L

because/not because

Made excuses. Some for him, some for me. Decided I am love sick, willing to put myself through bad to get good. Decided his phone dies frequently. Interesting, really, as he doesn't so much answer texts. Bad battery, that phone. I could stop liking him if I wanted to. He still loves me under that tough exterior. His friends don't like me because I intimidate them, not because they really don't like me. I'm still awake because I was cleaning, not because I am waiting for a call. I have to check my phone constantly because the volume is low. If he called after I went to bed, I'd still go get him. But because I don't want him to drive if he's tired or tipsy, not because I am that dependent. I'm waiting for him because he's going to feed my cat while I'm out of town, not because I want him. I'm still up thinking about him because... because... because no one else is worth thinking about at the moment. If someone worth thinking about came along, I'd think of them instead. Nothing wrong with that. This is all completely healthy. This relationship works in its own way. Its got special circumstances; we have very specific compatibility requirements. This works as well as it can with these restrictions. I'm totally happy with this limited interaction. I'm waiting up because I worry about his safety, not because if I fall asleep I might miss a call. 

Next time I'm making excuses that help. 

L

not another girl meets boy

Stuck somewhere between La Roux's "I'm Not Your Toy" and B.O.B.'s "Airplanes". I'm either happy or not. Somewhere between a minor chord and a major in my head. I'm as confused as Lady Gaga's parents must be when they look at baby pictures. Even my body is in limbo-- the front half of me is burnt to a deep lobster red, and the back half is plain and pale. I'm awake and alert but all I want to do is sleep it off. I really do not like this in between.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?
Cos I could really use a wish right now. 

My wish would be for this burn to go away. I'm pretty completely sure that if this burn disappeared, all the other things plaguing my mind would fade pretty quickly. I spent the weekend at a soccer tournament, watching C play, like I did all last summer. Sitting in the grass and watching him coach from the back of the field, run on his extremely f-ed up leg, cooly defend his keeper... nothing could make me happier for 20 minutes at a time. But once the game ends, life gets back to normal. He's just as cool off the field. He nods at me. Smiles. And walks away. He texts one word answers and I text sentences back. I crave his attention and he basks in mine. 

I've been doing this- we've been doing this- for a year. Officially for a year next Sunday. 

It's all false love and affection. 

You don't want me, you just like the attention.

Stupid sparks. Gets in the way of everything. My brain cant differentiate between anger and love, so I am trapped in this spark-heavy trap. And everyone I meet, everyone I date, everyone I spend an hour getting to know, every one of them falls short. Not because they aren't great people. They are! They're fantastic! They are all perfect catches! But if my heart doesn't skip a beat, I don't have the urge to try anymore. Someone else gets my attention for a week, but it always goes back to C. 

I'm sure thats how he likes it. I probably like it that way, too. Damn my spark-cravings. 

Prom girl wipes her tears with silver lines, and she can't get enough. 

I bring it all on myself. I know, but I like it. And if my sunburn went away, I could get back to enjoying the mess I've buried myself in. 

I just love love. I love love too much. I love it so much that every emotion wants to be love. 

But at least thats one thing I've got straight. 

L 

**Lyrics from B.O.B.'s Airplanes, La Roux's I'm Not Your Toy, and Lady Gaga's I Like It Rough.

ordinary

Not settling for less than "extraordinary" is a lot more work than I remember it being. 

At 19, everything was extraordinary. Every guy who looked my way was a step in the right direction. Every boy I fell for was spectacularly better than the last. I had a way of looking at each new love as though it were the most amazing thing that could ever happen to a girl like me. 

I lost it. 

Nothing is extraordinary anymore. Ordinary is all I can muster up. The only extraordinary moments are a select few with C- not all the time, anymore. But the point of this is not to dissect some moments with C. I'm introducing the next character in this soap opera drama: V.

V likes me. I like V more than I've liked anyone recently. We've been on 3 dates. I haven't once had to ignore a call or text from him. I don't feel like running away. I don't feel like running in, either. We are nothing extraordinary. We get along well in public and one-on-one. He is a good guy, I don't feel like I'm in danger of heartbreak. I'm not terribly worried that I'll hurt him, either. But thats not to say that I'm in this with all of me. I just think he seems rational enough to bounce back when I start ignoring his calls. 

Once again, I'm missing the spark. 

Is it settling if I wait this one out to see where it goes, even though the spark is obviously absent? Or can we just call that good sense? I think I've answered it for myself. 

It's not extraordinary. It might be a bit better than ordinary, but I've had extraordinary, and this doesn't begin to compare. I'll give it a few more shots... but then back to the war path. 

Hopefully he understands.

L

my way

(Just prose, been sitting in draft form, unfinished, for too long. Needed to be freed!)

You set me free
By doing what you've always done.
What kept me here so long
Is what's giving me the power to run.
And I will.
I will run.
Because I'm not so sure how long my disenchantment will last.

You're ignorant. Mean.
You're indifferent and heartless.
You didn't try.
You let me try.
You let me fight.
You let me cry.
You let me suffer.
You let me destroy myself,
And never tried to stop me.
Where's the honor in that?
Miserable.
You are miserable.
A miserable excuse for a man.
A pathetic picture of a boy.

Someday you'll know.
And I hope it kills you to see all I saw.
I hope it gives you nightmares.
I hope it gives you chills throughout random days.
I hope you suffer through heartache with no hope of escape,
And I hope you make it to the other side.
I hope you see how strong you have to be.
You deserve to know first hand
What you had
What you did
What I loved through.

But I set me free.
I had enough. I saw the end.
You did what you did
Over and Over.
You never changed.
You never felt.
You never tried.
And I felt enough for both of us.
I loved enough for both of us.
I tried.
But not enough for both of us.
Needed you,
But that's not your style.

So while I'm feeling stronger,
While I know I can make the trip,
I'm going.
I'm letting myself feel other things-
New things and fantastic things-
Things that will give me new scars you could never think to inflict.
I've been set free by exactly what had me so trapped.
I just had to learn to sail through.
Navigate the fantastic whirlwinds that got me caught on you.
Fun at first, but unfortunate when I've stayed this long.
I can get out now.

And I'm on my way.
L

reality bites

I'm not going to say it was the worst 10 minutes of my life, but it was in the top 25. Maybe top 20. I'd have to list them all to really get an accurate figure, and I'd rather not, since I've suppressed most of those memories already. I hope to suppress this one, too. Maybe I just need to get it out there first. I think I need to back up a little.

I'm pretty easy to get along with. Not too many people dislike me, and the ones who do... well.. I don't know them very well, so I can't be entirely sure why they do. Most of those people hang out in the same place, all together, in a place I used to spend most of my nights. I don't frequent this establishment anymore, for a few reasons we really don't need to discuss. Point is that I rarely go. When I do, I'm usually the only person there.
I went the other night. I thought, due to the empty parking lot and the lack of lights glowing through the windows, that I was late enough to be there alone. I was mistaken. I was completely mistaken. And I faced 4 people who don't think highly of me, and 1 person who apparently thinks less of me than of a termite. I'd have been fine, but that 1 person decided to make a few comments, not to me but to the room in general, which were entirely shots at me. At me. I was unprepared for the attack, and I have nothing against the speaker- well, I had nothing against the speaker- which left me with no reaction prepared but to smile politely, laugh it off awkwardly, and excuse myself from the situation before anyone could catch me crying.
But wait, maybe the comments weren't meant for me? Maybe they were just random comments? Maybe just song lyrics stuck in someone's head or inside jokes from earlier in the night? Ehhhhh... no. The first thing he said when he got outside to me was "don't listen to them. just forget it."
Complete humiliation.

But not because I was ridiculed without my knowledge in front of people. Not because I was embarrassed by his friends in front of him. Not even because he let them.
I was humiliated because everything that was said was true.
And I knew it.
And suddenly, I realized, everyone else knew it, too.

I like to think my own stupidity is my own problem- if I can deal with it, then that's really all that matters. But 10 minutes on a Thursday night rearranged that whole thought process. I'm not proud of the reality. I romanticize it in my head to make it easier to handle. He's obviously framing it his own way as well. But either way, that's what I'm living. And hearing it for the first time in that situation, when I'm obviously uncomfortable and confused and caught off guard in the first place, just makes reality that much more of a slap across the face. It is still my reality, but now it is someone else's inside joke.

Okay, I got it out there. I'm ready to suppress it now.
Come on selective memory.
L

loves me like a rock

My head is a disaster. I have been repeatedly running myself into a rock, hoping that at one point the rock will reach out and hold me and tell me to stop doing it. Who am I kidding? It's a rock. I will keep running myself into it until I've learned my lesson. I've been running into it for 8 years. Book smart is not the same thing as common sense. Love sick is nothing if not ignorant. I am a fairy tale dreamer, and in my dream the rock eventually reaches out to love me.
Waking up.

Eventually this will all wear me down. I'm scared that one day I will lose my optimism. I don't want to become the woman who sees things realistically all the time. Much as it hurts, I would rather keep running into that damn rock, keep feeling the ups and downs, keep crying and screaming and smiling and hoping... I want to believe- always- that there is something worth believing in.

One day that rock will hold me. Love me. Please don't let me forget that.
The pain is starting to get dull. I'm starting to forget. I'm starting to give up.
But if you aren't going to run at that rock with full force, then why bother running at all?
So, rock, it is best for you to give in. I will keep running, and keep slamming into you, until I've worn out a cozy little hole for myself or broken you down in the process.
Get ready to love me.
L

tell me why

I would rather have you once a week, pretend you're mine, ignore the phone, and live this lie. I have been living it successfully for months. I have my own life 6 days a week. You have yours. They don't intersect. We've choreographed this dance perfectly. I warn you before I cross into your path. We let each other know when something new comes up. We've been dancing around each other 6 days a week for 8 months. We were living this lie like clockwork.
Until you broke it.
You took out your L-word, and you threw it into the mix. You opened a Pandora's Box of unspoken feelings. One quick syllable, one whispered sentiment, one caught breath, and my strength is gone. Like an eyelash blown into the wind- gone. It will be another 8 months before I catch myself again. It's out there now. You can take it back, you can make excuses, you could lie and cover it up... but I know you won't. You don't really need to. I'm the one at a loss.
I've been hiding my L-word for months. I've known, and I've hidden it. Why let you know that I'm thinking of you the other 6 days of the week? Thats none of your concern. I bolstered my own strength, saved my dignity, enhanced my solidarity in this relationship, all through hiding the feeling. Locking it away. Saving it. I know how I feel, I don't need to say it outloud. If I don't say it I can pretend it is my little secret.
But you said it. And an hour later I was still smiling from hearing it. I said it back. And I smiled all night long- while I was falling asleep, when I woke up from you snoring, while I was dreaming, when my alarm went off, when I turned over and saw you sleep-smiling, too. I smiled all night.
Until I woke up, realized this wasn't all a dream, and remembered that I probably won't see you for another 6 days.
Just like that, my strength is gone. You've broken through it. You had no reason to tell me you love me. You had no reason to push that envelope any further than we already had. We have an unreliable, confusing, random, completely satisfying relationship. You threw a twist into it and I don't have the bearings to straiten it back out. You have no right to tell me you love me. Especially when you know damn well how much I love you. So, why tell me?
I just want to know why.
L

thinking. feeling.

"Don't ever give up on something or someone that you can't go a full day without thinking about." 

-Dave Mustaine 


There are things I can go days without thinking about- - important things. I can go days without worrying about money; a fact made obvious by my inability to make rent this month. I don't think about food on a daily basis; I eat when I'm hungry and I don't necessarily think about how much is left or if I'll have something to eat tomorrow. I don't think about all my friends every 24 hours. I don't think about sunshine once a day. 
I do think about him. 
I do wonder if he's doing alright. 
Its a difficult spot I've put myself in. I'm not competing with other women, I know how to win that competition. No... Instead I'm competing with myself. I'm competing with the sense of ambition I've given him. I'm competing with his sense of individuality- something I am too strong to let go of personally. I'm competing with his need for personal time, personal space, friends, freedom. I want more than he can give, more than he should give. He has so much more to live, to learn. I want to be his all. He's too young for me to ask for things like that. 
So I don't ask. 
So he doesn't know. 
I've seen what a guy can give to a girl. I have had it. I have felt it. I have lived it. I've been catered to, lived for, loved. And I still sleep on the left side of the bed every night. I don't want it all. I don't want my every whim to be supported. I don't mind the support- it was a pleasant surprise when he offered me the money to make my rent this month- but I cannot accept it. I am independent, too. (Although I may be failing at my 'independence'....) I am fine without him. I've become resigned to that. It's become a matter of preference. I won't ask for all of him. I can handle a part-time romance. I prefer it to sharing the bed with myself every night. 
I'd rather spend a night next to him. 
I'd rather spend a night just thinking about him. 
I'll admit, I'm not sure at this point if he's a good thing. I love him, I despise him, I miss him, I cry over him, I cry for him, I hate him, I dream of him, I smile because of him, I light up at his name. I'm not sure what else there is to life. 


It's taken me this long, but I've got a theory. Maybe my life is lived for the emotions. Maybe it isn't all about finding the one who makes me happy all the time, or the one who makes me think life is worth living. Maybe it's about finding the one who lets me feel. I went 4 years without writing because J and I were so solid that I didn't have any feelings to let out. I may not have been smiling and giggling and happy this past year, but I was feeling. I'd trade 4 years of numbness for a lifetime of feeling. 
I'm happy he helped me feel again. 
Whatever the feelings may be. 
L 

what dreams are made of

There's the question of how much I need him. The chemicals in my brain think he is undoubtably necessary to my existence. The chemicals in my heart agree. The outside world thinks otherwise. I'd exist without him. Probably. I could be happy without him, I'm sure of that. But I'd be unhappy for a time before the happiness reappeared. I'd listen to my friends say how much I never needed him anyway. I'd meet tons of unnecessary people and be involved in many miserable, pointless relationships. Do I need those? No. I probably need him more than I need 50 more awkward, go-nowhere dates. I probably need him more than I need 2 more years of clubbing too much and crying myself to sleep out of loneliness. I want him more than I want any of that. I want him more than I've wanted anything I can remember.

He came over. He wasn't supposed to. He didn't need to. I was busy, but he said he was proving to me that he isn't as much of an ass as I think he is. I don't think he's an ass. He cancelled a date last week. I was really upset about that. I may have called him an asshole, but he made it a point to come over JUST to sleep next to me, JUST to prove to me that he is not the ass he seems to be, JUST to show me that he needs to be with me as much as I need to be with him. Every second with him feels like it was meant to happen. Like every minute, even the most bizarre minutes, were destined. Our every interaction feels... perfect. I can't think he's an ass for too long. I can't think he's an ass for a second after he smiles. 
He's leaving soon. If all goes as planned, he'll be gone by June this year. 4 months. He's asked me to go with him, but my answer remains the same; if we can't make it work here, how will being 6 hours away help? Honestly, being 6 hours away would help. But I can't compromise yet. I can't let him take me away from what has become my home just to follow love. 


Love has to be worth fighting for. If it isn't worth that, then it isn't worth the chemicals firing in your brain to make it happen. If it isn't worth the pain, it isn't worth the pleasure. Pandora's box was opened for a reason. I'm not suggesting that love should hurt, that you should feel pain in all relationships, that being in love should be a heartbreaking experience... but love should be worth feeling that for. I'm willing to go through some upset to feel the all-encompassing happiness that comes with the upside.

There's no feeling in the world like knowing he's holding me until I fall asleep. I know he's waiting for me to sleep, and I know he'll immediately turn over once I've drifted off... but thats irrelevant. He's waiting. He kisses me on the forehead and rubs my back until I fall asleep. 
An hour later, when I wake up, he's fallen asleep facing me. 
I have to correct myself. That may be the best feeling in the world. That kind of comfort, intimacy, happiness, you can't find that on the street corner. Can't find it in the club or on just any date or in just any set up. Thats the kind of intimacy that exists to make sure fairy tales keep getting written. That kind of happiness is what keeps Disney in business. That kind of comfort is what keeps me cuddling with his sweatshirt long after he's gone. 


Maybe I am too deep to see the truth in all this. He is leaving in 4 months. He and I haven't even tried to make it work legitimately since August. We've been hiding and sneaking around and falling in love behind curtains for 6 months. 
But I'd do anything for the fluttering in my heart right now.

I can't say I love him out loud. I can't say it to him. My voice won't make the sounds. But I can feel myself telling him. I can feel him saying it back. After we kiss, when both still have our eyes closed and I sneak a tiny peek, the smile on his face... thats enough. That moment, right there, is what dreams are made of. 


The decision's made.
I can't give up on a dream like that.
L

starting over

Wall! Finally, I have found it. I hit it tonight! Didn't hurt myself, didn't hurt the wall. Passersby probably didn't even notice that I touched the wall, but I know that I found it.
Since my expectations are set so unbelievably low for C, he doesn't have to do much to surpass them and impress me and make me fall all over again. But I hold a big double standard for men- obviously- in that no other guy can hit any expectation that I have set for them. Every other guy falls miserably short, to the point where I fear I may be alone forever.
It seems that I have only one option left. This option will get rid of C and finish the difficult meeting/dating/dumping cycle I've gotten stuck in! Ready? I don't know that you are... but without further ado, the final frontier:
arranged marriage!

If I pick one, and stick to that one, then I'll have to deal with it no matter what "it" may be! As noted on How I Met Your Mother this week, "free-will gets you constant, ego-shattering uncertainty," which is something I just do not need. An arranged marriage would give me no choices, I'd have to love him, I'd have to appreciate him, and any kind of pre-conceived expectations would be completely irrelevant.
Ok. Thats the plan. Cutest guy I meet this weekend gets to be mine forever, whether we're compatible or not. We'll make it work. I believe in us. Thus begins the great adventure of the only relationship for the rest of my life.
The beginning really is the best part.
L

entertainment value

Confession: In the car the other morning I used my iPhone (app: Shazam) to find out what cd C had playing so that I could listen to it when I got home. Not because I liked it instinctively or found myself wanting to hear more, but because I want to be listening to what he's listening to. Thats silly. I need a better hobby than this boy.

(Pause.. moment of thought... a better hobby... really? do I reaaallllyyy need a new one? hmmm... no. I'm convinced. You're not? Pause... moment of thought....)

But this hobby can just be so much fun sometimes!! Can crossstitch buy you a beer? Can tennis kiss you goodnight? Can thinking about coin collecting keep your heart aflutter all night? (If it can, I would like to discuss that further with you... in a more private setting...). 

Yea, I'll stick with this one. If all else fails, I'm broadening my musical horizons.

There's really no harm in that. 

L