Looking Forward

It’s amazing how sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone can be just what you need. I’ve been in private sadness for quite some time. Most of my life really. I have a terrible habit of telling people I’m just fine and keeping everything to myself – the main reason I started this blog, actually. Yesterday I got back in contact with my ex husband and made an (admittedly vague) post on Facebook about feeling more lost the more I try to find myself. It was a rough day. I hadn’t felt pain like that in a while. Since then, it’s amazed me how some people really do care. My mother surprised me today by cleaning my entire apartment while I was away at work, my ex husband randomly texted me about the puzzle he’s working on that we had bought together and he took with him in the separation, and a mother from the old preschool I used to work at reached out to me to talk openly about depression and finding yourself when you feel alone. I think sometimes we build it up in our heads that nobody cares because we’ve lost that value in ourselves. I’m still hurting but I feel like I can breathe a little. I haven’t been completely forgotten.

On another note, I’m doing something I swore I’d never do. For a little while now I’ve been talking to two different people. Bad, bad, I know. In all fairness I started talking to them around the same time. The both live a decent distance from me so it’s only been texting thus far and that’s been a comfort. They’re both quite different from each other and one obviously has much more interest in me than the other – at this point. I don’t know where those are going to go but rest assured, it’ll come out here. It’s been a good escape. I do want to move forward, get close to someone. I’ve already blabbed on in detail about my longing for intimacy again. One works nights (making talking a pain) and lives alone with a cat. We have extremely similar interests and sense of humor and have already broached the heated sex conversations. The other is a single father of two, more eager about life it seems, and is available to talk to during the day which is nice. Physically the first is more my usual type but I’ve come to discover that “types”are meaningless. A great personality is far more attractive than anything else. Guy one is working on saving for a downpayment on a new car since his last one was wrecked, then hoping to come visit for a “real date.” I haven’t even broached the subject of meeting guy two, though he attended the Holi Festival that I went to after I told him all about it. Didn’t see him, but honestly was pretty preoccupied with the festivities. He even started reading my favorite book series once I told him about it. On book 2 already, quite impressive.

We’ll see where all of that goes. Right now it’s time for a shower, my favorite part of the day.


Missing Happiness

Today, on a whim, I decided to text my ex-husband while I was on break. I hadn’t spoken to him since December when I was deep in the abusive clutches of that awful living situation. I’ve been feeling extremely lonely and hopeless today and had a maddening curiosity as to how he has been doing. Immediately tears came pouring down my face. He’s trying his best but is quite lonely where he is. I can’t help but feel responsible. When we started going downhill, I uprooted us to where my family lives for extra support on my end. Upon our separation, he opted to move out of state again to stay with his mother. Everyone we knew, grew up with, is far away and terrible at keeping contact outside of facebook likes. Our relationship wasn’t a bad one. We had some amazing times and he’s the best friend that I’ve ever had – just not the best partner in a marriage. I thought back to the good times, and even the bad ones when I thought things were so terrible. How very wrong I was. Things got much worse for me after our split.

It’s not that I want to be with him again. We’re both different people and I know this. I want to move forward. However, being so alone in a place where you feel like nobody really knows you makes you long for the connections you once had. It hurts my heart to hear that he’s lonely and struggling. I wish nothing but the best for him in life and I truly want to see him thrive. I guess it kind of gave me some comfort to know it’s hard on him too, though, in a terrible selfish way.

My sadness is crippling today. I feel like, despite reconnecting with my mother, moving here hasn’t helped me move forward in life at all. This last year has been nothing but a step backwards and now I’m thrown back into the muck I was in a year ago, yet more damaged. I’m barely keeping my head above water and waking each day with nothing to look forward to. I go through the motions but my heart’s not in it.

I feel incredibly lost and honestly don’t know what to do to pull myself out of it.

The Minx I Was

“I’ve never done this before” he stuttered, as my hand gently grazed his thigh. My eyes met him with a reassuring smile as I leaned in to softly kiss his cheek, making my way below his ear and down his neck before he turned to me and hungrily met my lips with his. His kisses were gentle but voracious and I could feel the heat rising off of his skin as our hands reached for each others bodies, pulling one another closer together.

Still entwined, we collapsed on the bed, lips never pulling apart. I could feel his erection press against my thigh, grinding into me as his leg pressed against my eager sex. Like teenagers we fumbled our clothes off hastily, breath already labored with passion. To my surprise he was absolutely huge and I craved every last bit that he had to offer. It was hard, sweaty, passionate. Every touch, every breath getting lost in a cloud of heat and wandering mouths. The sexual connection was intense, held in place by eye contact and moans. He didn’t last long enough for me to taste him, but by that point I was ravaged and grateful for the chance to rest.

We didn’t see each other again after that but he would frequently send me messages telling me how he couldn’t stop thinking about that night, about our tryst together. The inexperienced young man who was shown the time of his life by the older minx with a basket-full of tricks. I would smile, flirt back. I craved his touch again but we were never able to reconnect again. Shame.

I used to have this confidence about me all the time. I still maintain a great deal of pride in the sexual department but have this terrible issue standing in my way of being able to initiate or begin the process. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to flirt. Not that I necessarily miss the meaningless sex, but the confidence to attain what I want when I want it. And, ok, sometimes the meaningless sex too. I’ve surpassed my record of time without so much as a kiss and it’s driving me insane. Even a night of hot and heavy making out to think about later would be nice. I’m sure I know one or two people who would be happy to oblige but I freeze up and come up with excuses in my head not to. Would it help me get past this rut if I were to suck it up and go for it? Should I just close up shop on the lady bits to everyone but  myself? You know you miss intimacy when your porn searches change from rough group sex to “for women” sensual clips.  I just want some good, passionate, affectionate sex. Damnit.

Fear of Feeling

I’ve been trying to pinpoint what’s really been holding me back lately. I think back to before my 6 month shit show and how differently I handled myself. I would easily meet people, no anxiety about it. We’d get a drink, have a deep discussion. If we clicked, I had no problem making a move. Brushing a hand, begging for touch and intimacy with a look, a sweet peck on the cheek to initiate physical contact. If I began to really like them, I would cautiously hold onto it until I knew whether or not they reciprocated and then let it blossom naturally, excited for the unknown.

I feel like my experiences changed me. I’m an anxiety-ridden mess when it comes to the idea of meeting someone. I find myself having to get to know someone for weeks before I’m willing to even grab coffee together, and even then my mind is constantly filling with doubts and fears. If I begin to feel something for somebody, it terrifies me and I end up talking myself out of it, trying to let go of it like a stray balloon. With feelings comes vulnerability and I’m really not sure how much more heartache I can endure before I become ice cold. I was never the type to be afraid of commitment. I find great peace and inspiration in having a partner, and I’m sure I still would, but now I have a constant lingering fear – a little voice in my head that tells me I’ll only be used again.

The whole reason I moved to that backwoods town was the guy I had been dating (and not long for that matter) had called me up in tears. He told me of his ex taking his children, of being haunted by past experiences and getting depressed to the point of suicidal. I’ve lost friends to suicide before, once because I wasn’t there when they asked me for help, and I vowed never to let that happen again. I hopped in my car and drove the hour to go be there for him to help him through the night. I ended up staying to make sure he was stable, all the while having to call in for work during a very busy time. I missed two days. They fired me. With no place to go, I suppose Grumpy felt guilty and offered for me to live with him. A few months in I discovered he was an alcoholic pathological liar. All of the things he had told me were complete bullshit and he was trying to drag me down with him. When I broke up with him, I was still stuck living there as his roommate for 3 months. Grumpy was always drunk and not a happy drunk, especially with someone in the household who had “broken his heart.” On a daily basis he would harass me. He would try to pick fights, calling me a Godless whore, explaining just how hideous I was, saying how I was useless and worthless and a pussy for feeling hurt for the experiences in my life. That was when I met Micky, who was graciously helpful. There, my feelings began again. I knew they shouldn’t but I couldn’t help it. He just so happened to be everything I ever wanted in a partner, or so my desperate mind thought. In the end we both knew we had feelings but needed to let them go. So I did. It took time and it hurt but I’ve had no contact with him for weeks. He seems to show no interest and that in itself still hurts as well.

So that’s where I’m at. Fear of Feeling. The last two people I grew feelings for either emotionally and mentally (hell, and physically) abused the fuck out of me or built my heart up only to send it sailing away. I feel like everyone has an ulterior motive and I can’t trust a soul. It’s a terrible way to feel and exactly what Grumpy wanted to achieve. I guess his methods were successful – asshole.

So how does one overcome this fear? How do you let yourself be vulnerable when you feel like it’s you against the world? I’m tired of being alone. I really am.. but I’m afraid of others’ ability to hurt me. Maybe it’ll just take the right person to be patient enough to put me at ease.

Whiskey Induced Thoughts

I’ve been spending most of my afternoon/evening sipping coffee with bourbon, brown sugar and a splash of milk. It’s fantastically delicious and has led to me cleaning my whole apartment and dancing my ass off to Tool and Faith No More. My head is scattered so I’m going to try to empty it of a bit of its riffraff.

  1. Trump is terrifyingly close-minded and I shudder at the thought of him winning the presidency. I live my life with the theme of love and respect and hearing his shitty hate-based, close minded, petty junior high level bullshit just makes me want to shove his horrible hair piece down his own throat. How the hell do you have a presidential candidacy based off of dodging questions and poking fun at your running mates? Sometimes I fantasize about slapping every damn Trump supporter in their smug, retarded faces. I’m pretty sure America wasn’t founded on hatred towards everyone who didn’t believe the same thing you do. Isn’t that why people came here in the first place? To escape being forced to follow something they didn’t believe? Just love your fellow human, regardless of sexual orientation, faith or race. Not every Muslim is a terrorist just like not every Christian is a saint. Get the fuck over yourselves.

2. I pride myself on forgiving those who have hurt me in my past. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s really fucking hard. I can vividly remember the moment I decided to speak my forgiveness out loud for those who have hurt me. The hardest hurdles were my father’s widow and my grandmother. It took me years to forgive them but once I did I felt so freed. At the moment I’m having a lot of trouble bringing myself to forgive Grumpy McDrunkypants, or his mother for that matter. He sent me a text today asking how I was doing. I looked at my phone and said “How dare you fucking text me!” I haven’t felt such hatred toward someone in such a long time. I’m not proud of it but he screwed me up so much that I’m not ready to let it go. I’m not a fan of the word “cunt”. It’s sharp and harsh and I have plenty of other fun words but I couldn’t keep count of how many times I called him that right before I left. Even that didn’t seem a harsh enough word. Fuck that guy in his stupid alcoholic abusive face. This one will take me some time to move past. I should really print out a picture of his face to adhere to a punching bag. I’ll be in shape in no time. Fucker.

3. It’s interesting how different types of alcohol will have different effects on a person. After years of irresponsible drinking, I now know what I can handle and what I should stay away from. Vodka used to be my drink of choice. I’d drink it day in and day out. I had a vodka drinking buddy who I’d spend most of my time with and when I wasn’t with him I’d drink it on my own. It became a terrible habit that began to affect my job at the time. Fortunately I met my ex husband at that time and re-discovering marijuana helped me to get over my vodka addiction. I don’t touch the stuff now. Even the smell makes me cringe thinking of the awful way I felt the next day. Gin, I only had once as a teenager. I remember filling a water bottle full of it and sipping it at home, feeling so rebellious. I didn’t even enjoy it. Haven’t touched it since. Tequila makes me horny but it’s been ages since I actually drank a margarita with someone of the opposite sex so I haven’t even been able to take advantage of its side effects. PSH. The last time I drank mead was at a renaissance festival where I almost got kicked out of poetry readings for being the obnoxious drunk in the front row. Apparently it makes me quite perverted and obnoxious..so a pirate. Mead makes me a pirate. I used to think whiskey made me sick but realized that was because every time I had it before, I mixed it with a ton of other liquors. I’ve recently begun to drink it and realized it makes me happy, energetic and confident. I’m a fan! My favorite by far is wine, though. Wine drunk is the best! I become more talkative and open but don’t lose my sense of right and wrong. Also, the closest to a hangover I’ve ever had from wine was half an hour of a headache. No biggie. Though I’d still take a bowl over a drink any day. Just saying.

4. So I’m going on about 8 weeks without sex. I’m frustrated but not overly so. If I’m out for an orgasm, nobody is as skilled as myself as delivering one. I can hit 3 in 10 minutes if I do it the right way. What I really miss is kissing. That’s something I can’t take care of myself. I miss feeling someone’s lips against mine, gently prodding their lips apart with my tongue until theirs meet mine with gentle passion, tenderly pressing my lips against the sweet little corner of their lips and traveling slowly along their jawline, behind their ear, down their neck to the collar bone that I always crave. That feeling when someone kisses along my neck, letting their hot breath bathe my sensitive skin along the way. Damnit, now I’m getting horny again.

5. I just heard a commercial for Raising Cane’s talking about their lemonade and sweet tea served over their “signature crushed ice.” Signature crushed ice? Really, Cane’s? Really?

Ergh, time for a refill.




Moving on Without Closure

Closure is one of those little things that usually requires nothing more than an awkward conversation to achieve but has a massive effect on your ability to move forward. When a relationship ends for me, I make sure to have a mature conversation about it and it gives me closure to move on almost instantly. When closure comes into play, my mind easily will put things in black and white terms so that I can close that chapter and turn to a new one. However, sometimes closure isn’t an option. Those are the hardest things to move past.

I won’t say that my closure-less experiences necessarily hinder my life in any major way anymore but the curiosity will always be there. When I was a teenager I had a friend named Jens. He was your typical laid-back stoner skater kid. He wasn’t very good academically but he was always upbeat and positive (not to mention everyone’s hook up for pot.) One day they told us that he had killed himself. A shotgun to the head while staying out in the country with his uncle. Anyone who knew him didn’t believe it for a moment. He was the happiest kid around. The gun used was way too long for him to operate and his CD player had Suicide Machines in it (I guess to be ironic?) though anyone who knew him would suggest the Doors as to his preferred moody music. We knew that he had competition dealing in the area and he made it well known where he was staying for the weekend. Unfortunately his family opted not to launch any investigation. In fact they chose to have an open casket where they reconstructed his skull and face. It didn’t even look like him. I think that alone kind of made us all want to just not think about it anymore.

My other major lack-of-closure moment was the death of my father and little brother. My dad was a pilot and every year my brother and him would fly in his plane up to Wisconsin for an annual air show and to visit some of his family members. In 2009 they never came back. We hadn’t heard from them in quite some time and were getting worried. My mother started making calls to anyone and everyone trying to find them since my dad’s phone went straight to voicemail. Eventually she got a hold of a morgue in a small country town that confirmed that they were there. Apparently they had seen ‘home’ popping up on my dad’s phone but didn’t have the heart to answer it. I can remember walking into the room and asking my mother if they were okay. She screamed “They’re DEAD!” and broke into sobs. My mind turned to white noise. My legs moved on their own and I ended up in my closet staring at a wall for a while before I could digest what was happening. The official report was that they had run out of gas 20 minutes from home and struck a power line trying to crash land, sending them into a tail spin. My father’s cousin (who works for the government but nobody knows what he does) happened to be there at the site within 2 hours of the crash. He claims that he spoke to my brother before he died. First of all, my dad called us from a gas station an hour away from home. He was gassing up as he spoke so there’s no possible way they ran out of gas (they claim there weren’t even fumes) and also, how the fuck did my dad’s cousin happen to find out what had happened and make it out to the site in the middle of nowhere in time to speak to my brother when we didn’t have a clue what had happened? It drove my sister and I mad but my mother wouldn’t even talk about it. It was easier for her to just accept what they said. I still have no idea what really happened. Ever feel like someone you lost really never died and that one day you’ll just be picking up a drink at a gas station and they’ll walk right past you?

Two weeks later I started my senior year of high school and thus, had to move on immediately. This is why I prefer closure. I don’t want to dwell on an issue. I need to constantly feel like I’m moving forward and having some situation cloud up a corner of my head with questions about things that I know I need to let go really bothers me. Pictures and posts from Micky kept popping up last night. For the most part I’ve gotten past it. If I don’t think about him I’m fine and usually I can keep my mind occupied elsewhere. Seeing a picture of him did not help this. I felt a sharp pang of anxiety – though in retrospect, it may simply be reminding me of such a traumatic time in my life that triggered it. Part of me just wants to block him. I need to move on. I have a lot to give and giving it to a memory is like burning money. Being able to look back at my experiences with him as fond memories with entirely separate goals in my life will be my closure there. I’m ready to be loved back.

The Standoff

I find it pretty amusing that we all want someone like ourselves in our life yet we remain hopeful that the other person will balance our downfalls.

I met Hedburg a few weeks ago (nicknamed as such because of his insanely similar mannerisms). He’s also a photographer and an introvert who relies on his eyes to convey emotion far more than his words (hello twin) though where mine are super dark, his are clear blue. We hung out a couple of times, with plans to spend time together over the weekend, but he caught a stomach bug and it never happened. Well I guess we both told ourselves that we’d wait until the other person texted before we said anything..

A week later, I’m bored and shoot Hedburg a ‘poke’ text. Come to find out he’s been bummed out all week long because I never texted him and he was too shy to text first. I feel like a teenager. It really makes me reflect back on my own conversational tactics because I did the exact same thing. I wanted to hang out with him again, but on the off-chance that his illness was an excuse, I didn’t push the issue. My bad. Now he has his daughter and I’m sure it’ll be a little while until we can hang out again but I made us both promise to be better about saying hi first. This standoff business is just silly.

Note to self: It’s okay to say hi first.

Holi 2016

These last two days have been so much fun but quite exhausting. The highlight of the weekend so far is definitely the Holi Festival, though. This was my second year going and I had such a great time. It doesn’t matter who you are, everyone is united together in color and dance. Unfortunately this sunburn is making me feel completely worn out but it was absolutely worth it. I cannot wait until it comes around again next year!

I’m also quite proud that I figured out how to use plastic bags and duct tape to protect my camera so that I could bring it this year. How can you resist photographing such amazing color and energy? Man, I miss photography.

I also discovered, upon walking home from the festival, a new neighbor moving in furniture downstairs. I really should attempt this ‘knowing my neighbors’ thing, especially since Art Major is going to be moving out soon.

A Shift

So it’s been a little while. I was sick this week and the kiddos at work were insane. Most of my time has been spent with Netflix and Alka Seltzer cold & allergy medicine. Thankfully, I’m beginning to feel much better. Plus it’s a 3 day weekend for me starting tomorrow so I have that going for me.

It struck me as kind of interesting that in this last week 2 different people have told me all about their dating escapades with girls. Friend-zone achieved! It’s what I’ve been needing and although part of me is sad to not be seen in that attractive light, the other part of me is quite comforted to know that a person feels comfortable enough with me to tell me details of their life without my prompting. Is it obvious I haven’t really had friends in a while? It’s kind of a big deal, the prospect of a friend.

The first was Jerry. He had me over for dinner Saturday night while he was house-sitting for his mom. Her house was beautiful so I didn’t complain at all. He cooked okay steaks and I played with his dog. Soon I was sipping bourbon and he was drinking vodka. We were having a great time messing with Alexa, listening to old Elton John, and talking. He told me all about this girl he likes who says she’s into him but also her professor at the same time and doesn’t know what to choose. I probably said something along the lines of “Good luck with that.” I stayed there hanging out until about midnight when apparently this girl said she was coming over. Jerry apologetically kicked me out and then apologized more the next day. I wasn’t offended. We had a really great time but he’s also someone I’ve known for a year and staying close as a friend that long with someone since I’ve moved is a big deal.

The other one was my quirky neighbor. When I lived in this same apartment last year, he was my neighbor then as well. I worked downtown across the street from an Arts Center which he happened to work at. One day my coworker and I went there for coffee and I finally said hi. Since then we run into each other here and there at the apartments when we happen to be having a cigarette at the same time. He’s a picturesque arts student. Very dramatic and detailed with his conversation. Recently he’s starting calling me ‘baby’ in casual conversation. Not in a flirty way, like in an endearing way a southern black woman would say it. He’s flamboyant as hell but apparently quite straight. I was coming home from the store as he was leaving. He rolled down his window and said hey. I was in a pretty terrible mood that day so I wasn’t feeling very social but I smiled and said hi as I pulled my groceries out of my trunk. He immediately told me that I’d never believe where he was going – a church picnic get-together to meet up with some girl. I told him good luck but generally for me, devout Christians and I don’t tend to make a good match. He said “Oh baby, me too. But she’s really hot sooo….” I told him to go for it and brought my bags in. I don’t really consider neighbor guy a friend, just my neighbor, but it is always entertaining to get locked into a conversation with him. 80% of our encounters are him on his 24th hour without sleep drunk on wine trying to finish an art project. It’s pretty entertaining, to be honest. Can’t wait to hear how his picnic went when I see him next.

Pool guy finally stopped texting me constantly. Hopefully for good? Guy just rubbed me the wrong way. I do think, however, that I’m ready to dip my toe into the dating pool again. I know I’m still getting my act together here but I feel more confident and in control every day. I still think about Micky from time to time but don’t have the urge to be the first to text. I’m letting that go. Looking ahead and hoping the best for him as well. I need to focus on my own life and needs. Speaking of which, I’ve just hit 6 weeks without any romantic affection – not just sex but even a kiss. It really kind of fucking blows. I know that I still have my touch issue to combat but I feel like if I’m comfortable with someone, it will be okay. I really miss kisses. Sometimes I’ll kiss my teddy bear at night but then he gives me this dead-eyed look that tells me I’m pathetic so I tell him not to judge me and go to sleep.

This weekend is the Holi Festival which I have been looking forward to for a while. I went last year with my mom and we had a blast. She’s coming with me again (since it’s only a 15  minute walk from my apartment) and I can’t wait. I think being out in public around other people will be good for me. Last year I ran into several people that I knew. I wonder if I will this year too. Either way, it’s good to have something to look forward to.

Rejection and Acceptance

When two people meet each other and mutually want to continue to see one another, it’s a great thing. Generally I give a few goes at hanging out with someone to really get a feel for how we get along. My main goal any time I meet someone is friendship, bottom line. If we connect and a spark emerges that’s fantastic but it’s not a necessity at a time in my life when I don’t have many friends around.

Sometimes, however, you meet someone and have a terrible experience hanging out with them. Occasionally, if it goes really bad and I make it obvious how uninterested I am, it’s easy to just stop talking to each other and move on. However, when the other person is super into you and you don’t reciprocate, it gets uncomfortable.

Guy I played pool with a while back, the one who put his arm around my shoulder and made my personal space alarms go berserk, keeps blowing up my phone. The problem is, he’s a nice person but I just don’t feel like I click with him at all. We don’t seem to share similar interests, he’s not good at picking up any conversational cues. At one point I even explained that I’m not in any place to want anything more than friendship with anyone and that I felt bothered when he touched me to see if it would give a hint but now he’s asking to hang out all the time and won’t stop texting about crap I just simply don’t give a shit about. I’m getting tired of making up excuses to not be available.

How do you tell someone that they’re a nice person but that you have nothing in common and it doesn’t make any sense to be THAT into me after I played pool with you super shittily and then watching some Archer? I hate being that guy. Normally I would say we could still be friends but again, this guy has really no redeeming qualities to offer me as a friend either.. which may be mean to say but it’s true. Ugh. Eventually I’ll get up the courage to say something.

On the plus side, been spending a lot of time with Jerry lately and surprising myself as to how much I’ve enjoyed it. He’s odd. He speaks fluent sarcasm and dry humor with a straight face and he’s quick with it. These are my keys to conversation and he sails far above and beyond me at it. I actually really like that. Puns and sarcasm make me happy and random witty remarks about things like getting a meal at a Christian restaurant and having it come with all the ‘cruci-fixins’ make me actually laugh out loud which I don’t feel I do near enough in my life. We went to a book sale this morning and then for smoothies and a walk around the book store this afternoon. Invited me for dinner later and I’m really thinking about it. Plus he has a west highland terrier who wears a hoodie. I mean…

May just be friendship but I find myself being flirtatious with him without even realizing it. The word “phrasing” was tossed around a lot in conversation today. It just flows and we were both giggling all the way through the store. Who knows. I’ve known him longer than almost anyone over here and he was the first to come welcome me when I moved back here – actually the only one who didn’t just send a ‘welcome’ through Facebook.  He’s the only one who really makes an effort (besides pool guy) to hang out with  me on a regular basis. He even invited me out on St. Patrick’s Day after work for some Black & Tans and a rack of lamb shepherd’s pie to celebrate me starting my new job. Maybe I’m the one who hasn’t been showing him the attention he deserves.

This literally did not dawn on me until I was driving home from the bookstore and noticed a stupid grin on my face. Hmmm.