love

#26 The Best Parts of Breaking Up 12/22/14

Being almost 2 months out from my last breakup, I have begun to enjoy the shifts of my mind and heart. I’m no longer sad, I have the benefit of distance without emotionality and can see the flaws and all the ways my ex wasn’t capable of meeting me where I was. Once you see that, you have reached a level of acceptance that simply makes you grateful you dodged a bullet.

I’ve been back on the dating websites which will be a completely separate but most entertaining post but getting back in the game can be fun as well. There is the beginning of the transition where you get your life back, where you stop having to make accommodations that eventually made you feel resentful, now you do for you, just for you and it feels good. You go back, to those things that you perhaps let go in the informal unsaid compromises that happen, in attempt to make things work. It feels good, you start to feel like you again and you remember how great your life is. After a while sometimes you notice a feeling, a restless energy build. It’s hard to put your finger on it at first, it’s like feeling like to you need to go out for a run. A stirring to be physically active, movement, push, pull, exertions, sweat, force, propelling, hard, fast, exhausting and sweaty. You realize it’s not a run you need to go for, it’s not that type of release, but rather soon you realize, that what you need, is to get laid. The absence of your option to have sex, when you want it is temporarily gone. Rarely will a woman get turned down and in a relationship it’s almost never, I could wake my ex up out of a sound sleep and he was able and willing to take care of my needs. It wasn’t always the best of the best due to the tired factor but if I had a want or need it was available. You get a little desire dizzy and you begin to think of and be open to a new person taking care of your wants, and in fact you start to look forward to it.525

The first time someone flirts with you and you are receptive to it and flirt back even if it’s just for fun. The first time someone kisses you after your ex can be one of the best parts of breaking up. The first time you experience a desire and feel desired in that way can help put your mantra back in your strut “I’m hot and I don’t give a fuck.”  Now, this can be when you find a new love, begin dating, chatting with someone regularly or it can just be when you make the conscious decision to take a new lover. This sounds so very …..French ……but pourquoi pas?

As I entered my 40s I realized one of the greatest parts of myself is my sexuality, it is confident, funny, open to surrender, fun, and feel good moments. I have done this more so in the past few years and its fun and enjoyable a release of energy. These aren’t the loves of my life, intellectual match or soul mates. They are or well as a rule have always been younger than me, sometimes much younger because what I need is something light, something easy, something fun, FUN, get that? FUN. The relationship I just got out of especially at the end was not fun, it was miserable, filled with fighting, filled with difficult moments, filled with moments of not getting our needs met, heavy, at times boring, and definitely not easy. A new lover is all those things and sometimes more. A new lover is funny, a new lover’s kiss makes every inch of your body feel a buzz, a new lover banters, a new lover flirts, a new lover wants. Just like your relationship was in the beginning but without all the arguments, drama or baggage. Remember those good ol’ days? Well I’m about to, remember them, repeatedly with abandonment, cause “I’m hot and I don’t give a fuck……yet.”

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#24 11/1/14 The other worst part of breaking up …doing it again

I take a deep breath as I begin to write this.  It’s fresh, very fresh, like Wed night, two nights ago, last minute visit to my therapist who I like to drop in on when someone I love dies or a relationship ends fresh.  I’ve had a lot of both in the recent years.

Shortly after my last post of top ten things that are hard when you break up, I agreed to take a call from my ex about one and half weeks after he broke up with me. First it came as a text, asking if he could call me, I immediately apologize for not sending him his belongings yet because I am packing for the move, he says that’s not why he called.  I then text if the kids were ok, he says yes, I then text if he is ok and he says “not really.” He gets the kids to bed and calls. I am speechless, I am paralyzed, I am shocked, literally shocked, I can’t believe the words I am hearing.  He explains that he feels he made a mistake and  made his decision in haste and anger and he has really been missing me.  He asks to drive up to see me the next day, to talk with me, to try and see if we can….. try again.

I’m anxious, nervous waiting for him to arrive. I jump as the phone vibrates in my hand, I look down and see the text “I’m Here”, a text I awaited each time he came to visit for the 9 months we were together.  He comes up the sidewalk and our eyes lock, he walks in, we hug, cry, hug and cry. We go to lunch, he takes responsibility for everything, he tells me where he went wrong, where he let us down, what he now knows and how he loves me, how much he loves me, how much he missed me, how much he needs me and how much he wants to be with me.

I’m scared, fucking terrified to trust him, almost 10 days ago I was sobbing and packing when we parted.  Luckily I had enough distractions, purchasing my first home, getting a new car and switching jobs.  I associate my house purchase with him, he was with me every part of the way and even came to my inspection.  At the restaurant he is vulnerable, open, honest, open-hearted totally open, it’s on his sleeve, on the pancakes, the table, in the coffee, slowly running over my hands and back into my heart.  I’m choking on a mixture of pain, hope, sadness, confusion, anticipation, fear, fear, fear…..so much fear but its dripping in the sweet sticky syrup of want, desire and heartache.  Within a week we are pretty much back together.  Things go great, wonderful, we are open, he communicates what he is thinking, what he is feeling, we tackle the potential problems, head on, together #teamlisaandmike.

It takes three months before I find myself in the exact same place.  Asking him not to make this decision, not to do this again, not to run because he is full of fear, not  to give up on us,   but I have already lost him and I know it.  I know he is starting therapy on Saturday I tell him lets not make any decisions now, lets wait, I’ll give him time, no pressure, he can start therapy and I will just wait and be here for him. I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait my voice trails off a sad whisper giving up.

He is not willing, able, he can’t do it anymore.  Prior to today he had been talking to friends about us, explaining how we have been fighting too much, his friends tell him that is part of being in a relationship and that every couple works through it.  As a last-ditch effort he went to his parents home and talks to them. His mother tells him to stick with it and keep trying because we love each other but his Dad tells him to bail and he does.  He was just waiting, waiting for that one person to say “leave” it was the permission to submit and he took it.

I feel a flush of anger like a burning shot from my stomach through my heart into my throat.  I’m so fucking pissed off.  He fucking sold us out, he sold me out.  He let a person outside our relationship judge us and decide our fate. His dad who is responsible for so much of the baggage he carries today.  He objects and weakly argues he didn’t “let Daddy make his decision”  “Daddy didn’t tell him what to do.”  I’m sickened, disgusted, ” “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”    You  have just made it so we can never be together again or ever be around your family, you’ve made it impossible for me to love or ever be loved by your family .  For me in that moment the love is replaced by hate. The next two days are about wiping all traces of each other off Instagram, a few more weepy texts, and the packing up of his shit and mailing it out.  I meditate, I cry, I curse, I yoga, I spend time with friends and text everyone the update. It’s over.

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What’s the expiration date on happiness? 8/2/14 #22

I believe that overall I am a very upbeat, positive, go getter type of person. Although I have seemed to have several tragedies within the last couple of years I am resilient as fuck. I always land on my feet and everything works out just fine. Sure some of my setbacks or losses have taken me longer to work through and perhaps some will always stay with me, but in the end I end up happy once again. I have begun taking more note of the truely happy moments and find that those real moments of bliss and warmth and contentment are a few seconds or maybe minutes long. Driving with the windows down, sun on my face, music blaring and there it is, a smile creeps over my face, I haven’t a care in the world, I feel good, I feel full, I feel bliss. Moments later, it quietly fades away.

It’s not that when that feeling fades, that I am unhappy or that I stop feeling good. I just go from feeling elevated to feeling back to my normal cruising altitude. These nano-moments happen everywhere, in yoga for that like 20 seconds when I can actually hold tree pose, right after I clean the entire house, at work when I make a difference, being in the middle of cooking a healthy clean meal with a good beer in one hand, stir stepping and dancing around the kitchen, or those first few seconds after an amazing orgasm with the person you love or feel crushingly connected to. Over, done, finito, terminado, the end and then back to your normal you. Being normal me is pretty good, often fun but it can also be stressful, lonely at times, overwhelming and deep like the kind of deep that can make you tired.

These things make up most of us or at least those of us that are aware of our role in this world and the connection to those that surround us. I have seen the “ignorance is bliss” play out in people’s lives, those totally unreal, completely not normal HIGHLY ELEVATED people. I’m suspicious of those people because I think a balanced life includes a dose of reality, some soul searching and moments of heartache.

I used to always ask my ex boyfriend “Are you happy?” I think hoping to catch him in his moments of bliss, I think there may have been times when I did, I’m not sure. I know that while we were together at times I felt a smile creep over my face, I felt like I didn’t have a care in the world, I felt good, I felt full, I felt bliss but about 2 weeks ago it was time to come down to my normal cruising altitude and maybe even encounter some turbulence. We had been arguing and struggling more than usual for the past two months same old same old. He was a people pleaser I’m totally direct, he is scared of putting his ass out on the line when something matters to him and once asked me where I got my strength from, I didn’t know the answer. I think now that it comes from heartache, feeling like life has knocked you down but you still got back up. He has been knocked down but never really got up again. We had these talks before, wondered if we should be dating “now” but when I asked he never wanted to take a break.

We loved each other and I believe he was given to me, brought to me to hold my hand through the death of my mother and my dear friend Becky’s end to her battle with breast cancer. We were in each others karmic path. He made his contributions to my life and I to his but not without our small scars along the way. Our relationship took him out of his comfort zones many many times and as a result hightened his anxiety. When you date someone who suffers from depression it’s like there is a third person in the relationship that silently has an impact on your life. If I am honest with myself I knew it was coming and I didn’t do anything about it.  I left it to him and one nasty fight where we both forgot to remember to be kind, forgot to listen to each other and forgot that we were defensive because of our individual baggage. It makes me sad that I didn’t rise above that line because it only would have taken one of us to soften up the other and provide a reason to allow clear heads and full hearts to prevail but we reached the end and went our seperate ways at the fork on the path of bliss.

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An Anal Agreement between both parties required 2/17/14 #19

About 2 weeks after my mother died we celebrated our first Christmas without parents.  I’ve said it before being without both of your parents leaves you feeling somewhat lost.  It’s like you have erased your history, where you came from, who you belong to.  It feels as though you are a tree without roots.  The strange counterpart to this is I have spent my whole life trying to cut myself from my family, my tree and now I feel afloat without it.   Fast forward to Xmas, I had been dating someone for just a few weeks things are going well as they always are at the start of something new and fresh.  He is a welcome soft place to land as I sort through the feelings of losing my mother.

I had been fighting one of the worst migraines I have ever had it was Christmas Eve and the sister with whom I am still speaking to had invited me along with her family to my brother in-laws siblings home.    I like them, they are like the family my sister and I kind of wanted, they are not without their flaws but they love each other and they show up for each other ….always.   I am close in age to my bro in laws brother P, and for a short time in college he and I ran in the same social circles so I was really looking forward to spending the holiday with them and some old faces.

The headache prevailed and eventually I ended up right where I started on the couch sleeping away the skull crushing pain.  Tossing and turning, kicking off blankets and pulling them back on was alternated with occasional sips of water before I was reminded that the pain had not gone away.  Sleeping was my only option.  At about 3 am I woke up to an almost burning pain emanating from my arse.   Yes arse.  ARSE. ARSE. ASS, DUPA, CULO.  To be exact my arsehole.

What the fuck is that??? goddamnit, what the fuck, ow, Ow OWWWWW!

I jumped up off the couch and went straight to the bathroom, I had no idea what was happening but I knew one thing my ass hurt, hurt like a burn, like a scrape that gets hot water splashed on it in the shower.

Wait I felt this on Sunday after M and I had sex and I was in the shower, what the hell is my malfunction?

M the new guy I had been dating had left on Sunday for home, today was Tuesday.  On Sunday after a night and day of bent over the edge of the bed, hair tugging, arm behind my back holding, moan filled, back arching, face burying pounding from behind I was taking a shower and felt this slight burn/pain as the warm water ran down my back into my crack.  It was a momentary discomfort that I sort of glossed over I figured it was part of the well  over zealous physicality  from our sexual acrobatics.   Monday was a normal day and I had couple bowel movements which seemed relatively painless until maybe the one on Tuesday morning.  Again that slight sting/burn.

WHAT THE FUCK? DID? HAVE? WHY? IS THIS?  

Gave way to ……DID HE FUCK ME UP THE ASS??? 

Which then gave way to ….DID I NOT KNOW I GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS?

Which then prompted… IS THAT POSSIBLE??

Mental rewind, mental rewind mental rewind.  Ok yes right there, that second as though I was stopping a movie at minute 23 with 11 seconds.  I remember being bent over, really going at it and yep yeah right there, then ,exactly that moment, it started to hurt a little, feel slightly uncomfortable, the discomfort growing, growing and growing up until my pain threshold kicked in.  At the moment I was about to say aloud “ok that hurts” he seemed to readjust and it subsided.  What I would later piece together is he was back in the right hole.  Now I was in full-blown pain, couldn’t stand to have my underwear on or touch even toilet paper to it, note to self, buy more baby wipes.   It’s 3 am, I’m in pain, piecing together the events leading to anal injury and I started to seeth with anger.

Mother fucker, what the fuck, who the fuck does this, who they fuck thinks they can just fuck me in the ass? 

I get out my laptop and begin researching I self diagnose myself with an anal lesion.  It’s common to have a tear occur when one practices, has or has no intention of having had anal without any sort of lubrication.

M, he likes me, as he says he “like likes me”  which is usually a precursor to “I’m falling for you”  which is a precursor to “I love you”.

Why would he do this? Why would he breech my trust in such a way? Guys are pigs!  He doesn’t “like like ” me he doesn’t even “like” me.  He doesn’t have any respect for me, he is terrible at communication, he can’t just take it there without my permission, an extensive talk, long hours of research and  pros and cons list.  ANAL is an agreement, a venture one begins with a handshake of a mutual “I’m in” , at the very least it deserves a prompting of “ok are you ready? I’m gonna stick it in now”. 

As I researched and alternated my weight from side to side as to not apply direct pressure to what now felt like an anal tunnel I stumbled across even more frightening news.

“Transferring one’s penis from the anal cavity back to the vagina leads to exposure to various bacteria from waste.”

I wanted to puke, I was livid, I checked my phone it’s 3:45 I want to call him right this very second and scream “You ass fucked me without my permission, without even my interest, that’ s like rape, that ass rape, that is a violation, how about you let me fuck your ass? How about I don’t ask you and just do it lube free and tear you a new one? Huh? how about that, you fuckin fuck”

The pain sears I go back to researching online but this time for remedies.  I’m thinking like maybe icing, or a cold compress, I have no idea I’ve never tore my ass before….until now.  Most websites recommend ointment or Preparation H.  Makes sense what you would use to treat hemorrhoids would help treat a torn gaping butthole.  Ok perhaps I am exaggerating however in my head it felt like it.

This will probably be the least believable part of this story but I swear on all the ones that I love that still remain on this earth I happened to have Preparation H, not because I have hemorrhoids but because I am vain.  I have used it to treat wicked puffy eyes and bags, essentially it reduces the inflammation.  A makeup artist tipped me off to the trick and told me it is commonly done.  I used it when I began to process the loss of my brother and would cry and cry and cry for hours, the kind of sobbing that makes your chest hurt, your nose run and leaves your lungs gasping for air.  I could hide all of this but I could not hide my swollen eyes when I went to work in the mornings so I used Preparation H.

Eww now I have to touch my finger to my asshole, in a very deliberate way to get this on the tear.

Jesus effin Christ how can this be my life at 4am Xmas morning???

I do it,  and instantly wash my hands scrubbing the index finger which performed the procedure.  I feel instant relieve, a cooling sensation, the burning lessens and then stops but is replaced with an uncomfortable moisture in my crack.  It’s better and worse at the same time different way.

I want to call him, I want to read him the riot act, I want to scream and ask him who the fuck he thinks he is, I will break up with him.  My mind is racing I run through everything I will say I choose my words carefully in case he comes back with some sort of  butt rebuttal.  I check my phone over and over again awaiting the time to call 6 am?? 5 am?? how long do I need to wait?

I text at 6 stating this “as soon as you wake up could you please call me” and I wait what seemed like forever.  What exactly is forever when you are waiting to tell someone they tore your asshole when they shoved their dick in there without asking you?  Not sure.

Almost and hour and half later he calls.  By this time I have had ample time to think, I have calmed down, I have realized that this guys has been open, honest, trustworthy and supportive and 100% in my corner with the passing of my mother.  I remember that it is so unbelievable that anyone would stick around to try and start little less nurture a relationship with someone in such an emotional state, but he has, he has been there every step of the way holding my hand, making me laugh when I needed it , and wiping my tears.

“Hi Good Morning”  …….morning I reply.

“Merry Christmas”  and a flush of embarrassment runs across my face when I hear him say this.  I know I am about to follow-up his seasons greetings with “WHY DID YOU FUCK ME IN THE ASS???” 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas” I mumble.

“Is everything ok? are you ok?” he asks nervously

He knows something is wrong, he thinks I am about to break up with him which seems so counter intuitive considering the weekend we just had together but why else would I have sent such a text?

“I don’t even know how to say this, I know one of things we like most about each other is that we can tell each other anything, anything at all.  We have had such interesting and vulnerable conversations and it has brought us  closer.  What I am about to say is fucked up, really fucked up so I am just going to say it, directly and without sugar coating. “

There is a moment of hesitation, silence and the same hand that nursed my ass hours ago now cradles my forehead as I am about to say something awkward and difficult that will change everything.

“Did, well, Sunday when we were going at it,  um er did you fuck me in the ass?”

Silence.

“What? are you asking me if I, if I, if we had anal?

“Yes”

“No, I mean not that I am aware of in any way, no”  “Why? is something going on down there?”

“Yes, I have a tear or what I can guess after consulting Web M.D. is an anal lesion” 

“What? Do you I mean what happened? ”

“Remember when we were really going at it, well at one point I felt like an intense pulling and upward motion, I thought it was the angle of how you were entering me. I could feel the pressure building and building until it started to become uncomfortable and more uncomfortable and then started crossing over the threshold into pain.  I was just about to tell you but then you moved and it stopped”

“Uh huh, and you think I may have possibly been in the wrong spot?”

“It had to be, there is no other way this could have happened”

“I’m sorry I didn’t intend for that to happen and I never would have ever tried something like that without you and I or us having some sort of talk or discussion, it’s not just something I would do, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

” Yes I am ok, I know the more I thought I about it the more I knew it wasn’t you to do something like that”

“I’m sorry, is there anything I can do? I feel bad”

” Well no, according to google it will take time to heal but all should be normal in a few days”

He proceeded to ask me more questions about the timeline and when it started hurting and how                        is it that it didn’t hurt so much until like a day and half later. I said I had no idea but that according to all the stories I read online it was common for the pain not to settle in for a few days.  He deduced that between then and now I had well “used” my anus which probably re-triggered the pain or tear.  I explained how angry I was and how I almost called him in the middle of the night and despite him saying he wished I did I’m glad I didn’t.  I’m glad I calmed down and let cooler heads handle this discussion.   Uncomfortable as it was to have this conversation with a new boyfriend  we were glad that I felt I could.  I ended with the hope that one day this would be a funny story one day which we would laugh at and retell to friends.   By the following week I had already begun to share it with a girlfriend and guy friend.  Her comment was if he were anywhere near full penetration I would have known and my guy friend was just astonished saying “how could you not know????” .  I guess everyone is different but I think because I didn’t have anything to compare it to I wasn’t sure what it was….but I do now.

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Fucking Beer and Coffee #17

Ahh it’s been a while a long while but don’t think I have become this uber well adjusted picket fence pillow princess.  Well PP sounds nice anyway. Usually I find myself here after a major life change breakups, deaths, loss of a pet, new sex or just mood change.

What has happened in my life since we last spoke. I was in a relationship with a WAY to recently divorced man, 6 months, did I learn nothing from F??? This one was all jump into commitment and frankly I have been bit by the commitment bug so I thought. With my friends getting married, having babies and purchasing home with lawns to be cared for I was left thinking, “am I missing something?” So I drank the koolaid yes I jumped into an predoomed relationship, with Jim kids and  grandkids, exes, a family with no boundaries whatsofuckeneva.  I did it. I actually enjoyed the begining I think one of things I loved about him most was his family since mine is fucked up as are most I realize.  His mother she was a gift, a sassy, sex havin, world traveling, f bomb dropping grandma.  I clicked with her immediately. First time I met her was at Thanksgiving, well I met them all that day, I had only met his son before that.  By the end of dinner she was arranging the date to have Xmas at her house and invited me and arranged to have it on a day my family would not be celebrating the holiday.   When Jim returned to the table I said to him “I hoped you planned on inviting me to Xmas because your mother just did”.   I think that’s why it was even more traumatic for me when she died 8 months later.  It reawoke so much pain from losing my brother and in the end of her days they were in the hospital, trachea tube, unable to talk, in comas the only difference is I refused to see my brother like that and never went during that time to the hospital. I only wanted support Jim and it became a point of contention me trying to be his soft place to land and his need to put on a brave face, it was one of last nails in our coffin.  Once he let me in literally I was terrified and reluctant to see his mother in such a frail and dimished state.  Her bubbly, wise crackin, cackling,  warm personality a memory as I watched her slip away.   I had fantasies that if Jim and I married I would be close with her and she would become a mother of sorts to me. I would have liked that although I realized she would have also annoyed me with her proverbial two cents here and there but in that I still love having you in my life sorta way.

The first sign of trouble with Jim was when he wanted to have sex more than I did.  He brought it up but it was only much later did I realize I didn’t want him in the same way or as frequently because he wasn’t doing it for me.  Now he is a good person and I believe has a good heart but there are things he needs to work on as we all do but he at least needs to get started.  At the start of our relationship he was plagued with sexual issues.  He had a hard time getting it up, repeatedly.  I was patient, very patient and understanding and I tried everything to help it along but frankly I couldn’t get that dick up with a crane.  He claimed it was because he was a little intimated by me a total opposite from his uneducated, got knocked up, never worked, housewife laying on the couch watching Montel ex wife.  Who incidentally cheated on him 2x once fucking their neighbor that lived right next door to them. Jim responded by putting up a tall fence and back to business as usual. RED FLAG!!!

Anyway back to to us.  So when it came time to discuss the sex or lack there of or whatever he got very defense and it always became an argument.  I never once complained about his flaccid friend but what I did complain about is that he didn’t make sure I came, that I got off,  and that was building a slow but solid resentment reservoir.   He always wanted to fuck in the morning before work but he got up at 4am and I didn’t have to get up till 630 but I wasn’t going to fall back and asleep.  On occasion it was fine but if I am going to get woken up and be dog ass tired all day then you better make it worth my while and take it to completion…..mine not just yours.

I didn’t want to to have copious amounts of sex time because I wasn’t getting off in the way I needed.  I did on occasion but it was my efforts typically or the use of a toy.  It really wasn’t until the very end literally the week we broke up that the sex got good but by then it was all grudge fucking.   The most difficult part is that EVERY SINGLE time after we had sex and we were laying there panting he would say “that was good wasn’t it”  and I tried everyway to affirm without agreeing because I knew it would end in fight because his ego was so fragile.  I would wait till later to be like “hey I didn’t cum and I really need to when we are making love, you shouldn’t just stop, try using your hand or try…..yadda yadda yadda”  My suggestions changed from time to time but his reply was always the same, he didn’t feel he could because he was afraid  he couldn’t touch me the way he wanted or that I would complain or some other shit that basically made it my fault why I just had a lousy lay.  FUCK YOU JIM and fuck me for putting up with that for any length of time.  FUCK his ego and FUCK his issues and FUCK his weak ass bullshit insecurities WE ALL HAVE THEM but we keep living life rather than fearing it.

We or I should say he dumped me early August I don’t why I held on so long partly the reliving of my losses when his mom passed, the fake stability he seemed to offer and my want to be a part of a we instead of just me.  Even as fabulous as I am I realize I do not want to be found 7 days after I have died from choking on a kalamatta olive which my face have eaten off my dog.  In this 10 month brutalness I forgot me I forgot to take care of me and put my needs first.  That hasn’t happened to me but the sickness of him mom put me in a place that made it impossible for even a bitch like to me break up or even see I was miserable and hated my life with him. I cried for about a week and then on his birthday but then each day got easier really strangely easier in a rapid amount of time.  I realized this wasn’t really love I was playing house and caretaker for everyone else.  We struggled to remain friends and he made it loud and clear that he didn’t mean it when he said he wanted to still be friendly.  I recently contacted him about his son who reached out to me and out of respect before talking with his son I contacted him to make sure he was ok with it….nothing, no response, to my attempts.  It pissed me off and bothered me that he hadn’t changed and that he was a fake ass bullshitter because he couldn’t be truthful or strong.  I quickly forgot that temporary slip and accepted his path and got back on my own.

I found a nice transitional FWB that treated my vaginal fulfillment like a sport.  Like a sport where you  are watching the MVP on his best day ever, performing with finesse, skill, commitment, passion for the game, and scoring…..repeatedly.

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waiting

waiting

Time to move on…………

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Fucked up but true ass shit/14

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“True Love is one of the rarest jewels of life, treasure it with all your heart. When you find someone who loves you just as you are, is steadfast during moments of stress, willing to grow with you and allows you to feel however you choose to feel in any moment – there is nothing more you will ever find in a person. You’ve found True Love when you feel fear; fear of vulnerability, fear of abandonment and fear of letting go of your own stubborn egoic patterns that keep the real you separate and safe from the other. Trust in love and go towards your fear, taking this leap of faith in every moment is the journey Love requires for its sweet reward.”
– Jackson Kiddard, author & polymath.

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3/7/12 From Hell to Heaven in a day /13

At 4am amid racing thoughts about me, my second time around relationship attempt with F, my estranged relationship with my mother and the journey to really learn how to take risk, open up, be vulnerable to others and to be able to accept the love that others have for me and can and want to give me I went from one extreme to another on this day March 7th, I began the day crying literally sobbing in saddness typing madly on my Blackberry an email to my therapist and ended the day crying with laughter and love typing madly on my laptop a dialogue to my friends……..here are my extremes.

Because I didn’t have a nurturing parent-who hugged, consoled me when I was hurt, in pain or struggling I learned to convince myself that I didn’t need it I probably had to because I wasn’t getting it. Even more so began to believe or tell myself it was weak or pathetic to require such hand holding, or to have such dependency on someone.  Rather because I did it all for myself I thought that’s how it should always be, internal rather than external.  Now dating Fred I’m realizing what I need in a relationship-I need that support, that kind of love, I need to feel watched over, taken care of, protected, helped, and nurtured, I need a safe place to land at the end of the day.  I used to think it was such bullshit when woman needed that because I thought they weren’t independent or self-sufficient, strong, smart, wise or capable if they had to depend on others for strength, happiness, courage or support.
I conditioned myself to be able to go without seeking that, getting that or worse yet conditioned myself to not accept that from people who loved me. I never realized or understood how distant that made me from others and how I was denying myself the opportunity to be loved.  I hope to find a man that holds my heart gently, kindly and lovingly.  Someone who can hold me in their arms when I’m sad and in that moment make me feel safe.  I once remember us talking about me having to self sooth while in my last relationship. I think what know now is that I am capable of it, I’ve done it my entire life no one has ever whisked me up in their arms or come to my rescue during a weak or hard or scary moment.   I can do it but I’m so fucking tired of doing it, I’m tired of taking care of everything myself and not having that partner in my corner who is there when I need them.  I’m not blaming all past loves, on some levels they may have not been capable themselves of giving it to me but I never allowed them to love me like this either.


I think about when you said we are the little girl in relationships that hurt vulnerable scared child that craves what our hot shot competent take no prisoners alter adult ego does not.  I’ve never really acknowledged the little girl in me, I ignored her and didn’t pay attention to her just as my mother did. I denied her needs to basically make it through the day, for the past 20 something years.
She deserves to have her needs met just as I deserved as a child, just because she never had that doesn’t have to mean she never can.  She doesn’t have to take care of herself all by herself all the time, she doesn’t have to take care or her older siblings, she doesn’t have to keep everyone in line, be the voice of reason or set the family straight.   She has a right to be cared for and to feel like the little sister not the oldest sister or person in charge of everything.  She doesn’t have to always be the one to get the group gift, cook the dinner, make the phone call, send the text and she can feel ok about that knowing that she deserves to be important enough to someone else instead to receive all those things from them.

INSERT HEAVY HEARTED DAY WHERE MY EMOTIONS WERE BARELY UNDER THE SURFACE AND I WAS JUST A MESS IN GENERAL LEADING ME TO THE END OF MY DAY WHEN THINGS BEGAN TO TURN AROUND.

This email was entitled  Why Teaching Makes me Happy:

I’m going on my 4th hour of straight testing, stuck in my cave office, pounding headache mostly because when the kids read aloud they feel the need to read as though they are in a wind tunnel, or as I type this a student is going on 30 min of humming the “Star Wars” theme. Regardless I as always have another conversation that will bring a smile to your face I know it did mine.

L: Ms A, you know who’s awesome?

Me: Who?

L: You! try and remember that ok?

Me: Yeah thanks Leo (smiling big)

L: You should say it to yourself in the morning everyday don’t forget it (as he winks and points his finger at me)

Me: (Laughing)–Yes that’s a great idea I should do that more often, I will try

L: I’m just saying maybe make it your ringtone, if you think about it

Me:(Laughing harder) –I can’t think of a better idea, thank you Leo that’s really nice of you to say you have made my day for sure

L:Yeeeeah, I like giving compliments to my teachers, makes me feel all warm and tingly kinda like under my ribs

Me: That’s an interesting reaction, I can see that you enjoy making people feel good, we are lucky to have you as our student I’m really gonna miss you next year

L: Yeah……(short silence)………I’ll come visit, hey did you know I’m really good at those “that’s what she said jokes?”

Me: Great but maybe those aren’t appropriate for school but I will look forward to your visits, but I really need you to focus and get back to work now

L: Easy peasey lemon squeezy

3 min of Silence he works on a couple questions and suddenly speaks up again

L: I like you

Me: laughing to the point now where I begin to cry THANK YOU L! Thank you so much for telling me that it really makes me feel good about being your teacher. (I have to take off my glasses and wipe my eyes)

L: Hey what does optimistic mean?

Me: It means having a good attitude, so if your are having a bad day you can think “tomorrow is gonna be much better”

L: Oooooh like you do??

Me: I try (laughing harder to the point I start coughing) to which Leo pats me on the back and says……

wait for it …….wait for it…… “GO AHEAD SISTA, LET IT ALLLLLLL OUT”

Me: L you rock!!!

L: Awwww Ms. A I’m flattered to get a compliment from a woman like you-Zing! right in the heart.

Later he proceeds to burp recalling the taste of chips from his lunch…..ahhhhhhh what more could I hope for today!!!! : )

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I’m What Willis Was Talkin ‘Bout/12

So I find myself writing after much time off.   Some significant changes and some small changes have occured since  my last post some other things have, I guess in some small ways remained the same.   That should give me comfort but not always.  Since last posting the following has happened.

1. I moved out from living with my ex who I lived with for exactly one year after our breakup.  The fighting was becoming too much.  I was disliking who I was becoming and hating her for who she was.

2. The last week under the same roof when we finally began talking, at times even laughing and trying to be civil and remember we were friends I pulled out of my garage and smashed my car into hers.  I swear it was an accident.  I sat on the wet pavement in the driveway and cried for 15 minutes. 

3. I grew a closer friendship with my other ex  “F” the first guy I dated after K.   He is still in my life and an important part of it , we have been a good support for each other and great fun. He is my confidant and at times my advisor,  we tell each other everything I mean everything.  We should probably have more filters but we don’t.  As I type I’m awaiting to hear how his date went tonight, I’m a bit embarassed to admit I  feel some jealously.

4. My good friend and strongest bad ass woman I know was diagnosed with breast cancer. Within a week of that diagnosis she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Cancer which had spread to her lungs, spine, liver, both breasts and ribs.  As I write this she is in chemo and radiation.   She just shaved her hair completely off 2 days ago-she is the most beautiful person I have ever seen.  So vulnerable and strong at the same time I want to hug her and worship her simultaneously.

5. I have joined just about every dating site there is to join eharm, match, POF, yadda yadda in hopes of moving forward finding my Mr Oh so perfect for me. I have gotten various requests asking if I was DTF -Down To Fuck or nut cases with little to say and less of a brain to know when not to speak at all.

6. I have been forced to reorganize my finances now that I am living alone again. Easier said than done sometimes.

7. I have seen and met with girlfriends in different stages of their lives-a newly expectant mother, an engaged bride to be, a newly rejuvenated 40 something opening up for the first time in her life to love and letting her walls down, an intelligent woman on the cusp of a life altering moment of deciding when enough is enough with her currently married boyfriend.  I love them all I am grateful for their friendship. They force me to reflect on my life.

Since 2009 December has sucked for me, one year the death of my brother, the next the break up of my relationship, and now moving from a place I had lived for the past 8 years. I spent my holiday battling my family my mother mostly and then escaped to “F’s”  house where I finally felt relaxed.

As always I excel at work, really do well, overachieve, outperform, get the job done and make it happen.  However I have recently begun to feel like this is not translating to my personal life.  Well it never has this isnt new.  I entertain fantasies of running away to France, sitting at cafes smoking and awaiting a man that allows me to play the role of a mistress in his life.  A role that leaves us fulfilled temporarily while we are together but allows me the detachment I seem to always need and live in.  

I feel lost, I feel underwelmed and it has hit me so sudden.  The routines of daily life are boring me, I feel stagnant, I feel repetative.  I feel like other people are on fast forward or at least play but for a while I have been hitting the rewind button.  I read books, I try meditation, I “think positive thoughts” but as I sit here I feel like nothing is changing. 

I’m restarting therapy tomorrow and the thought of discussing my friend who has Cancer leaves me unsettled. I am not looking forward to revisiting the idea of loss.  I have barely started putting myself back together from the past 2 years and when I think of her I begin to unravel again.  Everything else becomes an augmented verision of loss even when its no where near a death. I  just can’t keep losing, I need stability, I need a guarantee, I need consistency.  This is so unfathomable to a person who never remained still, who ran from conformity, who wanted nothing to do with commitment and kids.   I have happiness, guilt, love, care, aggravation, disappointment, fun, carefree, heavy and guarded.  What do I want? wants and needs, just when I’m absolutely sure it changes or I realize indeed what I thought I needed or wanted was neither. 

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12/ 19/11 “To Catch a Predator” gets you Christmas Cunnilingus /11

So match.com which I am now on a break from I get an email well really a mismatched response to my “date spark”. A date spark is an idea you have for a date, it’s attached to your profile and it’s sort of an ice breaker if someone wants to talk to you but no one uses it like this. Especially Arrested. I’ll call him Arrested because our first conversation was solidified buy our twisted senses of humor and our love for Arrested Development.

He responded despite the fact that he lives in Texas to my “date spark” my date spark is to go to the contemporary art museum in the city and his response to it was “good kissers are so hard to find.”  I NEVER respond to out of towners they annoy me because I think I’m not in the same town WHY WHY WHY do you write? I usually delete, I usually ignore but NOOOOOOOO not this time and the result was 6 orgasms.

After literally 1 email we were on the phone ripping on each other, talking about our favorite shows and spinning an analogy that had me as Charlie collecting a GOLD TICKET and him as Willy Wonka offering to redeem it for outstanding make out session.  The conversation flowed; we practically stepped on each other  finishing  each other’s sentences, punch lines, dirty comments, smartass remarks and weird vocabulary. To say we were in sync is an understatement. He offered well…..anything I wanted. He was originally from Chicago and was coming to visit family for Xmas, he missed Chicago and all the food it has to offer such as Lou Malnattis pizza and Portillos.  We joked he would show up with a pizza, we’d drink some beer, watch some Arrested or Sunny in Philadelphia and make the fuck out all night and if it lead to something else such as me getting great oral—so be it …..it was all up to me.

Hmmmmmm let me get this right, you are basically telling me you will come over and go down on me? Yep.  Who would turn this down? Probably most people since this person essentially was a total stranger, every once in a while that would creep back into my head and give me some hesitation but I felt like I knew him, after all the late night talks till 3am and sometimes very very flirty borderline sexual conversation I felt like I knew him and could possibly accept this Christmas Cunnilingus.  I mean if someone offers to come over and service you, well  damit you give it some consideration……right?  It was like a romantic comedy without all the bullshit, I mean, yes, it is easier for woman to get sex than perhaps men but I’ve never had someone so brazen and so directly tell me in 15 different ways that they would eat my cookie repeatedly.  It became a joke where I would repeat it back saying I was having trouble reading between the lines.

He was my Santa willing to go South. He was funny, charming, direct, bold, a potty mouth, a twisted little shit that could banter with me to the wee hours of the morning, make me laugh, make me think, and dare I say call my ass out. All three which act as aphrodisiacs for me in fact it’s like the trifecta. I was curious, I was intrigued, I only maintained a slight hesitation, I was very bluntly turned on he knew it and I knew it I was the only one pretending to be coy.

Eventually that night came it was the Monday after Xmas we made plans for him to come over I gotta say the anticipation was killing me. He stopped to get a pizza which I thought was for us but he had eaten pizza earlier with his family and so got a delivery from a guy that was coming over to go down on me and fuck me…..it was like a porno except before I got to sucking him off we cuddled up on the couch and watched TV for a while.  He did everything he could to make me feel comfortable and stating “don’t ever do this with anyone else but me, you couldn’t and I don’t recommend it.”  He offered to give me his mother’s address and even call her, or call my friend and give him info to know that I was safe.  He was harmless he was another horny man who wanted to get some…

Getting back to the TV,  here is where it gets interesting, originally we spoke about watching Sunny in Philadelphia and laugh our asses off but as I flipped through the channels I was more excited to see a marathon of “To Catch a Predator” with Chris Hanson.  When this show was on I watched it faithfully, I watched it on the phone with my friend Joe who lived in CT as we gave each other play by play commentary. I mean this show was like the Superbowl to me! and Arrested was in hook line and sinker, of course great minds right?

We snuggled up, YES snuggled up and watched pedophile after pedophile get “trapped” by the undercover cop that looked like a preteen with a chipmunk voice. We sat on edge as we watched for Chris Hanson to emerge from behind that curtain like Johnny Carson ready to deliver a monologue and welcome us to tonight’s show. We laughed and commented and somehow were still shocked at what we saw even though we had seen most of them.

Eventually our cuddle led to us laying down and spooning and during commercials we made out and then returned to the stories of the perverts. We wanted to have sex but we also wanted to watch this show. After one long series of commercials our makeout session got hotter and we began fondling each other and my blouse was unbuttoned and my bra undone as he teased and aroused my nipples we heard Chris Hanson say “but the transcript says you wanted to bend him over and FUCK him up the ass”.  He literally spit out my tit and began laughing, we couldn’t keep doing this it was entertaining but beginning to kill the mood.   We decided to switch shows.

After one episode of Sunny we were on our way to my bedroom. We had already spoken a bit about some of our preferences in bed but his direct nature and take charge attitude left nothing at all to chance.  He was assertive and aggressive but still collaborative closely incorporating my wants and desires by asking me or by responding to the reactions I was having. He talked dirty—*sigh* this is something I like, it’s rare but it works for me, he was directive, inquisitive and dirty in conversation.   Again THIS WORKS FOR ME.  It was a perfect combination of what I had been needing and wanting.  He was particularly masterful at oral really getting directly to the source and repeatedly getting me off.  I helped and participated, my body literally tensed up, trembled, shook and spasmed …..repeatedly, but he never stopped I had to push his head up and away when I couldn’t take anymore.  There was no zone that went unattended when he asked how I wanted it I told him from behind and he immediately moved into position.  My body responded and as his did his, he slowed down and stopped himself from climaxing too soon to prolong it for me, he continued to please me as before he was ready to resume. The dirty talk was in full swing we were both turned on and ready to climax.  He asked me to let him know when and as he was literally speaking that sentence a loud I began to cum and moan loudly and so did he. He immediately went down again and I almost snapped my neck arching my back so hard.  I was breathing hard, relaxed but jumpy to the touch and uber sensitive like pins and needles were all over my body.

We laid in bed talked, told each other stories, I scratched his back and drank water.  We laughed at what he was going to tell his parents as he walked in the door at 2:30 am when his Dad asked where he was. We got up after almost an hour and got dressed then moved to the couch again snuggling up and resumed watching To Catch a Predator, he left about a half hour later, I ate the personal pizza he had brought me and watched Chris Hanson question perverts as I giggled at the perversions I had just indulged in.   All I want for Xmas was Casual Cunnilingus and Santa sure delivered.

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12/3/11 WHAT THE FUCK DO MEN WANT?/10

Seriously ?  Dating men is really no easier than woman I don’t know what I thought I remembered.  I take some responsibility and have to remember to think sometimes rather than react or respond from gut which I like and feel comfortable doing. I have to “breathe” pause and evaluate the situation and ask more questions ask the brave questions to get the answers which leave no room for assumptions and if I don’t I have no one to blame but myself for it. So in part I’m not entirely mad at him I’m irritated with myself as well because I know better and I am capable of more. It’s been a precarious few weeks since our break up transitioning to friends was interesting, I mean since K, you would think I would be an expert but going from lovers to BFF is a strange path.

In actuality I had been denying something, denying that my feelings wouldn’t get in the way. It’s different to break up with someone you still like romantically but you know they can’t deliver on what you need and want so you cut your losses and figure ok we can at least be friends cause I like you and you like me and you make me laugh.  The problem is the expectations change and you (I) remain sensitive to the your (our) interactions until those feelings dissipate, you meet someone new or they piss you off. My remedy is well,  I got pissed off, that was my ready set go to spring into friendship.

Throughout our time well at the beginning there was no doubt in my mind he was looking for something more along the lines of a relationship, it was a short time but he was hard core, with what he said, how he felt , the flirting the planning, I mean he wanted to spend Thanksgiving  night pampering ourselves at a hotel in the city-that’s a “we have been dating for a while” activity to me. He asked about religion, if I wanted kids and made a list of all the things he liked about me including the “I believe she would be a kind and caring step parent”. Now come on I couldn’t have to read into this, who fabricates this kind of stuff. Someone wanting to laid or someone having strong feelings for someone? Or both?

I took it hook line and sinker thinking “wow amazing a man who doesn’t play games, a man who lays it all out there, a man I do not need mind reading skills to date. Enter Thanksgiving night by now I had felt him pulling away the small simple things of the everyday set your watch like clockwork never late never forgets “good morning sweetie, honey, baby, blah blah text” the “miss yous” the “hey gorgeous”  and  more direct “your hot” “ I want you” “ best kisser ever” texts. Oh yes ladies these were given multiple times on a daily basis and there was no reason for me to think they were fake and I don’t know that I think that now but when it suddenly chills out you have to wonder.

I have read from some “relationship expert” this is what men do, they back off they pull back, for various reasons and that this is natural and the response that woman have to is to be more available and bend over backwards to maintain the “what once was”-and that’s exactly what I did, therefore according to the experts becoming less appealing because I was no longer mysterious.

I had this discussion with another smart beautiful successful woman, “Gabriela why do I do this?, why do we do this? Why do we then check our phones? Jesus I have a life and pretty great one so why is time stopping for a text?”  The only conclusion I can draw is because we all want to be loved and appreciated, that’s a pretty good reason to act a fool but unfortunately some relationships do not recover from such mistakes.  So even though I asked “is everything ok?, are you mad at me?” that did not trigger him to reveal more about what he was thinking and feeling. According to the expert this is the “hallmark error” woman make.

It wasn’t until after Thanksgiving night when I felt some distance between us in actual real time rather than over text that I got brave and asked more specific questions.  The next day I asked him to be honest and confronted him about his feelings changing and he responded, well kinda.  “I guess I’m a little, well a lot guarded these days and I have a hard time getting into and staying in a serious relationship. It sucks I know, you are a wonderful person but we might be on different timetables as afar as relationships go”.

Different time table?  Now this could be interpreted in a number of ways:

1)I’m in the process of trying to end a 12 year marriage and fighting for custody so my priorities lady are somewhere else  aka  I like you but bad timing

2) I liked you a lot and now that we slept together I still like you but I’m not chasing you as I was before and frankly that’s what I like

3) I’m really only available for something light and easy a kinda FWB situation because I can’t even imagine getting into something serious right now

4) It’s time for me to sow my wild outs and spread my seed I’m free for the first time in 12 years well almost free and I need to explore that.

5) Thanks we are done but you’re awesome, high five babes

What I chose to interpret it as was “I can’t give you what you want because I’m not ready and I’m not in any position to get serious with anyone” with a dash of “I want something light, easy and unattached” this allowed him to still look favorable in my eyes and not at fault of anything and probably stroked my ego too.

So with that interpretation in mind I broke up with him. I first told him all the wonderful things about him that I adored and liked and then I offered my friendship. He said nice things back and accepted my friendship. Easy peasy right? Eh not so much, we talked about hanging out as friends and did once the day after I broke up with him where he proceeded to get faced and I became the babysitter (this shoulda been my first second or third warning) but noooo I gave more I drove him home, I took care of him, I cooked him breakfast, I told him I worried about him and he passed out on the toilet for about an hour. He did finally come out when I said I was leaving and hugged me and thanked me and then tried to kiss me but I didn’t kiss him back. I hugged him and left.

I have no idea, most woman would have run for the hills and considered him too damaged to like or love or date. I liked that he put all of his baggage up front, the divorce , the custody, the lawyers, the depression he has struggled with and goes to therapy for weekly, the medication he takes to control the depression, the ex, the back and forth between the homes. All of that, I accepted him where he was at, for who he was, a lesson learned from my last relationship but doing that does not a bond create.

We had an interesting conversation about what he wanted or more so he kept asking me WHAT I THOUGHT he wanted and I just always said I had no idea and that I had been wrong on all accounts so I threw the question back at him which he never answered he only told me what his therapist thought:  that he was unable of accepting outside validation and was trying to replace the whole his mom had left with him. Seems cliché doesn’t it? I mean we can only blame our parents for our problems for so long before we take over and do something about it. I’m not trying to judge him only reflecting on my path with my mother.  He was slippery when I tried to pin him down on if he thought his therapist was right or what it was that he was looking for. As I have communicated more and more with him I notice he hides, he never answers those questions or acknowledges those comments that he feels uncomfortable addressing. I thought I was good using humor to deflect vulnerability he is an expert and he becomes a hard of hearing, visually impaired mute. I know another read flag that he doesn’t get serious (he admits) and maybe isn’t emotionally ready for some things.

I guess that is how he feels, I don’t know, I just know that he ignores those questions/texts but comments on the text right before it and right after it, conveniently.  I have put him on the hot seat before and go back and grill grill grill reasking the question till he answers but I neither have the time, patience or energy to do so. I did it for a year and a half with K when I dated her.

I had romantic feelings for him probably up until last night when this conversation took place and I thought “what are you doing? Why are you holding on to feelings for this guy”

Last night we were texting and he was complaining about Match.com as we do and I said “don’t worry you’ll find your friend with benefits tomorrow”  “I don’t want a FWB why do you say that? “  “cause it seems liked that from many of our conversations, interactions and comments in fact it was the reason I thought we should stop seeing each other because that’s what I thought you wanted”.  My assumptions were obviously wrong but then he made no attempt to clarify or communicate what indeed he was looking for. For some reason this made me mad, he has been pushing me to give a younger guy a chance and encouraging a FWB situation for me and I was letting that influence me and perhaps convince me to accept something less that what I wanted. Ultimately it is my choice and I can hardly blame him nor can I say he manipulated me but I let myself get caught up in that and adjusted for a guy-stupid.  I’m learning I’ve gone from one end of the spectrum to another. Never compromising or giving in to someone else’s needs to being overly accommodating.  So as with everything in life it is a readjustment and a learning process and this morning I woke up with a whole other attitude and I was really feeling myself today –got dressed up and walked with a spring in my step today with a I’m funny and darnit people like me attitude. Bottom line is I have much to learn and a lot of room to grow but I accept myself where I am at. The fact is with all that I have been through the past 2 years I’m more open that I have ever been and putting myself and my heart out there I realize well at times it just won’t work out as I hoped, I’ve only learned that I control far less than I thought in the past and my commitment is only to follow my karmic destiny or hero’s journey or whatever the new age phrase of the day it.  I’m in.

Update 12/31/11

We have actually transitioned to friends spent time together hanging out even on Xmas night and exchanging gifts. We talk the next morning he sits and drinks coffee I challenge his caveman ideas about relationships and woman and we talk about everything and anything. We laugh, we questions, we challenge, we ponder, we share about why we are the way we are, we reveal a little bit about ourselves as friends do when they trust each other and are building a friendship. He confide my fears although he already knows most of them and vice versa. We talk about our dates we bitch about our families. We support each other and remind each other that it’s ok to be him and ok to me and we are in our respective places /stages in life for a reason and we learn each and every day. I get mad at him sometimes and he apologizes, I get on my soapbox and he tells me I’m nuts but it works.  At first when I saw how much he drank I worried and thought I met him to be in his life as a friend but I needed a friend like him just as much. I am grateful we are here and while I figure out what life holds for me from here on out I have someone who can really relate.

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12.1.11 Ready or Not Here I Come/9

Hmmmm well just when you think you have a firm grasp on something it slowly and quietly begins to unravel from your hands.  The reason you held it so tight in the first place is because as it gets away from you it becomes messy.  Messy, hard to control, hard to compartmentalize, distance yourself or worse yet protect yourself from. This is what December is for me. All the clichés of people sad around the holidays, all the statistics we hear about suicides, divorces, family violence…Merry Fucking Christmas right?

The little hole in my heart is from losing my best friend 2 years ago and being so blind with grief that I did not even see, experience, acknowledge, process or so much as sniff, lick or suck the grief. I mean it was non existent but yet so present and obvious in my face, my life.  It weighed me down like some suit that’s too big for you.

2 years ago my brother died but even that is so fucked up because the truth of the matter was we decided to take him off of the life support he was on that was keeping him alive.  I got a call from my sister asking me what I wanted to do. My mother wanted to have everyone’s input before removing him from the machines that were keeping him alive.  So everyone was already there at the hospital except me so basically I was like the 12 juror deciding my brothers fate, fucked up huh? I even remember saying “What? so I’m making the call my vote is the deciding factor? This isn’t god damn Survivor.”    “No No it’s not like that, mom just wanted everyone to be ok with it and be able to say for themselves.”  I was quiet for a moment then blurted out a string of question in one breath ” What are the chances of him recovering? What did the doctors say? How long has he been breathing assisted? Are there any signs of brain activity?”  “What about?”  “What if ?” “How come ?”

Her answers grazed over my head, they flew by at first but slowly suspended themselves  in air waiting to be popped like balloons.  “If that’s what is best maybe we should do this for him, he might not ever be the same” he would have hated that. The truth of the matter is my brother was never the same after being diagnosed with diabetes and as his illness got worse he died a little with each rush to the hospital and with each near miss of falling into a diabetic coma.  Every time I was called in the middle of the night to come to the hospital because they thought this was it and he might not come back, I died a little too.  The person who was my constant friend, defender, protector, comic relief, musical sherpa, world guru was slipping away, slipping through my fingers with each hospitalization.

I snap back to the conversation with my sister my arm is tired from holding the phone that feels heavy and I feel like I have sitting like this for hours.

“Yeah ok do it” I whispered.  “Do you want us to wait for you?” “Are you coming?”   “NO, no I don’t want to see that, I don’t want to see him like this, it’s not him, not my brother, why the fuck is she asking me this? what the fuck???”

It probably seems completely strange that I wasn’t there at the hospital with my family waiting for my brother to die but to me it seems completely fucked up to be there waiting with my family for my brother to die.  I loved him more than anyone else in my family and he was the one leaving, if it were another family member and he was there waiting I would have gone but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it because my immediate family were the last people I wanted to be with, their madness, shitty ass attitudes, greed, anger and pettiness was something my brother and I loathed. There was a reason why he and I kept our distance from the rest of our family and maintained a relationship outside of my mother’s house, cause they are nuts.

This pissed almost my entire family off including my brother in-laws but it was my choice and my decision to not be there but it doesn’t mean I loved him less and that I wasn’t pained by the loss.  My sister and her husband had everyone back at their house for dinner they were the only ones who talked to me well and my nieces their two daughters. The tension was enough to choke on with each bite of bread while we ate dinner. I could feel how angry and disapproving my mother was about me not coming but honestly I think she thought I should have been there for her. That looney toon has a way of stealing the thunder and attention from even a someone dead or dying. I already witnessed this at my Dads wake.

When everyone cleared out only I remained sitting at my sisters kitchen table and that’s when her and my brother-in-law told me how they felt about me not showing up. I appreciated that they had the balls, respect and integrity to say it directly to me and I told them I understood but it was my choice to make and for my reasons I made the choice I did and while I respected and understood how they felt to fuckin bad I decide what is best for me.

A week ago it started, the restlessness is that what comes first, it’s like I’m on idle waiting to take off any second but I never do so it feels like a permanent nervous stomach.  Each morning around 2 or 3 I lay in bed wide awake tears streaming from my eyes, mind racing completely still in the dark. The tears just pour, they keep coming streaking from the sides of my eyes into my hair and eventually to my pillow sometimes when I get up there is a weird cry halo but it sorta looks more like wet mickey mouse ears cause it’s really just two puddles on each side of my head.

I’m tired from the lack of sleep, I look worn, I look harsh but I move through my day hiding so I think. My students know it, they see it, they are extra gentle to me on these days, they stop and ask me how I am in a different way from their usual causal “hows it goin Ms. A?”. When they ask these days it’s quiet and there is a pause and sometimes a nod a like “I see your pain, I know your sad, sorry try not to be”  its the weirdest phenomena but it’s true it happens, they have an extra sense that in adults gets dulled, they are connected directly to your heart.  They seem to always know when you are not you, most of the time they don’t want to know why but they stop and they become a little mini caretaker for just a few seconds by the time you realize what they have done they have already walked away.

Sat December 3rd is my brother’s birthday he would have been 53, exactly 1o years older than me I think I’ll start holding my breath now.

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11.24.11 Men vs Woman/7

 Happy Fucking Thanksgiving. Yes the day we hack apart a carcass and serve it up to loved ones….yum. Having turned vegetarian my day consists of sides (ultimately better) and snacking although I have made a tofurky or some sort of other vegetarian roast to compete with the headless bird on the table.

Meat vs substitute. Was that what I was doing that year and half dating K? Just substituting a woman for a role I normally had with a man? Hard to say if I did, I had no idea on any conscious level but from an outsider yes it looks like a quick list of “you were never gay” you just played on our side of the playground awhile. With some lesbians this could get your ass kicked.  God forbid if you even think you might be bisexual then everyone thinks your greedy and just hogging up all the sides for youself cause you can’t decide if you want turkey or not.

I had an eye opening introduction to the gay community . I thought I was so down with it all, you know surrouding myself with lovely handsome, fun, caddy, well dressed gay men as friends. Lesbos are totally different, in fact I didn’t realize that often gay guys and hardcore non fem lezzies tend to not mix. Who knew. I had these discussions with a new friend Meg she lived most of her life as hetero thinking something was wrong with her, that she wasn’t a sexual person or might just go through life feeling “eh” about the current guy she was dating no matter how great they were. Then suddenly she started connecting the dots and found herself.  She is indeed a sexual being when touched by the right sex. GO MEG!  We had great discussions us both having lived a predomindately hetro life and now finding our gay (hers was a true discovery), we talked about how such a marginalized group then turns around and discriminates against their own kind, the labels, the catagories, the judgements.

I look back and no I don’t think I was ever really gay but people needed to catagorize me, they needed to be able to understand it in terms they were familiar with. I was less concerned of being identified as gay, I didn’t feel compelled to jump out of a closet of oppression, it just wasn’t my life, wasn’t my experience as a young adult. For this too I was judged-to really BE gay you must have had to go through that horrible torturous time of discovering your identity as an adolecent and I clearly did not. So yeah I went along with being called gay or a lesbian or whatever because I think it made other people feel comfortable including my partner. I just knew that I at that time in my life, I kissed a girl, and I liked it, simple as that I had no past to figure out, no “a ha” moment, no pain and identity issues from my childhood and no feeling of rejection because I prefered the same gender.  To real gays sometimes not having these experiences is not fair but everyone has their own path.

So fast forward to current time 11.24.11 I have been seeing/dating/fucking/whatevering a guy for the last month. He is funny, weird in a good way, unfiltered to say the least, and in some ways a beautiful mess himself. After our first date we decided to pretty much throw all our cards on the table. He is currently separated going through his second divorce fighting for custody of his two young daughters which they adopted. He has a son in his early twenties from his first marriage when he was very young. At times under the recommendation of his lawyer sleeps in his old house because it might force his ex to resolve matters more quickly if she has to deal with his presence in her space. He has an apartment down the street from his house where his ex lives and his kids go back and forth, he has a bedroom for his oldest son who stays there sometimes and then sometimes at his girlfriends. He’s a caretaker and a half, I like that, I admire that, I respect that.

So fine I think I’ll see your two exs, three kids, two divorces, and raise you with losing my dad, dog and brother all in the same year, putting my dog down because she badly bit the person I was dating resulting in hospitalization, and the person I was dating is the person I currently still live with….YES it’s true I live with my ex, oh and by the way SHE’S A GIRL. Let me know if you have any questions.

More or less that was the text I sent and then I waited holding my breath. The reaction was unexpected he was cool with it, asking great questions, trying to get a feel for what the full picture was.  Holy shit! I thought. After working through some of my details he followed up by telling me one more thing, one thing he says he doesn’t share until the 3rd date but what the hell we are pulling everything out of the closet so he figures let it rip. He tells me he suffers from full blown depression and gets treatment regularly and takes medication for it.

Damn he wins…..I snap back to reality and start firing questions. It is formally diagnosed? Do you ever go off your meds? What’s it like?

He answers everything I ask honestly and openly. I don’t know that this news scared me but I recall for a moment what it was like when K was going through her depression and it was hard, challenging and at times heartbreaking for me for many reasons but I don’t feel compelled to run away or jump ship or slowly stop texting away into obscurity until I officially delete his number.

From the get go I knew he was in therapy he talks about it openly and I thought well shit, good for you, everyone needs therapy been there done that several times it’s the fool who runs from his problems rather than tackles them head on (that was my ex) and not only do I think that’s great, well fuck, it turns me on.  Not the therapy part but the part that he is brave enough to do the work, do the digging and face the music so to speak.

Now what was the chance a person on his second divorce, fighting for custody, dealing with depression, in therapy, who sometimes lives back at his house to pressure his ex to negotiate would meet and ex lesbian still living with her ex (happily), after suffering from intense grief from losing her Dad and her brother and never dealt with it till a year later when she was dumped by her ex shortly after the anniversary of her brothers death and Xmas?

Come On!!! you can’t make this shit up. So I think we both figured fuck it let’s go with it and here I am negotiating my way back in the hetro world recalling why I struggled with dating in the first place. HA!

I over analyze, I over think and for as verbal and confrontational as I am there are just some feelings that you have to pry out of me, he sees this, he saw it almost instantly and told me I had trust issues. Yep he is right I certainly do, he linked them to my mom, yep they certainly are, he linked my strength, lack of need for approval and outspokeness to Dad, yep yep yep.

Whoa I thought it took K a year and a half to realize or see these things in me or herself and then the thought of actually talking about it out loud fucked her up royally.  I’m not trying to diminish her path, she has a quiet strength but dating a bull in a china shop like me pushed her over the edge.

So here I sit thinking what, why, how, when, where about this new guy. Will we be in each others lives long term, short term, as friends, lovers, in a relationship, semi relationship, weird undefined something. Ups and down, misunderstandings, miscommunication, stress from all the shit he is dealing with and going through will impact us and what we do or do not become.  I don’t think, no let me correct myself I’ve never sat in a position like this before with so much unknown before me and so much I cannot control.  THIS IS TOTALLY NOT ME! the only time I’ve experienced it was in travel when I was brave enough to throw all caution to the wind.

I would have never been in a situation like this 5 years ago everything that has happened in my life has brought me where I am at right now which is exactly where I need to be with the person I am supposed to be there with. Funny how life bring you that without fail-K came into my life when I needed someone most and much of what I learned in our failures prepares me for my next journey.

What do I want? sides? turkey? a substitute? a past, a present? a future? Guess time will tell but I’m enjoying him and the experiences we are having and to a small degree, a very small degree some of the uncertainty of it all.

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12/31/10 Therapy Friend or Foe?/5

4:34 am Can’t sleep been going through a lot over the past couple days, months and years. Most recently the end of a relationship that I love dearly with the person I cherish the most. Introspection, improvement and change seem to always come as the result of a struggle, a mistake, pain. I wonder why it can’t be the other way around? Why can’t when you are floating on the air in love, happy, high and fulfilled simultaneously know –I’m fucked up as a result of bullshit in my past, it works it’s way out in my life by me being controlling, cold at times, holding people at bay when I need to let them in, critical of myself and others, and being confrontational, all driven by an underlying fear that I was led to believe I wasn’t worth loving.Therapy is basically shit, painful, hard, soul stomping, heart ripping and one of the most simultaneously abusive inprisonments and liberations at the same time. I say these things because I’ve had a different experiences some easier than others some more difficult but my most recent being the hardest. When I broke up a long term relationship while in my mid 30′s to a man that I was engaged to I sought out therapy to clear my head. When we broke up I wasn’t and didn’t still love him very different from my current split. I wanted to examine patterns in my life that came from my childhood, family and life experiences that may have contributed to the end of that relationship and that would help me in future ones. My therapist was good, very cognitive and a good match for me. He especially knew a lot about family dynamics and I soon realized most of our conversation revolved around that. There were times not many but yes times when I got emotional but not often, it didn’t hurt so much to uncover things like it did this last time.I read once that therapy isn’t therapy if it doesn’t change the brain. Right now my brain is in a state of transformation like one of those make over shows where they grab some woman off the street that has a family, a successful job and a normal life but walks around dressed like she’s homeless. They drag her off to improve on the basics of her, to bring out her strengths, to highlight her advantages, good points and natural beauty. My brain has gotten a new wardrobe.Since K and I have been in the process of this split I have had to rely on friends, I just haven’t had another option. I have spent the last few days crying, sobbing, telling our story to my friends. This would have never happened in the past because I never let others see that side of me, I was never vulnerable with people, I never reached out, asked for help, or leaned on others. People got this impression I’m fine, got it all together, capable of anything, self sufficient, perfect in a way. People generally came to me during those times of crisis to sob or ask for advice or just to have me listen.I was always interested by that idea, I would often hear people say with relief “oh well I’m glad you finally made a mistake or Jeeze it’s nice to know you can’t do everything.” I think when they knew me and eventually I made a mistake or revealed a weakness of mine they found a human component to me and it was although they were suprised. When I was working on a Master’s Degree one of the last instructors we had was hard in every respect but she also brought us together as group like our previous one had not. We all learned a great deal about ourselves and at the end of the term performed an exercise where we left a blank page at our seats and everyone walked around leaving anonymous comments about each other. The one that jumped off the page at me was “it was nice to see your softer side.” Really? Wow, I was begining to see how others perceived me.

I have great friends who know me well and can and have told me things like “you can be intimidating, you’re hard to help at times, you come off really strong.” So these notions are not new to me and in my workplace they have always been qualities that got the job done, made me successful and good at what I do but in a relationship they doom me to fail.

I was always ready for a battle, always, because that’s what I learned-defend, defend, defend, go down fighting. The wonderful person I share my life with isn’t trying to get one over me, she isn’t trying to control me, she doesn’t need to be right so I have to be wrong, she just wanted to love me and I blew it. If I only knew then what I know now.

When in that kind of relationship where someone is always is made to feel like they are wrong  all the time someone else is always right, people get damaged. I held on to that need to be right because that is what I have learned and done my whole life, I thought it was what made me strong, better, capable but it weakened me in such a profound way.

They say we try to “work out” our parent issues in our relationships and sometimes we pick partners subconsiously to do this. I was working out or living out my parent issues but with a person who was nothing like my mother and only wanted to love me. Over the last couple of days I have literally had an emotional growth spurt facing that notion that the constant message I received while growing up was in some way or another a reminder that I wasn’t worth loving. It’s funny because I started to realize why I never let people in and ended many relationships abruptly. I got so overwhelmed emotionally when people offered me such love and kindness during the passing of my father and brother, I didn’t feel I deserved it.

I cried at those moments when people gave so openly and treated me with such heartfelt emotion not because I was sad about my circumstance but because I was so touched and overwhelmed that someone was saying “I’m sorry you are in pain, I care for you and I’m here for you” people were trying to take care of me and I had no idea how to let them. I never had someone do that, I never let someone do that.

Ding!! the bell had finally rung for me I sat with K on the chair yesterday telling her all this, explaining and giving examples of how this filtered out in my life, in our life. I noted my inability to let someone do something for me without doing something back for them, to thank them for helping me or simply for doing their job. It’s weird.

She cried with me as I painfully connected these dots out loud in real time with her, she hugged me and told me I was worth caring for just because I was me. All of this made sense, all of this came together, all of the sudden I was like I need to let people just love me and let them in and love them back, but when I said this to K she cried and said “that’s all I ever wanted, that’s all I ever tried to do, that’s what I have been begging you to let me do all along.”

I wanted to her to try with me, this new me, this me that would finally let her in fully, this new me that didn’t have to hold on to being defensive or in control because she was no longer in that life, no longer a teenager battling that daily, but it was too late. I had hurt her so much she was too afraid to let me show her something different in our relationship, she was afraid to open up. The scar that has left in my heart will be something I carry to the grave with me. I feel such regret, such shame, such sorrow for treating the person I love the most in the world in a way that caused pain.

Her future sister in law wasn’t home for the holidays so we skyed with her. She has had a strained relationship with her father for sometime now and was talking about it when we were all visiting with her online. I wondered as I was listening to her while I was holding back tears  how is it that she isn’t so hardened and damaged that she has pushed away or damaged her relationships due to how her Dad treated her? I felt flushed with shame and embarassment that I had let my issues hurt us and instead of learning to open my heart more to the gift of my girlfriend’s love I hurt it. I suddenly felt guilty, I felt terrible about myself and I wanted more than anything to love K back and give her the relationship she deserved and was looking for.

Last night we spent a good part of our time talking about this and I finally realized she isn’t coming back. She has work to do on herself she has pain to heal from and she has questions to answer on how and why she let herself get lost in our relationship. She has to find out more about losing her voice as a small child because she thought she had to, she thought she had to be a pleaser and never be a burden for fear that her mother would leave like her father did. She carried this notion on into our relationship put me on a pedastel and put me first. She commented at how much her mother and I are alike and how much she needs to please us both but in our relationship it was at price of losing her. In therapy our therapist asked, “M don’t you want a partner that stands up for themselves or says no to you sometimes and I said yes” K heard that but she is still working on it. I never wanted to be over her or more powerful I wanted to stand side by side with her. She gave me that position and never equalized herself with me and with my strong personality and her being so hard on herself if she ever made mistakes it was a hurtful combination.

I realized last night that is more than just trying to tell her or convince her-you watch it will be different, look at me, look what I learned, look what I know, Oh my god, I get it, I get it now, I totally understand what you wanted and needed and were trying to have with me and now I can totally give that to you and I now know deep down inside it was always what I also needed and wanted for my whole life forever I have been waiting for you, for this gift.

I realized that after my egocentric moment of revelation that even though she loves me so much even right now, even though she says she has no idea if it is the right decision for us to break up, even though she has wrestled with the idea of coming back to me that she cannot. I understand that she has a process that she must also go through, she has questions she needs answers to for herself, she has healing to do from pain our relationship has caused and pain that she needs to break up with me. She carries a heavy heart and is so sad, so sad that we are in this spot, so sad that she has to leave, so sad that she can’t trust me, open back up and try the new versions of us that our therapy has given us. So sad that I offered this just now when she had been waiting for it from me for so long.

I told her I love her and I accept where she is and what she needs to do for herself. I understand we will not be fixed and jolly and in love and together again next week trying things again and doing it right but I told her if she ever thought after getting her answers and working through her hurt, if there was a chance she could ever try again I would wait, I would wait for her, I would wait for as long as it take because for me there is no other person, there is no other love of my life, there is no other her.

We try to figure out what this will look like we toy with the crazy idea that she can go on living here and we can evolutionize to a friendship . She doesn’t want to leave her home, her familiar place, her life and what she’s known. Although it would be hard I would make the effort to be there for her as friend and share this space, our home so that she didn’t need to go through all that happens when you move out on top of trying to heal. I offered the extra room and talked about various scenarios of if or how this would work. It’s a incomprehensible idea to anyone reading this and she asked if that wouldn’t be too hard for me, but I would do it, I would do it for her it’s the least I could give her. Since we have never taken the traditional role this would be up to us, our rules, our relationship redefinition, we would lay the foundation for this if this is how we decided to work through our breakup. I hope it can be done I would go through any struggles and hardship and pain on my part to give her that.

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12/31/10 Why the fuck does someone blog all at once/4

If you have read my previous posts you see right now I am at a crossroads. I am at the brink of losing the person I love most, I have had repeated traumas that I did not successfully process or deal with and on the 30th of this month I will be reminded that my brother died and left me with the assholes in my family.

My brother was so damn cool, I worshipped him. He was my protector, my playmate, my mentor, my parent, my friend, my teacher. I was in every essence of the words “Tony’s little sister”.  He was popular and well liked and where ever he went those doors parted for me like the red sea when they knew who I was. He was always in my corner, taught me to question, be strong, debate (in a healthy way) and to never never let my fears keep me from doing anything.

K and I took a break at Thanksgiving to “reset” and start again when she returned things were going really well. God I remembered how beautiful she was in the absolute pure sense of her heart and her person. I felt in love again, I felt loved, I felt a connection that had been eluding us for a while. I felt like we were on our way, working our way back. Then December started and I completely fell apart and the pain and grief and anger about losing Tony scorched and spilled all over my beautiful girl and our happy attempts to rebuild.

December 3rd was his birthday I was begining to feel the pain, the sadness the desperation of realizing he is gone. For a year I buried this, distracted by the anger toward my family who swooped down like vultures once again as they did after my father’s death. Stress, pain, rained down on our loving attempts to care for each other. The following weekend for the first time I visited his grave, I did not go the day of the funeral I delivered the eulogy and left after the mass. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t watch my brother be lowered into a hole in the ground the finality of that makes me sick to my stomach even now. I also wasn’t there when he was taken off of life support I couldn’t do it perhaps for my own selfish reasons of fear and pain but also because my family is incapable of offering each other support in a healthy way and I didn’t feel safe being in a vulnerable place with them.

When my dad had been ill and in the hospital security had to be called to remove one of my siblings who got into a screaming fight with another one of my siblings. All this while my dad was in ICU. Each of them screaming “you leave, no you leave.”  At my funeral home after the arrangements were made for my brother the all familiar process of faking decisions that were already premade by my mother, two of my sisters got in a screaming match about my brother’s money. Ending with my brother in law dragging away one sister, me putting my mom in car as another sister screamed “get a fucking lawyer.”  This funeral home must love us.

For the first time in a year it came spilling out, I fought with K then locked myself in the bathroom and on my hands and knees sobbed, releasing noises like a wounded animal, something non human, tears streamed from my eyes, snot and drool dripped onto the floor as I tugged and pulled at the bathroom mat. I comforted myself against the cold bathroom cabinets burying my face in the corner as I gasped for air between sobs. Whispering Why? Why? Why did you leave me? Why did you give up? I miss you, I love you, I need you, Why?  For a moment I would stop long enough to whisper I fucking hate you for leaving me with these people, I hate you for giving up and not getting yourself well I hate you for leaving me with our crazy family. When I said this I kicked and kicked and kicked the garbage can in the bathroom I kicked that weaved basket to a pulp. My third mantra that I repeated was I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you in the end, I’m sorry you couldn’t hear my voice, I’m sorry that I left you with the crazies of our family with barely a lovable person to sooth you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I let you down. This went on for nearly an hour the next victim of my anger was the towl rack, I ripped it off the wall and smashed it against the counter over and over till it resembled a 60 degree angle.

When I came out I was in such a fucked up spot and wanted K or anybody to take away this pain. When she couldn’t to do that for me I misdirected my anger and pain at her.  Now, she mentioned today that this was not the root of our troubles or downfall we have been struggling before and that led us to counseling, but for me, now in this moment I see the impact it had on my girl and she went from that beautiful pure open soul to scared, sad, protection mode again and all her fears resurfaced and we were back to square one and knocked off the positive track we had been on.

What am I learning? patience, trust and how to let go enough so that she can have what she needs even though in this moment it is so hard for me to step back. I’m so grateful I have so many loving people who in the course of all this trauma have been there for me. I am blessed to be so loved, cared for and understood. I am blessed to be able to share my pain without fear for the first time, I am blessed to hear words of encouragement during such a low time in my life, I am blessed to for the first time show my vulnerability to people who love me, or perhaps even strangers who read this, I am blessed to accept help from those offering it. Even though I’m so scared and don’t know our future she has blessed me with her presence and I accept that in whatever form it comes in my life.

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11/24/11 5 months of healing plus 5 months of living again/6

Who would have thought I would be here finally moving forward in life and………..these were the words I typed 5 months ago and I now return to complete the setences almost 5 months later. The original date that those first words were typed were May 24 2011 today is November 24 2011. I have been having trouble sleeping, I know why, I’m afraid of next month.  Next Sat is my brother’s birthday I will visit his grave and the anniversary date of his death will come and pass again. Last December while my relationship was ending the flood gates open and I finally let our the grief of losing my brother. I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, I feel anxious, anxious about how I will feel and what it will be like to go through December actually feeling something rather than numbing myself and ignoring grief that was pushing its way to the surface.  I find myself in a very different place finally after many fights, yelling matches, tears and frustating conversations K and I find ourselves over each other to the point where we have moved on, become friends, remained roommates and begun dating. Fucking nuts I know.

I couldn’t imagine this day would come but I fantasized about it, our therapist used to tell us about a woman she dated that she then remained roommates and friends with afterward.  We wanted that, perhaps naively but we wanted that. Well maybe I wanted that, K wanted it also but her motivation came from fear of being alone and dealing with depression that’s why she stayed. Perhaps early on I also had my own ulterior motives, I thought we would get back together.

It’s weird but I have never tended to follow a straight line figuratively and literally in this case for mapping out my life.  If I am honest, really honest with myself, I was always still interested in men while with Kari but I also really did love her, her person.  I wasn’t attracted to her because she was a woman it was because of who she was.  So my natural attraction to men was still there, I just wasn’t in love with one. I still flirted, I still communicated with old acquaintances and boyfriends and was dangerously close to crossing a line than I should have been, since I was in a commited relationship.  That should have been a sign, but at that time I was in the habit of ignoring signs and prone to getting lost for those  2 years of my life.

Funny that we should both arrive to a place where we are dating other people. Funny that I am in a place where I am dating men and realizing that is indeed my preference.  They are vastly different, night and day but yet relationships are relationships and those hold similarities. Lesbians jump all in ready or not here I come, your my soulmate, get the UHAUL, let’s adopt more babies then Brad and Angelina. Guys are so not like that, there is a fine dance that over time gets perfected. Does he like me? Is he into me? Will this go anywhere? Will we get serious? Is he the one?  With lesbians they are always the one. I met a few woman after K and I broke up and I was trying to figure out, everything in my life. These woman were nuts, that sounds bad but really they were needy, clingly, too much information, 16 emails a day (not reciprocal ones) just open your email and SLAM 16 emails in a row from a lonely nurse looking to find love. Another intelligent woman a professor at a big university going on and on and on and motherfucking on about how her ex and her best friend cheated on her and she was left to pick up the pieces. I don’t want to diminish the pain or struggles of these people but Jesus aint no way I was stepping up to the plate for a whole lotta drama.  That’s what was out there.  I took a deep breath and quietly retreated to safe daydreams of meeting someone nice, funny, cute with baggage they can compartmentalize at least until after the first few dates for gods sake.

It’s Thanksgiving morning, I saw my best friends last night and laughed and felt loved and part of something good, I woke up today missing my brother so much that I don’t know exactly how to get through the day. I feel like when you lose someone you really love people expect you to be sad and you expect to be sad but I never expected to be sad forever. It’s been 2 years since he passed and I just started acknowledging the grief just last year but it feels like something that will always make me feel so deeply distraught and heartbroken for the rest of my life.

I will have a nice distraction tonight a guy I’m dating, we will hang out, laugh, flirt, watch a movie and I will cook us dinner.  It will be good but Dec 3 is around the corner and the anxiety of feeling that tremendous sense of loss and sadness make me feel overwhelmed, insecure and out of control of my emotions, which we all know doesn’t work well for me….or the people around me.

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12/31/10 I’m gay, let’s go for Thai/3

Coming out was different for me, I’m 42 have a good sense of myself and am confident in who I am. I did not have to face the struggles that young people face when coming out I did not have the fears, insecurity or self doubt. I’m old enough to live my own life and say “fuck you” if you don’t like it get on board or get the hell off.So at 41 I fell in love and started to date a girl. She was and is amazing, breath taking intelligent, beautiful in a gentle non assuming way and wise wise wise. She is quiet, soft, delicious, loving and drinkable. She is and will forever be the love of my life, this is the person I have waited for forever and the person I have hurt the most because my whole life I had to fight and defend myself to survive in my household. It was crush or be crushed any sign on weakness and you were dead in the water. God bless my sister a sensitive type, someone who wears her emotions on her sleeve someone who was an easy target for my mother. When my mother was verbally assaulting her and she saw the crack begin to widen and my sisters eyes fill with tears because she was told she was stupid, worthless and whore or whatever her word of the day was…it was like a predator smelling the scent of their prey. Immediately she would attack my sister and tease her for crying, being weak, stupid and unable to control her emotions. She would tell her she was crazy and needed help because she was nothing more than a big cry baby and that this would be her downfall for the rest of her life and make her unsuccessful in anything she attempted.I watched, observed and quickly learned not to cry, no weakness was shown or I would be in the scope and she would finish me off. No way, my emotion of escape was anger to the 100th degree, stand and fight, be louder, be stronger, push back, say something equally mean or meaner, not go down without a fight, fight, fight, fight. It was how I survived suicide attempts by the age of 12. I knew better than to try again because I was punished severly by my mother when she was aware of the second time. “What are you crazy? now I have to treat you like a fucking baby? watch your every god damn move and babysit you like a kindergardener? Jesus Christ what the hell is matter with you? !SLAP! Why are you making so much work for me? !SLAP!”After finally letting me out of the bathroom I heard her walk casually through the front room and spew with a sigh of exasperation “Your sister tried to kill herself tonight, what to you think of that?” My brother sat on the couch blankly staring ahead at the TV saying nothing. She then arrived to the kitchen and said the same comment to my Dad who said “Oh my god.” That was it. If it wasn’t for my sister L I would have never even seen a doctor about it. She understood that pain, she knew how deep it went and she was the only one to try to take some action.

I anticipated the day I would finally start telling my friends, “I’m in love with a girl.” M and K were the first, then my nieces, then E and D. The funny part is that I did it at the same Thai restaurant each time I was begining to think the waitress would walk up and just say “she gay, I take yur orda?” Each group of friends and loved ones was supportive, happy and could see the pureness of my bliss. It was unmistakenly there I literally was walking on air. M was curious and had lots of questions. L had some of the same questions but was also so excited by the potential of two people she loved and respected so much coming together. As time went on I shared it with more and more of my friends/coworkers.  My bosses know, my immediate friends and people I am close to know, K is a big part of my life.

There were so many amazingly loving, beautiful, deeply connecting moments we shared. There were also struggles that we endured that until recently we didn’t even know or understand that came from both of our childhoods. Now so much later after being in couples counseling for the last couple months we are trying to figure out if there is an “us” left to save. With the knowledge we both gained there is great potential, she discovered her dysfuntions and I jumped into mine head first and tore them open, getting past the anger and justification and arriving to the most painful part of my heart and psyche. So painful that in some moments I felt again that I might not be able to go on and survive the pain of reliving those moments. I’ve never known that there was so much I didn’t deal with, I thought I was past it, but as therapy began I remembered more and more about my childhood, telling K what used to be and what head games I was constantly dodging and trying to be one step ahead of. With each memory I was able to immediately link it back to our relationship. Like why I always needed to be right and why I would debate till end and stand my ground that her sweatshirt wasn’t red but burnt orange.

In the end it doesn’t matter but I was operating as I had as a child and giving in and giving up and being wrong or mistaken had earth shattering repercussions for me. I was no longer needing to defend and stand my ground, K wasn’t against me, she wasn’t going to hurt me, she wasn’t trying to defeat me but I couldn’t break my patterns and in the end it may have cost me the one person who ever really loved me and that I loved so.

We are so different but in some ways that is the beauty of it she provides me with what I will never fully understand or come to on my own. Her perspective, her heart, her smarts continously bring me to better places, she elevates me on every level even when she challenges me to move beyond my limitations. I love her deeply and the thought of us not succeeding and not staying together is beyond heart breaking and terrifying for me. Right now she needs space and time both of which can be a challenge for me because in my household the “silent treatment” meant a week of attacks, snide comments, your wet clothes being yanked out of the dryer and thrown in the driveway, hearing everyone called to the dinner table and invited to eat except you, the silent treatment was hell week. But K isn’t my mother and her quiet time, where she needs to think, regroup, recharge and pull her thoughts together isn’t about punishing me or sending me a message that I’m not loved although I let it trick my head because it triggered the insecurities of my childhood. She’s taking time so that she can be considerate and think about what she needs, what must her next step be. She is literally thoughtful in her process and if I think of it that way I can cherish the idea that she needs that time away from me. I can cherish and respect that she loves and thinks so deeply that rather than be impulsive and reactive she stops and uses her heart and her head together. I told you she is amazing

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12/31/10 I will not submit to the grief/2

My father’s wake, I’m on display, I’m like a host floating through the crowd thanking everyone for coming, shaking hands, getting hugs, kissing cheeks I never stop moving till it’s my turn to stand in the reception line. My sisters and brother in laws and nieces all take place standing there, next to the coffin, watching people pray and cry as they kneel infront of my father. I disconnect, focus on other things, remove myself as far as I can while my body waits to mechanically to say “thank you for coming, yes it is sad, yes he was a great person, thank you.”My friends arrive, one of them L knows me well she leans over and whispers to M “something’s not right, she’s too, she’s too, pulled together, she doesn’t seem like she just lost her dad.” She’s right I do not seem like someone in pain, someone scared, someone lost, someone forced to spend time with a family they are not close to, a family they never feel safe showing vulnerability with.I’m not right and this is just the begining of how fucked up I am about to become, this is the begining of therapists offices, fights with K, hurting her, hurting us and not even knowing it, feeling suicidal, becoming a sort of walking dead, numbing myself and pushing the person who loves me most away. This is the begining of the worst time in my life, for over the next year right after my father’s funeral I will have to put down my dog because she bit the person I am in love with, badly, so badly she is hospitalized,  I will watch my other dog bite and attack my neighbors dog, I will push K away without realizing what I am doing, I will make mistakes and let the dysfunction that I come from hurt our relationship, K will lose her job and I will take part in deciding to remove my brother from life support and let him die.Right now at my Dad’s funeral I’m in survival mode aka not dealing with what’s going on.  No one in my family knows that I’m gay now, not like I’m trying to keep it secret but something about that announcement at a funeral is not right. My oldest sisters watch and notice, they see K and they see me, at this point I haven’t even told my friends yet, we are so new and well they have only known me to date men. My oldest sister appears to figure it out and will eventually tell L the one sister I maintain a relationship with which will then in turn cause her to relentlessly question my nieces -who do know, I told them first.

I’m tired the next day there is a mass he will be cremated so no cemetary, I’m glad.
Everyone rides in the limo, except me I don’t and haven’t for a long time felt part of my family, I tolerate them most of them are well, crazy, damaged and difficult to love and be loved by. My mother has pulled a number on each one of us, she has damaged us so deeply and so darkly, systematically attempting to take all of her kids out at one point.
I hug and kiss my family members at the wake because I have to, others are watching, others expect that cause that’s what families do. I hate it, I feel like a fraud, a liar I hate to be in a position where I have to pretend. I stopped pretending long ago when I broke nearly all ties with them. I ride with K to the church, we meet my family in the front as they exit the limo and we all watch and wait as the coffin is carried out of the hearse.
We follow down the aisle and we file into the first three pews of the church, K is sitting directly behind me one seat back. My family all sits in the first row there is no room for me and I sit in the second pew by myself. My nieces are infront of me and we perodically offer each other support.  My sister N delivers the eulogy she does it in both Spanish and English she does a wonderful job. When she comes back I tell her coldly “good job”.  K says to her “that was beautiful N”.  I can’t connect with her, she did give a beautiful speech but the only thing I can muster is “good job.” We’ve never learned to really love each other, support each other or be there for each other. When my mother was angry with one of us she often tried to pit the others against you as well and if you talked to, helped or were nice to the one in the “doghouse” you might find yourself next.

It’s time to give each other the hand shake the “peace be with you”. I turn around and K embraces me, out of the corner of my eye my friend M who has recently moved back from Mexico comes up and hugs me warmly. I am deeply touched, so appreciative and feel so loved. She found out via our school email that my dad had passed, she immediately left work picked up her husband and they headed out from Forest Park to the southwest side of Chicago, she made it just in time for the mass. I will always remember that gesture of love and it was the thing that finally moved me to tears as I stood in my pew, removed from my Dad, removed from my family, removed from my heart, removed from this moment. I make my way down my pew hugging people in my family, my mother never turns around to be hugged by me and I even tap her shoulder at one point and she distracts herself with my sister.

Later that day at home K’s observations and introduction to my family rolled over me like a boulder. She gave a blow by blow account of the “dysfunctions of your family” talking about how no one comforted my mom or my sister N and the visible seperation between us. The coldness, the tenseness the akwardness was something she witnessed first hand and no amount of preparation even if I had given it to her would have helped her understand it or be prepared for it. Someone who has a relationship a normal one with her family cannot understand it. It wouldn’t be untill much later in our relationship that she would begin to understand it and even be able to explain it to others as I tried to do with friends.  To this day, to this moment as I write this, the night after she has broken up with me, on the brink of her possibly moving out and ending our relationship forever, she is still learning, seeing, hearing and experiencing the profound impacts my childhood has had on me.

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