Turn of events

August 4th, 2008 | Tags: , ,

Over the years, I know that I have become bitter and cynical. I don’t care so much about the plight of man, because all I can seem to focus on is the fact that 95% of the people I encounter are blatently stupid, or otherwise ignorant to their stupidity (only making it worse) making me want to gouge my own eyes out and shove sharp objects in my ears to relieve myself of the hassle of listening to seeing these stupid people in action. The other 5% is spread out amongst those I actually give a shit about (~1%) and those who make me want to go postal on the world (the remaining 4%). I am generally tired, and pissed off all the time. Or at least bitching about those things that piss me off, almost all of the time.

I’m not always a very fun or happy person to be around. Which means I’m not always a fun or happy person to be in a relationship with either. The failure of my past relationships have not always been the fault of the guy… sometimes (and I mean rarely) it was my own fault (kidding about the rarely part).

I remember my early relationships, and I remember being so very carefree and light-hearted. I remember feeling as though the world were at my fingertips, at my disposal, and that there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish. I also remember the devastation that the end of those early relationships caused, and somehow realizing that the world didn’t end when the relationship ended… and my life didn’t end now that some boy was out of it.

As the years went, and relationships came and went, I started to become less enthusiastic… and less devastated. Some relationships were a chore. Others were merely adventures. There were those rare ones that I hoped would turn into the eventual “white fence with 2.5 kids” situation. None of them ever did. One thing was consistent… they never lasted.

The longest relationship I had ever had was the one prior to the boy, or… the ex. It was an off-and-on thing, sure, but even if you put all of the “on” parts together, it was still the longest I had ever been with someone. The desire to have something work, especially when regarding a relationship, seems to get stronger as you get older. At least it has been that way for me. I don’t want to mess around with little boys who just want to get laid. I had my fair share of fun at one point or another, and I’m done. I’m not going to waste my life with that sort of thing.

I also realized a few things over the course of the last few years. You can’t make a person change, even if it’s for the betterment of them, and everyone else. You can’t forcibly bottle everything inside and think the explosion after the fact is okay. I want to have kids, and being with someone who doesn’t want more can very much be a waste of time and effort, as you will never see eye to eye on the topic. Wanting to get married is also something similar… I’m not going to waste my time or life with someone who doesn’t want to get married to me… ever. I also have learned, that I am a jaded and bitter old woman. While I’m attracted to the cute boy, I don’t want to keep the cute boy (who’s too stupid to create a full sentence without some coaxing) around for long… if ever, for that matter.

Despite the way things have been for me in the relationship department, I’ve been… happy with this one. The distance has probably helped to ensure that we’ll make it to the next weekend. We’re definitely given the opportunity to miss the other for the majority of the week. Absense can make the heart grow fonder, but in the case of me and the boy, the extreme absense also make us cranky, pissy, and slightly paranoid. He sometimes imagines that I’m in a “bad mood” even when I’m not. I sometimes imagine that he’s found other more important things, when that’s not necessarily the case.

Through all of it we seem to have a good thing going. He can be very patient with me, and just pointing out that I’m being slightly irrational can quickly bring me back down to earth and out of my “I hate the world and I want everyone to die” moods.

I didn’t think I could ever miss someone so completely that I feel empty when he’s not around. The sadness of having to sleep alone is almost unbearable. Whenever I get home, I hope that he’ll be there, so we can go find some other small adventure, motorcycle ride, drive anywhere… it doesn’t matter. I didn’t think I’d ever miss someone the way I miss him when he has to leave and go home… but I feel like I’m in high school, all over again.

Reactions

June 20th, 2008 | Tags: , ,

When someone is feeling down, or even depressed, I’m never entirely sure how to react. Sometimes what they want is just someone to listen to them bitch. Other times (and these seem to crop up equally as often as the bitch-fest sessions) they want advice as though I’m a therapist.

I also don’t often get to see the boy for more than a day and a half at a time. It just so happens that the distance, gas prices and the ever poorness of a student keeps us from being able to go through the “spend every waking minute together” phase. Most of the time this is okay, but sometimes… sometimes this is very trying. So when the boy offered to drive up to come see me after I had spend the previous day with him, I was very excited. That’s nearly 2 days together (with a work “break” in between)! This was truly a momentous event!

But when he arrived, he was irritated. Angry even. Roommate issues that have been perpetuating over time, and only now does he realize that a lot of those irritations that he’s let slide, are really NOT okay… in anyone’s book. With the introduction of a 3rd person into the household, he’s suddenly starting to realize that roommate #1 takes an awful lot of liberties with other people’s things. Mainly, the boy had his expensive motorcycle riding glasses taken. This did not set the tone for the rest of the night.

I was excited to have him over, but once he had his opportunity to vent, he started getting restless. He wanted to go out. He wanted to go DO something. I was a willing participant, but in this hellhole, there’s not a whole lot available to do in the middle of the week. Instead he got up, made himself some dinner, while I fiddle around with correcting the Elton John songs I downloaded that were mislabeled.

He didn’t sleep well, so when I left this morning for work, I left him there to try to rest some more.

I wish I knew what to do. Or what to say, in situations like that. I guess the only thing I can do is not get upset by the fact that he wasn’t the doting boyfriend he can be, and know that there will often be days just like this. If he can forgive me for my moods (which are often angry ones), I should be able to forget his (which are more depressed).

Hard to believe

June 8th, 2008 | Tags: , ,

It’s strange to me, at times, to think that this boy is the same boy who wrote such things to me. He doesn’t seem to remember those days, as though they were just a figment of his imagination, and they’ve gone away. Or he woke from a dream, and as time passed, he simply forgot the details. Only they weren’t just details. I will always remember them. And a small part of me will always wonder, and often fear, to see or hear those words again.

I wish that I didn’t care for him so much. He’s no longer this boy who seemed so unattainable, not like he once was. He’s very real to me now. I see this different side of him that he wouldn’t let me see before. I’m not sure why, but he’s this real and tangible person whom I adore. I know that we can’t choose whom our hearts have decided to love… and I realize now, after the conversations I’ve had with the ex, as well as with the boy, that this is entirely true. The details don’t matter with either case, but the fact remains… it’s oh so true.

We had the most amazing weekend. Really, we did. But this one was different from last weekend. We talk, daily. As most people who are dating or boyfriend/girlfriend do. We just don’t get to see each other very often. It isn’t feasible for either of us to drive the nearly 50 miles for just a few hours. As much as I would love to, I simply can’t afford the gas. He rode his motorcycle to pick me up, I packed a few things, and went back to his place with him. We watched some UFC fights at the bar and I had fun. It was more fun that I would have thought. 5 of us also had shots, in two different time zones, in two states. And as stupid and cheesy as that sounds, it was the coolest thing ever. Ha! It’s a story I’ll tell people years from now, while sitting at a bar, laughing about those funny things we’ve done in life.

After UFC, I learned something about the boy that I didn’t really expect to find out. It’s something that I believed only the ex ever did. It was something I believed I would never find in another person, ever again. While it’s deeply personal, and even a little bit strange, I’m half tempted to share it anyway, despite the fact that most would be grossed out by it. It doesn’t matter, not really. The details don’t matter. What matters is that it didn’t bother him.

For the first time in my life, someone looked at me, mostly naked, and told me that most guys only get to think about having sex with the beautiful girl… and he was lucky that he got to. There are no words to describe how that makes anyone feel… ever. It can’t ever be recreated, not that moment. It will also be one of those moments I’ll always remember.

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In his own way

March 29th, 2008 | Tags: , , ,

He might not know it, but I can tell he’s trying to reach out. I don’t think he wants to. I don’t think he wants to get attached… in much the same way I don’t want to get attached. For fear of getting hurt.

There is a closeness we share, outside of the bedroom intimacy. There have been times when I almost said those words. Not even thinking about it. Just that they wanted to come out. As though it were the moment I got caught up in, and not because I’m pressured to say them… but because it was what I wanted to say. I want him to know how much he means to me. I want him to know that I’ll be there for him… in the best way that I can. That as long as he has me in his life, I am in his life. I’ll only back down if he asks me to.

And even then, I might consider trying to fight to keep him. Though I doubt I will… cause fighting to keep someone in my life in the past has turned out to be the wrong thing to do.

When he’s in the right mindset. When he’s “on his game” he has a brilliant way with words. We are so different in so many ways. In all of the weird superficial ways that I thought I’d have to find someone similar to me. I find it weird and somewhat amusing. This must be what they mean by opposites attract.

He has some shit he’s going through. He had a lot of shit he’s going through right now. I couldn’t write about it even if I wanted to, because I don’t know what it is. He’s still working through it. He’s still trying to make sense of it before he tells me about it. I’m curious, don’t get me wrong. I’m definitely curious. I’m just not willing to push him into telling me. I’m not going to force him to tell me anything. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me when he’s ready.

Though I know, in his own way, he’s reaching out. I just wish I knew exactly what he wanted me to do.

To be invisible

March 25th, 2008 | Tags: , ,

A lot of the time, I do things just for the sake of… being noticed. The clothes I wear. The style of my hair. The tattoos.

It’s not always about being seen though. Sometimes it’s more than that. Sometimes it’s asking for someone to simply acknowledge my existence. All though high school I was invisible. I remember years later, working at Starbucks, a girl came in. I recognized her immediately. I even remembered her name. She told her friend (who worked at Starbucks as well) that she didn’t remember my name, but remembered that I used to do homework for people and was smart. Apparently, I wasn’t worth knowing, except for the fact that I did people’s homework. Talk about feeling insignificant and invisible.

Every now and again, I almost wish… almost… that I could go back to being somewhat invisible. I go to school, and besides the handful of people I know (including the boy)  I avoid almost everyone else. I don’t want to be noticed. I don’t want to be talked to. I don’t want to be seen. I just want to be invisible.

When I achieve this goal, I don’t always have the satisfaction I should. I mean, I want to not be seen… but at times I want to be heard. It’s hard to be just a voice without a face. I guess I have to learn to take the good with the bad. Or find somewhere in the middle between the two.

It’s only those times, when I want to be seen, when I don’t want to be invisible, that I regret working so hard to not exist. It goes back to the whole “alone” issue. Knowing that most of my life is going to be spent alone. That there are few people who are going to understand me. Fewer still that will accept me as I am. And fewer yet that will bother to take the time to get to know me if they get past the first two obstacles.

I guess for now I’ll accept this role. I’ll cherish the people who seem to give a shit. And I’ll hold onto those who care.

Words of Wisdom

March 24th, 2008 | Tags: , ,

There’s a certain point in life, when everything changes. When the whole world seems to flip over on end, and then somehow it rights itself. Then everything that once didn’t make sense, suddenly seems to make sense. Usually in my life, this trigger is an event. Something happens to me. Someone leaves. Someone enters. Something changes, and I reflect on the lesson I needed or at least should have learned.

This time it’s different. This time it’s not because of him that I’m doing this massive overhaul of… well, myself. He’s definitely a part of it. He’s the catalyst. But it’s not because he’s leaving. It’s not because he’s entering. It’s because he is who he is, and he holds nothing back when he’s curious to know me. He asks questions that people don’t tend to ask, and I answer them willingly. He probes and prods and I let him, because there’s this deeper connection that the two of us seem to share. It makes no sense. I can’t make sense of it, no matter how hard I try. No matter how many people I talk to, I just can’t seem to understand what he is, and what’s he’s given me. I doubt that I’ll ever find the words.

I’m not sure the measure of our current relationship. I don’t know what title we hold, if any. I don’t know where we stand in the grand scheme of things, and it’s okay. We’re trying to take it slow. We’re trying to make sure that there are no huge surprises. We’re being honest with each other, and enjoy each other’s company in the meantime. Despite the amount of time I do get to spend with him, it never seems to be enough. I never have enough time to talk to him. I never have enough time to answer all of his questions. We can spend hours on the phone, talking. Or hours on the yahoo, chatting. And there never seems to be enough time. I can’t get enough of him, in more ways than just the physical. I just want to be near him, touch him, talk to him, hear him all the time. It seems pathetic, to feel this strongly for a person that, in reality, I hardly know.

He’s opened my eyes, to aspects of my past, that I didn’t realize were truths. That’s not to say that I would never have realized them. I might have. He’s just made me face some things. Particularly with regard to my past relationships.

He compliments me, constantly. If it were anyone else I might ask them to stop, because it seems over-the-top. Sometimes even excessive. He tells me that I’m intelligent, beyond my years. Beyond most people. He is of the opinion that I’m more intelligent than he is. Than most. He is also in the habit of telling me how beautiful I am. Pointing out parts of my physical body that he adores. He tells me that I have this intense energy and focus, almost all the time. That when I set my mind to something, I stop at nothing until I have, or achieve, whatever it is. Really, he’s telling me nothing I haven’t heard before, from various people, over the years, again and again. He asked, “Why is it different when I say them?” At first I could only say, “I don’t think I know.” As I stared into the mostly empty field next to my apartment, the answer came to me. I fought the tears as I realized exactly why his compliments are different than everyone else’s.

No one wants to believe they were insignificant. No one wants to admit that they meant little to the person they spent so much time with, or even lived with. No one wants to face the fact that maybe… just maybe… you were temporary. The great epiphany involved my realizing that in all of my past relationships, even the would-be relationships, I was merely an escape. I was their adventure. I was this different, unique, interesting girl who came along and caused a whirlwind of emotion. I was crazy, zany, intense, weird… different. I was never the long-term girl. I was never meant to be with any of them forever.

The difference with him… and why his words touch me so much more… is that I’m not his escape, nor am I his adventure.

Of course I don’t want to lose him. Not now. Not that I’ve finally found him.

It was a night full of realizations. It was a night of self-discovery. Prompting a need and a desire to spend some time alone, with a notebook, with my computer, with some ability to write… because I have some soul searching to do. I have some truths to discovery for myself. Later in the night, I told him that in the short time we’ve known each other he has taken the opportunity to get to know me better than my ex ever did, in three years. I explained that it was a foreign experience for me and I’m not used to it.

“Just because you’re not used to it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

What could I do at this point, but cry. Nothing. So I cried.

And now… I search my soul for the answers… and hope that I never lose this boy… he’s changed my life for the better…