Fork in the Road, Spoon in the Sky...Plate is Home

Another day... another new adult problem (so seemingly problem).

I realize I have gotten ahead of myself here. Posting about this affection I am giving to a man (I would say another, but that would imply I have one currently... and I don't. Unless you count the one I have been talking about and well that is really complicated and far away and *breathe*).... Yeah, emotional/mental circle there.

I guess this is where I tell what's going on.

Part of me doesn't want to tell... I mean, talking about it makes it real (more real?), and I am really enjoying the slightly intangible quality this has.

But I guess I really do owe all you faithful readers (I was very popular is Malaysia this past week).

I can really only speak on my side of things... After all this is all about me and my life all the time (at least @ GFY).

The Start

I guess, in true definition this all started way back when I lived in New Mexico. Which now, that feels like a zillion years ago... back when I was like 21/22/23... early twenties. Fresh off the crushing heartbreak of my Ex-Fiancee. I can fully admit now, New Mexico was a way to avoid him and anything related to him. But that is so far back in my past (to me) and it is pulling me away from the story at hand.

So, in New Mexico we met. No lie, I was immediately attracted to him... but somehow things kept happening to where there was someone between me and him. Primarily his sketch neighbor(s) who seriously thought I was "after them" and wanted to "be with them" ... misunderstanding is an understatement for that situation. I can say that said neighbors did not take the news well (at all) when I politely told them that I wanted nothing to do with either of them, ever and to kindly remove all of their belonging from my residence. In having this conversation, MKSA (My Knight in Shining Armor) heard what was happening and came to my aide. The long and short of it... MKSA took a punch to the face for me, to protect me (I was somehow able to stand prepared to take the hit myself unflinchingly-- a moment that still amazes me).

I would say it was specifically this that won my heart, and in a way it was-- to this day no man (or boy) has defended my honor and protected me like that-- but there was more to it. The "more" was him... I adored his patchwork of tattoos, his languid lanky ways and his blue eyes, which depending on the scene would be bright sky blue to the blue-green of sea-glass... Yes, I realize all that is physical. But that's what go my attention. After getting to know him (which started with buying him a couple of beers for taking a hit), I knew what everyone else didn't, he was a smart guy (it was a very common assumption that he was not smart-- which was mostly an act, and/or refusal to actually correct anyone otherwise), and a really caring guy (it was another common assumption that he was notoriously selfish-- not at all). I could keep going... but, why? It's not like you know him. But you get the picture now... tattoo'd good-looking-smart-caring guy.

Skip ahead past the friendly getting to know you bit, and jump to the part where we started dating.

I don't remember exactly how it started... I wish I could and I hope the memory resurfaces again. But he asked me out on a date, a real date. I remember it was back when I worked for the Sangre de Cristo Chronicle. And I had an assignment to do on the Holiday Festivus (aka Christmas Extravaganza). I don't remember what night it was... But we went over the mountain, and it was starting to snow, just a little. And we were in his vehicle (a Jeep something or another), and he was driving. We had the music on, and he held my hand most of the drive there... And well, I seriously am a sucker for hand holding. I find immense comfort in holding the hand of one I am with, sweaty palms and all (not my favorite part, but hazard of young love). I can still remember how his hand felt in mine. He had rough palms and the pads of his fingers were slightly callused. I remember how that felt across the top of my hand the way his thumb brushed mine. (AND NO, I am not making this up... I have way more important shit to be doing that make up fake poetic waxings).

We went to dinner and heard some band play, we had a few drinks (we both shared a love for whiskey, which I've since changed to Vodka... but am considering switching back....). And we stepped out of the restaurant into the cool November air and these tiny little flakes were falling from the sky, not sticking... it still wasn't quite cold enough for that. And we saw the downtown square light up in it's Xmas glory with the plywood cut outs and strings of lights... We wandered over so I could take pictures (after a few drinks, Xmas lights look amazing, try to tell me different.) and we saw this little herd of deer wandering around the square, totally unafraid of me and my cohort and camera.

I remember the soft shadows the combination of lights and moon created, I remember his hand in mine and his arms around my waist. I remember the quite of the night except faint wind bring the music from the saloon (yes the saloon, you have to have been there) and the breathing of deer and muffled sounds of their hooves.

This night stands out so clear in my memory, if I concentrate on it hard enough I can feel the cold and smell the pine. It is like it was just a few days ago...

I will never forget what he said as we watched the deer get bored with us intruding on them. "Isn't this romantic... you know, if you were into that kind of thing" and my reply "Yeah... It's a good thing we aren't into that."

And then we drove back....

That was the start... all those years ago.

My Life, is like an SNL Sketch

Sometimes... my life is hilarious, and if it wasn't do damn funny, well... it would just be true.

For example:

Promotion
As of today, I have been promoted (insert fireworks and confetti explosion here).
However, I have elected to keep my mouth shut about it until the official email stating such facts has rolled through to other stores.
Now, maybe you're wondering why I am doing this... well, I don't want to seem like I am bragging (that's gay), and today is my day off. Soooo... yeah. I'm a bit lazy. And while I am very excited about this I am equally wary of the reaction it will garner. But then again, maybe a parade will be thrown in my honor and I will be presented with giant golden keys and a plaque. Who knows... I tend to prepare for the worst.

Getting Hit On
Today, while out running errands I was hit on.
No big deal, it happens occasionally. I however, tend to not realize it is happening till I am half-way or more into the conversation. Some how I just think people are polite and only moderately interested in what I have to say and have very little interest of getting into my pants.
The guy who approached me was handsome (6 foot plus, sandy brown/blonde hair, green/hazel eyes, and of solid muscular build), not the usual guy that talks to me, more the type that goes for my BFFFE (remember Best Friend for F**king Ever). He talks to me about my tattoos and piercings (totally normal, I hear about it all day everyday at work. So much so, I have an auto-play button for answers of FAQ's). He has a thick accent, that falls between European and Middle Eastern... as it turns out, he was Israeli.
This, is funny to me because I pretty much have a list of countries that are tagged because a man from that country has hit on me or I have dated them... my foreign count is much much higher than my American count, to date.

So, yeah... today has been a little out there... Not exactly my typical day off...

And apparently there is a "party" I have been invited to on Friday or Saturday...
Aaaaaaannnnnnnnd.... I have NO intention of going. No matter how many times I am MMS pictures of an invite, emailed, e-vited, whatever.

Nope. Not. Going.


Not unless I can convince the Israeli guy to go with me as a body guard.

I was going to ride a wave... but now... not so much

I had been drafting this blog about riding a wave and gaining strength, but now, after some tough work, heavy reading and soul searching... I'm not.

Instead. I am thinking about all the little lies past lovers have told me.

I have been told by all past lovers that they'll love me (some for forever, apparently), take care of me and never hurt me. In the end, it is an epic fail on all counts. Those little lies, no matter how truthful in the beginning are a lie in the end.

Well... readers, the joke is on them. I've been telling the biggest lie all along.

I said I love you. I've said it quite a bit. But it's a lie.

Yep. I can tell you it is a LIE. I may have felt lovingly for you, I may have esteemed you, but I sure as hell was not in love with you (thanks to retrospect).

The joke is on them.

The last LOVE I really felt, still belongs to that person. It was what I am convinced love really is; the deep deep feeling of caring and an innate sense of wanting to both care for and protect another person from themselves, the outside and from anything that could hurt them physically mentally emotionally. It is also the make no demands relationship, all you want is the best for each person with no desire to alter or change the person, but for them to be themselves just as they are (thanks Bridg).

One person was given that, they still have it.

It had been previously locked away to keep anyone from touching it. I will be damned if anyone ruins that love for me.

All the others since, have gotten some bargain bin version of my love.

Or off brand version... either way, it isn't the same. It isn't as free, it isn't as forgiving and it sure as fuck isn't as lasting.

So, boys... if I said I love you.

I lied.

Save for one boy who still has a complete hold on my heart and his initial on my thigh.

no web

Have had no time to post because of work :(

Promise new real post tomorrow. So much to share!!

Thank you Thank you Thank you.... oh and Relationship Lazarus

A couple of things, before I dive in here...

a) HOLY CRAP I have readers??!?!?!!! I don't know how this has happened but the traffic here on the blog has like, increased by 10x, and considering I thought I only had 10 readers is impressive. Thank you everyone who has stumbled across here, even if you meant to or not. Thank you! It means a lot to me, that my words are working their way into peoples brains.

b) NO more work talk. It is back to basics here with the "Selfish Help".

Relationship Lazarus

(aka the actual post of this blog, after the Thank You)

How far under does one have to go before they can pull themselves up/out?

I don't know, how far I fell... But I did, then got buried and, possibly lost.

I wrote before about the things I found, the things I felt and how far I had to go to find them.

I am rising now.

You cannot hold on to something so intangible as heartbreak.

True, hope will crush you and potentially break you. Whereas hate, will cradle you and keep you warm with the internal fire it gives you.

Both of those are intangible as well. Just fleeting feelings we can choose (or not) to dwell on.

Now, I am sure you are eye-rolling me because you already know this, and you want me to get to the point...

I cannot let something so intangible keep shaping my life. Especially when that nothingness is someone else's. I can't let someone else's lack of love, or indifference or hatred for me continue to shape me. (OK, yes, it took me awhile to get to this point)

I mean, I truly value what others think of me... up to the point that it begins to hurt me.

This, was hurting me.

I have let myself shrink back and feel like so much less than who I really am.

And this is so much more of a mental/emotional shift than a physical one.

Which makes it that much harder.

They say, if you hear something ofter enough you will begin to believe it is true.

THIS is a case of that.

I was conditioned to feel this way. I was persuaded to think it was OK and that is how it should be....

Until. I remembered it wasn't.

It has taken me too long reach this point of sharp indifference.

But it isn't indifference, really... It is more... Apathy.

Because I have done a complete mental/emotional shift.

I have crossed the proverbial threshold into "No-Seriously-I-Am-Fucking-Above-This"

And in NSIAFAT, is where you can see yourself clearly (with a hint of arrogance) and really make the progress you need to.

I have thrown myself headlong into work, and have reaped some major benefits and hit a wall of exhaustion. I have been working on myself: creatively, physically, emotionally.

And it working.

I can feel the change in myself.

I act differently. I feel differently.

I am more me... once again.

Yes, there is a serious undercurrent of doubt, that it is a sham or that it wont last.

Only, I think the tide will roll out eventually, because once you find yourself (again) you have to work to lose yourself again.

Don't think I've been brainwashed. Don't think I've lost my mind and gone all spiritual.

Nope.

Quite the contrary.

I've got some fat paychecks (amazing how much more you're willing to work when you have no desire to see anyone but strangers and co-workers).

I've saved a TON of money (amazing how much you save when you're not driving halfway around the world for someone who wont move an inch for you, or always eating on the fly due to said driving).

I've found some center (ok, so Yoga did this, but I like the forced relaxation and dedicated focus to yourself to do it right). I found some education (I have seen more movies and read more books with my FULL attention... amazing how much more attention when you aren't having it diverted by someone's needs).

I found some friends (re-connection is GLORIOUS-- the people you loose to wayside when in a relationship is ASTOUNDING).

So what does this do with Lazarus?

It goes back to Plath (yes, Sylvia) and her poem Lady Lazarus and the haphazard pain of being reborn:

"And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die."

Ok, So I am not 30, yet, But I feel this way about heartbreak. I mean, I keep giving it out, getting questionable amounts in return, yet... I keep doing it. I keep falling, dying and rising again and again and again.

"For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart--

It really goes.  And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood"

Again, the never ending scars of the battlefield that is love. The remains of your person, after another tramples all the fuck over you. But yet, there is a "change for the hearing of my heart"... I take that to mean to be able to listen to yourself through the filter of yourself again.

But you see... This is not a poetry lesson, this is just the excerpts that apply and how I was inspired.

Yes, I had to read the musings of a "crazy" person to find my sanity.

But here I am, in my bight clear day, feeling better than I have in a very VERY long time. 

Pretty Natural Disaster

I went out last night (shocker) after work.

I had the strongest desire to not do it. Like every bone in my body was telling me not to do it. But everyone around me has been trying to get me to... so I caved. Hard.

This did not go as well as planned. But seeing how it was a) un-planned and b) I didn't want to do it, how high could the expectation be. Not. Very.

This is why it was a mistake.

I know, there is something un-healed about me. I've been trying to work and write my way out of it, but I'm still not out yet. I didn't need my friend, pointing out my obvious damage as we sat at the bar.

I didn't need him telling me how damaged I looked. I thought I was hiding it well... But he has known me for 10 years. He said, it was in my eyes. And if you know me, at all, you know there is a total lack of poker face in my face. I cannot hide anything no matter how hard I try.

I started wondering just how deep this damage is and how to wipe it off my face.

But then my thoughts wandered. Like they tend to do... Everything with force (positive or negative) leaves an impact, such as natural disasters (I don't know how positive natural disasters can be, beyond population control, but even then that seems harsh).

So... I wager, that all heartbreaks have a corresponding natural disaster equivalent.

Flood/Tsunami

Water rushes in, destroying everything in it's wake, then goes away. No proof it was there, until you see a school bus upside down on a billboard or something.

I've had that break up. You don't really see it coming (but you feel it might), then suddenly your world is upside down, and your left with soaking wet memories of what was. No real proof that it happened other than, currently there is nothing there; at before, something was there.

Earthquake

The shifting of plates below. Some subtle, the gentle fissures of plates grating against one another. Others, the earth shaking dramatic shifts that level cities and create a new landscape.

I've had this one too. Everything is literally fine and then one second it is not. Things are falling, shaking and breaking apart and in the end you are surrounded by rubble trying to be ok about the aftershocks. To me, this is the ex that pops up whenever you life is seemingly back on track with out him.

Volcano

The violent explosion of lava out of the earth after the warning signs of smoke and ash and previous eruptions.

I think this is most break ups. You can see the tale-tale signs of the break up coming. So you can prepare... You just can't time the eruption. Even then, post-eruption, there is still time to escape some types of lava flow.

See.. damage.

Every single one of these instances has a damage outcome.

Some mess to clean up.

I'm still in the clean up phase.... well no, I'm done cleaning up. But I still get the shakes every time the alarms go off, or the windows start to rattle. I'm scared.

I've survived multiple disasters. Each with different outcomes.

But out of the fear, is a sense of preparedness. The desire to not let myself be caught off guard again, or to at least have my survival pack full of supplies.

A House Divided

I've been working on this for a while......

My heart is a house

So many rooms have been closed off, in the wake of disaster

Windows boarded up for fear of re-entry

Others, just locked doors

With extra keys hidden, waiting to be unlocked

Others, left alone, open, ready

In an homage to the one that once lived

Fragile

Crumbling

Swaying creaking groaning in the howling wind

Shutters shake

Banisters quake

Glass quivers in the frames

supporting it's fragile weight

No one lives here anymore

just the roaming remains of the ones who once did

It's not done. I don't know what it is (ok poetry possibly) but yeah... hope you enjoyed that