The Double Edged Sword of Repetition…

Repetition is great, if you’re trying to stave off a bad habit or you’re trying to start a new good habit. What I’ve realized though is that repetition in life is insanely boring. I am aware that with my personality and my current state that repetition is the only way that I’ll do things that are, for most people, simple like cleaning or exercise or grocery shopping; it’s something that I just dislike.

I hate that I have a job that’s always the same thing, during the same hours, during the same days of the week. I wake up at the same time, go through the same morning routine. Then when I get to the office that pattern starts. I unlock the door, turn on the lights, turn down the AC and make my cup of coffee. All this is done while waiting for my computer to boot up so I can check the same hundred emails the just keep repeating. At the end of the work day, the same thing. If I’m the last to leave then I’m turning up the AC, cleaning my coffee mug, logging off my computer, turning the lights off and locking the door.

I know that if things were like that I’d probably never actually make it to work so I can see the advantage of it all. However, lately, since things are a bit different at work I tend to come and go as I please. Instead of going out to eat every single weekday I actually bought groceries to make a sandwich which is really weird for me but lately this hole circle of repetition has been racing through my mind, on repeat (imagine that).

It had me thinking of a man that I dated a while back. First, it was a short lust affair and second he was less a man than he was a boy. He was much younger than me and extremely immature but he was fun. We never did the same thing twice. He once took me to race cars. We had a picnic in the rain. We camped, went fishing and drove four hours to watch a football game.

One night, he’d gotten tickets to an invitation only party and we’d decided to go because it was new and fun. When we got there, we’d realized that it was actually a private sex club. It was a scene out of Eyes Wide Shut without the weird bad acting. He was noticeably uncomfortable but we’d decided to stay for at least 30 minutes. Then if we were both in agreement we’d leave. Nothing was going to happen but I was intrigued. I wasn’t uncomfortable because no one else aside from my date was.

I remembered walking around with a flute of champagne in hand wondering if I’d see anyone that I knew. Back in those days, I’d heard that my boss and his wife were into that stuff and that was my only concern to not run into them. It wasn’t gross or perverted or Cinamax-esq. For some reason I felt as though I wasn’t old enough myself to be there and realized that he must have felt even younger so I appeased him and we left.

It wasn’t long after that that I knew dating him was fun and exciting but that he needed to be with someone a bit closer to his age or at least his maturity level. I never went back to a place like that but out of all the experiences that we had together that’s the one that stood out the most to me because I could remember exactly how it made me feel. It was a moment.

I’ve said this before but I don’t remember dates (unless there’s a five in there somewhere) but I do remember moments and the feelings that surrounded that moment. Some have been those “Movie moments” that I talk about. The one’s that end up in cheesy romantic comedies but some are just ones that leave an imprint.

That’s what’s been lacking in my life lately is the imprints, the movie moments and the new experiences. I know that I won’t wake up tomorrow and suddenly have one of those things happen and that’s the part that scares me. That those moments are over. It’s as if I’ve been hexed with the curse of boring and that someone once looked at me with envy or disdain for the happiness that I was feeling and put so much “evil eye” on me that it took away all the great moments in life. To be, it’s almost the same as taking away the air I breath and now I’m stuck.

The best way to describe this feeling is that life is just hard right now. I’m having an allergic reaction to it. I’m feeling disconnected to people, to myself. I’m uneasy. I acknowledge that things are in desperate need of changing but where do I go from here? What’s the next step? Some days, as the world is happening around me I feel like the one person standing still screaming in my own head. I need a shock to the system.

I’ve also said this before, in such a connected world that we live in today why is it so fucking easy to feel the most alone that ever before? Days like today I just really need to know that I’m not except I’m not even willing to answer to the phone to find out. I’m in need of something new, something real, something that doesn’t go away the moment I open my eyes.

I wish I had a better story for you tonight but that’s what’s on my mind…


Seeing yourself in others…

So this next story is about a family trip. A few weeks ago my brother, sister-in-law and niece decided they wanted to come down and go to the zoo. Apparently their zoo sucks and ours doesn’t. So they got up at the butt-crack of dawn and drove 2.5 hours to meet me and off to see the lions and tigers and bears “Oh my”.

First disclosure, I actually hate the zoo. Well, maybe not HATE but dislike a lot. I’ve just never found it that interesting and it’s sad to see these animals in cages. But my niece loves all animals. A few days before my brother had asked about a couple friends to see if they’d like to come. I texted THE friend and in typical fashion he’d ignored the text as if it just disappeared into the universe without his knowledge and since I didn’t really want to hear some BS about how he never got it or some other excuse I’ve never brought it up. It’s painfully obvious that he only wants to be “secret friends” so I don’t know why I waste my energy on trying anything new. After that it discouraged me a bit so I decided to forgo asking anyone else and was just happy enough to hang with my little monkey.

They reached their first destination, my home, around 9:30 which if you know me then you know that that is to dang early for me especially on a weekend and I didn’t even get a chance to get my coffee in with fear that it might “kick in” at the wrong moment. I could already tell that my brother was agitated. Not really sure why but I didn’t care. It had been way too long since I got to hang with the coolest 3 and a half year old EVER.

She was sweet and immediately asked if I could sit next to her which was already a given. We were playing with stuffed animals the whole way there. By the time we’d actually pulled into the zoo it was already packed and hot and humid. Everyone stated where they wanted to go and what they wanted to see and so we commenced to finding appeasement for each. We saw the dinosaurs, tigers, chimpanzees and as he heat climbed so did my brothers temper. It was easy to see that he was going to explode soon and for no reason what-so-ever.

If you’ve been here, at my blog, for the long haul you’d know that my brother and I have always had a volatile relationship. He was an angry kid who chose to take it out on the most defenseless human he could. At that time it was me. I suffered years of verbal and physical trauma which finally was subdued when he went off to college and on a trip home one weekend a friend of his, whom I’d never met, caught my brothers fist mid air, right before it hit me. His friend looked at him and said, “If you want to hit something then hit me”. Mind you, his friend was a football player and much larger that he. After that, he never even attempted it again. That is another human that I owe a huge load of gratitude to.

But because of my younger years with him I knew what set him off, just how much he’d blow and how far to be back. He’s had anger issues for most of his life and he’s self-medicated about half that time with pot. I’ve always been a fan because if it wasn’t for that then I’m sure things would be much worse.

After a blow up in the car, for no reason what-so-ever his screaming was enough to almost give me a panic attack remembering all the ways he’d hurt me in my younger years. I’ve said before that the physical scars evaporated but the emotional ones never will. The moment I heard his start his screaming I went back into the 10 year old version of myself feeling invisible scabs being ripped off. Then what happened next brought me to tears.

I looked over at my carefree 3 and a half year old niece who was now playing with her new stuffed animals from the zoo and her body was frozen. Her face had the look of terror that I understood. From the look of her I could feel every single thing she was feeling in that moment because I had been there long ago and my only words for it was terrified. In that moment I wanted to ripe her out of that car seat, bundle her in a blanket and run far far away.

A few weeks after that, my friend in the Northeast and I were talking about that and I explained the version of the story that I remembered and he actually understood. He knows a lot of our history and he knows the history that my brother and I share. Growing up my friend was on my brothers side of things and now that we’re adults I’d say that he’s a much better mutual friend to both. I see him as another brother but one that I don’t have a terrible history with.

He ended up having a lengthy discussion about my brothers anger issues and situations that my friend had witnessed. None of it took away the pain that I felt for my niece and please understand that that is not a common occurrence with her around for him. It was just nice to talk to someone that knew the childhood stories of what I went through, listened to me and understood. That was exactly what I needed in that very moment and I am grateful to him for that.

The thoughts that come from the strangest places though. I knew at that moment that I would be a good mother if given the chance. But again, are my chances ruined because I’ve passed up so many. I would never be someone that would forgo the love for a man that I deserve just to have a child and I never have but does that mean that I’ve lost that part of my life? And so continues the regrets that I’ve had especially over the last few months.

These last few months have been a lot of things. I’ve seen dark days, black. I’ve been in physical and emotional pain. I’ve been depressed and bored. I’ve yearned for things that I once had and didn’t appreciate enough. But on the flip side of all of that I’ve also learned that the smallest of things can make me happy. The tiniest of deeds. The times that I’ve been the most happy were not being given luxurious gifts, expensive dinners or taken grand trips. I’m moved by things like someone taking the time to listen to me. I’m moved by the tiniest of expressions of love, caring and gratitude. I’m happy with the smallest surprises or the breaks from monotony. I smile at being the stories, the memories that others have to share. When people show loving concern. I have so many of those people in my life from my friend in the northeast who calls me and we chat away his entire 3 hour drive home, to my BFF who sends me messages that “even though you don’t want to talk I am here for you and love you”, to my GBF who calls or text every single day to see if there’s anything that I need, to my friend (the waiter that I barely know) who just paid for my entire dinner tonight.

It’s easy to be sad and depressed about the things that suck in life and the people who make you feel like less of a human than you deserve but it’s amazing when the other people in life make you feel exactly the way you want to feel at the very moment that you need to feel that. I have gratitude for all those amazing people tonight, the ones that bring me to tears in a good way.

None of that was meant to be a dig at the one person that I truly wanted all those things from. There’s lots of things that I cherish and that I am grateful for that he’s done or that we’ve done together. The times that he cleans, unknowingly with his OCD perfectionist style, I am grateful for. I miss the days that he would come to my door while I was “asleep” to (in my mind) check on me. I miss the days where he had climbed into bed, nothing sexual but maybe just to be next to someone else for a few moments. I miss the hand holding and the sweet kisses on the cheek and the hugs from behind. It feels as though it’s been an eternity since we’ve touched and probably won’t ever happen again. I miss the falling asleep together on the couch on a rainy day and having some part of his body accidentally find its way to mine to linger.

You see, all our most special moments to me are the ones that you can’t buy, measure or plan. They just happened and now, they’re all gone. It’s still a very sad place to be in when you find your heart empty and echoing the memories of yesterday. I can be grateful for all those things above and still sad that it’s come to this. God, I just wished that he’d just have paid a bit more attention to me and less to the social box inside a five inch piece of shit or to some new girl that so easily walks out of his life or that he still made the rest of the world disappear for just a few moments…

I’m not easily had and I don’t easily give. I wish he knew that this was a true, unique and meaningful gift.

Yes, things can easily be spun back to him in pretty much any story over the last few years but I will stop doing that soon enough and give him as much thought as is returned.

I give my gratitude to all those things above and the strength to move on.


Different roads lead to the same places…

It’s tough to know where to begin when I’ve been away so long. There’s been a lot of stuff that’s happened, some good some bad and some just downright typical. I suppose we don’t have to get to all of it tonight but I feel like I must unload my mind to some extent otherwise it might lead me to say things to people that I just don’t have the strength to take back.

Let’s start with this. About a month ago an old friend texted me and wanted to start a business. We hadn’t spoken for months but he thought that I’d be the best person to start this with and because he’d said he missed me. There’s a lot to be said about those words, “I miss you”. Maybe that’s why I said yes or maybe it was because I just wanted something new. (I’ll get to that part later). So since the last time I was here I’ve started the process of starting a business. This is the smallest part of this story.

So after seeing him again, I realized that I’ve not had the kind of relationship that he and I used to have in a very long time. We joke, play, plan, respect, admire and have always said that we’d marry each other if nothing else worked out. That’s not where this story goes… He’s married, once happily but now they’ve just settled into their thing so they’re content. I like his wife and she’s completely ok with the fact that we have chemistry together. She see’s us sparing off each other and having a type of relationship that they don’t have and she’s realistically ok with it.

We were all sitting down conversing and she’d actually asked why we never actually officially dated. Basically she knew that we were best friends with a side of the good stuff and we were ok with that but when she asked the question I’m not sure either of us really knew the answer. Maybe we didn’t want to ruin a good thing… I really don’t know. But either way we are both happy with how things hadn’t worked out that way for either of us. It does tend to bring up all the chances that I’ve passed up through the years and just wonder why things have worked out the way that they have.

That brings me to my next section which is my tendency to become bored with relationships, life, work… All things. I’m in that place right now so very badly. There’s nothing that I look forward to. I wish that wasn’t the case but even the one thing that I held close to me which was THE friend and my relationship has become the worst case scenario. This is a man that I once got butterflies every single time he’d text and when I was around him I felt no desire to eat or to talk to anyone else. I knew none of that was reciprocated but I was happy (even though I sought out to complain a lot) because being in love with someone does things to your brain and your body and the being in love part is actually amazing it’s the rest of the crap that was never very nice.

After our longest sabbatical apart since we’d become friends again I thought things would be different. Occasionally I’d feel those old feelings and it was the best worst feelings in the world. He’d cooked for me. He surprised me. He started doing things that he didn’t do the first go around which made me feel appreciated and like we were in an actually friendship. But then things started to go back to where I didn’t want things to be and I realized that we were in a loveless, emotionless, sexless and invisible relationship.

There were no dinners, no surprises, no dishes being done, no pay backs and again I was and am back to feeling like it truly doesn’t matter whether I’m in the room or not because he doesn’t care. Now, he’s not entirely at fault here because I don’t communicate or tell stories or bring things up and there’s reasons for this. I’ve attempted to do all those things but have been met with rudeness, condescension and most times he’s so into someone or something else that he’s actually not even heard a word I’ve said. I’ve literally been three sentences in to something and realized that he’s not paid attention to me what-so-ever so I keep quiet.

I’ve tried to wave shiny objects, or food to get his attention and someone or something else is always more interesting. Well, I guess when I prayed that I soon feel the same way about him as he did about me that my prayers were answered because I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of being ignored until just by happenstance he’s remembered me. I’m tired of being a day of the week only so that he can feed himself with food, TV and internet.

I long miss the days when, even though there was no sexual chemistry there was still some sort of intimacy between us. I long miss the days that I received a text message that didn’t have a request in it. I long miss the days when I knew that it was me and only me that was the reason he’d come around. The truth is, I am more lonely when he’s sitting right next to me than when I’m actually alone. I guess I don’t stay shiny and new to him very long, if I ever did. I thought about praying for him to, for just one moment, feel about me as I did for him. I never actually did though because that’s obviously never going to be or has been the case so why even waste the breath.

It’s funny, as I flip through my news or random articles on flipbook, the ones that always used to catch my attention were ones like “How to make sure he stays happy” or “How to stay in the I love you phase”. Then my attention moved to, “How to fix a relationship” and “What to do when things get complicated”. Now, I scroll through my article feeds and roll my eyes when I see things about relationships. It makes me sad. I’m not sure if I’m sad that I’m not in love anymore or I’m sad that it never actually mattered.

I’m typing this and crying for the first time in a very long time. Maybe I’m crying because it’s the end of an era or I’m crying because I know that I’ll never feel like that about anyone ever again or because what used to bring me comfort, safety and joy now makes me regret things I’ve done. I used to say that I never regretted anything because it’s all taught me lessons but I think I want to go back to that first fight we had, sitting in my car when I blurted out that I was in love with him and I’d take it all back or maybe I’d never have slept with him or maybe I’d never have gotten on that boat… I don’t really know anymore.

We’ve had some good times. I won’t deny that and I won’t deny that half the blame is on me for doing things, not saying enough or saying too much but I hate the fact that someone that I once thought I could be with forever, in a fun, loving and equally compromising relationship is someone that makes me feel like the loneliest person on earth.

They say when love dies it feels like an actual death and that you actually morn. If that’s the case then I guess I’ll be wearing black for a while. He was never required to love me back but he really should have taken on some responsibility to not make me regret anything. The fact that I’m sitting here, in tears talking about him and he’s probably out not thinking about a thing and having fun is just another typical reason why, going back, I would have done so many things so different. If there was ever one single tear shed for me from him this might have been an entirely different post.

My prayer tonight is that if this wasn’t all for nothing and there’s a point to me going through all of this then something needs to change. We, I’ve been stuck in a rut for way too long to continue this at all. Especially when there’s so many people out there that say the things and do the things that I wished he’d done or said and those relationships don’t make me feel like the loneliest person ever…