Lucky girl

I’m just the luckiest girl in the world. My boyfriend watched my son overnight  so I could go hang out with my mom and sister, I have to get a procedure done and he texts me to say that he got the days off and approved by management within an hr or 2 of me telling him when it was scheduled, he buys me pickles every time he goes to the grocery store, he goes to all of my son’s IEP meetings, tells me I’m pretty everyday and never makes me feel badly for feeling upset or crying. I never feel like I can’t tell him if something is bothering me,  I can talk to him about anything, we sing System of a down together in the car, play guitar hero, I feel valued and appreciated and he makes me laugh. 

He’s smart, observant, intuitive, compassionate,  affectionate, loving,  witty, empathetic and perceptive.

He’s my best friend. 

You tried to beat me down. 

You lifted me up so I would fall harder. 

And I fell. 

It hurt. 

Though I was bleeding and bruised, 

I staggered to my feet. 

You said I was your everything. 

You claimed to love me. 

But then you’d see a loose thread on my sweater and pull. 

Pull me apart and watch me unravel on the floor. 

Then with your tongue to lash at my flesh. 

Your words leaving welts on my heart.

Again, bruised and bleeding, you help me to my feet, clean me up.

Only to push me down again. 

I became numb. 

I couldn’t feel the pain but in turn,

I could no longer feel the tenderness of love. 

I was a machine. I was a game. I was a game you were losing.

 And you lost. 

But someone else came along and found the reset button. 

Tuned me up and I’m as good as new. 

I can feel. I was wrong. 

I’m no machine. 

I’m real. He’s real. WE’RE REAL. 

Acceptance and understanding brought me back to life. 

I can breathe and there is no heaviness on my chest. Suffocating me. Smothering me. 

He knows me. All of me. Every me that ever was. 

This is what love is. 

And it’s bliss. 

When it’s real…

Right now,  somewhere,  some poor kid is falling in love for the first time, and it’s likely it won’t last forever.  I think pretty much everyone is born a romantic.  when we’re young,  we all have these ideals of what love is supposed to be. A fairytale that has been pounded into our heads or entire lives that isn’t realistic and seems to take ud by surprise when we learn that life just doesn’t usually work that way. but still,  young, niave and hopeful, we keep going.  clinging. just trying to force things to fit but it just. ..doesn’t.  

First loves are the purest. they are free of the baggage and skepticism that crush those ideals and sabotage our relationships. when that first love is lost,  you lose a huge chunk of yourself and you can literally feel it being ripped from your chest.  then you spend the rest of your days wandering aimlessly and blindfolded,  slamming into everything until someone takes your hand and lifts the cloth that’s pressed firmly against your eyes. a brand new face and then suddenly those ideals come creeping and you feel that heart pounding,  head rushing, tummy fluttering feeling and swear you’re hearing wedding bells and seeing fireworks.  still skeptical, you try to make sense of it thinking maybe it’s just my senses playing tricks on me.  My equilibrium is thrown off because It’s no longer dark,  my ears are ringing, I’m dizzy, it’s only because I can see again. some immediately reach for rose tinted glasses to make things seem to fit their original idea of love. 

I’m SO guilty of all of these things. I was left crippled by my first heartbreak and never fully recovered. every relationship after that one the blindfold stayed intact for the entire time. 
But then, one day, 2 major relationships, one broken engagement, a child, and twenty years later,  after consuming 2 cheap bottles of wine and a package of menthols armed with my smartphone and the Facebook app, I decided to do a little snooping (like I had done at least a dozen times before) on my first love. 

Last I’d seen, he was happily married and had been for the last decade, and had a son. I searched for him with no avail, so decided to check out the “wife’s”  Facebook profile only to find that although she still had his name, she was pictured with a different man and there were only a couple of pictures that were visible in which none of them included him or the children (which I found out later they had a second son) 
So panicked, thinking my one true love had perished tragically in some horrific accident, I found his mother and sent her a private message. 3 days went by and I got a response. not from her, but him! we arranged to meet the following day and when I ran up to hug him, that blindfold just slipped from my face and that part of me that always seemed to be missing, popped right back into place. 

We became inseparable. we’ve been together for 6 months. we are already living together and my heart still skips a beat when he texts or calls me from work, when I hear the door open and he walks through, and we still grasp and hold each other tight for at least a minute when he comes home. 

I’m so very lucky. I have never had such a feeling of completion. We’re actually HAPPY. Not just content… we’re truly happy. I never thought this was in the cards for me. I sure as hell never thought I would end up with him. 
He’s taken my son as his own. my son is autistic and is quite the handful but my love has helped us with a steady hand and I couldn’t be more grateful. 

I hope everyone gets to experience this. 

Second chance

I am elated, blissful, light and giddy. My life has turned into a plot line from a Nicholas Sparks novel and I’m falling madly in love for the second time with my first love.  20 years had passed since we’d last laid eyes on one another and the moment we had, it was like o time had passed at all. But here we are, 20 years, one marriage, several failed relationships and 3 children later, smitten with one another, texting every waking moment while apart but together in every possible chance. They say you never love quite the same as you do with your first… This is true. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never felt so alive and excited about waking up in the morning. Well,  Not since my freshman year in high school.

We’ve been inseparable for the last few weeks. We can both say “I love you” without hesitation and with complete confidence. It feels like I’m living a dream. I can’t focus, my mind is always drifting off to the man that has had my heart all of these years. Whenever I think of him, I’ll hear my phone ding and it a text from him saying he’s thinking of me. I never want to lose this feeling. I want to fly high on him forever.

And then…

I lay in bed, with my stomach turning and my heart sinking deeper into my the deepest pit of my stomach wondering why. Why don’t you believe in me? what is it about me that makes me so unworthy of your trust? I wonder why you don’t seem to care how I’m feeling.  My soul is dying, and you don’t even seem to notice the flicker of fire  that once danced in my eyes is now just cinder.   when you’re away,  sometimes I just need a person to talk to.  Someone to distract me from the loathing i feel sweep over me when I look in the mirror. All of the broken pieces of myself at your feet, but instead of helping me scoop it up and put me back together,  you just swept those pieces under the rug.  I keep moving forward,  wounded,  hoping you’ll slow down and recognize that I’m bleeding.  I wait for you to ask me if I’m okay, but instead,  you point out my flaws, those missing pieces and imperfections.

You don’t understand nor do you want to. I just want you to care if whether or not I’m okay.  But most of all, I just want to BE okay.

Over it.

You know when someone hurts you, over and over, and like a doormat, you lie there while they wipe the shit off their shoes into the fibers of your soul, and yet, you still just crave their acceptance and approval? You think about them all the time. They reject you, pull you back in, throw you back out, and on and on it goes.

I haven’t spoken to the one whom played this obdurate charade upon my heart in months. Sure…it was difficult to endure the deafening silence…But I’m okay! I’m just fine! I’m breathing. I’m laughing and smiling…I’m living. I’m really living.

Sure,I think about him from time to time, how supposedly he’s married to a 17 year old, but now, I’m no longer ambivalent. I’m no longer baffled and befuddled.
Im no longer flummoxed and flustered, perplexed and perturbed. At least not about him. But most of all, no longer in a timorous state of self loathing. I wish him the best. I’m no longer angry.

After being single…I mean REALLY single, without him calling me everyday making me feel guilty for ever leaving my home, and seeing what my options really were… they’re amazing, impressive, intelligent and beautiful men that wanted to be with me…I realized, I can do better. And I have. I have a boyfriend now…will it last? Who knows. But I’m enjoying him. He’s a wonderful man. He calms me. Makes me laugh. and I love spending time with him. The best part…He is just as interested in my son as I am. He pays attention to the therapists, implementing everything they say and do into his interaction with him, he cares. I don’t know if I love him. I know he loves me, because he tells me every day. I’m finally being treated how I deserve. I’m happy and so grateful. 

Still can’t believe it.

It’s been over a month since you took your last breath. Where your body lay stationary on the cool, coarse pavement.

Everyday had been agony since.

I would never have be able to tell you the thoughts and feelings I had for buried deep behind the darkened parts of my soul. I kept it shaded. You were the flame that ignited spark in everyone you touched. For some of us, you were a miracle. You were my touch stone in this tropical wasteland. The lighthouse that would guide me through the blackest of storms. You would mute  the sirens that would sing their echantments to seduce me towards death.

Your eyes were a sea of emotion.
Your heart defined the word “empathy”.
Your embrace was more effective to cure all ailments that burdened the soul of the recipient than any other remedy than anyone could conceive.

It was a pleasure to know you. It was a treasure to be endowed with your friendship And one was wealthy to have a place in your heart.

You’ll be missed my dearest friend. I wanted to make you proud. I will do everything in my power to continue to do just that. I love you.

Realizations

It’s over.  And I’m glad.  I need to rid myself of people whom make me feel less than.  I’m perfectly imperfect.  I have flaws and I embrace them.  I am not a martyr, a messiah nor am I anyone’s hero.  I love my child I’m a good mother and that is all I need to be. I’m nothing to you nothing to anyone but my child.  You say I’m used up. .. you say I use people. . Well who cares what you have to say? You’re a speck. A tiny speck. All of us are.  I don’t care what anyone thinks.  I’ve made my mistakes and in time, I’ll learn from all of them all.  I have no regrets.  Do I miss you,  sometimes.  Do I want to have contact. .. sometimes.  But do I NEED you?  Well. .. I’ve made it this long,  and I think I’m doing fine.  I’m beginning to think for myself again.  Wear my hair how I want to wear it,  wear my make up, clothes whatever without your ridicule, criticism, or as you like to call it,  guidance. 

You once told me,  after I had stated that you weren’t sweet to me anymore.  You never complimented me or said things to make me feel good about myself, that is how you’re supposed to mold someone into what you want them to be. How you train them.  At the time I thought you were joking. Well hind sight really is 20/20.

Im fine just the way I am.  I have plenty of people that think I’m beautiful just as I am. .. although the pin up look,  that was my doing.  You just tried to take credit. You encouraged me to dye my hair,  change my style, dress and look how I did when I was 16. I took a little of that and ran with it.  I dyed my hair. .. but not how you wanted but it looks awesome.  I look awesome.  I will say one thing. .. you helped me find myself.  How I’m most comfortable.  Except the yoga pants.  I don’t give a shit how much you hate them.  They make my ass looks hot and they are comfy as fuck. 

I thought that you would be “the one that got away” but,  I think I’m the one that got away.  There is a reason I couldnt stick with the idea of moving away.  I realized,  if you really felt how how you claimed to feel,  you wouldn’t have left me hanging.  You would’ve helped me get there.  You don’t really love me.  You never did. 

So as I put a close to this post, I’m just going to wish you luck.  If you call,  you know I’ll answer, shoot me an email, I’ll reply. .. but I’ll never fall like that again.  Not for you.  I don’t even know who you are. 

Tethered

Here I lay with a hollow chest, nor the slightest twinkle of life in my eyes. The sheets feel cold and so does my skin and I realize, it’s because so am I. The blood in my body remains motionless because my battered, blackened heart no longer has the strength to continue beating. I’m atrophied, wasted, and out of my mind. Wide awake, no longer sedated by your words. You gutted me like it was hunting season, laced up your sneakers and stomped away kicking sand into my weary eyes. I thought you loved me. Maybe you did, but I ripped you apart too many times. Ripped away the best pieces trying to
Keep them for myself only to find they would soon wither away, leaving you incomplete. The damage is done. Its beyond repair. We are no longer. It’s just you. And. Me. I wish you happiness. I hope you find peace. I hope you find the pieces of yourself I tried to keep. I hope you find out who you are. I will always adore you. But sometimes, the things that we love most, are the things that kill us.

This one’s for you 2

I got another silent call from an unknown number this evening. I’m assuming it’s you because I know you still love me as I love you. This is awful. I’ve come to resulting to to reducing myself to taking company with stressful people trying to fill that void in my heart that you’ve left me with. I’m suspecting that the current man I’m seeing is just a liar too. I’m afraid of loving and living without you. You’re my cornerstone and the one that makes me feel like I’m safe. Although towards the end before she broke things off, you were anything but the guy I fell for which later I would come to find was all a facade. A mere ruse to make me feel like I had found the one. Instead I ended up being someone that I would become obsessed with. Wtf. Me.. obsessed over you. Makes not a bit of sense. I have tried to look back and try to think about the good times. Like when I moved In with my sister and you came to see me all the time. The very first time you came to see me we all walked down to the store together and you called me your little cuntcake. I loved when you called me that. We would bite each other and you would always squeeze my nose. They thought we were weird, but we didn’t care. We were in our world and it was fun to have that with you. But that didn’t last…

        My sister loves me and wants me to be happy and be treated well. She didn’t like that you were with someone else and that you didn’t take care of me monetarily. She’s traditional like that. I didn’t mind. It wasn’t like we were engaged or anything. I was smitten with you and I think I still am. You were the only person who stuck around. I’m hoping in time, you’ll come back into my life. We can forgive and forget. And start anew.

I was thinking to myself this morning. About the baby. I would’ve been due in January. If I had known, I would’ve kept it. Although, I’m not certain you would be involved. You did refer to Brady as your son and turned your back on him so I’m unsure you would want to be a father. But that would’ve been one beautiful baby.

It’s hard to believe that we were so obsessed with each other but didn’t ever sleep together for over 2 years. It was an old fashioned courtship. Although when we did, it was intense 

Since hanging out with her, I think more and more about you because the truth is, I am not over you…you weren’t just one of the people I fooled around with. For the quick fix for loneliness when I couldn’t have you. I know in my heart that you didn’t intend for us to happen even though you had a crazy crush on me in high school. (Which I thought was so cute when you told me that) I never expected for a single moment that when you pulled up to my house that I would have been so attracted to you. I thought it would be fun to catch up with an old friend. I fell for you hard and fast. I’m not sure why. It seemed perfect. We seemed so in sync with one another. Little did I know, you were a chameleon. You blend. You pretend. I was wounded, and you wanted to fix me. I know I was impossible at times, but you broke me. I’m broken. I am unable to trust a single soul with my heart because you kicked it around in the dirt until I no longer had a pulse. Just a cold vacancy in my chest. It wasn’t so much what you did…it was the realization that the person I fell in love with didn’t exist. It was a lie. All a big fucking lie. So I bid thee farewell…whoever you are.