Like, I am sooo lonely So terribly miserably lonely
Yeah. I mean, I love what people see in me
Like they see this charismatic, outgoing, witty chick who is hopefully refreshingly different. Brains and takes care of herself.
But I am so lonely for lack of people who actually know me.
Like what about the people who know me as the deep-thinking, open-hearted, poetic romantic that has a philosophy for all things and a soul for humanity? A deep and abiding understanding of the human condition and emotional intelligence to spare.
People like my best friends like Silver and Desai, Josh, Allen, and [insert boyfriend here]
I come home to no one.
I hate it so much! Even when I lived in Somerset, at least I had a bf.
Now I come home to none of those people and no boyfriend.
Most people don't want to give it—the time it takes to invest in someone amazing.
People who want my number want the glittery short dress that dances dirty and has blonde hair and nice makeup.
In class, people want to conquer the chick with the bike.
People who seem genuinely interested, I am always disheartened when I imagine that chances are, they're only investing hoping to get with me
I don't talk to this one guy I know because I have the hots for him...I am talking to him because there's some part of me that hopes that what I'm seeing is at least partly a kindred spirit…and not an enlisted jackass.
I lived my whole life coming home to people. I came home to my mom, then at least I had a boyfriend when I came home to no one (which is one of the darker periods of my life) and then I came home to Allen, Josh, and Patty.
Now all of them are gone. I know Allen is coming home soon, but I am lonely right now.
And yeah I see my besties, but I want someone home with me. The house needs to feel in social, loving feng shui
I don't want a lover or a boyfriend or whatever. I want a companion
Because what can anyone say to us?
"Wait." That's it.
I got two hott guys' numbers today.
Doesn't mean shit to me.
None of it means shit to me.
I want someone to climb mountains with me, drive at night, get coffee, talk for hours.
Yeah. Lots in common with them. But still, what would they care about the person I am? probably nothing.
Yeah, I just need those loving, caring people in my house.
Otherwise...my house just isolates me in a painful analogy to how isolated I feel inside.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Even if just to post the quotes from the Oculatum that speak to me for the day, at least I'll be venting something, or giving myself and others something to think about regarding the mirror in the words.
"'Tis better travel alone than join with rogues' company."
A friend once asked me, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'More trouble than they're worth'?" Yes, from you. Now when you asked me how it was going I replied, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'More trouble than they're worth'?"
The only challenge in life lies in realizing what a blessing some tragedies can be, and what tragedies some blessings can be.
My friends carried me into the heavens until I found the wings to fly myself.
As Scorpios go, no matter how much we love you or how right you are and how right we KNOW you are, we will never listen until we burn. Then, only once we have lost thoroughly and painfully, will we ever truly learn.
So I say to you,
Have you ever heard the phrase, "More trouble than they're worth"? Because it is better to travel alone than join with rogues' company.
Quoth a wise friend,
"No, no one is exempt from morality. We all share the same moral code." and those who do not abide by it can only serve to drag their loved ones down with them and tear open hearts trying to grab at the ones who won't sink.
Для себя
"'Tis better travel alone than join with rogues' company."
A friend once asked me, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'More trouble than they're worth'?" Yes, from you. Now when you asked me how it was going I replied, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'More trouble than they're worth'?"
The only challenge in life lies in realizing what a blessing some tragedies can be, and what tragedies some blessings can be.
My friends carried me into the heavens until I found the wings to fly myself.
As Scorpios go, no matter how much we love you or how right you are and how right we KNOW you are, we will never listen until we burn. Then, only once we have lost thoroughly and painfully, will we ever truly learn.
So I say to you,
Have you ever heard the phrase, "More trouble than they're worth"? Because it is better to travel alone than join with rogues' company.
Quoth a wise friend,
"No, no one is exempt from morality. We all share the same moral code." and those who do not abide by it can only serve to drag their loved ones down with them and tear open hearts trying to grab at the ones who won't sink.
Для себя
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
"In Love", the Acronym
Being in love is bullshit. Total, absolute, meaningless, bullshit. Now, don't get me wrong--it exists, and it's a beautiful feeling. However, it merits nothing even close to currency in the trade of relationships. "In Love", that happy, goofy, lighter-than-air feeling that causes mild heartburn, butterflies, and arrhythmia of the lungs and heart lasts for approximately...a week. After that week, there isn't as much of the physical side effects (probably a fortunate thing, because the burning in your throat can get a bit annoying after it happens as often as you think of them, which, by the way, is at least once every minute or so). After that week, you glow for the next...yes, three months. Wow...three months. That's a beautiful...three months...to base your entire relationship on. Except it's not. "In Love", biologically, exists for fertilization. Emotionally, "In Love" exists so that both people could not possible stand to be away from each other for long enough to take a dump, all for the reason of...building something deeper--which is the evolutionary purpose. You call her all the time, text limitlessly, pine, and daydream about romantic frolics in the park all so you can 1) bone her so you can impregnate her 2) once you impregnate her, so you can spend enough time together to build what it will take to keep you together with your child. So, what are you building? What is left once "In Love" (hereafter referred to as 'IL') fades? (And, yes, folks, I swear on everything that what you knew in the beginning as IL will fade. No fear! Something will replace it...let's just hope that "something" is not irritation, hatred, resentment, contempt, or vehement intolerance.) Silly little things like trust, love, devotion, loyalty, respect, comfort, and deep and detailed knowledge of the person's thoughts, feelings, tendencies, personality, tastes, and the important things like what gives them meaning and what to say when they need you start to matter. You think that your unlimited texting plan and those butterflies will keep you together 30 years from now? Actually, no. Chances are, those two geeky kids in high school that spent every waking hour together studying and never even once kissed or thought about each other in that way will be holding hands in Central Park at 80, having tea over Sinatra love songs and fucking harder at 80 than you ever did in college. This, by the way, may sound like a rant...but how many rants are backed by psychological studies, which turn into statistics, which document facts? Who are you to argue with me when I studied this for two years as a HOBBY? Not to mention studying it for 8 years as a lovelife. People who fall in love and start a relationship have no better chance of "making it" than people who get together because they care about one another or because they think they fit. So, surprise, in 3 months, the couple who decided they're too unlikely to marry anyone else other than their best friend and the couple who left "ZOMG I LUV U SOOOOOOO MUCH" plastered all over each other's facebook walls will, in three months, have the same chance at succeeding together once the things that count begin to move in. IL counts only for a better chance at getting people together for those first three months. In fact, the people that get together because they care about one another and find each other attractive have a better chance of staying together because they based their relationship's conception on their logical compatibility rather than their biological urges. Sorry to disappoint everyone who thought that IL was not biological. I've been through it all by now to be an expert. So how come no one listens? I've been through IL and love, lust with no love, love with no lust, IL without love, and love without IL. I fell in love twice to know what I'm talking about, and what happened of the two? The first time had everything. I happened to fall head over heels for...my best friend, who was not only a smart choice by my hypnotized IL standards, but also by logic. We suited each other as it was. When we were over, it's not pining and romantic walks on the beach that IL spawns that I missed, it was my best friend. It was the person I'd see before bed, the person I'd detail my day to, trust my family problems to, do absolutely EVERYTHING with...because he and I shared interests and intellectual points of view. Fuck the sex, give me my other half back.
Awesome to know I'm in a lose lose lose situation, though. There is no convincing, because I could not be convinced. "I want passssiooonnn," I whined, and so I threw away anything that ever meant anything (all those aforementioned trust, respect, love, friendship, companionship blah blah blah's up there) for what? The second time I fell in love was fucking retarded. He was a scumbag loser who had the trait I hate the most in people: dishonesty. He was shallow, crass, and superficial. Great things to realize...once three months pass. So what now? Why am I even bothering to care for a significant other that I don't feel IL for? Because if I did it'd be gone by now anyway. The only thing that'd be left if I fell in love with him in the first place is what is there now: I care about him, his feelings, his problems. He shares all my interests, my hobbies, my conversational topics. We have similar backgrounds, histories, ethics, outlooks, views, humor, personalities, and family dynamics. We feel about the same for one another and we are the same level of attractiveness. The sex is great, and I don't see either one of us being the type to get lackluster or lose our spice. I'm not with him because he's Prince Charming. I'm with him because he suits me just fine, he's my best friend. He's there when I need him. To be honest, the major reason I'm with him is because he legitimately cares about me. This is close enough to the same thing I lost when I made the mistake he will one day make with me. I have someone again that is my best friend that I can spend hours hanging out with without kissing, and then spend hours ravaging in my bed another day. That shit works. It's fucking proven. The relationships that last are the ones that end with the couple being best friends (...with a sex life, naturally). IL just gets you to "best friend" faster...or it doesn't. Just wait until you discover that the one you fell IL with is that shallow scumbag that marked my second IL. Congrats!
But hey, don't take my testimony. I haven't fucked up my life before or anything. Take the testimony from an old black couple I watched a video on MSN about once. The wife talked about how they fight, sure, but they stayed together so long because, "he's my best friend. We always talk everything out." Good luck with Miss Perfect. She could be your next best friend turned wife once the IL runs out...or you could find her with your buddy's dick in her mouth while your best friend ex rode off into the sunset to go find out why the hell her life is still punishing her.
And even thus...even knowing all of this and having this desire to cut and run and save myself the trouble of frustration, even as turned off as I get knowing that I'll never fully enjoy this relationship because he's too scared to just have a good time with me and enjoy it while it lasts, even now I understand finally how men go into war in the front lines knowing they'll die. Because sometimes, even things that carry certain risk are worth doing because your life will not have meaning without it. I know I will end up cast aside. I know it will suck almost as much as the only time I got my heart broken. (Notice I said almost...there's no way anything can hurt more than something that is your own fault--a good warning to heed.) Even knowing I'll have to grin as my best buddy introduces his next chick to me and I have to be buddybuddy with her to keep my promise to our friendship true...I still will march on because I don't want to miss out on the good time I can still have. The only thing that makes me want to desert this army is the thought that I'm being "saved" from what is essentially half the fun. I'm being denied romance and little nuances just because I might get all swept up and be all heartbroken or led on. News for you--I have never been led on. Even in the very beginning I knew better. I won't get swept away. I'm not with you to snag you. I'm with you...to be with you. Because that's the only reason that ever keeps people together. And when I can no longer be with you, then what? I'll drink myself into the toilet and cry myself asleep? No. That's just not how it works, okay? Now, I know you may think that you'll fall IL with your "perfect match", and I challenge you to find your "perfect match". Too bad it'll be so hard to top--and those aren't my words, they're yours. You act like you're settling. Find something that will be better after the first three months. Potentially, you really can't feel this great about me, and yes, that does hurt. I have different views than you do; ones based on realism and experience. I'm honestly offended that you think I'm so fragile and delicate. I'm also honored that you care about my feelings. Honestly, thank you, because, like any time you screw up, it's only because you are trying to keep me from harm because you care about me and my wellbeing. However, you need to believe me when I know what's good for me. Every time you haven't, you've been in the wrong. Believe me when I say I need to enjoy this because if I know it will end, I might as well enjoy the ride, and you're not letting me. Trust me when I say we need to live it up because if you keep shaving off the corners and cutting my rations to save me the heartbreak...I'll never even have sweet memories to look back on, and then I will have gone through all of this for nothing, not even to say I had a good time, because I didn't. And I'm not. And I'm asking you to please have a good time, because I'm not without that. Stop worrying. Burn that candle at both ends, because in doing so, you are making the person you care most about hurting happy.
Love
Phoenix
Awesome to know I'm in a lose lose lose situation, though. There is no convincing, because I could not be convinced. "I want passssiooonnn," I whined, and so I threw away anything that ever meant anything (all those aforementioned trust, respect, love, friendship, companionship blah blah blah's up there) for what? The second time I fell in love was fucking retarded. He was a scumbag loser who had the trait I hate the most in people: dishonesty. He was shallow, crass, and superficial. Great things to realize...once three months pass. So what now? Why am I even bothering to care for a significant other that I don't feel IL for? Because if I did it'd be gone by now anyway. The only thing that'd be left if I fell in love with him in the first place is what is there now: I care about him, his feelings, his problems. He shares all my interests, my hobbies, my conversational topics. We have similar backgrounds, histories, ethics, outlooks, views, humor, personalities, and family dynamics. We feel about the same for one another and we are the same level of attractiveness. The sex is great, and I don't see either one of us being the type to get lackluster or lose our spice. I'm not with him because he's Prince Charming. I'm with him because he suits me just fine, he's my best friend. He's there when I need him. To be honest, the major reason I'm with him is because he legitimately cares about me. This is close enough to the same thing I lost when I made the mistake he will one day make with me. I have someone again that is my best friend that I can spend hours hanging out with without kissing, and then spend hours ravaging in my bed another day. That shit works. It's fucking proven. The relationships that last are the ones that end with the couple being best friends (...with a sex life, naturally). IL just gets you to "best friend" faster...or it doesn't. Just wait until you discover that the one you fell IL with is that shallow scumbag that marked my second IL. Congrats!
But hey, don't take my testimony. I haven't fucked up my life before or anything. Take the testimony from an old black couple I watched a video on MSN about once. The wife talked about how they fight, sure, but they stayed together so long because, "he's my best friend. We always talk everything out." Good luck with Miss Perfect. She could be your next best friend turned wife once the IL runs out...or you could find her with your buddy's dick in her mouth while your best friend ex rode off into the sunset to go find out why the hell her life is still punishing her.
And even thus...even knowing all of this and having this desire to cut and run and save myself the trouble of frustration, even as turned off as I get knowing that I'll never fully enjoy this relationship because he's too scared to just have a good time with me and enjoy it while it lasts, even now I understand finally how men go into war in the front lines knowing they'll die. Because sometimes, even things that carry certain risk are worth doing because your life will not have meaning without it. I know I will end up cast aside. I know it will suck almost as much as the only time I got my heart broken. (Notice I said almost...there's no way anything can hurt more than something that is your own fault--a good warning to heed.) Even knowing I'll have to grin as my best buddy introduces his next chick to me and I have to be buddybuddy with her to keep my promise to our friendship true...I still will march on because I don't want to miss out on the good time I can still have. The only thing that makes me want to desert this army is the thought that I'm being "saved" from what is essentially half the fun. I'm being denied romance and little nuances just because I might get all swept up and be all heartbroken or led on. News for you--I have never been led on. Even in the very beginning I knew better. I won't get swept away. I'm not with you to snag you. I'm with you...to be with you. Because that's the only reason that ever keeps people together. And when I can no longer be with you, then what? I'll drink myself into the toilet and cry myself asleep? No. That's just not how it works, okay? Now, I know you may think that you'll fall IL with your "perfect match", and I challenge you to find your "perfect match". Too bad it'll be so hard to top--and those aren't my words, they're yours. You act like you're settling. Find something that will be better after the first three months. Potentially, you really can't feel this great about me, and yes, that does hurt. I have different views than you do; ones based on realism and experience. I'm honestly offended that you think I'm so fragile and delicate. I'm also honored that you care about my feelings. Honestly, thank you, because, like any time you screw up, it's only because you are trying to keep me from harm because you care about me and my wellbeing. However, you need to believe me when I know what's good for me. Every time you haven't, you've been in the wrong. Believe me when I say I need to enjoy this because if I know it will end, I might as well enjoy the ride, and you're not letting me. Trust me when I say we need to live it up because if you keep shaving off the corners and cutting my rations to save me the heartbreak...I'll never even have sweet memories to look back on, and then I will have gone through all of this for nothing, not even to say I had a good time, because I didn't. And I'm not. And I'm asking you to please have a good time, because I'm not without that. Stop worrying. Burn that candle at both ends, because in doing so, you are making the person you care most about hurting happy.
Love
Phoenix
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
My Collage
So I found this on some GIS. (here: http://lifeintheleftlane.wordpress.com/category/meme/)
If I Were…
If I were a month, I’d be May.
If I were a day, I’d be Friday.
If I were a time of day, I’d be dusk.
If I were a planet, I’d be Venus.
If I were a sea animal, I’d be a dolphin.
If I were a direction, I’d be south.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a bed.
If I were a liquid, I’d be water.
If I were a gem stone, I’d be a mystic fire ice CZ.
If I were a tree, I’d be a lilac.
If I were a tool, I’d be a Leatherman.
If I were a flower, I’d be an orchid.
If I were an element of weather, I’d be summer thunderstorms.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a piano.
If I were a color, I’d be cerulean blue.
If I were an emotion, I’d be happiness.
If I were a fruit, I’d be a strawberry.
If I were a sound, I’d be an engine rev.
If I were an element, I’d be Neon.
If I were a car, I’d be an Audi R8.
If I were a food, I’d be Gummy Bears.
If I were a place, I’d be a tropical island.
If I were a material, I’d be satin.
If I were a taste, I’d be succulent.
If I were a scent, I’d be Miracle.
If I were a body part, I’d be eyes.
If I were a facial expression, I’d be a charming smile.
If I were a song, I’d be Kuss Mich.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be stilettos.
I thought I'd apply it to me...these aren't my favorites, naturally. They are what I think would fit what I think of myself. Food for thought...
If I Were…
If I were a month, I’d be May.
If I were a day, I’d be Friday.
If I were a time of day, I’d be dusk.
If I were a planet, I’d be Venus.
If I were a sea animal, I’d be a dolphin.
If I were a direction, I’d be south.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a bed.
If I were a liquid, I’d be water.
If I were a gem stone, I’d be a mystic fire ice CZ.
If I were a tree, I’d be a lilac.
If I were a tool, I’d be a Leatherman.
If I were a flower, I’d be an orchid.
If I were an element of weather, I’d be summer thunderstorms.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a piano.
If I were a color, I’d be cerulean blue.
If I were an emotion, I’d be happiness.
If I were a fruit, I’d be a strawberry.
If I were a sound, I’d be an engine rev.
If I were an element, I’d be Neon.
If I were a car, I’d be an Audi R8.
If I were a food, I’d be Gummy Bears.
If I were a place, I’d be a tropical island.
If I were a material, I’d be satin.
If I were a taste, I’d be succulent.
If I were a scent, I’d be Miracle.
If I were a body part, I’d be eyes.
If I were a facial expression, I’d be a charming smile.
If I were a song, I’d be Kuss Mich.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be stilettos.
I thought I'd apply it to me...these aren't my favorites, naturally. They are what I think would fit what I think of myself. Food for thought...
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Prodigal Daughter
Here's the background scene every strategically good book starts with: Crying, miserable, ready to resign her control over. Weeping until the breath is drained from her lungs at every sob, she begs for a second chance, a second happiness, something better than the brimstone fire of despair that burns steadily away at the pathetic embers of her broken facade. "Please," she begs, "Please just let me be happy again. Give me a second chance and You can decide whatever You want. Show me and I will listen. I am so sorry for forsaking you in the first place. I swear I'm Yours. Take me back. Help me, please, You are the only one who can..."
So someone should totally smack me. Seriously. You know how Russians hit shit to make it work? Maybe I need that to get my brain to work. Let's take a simple quiz.
You are unable to focus on a movie because you're too busy getting butterflies in your stomach for the man you're laying with. Making out with a hot Army guy that you're pretty much smitten with, the phone rings. It's your ex. You:
a) Turn your shit off
b) Continue. Next is the shirt.
c) Throw your new phone
d) Pick it up.
Hey, here's a hint. Maybe the answer isn't D. 0. You got a 0 on this quiz you dumb bitch. Fail. EPIC. I know what was going through my head, though, and it was honorable. He told me once that if I only picked up he'd stop calling. I just wanted him to stop calling.
He had every right to get hurt or insulted or angry. He had every right to make me realize how wrong that was. If it were me, I probably would not have even been so understanding. Forgiven, my downtrodden stupid self went for a ride to clear my head. Mayank wanted me to call, and I wanted to call.
"Hey so who were you watching the movie with?"
"Alan."
"G?"
"No, Army."
"Oh. May I ask you a question, and you sure you won't mind?"
"Yes, please do continue."
"Do you think you'll move on?"
"I don't know what is in my future. I can't see that far ahead. All I know is that I like spending time with him and he makes me happy, and I have no strings attached to anybody."
"Do you think you will become attracted to him?"
"Yes I do. I want to learn more about him, and the more I learn about him, the more I like. I like his personality and we have a lot in common and he puts me at peace. I didn't used to understand what Josh meant when he told me some things, but I understand now, and I am happy."
The only thing that I didn't tell him is what isn't any of his business, only mine and Army's.
Let me summarize the agonizing minutes into the basic points. I easily replace people. I broke promises. I lied when I said I'd give him a second chance for a mistake. I'm doing this on purpose. I am doing this for revenge. I move from guy to guy. Let's get back together. Just give me a chance. I know you are happy, but I can make you happier. We can work on it if we try.
Let's tackle that list, shall we? I do not replace ANYONE. No relationship I build with anyone is the same as any previous or forthcoming. I break no promises because I make no promises I can't keep. Mistake? Having a shitty relationship is not a mistake, it is two people being wrong for each other. You broke up with me, you fucked this up, I tried my best. Doing this on purpose? I'm trying to slow myself down so I do this all right. Let's not get back together. I would be living a lie. It's not about fights anymore, it's about romantic feelings--I have NONE. You can't work on something like that. If you even had a chance, why would you have kept it? You have done nothing but proven me right from text message to text message to phone call to facebook status that you are a cruel, hurtful, mean person and I knew exactly who I am broken up with and that I was right and he hasn't changed. How can he even begin to understand what makes me happy? I'll tell you what. What does it take for you to understand and believe me that it is NOT HAPPENING because I don't WANT IT TO, it's MY CHOICE, and I am happy? Should I tell you how I feel when he's around? When I look into his eyes? When he touches my hand? He's not a rebound; I experience genuine happiness. Is that so wrong? Am I sleeping around? Expecting commitment or relationship? Hooking up? Using someone? Being conscienceless? No. None of the above. I told Army the truth. His friendship plus whatever we have going is worth more to me. I lost the best thing in my life. I'm not fucking up a good thing. I'm not fucking up my second chance at happiness for the same reason I fucked up before. I'm not being stupid this time, and I'm not spitting in God's face. I told Mayank everything, and when he didn't understand, I said it blatantly. I do not want to get back together, it is not happening, and no, I can't spend as much time with him as with Army because the kind of time I spend with Army is differently motivated. There's so much to learn. He intrigues me, interests me, makes me happy, and gives me peace. I don't see my best friends every day unless I live with them. I see Army daily, though.
Crowning jewel on this monarchy of Suck:
"You are worthless to me if we are not together. You are the biggest liar I have ever met. You are a worthless piece of shit. I truly and seriously hope that you end up in a divorce with some asshole and are miserable and alone. You lost all of your friends because you fucked up. One more thing--you can go suck his cock. I'm going to write you an e-mail sometime this week. Read through it and really think about where you're headed in your life." Dana, may I get off the phone now?
Um...I won't do that, but if you like, if we ever have sex, I'll take pics and send them to you attached to a Thank You card for your friendly advice.
Whatever. I'm glad this happened. I probably wouldn't have been ballsy enough to do what I did if Army didn't hand it to me straight. I can't believe I almost fucked such a good thing up. At least I have time to make up for it. I started by calling him and telling him that I came clean.
Choice quotes:
"I won't let this happen to me." Oh really? What will you do? I'd rather die than live a lie knowing I could have been happy with someone else.
"Once you lose me, I'm gone forever." Big loss. I really need someone in my life to make me feel like shit on the bottom of a jogger's shoe.
"How could you do this after someone did it to you?" Because it makes sense to be happy instead of being bitched at. I know what he's going through, and I also know he's wrong. Love is wanting someone to be happy and doing whatever it takes to keep them in your life. Not the opposite. This is all a little too crazy for me. I'll take my snowed in cuddles and intoxicated Tuesdays in peace, Thank You.
Damn...God Bless America. *salute*
So someone should totally smack me. Seriously. You know how Russians hit shit to make it work? Maybe I need that to get my brain to work. Let's take a simple quiz.
You are unable to focus on a movie because you're too busy getting butterflies in your stomach for the man you're laying with. Making out with a hot Army guy that you're pretty much smitten with, the phone rings. It's your ex. You:
a) Turn your shit off
b) Continue. Next is the shirt.
c) Throw your new phone
d) Pick it up.
Hey, here's a hint. Maybe the answer isn't D. 0. You got a 0 on this quiz you dumb bitch. Fail. EPIC. I know what was going through my head, though, and it was honorable. He told me once that if I only picked up he'd stop calling. I just wanted him to stop calling.
He had every right to get hurt or insulted or angry. He had every right to make me realize how wrong that was. If it were me, I probably would not have even been so understanding. Forgiven, my downtrodden stupid self went for a ride to clear my head. Mayank wanted me to call, and I wanted to call.
"Hey so who were you watching the movie with?"
"Alan."
"G?"
"No, Army."
"Oh. May I ask you a question, and you sure you won't mind?"
"Yes, please do continue."
"Do you think you'll move on?"
"I don't know what is in my future. I can't see that far ahead. All I know is that I like spending time with him and he makes me happy, and I have no strings attached to anybody."
"Do you think you will become attracted to him?"
"Yes I do. I want to learn more about him, and the more I learn about him, the more I like. I like his personality and we have a lot in common and he puts me at peace. I didn't used to understand what Josh meant when he told me some things, but I understand now, and I am happy."
The only thing that I didn't tell him is what isn't any of his business, only mine and Army's.
Let me summarize the agonizing minutes into the basic points. I easily replace people. I broke promises. I lied when I said I'd give him a second chance for a mistake. I'm doing this on purpose. I am doing this for revenge. I move from guy to guy. Let's get back together. Just give me a chance. I know you are happy, but I can make you happier. We can work on it if we try.
Let's tackle that list, shall we? I do not replace ANYONE. No relationship I build with anyone is the same as any previous or forthcoming. I break no promises because I make no promises I can't keep. Mistake? Having a shitty relationship is not a mistake, it is two people being wrong for each other. You broke up with me, you fucked this up, I tried my best. Doing this on purpose? I'm trying to slow myself down so I do this all right. Let's not get back together. I would be living a lie. It's not about fights anymore, it's about romantic feelings--I have NONE. You can't work on something like that. If you even had a chance, why would you have kept it? You have done nothing but proven me right from text message to text message to phone call to facebook status that you are a cruel, hurtful, mean person and I knew exactly who I am broken up with and that I was right and he hasn't changed. How can he even begin to understand what makes me happy? I'll tell you what. What does it take for you to understand and believe me that it is NOT HAPPENING because I don't WANT IT TO, it's MY CHOICE, and I am happy? Should I tell you how I feel when he's around? When I look into his eyes? When he touches my hand? He's not a rebound; I experience genuine happiness. Is that so wrong? Am I sleeping around? Expecting commitment or relationship? Hooking up? Using someone? Being conscienceless? No. None of the above. I told Army the truth. His friendship plus whatever we have going is worth more to me. I lost the best thing in my life. I'm not fucking up a good thing. I'm not fucking up my second chance at happiness for the same reason I fucked up before. I'm not being stupid this time, and I'm not spitting in God's face. I told Mayank everything, and when he didn't understand, I said it blatantly. I do not want to get back together, it is not happening, and no, I can't spend as much time with him as with Army because the kind of time I spend with Army is differently motivated. There's so much to learn. He intrigues me, interests me, makes me happy, and gives me peace. I don't see my best friends every day unless I live with them. I see Army daily, though.
Crowning jewel on this monarchy of Suck:
"You are worthless to me if we are not together. You are the biggest liar I have ever met. You are a worthless piece of shit. I truly and seriously hope that you end up in a divorce with some asshole and are miserable and alone. You lost all of your friends because you fucked up. One more thing--you can go suck his cock. I'm going to write you an e-mail sometime this week. Read through it and really think about where you're headed in your life." Dana, may I get off the phone now?
Um...I won't do that, but if you like, if we ever have sex, I'll take pics and send them to you attached to a Thank You card for your friendly advice.
Whatever. I'm glad this happened. I probably wouldn't have been ballsy enough to do what I did if Army didn't hand it to me straight. I can't believe I almost fucked such a good thing up. At least I have time to make up for it. I started by calling him and telling him that I came clean.
Choice quotes:
"I won't let this happen to me." Oh really? What will you do? I'd rather die than live a lie knowing I could have been happy with someone else.
"Once you lose me, I'm gone forever." Big loss. I really need someone in my life to make me feel like shit on the bottom of a jogger's shoe.
"How could you do this after someone did it to you?" Because it makes sense to be happy instead of being bitched at. I know what he's going through, and I also know he's wrong. Love is wanting someone to be happy and doing whatever it takes to keep them in your life. Not the opposite. This is all a little too crazy for me. I'll take my snowed in cuddles and intoxicated Tuesdays in peace, Thank You.
Damn...God Bless America. *salute*
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Wood.
There is no coming back from this. There is no tumult waiting to capsize my calm. There is no rustling in the warm, sunny glad within me. There is only sunlight, yellow and fertile. The buds wait only for the word, and they will bloom. No, there is no wind and no threat, there is only quiet luxury of peace and the sound of life.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
BBFF: Blog Best Friend Forever
I know...I'll tell you!!!
I wanted to tell someone [other than my mom, whom I called at 5:30 am about this] about how I feel. I don't think anyone is home who would empathize, and my boyfriend is being mock-happy and sarcastic right now, so I have a blog!
Last night was the best night ever. After three classes (skipped one) and work, my assistant manager came in to relieve me at 9:00 pm so I could go to the Russian club meeting. I went home, quickly changed, made it on time, and took a seat. There must have been about 30-40 people there! I was nervous and a little shy at first, and after introductions, everyone was welcome to Russian refreshments. I meekly placed a couple of treats on my plate and sat down. After sitting along for about 2 minutes like a dumbass (who goes to a club to meet people and sits alone?) I went to go chat with Etel. Another officer chimed in, Sasha, and we struck up a conversation about our mutual suffering in engineering. This conversation dominated and led back to the desks (after we realized we were the only ones standing) and continued on to what classes he would have had cancelled the next day, Differential Equations, and zodiac signs, including whether or not we believe. He's a Scorpio, too, October birthday close to mine. Anyway, the meeting continued with a rousing(?) game of Mafia, a suspicion game based on accusations and murder (yay!). Some people (with a sense of humor and fun attitudes) enjoyed it more than others (who have trouble understanding the concept of suspense and why not anonymity is crucial to the game). I was a cop and they killed me off for trying to help them pin a mafioso. Damn it I'm a cop it's my job (literally, in the game, only we know for sure) to know. Afterward, we broke up into small groups to play/learn to play a card game called Durak, with relatively complicated rules. It was still so welcome and so strange to hear and understand Russian conversations behind me in the classroom. Sasha was advising us newbies on the strategic methods best to use in Durak, and after clean up, I bummed a ride home. Upon arriving to Mayank's place (where I got dropped off) he seemed okay enough, though perhaps a bit bummed at not being able to see me to hang out. However, not five minutes after I got there, Etel called me back and invited me to their apartment to hang out with her, her roommates, and the rest of the club officers. This time, Oleg swung by to pick me up with the others in tow, and we stopped at 7-Eleven for fruit punch before heading to join Sasha at the ladies' Busch apartment. Upon arrival, I popped open a beer (Natural Ice...because even piss is tolerable cold) with the guys and relaxed on the couch before Nastya made the jungle juice and we began a round of Kings. The slightly different rules were fun, though, and the game lasted an extremely long time. Of course, only Russians would make rules like, "Every time you drink, you drink twice." and "Drinker picks a buddy" and "Drinker's buddy picks a buddy." Around the third rule (Drink every time you say "like"), everyone began to get understandably fucked up. This mission was further accomplished by the guys' desire to finish off that crappy 30-pack of Natural Ice, which triumphantly ended in a shirt off, with drunken dancing, ghetto strobe lights, and awesome Russian techno music mixed in with our usual favorites. After several rounds of creative Truth or Dare (nothing inappropriate, actually--what do you think we are--Americans? lol)
...Aaaaaand what a great idea it would be to go have a snowball fight! When we first got to the apartment, we saw scantily clad (for February blizzards, that is) black guys completely fucking each other up in the snow. We decided to be with each other in the snow, completely fucked up. The others lit up a cigarette and then came the horseplay. Idiots that we were, the booze made us feel warmer than we thought, so Etel insisted on preventing my hypothermia with the generosity of the warm contents of her closet. On our slippery, wobbly journey to the door, Sasha sabotages our desire for not-pneumonia by pulling us away, inevitably ending in rolling around in snow, throwing snowballs, and uncontrollable laughter paused only for excited shouts in Russian. Though being shirtless with just a light windbreaker open over his torso was enough for him, Etel and I successfully returned warmer and dressed more heavily in preparation for going on the swings. "Teeeshe, teeshe, ve zhe znayeti shto shas Indeeskaya zhenshena budyet kryechat na nas?" she warned, "Etel, yazhheee smaguuu po Hindiiskii na neyoo nakreechattt!! Shto tie volnuyeshsya!?" I warned, barely clinging in an awkward position to being carried across the yard. On the swings, we discovered that it is difficult for someone to sit on your lap while swinging. We next discovered a snowman, which was promptly destroyed by the gentlemen after a valiant effort by Etel to thwart their snow pillaging. We rebuilt it, crooked, many times, with sticks in the wrong places and lumpy middles insulting human design, but stumbled away successfully to go aid some guy who drove his Mustang into a drift. Shouting proudly about the RUSSIAN COMRADES TO DE RESCUE, we huffed and puffed his 8-cylinder out and started for the apartment. While Sasha was insisting on drifting his Kia, completely wasted, in the parking lot, I tried to convince him instead to give me the keys. When that didn't work, we convinced him we'll go after we warm up inside. On the way back home, I saw it. A shopping cart. I screamed, "A SHOPPING CART!!!!!!!!!1" and climbed in, proclaiming what a great idea this was! They drifted the cart with me in tow in the wet, sticky snow and after falling several times, we went back to the apartment. For more drinking. And more dancing. And more Truth or Dare, before Colya finally drove me home in his BMW, which, by the way, BEASTED the snow. At 6 am, groggy and gushing with joy, I went to sleep with a cranky Mayank.
So what of this evening? I cannot even begin to describe the feelings of belonging that this awakened in me. After so many years of wondering what it was that was making me feel just slightly out of place, I was welcomed into a group of friends and hospitable hosts that carried on in traditionally influenced fun. How can I explain what makes it so different? How can I adequately describe the relief of being able to speak Russian to people my own age, with similar stories, attitudes, and beliefs about fun and good times? I never ever felt so comfortable, and the atmosphere never felt so genuinely dripping with goodwill as I felt last night in the company of Russian/Belorussian/Ukrainian Americans. I never quite fit in with Russians, and I never quite perfectly fit with Americans, but Russian Americans are exactly my breed of understanding! No one here is faking kindness, or grinning an awkward smile to be polite. No one is trying to get laid. No one is getting fucked up to see how much they can chug. No one is waiting for someone to pass out to draw on them (they were conscious for that part). No one is lazy, on the couch, talking about how fucked up they are. We all got together for a relaxing fun time around friends to enjoy their company and feel a sense of togetherness from the unique brand of party that comes from our blended cultural backgrounds. I felt a sense of trust, kinship, friendliness, honesty, innocence, and goodwill that can often only be achieved around people you've known your whole life. Yet, with Russians, this feeling happens after an hour or two of knowing them. That's what makes our social life and behavior different. I finally belonged somewhere. I finally had an identity, found it, sharing its skeletal contours with many wonderful people who inherently understood and shared my sentiments.
Did I mention the hospitality?
P.S. WARNING: BREAKS TONE OF BLOG ENTRY. I wake up to a Mayank angry about what time I came home, sarcastically urging me to sleep and insisting that I need it. Seriously? What happened to a boyfriend being there to listen to their partner and being supportive of their emotions? What happened to the listening---the understanding? How can I tell him the deep satisfaction of the connection I made? Isn't he supposed to be the first one I gush to--and he's worried about what time his prized posession comes home and how proper or improper it is, and how to leash the pet he's parenting? I'm 21, not 45. At 45, I'll only stay out to 4 am. I just hate the piss-poor level of understanding and the finger wagging and the silent anger, burning caustically in the phrases dripping with sarcasm. What happened to being each other's best friends? Does that stop? I just left. I left, finally, without trying to start an argument. He doesn't realize how he made himself appear the other day when he ignored me and coldheartedly, cruelly cast me aside as some animal. He doesn't realize that I no longer trust him enough to tell him my deep emotions from last night, and that is the most costly loss I can think of. This is a different kind of trust. This is the trust you have when you believe people will listen, when people will care, when people will understand. I don't trust him to listen to me--to see me as a human being with feelings and deeper emotions. I can't confide in him. What is that? Who will see me as a person? I'm tired of being a posession, when the only thing that matters in the stead of my happiness is what time I come home and do as is wanted or expected of me. I thought I moved out of my house, and even my parents never ever lost my trust in that regard. (I called my mom at 5:30 am to tell her about this and she understood so perfectly.)
I wanted to tell someone [other than my mom, whom I called at 5:30 am about this] about how I feel. I don't think anyone is home who would empathize, and my boyfriend is being mock-happy and sarcastic right now, so I have a blog!
Last night was the best night ever. After three classes (skipped one) and work, my assistant manager came in to relieve me at 9:00 pm so I could go to the Russian club meeting. I went home, quickly changed, made it on time, and took a seat. There must have been about 30-40 people there! I was nervous and a little shy at first, and after introductions, everyone was welcome to Russian refreshments. I meekly placed a couple of treats on my plate and sat down. After sitting along for about 2 minutes like a dumbass (who goes to a club to meet people and sits alone?) I went to go chat with Etel. Another officer chimed in, Sasha, and we struck up a conversation about our mutual suffering in engineering. This conversation dominated and led back to the desks (after we realized we were the only ones standing) and continued on to what classes he would have had cancelled the next day, Differential Equations, and zodiac signs, including whether or not we believe. He's a Scorpio, too, October birthday close to mine. Anyway, the meeting continued with a rousing(?) game of Mafia, a suspicion game based on accusations and murder (yay!). Some people (with a sense of humor and fun attitudes) enjoyed it more than others (who have trouble understanding the concept of suspense and why not anonymity is crucial to the game). I was a cop and they killed me off for trying to help them pin a mafioso. Damn it I'm a cop it's my job (literally, in the game, only we know for sure) to know. Afterward, we broke up into small groups to play/learn to play a card game called Durak, with relatively complicated rules. It was still so welcome and so strange to hear and understand Russian conversations behind me in the classroom. Sasha was advising us newbies on the strategic methods best to use in Durak, and after clean up, I bummed a ride home. Upon arriving to Mayank's place (where I got dropped off) he seemed okay enough, though perhaps a bit bummed at not being able to see me to hang out. However, not five minutes after I got there, Etel called me back and invited me to their apartment to hang out with her, her roommates, and the rest of the club officers. This time, Oleg swung by to pick me up with the others in tow, and we stopped at 7-Eleven for fruit punch before heading to join Sasha at the ladies' Busch apartment. Upon arrival, I popped open a beer (Natural Ice...because even piss is tolerable cold) with the guys and relaxed on the couch before Nastya made the jungle juice and we began a round of Kings. The slightly different rules were fun, though, and the game lasted an extremely long time. Of course, only Russians would make rules like, "Every time you drink, you drink twice." and "Drinker picks a buddy" and "Drinker's buddy picks a buddy." Around the third rule (Drink every time you say "like"), everyone began to get understandably fucked up. This mission was further accomplished by the guys' desire to finish off that crappy 30-pack of Natural Ice, which triumphantly ended in a shirt off, with drunken dancing, ghetto strobe lights, and awesome Russian techno music mixed in with our usual favorites. After several rounds of creative Truth or Dare (nothing inappropriate, actually--what do you think we are--Americans? lol)
...Aaaaaand what a great idea it would be to go have a snowball fight! When we first got to the apartment, we saw scantily clad (for February blizzards, that is) black guys completely fucking each other up in the snow. We decided to be with each other in the snow, completely fucked up. The others lit up a cigarette and then came the horseplay. Idiots that we were, the booze made us feel warmer than we thought, so Etel insisted on preventing my hypothermia with the generosity of the warm contents of her closet. On our slippery, wobbly journey to the door, Sasha sabotages our desire for not-pneumonia by pulling us away, inevitably ending in rolling around in snow, throwing snowballs, and uncontrollable laughter paused only for excited shouts in Russian. Though being shirtless with just a light windbreaker open over his torso was enough for him, Etel and I successfully returned warmer and dressed more heavily in preparation for going on the swings. "Teeeshe, teeshe, ve zhe znayeti shto shas Indeeskaya zhenshena budyet kryechat na nas?" she warned, "Etel, yazhheee smaguuu po Hindiiskii na neyoo nakreechattt!! Shto tie volnuyeshsya!?" I warned, barely clinging in an awkward position to being carried across the yard. On the swings, we discovered that it is difficult for someone to sit on your lap while swinging. We next discovered a snowman, which was promptly destroyed by the gentlemen after a valiant effort by Etel to thwart their snow pillaging. We rebuilt it, crooked, many times, with sticks in the wrong places and lumpy middles insulting human design, but stumbled away successfully to go aid some guy who drove his Mustang into a drift. Shouting proudly about the RUSSIAN COMRADES TO DE RESCUE, we huffed and puffed his 8-cylinder out and started for the apartment. While Sasha was insisting on drifting his Kia, completely wasted, in the parking lot, I tried to convince him instead to give me the keys. When that didn't work, we convinced him we'll go after we warm up inside. On the way back home, I saw it. A shopping cart. I screamed, "A SHOPPING CART!!!!!!!!!1" and climbed in, proclaiming what a great idea this was! They drifted the cart with me in tow in the wet, sticky snow and after falling several times, we went back to the apartment. For more drinking. And more dancing. And more Truth or Dare, before Colya finally drove me home in his BMW, which, by the way, BEASTED the snow. At 6 am, groggy and gushing with joy, I went to sleep with a cranky Mayank.
So what of this evening? I cannot even begin to describe the feelings of belonging that this awakened in me. After so many years of wondering what it was that was making me feel just slightly out of place, I was welcomed into a group of friends and hospitable hosts that carried on in traditionally influenced fun. How can I explain what makes it so different? How can I adequately describe the relief of being able to speak Russian to people my own age, with similar stories, attitudes, and beliefs about fun and good times? I never ever felt so comfortable, and the atmosphere never felt so genuinely dripping with goodwill as I felt last night in the company of Russian/Belorussian/Ukrainian Americans. I never quite fit in with Russians, and I never quite perfectly fit with Americans, but Russian Americans are exactly my breed of understanding! No one here is faking kindness, or grinning an awkward smile to be polite. No one is trying to get laid. No one is getting fucked up to see how much they can chug. No one is waiting for someone to pass out to draw on them (they were conscious for that part). No one is lazy, on the couch, talking about how fucked up they are. We all got together for a relaxing fun time around friends to enjoy their company and feel a sense of togetherness from the unique brand of party that comes from our blended cultural backgrounds. I felt a sense of trust, kinship, friendliness, honesty, innocence, and goodwill that can often only be achieved around people you've known your whole life. Yet, with Russians, this feeling happens after an hour or two of knowing them. That's what makes our social life and behavior different. I finally belonged somewhere. I finally had an identity, found it, sharing its skeletal contours with many wonderful people who inherently understood and shared my sentiments.
Did I mention the hospitality?
P.S. WARNING: BREAKS TONE OF BLOG ENTRY. I wake up to a Mayank angry about what time I came home, sarcastically urging me to sleep and insisting that I need it. Seriously? What happened to a boyfriend being there to listen to their partner and being supportive of their emotions? What happened to the listening---the understanding? How can I tell him the deep satisfaction of the connection I made? Isn't he supposed to be the first one I gush to--and he's worried about what time his prized posession comes home and how proper or improper it is, and how to leash the pet he's parenting? I'm 21, not 45. At 45, I'll only stay out to 4 am. I just hate the piss-poor level of understanding and the finger wagging and the silent anger, burning caustically in the phrases dripping with sarcasm. What happened to being each other's best friends? Does that stop? I just left. I left, finally, without trying to start an argument. He doesn't realize how he made himself appear the other day when he ignored me and coldheartedly, cruelly cast me aside as some animal. He doesn't realize that I no longer trust him enough to tell him my deep emotions from last night, and that is the most costly loss I can think of. This is a different kind of trust. This is the trust you have when you believe people will listen, when people will care, when people will understand. I don't trust him to listen to me--to see me as a human being with feelings and deeper emotions. I can't confide in him. What is that? Who will see me as a person? I'm tired of being a posession, when the only thing that matters in the stead of my happiness is what time I come home and do as is wanted or expected of me. I thought I moved out of my house, and even my parents never ever lost my trust in that regard. (I called my mom at 5:30 am to tell her about this and she understood so perfectly.)
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