Dead

I don't have the time to go through and clean up (i.e. freely delete) old posts right now.  But this blog is officially dead.  "You can go about your business...move along..."  I appreciate you not sticking around and perusing my old drama :\

I was trying so hard not to sink into this

Socialized with my new job tonight.  It was a blast.  I left feeling energized, strong, secure.

Then I came home and facebook, on some freak algorithm, showed me a thumbnail to S' profile.  It's a new picture, thank God only of him, but this time his amazing smile's not for me.

And now I'm absolutely falling apart.

So far as I've braced myself I hadn't really been thinking about him specifically.

I thought he was everything.

He's certainly all I know for summer.

And everything he did was only for me.

And what do I have to show for it?

I've dated a couple idiots who've made me feel completely, completely worthless.

And he apparently has something worth keeping around for months longer than he and I ever made it.

why?

Lies (or at least no longer true)

So I opened the Sticky Notes program on my computer to save my cousin's Army address. I guess I hadn't opened Sticky Notes in months and months. Among what I had forgotten I'd saved in there:

"And I wish I could make up to you the times in which I wasn't able to talk with you, able to be next to you. I miss your touch, your beautiful voice, and just your presence around me."

"YES! Jeez, every time I think about you I can't wait to be next to you, close to you, hold you close."

sigh...

I think I've (subconsciously!) convinced myself that my life with this big hole in it is a dream, and that any minute I'll wake up and everything will be okay. I'll be living the holiday bustle I'd planned; the wheels will be spinning toward the future I'd planned; I'll be happy, like I planned. Things will be like they were, only better. And these months of emptiness won't be anything at all.

And can you blame me? It happened once before. i.e. after months of separation things got back like they were, only better.

I thought I'd decided to let it go. And I truthfully believe that I did--I just managed to grab back on at the last second.

hmm.

Things will be better once the new year has passed...

Drama Queen Drive Home

a playlist. (and honestly I was more in the mood for it for my drive a couple weeks ago than I am now, I just hadn't quite finished it yet...)

1. "Homecoming," Hey Monday
I'm coming home, I wanna know, when all the leaves begin to fall, if I'm falling, falling apart for you

2. "You and I," Lady GaGa
It's been a long time since I came around, been a long time but I'm back in town, this time I'm not leaving without you

3. "...Baby One More Time," Britney Spears
my loneliness is killing me

4. "The Story of Us," Taylor Swift

I used to think that one day we'd tell the story of us, how we met and the sparks flew instantly

5. "I Cant Do it Alone," 3OH!3

'cause god damn it, I can't do it alone

6. "Kansas City," Sneaky Sound System
somebody in Kansas City loves me

7. "Rolling in the Deep," Adele
I can't help feeling we could have had it all

8. "Molasses," The Hush Sound

you say there's something better, but tonight you know you'll never find it

9. "The One that Got Away," Katy Perry

in another life, I could be your girl, we'd keep all our promises, be us against the world

10. "Super Bass," Nicki Minaj
excuse me, you're a hell of a guy*

11. "Take My Hand," The Cab ft. Cassadee from Hey Monday
this is ending, but we will get through eventually

12. "Over Thinking," Relient K
one more guy/girl cliche, I know now you're just in the way of me and my dream come true

13. "Cold Shoulders," Gold Motel

some things end without trying, we turn away without warning

14. "Littlest Things," Lily Allen
sometimes I wish we could just pretend, if only for one weekend

15. "Breakfast at Tiffany's," Deep Blue Something

it's plain to see we're over, and I hate when things are over when so much is left undone

16. "Inside Out," Britney Spears
even if we couldn't last forever, baby, you know what I want right now.

17. "Goodbye to You," Michelle Branch
I want you, but I'm not giving in this time.

*This song might seem a little out of place, but that lyric played over and over and over in my head during the 3-hour breakup conversation.

littlest things

in a weird place still, today. over the moon for [x]. I found myself trying to list reasons I should marry him, reasons we should be together long-term. the little things.

our chemistry was incredible. he doesn't drink. he's fine not having pets. he knows how to do/fix just about everything around the house, with a car, with a computer. he lives frugally. he understood the TS side of me, the side I hate to let anyone see. we had amazing rapport, and our senses of humor matched pretty well. his IQ was near mine, lol.

soooo many "pros!" how is that not enough? I guess all that shows we're compatible, and he'd be useful to keep around, but none of those things are "forever"-strength glue. things like shared beliefs, or shared dreams of the future. :\ the list above would last us a while, but without the backbone of dreams and beliefs, there'd be an endpoint. it would be finite.

Mom says now I know what to look for, and the right person will have all those pros plus the other things I need. but, every detail? the no booze, no pets? the disability? seems like a tall order.

note: from my journal, the day last week I couldn't write a sonnet. I don't know if I'm sad for realz or if I'm just mopey because I was mopey over t-giving last year and I tend to retrace my steps. 2 months out. I don't feel like I think about him a lot lot...well...relatively...

It needs to be said.

Adam--

Fuck you.

3 years ago you led me on, made me think I was special, made me completely fall for you, only to suddenly realize, DUH, I was just a rebound. I was 2nd choice.

Last winter you led me on, made me think I was special, made me completely fall for you, made me into something I thought I'd NEVER do to another woman, but I was still just 2nd choice.

You treated me horribly, but you know why I never unfriended you?

Adam, before the drama, we'd been friends for five fucking years. I didn't unfriend you because of the dorky Kirksville postcard you sent me in London, because of how you'd always ask my opinion about the latest Harry Potter, because of fucking MSA, Jesus! YOU'RE the one who still brought it up sometimes, who still held it as sacred. (Me, I'd fucking rather see the money go to--I don't know, anything remotely useful in an actual school!!) You were the only MSA person I was even remotely still in contact with, and as much as you hurt me, I didn't want to burn that bridge. I'd think that, even if 5 years of friendship before we pushed it too far doesn't mean anything to you, fucking MSA would.

I guess what I'm saying is, you had no right to unfriend me, since YOU are the one who repeatedly wronged ME. The immaturity of the action honestly bemuses me. What the fuck did I do to you? Not give you the chance to crawl back into our old pattern? Excuuuse me, princess. You've broken my heart countless times, but I say something slightly hurtful, and that's it?? Do you not see how douchey that is??? How much of a double standard? Fuck, makes me almost wanna send an informational facebook message to the girl you dated last winter--except, wait, I don't fucking go out of my way to hurt people.

Fuck you. I never would've chosen to burn the bridge. I respected the friendship we used to have.

I would never wish bad things, but I don't wish you well.

(the next morning: and, see, this is exactly why I refused to restart communication with him. he has WAY too much pull over my emotions.)

tik tok?

I can't stop ticking.

Plus, I've picked up a new one. Hand-wringing.

(Tics are exacerbated by stress, of course. But with the exception of maybe 2 incidents of coprolalia, my tics haven't waxed or waned* since I was a kid. Apparently my current emotional state is hitting me hard.)

You have no idea how distressing it is to not have control over what your hands are doing. To become aware of it, and stop yourself, but then the second you stop paying attention, they go right back to it. Or not stop yourself, because you know it'll just start up again, plus it's so calming to just release and let your body do what it needs to do...

*It's normal for tics to wax and wane, that is, one might disappear for a while and sometime later a new one might crop up. But for me it's been flapping, leg-bouncing, and silent palilalia (?) pretty consistently since, like, middle school.

http://www.tsa-usa.org/aMedical/whatists.html

Blogging in couplets

(muahaha to blogging in couplets. getting old yet? ;) )

Grieving again, except this time it's real.

I really can't figure out what I should feel.

We don't have what it takes to last fifty years--

I need to accept it in spite of my tears.

Rock bottom, I gave him a shot at what-if

he ignored it, 'though I reckon that he got my drift.

The difference between nostalgia and not-letting-go,

I couldn't figure out a year ago.

Accept it and move on...

accept it and move on.

there's no future for me down this road.

there's a greater story to be told.

I'm just so damn stubborn, I'm sure you all know.

once I decide something I can't let it go.

I'd made up my mind, no questions, no fuss.

What do I do when it's all in the dust?

"Just between you and me, getting older and more responsible is kind of horrible sometimes."

healing process

I haven't cried in 6 days.

But, I all but had an anxiety attack this afternoon. That was unusual.

so.

you win some, you lose some. i guess?

Write My Own

(First of all, my apologies to the internet. I have absolutely no creative writing training, and I didn't even begin to revise this. The rhyme and meter are pretty painful. Anyhow, may I present...)

I'll Write My Own Goddamn Poem

by Marie

The loss of the dream leaves nothing the same.

-Langston Hughes

16 months of history, 12 days later.

I'm okay, 'though I've felt better.
I just have the urge to hear your voice,
even if I know we made the right choice.

I broke my own heart, too, you know.

Last year I needed to take it slow.

This time we had no choice - 3 years!

Plenty of time, right, to conquer our fears.

I had you and you were everything;

I'd already plugged you into my dream.

You were nervous but you didn't complain -

I never considered you might not be game.

Kids, piano lessons, soccer practice, picket fence;

I couldn't wait for all that with my prince.

I love you and I know my dream was twofold:

to have kids, and have you, to have and to hold.

You were unsure, but so what, we had time

(not that my "plan" was that you'd change your mind...)

Easily avoided, but then not anymore;

you saw me with kids and you knew I'd want more.

I saw you see me and my hope disappeared.

You just don't want that, it was instantly clear.

Impasse achieved, what choice could we make?

Forsaking a dream would be a mistake.

Such different priorities cannot align,

yet I still want to think that you'll always be mine.

Recap

It's ironic, isn't it, that I spent my summer in love and so happy yet the only record of it here is the angsty buildup and now the tearful conclusion.

Why didn't I write?

(Hell, I barely wrote in my journal. I spent every second of spare-time-to-myself TALKING to him.)

But, let's see.
I didn't want to jinx it.
I never wanted to make a big deal out of it.
I didn't want to sound sappy.

I wish I'd written. Except for the Big Issue That Broke Us Up, which was pretty easily avoided (until it wasn't anymore), we were so happy.

We'd worked out the kinks of long-distance.
We talked soooo much.
He knew everything about my present-day life and was beginning to learn about my past, the things I thought I'd never tell a suitor.
He was starting to pick up on when my attention span was shot and I needed a change of pace. I could tell when he needed to be Aspergery for a while and tell me every detail about something, and even though I'd tease him, I loved it.
He indulged my whims (roller skating! ice cream every day!) and treated me like a princess. I made him breakfast in bed and sent him letters, trying to take care of him, too.
We played board games and he didn't get pissy when I turned into an evil, competitive, trash-talking superbitch.
I squeezed his hand as we confronted one of his biggest fears (an actual place, not anything metaphorical, lol). He'd hold me tight when I was feeling anxious.
I dreamed about spending the holidays with him, spending time with him and my family, spending time with him and my friends. And HIS family, and HIS friends.

I dreamed about spending much more than that with him.

I just never stopped to make sure it was his dream, too.

"Maybe we can be friends someday. It'll just take time."
"'Friends' seems kinda lame after...this."

comment

I have never felt so empty.

Blood

This post starts with an assumption. That assumption is that a 40-something man with no wedding ring who loves Lady Gaga, Glee, and "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is gay...right?

So I went to give blood today. Walking into the private room for the exam, the nurse (word choice?) escorting me commented upon my hat and immediately followed up with, "Did you see Lady Gaga on Dancing with the Stars last night??" I say no, and he clarifies that she wasn't performing, only judging, and starts to justify his love of Lady Gaga--I have to clarify that I do love her, I just don't watch tv. He segues to Glee. "Do you watch Glee? There was an episode devoted to her, and they all had costumes like her, and they sang, what song--" and is thrilled when I name Bad Romance. Back to DWTS--last night the contestants had to dance to "Total Eclipse of the Heart," which he LOVES, and I said, yeah, I really like the Glee cover. Glee? Well, did I know that some of the cast is leaving next year? And can you believe how much the actress they got to play Rachel's mom looks like her? I don't think he believes me when I say that I always thought Lea Michele was a dead ringer for Idina Menzel even before I ever watched the show. More on Lady Gaga, "she just stands out, you know, not like, who was that British singer who died, I'd never even heard of her." I agree that Gaga is certainly theatrical, but admit that Britney Spears will always be my favorite--and he agrees that she is a classic. By this point he's checked my iron and found me ineligible to donate, but sees me off with a grin.

Why does a gay man work at the blood center? Blood donation is very explicitly discriminatory. Despite the fact that HIV transmits through heterosexual contact more than anything else these days, men are not allowed to donate if they have had sexual contact with another man even once since 1977. (And a woman's not allowed to donate if, within the last year, she's slept with a man who's ever slept with a man).

Maybe he wants to contribute, and all he could do--without the option of donating--was get involved? That's pretty noble.

(Yeah, yeah, or maybe that's just where he could get a job, but don't crush my fantasy here.)

Things I have eaten today:

As of 4:28pm:

7:30am
2 dry waffles
Handful of pretzels

8:30am
Handful of peanut m&ms

8:45am
Peanut butter sandwich
Handful of pretzels

11:40am
Footlong Italian BMT sub
2.5 double chocolate cookies

3:30pm
Large quantity of peanut m&ms

...and this is how one gains five pounds in a day.

verbatim

(Please note the tag and the date.)

So sleepy.

I meet him at his place. He says, do you wanna get dessert? and I admit I've just eaten birthday cake. So we go inside, he gives me the grand tour. It's a lovely little studio. We sit on the couch and talk and talk and talk, and it's so easy. As time passes we ever so slowly move closer to each other. Our legs touch. Our shoulders brush against each other. He puts his hand on my thigh and our conversation halts. I try to stammer out my sentence. Our faces are very close. We share the tiniest of kisses, short and soft.

More slow motion. We kiss again, make out a little, and he pulls me on top of him. At this point we have the what are we doing/should we be doing this conversation. I don't remember what our reasons are but we determine it's not the worst idea.

Must sleep. More later. Remember:
-500 Days of Summer
-what do you expect from me

<3 a happy marie

Third-person ftw

She lays in bed, not yet trying to sleep. He's 200 miles and 9 months away but in her mind he's right beside her. Holding her. Whispering to her. Running his fingers over her skin, pausing only for--

She'll never have it back, but right now, it almost feels real.

Her phone beeps, receiving a text. Jolted out of her reverie, she says his name out loud, expectantly. You know, a Jane Eyre moment - she was thinking about him so hard he felt it and reached out to her.

Of course it's not him. She's disappointed that it's not a supernatural cupid, but how could it be? For the most part she subscribes to the idea of "the one," and she never felt it with him. Their love was quite good--amazing, even--but it wasn't supernatural. Divine.

She rolls to her side and he wraps his arms around her, intertwines his legs with hers, breathes "I love you" into her neck. --Her ability to pretend play died at puberty - where did this burst of imagination come from?

Alone, she turns off her lamp and attempts to sleep. 200 miles away, he has no idea that she aches for him; that she loves him still.

Wondering

Is there a point at which an obsessive feeling lasts long enough that the feeling must be legitimate? I feel like mere obsessions burn out pretty quickly.

a little bit possessive, little miss obsessive, can't get over it

On a related note: I have a facebook status all planned out for May 30. However, that's the day after we move, so A) we probably won't have internet access and B) I will probably be too busy to remember to get worked up enough to post it. what to dooooo! ;)

Unrealistic

I build myself up a box of fantasy, shutting out my instincts, shutting out common sense, shutting out advice from those who love me. I crawl in and shut the lid tightly and remain there in bliss for as long as I can. Completely delusional. Eventually reality creeps in and I wonder how I ever believed the lies I told myself, because now their falseness is obvious.

But I don't know how to pop the bubble. I can tell when I bury a thought that I'm building up the walls, but I like it. The box is a very comforting place for me. I can't stop.

I guess the best I can do is not drag anyone else in there with me. Breaking my own heart is nothing new. But I can't invite someone else to my fantasy...

And I feel like, "it's not that my instincts are saying 'no' and I'm ignoring it. It's that I can't tell WHAT my instincts are saying." But they said "no" for months and months and months. Why should something have changed? (Rhetorical question. I have all sorts of justification-type answers, of course.) And I don't know how to break down the walls to get a clear reading.

I just get so obsessive.
I always have.

love love love love love

but

surely not?

Three years

For the uninformed reader, my first kiss was three years ago today. And the whole experience ended up getting really ugly. Yes, I'm nearly 24. I was a late bloomer. lol.

(One year)

And it's so strange, because what happened three years ago is what completely killed off the fairytale, happy ending, true love part of me. I was the girl with zero experience with romance and Disney movie expectations. And that part--that believes that Prince Charming is out there, that not all guys are douchebags, that there's such thing as Mr. Right, and that he'll find me someday--it was instantly gone.

Yet I think I've come full circle?

To waiting for Prince Charming.

I've tried seeking things out on my own and it clearly hasn't worked out well for me.

I really hate to surrender my agency, but this might just be one of those things that's out of my control. Wherever you are, whenever it's right, you'll come out of nowhere and into my life*

And I can't believe I'm letting myself be so...passive. I don't want to be a princess in a tower waiting for a prince, no way.

And I can't believe I'm letting my expectations rise. How can this lead to anything but getting hurt?

*"Just Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Buble--that's the kind of song I, the Marie I thought I am, HATES. Too cheesy, too unrealistic, too head-in-the-clouds. Yet me right now loves it and maybe shares the attitude to a slightly-less-cheesy degree.

and how thrilling that moment will be, when the prince of my dreams comes to me