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.