Mmm. Cookies.

I think last night was the first time in many nights I feel asleep without crying. I did stay up until 1, keeping my mind occupied by reading. And I still haven’t slept through a night but at least I didn’t cry.

Tried to keep calm when driving in to work this morning, but then some jerkface cut me off when I was doing 70 and him 30. WTF, how can I not get mad when someone drives like a complete douche? Can’t help it. I flipped him the bird, he waved and I felt heaps better.

Broke my necklace when I got into the office, dunno how. Let’s just say this Monday did not start off so smooth. So I ate a cookie for breakfast. Love my baking coworkers who desire to fatten us up!

Going back to one-on-one tonight. Need to get the neutral advice, say it all out loud, put perspective on things and talk about my concerns…mostly regarding my self-preservation when traveling. How do I learn to care about myself again before I take off? I can make mistakes at home, but abroad would just be abundantly reckless.

I still feel like I’m living someone else’s life. Is what I’m doing meant for me? It’s as though I’ve misplaced something and as much as I search I cannot find it. There’s got to be something more. I feel like one of those “You’re doing it wrong” emails. I’m not looking for the meaning of life here, I just want to feel like I’m contributing something. Not just waking up, going to work at a regular ol’ company, keeping the house nice, the yard presentable, friends and family satisfied, etc. I want passion for something, I want to do it right. I want to leave an imprint, begin a change.

Maybe Europe will tell me. I’ll just have to listen…and keep calm.

Fine, I Admit It

Okay, so fine I have good days. But I can't stop crying. I wanted to drive my car into the concrete barrier on my way home. But I could only think that my dog had to pee.

I'm so tired of feeling the loss. I don't want to do this alone. Everyone has someone and I let my someone go because I couldn't be his someone. Gawd, just take me somewhere, anywhere I can find my breath and my heart, my soul. Somewhere where I don't want someone to kill me because...please. I just want someone to care. I can't do this tonight. I can't go to bed alone...I know he's waiting for me in my dreams because I've seen him all week. Please. I'm all alone, with no one to hold my hand. No heartbeat, no chest to lay my head upon.

Please. Not tonight. I wish you were here. I can't do this.

At this moment I just want to give up. Never wake. I wish I didn't tell anyone because maybe I'd still have everyone.

I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you. I hate me. I hate me. For tonight...I give up on me. If I wasn't so tired I'd stay awake, drinking until the wee hours, until the sun rose, until tomorrow came. Until someone but me was here. Until I could crawl into your arms; why do I have no arms?

Why?

All About Me

He let me go with the acceptance that I still must have him around; he knows the most intimate and truthful details of the recent. He’s recognized that I require my space to grow and discover while needing the same someone to tell the ugly truth to. How does he do it? I admire his personal strength and his faith in me. I am thankful.

I painted my nails hot pink, I haven’t worn a bright nail color in at least 10 years. I left my house without mascara on, an extremely rare occurrence and yet I still felt like me. I wear skinny jeans now, and am able to embrace my hips and behind. I smiled at myself in the mirror while thinking there’s a way over this. I finally feel like I am beginning to fit back together. I still have a long way to go but instead of saying it, I feel it.

I called you to go out, instead of you calling me. I accepted a lunch invitation. I want to go canoeing, see how we work as a team. I am ready to get things together for my trip. I want to go to a friends’ house and hang out instead of insisting they come to mine. I’m learning to calm down when I drive - it’s the journey, not the speed (although the speed is still fun).

I am ready to do what I want and allow myself to think if it is REALLY what I want. I am remembering that there is one life to live, one life to love. There has to be more good than bad in my future. I am at a place where I will allow it to happen one moment at a time.

I like my pink lipstick and my smile. I like how my face and my soul feel when I smile. I also like the feeling of tears coming from the heart; only because I can feel it now and not think it’s the middle of the pain.

Cooking has become a small pleasure, I enjoy creating things for myself and being successful at a dish.

Mostly, this path of self-discovery has become a positive one. It’s about me, I’m okay with that. I am okay that I need these months or a full year of selfishness; to grieve over the loss of part of myself and to find the new me.

I love pink, pearls, diamonds, French décor, home cooked meals, getting pissed with girlfriends (even if we get in trouble or drunken arguments (haha)), my family, my friends, my dog, most dogs, only a couple of cats, the feeling of giving back, being counted on, being great at something, my independency, adventure, traveling, a great book, finishing a book, basking in the sun as it streams through the window, hotel rooms, team sports, doing my makeup, a perfect outfit, love, new beginnings, memorable endings, salt and vinegar chips with a slice of cheese, laughing, a good cry, hot showers, rainy days with nowhere to be, holding hands, a solid hug, especially when my head lies right on his shoulder or up against his chest, the sound of a heartbeat, the smell of freshly cut grass or someone doing laundry, a clean home, game nights, seeing the mess after a great party and knowing how it got like that, cartwheels, high heels, sushi, sunny days, being outside, smiling.

I love so many more things than I hate. Therefore I love.

The Breakup

MP and I talked last night, I broke up with him. From talking with him I realized, and he didn’t say much, that everything which began to frustrate me about him was my own doing. I wanted him to have confidence but I took that from him. I wanted him to quit asking for hugs and kisses but when, ever, in the last few months have I just given them to him. I want him to be happy but how can you be happy when you’re constantly around someone like me.

I realized, shit I’m going to cry, that I ♥ him and could have fallen in love with him. I immensely care about him. So much. I didn’t stop liking him but, instead, I began to dislike myself for what I was doing to him. I always wanted him to leave me because I could see it happening, I told him a lot which probably made him feel less secure in this relationship. I knew that I made him feel unwanted and disliked by my crying and ability to pull away. I warned him at the beginning that we may not make it past the six month mark because of my history…guess what the 8th of June would’ve been. Missed six months by two weeks. Again. Again my past won.

I need him to be happy so I can stop feeling guilty about taking that away from him. I feel like I’m doing to him what Franco did to me. I never made him feel like a better person, like a wanted person or a happier for being with me person. But I wouldn’t have made it, I know this, through the last almost six months without him. He never gave up on me and always encouraged me, even when I gave up on myself. Because I did, for a really long time. Months. But he was still there.

He said he did so much for me, like make me coffee, pick me up from the bar, etc. I told him that he could’ve done that a 100 times over but none of it would have compared to the night he sat outside the shower while I cried because of the things I heard in group, the things I confessed and the things I remembered.

I need him to be happy. Be confident. Be whole. If he were to stay with me until I fix myself I only would’ve ruined him more.

I’m an asshole. I fucking ♥ him.

No Room For Doubt

Single or not. Single or not. I don’t know where to start. Try not to judge me based on this entry.

I miss the single life. Not having to worry about how your actions are affecting another person. Feeling content with sleeping alone. One less person who has the ability to cause you hurt and disappointment.

I took him back and I feel…not the greatest about that decision. I haven’t forgiven him for walking out. I’m worried because he walked out so easily that I don’t know when it’ll happen again because, let’s face it, if it’s that simple it’ll probably happen again. I feel as though he’s put less effort in since I took him back and now I’m questioning my position in this relationship.

What am I waiting for that will let me know which step to take with him next? Essentially it has to be a step forward because I’ve already got one foot out. Do I accept being content and not wildly happy with my man?

The song I can’t shake out of my head, and which causes me to reflect on my “now”, is by Lace - I Want a Man.

Singledom doesn’t scare me. In fact I embrace it. If and when the man who I can’t live without comes along I’ll happily take on life with him.

I know what to do, I just don’t want to and you can’t make me until I’m ready.

Clouds Are No Match for a Fire

I’ll let you back once. Last time I ended it again two days later. I find it almost embarrassing to accept someone back. I don’t know if that’s weird or normal, but it’s how I feel.

Sometimes I don’t think we can have normal conversations. I want to have conversations with you, about whatever. I’m just getting tired of the negative. Now I am worried and threatened by you. You walked out so easily last time that I doubt your intentions and feelings. You say you want a future with me, sometimes I think you just want a future with what I represent or represented. A house, a backyard and a car. A good job. Great family and friends. Independent. (I can’t recall what any more of my good qualities were.)

I don’t think you want a future with me. My reality. My person. I am not only independent, but fiercely so. I’ll only ask for help with fixing something because I know it’ll make you feel good about yourself; needed. I like my alone time. I am turning into a liberal feminist. I want positivity in my life, like I used to have and be. I don’t support racism, sexism or any other “ism”. I don’t like complainers or people who have a constant need to put others down…even people on t.v. It’s tiring to be around. And annoying. Be concerned with yourself and not others. Unless they’re wearing really bad pants or shoes.

I require more of a balance. Between you, my friends and my family. In no particular order. I enjoy sleeping alone equally as much as I enjoy sleeping with you. I like a glass of wine at night. I love walking when I’m drunk…enjoy the adventure of it.

Speaking of adventures: I love a good adventure. Doing something new. Even something out of character. If I could afford more, bet your ass I would do more. Like fencing, skydiving, bungee-jumping. Random road trips. Crazy/weird invitation acceptions.

When I’m wealthier I will entertain my friends in fun and/or strange ways.

As I make more of an effort to go out, and after you initially left me, I can see more of me peeking through all of the clouds I’ve been living under. Just you wait until I’m back. Watch out because I promise to rarely be at home or a home…unless it’s outside with a fire pit.

Failed. Again.

MOG, I am so tired of taking one step forward and two back. I can’t believe it didn’t work out again. Again. More nights alone. No guaranteed embraces at the end of a trying day. No one to protect me from the dreams. No one to confess how hard it was to. No one who understands. Now I have to go at it alone again. Figure out how to console myself when I just feel broken and terrified. I don’t want to do this anymore.

But at least now I can run away, should the opportunity arise, and not think about hurting someone else. I can pack up and go. I can stay away. I can grow into myself knowing it is myself and not someone else. I can refocus. I should lean on my strength, learn how to covet that first. Maybe I was just using people too much, using their kindness until they got too close. This is what I deserve.

I’m not afraid of being alone. I’m afraid of always feeling the hurt and misery of the past.

Next time I do not want to bring this cruelty of FG into the next relationship.

I shouldn’t have done this now. Not to anyone. I really need the comfort, but I can’t stop thinking of FG and relating him to every guy. I need to let FG go, I need to move on. I need something new for myself, and not a person.

What do I do now? How do I get through this evening after group, knowing the emptiness I’ll feel, the memories that may surface, the fear of sleeping tonight, the pain that’ll come after, the hurt for the other women. Who’s arms will I cry into?

I need to cry, I shouldn’t be at work.

The Time is Wrong

I know that in my relationships, both past and present, there is consistency and not the good kind. You say I’ll end up lonely, I reply with that’s not a fear of mine. Well, not yet and not for a while. My fears are much different than yours. I prefer “loneliness” to pain.

I’m sure someday I’ll want a family and all that kind of shit, but right now I just want to make it through the days and focus on restoring myself.

I do not think of a future, I think of the present. Why do I have to see the future, who’s in it or what I’ll be doing? I’m not a psychic.

I do not need a void filled, I only seek friendship and maybe one who I’m lucky enough to “fall in love” with. I want a companion, someone to share laughs and life with. Someone who will complement me and agrees that being negative isn’t worth the effort (a quality and thought I used to have and am fighting to get back).

I do not want to have serious conversations in bed, that is not the place for them. My bed is where I relax and try to let go of my day and thoughts.

I feel as though I have this all wrong. Am doing it wrong. The time is wrong.

You all want feelings, when right now I am protecting myself by not feeling.

"Will I Live?"

It started off big. There was no undercutting of my confidence or my person before. Six months of a regular relationship; dating, flirting and generally getting to know one another. Then the momentous moment which forever changed who I am. A knife to my throat and a moment of wondering “Will I live?”. “Will I live through tonight?”

Those were my admissions last night in group.

They asked what I did in the moment (1). They asked how I excused his behavior the next day (2). Here are my answers to both:

(1) I hid. I hid in the washroom. I hid within myself. I curled into a naked ball against a couch. I hoped. I hoped I would make it. I hoped it would end. I ran. I ran upstairs and not out. I ran away from him. I ran into the arms of his friend when someone finally came home. I hid. I hid in his friends room, in his friends clothes for the rest of the evening. Until sunlight rose, I hid.

(2) I do not remember excusing his behavior. I recall him apologizing and looking chastised for days. I believe now that I mentally and emotionally got through it by being in shock and staying in shock for 7 years. By not remembering and choosing to let it go. Could the trauma of someone you “love” having the power to kill you be too much for a girl at my age then? So much that you just let it go and carry on?

More and more comes back. I did not remember until last night thinking, during that moment, of whether or not I would live. Seeing it written down was shameful, I blushed when I said it because I was embarrassed. I looked at it once during group and never again for the rest of the evening. I could not.

I now need someone to come back with a story similar to mine. I need one of them to admit they wondered if they’d live. I crave it. In a weird way I feel it would complete me, though it probably would not. There’s an emptiness in my soul that I somehow need to fill. I just haven’t found with what yet.

I think that’s all you need to know for now. I think that’s all I can write without disappearing for today.

Reclaim the Lost

Last weekend started off with feeling like I no longer belonged to something I loved. Still love I guess. The rest of the weekend I fought to make my place again, I don’t think I 100% found it but I started to look at least. I, for once, knew what I was doing and even though the friendships/relationships have fallen to the wayside I’d got the conversations started again.

I worked myself to exhaustion. I hurt all over. I had a sense of accomplishment.

Now we’re back to Wednesday and MP asked me this morning if I thought the group was good for me because it has left me ragged after. I don’t know yet. It’s hard, it hurts and it’s scary. I dread Wednesdays more than Mondays. Wednesdays make me tired and nervous. Being in that room with the others takes me back to a place I’d rather never go again physically; which isn’t to say it’s less callous on my psyche.

I was watching Biggest Loser last night. This girl hugged her dad and I wept for a friend. KS, there is nothing anyone can do to bring your dad back but you know he will never really leave you. Every word, shared moment and memory are for you and him now. When you need to hug him just take a bit to remember anything about him until the corner(s) of your lips turn upward instead of down. I wish you a healed heart. xoxo