This hasn’t been the easiest week for me.
This has been, instead, a week for learning about myself.
For sticking up for myself and what I believe in.
I won’t be sly about this. Not coy. I’m not going to beat
around the bush. For the last year, I’ve had what could be easily stated as,
“Bad luck with men.”
I’m well aware of that at this point.
I’m not asking for pity or sympathy on that subject. It’s
not something I need; I am more than capable of being alone and being happy
about it.
But that’s not what made me pick up this pen. That’s not
what made me grab a beer out of my fridge and find a way to struggle with the
words. I’ll fight valiantly with them tonight instead.
I’m not a perfect woman. I’m brutally honest sometimes,
frustrated with little things other times, I annoy easily, and I trust far too
much in words.
When it comes to being interested in someone, I generally
trust them to be honest with me and to mean what they say.
Perhaps I’m simply far too gullible when it comes to those
kinds of feelings…
Or I’ve just been a fool for the last year to actually take
a shot at rediscovering that part of my life.
…. That sounded bitter. Let’s rephrase.
I’m tired of the bullshit. I’m tired of boys saying they
want to date, or that they’ll make time for me certain days and bailing at the
last possible second, or others being in my face at events, or even others
saying that after years they want to try again.
It’s just not been simple. And that’s what I’ve always
believed in… a simple, old kind of love. The kind that lasts despite the stupid
fights, the frustrations, the mistakes, and the little issues.
Just as much as I want to be alone, I want the opportunity
to have that kind of love in my life.
I’ve fallen out of love before. In my opinion, it is one of
the worst possible things that can ever happen to you. Just as the bliss in the
beginning is, the end is just as emotionally wrenching, painful, and
terrifying. A numbness falls, and then the anger, and then the worst part: the
part where you surpass numbness and the memories replay themselves in your
head, and in the end… you just feel empty.
That emptiness has made me ache before.
You try to find ways to fill that bleak part of yourself,
and you latch onto things that you should not, and you attempt to reclaim some
part of that happiness that you had… despite the pain that it will likely cause
you later.
It never helps.
That’s the point I’m at now. It never helps, so I’m refusing
to begin to believe in that kind of method anymore. Fine. It didn’t work out.
Again. Fine. That’s fucking great. Of course I’m upset. Of course I feel hurt.
Of course I wish I could rewind two weeks and start over just so I wouldn’t
feel cheated again.
….
I am not a perfect woman.
I swear probably a little too often.
I want to spend as much time as possible with the person I’m
dating for one main reason: I’M HARDLY EVER HOME. It likely sounds needy to
some people, but then, I’m not trying to be needy. I’m trying to spend time
with the person I like before my travel schedule takes over every week I have
for the next month, or even two.
I’m a ginger. I’m feisty. Angry, even, sometimes. I can be
selfish about my wants at times, but I also want every one else to be happy as
well. I’ll go out of my way to make sure they’re happy too.
I’ve made mistakes that I simply cannot take back. I can’t
take back what’s happened in my life, so I’m not going to regret it. Instead,
I’m going to say, “That will not happen again.”
But I’m tired of feeling angry about things not going well
with someone.
I’m tired of investing that much of my precious free time
and emotions into someone that ultimately leaves me feeling remarkably
unfulfilled.
…
Damn.
Damn.
This last time hurt.
I didn’t want to say that I was upset. I didn’t want to seem
needy. I didn’t want to be frustrated. I didn’t want to feel negative in any
way because this time, I actually really liked this guy. I was trying so hard
to do it right and make sense of it to myself. Why the ever-living hell did I
meet this guy that made me pause, and why it have to get blown up?
Why?
Then there is the other part of me that’s just pissed.
The part of me that’s like, “well if he really cared, he
wouldn’t have canceled,” or “why say what he did only to let me down?” I worry
far too much. I also bristle very easily.
This time, I wanted to be patient and figure it out in my
head, but I also wanted to be shown that I wasn’t just any other girl. That I
was special to this person. That they wanted to make the effort in the way I
wanted to.
Because I don’t just wake up every day and meet someone that
I’m interested in in that way. It either takes time for me, or it’s one of
those moments that makes my heart race and makes me wonder what’s around the
corner with that person.
What’s waiting?
What will happen in two weeks? Three? Four? Who knows after
that.
One day? Two?
…. I feel cheated out of a good time this go round.
I feel that I’m silly and ridiculous, and I feel harsh and
worn thin. I feel a little sad about it this time.
Previously, I didn’t even feel sad in the end. I just felt….
Blasé. I wasn’t uncomfortable in the end that it didn’t work out. I was just
kind of like, “whatever, clearly this was a silly idea.”
….
I know that everyone who influences our lives also
influences how we look at life. I know that every ex I have had has taught me
some immeasurably important things about myself or the world around me. If it
weren’t for one ex, I doubt I’d be the craft beer loving woman that I am today.
I also wouldn’t be as sharp as I am today.
I just don’t know how to explain the swarm of thoughts in my
head right now.
It’s a hurricane of self-doubt, self-assurance, some weird
form of guilt, anger, frustration, self-rebuttal, shame, exuberance,
self-empowerment, and who knows what else.
I feel conflicted. I don’t like that feeling. Often, I’m so
damned bloody sure of myself that I can even talk myself into believing what I
say. But tonight? I’m definitely not so sure of myself.
…
This last week has been rough. I started wary, but happy,
went to angry, frustrated, and feeling cheated. Then, last night, I felt
unsure. Today, I am still feeling very skittish.
It’s likely why I am holed up in my apartment right now demanding
to myself that, “I will spend the whole next day alone.” It’s why I’ve been
quieter today. It’s why I’ve allowed myself to feel exhausted. It’s why I feel
almost entirely transparent from emotional sandpaper.
…
My worst trait is likely my inability to admit when
something is wrong. I don’t like being seen as weak. I don’t like anyone
thinking that I may be incapable of doing something. It is my worst trait
because, for some reason, I can’t ever work up the courage to tell people when
something isn’t going the way I wanted/expected/hoped for. I’m awful at giving
up at things. I’m worse at admitting it.
It’s a terrible trait. Because I end up lying just as much
to myself as others, and I often believe the word vomit I spew out. Or, in
fact, I truly end up forcing part of myself to accept it as some sort of truth.
I like having a companion in my life for this reason: I tell
that person how I’m really feeling more than most. There are things I could
talk about to that person that I wouldn’t even begin to tell my parents, and
even sometimes, my best friends.
I’ve been working on that. Trying to be honest in how I’m
currently feeling. So I don’t hurt my friends’ feelings for not letting them in
on the loop. So I don’t upset my family when they find out that something has
been bothering me for a while. Instead, I’ll tell you now if I’m exhausted, or
if I’m annoyed, but it’s still hard for me to tell people if I’m sad or
disappointed in something/someone/myself.
…
Hmm.
I don’t really know what else to think, or say, when it
comes down to it.
I wouldn’t say I’m feeling lonely. In fact, right now, I’m
really enjoying being alone in my apartment with nothing else going on.
Listening to music, laying down on my bed, and being lazy.
I would say, instead, that I’m only going to wait for the
right thing to come along. I don’t just believe the pretty words men say now. I
want their actions to reflect, instead, how they feel. Which, this time, it became
pretty obvious to me just where I fell on his totem pole… and it sucked.
…
I’m just going to keep giving it time. Just keep on living
my life and enjoying how everything else in my life is going remarkably well. Remember to tell myself to only walk on my own two feet.
…
What do I want? What a loaded question. But, I think I know
the answer right now.
My hammock, a few beers, and time alone. So, here I go…
Cheers, all.
No comments:
Post a Comment