At least that's what I keep telling myself. It's a reunion of sorts. Hi guy who broke my heart. How are you today? How has life been since we stopped sleeping with each other? Please keep it superficial. I don't want any indication that you've moved on...not ready for that just yet.
This meeting is for closure. Did you get that memo? This is the day where we reminisce on good times, skim over what went wrong, and talk about how we're glad that we can be friends. After all, we got to know alot about each other and it would be a shame to let that go to waste. Except that I still want to love you...
Excuse me? Oh no, I didn't mean to say that out loud. I was just thinking to myself that I don't want to be your friend because I wanted to love you. It seems impossible to look at you as a friend because wouldn't that mean that eventually we would hang out and scope singles together. You used to hold me. I can't forget that. You used to kiss me. I don't want to forget that. Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm having trouble maintaining eye contact. You said my eyes were always honest. Don't look now. They'll tell you how hard this is.
I know it's over. It's been over for a while. That's what today is about remember...sealing the ending. But why are we really here? Who won't let it go? And more importantly, why not? Oh, I bought you something for your recent accomplishment. That's right, so it's me. But you wouldn't let me give it to you when it was right in my hands three weeks ago. So it's you. I mean that means you wanted to see me again, right? Why? I think we're both as confused outside of this relationship as we were in it. I mean you canceled our reunion once and i canceled twice. (I always like to one-up people that make me feel vulnerable) I think tomorrow we'll do it...end i mean. Officially.
I agreed to this? That was a bad idea. I'm nauseous now-how am I supposed to go to work afterwards? You're a guy, you'll swallow once and reset the program. You're probably not even nervous now. Shit, why did you agree to this? I've always been a glutton for melodrama...let me find out we're more similar than i thought. Better yet, don't let me find that out. I'm working on reasons to forget about you, not give you another little piece of my heart (now baby)...
Maybe you'll cancel tomorrow. Maybe we'll get another few days to pretend whatever we're pretending until it's real. Maybe we'll be grown ups and get it over with. There's a part of me that's done enough mourning to feel like I'm ready to move on. The woman in me that can acknowledge that that which is not healthy has no place in my life. But the other part of me, the one that can only focus on getting that "old thing back"-well she understands Third Eye Blind:
"I want to get myself back in again/the soft dive of oblivion/i want to taste the salt of your skin/the soft dive of oblivion/oblivion"
Oblivion never sounded so beautiful as it does tonight. But I know I'm not a fool and we have to do this, so guy just remember to stay superficial. Do it for me.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Adventures in Mommyhood
On Sunday my son shit on my floor...twice. Today he is running around partially naked slamming his yucky toddler butt on my sofa. He is almost 3 and should be well on his way to potty training. However, it appears I'm not that lucky. I have a son that hates diapers, loves being nude, yet refuses to attempt potty training. I have too many stories that begin with "I don't know why he keeps peeing on my floor". I've purchased pull-ups, favorite character underwear, potty seats, lollipops for treats, etc. Frankly, I'm tired and did i mention that my son shit on my floor...twice. After the first year of life, toddler poop is really adult poop, so picture that...on my floor...twice. Too gross.
I made him help me clean it up (safely of course) and his simple response was, "Mommy, this is yuck". Kid, you just made your first understatement. I've tried to take him to the bathroom every hour. I've given him "you're a big boy and big boys use the toilet"speeches. I've read articles. Nothing is working. And yet, he is obviously uncomfortable with wet or soiled diapers because he tears them off as soon as they're no longer 'fresh'. Is he going to wake up one morning and decide to use the toilet or am I going to be telling his first girlfriend stories of him soiling himself at 7 years of age? *Deep Sigh*
But is there a such thing as parental peer pressure? Because to be honest, he's my first child and if he still doesn't want to potty in the toilet it doesn't bother me that much. That is, until it comes up in conversation. You know-THE conversations-the ones in which everyone talks about what their kid is or isn't doing. Now, I love to tell the "And then so & so said, 'Mommy, i think the dog is shyyyyy"...because really when your 2 year old uses the word shy correctly, your chest automatically swells.
But then you have to sit your ass back down, when the conversation goes like this:
Person A: "Is he potty trained yet?"
Me: "No"
Person A: "And how old is he?"
Me: *Insert mumbled "almost 3" here*
Person A: (Disappointed slow nod)
Because all of our children's accomplishments are because of us, their failures are also directly our fault. What? That's not how it goes? Okay, pretend that's not the unwritten rule if you want, but then why do you feel bad when someone questions your kids' weird scratching? I mean really, why does your kid scratch himself like that?
Nevermind, I digress.
My point is that I don't like when my son soils my floor with bodily fluids, but I don't know how to change it right now. And i don't want to feel bad about it either. It's gross, but it's far from the end of the world. And I wonder how he feels. He's only been alive for two years and eight months and now I want to change up something very routine and sacred to him-the diaper change. I'm damn near 26 years old and I still get ornery when I don't have lunch between 12pm and 2pm. Imagine how I would feel if someone told me I had to start using the bathroom upside down or something. Change is hard...for all of us. So I guess, FOR NOW, I can relax a little and just really, really pray I never find poop on my floor...again.
I made him help me clean it up (safely of course) and his simple response was, "Mommy, this is yuck". Kid, you just made your first understatement. I've tried to take him to the bathroom every hour. I've given him "you're a big boy and big boys use the toilet"speeches. I've read articles. Nothing is working. And yet, he is obviously uncomfortable with wet or soiled diapers because he tears them off as soon as they're no longer 'fresh'. Is he going to wake up one morning and decide to use the toilet or am I going to be telling his first girlfriend stories of him soiling himself at 7 years of age? *Deep Sigh*
But is there a such thing as parental peer pressure? Because to be honest, he's my first child and if he still doesn't want to potty in the toilet it doesn't bother me that much. That is, until it comes up in conversation. You know-THE conversations-the ones in which everyone talks about what their kid is or isn't doing. Now, I love to tell the "And then so & so said, 'Mommy, i think the dog is shyyyyy"...because really when your 2 year old uses the word shy correctly, your chest automatically swells.
But then you have to sit your ass back down, when the conversation goes like this:
Person A: "Is he potty trained yet?"
Me: "No"
Person A: "And how old is he?"
Me: *Insert mumbled "almost 3" here*
Person A: (Disappointed slow nod)
Because all of our children's accomplishments are because of us, their failures are also directly our fault. What? That's not how it goes? Okay, pretend that's not the unwritten rule if you want, but then why do you feel bad when someone questions your kids' weird scratching? I mean really, why does your kid scratch himself like that?
Nevermind, I digress.
My point is that I don't like when my son soils my floor with bodily fluids, but I don't know how to change it right now. And i don't want to feel bad about it either. It's gross, but it's far from the end of the world. And I wonder how he feels. He's only been alive for two years and eight months and now I want to change up something very routine and sacred to him-the diaper change. I'm damn near 26 years old and I still get ornery when I don't have lunch between 12pm and 2pm. Imagine how I would feel if someone told me I had to start using the bathroom upside down or something. Change is hard...for all of us. So I guess, FOR NOW, I can relax a little and just really, really pray I never find poop on my floor...again.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Linger
But I'm in so deep/You know I'm such a fool for you/You've got me wrapped around your finger/Do you have to let it linger? (Linger by The Cranberries)
I did it again. The one thing I didn't think I could. Didn't think I'd want to do. Hell, I really didn't want to and it happened anyway. I loved again.
Let me be clear. I don't really know how it happened. I dated a guy on and off, healthily and unhealthily, with labels and without them for almost 8 months. I couldn't understand why I cared about every interaction, why I missed laughing with him, why I was struggling once it was over and why the prospect of dating other men made me nauseous. And then my girlfriend said it so non chalantly, "Well, I guess it would be a lot easier to get over him if you didn't love him". I am not exaggerating when I say I cursed that woman out and laughed like a madwoman. "Love who? Him? Hell no. I don't love nobody but myself and my baby. Are you crazy? What do I have I have to love him for?" And frankly, once you start rambling and your grammar falls apart, you know you're full of it. It's over and you've lost this verbal battle.
I was a mess. I love him? I love him? I love him. How did that happen? How many times did we laugh together before it happened? How many future plans did we share before it happened? How many family history/war stories did we swap until it happened? Was it when I slept over? Was it the hugs or the kisses? Was it the fact that we had a good chance of having a dark skinned little girl with green eyes...don't ask, but scientifically it was true! And worse than this discovery, was the ugly truth staring at me mercilessly. We weren't even together anymore and the chances that HE loved ME were slim. So as if loving someone again, against your will, after being hurt on multiple occasions, was not enough; I wouldn't even be able to count on having that person love me back. Excuse me while I jump off the nearest NYC bridge. This is ri-damn-diculous.
Now if you're like me, you might also find it difficult to find the point in loving someone who can't/won't/or just don't love you back. I could lie and say that I sat with all these emotions and tried to figure out how I felt and what I could do with these feelings (positive things of course). But I love to swim in this river called DE-NIAL and instead I pretended my friend was crazy and I had sense in my head. I went out that weekend with a bunch of friends to celebrate a major accomplishment for this man, exchanged some laughs, had a few drinks (on an empty stomach) and by the end of the night, proclaimed my love for this man...to this man. Now ask me a simple question like "How did that happen?" and I'll say "Hell if I know, I don't remember". As if me falling in love was not a betrayal enough, my poor empty stomach couldn't handle my drinking and allowed the alcohol to create what I like to call "holes" in my brain. In one of those holes lies the whole conversation in which I thought it would be a good idea to let the "ex" know I loved him. I completely understand what Pink meant when she said she was a "hazard" to herself.
Long story short, he told a mutual friend about it...twice. This mutual friend attempted to clean it up by saying that I had a lot to drink and probably meant "love" like we all love our friends. Kisses and hugs to the friend who tried to clean up this disaster. I do not believe with any ounce of my being that the ex believed it though. Luckily, I could depend on one of his worst flaws to be one of my greatest saving graces right now--he hates confrontation on any issues of importance. And hell, love is pretty important. So I could depend...i could bet...on him not asking me about it directly and thus live a semi normal life thereafter.
I've seen him since then and to be honest, we're supposed to "have lunch" this week. Somehow I get the sense that a one on one lunch date versus the group at a BBQ venue (the last time i saw him) will be slightly different. I also get the sense that I will have trouble making eye contact. Or will he? I mean, what's it like to have someone love you and not feel that back? Is it at least flattering or is it damn uncomfortable? Can't say I've been there and if I have, can't say that I knew.
I sometimes ask myself why bother with all this...there has to be a better way of getting over relationships. Why can't I wake up and wish all the emotion away? Why can't I reason with myself, "Self, this ship has sailed, save yourself"? Why can't I get angry, cry, break some shit, and breathe, knowing that it's all over? Well, as I've been reminded, they can't even cure the common cold yet. So frankly, if you're looking for answers over here, I've got nothing for you. All I know is that once upon a time, I loved a man so deeply that when it fell apart I routinely cried the mascara off my face everyday right before work. And now, I can count the amount of times I think about him on a daily basis using two fingers (both middle fingers mind you).
And so all I know is that loving someone that doesn't love you back is far from the worst relationship souvenir you could keep.
And loving someone after you've been hurt is a sign that you haven't been defeated.
Oh yeah...and while falling in love is out of our hands, staying in love is a choice and so no matter what, this too shall pass.
Let's just hope it's before the next BBQ ;-p
I did it again. The one thing I didn't think I could. Didn't think I'd want to do. Hell, I really didn't want to and it happened anyway. I loved again.
Let me be clear. I don't really know how it happened. I dated a guy on and off, healthily and unhealthily, with labels and without them for almost 8 months. I couldn't understand why I cared about every interaction, why I missed laughing with him, why I was struggling once it was over and why the prospect of dating other men made me nauseous. And then my girlfriend said it so non chalantly, "Well, I guess it would be a lot easier to get over him if you didn't love him". I am not exaggerating when I say I cursed that woman out and laughed like a madwoman. "Love who? Him? Hell no. I don't love nobody but myself and my baby. Are you crazy? What do I have I have to love him for?" And frankly, once you start rambling and your grammar falls apart, you know you're full of it. It's over and you've lost this verbal battle.
I was a mess. I love him? I love him? I love him. How did that happen? How many times did we laugh together before it happened? How many future plans did we share before it happened? How many family history/war stories did we swap until it happened? Was it when I slept over? Was it the hugs or the kisses? Was it the fact that we had a good chance of having a dark skinned little girl with green eyes...don't ask, but scientifically it was true! And worse than this discovery, was the ugly truth staring at me mercilessly. We weren't even together anymore and the chances that HE loved ME were slim. So as if loving someone again, against your will, after being hurt on multiple occasions, was not enough; I wouldn't even be able to count on having that person love me back. Excuse me while I jump off the nearest NYC bridge. This is ri-damn-diculous.
Now if you're like me, you might also find it difficult to find the point in loving someone who can't/won't/or just don't love you back. I could lie and say that I sat with all these emotions and tried to figure out how I felt and what I could do with these feelings (positive things of course). But I love to swim in this river called DE-NIAL and instead I pretended my friend was crazy and I had sense in my head. I went out that weekend with a bunch of friends to celebrate a major accomplishment for this man, exchanged some laughs, had a few drinks (on an empty stomach) and by the end of the night, proclaimed my love for this man...to this man. Now ask me a simple question like "How did that happen?" and I'll say "Hell if I know, I don't remember". As if me falling in love was not a betrayal enough, my poor empty stomach couldn't handle my drinking and allowed the alcohol to create what I like to call "holes" in my brain. In one of those holes lies the whole conversation in which I thought it would be a good idea to let the "ex" know I loved him. I completely understand what Pink meant when she said she was a "hazard" to herself.
Long story short, he told a mutual friend about it...twice. This mutual friend attempted to clean it up by saying that I had a lot to drink and probably meant "love" like we all love our friends. Kisses and hugs to the friend who tried to clean up this disaster. I do not believe with any ounce of my being that the ex believed it though. Luckily, I could depend on one of his worst flaws to be one of my greatest saving graces right now--he hates confrontation on any issues of importance. And hell, love is pretty important. So I could depend...i could bet...on him not asking me about it directly and thus live a semi normal life thereafter.
I've seen him since then and to be honest, we're supposed to "have lunch" this week. Somehow I get the sense that a one on one lunch date versus the group at a BBQ venue (the last time i saw him) will be slightly different. I also get the sense that I will have trouble making eye contact. Or will he? I mean, what's it like to have someone love you and not feel that back? Is it at least flattering or is it damn uncomfortable? Can't say I've been there and if I have, can't say that I knew.
I sometimes ask myself why bother with all this...there has to be a better way of getting over relationships. Why can't I wake up and wish all the emotion away? Why can't I reason with myself, "Self, this ship has sailed, save yourself"? Why can't I get angry, cry, break some shit, and breathe, knowing that it's all over? Well, as I've been reminded, they can't even cure the common cold yet. So frankly, if you're looking for answers over here, I've got nothing for you. All I know is that once upon a time, I loved a man so deeply that when it fell apart I routinely cried the mascara off my face everyday right before work. And now, I can count the amount of times I think about him on a daily basis using two fingers (both middle fingers mind you).
And so all I know is that loving someone that doesn't love you back is far from the worst relationship souvenir you could keep.
And loving someone after you've been hurt is a sign that you haven't been defeated.
Oh yeah...and while falling in love is out of our hands, staying in love is a choice and so no matter what, this too shall pass.
Let's just hope it's before the next BBQ ;-p
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