Goodbye

One thing I hate most about dating is the part where you say 'goodbye'. Obviously, as you date someone, you get to know them. You become more and more apart of their life. You are apart of the ups and downs of someone's life. You laugh together, have inside jokes, you're even naked together. 

It seems that no matter if I've been dating someone for 2 weeks or 2 years, goodbye is never easy for me. It feels so final. There's a sadness within me about it. I feel like I'm mourning a loss. A loss of hope, a loss of what could be, a loss of a life of possibility with that person. If it's someone I really like, I think about what our kids would look like. I say my first name with their last name in my head. I imagine how they would fit into my family, and I in theirs. 

But when 'goodbye' happens, eventually that person will become nothing more than an acquaintance, a memory, someone you used to know. Most times, they become a stranger. We're taught not to like strangers. Those things you dreamed about seem ridiculous and crazy. You can't believe you ever even saw that person in that way. Doesn't this idea feel so sad to you? 

Last night I said goodbye to someone I had been seeing off and on for 6 months. I hadn't even realized that much time had gone by. And again that same sadness and mourning came over me. It really wasn't about him. I knew he wasn't right for me. I knew that he would never change. I never felt like I could truly be myself around him. I was constantly trying to be what I thought he wanted. And he...didn't seem to try to do anything. It seemed to me that I was just a matter of convenience for him. I realized that I hate the feeling of being convenient more than I hate goodbye.

So I told him that he was fake, and that he made me fake. He didn't seem to like that very much. So our goodbye was a mutual thing I suppose. It still feels sad though. 2 people who don't believe in giving up gave up...on each other.

This is why I'm single. 

We weren't broken

I have always loved writing poetry. I don't consider myself exceptionally good at it, but writing in general is a big outlet for me. Most people don't know that about me. I have found that my best work happens when I don't try so hard to use fancy language, but just real words. Normally, a phrase comes to me and I use it over and over again and write my other feelings around that common thread. Tonight I wrote the poem below. Again, I don't consider myself a genius, but it's simplicity speaks to me.

We Weren't Broken

We weren't broken. 
Where'd you go?
Why'd you leave?
We weren't broken!

I stepped and then
You stepped and then
I fell
But we weren't broken
Just mending

My Return

I'm returning after quite a long hiatus. I haven't been un-single, just away from my desk.

I'm still single. Still dating. Everything in my life is pretty much the same as it has been for the last several years. The faces might have changed. Some of the details have changed, but my life is still basically the same, honestly, since I was 20. That was when I moved here. 8 years ago.

I will say that my heart is different. Someone reminded me of that the other day when I said this to them. 

I know I'm stronger than I was 8 years ago. I'm smarter. I'm more loving. I'm more honest. I'm more forgiving. I'm more accomplished. I guess if you look at it that way, I am more. 

Anyway, I've decided to make some changes to this blog. I've decided that instead of being funny, I just want to be honest. That can sometimes be funny. And sometimes not so much. 

The truth in this moment is that I'm on the mend. I just had my heart broken for the BILLIONTH time. I'm confused and frankly scared of becoming desperate. Nothing is uglier than a desperate woman. I am by no means desperate for a date. I go on plenty of dates and have never struggled to get the attention of men. However, though some say I've become a serial dater, I am truly looking for someone to spend my life with. I'm looking for passionate, all-consuming, inconvenient, crazy love.

In the meantime until it comes my way, I'm busy dating. And looking under every rock and hiding place for love. That might be ugly and not funny. In the middle of it, I'm learning how to let go of it. I'm learning how to be ok with the idea that it might not ever happen. I'm learning to be strong. And being strong in this situation means not becoming bitter, not losing hope. No matter what.

Raaaaaaaandy!

I just went on an amazing date tonight. I'm not sure what else to say except that he seems to be the quintessential guy who I would follow into a gator-filled abyss instantly if he asked me to.

I kept trying to read his body language. His body language said he was guarded and not liking me at certain points, but texted me the following, "No matter where this would take us, you truly are one of the most...ideal women I've ever met." I'm not sure what that means, but I think it's a good thing.

Our conversation was good. We seemed to have a lot in common. I don't want to over-analyze into oblivion, but I like him.

This throws a real kink into my plans. I didn't plan on liking anyone, damnit...


Best of all, we both speak fluent white-people ebonics.


This is why I'm single.  

Played

And here I am. That girl that's broken up with. Again. This time really knocked me on my ass. I'm so confused, more confused than ever. What did I do wrong? He says I didn't do anything wrong. He said he just didn't see a future with me. What? I understand that, but I don't believe it. He said he's scared of me moving to Hawaii and him hurting me. Aren't we all scared in love? Is it 'love' if it's not somewhat scary?

I just don't understand why time and time again, I end up back here. Starting over. Over and over and over. It's not that there aren't men. Plenty of men are interested in me, but rarely do I find someone who provokes me to love. Against all the odds I let him in. He let me in. I have no doubt about that. Everything was fine between us. What happened? Literally, one minute he was leaving me a voicemail telling me to have a great day, and the next he was breaking up with me. He acted cold and nonchalant, like I was a random girl or something.It was infuriating.  

More than anything I feel like a fool. He was the serial dater, the guy who never got too attached. He was my "Mr. Big." I felt lucky to be that girl. I know all women secretly desire a love story, not just a guy. At least I do. But all of my love stories have me coming up looking like an idiot for believing him. I told all of our friends how much he changed. Many friends didn't believe he could be different. My own brother thought I was just getting used. Turns out they were all right. I'm just a fool who fell in love with a fool.I'm one of those girls. Ugh.

I wondered for a long time if he was just using me I until he was ready to let go of Colorado. I wondered if I was just in his life because he was lonely. I pushed it out of my mind because I was in love. Love trusts. Love risks. I was willing to do that.

This is why I'm single.

sigh of relief

Ok. My attitude is fixed. I just needed a freakout week to adjust to this whole thing. I've decided to focus on what's in front of me. Enjoy my life here, and allow him to make his home 2,500 miles away. That's all he's doing. He's lonely and experiencing a new life. I need to give him his space.

I sound completely ridiculous. Like one of "those" girls I can't stand. The ones who over analyze every little thing and smother men to death. Bleh. I hate being that girl. I hate knowing that girl. Haven't we all been on both sides of that fence though? It's so weird how love can make a person completely insane. Or at least completely insecure.

I was talking with a friend the other night who was explaining how our feelings stem from our beliefs. He asked me about my core beliefs and what they were concerning these feelings of insecurity. I haven't figured it out yet, but I have been chewing on it.

Last night Boo called me late after I had been out and about drinking. We were both tipsy, and he was at a restaurant. He proceeded to tell me how these girls hit on him and invited him to a bar to hear some live music.

(He's kind of a "Mr. Big" in the sense that there are these moments where his heart is completely open and emotion and compassion flow freely from him....but mostly he is guarded and afraid.)

But, because we were both tipsy, I thought it was a good time to gently tell him how I was feeling. I told him that the past week really seemed like he was finally settling into Hawaii life and forgetting about me. That's when it hit me. I'm not scared about him finding another girl. I'm scared that the only reason he's talking to me now is because he doesn't know anyone else in Hawaii. Of course, having no filter, I said all of these things the moment they came to my mind. Fortunately for me he proceeded to lavish me with praise and tell me I was all he could think about. He also validated my fear a little bit by admitting he was settling in, but lonely. I was a good mixture of honesty, lamentation, and sweetness. He finished it up by telling me he loved me....unprovoked. It really was just what I needed. After we ended the phone call, I felt like I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

...Maybe this is for real.

Now I can stop all of this craziness and go back to laughing. Hopefully, though, this is my season to laugh with love instead of at love.

Damn it.

Damn it. I said I wouldn't do this. I said I could live with an "open relationship." Hell, I think it was my idea. I don't think we really have an open relationship or anything. In fact, I'm not really sure what we have. But it was working for me. I wasn't too attached. Now all I can think about is getting my ass to Hawaii as soon as possible.

The reason I didn't want to commit to a man who lived 2,500 miles away is because I didn't want to be wondering what he was doing when he wasn't answering the phone. I didn't want to be thinking about where he was, who he was with, what he was doing. In general, I don't worry about those things when it comes to men. But tonight is the first time I got sucked in. My thoughts are running wild.

Last night he said he was scared he would hurt me. He said that whenever he gets too close to someone, he finds a way to screw it up. I am exactly the same way, but I decided this time I just wouldn't do that. To be honest, I was dating other people. (nothing serious) After this weekend, I was ready to give it all up for him. I think I was actually ready to commit to him. Now this. It's not funny anymore. I'm not laughing. I'm crying. Is this what commitment is? Being scared all the time? Feeling insecure. I feel like I have put my heart in the palm of this person's hand, and I'm scared. Really really scared. Damn it.