I watch his wildest dreams come true..not one of them involving you.

I suppose it’s time for an update…

So much has gone on in the past little while, I don’t even know where to start.

I guess I’ll start will school: School is pretty much never mentioned in my life without a word that would make a nun slap me with a ruler included somewhere in the sentence…
It’s brutal…mostly because I’m so burnt that I can’t think, I slack, I question my work, and I’m at a point where I wake up in the morning and dread going…I’m looking forward to the placement, and the piece of paper, but getting there is the tough part.  I also think I’m slacking because in some masochistic way, I don’t want to graduate…The real world scares me…But, I will graduate, I will rock, and I will take on the world and be a huge success.  So there.

I’ve recently moved(still sort of moving) down the street and into a house with some friends…it’s awesome, it’ll save me a gagillion dollars in the end(ok, maybe not that much…) and I love the people I’ve moved in with to death…this including my man.  Yes, we’ve taken the official step and moved in together…

It’s scary but I mean, it’s a logical step in life…I guess I had to settle down eventually, right?  And I finally found someone worth settling down for.  Someone who accepts me for who I am, and someone who can fully be himself with me.  He’s never been able to truly be himself with anyone until me, and that makes me melt on so many levels.
I love him with all my heart.  He’s my rock, my lover, my best friend and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him.  It’s to the point that I can’t WAIT to spend the rest of my life with him.

So I guess the point of this post, is to thank someone.  A thank you to a bitch who made me miserable, who made him miserable, and who fucked with us endlessly.  Thank you for driving us together. Thank you for being such a cunt and making us realize that we were worth fighting for to each other.

You were a means to an end.  You’ll be getting a thank you note on our wedding day.

It’s Only Life

My, how time flies.
It’s been a while since I last blogged..and I realize that’s becoming a pattern: sporadic blogging.  Maybe that’s why I feel a bit off…the lack of writing.

Life. Good ole fucking life.  I swear somewhere, the powers that be are snickering and plotting the next twist in my life.  It seems that nothing can ever happen normally to me.
Mind you, I don’t really mind.  Life would be boring if I didn’t have to fight my way through the whole damn thing..I dig myself deep and scramble to find a way out.  I know I’m not the only one, in fact, one of my closest friend’s and I had this very discussion earlier today.

I’m not complaining about what life has thrown at me this time.  I’m just amazed.
You know that feeling that you are always the last to know about something?  I had that feeling last Thursday, when in a drunken stupor I blurted out the dreaded “L-word”.
Yes. I said it. The “L-word”.
My closest friends have been telling me it was there and that it definitely wasn’t one sided.  I refused to believe them, saying that I had things under control and despite the mutual caring, it was not love. 
Everyone knew before I did.
Granted, I was drunk. Very drunk.  Drunk in the sense that I could not gauge the distance to the floor, and I also left a very nice splatter on the ground behind a restaurant, and in the sense that I have a haze surrounding the whole night and fail to remember the whole thing.
Granted, he was drunk, too.  But, he said it back.

The next morning, while still drunk we had a hurried discussion before my ride left to go out of town for a bachelorette party, and I assured him he could still take it back.

The next day, we spoke on the phone, and I again, assured him he could take it back and that people often say things they don’t mean they were drunk.  He then asked me if I wanted to take back.  I didn’t.  And neither did he.

Now for the twist and the reasons for godly snickering.  We are both terrified of this “L-word”, we are both terrified of being in a relationship, and worse, we both don’t want to think about next July.  Next July, I move away, I have wanted to move to this new town my whole life, and come next July, it’s the perfect opportunity. 
But that was before him.

Part of me wants to stay. And the other part is beating the part that wants to stay with a stick and demanding that I go.  Again, a dilemma.  Again, a hole I’ve dug myself into.

He’s only a boy.
But he’s the boy I love.

Clarity.

After receiving a slew of questions regarding my last post, I figured I should clarify a few matters.

It’s funny, I got about ten million congratulations on jumping the gun and being in a relationship, and also people wondering who this guy was and so on.  I also found out through the grapevine that others have read my post and assumed that I was suddenly in a relationship.
Also, it makes me laugh that people who have proclaimed themselves as being done with me and staying out of my life, find it in their time to go about reading my posts.  I’m an open book, so I don’t care. I just think it’s funny.

Now for the clarification portion of the evening:
1 – In no way does “seeing” someone mean that I am in a relationship.  It means that we are exploring our options, enjoying time together, without commitment.
2 – In no way does “having it bad” for someone dictate the dreaded L-word(you know the one…that evil word).  I am not in love, nor am I falling in love.  I like him.  I do like him a lot, mind you, but that does not mean love. 
3 – We’re not dating, nor will we ever date.  Circumstances won’t allow for anything substantial, and we are both aware of that, and totally okay with it.  We’re playing things by ear, and have both told each other that we want nothing to do with a committed relationship.  I will never call him my boyfriend and he will never call me his girlfriend. (Except for those two times, we decided to date, woke up the next morning, looked at each other and pretty much laughed, calling the whole thing off.)

I’m allowed to have my fun.  I’m allowed to see someone without the “relationship” being scrutinized and analyzed under a microscope.

PS: Stop reading up on me.  You said you were done with me.  How about acting on what you say?

The Rules of Perspective: Part 3

I didn’t realize that letting go would hurt this much.

I had a good thing going, but as usual, “good” doesn’t last long in my life.

It was a complicated situation, more complicated then it should have been, and unfortunately it took me longer then what would have been preferable to realize just how deep I was getting into it.

I was starting to fall for this guy, he’s an amazing person, but apparently he’s just not right for me. Why? Because he makes me happy but I’m clearly not enough for him.

I realized I was falling for this guy, and decided to call it quits. I won’t be heartbroken again.  The situation was too much for me to handle, I wish I was stronger, but I’m as weak and pathetic as I’ve always been.

I think I’m scared of being happy. But I’m more scared of fighting a lost cause and having my heart broken again.

I suppose things just aren’t meant to go well for me.
Maybe one day I’ll work through my issues and find a guy or girl who has worked through theirs. 
Maybe one day there won’t be a psychotic ex waiting to rip my hair out, and beat me with whatever is within their reach.
Maybe.
I doubt it, though.

It’s funny how I’ve forgotten what heartbreak really felt like.
I forgot what it was like to be so tired and not be able to sleep and lay sleepless with my thoughts in my bed for 6 hours (even though I had enough meds in my system to knock out a horse). 
I forgot what it felt like to cry to the point of getting sick.
I forgot what it felt like to cry myself to sleep.
I forgot what it felt like to wake up to a wet pillow because I’d not only cried myself to sleep but probably continued to cry in my sleep. 
I forgot what it’s like to get aggravated at the slightest reminder.
I forgot what it feels like to hate myself for being so stupid. 
I forgot what it felt like to be so angry with the world, but mostly with myself.

I forgot what rebuilding walls felt like. 
I had so many emotional barriers that had been not only broken and passed but disintegrated completely by his words, and the trust I placed in his hands. 

It took a while to get the walls down but only seconds to rebuild.  At least I can still do that.
They’re back up, and my faith in the male gender in terms of “relationships” is close to zero again.

I think it’s funny how hurt I am by the end of “nothing”.

Bring on the beer.  I intend to get ridiculously hammered and get reckless. Forget everything.  Be stupid.  Get mine.

The Downfall of Whispering

There’s something to be said about being soft-spoken. But there’s more to be said about speaking THE FUCK UP!

In the past few days a few things have been said to me in whispers, and I mean, let’s face it, my hearing isn’t that great.  I may have misconstrued some things that were said, I may have misheard some things that were said, or I may have, to my chagrin and over-analytical mind, heard exactly what I thought I did.

I don’t know. Things seem to fly into my life and turn my world upside down, and leave just as quickly as they came in.  I’m hoping that my stupidity doesn’t force all the good things out of my life, like it has in the past.
I also hope, that I can stop hoping, this whole “looking on the bright side/hoping for the best” thing is not my style, and unfortunately I’ve adopted the attitude in the past few weeks.
I think I’m losing my mind, I hoping for something that I can almost guarantee is impossible, I’ve naively blocked out signs that I should have seen.

I should have known better.  I just hope it’s not too late.

I also hope I’m being delusional and over-thinking matters again, and that everything is in my head, and things are still wonderful.  But then again, in my experience, it’s a waste of time to hope.

 (I also have a 104 degree temperature and have passed out twice today. Joy. Oh, well.)

The Rules of Perspective: Part 2

The unexpected always seems to take me by storm.

When unexpected things happen to me, they aren’t little things, they are amazing and/or horrific, considerably extravagant, ridiculous events that spiral my life out of control.

As passionate as I am about randomness and spontaneity, I like to know what’s coming most of the time.  I like to plan, analyze, classify, and re-analyze just about everything.

I’m beginning to see things differently.  I wish I could stop classifying most things. Some things are better left unclassified.

I’m stressed, I’m scared, I’m ridiculously happy in certain moments.

What worries me is that I don’t understand it.  But that’s because I over-think everything. Maybe there’s nothing to think about.  For the first time in my life, I’m trying to not think.

One day at a time. Here I go.

The Rules of Perspective.

Damn.