Past the infatuation phase....

"Falling in love is the beginning of all wisdom, all sympathy, all compassion, all art, all religion; and in its larger sense is the one thing in life worth doing."

I have thought about his over and over again. Reworded it. Deleted it. Saved it as a draft. Why have the words become so hard for me to share? Am I afraid of who will read this and what they will think? Maybe. But I think I am more afraid of actually writing it down. It will be embellished on here, to remind me daily of my lack in faith. How different things would be if I had only never mirred my perception of how love was by marrying young, like I have. I thought love could conquer all. But it doesn't. Not at all. What a sad lesson to be taught by life. So yeah, here goes. The post that never gets posted, God help me.

I love you. You know this. I know this. But seriously, where is this going? I know we should take it one day at a time. But I have always been a person who has to know what the other person's intentions are. It's just how I am. I just need to know if what I feel is genuinely something that is worth being hurt for. I don't expect marriage. And I'm not giving you an ultimatum. I just want to know if you feel like I do about us. I see a lot of good things in you that make me want to actually pursue a meaningful love relationship. And if things don't work out, well, I hope we can actually be friends. You are such a good person, and have showed me the gentler side of love. A side that I always dreamed of, but never truly knew for myself. Next year, you get out. Are you still going to leave? Am I going to stay in? I don't know. I never wanted to stay in this area. It's detrimental to my health and to my son's childhood. He needs places to run and grow. Things to destroy. Backyards to play in. I can't give him that here. I want him to be in Texas. Near his father and my family. He needs them. Just like I do. I mean I don't need his father, but I want his father to have a good relationship with him, as I am sure you should feel the same way about your son, too. So how can I make it work with you? Do you see? I don't want to sacrifice another part of me for anyone, EVER again. And I'll be the last person to ever ask you to do that for me. I know relationships are about compromise. Give and take. But I don't know if I am willing to do that again. I gave up a lot and received nothing in the past. So, what can I do now to guarantee it wont occur again? I know this may seem like I am throwing all this at you so quickly, but I don't want bullshit or games. I want real. And I think you do, too. So, what's next? Take it one day at a time, until next year? And then what? I am terrified. I am opening my heart to you. Becoming vulnerable when I said I wouldn't ever again. Yet, here I am. Contemplating things I had vowed to never consider again. I feel so much confusion, despair, regret. Yes, I do. Why? Because love complicates things. It makes things different. Blurs them, blinds me, burns up relationships. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for worse. Till death do us part....lol...Oh, my, oh, my. I want romance. Chocolate, roses, commercialized love. But it's not like that. Marriages aren't like that. Real relationships aren't like that, I understand this. Life constricts it all. Bills, kids, dogs, houses....all that. It makes it fade. Blows the fire out. I know this. I think you do, too. The blossoming of a relationship is awesome. You get to know each other. You feel alive. You feel like you are burning from the inside out. You are hyperaware of everything. Every sensation is illuminating, inspiring, intriguing, and intoxicating. But that doesn't last. Even if you try. You get comfortable! The novelty wears thin, and then it just wears out. Then you just become the comfortable sneakers, or hat that you can't part ways with because of the history together. Even when there are better, newer shoes or hats there that could fulfill your needs just as well. Do you understand what I am saying here? I just don't know. I'm scared. Like a little kid. I just want to be happy. To be on the right path towards that happiness, whatever that may be. It's like this, okay? And I want to make you happy. Because you make me happy. But that's not the only reason why. Because I love you! And I want to make you realize that down to core of your heart. So even if you have placed your heart in my hands, and I have been afraid of it, I will still accept it as the best gift I have received, lately. I just hope you don't run too faraway when I hand you my heart. Wait, it's already in your hands. And you're still here. WE are still here.

So I'm running away to you

I started slowly, gradually. It was good. No, it was electric. The weather was beautiful. An awesomely Perfect day. I got absolute silence. Only my breathing and the sound of my footsteps to accompany me, as I traveled through the air, cutting it with my body. And then when the weighty silence filled the air, it began. The sound of insecurity knocking at my door, ever there and constricting. The trees silently mocking me with their whispered shudders as they trembled with the wind. The sound of fat, pregnant clouds birthing their refreshing rain children on my face. The rustle of discarded fall leaves as they crawled accross the way. Crunching, crackling under my weight. Crying out for one more time to crawl, before being crushed beneath my shoes. I could smell the fragant winter smell. Crisp, clean like a freshly starched shirt. Winds enveloped my body, carressing and hugging my curves gently like a newfound lover. Breezes brushed my lips like soft, forbidden kisses at midnight. Only the sound of my persistent breathing resounded in my head. Rushing in and out of me in a strangely familiar way. How comforting to feel the life being sucked out of me in quickness, once again. Memories, nostalgia tinged the air, giving it a bittersweetness like my once favorite candy, Spree. I remembered things that I have chosen to place into my hidden box of memories. Things that hurt and stung. Happier times, harder times. I remembered it all. I ran away to you. To your embrace. The warmth and comfort of yesteryear. The constant in my hectic pace. To your ocean eyes. I fell into them. Swam in them, drank their gaze in with my mouth. I thought of you and your buttery skin, your beautiful hands. I thought of your feathery hair, the feel of your heart beating beneath me. The amazing way I can feel your life. I made the pain to my white light, to run away from. The light that darkness and doesn't illuminate me. The trees shook and cried out in agony, as did I. Inner tragedy flooded my heart. It is always me who cries, who can't be happy. The manic depressive girl. I thought of all this as I ran away to you, as the trees laughed, my body cried, my breath became shorter, my footsteps became muffled, my tears mixed with my sweat. And the wind kept embracing me, how I wished you would.

Life's a sorry schoolroom sometimes....

Dear Life,

Hey, it's me again. You know the one who always curses you and badmouths you when you get too dificult. The one who never thanks you when you grant me what I desire. Yeah, that's me. I know we have been through a lot in the past couple of years, and I have tried to take it all in stride. But I feel like I were drowning in my own sorrows, and I don't know how to deal with it. I know yesterday I cursed you for making everything so frustrating, and I want to apologize. Please understand that those harsh words were said out of anger. They weren't meant to hurt you, so before you dump a lot of unwanted bumps and curves in my life, I want to say I am sorry. I shall try to be a better person, just give me another chance. I am still sort of new at all this, and I know I have chosen my own path. I'm not going to make excuses for any mistakes I have made, that is the power of free will working it's mojo. I have wanted, when you would not give. I have wished, when you would not grant. I have struggled, cried, and hurt all the way to where I am now. And I only hope that next time I get a fair warning, before you start twisting my life back into disorder. I know that may be too much to ask for, seeing as to which I have always been a spoiled brat, and I may not deserve it, but I have always been an apt pupil, and I shall learn well enough soon. I am frustrated and tired. Worn down to the bone. My flesh does not protect me any longer. The tears have erroded my skin away, and that is all of my own doing. But you have tested me, and I have not yet been given my results. So have I passed? For I could not bear another failure. This beaten heart shall truly give out. I have experienced pain and loss. But I have learned to appreciate joy and happiness. So maybe that is the lesson you have taught me. Hopefully, I shall be a better person, mother, friend, sister, everything that I am to everyone. Just give me another chance. I promise to try to be better this time around. I wont curse you anymore.....okay, I mean more than once a day....is that okay? I'll try my best, that is all I can offer, at this point. Give me the strenght and faith to continue on this journey you call life.

-Yours eternally-
Nancy

P.S.: Take care of all my loved ones, don't be as harsh with them as you have with me. Thanks once again!

Fantastic Fornicational Bliss

In times when one can become overindulgent and lazy, it's so difficult to have self-control. It seems as though I have forgotten what it is like to not have much. I forget to appreciate things and be thankful for all the goodness that is given to me. I live a blessed life. Not an easy one, but still blessed. My child and I have our health, a roof over our heads, food, clothes, and each other. I have a job, that always pays me. I have a stong family bond, and I also have a wonderful "boyfriend" (just cause I'm not in High school anymore I feel weird calling him a boyfriend..or lover or whatever...he's just mine, dammit!). He treats me better than I have ever been treated. Randy makes me feel loved, in a way I have never known, but always wished for. This was the thing that was always missing from my life. I did not feel whole, until now. I feel as though my life has purpose and meaning. I'm not just another single mom in the military. I'm Randy's love. And he is mine. It is wicked to be able to feel that. When we are together I can't keep my eyes of him, much less my hands. I love the electric current I feel when we touch. Oh, yesterday he bought a bed. Just for us. It's cute. I know he should have put it in his apartment, but I guess he figured I wouldn't wanna stay over there, with Gabe and all since I have his room and everything else at my place, so he decided to put it in my place "for storage"...isn't that awesome? It was nice to actually have room to move around on. It was the first time that we actually were able to have some space, and get crazy...lol...even though we really didn't. He is the best. At everything. He just is awesome. I am addicted to him, and everything he does. I want him with me always. I want to feel him, love him, hold him, fuck him, make love to him, kiss him: do everything all the time with him. I want to give him me completely, whole. Maybe that makes me overindulgent in love. But I can't help him. I hope my feelings never fade for him. For he is everything I have dreamed of and more. He is good to Gabe, and great to me. He is just what I have needed all my life. Happiness, wholeness, the end of my line to make a complete circle. I told him I would blog about his magic stick...and well he does have one. He is out- FUCKING- standing. I totally lucked out! When he comes around it's like he is the sun in my sky. The center of me. He just illuminates my heart, and lightens my soul. I feel so good with him. He makes me feel so damn good. It's addicting. No wonder I can't help but wanting him all the time! It's just he's sooooooooooo delicious! *sigh* He surprises me everytime..all the time. You'd think this shy boy from B.F. Ohio wouldn't really know what to do, you know? But man, was I wrong. He gets me going quicker than you can say, "Done"...and makes sure that I'm happy. Ugh, I can't wait to have him again. I couldn't imagine ever being with anyone else. I am glad I found my equal. I am soooooooooo fuckin' lucky. I don't know what I did to deserve such a great person, but I sure am glad that I did. I love you, baby.....and your cock......lmao.......*muah*

My Paper Heart

At times I feel as though I haven't been able to feel. As though I were numb. It seems like sometimes you can feel so much emotion, that your heart just blanks out...like a live death but to emotion. I don't know how else to explain it. It's odd. I found that picture and just felt compelled to use it, because it is how I actually feel. I place my heart outside of myself. To protect it or maybe for it to be ripped to shreds, I don't know. I have put myself out there for a few people. Opening up, letting them in, making them the owner's of this land. Now, I will say feel free to explore, I don't mind. Just as long as you know that I am the true owner of this land. I always will be. I have been in many's arms, but never actually held in a safe embrace. Never had someone that held me and made me feel like I was the only other person on this planet. Until now. He makes me have the "warm and fuzzies" when I see him. He kisses me and I just melt. He touches me, I get goosebumps. When he looks at me, he sees past what I look like and looks into my heart. It's awesome and I recommend everyone run out and get their own personalized Randy. He is just everything I have ever asked for and more. Plus, we get along great, he gets me without me having to have him understand. He just knows where I'm coming from and why I am the way I am. Just like I get him, too. It's great! I am so thankful for meeting Randy. He makes everything seem worth it. Makes the tears, pain, and disappointment feel right, because I can now understand what it is to have something good to appreciate and to cherish. I hope I can make him half as happy as he makes me, I think we'll survive. He is just too wicked to actually describe in words. How does one actually describe an emotion, a feeling, something that isn't concrete, solid...like the earth? I don't know but I just know that I can actually say, I am happy. Truly happy. I have 2 wonderful men in my life to keep me occupied. What?! I love Gabe, he's always been my lil' man...and I love Randy...he's my real man.

Embarassment to last a lifetime....

I happen to have a little Prince, and along with that title not only is he a charmer, but also a little butthead sometimes. My petit prince decided to make feel like I was going to have a wonderful day today. He was sweet, cooperative, talkative, and actually listened to me (and Randy) this morning on my way out to work. He even assisted in dressing this morning, which took me by surprise. I mean, last night, he ate all his dinner without me having to ask him repeatedly, like every other night. He actually managed not to get spaghetti all over my house (yay!), and was rather cooperative during bath time. He feel asleep after only 2 stories, and didn't wake up all night. So with all this awesome behavior, I thought, hey I get paid tomorrow, I'll buy him a couple new toys, as a sort of thank you, for not making me feel like a jackass parent. Well, I had already planned the trip to Target after work, but as I was driving on base, my lil' prince decided to start crying, which is fine. I don't mind if he cries. It's when he wails and makes a scene at the daycare that I get irrate. Now, now. I couldn't possibly spank him in front of anyone. But he was bitting, scratching, kicking, spitting and screaming as I try to calmly carry him (a 36 lbs kid doing that plus diapers in my hand..nice!) inside and check him in. The lady at the front desk gives me that condescending (sp?) annoyed look. Yes, I realize my son was out of control. Yes, I realize it is my parental responsibility to control him. But no, I don't need your stupid glances at me, as I was exasperated and tired. Do you think I wanted to deal with him being like that? NO! I wanted to be home in bed (or couch) and be sleeping. I have been working for almost 2 straight weeks, I'm learning how to be a single mom, and I'm just tired. I'm so frustrated. I don't know how to control a 2 year old. This is so difficult and I just feel like I'm drowning in responsibility that I didn't sign up for. I'm at my wit's end. I'm so embarrassed and I feel like a total ass. I know I'm young, I know I'm hispanic...so people sterotype me, and think, "oh, there goes another mexican girl with a brat she can't control." Well, you know what, assholes? I was fucking married. It didn't work out. And he used to be a VERY well behaved child. He's getting used to me again. Believe me, this will not happen again. I just don't think I can let him piss me off like that. I seriously wanted to just beat the livin' shit outta him! I know my fuse has been short with him. I forget that he is only 2 sometimes. There are urges that he doesn't know how to control, yet. But it's just frustrating to me. Everyone get judged. Especially parents. We get judged and gauged by our children's behavior. My son's behavior this morning would mean that I am a bad parent, who just let's my kid be a brat. Which is not true. Everyone who knows me, knows that I am pretty strict with him, and that I don't let him just run around like a hooligan. Maybe that's where I'm going wrong, and why he acts out when he gets out. So what do I do? I feel like this is the hardest thing I have ever done, and I suck at it, so it is discouraging. I know I'm not the first single mother, who is barely making it. I realize that. But I don't have this network of family or good friends here like I did in Texas. I need that, now. And I really don't have that. Save for a few close people who help me, I'm doing this almost completely on my own. And it's so hard. I just want him to have a better childhood than I did. I don't want him to feel oppressed or unloved. And I'm not trying to buy his heart, believe me. I'm much too broke for all that nonsense. But I want him to understand that there are acceptable behaviors, and what he did today definitely was not one of them. Well, I just wanted to vent. Before I have a heart attack about it. So I just wanna give hella kudos to all the single parents out there. Please know that you are not alone. My kid is driving me insane, too.

Rose Colored Kisses

They are sweet and kind. And remind me of rose oil that I used to wear in high school. They stick to my heart, and caress my heart with tender, soft petals outstretching and touching me in a warm, silky way. How comforting it is, to feel these. To feel the life inside, like the empress I wish I was, they remind me of the lifeforce behind everything. These kisses are rose colored kisses. The color of happiness. Of innonce, of new found love. Kisses I've never tasted before, but yet so familiar to me. The kisses that haunted my dreams, and whisked away my nightmares. Someday they may wilt and die, just like roses, but still ever lasting memories of those once satiny petals brushing accross quickly shall be left. The sweet smell, pungent almost, that is captivating and intoxicating. Like an alchoholic who needs one more drink to survive, I shall wish for one more kiss before I leave. They are the life force, that keeps me going from my fantasy with you. They make the edges fuzzy, and surrealistic. How I could live off your rose colored kisses. These kisses that melt away the heartache that was once there. The sadness is vanished, and only the rose colored kisses remain, in it's absence. Stealing a glance into me. Do these rose colored kisses wish they could melt on my lips? Do they long to be there when it is cold and lonely out? I hope so, for I long for them to once again warm my heart and soul. How I have awaited for rose colored kisses. And now I have them. I shall never let them go.

Why I fell in love, in the first place....

First off this will be my list of all the reasons why I have fallen, and will remain in love with Randy. He is the person I dreamt of being with when I was a girl. And now I want to have a list of all the amazingly, wicked things he does....

• He brought me flowers for no apparent reason, even though he
  hates real flowers because they wilt and die.
• He tells me I'm beautiful, and means it.
• He tells me he loves me, and means it.
• He accepts my anal rententiveness about everything.
• He knows that I come with Gabe and accepts it.
• He kisses me and makes all my troubles melt away.
• He is super gentle with me, and knows that I'm fragile!
• He sends me emails at work and posts blogs about me...*sigh*
• He gets my sense of humor.
• He has a sense of humor.
• He understands my shyness and thinks it cute.
• He doesn't undermine my parenting authority.
• He cleaned his apartment just so I could come over.
• He cleaned his van just so I could sit in it (which I haven't yet!).
• He listens to me bitch about everything and doesn't complain about it.
• He tells me I'm not fat, even though I know I am.
• His touch gives me goosebumps.
• He holds me all night long, when we sleep.
• He stays up and talks to me before we crash for the night.
• When I ask him what he is thinking, he tells me, even though I hardly return the favor.
• He makes love to me, and makes me feel like the sexiest woman on earth.
• When we kiss, he smiles and looks into my eyes.
• He is realistic about love, and knows that I like to take it slow.
• He doesn't make fun of my clumsiness.
• His sweetness makes me want to cry out of joy sometimes.
• He fixes things in my house without me asking.
• He makes me feel safe and loved.
• When we are together at work, we both are beet red, and it's cute.
• He took a chance on me, and I'm glad he did.
• He gets pissed, but doesn't take it out on me.
• He lets me bite him and doesn't complain, too much.
• His eyes are incredible, and he looks so sexy with his glasses on.
• He is honest with me.
• I am the first hispanic woman he has been with.
• Mrs. Sprinkles loves him.
• He likes my cooking.
• He talked to me when I was gone, and didn't forget about me.
• He freaked out a little bit when I said, "I love you" first.
• He lets me bum his smokes, when I'm too lazy or broke to get my own.
• He doesn't make fun of my arm fat.
• He doesn't mind sleeping on my small couch with me.
• He still kisses me when I have morning breath.
• He waited for me for 2 hours after I got off work, and was late to a party for his friend, just so me and Gabe could come along.
• He let Gabe make a mess in his van!
• He took care of Gabe when I had to work and my babysitter bailed on me.
• He accepts my honesty and can tolerate my bluntness sometimes.
• He likes my cheesecake (and how I eat it).
• He bought a bed for us to sleep in, and put it in my apartment.
• He waits for me to eat.
• He made me dinner, and it was good.
• He likes how I cook.
• He doesn't think I'm annoying.
• He gives me options and choices instead of making all the decisions for me.
• He knows how I play around and can take a joke.
• He holds me while I'm sleeping, even if I do try to get away, and tease him.
• He loves me, really.

Insecurities

It's odd, how you can feel rather insecure about yourself and be so self doubting, yet be confindent in certain abilities you may possess. I suffer from this oxymoronic way of a life, my thoughts are ever contradictory and seriously bittersweet. I'm rather nostalgic of the sweet innocence that I lost once I "grew up". I miss being a kid. The freedom it ensures: in thought, word, opinion, and dream. I miss it. I see my son. He doesn't see me as a woman, but as his mommy. I'm here to change his diapers, provide chicken nuggets on request, refill his apple juice, and put in the Zoe's Dance Moves DVD at will. I am here to tuck him in at night, to attack him with the tickle monster, to pick up his toys and put him in time out when he doesn't obey me. I am this life force to him, ever constant and non changing. He doesn't see the wrinkles, varicose veins, the stretch marks, scars, blemishes and "flaws" that I have. He just knows me as mommy. Why can't the rest of the world be as non-judgemental as children? Whom judge us by words and actions and not on appearances? I miss those days. I do it, too, so I guess I can't really complain when people do it to me. I judge people, but I try to give them a chance. I force myself to look past the standards of beauty and have met some of the most loyal, awesome, and just down to earth people this way. Had I been a stuck up haughty bitch, I would not have cultivated some of the friendships that I have. I try to see past the exterior, for that is not the whole of a person. I know that! I get judged on a daily basis. People assume I am a certain way, and once they get to know me they are surprised that I am not like that, at all. I don't consider myself pretty, or good looking even, I think I am plain and that's it. I am not perfect. I think I am overweight. My skin breaks out easily, all over. I have stretch marks and varicose veins and I am only 22. My hair has so much gray in it I have to get highlights so people stop pointing it out. I am hispanic, so I'm just naturally hairy, and it's not blonde...yeah I know, gross! I have a plethora of scars on my legs, hands and elbows. I think my chest is too small, and my ass too big. I hate the way my belly jiggles, and no matter how many sit ups and running I do, I can't seem to make my thighs or my stomach get smaller. I think my arms are too buff, almost manish. But then I think, the world can go ahead and judge me on my looks, but I will continue to be a good mother, I try to be a better soldier, I shall become the sister, aunt, friend everyone wants. I know how to make a person feel good about themselves. I'm good at that! Because I don't want anyone else to feel as insecure about themselves as I do. I am constantly pinching and sighing and bitching about my body, and how I wished I was something different, better, prettier, overall happier. Isn't that sad? That this society makes us think that if your not blonde, blue eyed, thin, young and basically gorgeous, that you fall short of being good enough. That you have to and try to be something that God didn't want for you? God wanted me to be pale, brown eyed, mousy haired, and hairy. And that's what I am. But I can't lie and say I didn't try my hand at trying to be what our society accepts as beautiful or "hot". I can't fit the mold. So where do I go from here? Where do the imperfect people go? Is there a place for people like me, where we can be accepted as we are and not be judged for our looks, but for our hearts and minds? I haven't been lucky enough to fins that place. But I try to make it my home. My escape from the bitter reality, that if you're not the American ideal, you can never live the "American Dream". I don't want my son to grow up with that mentality. I want him to have a pleasant childhood, without ridicule for being different, but acceptance for being able to stand out, and be something better....greater...than the ideals this society has built. I wish his future doesn't have the same insecurities and lack of acceptance as mine has. I thought when I grew up and joined the Army, that I would blend in. Not stand out. I thought it would be a safe place to hide, to be green and not yellow, or white, or brown, or red. To be equal. But I'm not. And that is the realization I have made today. This sucks!

No Ordinary Love

The richness of a new love, is intoxicating. I feel like a drunken fool, carrying on, almost making a merry mess out of myself. I feel alive, everything and it's beauty is ecstasy to me, and the actual conviction of all that surrounds me is quite frightening, in a madenning sort of way. I am not saying that the beauty of the season is making me feel like I am in love, for I am, with someone who I treasure and cherish for being true and realistic with me. I suffer as an idealist, but also am a realist and it's a terrible combination. Let's stop and analyze what I mean by this. I am an idealist, I want fairy-book tale style love. The whole princess, damsel-in-distress thing, though I am not a princess. I am a mother, a soldier and a woman, all rolled into one little mexican. This is how I am a realist. I am a sigle mother, an independent form of parent, existing on loneliness and on my own accord. I don't have to depend on a man to bring home the bacon, so to speak. I only have me, and my son only has to look at me to know that I am on this earth to guard him and to protect him, for that is my job...as a mother. It's odd how, all of a sudden you can go from succumbing to all this pressure, to feeling like you have the weight of the world magically lifted off your shoulders. All with the gentle persuasion of a new love. It's hard to deny an emotion. It is even more difficult to acknowledge it. To become vulnerable to something that you can not guarantee. I feel alive, like I have taken my first real breath. I was drowning and now I am flying, soaring high on love, and the emotional aspect of a relationship. I feel like someone out there accepts me as I am, not with rules and restrictions, but completely, the whole of me. And it's WICKED! So here goes, I shall place my bets on lucky number 20.....lol.....I love you.

For the Romantically Challenged, like me

I wonder if I should just give up nowadays! I feel like I always make the worst choices when it comes to picking mates. I tend to put on my Rose colored glasses and try to deny the bad characteristics that they may possess. I tend to pick the same type of person repeatedly...possessive, jealous, psychotic, overly-dependent and insecure men. It's hard to know how people really are. There is the good parts that we show most of the world. Us on our good behavior, proper manners, good looks, clean and all. But then there is the real par of us. The one that has bad habits, may be dirty, or what-not. It's odd...I feel like I have not had one functioning, good relationship. I hardly talk to all my exes, as we finished on bad terms...Even with my ex husband, it's odd talking to him. I feel uncomfortable and outta place. Like I never really knew him, just an image of him. Or what I wished he could have been. It's funny how you can live with someone for a long time, and not even know them very well. How it's almost retarded that you can be married to someone for almost 3 years and never really know them, or who they were...Isn't that insane? Am I the only one who is in shock of that? I played pretend for almost 3 years and I learned that from now on I wont compromise myself for another man. They either take me as I am, or get the fuck out...simple, I think. So this is my bitching blog, about being romantically challenged. For not knowing how to function in the single world that is trying to date and all...Will someone hold my hand before I get lost, again?

Homecoming, to myself....again...

So is it odd, to feel alone when you are surrounded by people? I have been on the verge of depression and no matter what wondeful things may happen in my life it seems as though I can't help but fight this feeling of submersion. I am reluctant to continue seeing my therapist. I know she means well, and some of the stuff we discuss are true issues that I have to deal with and I know this. But to be made to feel as though I am this abused unfunctioning person, is rather daunting. And I hate being the victim here. Yes, life has been hard and pretty crappy. But that is how it is for some. I am trying to learn how to cooperate and be a good citizen and be an even better parent than mine were. I never blamed my father, but he is also at fault. He neglected to stop the abuse, so in turn he was also responsible. At least he has apologized. My mother, well, I am not fond of her. She is everything that I hope not to become. I see myself becoming her, nonetheless...and it is quite frightening and maddening. How could this all happen? Where did it begin? When will it end?

I don't think I can rely on my mind to be healthy and stable. When there is silence and I begin to think, it becomes my weapon. Silently mocking me, making me over analyze things in a manner that is almost embarassing to discuss. It betrays me and tells of what I have suffered. Like my heart, which I tend to wear on my sleeve. My old and weary heart. The one who doesn't believe in love anymore. I used to think that "Love conquers everything", but it doesn't. And I have become better at being less emotionally involved. My past relationships, I have kept a necessary distance in my heart. Fucked up? Yes. But in turn I have not had to nurse a broken heart as of late, especially not over the losers that I tend to get involved with (not to include the most recent love interest). Who knows what there is in store in the future for me, all I know is that I will try harder to be true to my heart and my self. That little girl who is afraid, is no more. I am a mother now and I have to be strong, reliable, and independent now. Maybe not by choice, but because those are the cards that were dealt to me. I miss my old life, but I don't cherish it, like I cherish my newfound freedom. The silence of my home on a Saturday night. The quiet mornings I spend on my porch, smoking, drinking coffee...reading a book. The freedom to do what I please how I please and when I please.I can not sacrifice these things again. How I missed being me. It's like my homecoming. I am finally home, to me.

So back to the therapist: She is silly. Yes, I know. But she is. It's odd to open up to someone. But after being in Maryland alone for a couple of months it was rather easy to talk to someone. I missed my family, but I didn't want to become a burden to them, with all my petty problems and I am painfully shy, so it's hard to make real friends. So, I think I will continue to see her, to take care of myself. I don't want to be fucked up anymore. I'm broken and I am seeking someone to help fix me. And here it goes....back to therapy...again.

So maybe I made some mistakes and made the wrong choices and took some wrong turns.

But I wouldn't change a damn thing about myself and what I have been through.

That would mean I would have to sacrifice a part of me that may be vital to how I am now.

So being lonely has been good, I got to learn about who I am, was and will be.

I am a strong, independent, and stable woman (yeah I said it!)

I have learned and experienced so much that I couldn't even begin to explain it all.

It is odd, that I have done so much of the things that I feared, and I have done them alone.

With only loneliness as my confidant and as my only company:

I have learned what it is to be Me, again. And it felt good.

Welcome home...how we missed you!