Revelations

You know,

my blog is really depressing.

bw

everyone who says that they're a friend

lies.

he still makes me cry

Fuck.
bw

Male Candy and What Kind of Whipped Are You?

There's a teacher at the school who refers to candy as female and male.
Male candy contains nuts.

There was a discussion yesterday about certain... shall we say... relations... regarding men and women. That inspired another teacher (the quorum was made of females) to speak up regarding the two types of "whipped" that exist in women:

Women who Pussy Whip
and Women who have been Dick Whipped.

She urged us all to Pussy Whip our men. In doing so, you never have to worry about him stepping out on you. She noted that women who have issues and drama, it is usually because they've been Dick Whipped, and are worried because they don't know where they stand.

Now, I've imparted this wisdom upon you. Take it and do with it what you like.

bw

daddys like me

Yesterday one of the kids dads gave me his number.
The tally of men who have asked me out who have children now stands at three.
The tally of men who have asked me out who do not have children stands at one.

I don't mind, oddly enough. Less pregnant I have to be =).

Seeing a man with children offers it's own set of drama. Exes, ex spouses, ex girlfriends, past women with current ties.

Sigh.

One parent just won't work. He's gorgeous, but... I see his kid every day so that's out, plus I'd have to see the exwife at some point, and there's too much family drama there without me sticking myself in the middle of it. One parent... He's gorgeous, but I see him every day. His kids like me, which is good, but heartbreaking. The whole thing is heartbreaking. The third one... I think he has the right idea. I haven't met his kid, and I probably won't until and unless it gets serious. On the flipside, I kind of like how the second one has introduced his kids, cause we're all friends, and it gives him an opportunity to gauge their reaction and acceptance or rejection of me.

The problem is, I love his kids. One of them is a little too smart for her own good, and she's wise to the fact that her dad likes me. She's hilarious though, in a "what she doesn't say speaks louder that what she does" sort of way.

He likes me. And I think I might like him right on back.

Aurgh!

bw

pruning hurts

today the corgi said that i was like a little butterfly, still in my cocoon, growing wings. it was really cute when he said it, with a touch of the poetic.

I have a kind of not really date in two mondays. Park Police Man is back, and I think he asked me out... but I'm not sure. Basically it's my turn to see his house. So we caught up some, and we reminisced some, and I asked him why he dropped off the face of the planet and he said because he'd gotten the "dont talk to my woman" look from my bf at the time. Which kind of begs the question, "then why did you call... did you hear we weren't together anymore?" but I didn't ask. I'll ask when I see him. He must've heard cause he didn't seem surprised when I told him, beyond a generic "man I thought ya'll were forever..." which is the same thing I'm used to hearing which is fine cause the more I heard it the easier it got. Anyways, I'm seeing him soon.

Which will be nice.

In other news, I'm being punished for making the bear happy. I'm not taking it that seriously, but it still hurt. I've since gotten over it though. Speaking of the bear, who knows if he's free? He doesn't. Further, he's missing the birthday and is skipping out on the next two fridays. But that's somehow okay because I'm such a forgiver.

=(

Here's the thing. I don't want to jump from one relationship to another. In fact, I'm resisting it with every fiber of my being, and I think that's why I'm pursuing this non-date date with PPM in the coming monday. But I'm SO DAMN LOYAL that it's really hard to look at anyone else, even though I'm completely single and need to be seeing PEOPLE right now, and NOT playing house with anyone. So I'm glad that PPM spoke up when he did, cause he's safe, and we can just... hang out instead of it being a date date. In fact, considering how PPM's get-together goes, I might take the other guy up on his offer, considering I owe him a lunch and all.

I need to learn how to "see other people." Dating does not mean exclusive. I need to learn this. I just always feel like I'm betraying someone. But I'm learning.

Like the corgi said, I'm in my cocoon, about to become a butterfly. He asked me, "what do YOU want?" and it totally caught me off guard, because I had not considered my voice before. I don't want to go from one relationship into another. I know that. I know that the more we hang out, the more it feels like that, and I know that people have a way of making a couple where the couple hasn't agreed to be one... then it only takes one person to buy into that and then it gets awkward. Do I like him? Yes. Could I be in a relationship with him? Yes. Do I want to right this second? No. Do I think it's wise to get in one with him right this second? NO. Do I think I should be in a relationship with ANYONE right this second? No.

All I know is that if I had my way, I'd be with the bear. Situation and all. I'd be in his arms, being fed grapes with a flat ginger ale by my side. But I can't have what I want. And this is kind of one of those "test of time" things, where who knows what would happen if one of us left for an extended period of time. Would we get over it? Would the withdrawal still hurt as much? It *hurts* when he's not around. As in physical pain. I wonder how he is, where he is, what our plans are and how we can make things work. Then I think, all that's dumb. It can't work.

This will only end in my tears.

Again.

I'm tired of heartache.

bw

I'm too scared.

That's why.
I'm too scared, and I like living in denial.
It's really not a bad place to live.
It's cheery here.

b

trapping

i did a little experiment.
question: what happens if i move out?
hypothesis: mom will be able to survive somewhat, and my responsibilities will be lessened.
materials: money
procedure: dont pay my share for one paycheck.
results: all of her checks bounced.
conclusion: I can never leave.

bw

mika says it all for me.

and they were green

We watched part of Stomp The Yard, and I squealed for Brian J. White.
We discussed the difference between gym cut and muscle protein builder cut.
We discussed the perfection that is Megan Good's physique, and I was informed that my rear mirrors hers.
I applauded having a movie star's ass.

Then I was fed grapes.
And they were green.

Sigh.

what am i doing

i think
for me
this
is soon to be
rock bottom.

i hate my name

i hate my name.
everyone keeps calling it.
i need everyone to leave me alone.


seclusion
reclusion

i just need less...
responsibility

something
anything

it's easier to run

someone stop this ride
I wanna get off.

when you don't know what to say

recently a friend of mine confided something to me, and i realised i'm a really awful friend to her.

she had a nightmare, a flashback, and... my first reaction is to hold her. i can't because this revelation took place online.

so i stared at the words, and prayed. Thing is...
She's not me... I can't...

There aren't words to describe how conflicting a person feels when they know what you're going through because they've been there, and they're powerless to help you. I can stand there and say stuff, but the words don't take it away. Words dont rewind time, dont undo actions, dont take pain away.

b

i wish

I wish I was Ritah.
I know you're not supposed to wish you were other people, because everyone has their own tests, and I might not be able to handle hers, but damn. Her life seems so much more uncomplicated than mine.

She's so confident, that she can shrug off rejection (in her case, it came from a man who turned out to be slightly touched in the head) and find someone new just like that *snap.*

I'm not that way. I wish I were, because this sucks.

b

danger, will robinson

I'm not strong enough to be with you.
If I was, I wouldn't have sacrificed so much of my self to be with you, or compromised so much of who I am, and who I want to be.

I've put myself in this position, because I'm not strong enough to say no to you.

In a way, Rikki's right.

damnit.

b

balls to the wall

Everyone's telling me I'm doing the right thing.
The corgi, worrell, cc, ritah, boyd, beatty...
and I expected rikki to as well.

She didn't.

She made me reflect that maybe i'm not in the best place for me to be. That in staying here, I'm not staying true to myself.

Why is this so complicated?

b

look but don't touch

We stand
looking at each other
In another time and space
We'd be in each other's arms
Lover's embrace
Cheek to Cheek
1940s Hollywood style
You'd whisper
"darling"
I'd whisper
"dearest I'm yours"
and the screen would go black
and everyone would know what happened
and no one would dare speak it aloud.

It's not 1940
and we remain
standing
with decades of unspoken sweet nothings
splashing in drops on the cold pavement between us
In a moment
we might touch
and that moment
would change everything

and so we remain
standing.

breaking up is hard to do

There was a man.
For a while, it was great.
Then something changed. I think he stopped being himself. Upon reflection, during our mammoth two-week breakup conversations, he mentioned something that I've since realised (potentially) meant that he was overanalyzing things that I've said. Maybe, to a small extent, he was trying to conform to what I wanted, or rather, what he thought I wanted.

He couldn't have been happy.

Thing is, *I* was happiest when *he* was happy. Maybe he was never happy, who knows. Maybe he just felt sorry for me. Who knows. I surely don't. Anything is better than this anti-explanation I got. When he was himself, it was all about the little things he did. In fact, it was always about the little things he did. He didn't have to tell me he loved me, I saw it and felt it in the way he was always, ALWAYS there for me.

Maybe he just had a greater sense of duty and it wasn't love at all.

I can't wrap my head around it, all I know is that it still hurts. When people ask, and I tell them, they say that he was cheating, or wanted someone else. I tell them not to say that because I choose to believe that he would never do anything like that. But then I think, if that's true, then my time with him was spent for whatever growth we both had to do and I hope he's with the woman who can make him happy in ways I apparently never can.

It's still sad, and it still hurts. It hurts having a man tell you that you're not enough, and that he couldn't feel your love. I'm not sure I'll get over that... not in a week anyway.

He said once, "do you want to hit me?" and he in effect gave me permission, and how do you tell the person "why would you think I'd want to hit you when all I want to do is go back to three days ago and kiss you and hold you and be held?"

How can I hit you? How can you suggest that?

So in the end, that's my mystery, my karma, to never know what I did to make him leave. And here I was, thinking, finally, someone to break it.

But instead, somehow, I did something to break *it*.

So he's gone, and there's supposed to be some long line of suitors, but I don't see one. What there is, is a man who is going through basically the same heartache I am (albeit on a MUCH grander scale) who I can confide in, and who gives me attention, effectively bringing me out of this funk when he's around.

I guess I'm working out my tantrums now, I've already been vicious on my blog, when I really had no right being that way, I suppose.

I just miss my friend, even at the friend level (which I'm completely not prepared for yet)... I just miss him. I miss my sounding board of logic. I miss the man who protected me verbally. Who said "you're the kind of girl that if people don't like, there's something wrong with THEM," who gave me two beautiful bouquets... One when I was in the hospital, and the other, my second favourite, when I made the comment that it'd been a while since I'd received flowers, and by the time I saw him, he'd pulled off some tree blossoms & fashioned them into a makeshift bouquet... rather, I think the correct term would be nosegay.

I loved it. Still do. And that singular gesture was so romantic... Which is why it stung when he said romance was fake, and a way to game up women.

Fast forward to the breakup, when I make the (ill-fated) comment that through all the talking, I'm not getting the impression he's trying to win me back.

The next day, I have roses at work.

I don't like roses. They're pedestrian. And they're not him. They're not me, and they're not him. They were a shut-up gesture. And it backfired on his part, because it was more of a slap to the face, to receive flowers in such creative fashion, when he was happy (if ever) or at least when I didn't stress him out so much... to the gesture of "here. This is typical. I'm sorry."

Anyways, I hope he doesn't read this, because the range when I write about him is so varied... One day I'm mega-strong, the other I'm pensive and refliecting. I hope he doesn't take any thing I write here personally if he does (which I hope he doesn't... I can't bring myself to read his, because I'm not over him yet... if he reads mine it's almost as if he can because he's over me... which is fine, to each his own, and who knows maybe he already has moved on with a new someone special. I wish I was that lucky) because I'm still working through my pain.
It's not personal, it's just painful, and since this is where I let stuff out, there you have it.

He's a wonderful person. I wish I could have been more of what he needed.

I'm not.

b