“I know you’ve only ever known your father and me. And I love Jack, because he is your father. But there’s another kind of love, Amanda. One that gives you the courage to be better than you are, not less than you are. One that makes you feel that anything is possible. I want you to know that you can have that. I want you to hold out for it.”
~Adrienne Willis, Nights in Rodanthe
by Nicholas Sparks
Appropriately enough, this movie was released exactly three months after the ending of my 21-year marriage. To date, it’s the only movie I saw at a theater more than once. I actually saw it on three separate occasions, taking a different girlfriend with me each time.
I related with it on so many levels. Being alone for the first time in my adult life. Having yet to find out who I really was. A product of a looming divorce. A mother of an extremely strong-willed daughter who would have her say regardless. Never to be last… a woman who fought to maintain her dream that a true unconditional love did in fact exist, somewhere out there. Hey, it might’ve been a dream – but it was my dream.
When you do find that kind of love, you want your loved ones to know that it’s out there for them as well. You want them to hold out for it.
Another kind of love.
One that gives you the courage to be better than you are, not less than you are. One that makes you feel that anything is possible.
Does anyone out there actually like Valentines Day? Start looking forward to it as soon as the new year rolls around? Hello… any takers? Anyone at all? I apologize beforehand for my overly pessimistic curmudgeon-like attitude today. All of us need to rant now and then, and today looks to Be Mine. Pardon the pun.
If you look up a Valentine Grinch in the dictionary, you’ll see a big ole picture of yours truly. Seriously. Most people associate this day with love – but for reasons different than you might think, I associate it with hate. Valentine’s day happens to mark the anniversary of the worst day of my life. Through a dark and hellish series of events which originally started as a ‘gift’, this so-called special day actually ushered in the beginning of the end of my marriage. Such is life.
A couple of friends recently told me they dread Valentine’s Day this year because they’re single. Upon my response, “I hate it too, I wish we could just skip it”, each fired back with something along the lines of, “Yeah, but that’s easy for you to say because you’re currently with someone”.
Well… that might be how they see it (perhaps rightfully so, from their perspective) – but it’s not how I see it. The fact that I currently have someone in my life will neither make the day more bearable or ‘easy’. Thing is, no one will ever see that evil day that took place years ago like I myself still see it. Although it’s frustrating knowing that most people will never ‘get this’ about me, I’m not at all certain I would even want them to. Sometimes an attempt to understand is accompanied by a strong sense of pity, of which I want none of. Suffice it to say that I would never wish upon another person this same catastrophic set of circumstances, especially when it’s all you’re left to mark a holiday like Valentines day with.
I’ve waited years for the after-effects of that abominable day to soften, to ease up, to heal. However fine I may appear on the outside, my inside is still just as raw and tortured as it was nearly a decade ago. I am the not-so-proud owner of a silent hell which has left me in an everlasting war with it’s demons – when all I ever wanted was for it to go away. The more time that passes, the more I realize this nightmare has likely taken a permanent residence within the balm of my existence.
V-day will come again, as always… and I’ll deal with it, as always. I don’t need a designated day on the calendar to celebrate my love for a person – I’m a big girl and I can choose to do that on any of the 365 days we’re annually afforded. Thanks.
I have earned my Grinch status. So kiss this, V-Day.
How do I start this, I sit here and wonder to myself. Do I even want to write about it at all? Not really. Do I need to? Probably. Problem is, my fingers don’t want to do the talking either. What the hell am I afraid of writing? Hello out there… brain to fingers – get to moving, babies. I need to get this out.
More ‘stuff’ over at the old house to go sort through. When my ex contacted me about it last week, I thought there was maybe just a bag or two to pick up. It was this time about four years ago when we were busy ‘splitting’ stuff. We stayed busy ‘splitting’ for months on end – after all, you do tend to accumulate a shitload throughout twenty-one years. So we split, split and split some more. When the emotions would get too high, we’d quit and start up again the next day, splitting again. I remember the pictures were the hardest – boxes and boxes of them.
I thought everything had been done. Nope… there’s more. Let’s go take care of it – it’s Goodwill or bust, ya know.
I’ve only had to go back over to the house a handful of times during the last several years. I don’t like driving through the neighborhood. I don’t like going down the street. I do NOT WANT to go in the house, as my daughter insisted on today “Mom, Dad knows you’re gonna be here to go through this stuff – I told him and he’s okay with it.” And so I commenced inside, where neatly stacked in her old room was a good-sized pile that came from the attic. Old baby clothes, stuffed animals, my old knitting materials, some outdated clothes, a few things that belonged to my grandmother, some of my old toys as a kid, all the missing Halloween decorations, and cards. If I failed to mention it before, I do not like going through cards.
Just when I think I’m a step ahead of the game, a day like today comes and knocks me back down a notch. Reminds me that I might not be as strong as I think I am. Was. Whatever. I must swallow the fact that I will forever have these demons, I’ve just realized they aren’t going to go away. What is it? No matter, for what’s done is done. My biggest demon? Failure. Still haven’t moved past that effing failure thing.
Through the years, I’ve learned a neat little trick. I can usually disguise the funk with a smile – on a good day, maybe even season it up with my boisterous laughter. It’s a trick my Mammaw taught me, albeit unconsciously. Ordinarily, it works. Until I’m alone. But that’s what matters, right? It’s just enough to get ya through a tight spot, when someone might be looking. Alone… well, you’re just that. On your own.
I guess the passage of time really isn’t all that when it comes to healing, or growing, or progressing, or whatever it is they say you do. I realize there are good days and bad, for all of us. As for me, I’m just thankful for that huge smile I was born with.
The subject always heats me up in a bad way. Each time I try to write about it I end up backspacing, deleting, rewriting – and guess what? I still end up all over the place. This is sure to be no exception.
A guy I know is going through a rough time. Upon recently learning of his wife’s affair with a co-worker, he confronted her on it. She pledged to ‘end’ it, but obviously didn’t. Long story short, he left her this past weekend.
My curse of thinking too much strikes again, as question after question invades my thoughts. Even if she had ‘ended it’ like she promised, could she really have continued working with the ex-lover? And if so, could my friend have slept well at night knowing the two were still ‘together’, albeit on the job?
Welcome to today’s world where the females are definitely giving the males a run for their money on this issue. At the risk of sounding crude… I’ve gotta go there. Why can’t these people keep their pants on? Can an hour of pleasure really be worth destroying the life of your spouse and/or children? Does your stomach not twist up in worry and angst over what you’ve done – or at least from fear of getting caught? And are ya really gonna trust someone you cheated with not to do the same to you later?
Don’t get me wrong – I absolutely do have great respect for those who’ve been able to get past an affair and ultimately save their marriage. I just can’t imagine many cases turning out like that.
I’ve heard the words reason or exception thrown around, I say SAVE IT. No reasons or exceptions matter to me in this most tender area. Yes I have an assload of sins myself, but infidelity isn’t in that huge pile and it never will be. I know some might call my views one-sided, and maybe they are – but they’re mine. Infidelity within a marriage is a certain removal of trust – the most personal betrayal – a definite stab in the heart. Who knows what goes on in a cheater’s head – I’m just unable to rationalize it in any way shape or form.
Since my separation and divorce, the word has never passed my lips with regard to myself. I just don’t believe a woman should the first one to speak it, and I have my own personal reasons for feeling that way.
A long long time ago, I did utter it and lived to regret it. I became a prisoner of the word; listening intently to expressions of regret for the next twenty-plus years. ‘The whole thing was your idea”, I was told. Other times, “Your mother might as well have held the shotgun”. Great – my own little shotgun marriage, standing in front of a judge in a courthouse on that hot August day. How lovely. How endearing. How very valued those words made me feel.
In some ways, I think being made aware of this bitter regret only served to make me stronger. I’ve come to the realization the path to real love and commitment will never be found on a one-way street. That the word compromise actually exists for non-selfish reasons. That the amazing feeling of total and complete trust creates an airtight bond that is impenetrable.
I won’t even go so far as to throw out a hint. As far as writing about it, I’m not really concerned with who reads this. I know K doesn’t read my blog – he reminded me of that little factoid just last week. Besides, as dear old Dr. Suess once said…
Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.
♫♪ Instant Karma’s gonna get you –
Gonna look you right in the face
Better get yourself together darlin’
and join the human race…
Greedy greedy greedy. My oh my – this world could use so much less of the word greed, couldn’t it? But such is the age we’re currently living in, and honestly I don’t see any improvement in store for the near future.
Once in a while, the good guy actually DOES win. Once in a very small while, we get to witness Karma come back around and bite hard a person in the ass who has so totally asked for it.
An example, you ask? I’m sure I can find one lying low around here somewhere… yes, I’ve got it. How about a lying cheat of an ex who for years tried so very hard to ruin a man’s life and everything good within it, up to and including keeping his daughter from him?
For this post – I shall refer to the individual as lowlife.
No truth can come from lowlife’s putrid mouth, for truth must first exist in order to pass through parted lips. History tells of lowlife’s many infidelities, to which the knob is still set on ‘repeat’. Concerning her own
destructive self-destructive antics, lowlife reassigns any and all blame to her ex. I look at it this way… if you’re going to be conniving, at least be good at it. Her transparent lies were easily read by the most high of courts, who awarded lowlife with nothing.
Nada. Zilch. Zip. Zero. OH WAIT – it’s actually much less than nothing, seeing as how lowlife was grabbing for the entire universe. Can’t forget about those costly attorney fees that belong solely to her now, not to mention that expensive appeal. I have heard those things aren’t cheap nowadays! Is there such a thing as double-ought? If there wasn’t before, there is now. Well that’s just gotta plain suck…
The most insincere of congratulations go out to lowlife for all her non-valiant efforts on a job not well done. My advice to lowlife now would be to invest in a broom (no, not to ride) and dustpan with which to begin cleaning all the droppings she’s left behind, as well as many more she’s sure to excrete in the future. Because a respectable person always cleans up their mess.
Let us not forget the old but wise quote, ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’. Or woman’s, as the case may be. Hey, speaking of universe… I’m outta here to go see the shining sun of mine. 🙂
Well we all shine on…
Like the moon and the stars and the sun
Yeah we all shine on
On and on and on and on… ♪♫
K was supposed to get his daughter over the weekend. In talking to her last night, she told him she really wanted to spend time with her boyfriend. Although he was disappointed, he told her sure. He understands what comes first in a 14-yr old girls life – friends and boys. It’s not been so long ago that my own daughter was that age, and once upon a time I was that teenager, too.
I understand that K and his ex had a difficult divorce. I’m also well aware of how she kept his daughter from him for almost 2 years of her life, and how much he missed her. When all is said and done, a 2-year wedge is hard to remove. What I don’t understand is this. WHY can’t parents share a common ground when it comes to the child they supposedly love so much? To me, it’s selfish – plain and simple. I’ll say it again because it very much bears repeating – SELFISH. It accomplishes nothing but hurting your child. An example, you ask? Well, here ya go.
Last year, Keith, his daughter, my daughter and I went to the local theme park. That same day he was sweet enough to buy all four of us season passes for the following (2011) year. Since we live so close, he figured it a great investment for an entire summer of fun. While on the phone with his daughter last night, she mentioned that her mother was getting her a season pass. K asked why, that she already had one and didn’t need it. She replied that her mother wasn’t going to let her bring her pass to his house when it was ‘his weekend’. He said, ‘but you won’t have to, because you’ll have the one I bought you – why would you need two passes?’ She never could really answer why. You see, he has no problem with her using her pass whenever she wants… that includes when she’s at home with mom. It’s hers. He bought it for her unconditional use. Apparently, mom’s rules are a bit skewed.
I can only go by past antics, but when ‘his weekend’ rolls around his daughter might show up with no pass (the one he bought) because mom won’t allow her to bring it.
Rule #253… no fun allowed at dad’s, ever.
So now what? Will K be forced to keep the pass at his house, so she’ll have one when he gets her for the weekend? Seriously… what benefit could this whole thing possibly have for their daughter? More importantly, what lesson could it be teaching her?
Aside from the obvious… how about ‘how to waste money the most economical way possible’? Yeah. Hats off to ya there.
An end result can hit you in the face with the same impact as a thrown brick, even if it’s something that’s been coming on for a while. Especially if it’s been coming on for a while, since the inevitable seems to lay dormant even more so.
The emotions of a mirrored past are thick – but flow swiftly, and justly. Even so, they lie bare and open to the focus of others. We often feel the need to either avert, hide or thwart these emotions (thanks, human nature). Therefore, once we’re faced with the reality of finality, BAM!! there goes that brick to the cheek.
Where and when one door closes, another has usually already opened – or is waiting to. This ever-wise quote has provided comfort to many, myself included. I do hope it provides that same comfort to those who might read this.
The finalities in life aren’t always as we might perceive them. Just as a brook or waterfall continually recycles itself… finality may also serve as a means to better yourself as an individual. To protect and heighten your own standards. The chance now exists to persuade your own self of going that extra mile. To further yourself in a way you never thought possible… to perhaps exceed your own expectations.
I had a meaningful conversation with a coworker this morning. This guy is good as gold – case in point, he initially came in offering a bunch of cans of Progresso soup that he’d gotten in a terrific sale for a buck each. I’m thinking he must’ve bought the entire store out yesterday. I jokingly told him that with the fifty dollars worth he brought in this morning alone, his trunk must’ve been dragging the asphalt! After work today, he’s going back to buy more, and he’s planning to stock it here for other’s lunches that might be without.
While in the kitchen fixing up the morning caffeine, he talked about his kids and how they were doing in school, and how hard math was for his son. He asked if my daughter was my only one and I told him yes. He asked if it was hard for me and my husband while she was in school, when she started dating, etc., to which I replied extremely – but that I had tremendous respect for others like his self who had two and three kids in school simultaneously. Looking back on that time in life, I guess we had it pretty easy.
He asked me how long I’d been married and that it must have been hard for it to end. I agreed and said it was the absolute hardest thing EVER. That it’s easy for someone to say they understand – but it’s a pain that can only be understood by someone who has been through it their own self. That I used to be that person on the other side, saying I understood. That I’m ashamed of the fact I used to think ‘gosh, why don’t they snap out of it already?’. That because you left doesn’t always mean you wanted it to end. That it can take literally years of work to get through it. That if you were truly emotionally invested in a long-term marriage, then working through the ending of it probably will take years.
After hearing all this, he was probably sorry he’d even asked. But he always has been a good listener. 🙂
In the years we’ve all known him here, it’s always been obvious how much this guy loves his family – his wife and kids are his world. When he speaks of his wife, he does so with a gleam in his eye. The level of appreciation and respect they have together is very apparent. As we started back to work, I told him to never lose that love and respect – to hold on to it… cherish it. To which he replied with a smile, ‘I tell my wife I love her ten times a day, or more. I won’t lose it.’ Hearing that put a smile on my face the whole walk back to my desk.
A series of stages
The world continues turning
I continue learning
Sight unseen, vision clear
Gaze broken, stiffness prevails
I see it, the unknown
What is it
Pain, regret… anger, blame…
Confrontation, a revelation
Any compassion left
Is an arm’s length away
It’s all tucked away.
The following is actually from a little over a year ago, before my blogging days. I did not write the words, but over a fair amount of time did do the compilation – written from a variety of beloved sources and wise souls. I remember at the time, I was in a sense lost – feeling alone and blissfully unaware of my own purpose in life. My arrival at this point came from a failed 21-year marriage and the quest to ‘find myself’. I was comforted by the wise words, and found myself ever-searching of them.
Running across it brought back memories of being truly alone. Of the endless search for wisdom – of knowledge of who was fake and who was authentic; and the hopeful ability to discern the difference. I’m not changing any of the content, nor the order… and I do realize it’s scattered. But at the time, so was I.
My best dreams and worst nightmares have the same people in them.
What is more the benefit? To love a person that is already loved by everyone, or to love a person that is rejected by everyone?
Hugging is healthy. It helps the immune system, cures depression, reduces stress, and induces sleep. It’s invigorating, rejuvenating & has no unpleasant side effects. It’s nothing less than a miracle drug. Hugging is all natural. It’s organic, naturally sweet, has no artificial ingredients, environmentally friendly & is 100% wholesome. Hugging is the ideal gift. Great for any occasion, fun to give & receive, shows you care, comes with its own wrapping paper and, of course, is fully returnable.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
We wait all these years to find someone who understands us… someone who accepts us as we are… someone with a wizard’s power to melt stone to sunlight… that can bring us happiness in spite of trials… that can face our dragons in the night… who can transform us into the soul we choose to be. Just yesterday I found that magical someone is the face we see in the mirror: It’s us and our homemade masks.
Happiness needs sadness. Success needs failure. Benevolence needs evil. Love needs hatred. Victory needs defeat. Pleasure needs pain.
You must experience and accept the extremes. Because if the contrast is lost, you lose appreciation; and when you lose appreciation, you lose the value of everything.
Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel of both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back – in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.
Forgiveness does not overlook the deed. It rises above it.
It always amazes me to see people making a decision to never forgive. It’s like trying to punish their tormentors by harming themselves. In the long run, it’s not a question of whether they deserve to be forgiven. You’re not forgiving them for their sake. You’re doing it for yourself. For your own health and well being, forgiveness is simply the most energy-efficient option. It frees you from the incredibly toxic, debilitating drain of holding a grudge. Don’t let these people live rent free in your head. If they hurt you before, why let them keep doing it year after year in your mind? It’s not worth it but it takes heart effort to stop it. You can muster that heart power to forgive them as a way of looking out for yourself. It’s one thing you can be totally selfish about.
I’ve always heard to live everyday as if it was your last. I disagree. I think you should live everyday as if it was your first, where everything is new and exciting. You try new things, and you’re not waiting for your life to end – you’re waiting for it to begin.
Your friends are your release. They’re who you have the most fun with, and yet when the going gets tough, those people turn around and suddenly they’re not just making you laugh, they’re being this rock and giving you all their advice. Even though you’re so much your own person, if you dissect yourself, I guarantee you, your friends are in there. Their influence is incredible. However rare true love may be, it is less so than true friendship.
You’ll never know how much you needed your friends until you look back along the rope and realize how many knots they tied to keep you from Falling. I don’t want someone to catch me when I fall; I want someone to stop me before I do.
Someday someone might come into your life and love you the way you’ve always wanted. If your someday was yesterday, learn. If your someday is tomorrow, hope. If your someday is today, cherish.
Tears are words the heart can’t say.
I tried to conquer the Universe, but it defeated me.
I tried to capture the Universe, but it eluded me.
I tried to understand the Universe, but it outwitted me.
So, clumsily, hesitantly, I tried to love the Universe,
And it embraced me.
Does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic our government could track a single cow, born in Canada almost three years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the state of Washington? And, they tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow.
Sooner or later you have to make a choice…leave behind your passion, your dreams – or have the strength to look past all discouraging faces and look at yourself and know that you have what it takes… and you will prove them wrong.
To love requires courage, the ability to take a risk, the readiness even to accept pain and disappointment. Whoever insists on safety and security as primary conditions of life cannot love; whoever shuts himself off in a system of defense and possession as his means of security, makes himself a prisoner.
Never assume greatness is for someone else. Imagine every day that you too can do great things. Have the courage to take the challenge, make the mistakes, and move forward. Who knows, maybe one day someone will be sharing your moment with you.
As I glanced at the calendar this morning, a wave of nostalgia hit me. Twenty-three years ago today, I got married. My first and only time.
Everything in life happens for a reason. It is true that time tends to change things. People change, and grow, in different ways – sometimes in two completely opposite directions. The product of that union is a wonderful young woman. A woman who has set out to enrich the world with her beauty, charisma, honesty, knowledge, love of God, and heart of gold.
Her name is Julia Christine, and I thank God every day for her. She is by far the biggest blessing ever bestowed upon me – and I’m sure her father feels the same way.
Instead of dwelling on how long the storm lasted… remember how good the breeze from it felt. ~BM
I was ushered in through the foyer, past the living room and down the hallway. The doorknob to the right was turned, and the door opened for me to enter the room.
The room itself was bigger than I remember, and had a radiant, almost heavenly look about it. I immediately noticed that it was cleaner, whiter, and less congested. It was almost pristine – with much extra room to move around. Just as quickly as the door closed behind me, they appeared.
My dogs. The dogs I had to leave behind through a marriage separation, now well over two years ago. And they were smiling. C’mon now, no bashing… any dog-lover out there knows what I’m talking about. They DO smile.
I don’t remember actually getting down on the floor, but in the next moment that’s exactly where I was, and where I remained. Chance and Rebel were all over me, and I was all over them. They were both clean as a whistle and smelled so good. There also was no gray in them whatsoever. The dogs weren’t pups, but they certainly weren’t old men, either! Along the empty sides and corners of the room, there were lots of clean blankets and sheets, all neatly folded – there must have been 8-10 of them scattered throughout the room. As time went on I kept grabbing them, unfolding each one and spreading them out for us, all while continuing to love on them. I remember thinking, ‘boy is someone gonna be mad at me for unfolding and messing up all these linens…’, but the dogs were loving it, and loving me. All three of us were so happy and comfortable, in that room.
The tears continue to fall as I write this. This particular visit occurred in a dream I had last night, on Tuesday night.
I believe it all started when I asked my daughter to take a picture so I could see them. I was at work Monday when I received them, and it immediately made me cry. My girlfriends at work saw this and were very sweet and caring – they are good friends and fellow animal-lovers to boot, so they understood without even saying anything. Just to see how gray the little and big guy’s faces had both gotten in two years was shocking – in particular Rebel’s, the boxer.
I’ve tried to force them out of my mind for a long time now because it’s just been too painful to think about. That still remains the case. I guess somehow, unfortunately, love really is associated with pain. Whatever the case is, I do still miss them greatly.
It was a good visit. No, it was better than good. The visit was awesome, even perfect. I hope they visit me again soon. Or should I say… allow me to visit them.
I often wish I’d started blogging a while back. Then again, if I had, it would’ve been the most boring drawn-out process of arriving at the point I’m at now – which is happy. Yes, money is more than tight, referencing yesterday’s rant… but I am happy.
About a year and a half ago, I wrote a few blogs on another site. This site isn’t public and I’m thinking of closing it down soon, so I wanted a ‘storage bin’ to house a couple of them. I’m thinking my current blog would be a good storage choice. Rereading them just now, I once again stumbled upon what I was so desperately searching for from the very beginning…
The Quest for Happiness.
Guess I need a refresher course every now and again… So, go ahead – make the jump. But above all………. be happy.
Friday, April 10, 2009
A Good Life
Life is good.
Simple words, aren’t they? Actually these three words can branch out in so many directions and mean so many things. Right now I’m partial to what they symbolize to me.
Which is, the ultimate realization that I am happily independent. It’s taken me a while to say that with some enthusiasm, but man oh man – what a great feeling it is to finally get to know, and actually like, your own self.
And finally being able to say…. ‘I did it’. While smiling.
The forever analyst that I am, I’d find myself constantly searching for the flaws in my own character that might have led up to or even caused the ending of my old life. It took me a while to realize that until I embraced my own self, gave myself some actual worth, that I would in fact be alone in my new life. You absolutely are how others see you. Might be sad – but this is fact.
Being off work on a holiday, getting up and having the day with which to do exactly as you please, no one to answer to…. though a rarity, how glorious is that? There are so many people confined in a tempestuous or otherwise unhappy relationship that dictates their every move, even on a day off from work. Actually, days off are usually even more trying if you’re in a relationship that’s gone south. I sincerely remember.
This morning I do my usual cleanup of self and house – then cook 2 eggs, 3 pieces of bacon, 1 piece of toast lightly buttered, add grape jam – and oh, can’t forget the OJ with lots’ o pulp. Savoring every bite sitting on my porch while looking out at all the new greenery, I thought to myself…. ‘only breakfast at the beach could top this right now’. Mr. Huge Hovering Devil Bee who’s positioned himself directly above the railing to watch me eat doesn’t even bother me.
The most simplistic things in life really are the most important. The sunrises, sunsets…. the birds building and mating in the Spring (in my hanging basket, no less). A good breakfast. Looking forward to the imminent thunderstorm. Crossing the bridge and gazing at the ‘diamonds on the water’; locking them into memory. I told a friend recently that I’ve gotten pretty good at driving a straight line on the bridge while my head is turned completely towards the lake. LOL In any case, the love and appreciation for these things will only come once you are truly satisfied and content with your own self worth. I am forever thankful for being at that point in my life.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Setting the REAL record straight
Category: Romance and Relationships
Every so often I get the urge to write a blog. Although the urge isn’t really there today, I more just feel the need to. Jot down some things that have been weighing on my mind, all related to the colorful year I’ve had so far. A year that’s made me feel failure-esque for the most part.
To try and understand how there can be so many fake people in the world is a daily struggle. What does it take anymore to be REAL? Out of two relationships I’ve had this year, both have failed. I’m not saying that I’m totally blameless. What I am saying is that both of these individuals happened to not be ‘real’.
Though a world different in all other areas, both individuals had this one little trait in common. Neither were genuine – neither were real. They both were masters of disguising theirselves as someone they were not. Whether it’s covering up something of grave importance (case #1) or leading someone to believe you lead a life that doesn’t really exist, along with hidden anger issues (case #2) – the simple fact remains… YOU AREN’T BEING REAL.
I realize it’s better to know sooner rather than later. At the time, it did make me wonder why I even bothered to put myself out there. Was there something about me that attracted this type of masqueraded personality? Was I really that gullible? Or did I want to be loved so badly that I was turning my head to the obvious? After much thought, I’ve decided to suspend the search for the answer – instead moving forward with slightly more ware on life this time.
Recently I’ve reconnected with someone who has showed me that there are still real people in the world. This person has also dealt with a not-real someone in their own life for many years. It’s been helpful and healing to share our experiences, and realize that we aren’t so alone in our quest to find someone out there that is genuine. Although we’re still in the early stages of a relationship, I can say that through him, I am slowly learning to trust again. That guard is still somewhat in place – as I’m sure his is too. We’d both be fools not to, right?