Freedom and Stuff

I’m growing tired of people trying to hook me up. Sure, they mean well, but the longer I remain unshackled, the more I realize how much I enjoy being single. I look back on past relationships and remember what they were like after the honeymoon period, and I can honestly say, it exhausts me just thinking about it. Of course, my last long term relationship ended in a nine hour stand-off with state police, and the marriage that I escaped from before that involved alarms on the doors to keep me in my place and to alert him to my every move along with some pretty severe abuse. Oh, but rape isn’t rape if you’re married.

And then you think of the tedious task of talking to one loser after another, and you start to think about all the things that you would lose if you entered a relationship. Even a good one! Not to slam the good ones, more power to y’all in one, but for me personally, I just know I am not in the place to go there yet.

I mean, I’m, lactose intolerant. If I’m sharing my bed with someone, I’d be remiss to down a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in my randomly stained and bedraggled Spiderman shirt and a pair of Batman undies while laying in bed and binging on Netflix. I’d be terrified of what would happen within the hour of consumption. But not if I’m single!

And if I’m tired or sick or cranky or PMS’ing, I don’t have to take anyone else’s feelings into consideration! I can come home and shut out the world and spare the chance of casualties. I don’t have to explain myself or try to reign myself in, I can just be free to be me and whatever I am feeling in that very moment!

That brings us to freedom. Ah, sweet, sweet freedom. I don’t worry about checking with someone else over what I do, what I spend, who I am friends with, if I want to have one particular thing for dinner but they want another, and on and on and on. No one will pressure me to take it to the next level (and they all do eventually, male or female…if you’re together long enough, they’ll want you to commit). No one is that ONE PERSON I have to want indefinitely without being considered the bad guy because I bow out.

There will be no pointless disagreements. After that honeymoon phase passes, (And it always does. You won’t have butterflies forever) you automatically start having disagreements at some point. Or you’d rather have some down time and not text all that night. And you don’t want to feel obligated to always spend every single moment together, but omgawds, that’s a huge no no because you once loved spending all your time with them and so there must be a problem now which you must talk about and talk about and talk about and talk about some more. You feel the pressure to keep performing to a certain level that isn’t even possible or rational in real world terms. That’s what I’ve encountered, at least.

Plus, I have kids. I don’t relish the thought of integrating a new partner into my family. My kids have never met someone I’ve dated because that’s a huge level of commitment right there.

Guys want me to be less independent. I’ve encountered that far too many times. Something about not letting them be a man if I can take care of everything on my own.

And I’m weird. No, really, I am. My weirdness doesn’t like being checked, and you have to make modifications to yourself when in a relationship. Don’t tell me that the right person will accept everything about me because that’s hogwash. Again, that honeymoon stage. After that, you start to notice the little things people do when you’re around them all the time that are irritating as hell. Everyone does. Since it’s a fact, I’m sure it’s also science, bitches!

But being single, I can randomly flirt with anyone I want. That’s my automatic setting, by the way. I flirt without even thinking about it. I give most people pet names, and I threaten to hump legs like a rabid chihuahua. I also threaten to bite. It’s kinda my thing, this sexual/flirtatious personality that I greet the world with. And let me tell you right now, dudes don’t like it when their girls flirt with others. So as soon as you make it official, BAM! Now you can’t even innocently flirt with others unless you’re with someone who interacts the same way socially and isn’t the jealous type. I’m not about to lock up my phone or act differently in public when my beau is around simply because I’m taken and no longer allowed to be my silly, flirty, dirty-mouthed self. I like being this person. It works for me.

Let’s see…I don’t have to do laundry for anyone else but me and the kidlettes, I don’t have to put up with the bad moods of another person as well as my own, I don’t have to ask permission for a damn thing, I am completely in control of my own life and all the choices I make, I don’t answer to someone, I don’t have to discuss how I want my money spent, I don’t have to think about maintaining a relationship after the initial excitement wears off, I can flirt with whomever I please, I can eat all the ice cream in the world, and I never have to worry about doing things I don’t want to do just because I have a prerequisite to please the one I’m with lest they leave. Sure, sure, we could want a lot of the same things, but do you know how rare it is to find a person that likes everything you like and never will argue with you and will agree with all of your choices and is never going to start seeing the things about you that bugs them and works on changing those things because you’d be “oh, so perfect!” if you just didn’t do this or if you started doing that?

After everything I’ve encountered in relationships, and yes, they’ve been extreme, I must say I prefer singledom so much more. I see my friends and what they go through. I see how much a relationship would steal from me.

I don’t want to be claimed. I don’t want to be half of someone, I want to be magnificently whole all by myself.

I drove past the house I shared with my ex today, and many memories washed over me. And I started thinking about how I felt when I got away and how amazing life is with all these independent choices I get to make. I love freedom. I love MY freedom. And I don’t foresee a time when I’ll willingly just give that up.

So I’ll just be over here dating myself 😉

Because I’m Happy

Today, the crisp air made me happy as it gave hints of the Autumn months coming up right around the corner. The sweetness of my coffee made me happy. Class discussions and envisioning my mind expanding brought me happiness, too.

Each day, the little things bring me joy, and the big things bring me joy, and everything in between brings me joy. I think of past battles won and the resilience I’ve gained in life and the strength I have built up over time, and I become intoxicated with the wonderment of life and its precarious beauty and cyclic nature.

The more I endure, the happier I become. How odd, I think, before I realize it isn’t that odd at all. Why should we not become happier than the day before when we realize all that we can withstand and flourish through? There’s this dichotomy of fragility and invincibility dancing side by side to whispers of music in the midst of bomb shells exploding just on the other side of the wall. The human spirit can embrace so much and continue moving forward with hope and love and longing for futures dreamed of in the dead of night.

So I’m happy. I’m not in pursuit of happiness, I just AM.

I’m here for another day, and I see the threads holding the tapestry together, and I know it’s all beautiful, every single thread and every single fragment…even the dark grays and blacks and cloudy shades.

Resplendent, this life.

The In Between

Dear you,

I wanted to believe, so I deceived myself. I can’t be angry at you. I mean, I should have learned the first time I discovered how dishonest you can be. Fool me once, and all…

I was hurting, though. I was terribly hurt, you see. And to believe you meant to alleviate the pain. Until you were dishonest again. Fool me twice…

I think the complete detachment was all it really took this time. To see myself as I really am…The In Between. The momentary distraction that turns to a nuisance when the shiny baubles come along and hold your interest. I’m not shiny enough or interesting enough or maybe not even pretty enough. I don’t know which it is. I just know that I’m good enough for a time, then instead of honesty, there’s simply the feeling of being in the way again.

You can’t pick me back up again like a discarded toy when the shiny baubles become tarnished. I won’t let you. I don’t like living in The In Between. I’m so much more than The In Between could ever offer me. I get that you don’t see that. I know, and it’s okay. But, you see, when you use me to pass the time before tossing me to the side to chase something new only to run right back once your chase bores you, you treat me like less than nothing. I am just the girl in The In Between. That’s making me a shadow of a real girl. That’s saying I only matter because no one else currently matters more.

I thought for sure I mattered simply because YOU mattered to ME. Such foolish naivete. But it’s so easy to just drop me to the side without the slightest explanation. And it’s so easy to look annoyed and bored and anxious to escape because you’ve never seemed to have the willpower or upfront nature to say, “Hey, you know, I’d really rather not…”

I deserve more than that. If it can’t come from you, then it will (and often does) come from elsewhere. The only anger I have felt over this came recently, and it was simply because of the dishonesty. No, really, if I’m being honest, there was that moment where I was so angry that you just can’t see the value of me as a viable human. I know this to be so because we treat those we see value in with a certain level of respect and courtesy and honesty and tenderness. None of which is forthcoming from you when the light hits something that sparkles off in the distance.

Then the anger was redirected at myself. I mean, there’s that saying. When people show you who they are, believe them. But I chose to deceive myself. I chose to do this to myself.

So I’m moving forward with the knowledge that the next time we enter The In Between, I won’t serve the same purpose. I know that I see my own value and treat myself with enough respect for the both of us, and that will have to suffice. Because I just won’t be a shadow girl who helps you pass the time ever again. I’d rather not, thanks.

And I know I mean it when I don’t wonder for one second if you’ll miss that role I played someday. Because, quite frankly, it no longer matters if you do or not. It no longer matters at all.

I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a dragon. And dragons don’t need saving, they figure out how to save themselves. Just in case you wondered….

Sincerely,

That Girl

How To Survive Raising Teenagers: A Demonstrative Speech

(Taken from the Power Point Presentation I am giving soon in my speech class)

They Have Messy Rooms

If you can’t charge wild animals moving into their closet rent, and you haven’t had a tetanus shot recently, perhaps you should just shut the door and have a glass of Pinot Grigio. Light, sweet, refreshing. A wine glass is a grown up sippy cup.

They Talk Back. A LOT.

So you must learn to negotiate with terrorists! So very un-American! But survival is the law of the land, and turning off data to their phones and changing the wi-fi password goes a long way in the battle.

They Eat All Your Food.

No, seriously, bottomless pits. My grocery bill is higher than all my other bills combined.

So I started buying only healthy, organic foods. Oh, you’re hungry again? There’s some quinoa in the fridge you could heat up. Or perhaps you would like some kale chips I just made? No? You’ll wait for dinner? Good plan.

They Date. And They Have More Game Than You.

You’re waiting up for one or more of your teens to get home from a date on a Friday night. You’re in pajamas. With a stain. And a hole in the butt. And you’re wondering how come YOU don’t get to go out on a Friday night. I suggest a Merlot for such occasion. It’s mild and easily gulped down. None of that sipping crap. In fact, don’t even use a glass. You should just throw a curly straw in the bottle and try not to cry.

They Grow Up So Fast.

The moment my family became complete. My now teenagers meeting their youngest sister for the first time a few moments after birth.

When they have sufficiently taught you why some species eat their young, just remember them when they were little. Recall sweet kisses and “I love you Mommy!” called out over and over again. And take solace in the fact that someday, they too shall be parenting teenagers. If karma is real, that is.

We’re Just White Noise

I don’t know what I’m doing in this current phase of my life. I’m growing beyond my current stage by heading back to college, meditating, evaluating my life…and I’ve become so repulsed by the thought of dating that my only safe recourse is to become static with the Vaping Viking.

We get together, we watch movies, we go shopping, we cook together, we lay in bed and watch old episodes of Macgyver with limbs touching. We’ve slept in the same bed all night and gone for coffee in the morning. We send perfunctory texts.

“Hi. How’s your day going?”

“Great. Yours?”

And there’s nothing of substance. I know for a fact he doesn’t know my favorite color, my favorite food, my favorite book, my worst nightmare, my greatest fears.

But he knows what I feel like when fucking like bunnies since I finally gave up my abstinence because if I’m not waiting for someone to fall indescribably in love with me, why should I not at least feel physical contact with another? Oh yeah, that’s right. Because if there’s no connection, it’s not satisfying. Sure, sure, his technique was fine. He did good things that felt just hunky dory. Couldn’t make me cum, though, because I can’t do that without the connection. I hate that. I hate it passionately. I can’t find myself completely satiated physically unless I am completely satiated emotionally, spiritually, mentally…what a crock of shit.

He knows what I look like while sleeping and how ridiculous my hair is when I wake up.

And these are all such intimate things. Too intimate. Far too intimate for whatever it is we’re sharing. He doesn’t flatter me and look at me adoringly, but he’ll ask me to come over and make dinner with him. He doesn’t ask me about my dreams, but he’ll invite me over to lay in his bed and watch shows with him while playing on my phone. He doesn’t bother filling the silence with conversation, but he won’t give me in depth conversation when I ask him questions about his views on ANYTHING. He doesn’t walk me to my car at night, but he’ll meet me at it when I arrive. He tells me about his ex that he still loves, but then he throws his arm over me and nuzzles my neck in the next breath. He doesn’t think of me all day long, but he invites me on a trip to Atlantic City. I don’t connect to him. He doesn’t connect to me. It isn’t even a real friendship. It’s static. We are white noise to each other…merely blocking out the world for a time.

So what the fuck am I doing?

I miss feeling something. Anything. I miss smiling when a text comes through and laughing at a memory and looking forward to getting dolled up for a night out. I miss feeling like someone actually craves me. I miss touch, but not any touch. I miss the shivers and the longing. I miss the comfort and the feeling that I’m not alone with one, simple touch. I miss feeling like I matter more than the others.

I’m hungering for something that I’m convinced doesn’t even exist, and I’m filling that void with a shadow of the real thing. I know I’ve had something much more real than this on more than one occasion, and I am so desirous of that and afraid of that all at the same time. I’m involving myself in a non-involved situation to protect myself from/give myself some of what I crave the most. And I’m not sure what that says about me.

But rest assured, it says something.

So for now, I’m full of static. I’m white noise and shadowed hopes. Funny, but I think I’ve just described being a ghost of myself…neither vibrantly alive nor fully dead. Just whispers that are easily ignored.

Behold, Your Queen of Awkward Moments!

The Vaping Viking ordered me a new box, and as I sat in his shop, who should walk in? None other than the devastatingly boring dude I went on a date with a couple months ago. So I reacted in the obvious way. I burst into laughter at the shock on the boring dude’s face and then began laughing even harder when I saw the confusion on the Vaping Viking’s unshaven mug. The next obvious reaction was to take a picture once they began conducting business.

It wasn’t the best picture of the Vaping Viking, but I had everyone’s full attention after I realized the shutter noise on my camera was on which alerted them all to my picture taking shenanigans. The guy in the Jersey gave me another look then told his father he’d wait in the car for him.

Slightly awkward. Slightly funny. Slightly par for the course on a regular ol’ day in my life.

Then I made plans with Jinx. Here I will highlight the good to come out of my dating adventures online. Jinx, that tatted up nerd, is just one chill dude. We haven’t hung out since going to the movies about a month ago, so we’ve made plans to change that. He makes me laugh, and he proves that not every guy on a dating app is a big, stinky poopie-head. I have faith there are decent men in the world simply because of the ones that are my friends. That’s really the only thing that has kept me from becoming a militant feminazi instead of a non-combative feminist.

See? Just loads of goofiness and giggles.

I’ve been extremely happy with my decision to not date. It feels like this immense pressure has disappeared…poof!!! …and I can focus on the important stuff in life. It’s freeing and removes all the cumbersome trappings from my life. I mean, unless you count bills and the fact someone let my children know I’m supposed to feed them every day.

In other news, I’ve begun my fall term, and I’m relatively certain the world is ending soon. Otherwise, there’s no logical reason to explain why I could possibly be the star pupil in a mathematics classroom. No reason at all. I’m done with cardio, and weight lifting, and watching what I eat. There’s obviously not much time left.

Life continues day after day no matter what breakthroughs and setbacks and accomplishments and boring-boring-boring events take place. It just keeps going, and when you realize that, your stress levels diminish tenfold. I don’t have to worry, the world will keep on spinning. I mean…until the aliens come back. They’re gonna be pissed to see what we’ve become.