The Little Engine That Could

Monday, December 18, 2006

Blocked-- and still writing

I wrote those words yeasterday as part of a release. Today I blocked him from getting in touch with me.

I feel sick.

Sick, but good sick. Like the feeling right before the rollercoaster goes down the hill. Good. Empty. With nothing to fill up the space. And being with the nothing to fill up the space.

He wouldn't reach out, not even if I wanted him to. Because goodbye happened months ago. On my couch, in each others arms, me crying, things have changed, things are going to keep changing, and even though I choose the change, I don't choose the feeling of emptiness. Or any of the feelings that go along with it.

So what am I filling up my space with.....

I started doing body work-- working through a lot of the issues as they come up, with an awesome man. With him I feel safe, and it's a structured environment. It's not quite massage, not quite polarity therapy, but something in-between. And I walk out of there feeling released and comfortable in my body, in myself. Feeling like I am totally relaxed. Doing my best to not feel an attraction to him, to not get into that pattern. Male attention, any male attention ends up being uncomfortable, and then working with someone who has me feel safe, it's like "Wow, I've found it".

I must remember that the someone out there isn't waiting to be found. The nameless faceless man and me are not lost. There is no finding. It's all discovery. And just because there is some kind of exchange and release, it does not constitute a relationship, a crush, or anything else of the sort. Not that it wouldn't be welcomed, but then I keep pulling myself out of the moment. Just opening my heart a little doesn't mean that I have to close it again. Just keep opening.

Okay, that's it for now. It's Christmas, I have on a new flannel nightie, my house is clean, and I feel great. I loved spending time with the family, I loved all my gifts (new socks, yipee, no really, yipee), and spoke to loved ones and such. I have an amazing life. I must remember that when the valleys get too low.

Peace.

Kim

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Keep hanging on

AS I begin to write I think that there is not much to say, but so much.

Here goes:

Hanging on to memories, to days faded away, to the things I thought you said, the things you didn't say.
Wistful.
What could have been.
What was never to be.

The release doesn't feel real.
Last words spoken are forgotten.
Except goodbye.
Except goodbye.

Goodbye forever.
You weigh on my mind still.
Thoughts of you
dragged around in a little toy wagon.
Discarded notes, backs of envelopes
to someone else they are trash.
To me, that's all I have.

Everything clings to me
I'm a magnet.

I keep cleaning out the things
the memories
the visual reminders.
My body remembers everything about you.
My body rejects it slowly.
A wound that is slow to heal.

I'm in a different space now
but really it's more of the same.
I keep telling myself that tommorrow
tommorrow, tommorrow
this will get better.
That I will go on, not investigating what you are up to
who you are with, and what you are doing.
That I will not build pieces of you into a story
as if I am still in your life
as if I am still someone who matters to you.

Do I?
but really it isn't important.
but do i? Am I?

these are the constant questions.... am i?

Am I enough
am I too much
am i pretty, witty, wise and loving.
am I here for you
when I am not here for myself
and how ashamed I am of that.
How ashamed I am.

I've turned you into a brilliant cocktail story
replete with a punchline that supports my work.
you were more than that. so much more.

my eyes darken
my mouth turns up in the corner.
I haven't looked at myself in years,
really looked at myself.
I didn't need to, you did it for me.
You tried to do it all for me, I wanted to share that responsibility.
I wanted to take away your responsibility to the world.
it wasn't to be.

Sad.
Alone.
Lonely and confused. Filled with love, but it's emptiness too.
Trying, but no try, only do.
Okay, so thinking about what's next.
How about what's now. What is now.
Now is filled with smoke
a haze, a fog.
my knees hurt, my heart hurts.
my skin is dry and I never drink enough water.
I never drink enough water.

It takes all I have to go
carry this burden
hold it up, throw it on the table every day and say
"In spite of this, I am worth it"
when all I feel is the weight.
When all I feel is that toy wagon
shiny and red
following me around wherever I go.
wherever I go.

I could destroy you
I have that power.
That power scares me.
I will not.

I'll keep hanging on.
I'll keep hanging on.
Happiness is so close, I can taste it in each bite, and then it floats away.
I keep putting it in my mouth to ingest, and it falls away.
it tastes like sand.

It breaks my heart.
It breaks my heart.

My heart is not broken.
It is wounded.

Focus on something else for a while, focus on this
or that
or this again.
Heal it. WIll it to be healed.
Run, or think about it.
Try to get away from it, control it, manipulate it.

Am I worthy?
Am I loved?

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Big update letter

I wrote this to my friend and advisor, Dawn, as a way to update her on the goings on of my life. I ommitted some parts, dear readers, as you have already seen them.

Be well. Have a happy rainy Saturday.

Kim
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Dear dawn,

It’s beautiful that I write the words, Dear dawn, because I woke this morning at Dawn. Such a perfect name for you, all things new, the first light, spiritual, and the quiet of the morning. Making peace with the transgressions from the night before, a perfectly suited name for you.

Here I am catching you up on my life since last we spoke. There is so much going on, and yet, I am in a good place. My job has become my everything to me, I realize this is the pattern, putting everything I have into one thing, and finding little balance. The work never stops, or so it seems. I have traveled to Chicago and Miami and Mexico City for work in the last two months, each one exciting and lonely.

In July, I went to North Carolina and visited my family. First, my aunt and I drove to Ashville, NC, and spent two days walking around, eating great meals, sleeping, and shopping. It is a beautiful town, and it took me a full day to just be with myself. I spent lots of time in the pool, first making friends with a girl of about 10 who looked a lot like me at her age—large, looking much older than she is, and very very smart. I thought what kind of wisdom could I impart on her so that her life could be easier, what would I have wanted someone to tell me or show me? But I came up with nothing. To be that innocent again, to be comfortable in my own skin, to swim and laugh and do handstands in the pool with a strange woman was enough. I don’t have to fix everyone and everything, I can just let people be, in the way I can let me be.

I then spent two days at my brother’s house. He and his wife have three kids—I got to have individual time with each of them, my oldest niece (13) is smart, street wise, and truly a pre-teen. She is interested in boys and friends, has no fear, and although not sassy, sticks up for herself. The other two are handed everything. My nephew is tall and large like me, something my brother never understood. My brother had Zach on a diet so that he would make football, as he outweighs all the kids three years older than him. I pleaded with Keith not to make it a punishment to loose weight, not to make him feel like he has done something wrong to be the size that he is, and that to make exercise fun, a game, play time, and incorporate a bit more and more every day. At lunch one day Zach looked at my brother (mind you, Zach is 6) and said ‘Dad, why do you have to look at EVERYTHING I eat. Leave me alone!” I almost burst out crying at the table, as he said the thing that I wanted to say to my mother all these years. Instead, my heart broke, and I resolved to do whatever I could for him to know that he is loved, regardless of what he looks like.


I call my brother’s family, The Angry Family—there is yelling and screaming and crying and orders flying around all the time. I felt like I can’t say anything to stop it, because my sister in law and brother have already cut off my aunt who lives less than a half an hour away from the family. The way my oldest niece is treated is so much different from the other two, it’s amazing. Adrienne has always had to be scolded, had chores, clean up, etc, and the two little ones think she’s their maid. Adrienne takes it in stride, and I confessed to her that I don’t like the way they talk to her, but I can’t wait until she’s old enough to come visit me for the summer, or move out. It’s like playing politics at work, just try to stay out of trouble, do what you are supposed to do, and get out. Her and I have a special bond, I liken it to an Auntie Mame kind of thing. With me, she knows she can always reach out. I like that.

Then on to Miami. Planning for the event that is in two weeks. Being on the road is exciting, however, I am tired of being in gorgeous hotel rooms with no one to share with. My boss and I had this conversation in Mexico, the travel is great, the experience is awesome, but at the end of the day, someone to share it with would make it worthwhile. I did get to spend a glorious dinner with an old friend from college, catching each other up on our lives, drinking great wine, and even better mojitos, enjoying Miami through a thunderstorm. It is not a place I think I could live, but enjoy it for a few days, yes.

Getting back to someone to share trips with. I notice that while on the road I have so much time with myself that I get introspective, and become an observer of life, when I want to be out living it. Sharing it with someone. For a while I thought that someone I had found, but in MT I experienced the joys of being loved, and letting him love me, and the realization that love does not equal partnership. It is me that has to love me, and it is in the quiet moments that I get to love me—for what I am up to, for the life I am creating, and for the things I get to do and see. I don’t like being so self reliant that friends or family don’t stop to ask about what’s going on, I feel like the perpetual independent, the one who everyone thinks is fine. Recently, I have been reaching out to connect with friends that have gone to the wayside—inviting them out, talking to them, making plans.

Mexico City—I loved it. I spent almost every waking hour with A, who I now refer to as my husband. We shared everything—lives, dreams, disappointments, meals, cocktails, everything. He was my right arm, and I was his left hand. If you ever get the chance, go to Mexico City (although now is not a great time with the election problems). It is beautiful, and I will go back in the winter. I really loved it, and have started learning Spanish so that I can communicate better with people. Just an amazing country, I can see myself living there for an extended period of time. It is normal for people to take 2-3 hour lunches, and actually enjoy their food. Maybe even with a cocktail. When I came back, I have tried to do that, go out for an actual meal at lunch, and enjoy it, not at the two hour range, but for at least 45 mins. And so far, it’s been great, I feel rested and satisfied, not looking for cookies or a soda to perk me up, just happy and like I can go back to work and accomplish more.

One week, after Mexico, I stayed with my parents (my power was on and off that week) and it was just glorious being taken care of. Having someone to talk to when I came home. On the Friday, I was sad, my plans had fallen through for dinner with a friend, and I was upset. I told my dad, I am just tired of being alone, I want a boyfriend, someone to share this with, and he let me talk. I got weepy, and he just let me be. I was good to be that open with my pop. My mom, and the other hand, was doing everything not to have me be sad, and I asked her to just let me be sad and it would take care of itself. That I had to feel the emotion I was having rather than push it away. She let me, reluctantly, and I thanked her for it. The next morning I felt great, and pop and I went to an art show, and I bought the greatest magnet in the whole world “It took her years to weave the fabric of her life, and it said ‘I have come to live my life out loud’” my dad even liked it—he said “that’s you”. And it is.

Work is overwhelming at times, so much to get done and being the only person to take care of it. I am learning to delegate, and not feel bad about it. I don’t have to do everything myself, there is support to help me. I am taking a couple days after Miami to slow down, and then a week off in October to go visit my friend Anne K. in Ireland. It’s so important for me to do right by me.

I think that’s everything. There is always more, but as you can see, three pages later, I had a lot to say. The main issues for me are not being overwhelmed at work, reaching out for support, speaking my truth, and loving me so that I am open to be in a relationship that I can share this amazing life with. There is nothing to fix, I am not broken.

Peace, my friend Dawn. The journey is nothing less than incredible.
I love you—thank you for everything.

Kim

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Big Girl on Karma

I have information. That's the business I am in, and I have information on friends, family, and acquaintances. Most times, it's just information, a way to know someone better, to get inside their head, to know what it is to have their life, etc. Sometimes it's good information (birthday's, first boyfriends, the town where they grew up) and sometimes its interesting (the sexcapades of various friends, former lives as a Goth, nerd or baby Christian), and sometimes it could be harmful if it got out based on their lives.

So with this information, what do I do with it? Nothing really, just data stored in a place that could be swept away with one car accident or fall and bump on the head.

Then today, I made a decision. I have an ex that is trying to be a pillar of society, but their past is something left to be desired. A newspaper article from years ago came across my desk, and I reached out to the author. Well, not really. I started to write an email to the author that could bring this person down, just for a good story. Before I hit send, I thought, what could happen? A great story, but someone's (and actually many someone's) lives could be torn apart. The rebuilding effort would be enormous, and they would probably have to answer to the authorities, their reputation tarnished, and havoc would begin for friends, family, business acquaintances, and I may get drawn into it. I don't agree with them trying to be a pillar of society, and think what they are doing is wrong, but had to stop to ask if I was getting even for a wrong they had done me, or if I was generally concerned.

I was trying to right a wrong.

I sat before I hit send, and said out loud, Karma's a bitch, watch out. Then deleted the message. I don't want them to have to go through the havoc I would reek by sending an email. They are truly trying to start over, and I would diminish it just because I can. Because I have power, and am exerting it over them. I don't want to be that person. If I had such a problem with them, I can give it up, let it go, and release it back into the universe, instead of feeding it.

So, Karma's a bitch, and this time I didn't do something that may come back to haunt me. For my sake, for their sake, for all our sakes.

Tough decision, but I think revenge is a bad place to come from this time around. Karma will get you, and instead, I write this nice letter, rip up the article and never think on it again.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Big Girl on Adventure- Nashville

Last night D. called and we caught up on months and months of news. For her, a new life, a new city, and the expection of success, becoming who she was once again. She said 'It's like dusting off that old person, the one you have always wanted to be, and possibly were for a while and saying "Hey, I know you." It feels good."

Yes it does, sister.

She was asking if I was journalling all my travels and new experiences, as D. loves to read what I write. She thinks I am a great writer, I think I am an okay writer who happens to be funny. But this is an homage at her request.

The first trip I took this year for my job was Nashville. For two weeks I learned everything I could about the city. "The Athens of the South" the first de-segregated school system in TN, the heart of country music. I am a huge country music fan, from the days of dancing with Grampa in his bar, two stepping our way across the dance floor to the sounds of Patsy, Johnny and the like. It always brings me back to a quieter time. Also, Garth Brooks, what a cutie. My first real crush as a teenager.

Nashville was beautiful and sad at the same time. The locals tried to show me the "upscale" Nashville, nice restaurants, great neighborhoods. Here's the problem, I live in NYC, I know great food, I know classy joints, and I wanted to see nashville, country line dancing, cowboys that are trying to get a record deal, and $1.00 beers. I didn't want to be a local, I wanted to be a tourist, hear some music, by an unknown, wear a cowboy hat, put on too much makeup and laugh out loud. I went out one night late to Rippy's, a famous BBQ and music joint, and sat in the back, eating my sandwich, smoking Parliments, and watching the men.

The men. Big guys, big smiles, men who can twirl you around on a dance floor as easy as anything with no pretense of anything but a dance. I sat, and of course met the few gay men in town, who happened to buy me a beer, swing me around on the dance floor, and smoke some of my cigarettes. Even in Nashville, the fags can seek me out.

On my last night there, I had invited MT's old friend to meet me for shopping and dinner. It happened to also be in the midst of a severe storm. She showed up at the hotel, we smoked cigarette after cigarette listening to the news about the tornado that was coming. The loudspeaker came on, warning everyone to step away from the windows and go into an interior hallway or bathtub until the tornado passed. I sat on the bed, curtains flung open, waiting to see the funnel cloud that never appeared. The hail was golf ball sized, but still no funnel cloud. The tornado hit East Nashville, less than a mile away, destroying homes and businesses, but again, I saw no funnel cloud. I hope I never have to either. We went to dinner, talked about MT, and the end of our relationship, and I said goodbye... to a whole life that I never would know. No funnel clouds, no strange and interesting people connected to MT.

A month later, I went back for the conference. It really was an amazing time-- and well recieved. On one night, after cocktails, the whole bus wanted to go wherever I was taking them, and I took them to Rippy's. No dancing that night, however, great food, lots of laughter, and good times. I found out that later part of the contigency that had gone out drinking, ended up on the ground floor of the hotel finishing off their little bottles of Jack, barely making it to the workshop the next day. Most others just reeked of the alcohol that had downed in copious amounts the night before.

Nashville, I'd go back. I wouldn't live there, but I would sit for a spell.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Big Girl Dances


Yep, she dances.

J. told me that if I would get up on a table and bellydance, then she would consider going to a restaurant for a conference that is a little out of the price range. What she doesn't know is my belly is my greatest asset. Not my best, mind you, but my greatest.

First, it is large and round and I spend a lot of time fighting with it. It disagrees with me often (these pants are too tight, I can't breathe, and keep away that guy away), but my belly is a good friend to me. She is soft and round and moves, sometime too much for my taste, but she, like me, wants to be seen and watched. She protects me from unwanted, unsolicited attention, and keeps me warm. I always have something to hug.

Second, she loves to dance. With her friend, hips and butt, she shakes and shimmies and loves to move.

I started bellydancing years ago in high school, and although I am not very good at it, I love it. It is freedom, being sensual without being sexual, expression beyond compare. With arms and eyes, bellydancing is a very long invitation to wonder what, and if, life would be like if I was truly free to be expressed all the time.

Now, getting up on a table and doing it might be too much to bear. But still, how fun.....

Big Girl on her other blog

I spent time writing in another space, one that held me through some tough times. I wanted to share the squishier side of me, the side that is not so rough and tumble. And I wanted to get away from having many many blogs, so it's now all in one.....

Hmm, I like it more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stretched....Enlightened.

On the way to happily ever after, there are always a few bumps in the road. Most specifically, having a partner to share in the dream of happily ever after. But it doesn't have to be a dream, right.

I went out with C. the other night, and we made a pact to stop living practice lives-- or saving things for "maybe someday but not now" pile. That's where I have lived most of my life-- maybe someday for me, but not now. Not now for a relationship, not now for the awesome job, not now for the apartment I can be proud of, not now for meeting up with people I love to hang out and be together.

With this new career, I have to live in the now, and take care of things in the now. This feels great! To use my skills, my brain, my life in a way that has me feel taken care of and that I feel like I am learning something, and doing good. Instead of being smart, I can see that others expect it of me, and I rise to the challenge, and I am well liked and respected.

So in one area of my life, I am becoming more fufilled than I thought possible. Yes, around 4:30 on Friday I start to see the slump of the weekend, not sharing with that partner I'd like to be with, the imaginary boyfriend who will shire me away to our apartment and have the weekend to ourselves, sharing the city and each other's company until it is almost too much to bear. I want that.

I don't have that yet. What I have is NY Times online reading to do and learning about what it is I am here for. The creator put me on the Earth for something majestic, and it's up to me to keep following my instincts to what that is.....

Back to the non-practice life. I smiled at a man on the subway, he gave me his seat. Next day, same man, same smile, same seat. Unprecedented. That has never happened before. And being honest with MT-- saying what is so for me, and deepening friendship. Even when what it so is sadness, a wave of depression, I just rode it out, went to bed and woke up clearer, invigorated, and looking to express myself.

One step in being in the game, and not the practice is to get out and meet men. It doesn't matter who, just to meet, have small talk, flirt. Open myself up, get hurt if need be, and live. Another step is to create the day I want to have.

I create my day to be glorious. To be fufilled in every aspect, using my heart, mind and soul to touch others in a way that leaves them inspired. To honor those around me for their gifts, and to honor what I do not know will come. I will tread lightly, listen more, and be someone who is expressed and loved. If my day is going my way, the universe will show me signs that I am fufilled.

That oughta do it.

posted by Kim @ 8:06 AM 0 comments

Monday, April 24, 2006

Thinking.....

I have started thinking about dating again. I really hate the getting to know you period, I tend to ask a lot of questions, because I am getting the context to frame this stranger who sits in front of me.
Where they a good kid, or kind of a mess up?
Do they have a relationship with their family?
What about college, for them? Not for them?
Do they like their life, their job, their apartment, their friends?
What do they want out of life, what's their mark they want to leave?

Yah, just a bit intimidating.
I tend to be an information gather-er-- looking for interesting bits and pieces that make up the mosaic of the man in front of me. When I was with MT, and engaged, there was a moment as I was in the car with an old friend who was driving me to the airport-- "Stay engaged for a year-- through all the seasons and you will know everything you need to make a decision." What a concept. There is no hiding anything after a year, it's just as it is. No one can keep up that face or front for a whole year, there will be fights, there will be tears, and you will understand the measure of the man you have chosen.

I think it's great advice.

Not that there was anything wrong-- but you really can see what it is you are getting into after a year. Every season turns, every person has their ups and downs, and it is how you can work through it together. With MT, there was a great amount of safety, I felt comfortable with him in most everything. A great man. Through the seasons, if we had stood the test of time, might have told a different story. Alas, not for me.

I'm kind of an open book. I share everything, hold back only what's necessary. Life's too short. However, I do not live in the past, reliving glory days. When the moment creeps up on me, then I reminiscence and move on. I like my life, there are some aspects maybe I would change, but overall, I'm a good kid, a good girl, that likes to live a little on the edge sometimes, but most nights, you'll find me surrounded by friends, laughing. I like that.

So, thinking about dating again. Hmmm. Ask more questions up front. That's what I am gonna do. Reserve judgment. Be honest with being uncomfortable. Laugh loudly. Kiss more. Kiss a lot more.

I love to kiss. I need to find a man to kiss me back. Now that would be nice.

posted by Kim @ 6:35 PM 0 comments

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Oh, by the way....

Yes, that's how it started. A new job has caused me to be out of touch in a lot of realms. So i come back from a late night party and call MT. Idle chit-chat, catching each other up on life. And then...

oh, by the way.

He and another are getting married. Soonish, and low key, but happily ever after. She'll be his wife, and he'll be her husband. And life works out again.

I am truly happy for him, it is what he wants, what he needs. What he truly desires, all strings attached, and firmly in place. And I am tiny bits of jealous, and that doesn't work-- like jealous it's so soon, jealous it's not me, jealous that it will never be me. She'll have him at her side. He will be at her side. And that's forever.

And slowly I heal from the most deliciously devasting relationship I have ever had.

I love him, and continue to do so. There is something that is magestic and magnetic about him, and the chemistry is palpable. I wish I could have been a better stronger woman for him, take him in regards to no obstacles, and love him with nothing in the way. But alas, it was not meant to be.

The good news is she is lovely and everything he could ever ask for, and she treats him well and loves him for everything he is and is not. And that is beautiful and perfect. I pray for her strength and beauty, her grace and generosity. I pray for their future together, growing, learning, shifting and changing. Becoming a family together, merging lives together, becoming one. For that, I send my prayers to the universe, and leave it in its hands to decide their fate.

Such is life.

So what does this mean for me? Nothing really. Just wistful moments on what could have been. Ahh, like that Tiffany song, a little cheesy, sentimental, and always on the radio when I least expect it, catching me in moments that has me shed a silent tear.

May the universe bless your paths together, may your happiness be his, and his happiness be yours, may your lives entertwine and create a mosaic, a tapestry of love, honor, respect and joy forever.

I am now going to take the silent moments of my emptiness for myself. Become the watcher, become the background, and create the day to uncover my love.

oh by the way, thank you for this final release. It brings me peace.

posted by Kim @ 12:03 PM 0 comments

Sunday, March 05, 2006

One day more.....

Yesterday I spent the day napping and thinking. Thinking about what I want, and what others think I need. I know I need to take better care of myself, to give me the love and affection I deserve, that I give generously to others. Not wanting to get up and take action quite yet.

One of the things I want to accomplish this year is becoming a non-smoker. I have said it for years, and something says now is the time. Now is all we have really. I know I hide away behind a smoke shield so I can keep people away, keep people from getting to me, from getting to physically close, and so I can be a whole unit unto myself. I am tired of it, and now is the time to break the habit.

Also, I want to be someone that takes care of herself, regardless of how it looks. For instance, exercise always feels so delicious, and yet I make excuses of why I do not do it. Why I eat a certain way when I know it could be just as easy to eat another way. And it is just about taking care of me, so I can be the best me I can be.

Dating, not even thinking about it. A prospect to play with, perhaps, but dating no. Still talking to MT, still have that going. I do love him, he opened me in a way to truly know myself but I feel like this too will fade because I am confused by it. I feel un-needed, and it has me question his intentions. Hmmm.

I get that I need to be needed in a relationship, whatever it is, because it puts me in action, into the doing of life. Being is the hard part.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Big Lives

Or big lies, whichever.....

This past month I have spent only a couple days at home, travelling to North Carolina, Miami, and then Mexico. Mexico City is truly a sight to be seen, beautiful in a dirty kind of way, not like NYC, where the smell hits you before the sights, but in a glorious time remembered kind of way.

And the people. Ahh, the people, kind, generous, sweet and funny. My Spanish is lacking, but I got to communicate in English with my travelling buddy, and now husband, A. Okay my kind of not really husband, like the other string of not really kind of men in my life, but worthwhile company and absolutely charming. And the best husband so far. He gave up so much of his time, and I repaid him with massages to his back and to his ego. Great guy, will make someone very happy one day.

Anyhow, back to this big life. The job is so much more than I ever expected, it is awesome and delightful and I get to travel and be important and have people cater to me. But in the quiet of night, in the morning hours I want to share it with someone. I get sad, and think about taking better care of myself, getting out there and dating again. Maybe I am ready, but right now, I don't feel it.

I don't want to get into yet another situation where the one I adore is a cross dresser, a felon, gay or otherwise unavailable. So my heart keeps getting protected. From life I guess, so I live big lives out in my work and become a character of myself. Without the ability to feel, searching for something that is larger than myself to put my love into.

What I do love is seeing the laughter I created out there in the world. That makes me happy, but alone. If I keep on this path, I will continue to be alone and not involved, making fun of anyone who crosses my path. I'll be Mame and not have anything to hold onto late into that splendid evening. Hmm. Okay time for a shift.

I do want to take care of myself better, be in the moment. So I will do that, be present for my glorious-ness, and let it shine. Live loudly as I wish, and keep quiet as I wish. Open myself to charing and asking for what I need. That should do it.

If not, cocktail hour is on me.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Big Girl, Bigger Adventure

Recently I took a job that is truly my dream career. I get to be Julie the cruise director without ever being on the high seas. I also get to participate in having people learn about things that will have them be better in their jobs. And it's for a pretty cool company that does pretty cool things.

The bigger adventure was meeting, dating and the eventual breakup of a very intense and short relationship with a man I cared deeply for. I can say he was the first man ever that I have loved. It was very nice, and very sweet, passionate and I really could talk to him for hours. But alas, I am unwilling to settle for anything less thn that perfect feeling-- when I trust myself and him completely.

It's not that I didn't trust him, in fact, I trusted him more than myself. That was the problem. Trusting that what he wanted and said was the right thing, rather than my own opinion. Tursting him was no problem, it was in the quiet moments when he wasn't around that doubt crept in. That was a bigger issue. I was losing myself, not in the glorious way, but in the "I wonder what he'll think" way-- when my own opinion didn't matter, it was just what he thought. It wasn't his fault, but it had me pull back. And the pull back was a problem for him.

I don't think I'll ever be with a man who is over-protective. That doesn't seem to work. I'd rather be with someone that is interested in my opinion, and likes when I have one, and doesn't care if I don't. I don't think I am opinioned on things-- I'd rather pull up a chair and watch the show to be honest. Make my decision after the fact-- or have all the information in before I reach a verdict.

So love. Scary, right? It is, it is really scary. Because it's about letting someone love you warts and all, when the house is a mess, when your life is a mess, and there are no apologies or trying to hide anything. When you can just be you and he can just be him.

Sometimes I creep online to see if he will message me-- I usually give him a ten minute window. Anything beyond that is like ripping off a band-aid. I don't think I would go back if the circumstances were different, in fact, I would probably be, thanks but no thanks, but he did weave his way into my heart. He has so much love for life it's incredible-- I have it too, just in a controlled situational way. Sometimes we talk, and we share things in our lives, and I do enjoy that. But it was a seasonal relationship, and it too will pass. The coolest thing is that if I didn't have him in my life, I would have never gotten this job-- we had a little tiff, so I applied one late night, and bingo-- job. A whole new career, in over my head, and loving every single swimming minute of it.

Ahh-- to be loved and love in return. What could be more glorious?