Snackie's World

I stood leaning against my car, trying to look mad when all I really was feeling was some sort of undefinable pain.  He walked to where I was standing, arms crossed, and upon seeing the look on my face, took my hand and said, “Come on inside and let’s talk, okay?”.  I reluctantly let him rub my back as I walked into his front door, knowing what was about to come.  I found the familiar spot on the floor in the corner of the room then sat down and curled my knees up to my chest…a position that had only recently become comfortable after having lost 25 pounds.    I wanted to look up at him but I couldn’t.  My eyes darted across flecks of carpet and sunflower seed shells that had found their way under his couch.  It was like I was under water, trying desperately to hold on to the anchor keeping me there rather than coming up and gasping for air.

“I came…”, I started to say, “I came to…”.

My words trailed off as the flood gates opened and tears started streaming down my face.  These weren’t the kind of tracks that formed when soft tears fall but rather the kind that had been bottled up for too long.  There was a sobbing that I had only maybe felt once or twice before, back when I actually allowed myself to cry.

He came to where I was sitting and wrapped himself around me as best he could.  He took my head and put it on his shoulders and said, “I know.  I know.  I know.“  He held my hand and listened to me for hours.  I had come to tell him that I was wrong and that I was sorry (baby).  I had been distant, aloof and cold because I was afraid to feel.  I wanted him to know that I was done turning it off and that I was able to be myself again.  I wanted to tell him so many things but he knew just by the way I held his hand and clung to him for dear life.

That was the first time I had cried over a man or to a man in quite some time.  In fact, it was the first time I had cried over much at all.

This afternoon as I relayed this story to a co-worker, her mouth dropped open in complete shock.  “Wait“, she said, “You cried over a boy?  You don’t cry…especially not over men.”

It was at this moment that I realized just how cold and hard I had recently made my heart.  I mean, not only that but I had locked the damned thing up so tight that no one could see just how rapidly it was bleeding on to the floor.  I’ve held it all in…the pain, the resentments, the anger, the fear and most of all the utter devastation of certain losses.  I’ve done what I always do but this time with an army’s strength.  My foot would stride in front of the other over and over again until I had tucked my hair under my helmet like a good little soldier and had become immune to emotional gloom.  I put on my sunshine smile and met each loss and each obstacle with a genuine rationale that none of them mattered as long as I focused on the good and amazing things in my life.  You know, finding the good in things is never a bad idea at all but as human beings with such varied emotions, we have to be able to take those face punches and let the bruises show rather than hiding them with make-up.

It’s not a falsehood that my life is good because really, it is.  I am blessed to have a man who sticks by my side, waiting patiently for me to be able to commit and be ready to love again.  On the flip side of that, I’ve had young men crawling all over me and offering me their paltry affections while I heal my heart and decide what I truly want.  My friendships feel more genuine than anything I’ve ever known because I am finally allowing myself to just be the me that I want to be, no apologies.  In fact, it was awesome the other day when one of my besties said to me, “Okay, you have to tell me when things are bad in your world because I am oblivious and think you are always okay.  I feel like such a bad friend” and I was able to turn around and honestly look at myself then say, “It’s not really your fault.  I hide myself away from the world and only show you the happy side most times.  You’re not a mind reader.”

I guess what I’m trying to work through now are the sad emotions.  There are unspeakable losses that I’ve suffered over the last few months and while some were my fault and some certainly were not, they mattered.  Just because I am not the type of person to weep all over my page here at any given moment like I used to, that does not mean that I am incapable of feeling.  In fact, it’s quite the opposite.  I have been giving away so many of my precious affections to the people that are constantly in my face that I have forgotten that it’s okay to mourn the losses of those that aren’t.  Saying that I miss someone’s presence in my life is not the same thing as surrendering and admitting defeat…it’s just an honest declaration of the way my guts feel on any given Sunday.  Just because I’m healthy enough to know when other people are bad for my life that does not mean that I’ve forgotten how they once made my heart smile.

I’m not callous.  I’m not cold.  I’m not the woman “who doesn’t cry and especially not over men”.  I’m not a soldier.  I’m not hard.

Behind the bright smile and the constantly flowing jokes lies a person just like you…a person who is doing her best to survive in a world gone mad.  I make mistakes like everyone else and I pay for them…like everyone else.  A man who I am not supposed to care about one bit hurt me so deeply this last weekend that I cried in his arms, despite the fact that I’ve only known him a few months.  I sat in the middle of another man’s living room, finally showing him that I was ready to love after telling him for such a long time that love was a fairy tale only to be stomped upon by giants and ex-husbands.  I reached out to my best friend yesterday and basically said, “I need you.  When can I see you?”.  I sit here, for the first time in almost six months, opening myself back up to you, my readers.  I’ve only been showing you half of me for quite some time because I wasn’t ready to face some of the pain again.  I wanted to go on living my life of dancing, drinking, smoking the weed and dating much younger men.  I wanted to go on smiling and pretending that it’s all going to be okay as long as I never let myself hurt again.

The truth is that yes, it *is* all going to be okay but the only way to make that happen is to cry just as much as a laugh, scream just as much as I’m silent, reach out just as much as I retreat and to apologize just as much as I assume and attack.  There is no yang without my yin and in my maniacally happy state, I forgot that allowing myself to feel the bad didn’t necessarily mean that I would go back to the same misery I felt a year ago at this time.  In fact, I think that as of today…right now…I am the most balanced I have been in quite some time.  This is why I am finding it so easy to lose weight.  This is why I am finding it so easy to bond with my friends.  This is why I am ready to tell him that I only want to be his and that I think…I think I may love him.

Best Friends Forever Kisses,
Me

I keep meaning to sit down and write about my little lovely adventures but the moment I try to do so, more of my life starts happening and I just don’t want to miss a second of it.  In the last week of my life, all of the little bits and pieces that somehow seemed a bit shattered dried up and were swept away in the knowledge that I am happy and that I have a really good life.

It’s so easy to forget that.  There are moments where we feel so small and alone and in those moments, it’s easy to let fear and anger take over.  Hurt is something that touches all of our lives and whether or not we let it consume us is an actual choice.  It has taken me forever and ever to get it.  I was always the girl who was more freaked out about the one bad thing some random nobody said about her rather than the fifty good things the gaggle of good people in her life had to say.  My life was unhappy and in that unhappiness, it was easy to accept the wrong emotions rather than work hard to embrace the good ones.  Again, this was *my* choice and something that I had to come to terms with in my recent adult life.

People have come and gone a lot in my recent years and no matter who said what to whom or did what to whom or all of that other stuff that nobody truly remembers in the end, they were there.  Each person I have known has touched me and shaped me despite the current empty space where they once stood.  To pretend that they didn’t exist is foolish and cruel but to let their absences break me is something I will never do.  I spent a good year letting the memories of things that I had shared with my ex-husband taint those things forever.  My sudden hatred towards Los Angeles and my inability to watch any television show that centered around Las Vegas were ways in which I was letting the “memory of us” hold me down.  So we shared songs, vacations and other various things that will come up again in my present life.  Why in the HELL did I let the pain and anger of our bad moments take away from the fact that Vegas makes me squeal like a child and that I bowled drunk with some of my best friends in the middle of Hollywood?  I was allowing negative thoughts and emotions to rule my head space.  In my pain, I created a world that was always seen through the eyes of what was wrong and hardly what was right.

These days, I wake up each morning and count at least five blessings.  Seriously, as I’m stumbling around looking for the brown nectar of the Gods then doing my morning stretches, I try to come up with five things that really make me smile.  This morning, I beamed at the memory of an amazing weekend with friends and a sexy sexy boy that made me squeal like an adult!  I was touched by the fact that one of my best friends contacted me out of the blue to let me know that he is visiting me next month just because he misses me.  I was stoked that a musician friend of mine asked if I wanted to sing backup when he starts playing shows again.  I was grateful for the best friend who cooked me super duper yummy pretzel dogs then went clothes shopping with me for hours afterward.  And then I held my breath and sighed as I remembered the little puppy who cozied up to my neck and cried when I had to let her go…

My moments are my bliss and in this new life that I am constantly carving out for myself, I am finding it easier to live a happy life when I remember to open my eyes and see exactly what it is that I *do* have rather than stressing what I don’t have.   There is always going to be something out there to make me cry or wish I had done things differently but my goodness, I refuse to focus on that simply because…

I refuse to be broken.  Not now.  Not ever again.

Davey-Joe Chocolate Pudding Kisses,
Me

Awhile back, I started dating someone named Scott.  Now then, Scott is fantastical in every way and he’s the first man in ages (probably since meeting my ex-husband) to give me the kind of butterflies that make me weak in the knees but strong in the heart.  He’s got a smile that can melt butter, a sense of humor that makes me snort more than usual  and such a kind, even temperament.   While one of Shawn’s mottoes was “people suck, good luck!”,  Scotty’s completely the opposite and always says, “People will surprise you in good ways if given the chance.”.  It’s refreshing to be around someone who is so positive and not really sarcastic and snarky like almost everyone else I know, including myself.  Don’t get me wrong…the man is funneh like honey but he’s just not ruthlessly snippy like other people can be.

There’s just one problem with our relationship…Scott is the kind of man you *marry* and well kittens, I’m just not sure how to let myself love someone that much again.  To be crystal clear, I am over my ex-husband in every way possible.  In fact, I really fucking wish our divorce would hurry up and get finalized so that I could fully move on from ever having to talk to him again. It’s not that I hate him or wish him ill…quite the contrary, really. It’s just that it’s time to move on now and without these final steps being walked, I don’t feel like I can fully do that.

Uh anydoodle, back to present day…shesh.

The thing is that well…I think I’m scared.  I keep flitting around, telling everyone that I’m just not ready to settle into something serious.  I also often bring up the fact that I really need to spend time focusing on sticking with my career and growing it as well as taking care of my body by living a healthy lifestyle. Amazingly, through every walk of my life, I am living it differently than I ever have before and my dears, I no longer talk the talk when I can’t walk the walk.

As far as my job goes, I’m putting that hammer down.  I’ve revamped my policy on calling in sick whenever I get a hangnail and have developed this amazing work ethic like never before. As far as my health goes, I’m over here quietly shredding pounds faster than a speeding bullet while working out and owning my body.  I just don’t talk about it as much as other people do because unlike the droves of women who can blog about weight loss and be successful, I do much better at a weight-loss regime when I am on my own, not tied to a group or a diet blog.  Um, you know me, I’m not judging…I’m just saying that I am wonky in the fact that I don’t like group weight loss one bit.  Most people find it a comfort and oh my GOD, why am I justifying my own damned statements.  I promised myself I would not do that ever again, sheesh!

Back to the subject at hand, for goodness sake.  Here’s the thing…I think I am scared to fully let myself love again and somehow subsequently lose myself in another man’s life.  It’s not that I worry about him hurting me because let’s face it…I am a strong woman who can bounce back from pretty much anything.   Nay nay, I think that I worry about becoming less of myself by being with someone else.  I wasn’t able to do it right the first time and what if I fuck it all up this time too?  What if I screw myself out of being the independent, free-spirit that I’ve finally reclaimed by falling in love with this man?  What if I don’t remember everything I’ve learned over the last year and a half of my life?  What if I’m sitting here in yet another seven years, age 45, wondering once again how it all went wrong?  And most importantly, what if I never learn how to overcome this fear and ditch this mentality?

So yeah, a few weeks ago, because of all of this shit, I asked Scott if we could slow it down.  He’s been really great about giving me my space but sends emails and texts now and then that simply say, “When you’re ready.  I am not going anywhere”.  Every time I see one of those, my heart quakes yet still, I don’t have it in me to answer him.  The other day, he saw a friend of mine out on the town and was expressing his frustration at the fact that I never even call him back or message him that much.

My friend said, “You know what?  If she can’t call you back then fuck her.  Why are you waiting around?  There are plenty of fish in the sea!”

To which he replied, “Yeah but…I want to swim with her.”

It’s weird how her telling me that little tale allowed my heart to swell so much that I reopened the lines of communication and made plans to see him this weekend.  I miss him and miss the way he makes me feel inside, to be honest. I guess I just need to figure out a way to conquer whatever fears seem to be eating me in the love-life arena.  I mean, how is it that I never let *anything* break me because I am so strong but my heart? Yeah, that damned this is soft and squishy and really can’t handle being broken yet again.  I mean, I just cannot have one more unhealthy relationship and truth be told, I am way more worried about my actions than Scott’s.

I really don’t know the answer but maybe just getting this out of my head will help.  It’s weird being on this side of divorce because you know, I’m no longer desperate to fall in love and get married like I was in my early 30′s.  I’m kind of content just enjoying the ride and seeing where it takes me.  However, one day I really am going to need to make a decision because it’s not fair to this man who, for all intents and purposes, deserves healthy emotional love from a very good woman.  Can that woman be me?  I guess we shall see!

Platonic Or Not Kisses,
Me