Someday over the rainbow...

One day, perhaps, this place won't be full of so much angsty crap. Soon would be nice. But don't worry about me, I'm actually feeling pretty fine. Painting helps so much, so do the wonderful comments I have gotten (you know who you are!) and the general knowledge that life goes on (and then you die). Maybe the next HNT (since I have missed so many now) will feature both the latest painting and me? I'll try.

Recent research has shown (I read this in a Psych pub) that knowing when an experience will end - that it is a finite experience - makes us value it more. Oh my, what does that say about relationships?

I have noticed in re-reading my posts that I am the queen of run on sentences. What can I say, I think in them. That makes avoiding writing them in personal narratives so damn hard. I apologize both for my grammar and my disjointed sometimes jumbly blather. I am apologizing both to you - and to me.

The End.

Ouch.

8 days?? Oh my. Well... let's just say I needed/required the escape. My BFF lost another family member, I've had a fever, and Spring Break officially started - though for me that's meant lots of time alone with the pets. I haven't turned my computer on in several of those days... and only thought to come here tonight when I missed connecting with/checking in on those I've come to feel close to from the blogosphere (the lovely Sasha & Wilhemina most notably - but I also missed the wit of Roland & AAG, and the thought-provoking posts of Essen Em quite a lot as well). How quickly this place has almost become another friend - one who inspires me, comforts me, makes me laugh, and provokes me to new lines of thought. I did however find myself avoiding Merlin's blog... because I didn't want to think about love. No fault of those two - but I can't even seem to masturbate lately without getting mired in my own worries about my relationship.

SP being gone for 20+ days has set my mind on this odd tangent. I think normally I would have not thought much about him and would have reveled in my time alone - but having his dog here has made thoughts of him a very regular occurrence. I didn't want to think about US like this - I think I've very carefully avoided it for a long time. His and my relationship is one of potential - lots of unfulfilled potential (and it was a year in October - another thing I studiously avoid thinking about). Lots of not sharing our innermost desires, dreams, etc. Why? I'm not entirely sure... but I do know without doubt it's been a choice we both made. Perhaps this is one of those cases where the past hinders your future.

That train of thought always makes me crazy. The tracks go two ways: hope and recrimination. Hope that we're right for one another, that we want a future together, that if we confronted that all these trappings would fall away and we would really live that dream out fully together. Recrimination because I know in reality we probably are not right (the whole kid debate we stand on different sides of is a dealbreaker... and then there's a list of things including the ever-important: do I want to be with someone forever who clearly sort of finds it icky to finger me, one of my fave things ever?). I think it's kind of ridiculously hard on me to consider leaving someone who is so GOOD. He's a great person - someone I admire, respect, and sort of love. The passion hasn't been present of late - but I still can't see the forest for the trees with that. It could have been my scary physical concerns and other stressors as easily as it could be us. See what I just did there? I made another excuse to hope. DAMN IT. I wish I was the strong one who could point to the not-good-enough-for-me stuff and walk the fuck away. I'm not though - see the last post for more evidence of that. The little girl in me who is always dying to be loved just can't. She's so afraid no one else will... and she feels that if no one else ever could love her... well then she'd rather have mediocre with someone she really admires and respects than nothing at all.... How do I come to terms with this when there is so much good stuff here? It just hasn't materialized into anything like what I really want... or even some of what I have had before and know I am capable of....I already know I have to talk to him soon after he gets back. Ugh.

So yeah, the postsecret doesn't fit this post yet, but it will in a second. Today I hit a point of alone I didn't like. It wasn't happy anymore, I kind of wanted to kill the dog. And looking at the canvas I want and don't want to paint for SP was defeating me. So I gathered up my paints... and decided to watch The Tudors and paint. Just to get out of my head again (I read Duma Key by Stephen King in its entirety the day before to accomplish that goal) as fast as possible. Lo and behold I get an IM! I had sort of been waiting by the phone and computer for something from the BFF - she has been MIA and needing some space - however, it wasn't her. It was E.

All my character list says about E is that he was a fling from years ago. Well... he might have been a bit more than that - and we've always been the kind of friends who can pick up where they left off. He was my rebound from my 7 year relationship with my so-called soulmate. He was the 2nd person I have ever had sex with. My first sexual experience with a woman was actually a 3some involving him. His penis is almost beautiful, and we all know that's rare. I've never understood it but I have always liked him - first as a person, and then as a sexual partner. No one else ever thinks he's good enough for me or seems to like him very much... but I do. I always have, and yet I've never taken him seriously as a possible partner either. He's never been ambitious enough beyond wanting to get me naked. I don't want to drag someone through life - the first boyfriend would have required that and I learned my lesson well. However, I know very well that E views me in near-soulmate territory. The guy gets me, and is highly capable of getting me off too.

I haven't talked to him on the phone in 2 years, though we IM regularly. But today... I did. I have to say in the past my willingness to talk to him on the phone has been a precursor to the death knell of my relationships. It's weird the patterns we create for ourselves. I made the excuse that it was because I can't type and paint (I can't, but still) and that I was sick of being alone with my thoughts. I don't lead him on, because I'd hate myself if I did. Yet I know he really and truly thinks that one day I'll be single again and I'll think of him first.

Will I? I don't know.

All I know is that I let him back in a little bit more because... it is so nice to have a champion. He is my champion. He's smart, funny, calls me out on my BS, sexy, and more than that he never seems to think a bad thought about me - even when he's calling me out... it's kind of scary actually... Support, unconditional love, intellectual and sexual stimulation, humor, creativity, etc.? I also know that as of tonight I can't get off if I'm thinking of SP at all, but when E crept into the brain there was no problem. That's probably what made me write this post - and what will have me sticking to porn rather than my imagination for the next 10 or so days.

Chicken?

My last post was a bit disjointed (and that was after edits)... like my thoughts often seem to be. They jump and twist and move and ramble around one another in bright ribbons that in no way resemble the 'train' of thought I have been taught I am supposed to have. They're unruly and mercurial and rarely end up where I expect them to.... much like me.

One of my best friends, the BMF aka Frances, broke up with me yesterday. Or did I break up with him? I really don't know. Hey, at least this time I didn't inherit a cat - that's a first.

What I wish could have happened - that we could have scaled back the friendship and let it grow in a different way... didn't happen. I didn't ask for that though- the words failed me. It hurts, and it hurts to know I hurt someone I care for. The worst part is that in trying to get what I did want but in not communicating it - I ended up with nothing and he got to sort of say the final things you would say in these moments.... but I didn't get that chance. I didn't get to say I hope his mother is ok, that he finds the happiness he's looking for, that he gets that job he wants, etc. All the nice things you wish for those you love but may not get the chance to see them succeed once you burn the bridge that connects you to them.

...all I see in your response are excuses. Don't have time? That's bullshit and you know it. You just don't want to deal with something that is somewhat uncomfortable. And I don't agree that you respect me. This whole process has shown that you respect me so little that you can't be the least bit honest with me or yourself...I've watched you dismantle friendships with everyone and outwardly I thought I was immune, but I always knew it would happen to me. I gave you an opportunity to redeem yourself in a respectful manner, but instead you have chosen the easy way out...I hope you succeed and someday have enough confidence in yourself that you stop looking to others to provide it for you. I hope you someday realize that what you want and what you need are two different things. I hope someday you stop using the bad things you do to gain attention.

Mostly, though, I hope you find love and leave your cynicism for the dreamless.

Goodbye and good luck.

I only included the parts that stung a bit, or puzzled me in some way. It's also hard to not explain yourself to someone who has always understood you when you did. There are things in his good-bye e-mail I'd like to respond to, but it feels like egoist posturing to do so - and I'm not going to do that.

This is another pattern of mine in a way - it seems like when things end where I am involved it's often messy. After the end with my first ex which was a pretty clean break, all the rest of my friendships and relationships have ended more messily than I would like. Many were unnatural endings. I am not sure if it's due to my inability to communicate in these situations or due to the fact that I have changed a lot over this time - which means patterns of learning and painful growth. It could be because I do choose the easy way, or because I have become more indecisive in these situations. In any case this is not something I want to continue.

I'm an agnatheist - meaning I don't really care right now how we got here or where we go when we die. It's just not important to me right now. Maybe it will be again, but considering it's unfathomable... meh. So I don't know if I believe in the above in THOSE terms... but I do believe that maybe I haven't earned my own rewards yet.

This week was full of fail. FULL OF IT. However, now.... it's more than fine, it's lovely! So let's play a little game of catch-up. (I'm sorry I didn't get in here sooner - life refused to give me the opportunity.)

Monday... it snowed here. Which is not normal, trust me. Soooo when I went to the doctor to my appointment - they were closed. They didn't bother to call - so I braved the ice, downed power lines and trees, and was PISSED to have done so. They remained unreachable until Tuesday afternoon when they then informed me it would be FRIDAY before I could see the doctor and that she had not yet reviewed my results. Which of course they could only tell me in the middle of my teaching a class. Sometimes I get so annoyed at the complete lack of professionalism present in some small-town businesses. I grew up in the big city - I liked it.

Friday rolls around - I had to rearrange my entire schedule to make the appointment - but I had the best possible results! My cells are stage 1 - meaning 70% chance of no further negative developments and all I currently need is a check up in 6 months. The longer I had to wait the harder it was getting to believe things would actually be ok for some reason. So this was more than good news.

Other funny fails of this week: I fell off the bus rather than stepping off of it properly, I threw a bowling ball behind me rather than down the lane, I put on a pair of pants that had a bug in them and subsequently killed it with them on, removed the bug, and then was forced to wear them for the rest of the day, the cold made my car radio turn the volume off by itself repeatedly one day further adding to the insanity that was everything I touched this week, and subsequently well... yeah.

So now that we've gotten all of that out of the way you can see why there was no HNT this week, haha.

Snapshot of this moment: The sun is out, it's 72 degrees and breezy (yes, after snow on monday and hell yes I plan on debuting a bikini top for hiking tomorrow!!! SCORE!) . All of my windows are open, and the main doors, letting in as much light and breeziness as possible. I have an orange kitten on my lap, a black one laying next to me with her paw over her face, and a medium-sized cute black mutt on the floor at my feet. There's a massive canvas leaned against the far wall with canvas on the floor... all ready for me to paint on it. All in all, it's a beautiful day.

- My thesis draft is out and it should only be 3 weeks or so until I get my proposal date set. It's really happening this time!! I'm so happy and excited! This is my focus at the moment - getting it done by August to ensure my future.
- SP, the boyfriend, got out of town to India for 3 weeks a-ok. He had some help from me on that one, and of course the mutt on the floor is his. Or I should say mine for almost a month! Luckily she's a wonderful dog. She and I are going hiking tomorrow! I'm interested to see how his being gone is going to feel for me. Our relationship has been such a different one ... one of initial attraction and liking but then a slow, hesistant progression to a deep connection. Now we regularly tell each other we love each other. I've gotten pretty used to his place in my life and talking to him daily (a habit he started that I didn't even realize I got used to until lately), sleeping wrapped up completely in each other, and our 3 nights in a row seeing each other (2 with friends, 1 just the two of us) every week. Still - we never talk about the future and I think we both feel that next December when he graduates we'll part ways. Even though we've never talked about it, and I don't think I want to. My being willing to paint something on that canvas meant for him is a bigger deal than anyone could understand. I have never done that for anyone but my mother without payment involved. It's odd - and it has had me thinking more about what I bring to the table and about working on what it is I really want to give and to get. Does this even make sense? Not in terms of SP per se, just in terms of life. I want/like certain things in a partner and in my friends... do I give those things? Am I a good partner? Or is it me that limits my relationships? Something to ponder while I do some much-needed spring cleaning around here and perfect questions to have swirling between my ears while I'm painting. There's nothing better for that besides emotions and wonder.
- One of my TA assignments has been completed for the semester, I won't have much more to do for it in the future. Which is insanely exciting - hooray for putting in almost 60 hours on it in the last week so I don't have to deal with it hardly at all for the rest of the semester! (It's only supposed to be 10 hours a week.)
- I finally have a little time and space to get some sleep. I had a bought of sleep paralysis yesterday - so clearly I need it!

And that's my life in all it's glorious inconsistency.

Well, the waiting for the letter is over. My first official thesis draft is written and turned in, and until I get notes back - I'm actually caught up in everything grad school related. For the first time in 2.5 years, yay! Now I just have to get myself through to tomorrow and go to my appointment to find out what the results of my biopsies are.

My BFF Anne's father died this week. She's dealing with a horrible mess. SP is heading out of town for 3 weeks on Friday and is swamped in general. And I feel like I'm being silly by feeling so restless and antsy and on edge today - I feel like I need them but I don't know what I even want from them. Thank goodness for fluffy cuddly kitties. And maybe ice cream later..... :)

All of this is just making me think about choices. I dreamed about them all night last night. I think one of the odd side effects of living the life I did was that growing up I always felt like I was on the outside... looking in at a different world. I never really got to do the things all the other kids were doing, I rarely got to indulge my own whims - except for reading. My mom found ways to be sure I had books, yay libraries!! I sought a secure, well-paying career that was based solely on individual effort... I chose to get a PhD because it's something that to me gauranteed security in this world. Once I have it, I can never UNhave it.

My childhood has also left me with this almost desperate need to indulge my desires now. I hate being left out when my friends/loved ones are having amazing experiences. I always want to be a part of them - to see them happy and to share in it rather than just doing things alone all the time. I constantly worry that I'm not doing enough - having enough experiences. I want them NOW. I like to be alone, but the really amazing things I'd prefer to share. 'Experiences' bring you closer to people, help deepen your bond, and I think it's sad I have few of those with the people who matter most to me... the people I would most like to share them with. (I am not downgrading the value of just being able to exist with those closest to you though - to sit and understand one another without saying a word - that's invaluable as well.) I hope this is the good kind of crazy - the kind that just spurs you to be more and better and to 'follow your bliss' per se.

I wish I had chosen a job that allowed me to have more of the types of experiences I crave - but I didn't even know there were jobs like that until it was much too late and my feet were too far down this path to turn back. Now I just want this job to allow me options to make/have the experiences I want: time and gifts/care for those I love and value in this world, travel, animal conservation/experiences, the chance to see/feel different things and places.

I've actually started evaluating what I want to do with my degree based on the opportunities it will give me to fulfill this idea.
Teaching: More time off, flexible schedules, more eternal impact with students, more intellectual pursuits, etc.
Consulting: My money, possibly travel involved, more variety of projects and people.

I think all of this babble is really just a result of me wondering if tomorrow I will be asked to make a choice that affects the rest of my life. Or if I will be presented with something straightforward, or if my body has already made choices about my future for me. I'll find out soon enough.

The letter.

You look down and see an old envelope, with a yellow rose of Texas stamp on it that cost $.32 cents. The envelope has a little splash of gold glitter on it, like it's been stored in a junk drawer somewhere. As you flip it over, you see the flap hasn't been sealed. Inside is a self-sticking mailing label - so old that the glue is a deep antique gold color and has become useless. On the front is an address - your address from years upon years and moves upon moves ago. The handwriting is distinctive... but feels oddly childlike to you. Oddly large letters, mostly capitals... and yet you'd swear you write your own N's just like that.

You put the label back in the envelope and remove the letter hiding behind it. One piece of paper, removed from a legal-sized pad. Folded 6 times longways, and once down the middle. It's dated clearly on the top right... 2/15/98, Sun. You start to read...

Hi [Your Name],
This is your long lost DAD, a... father a.... or whatever you want to call me; Hey watch it, you know what the Bible says about that. Watch your tongue, oh well! OOPS!
I certainly am looking forward to meeting you. I've always loved you and sensed a longing for all the things I missed ^experiencing & seeing as you've grown up. I just recently acquired a photo of you when you were 13, it looks like a school picture. My my you have gotten big. The other or last picture I had of you was of a snaggle-toothed 4 yr. old. A tiny little thing!
Thanks to ^Aunt Cindy I also got some pictures of summer 96 when that you and [your mother's name] came to the Ganty House. Thank God for small favors! Also Brooke & Cindy, and Ashley's feet are in the photo too!
It appears to me that [your mother's name] has done a good job of raising you and that God has had his hand on you too; or maybe their in unison. Anyway you look like a million to me and my hopes for you span the universe. That's just the way us daddies think! You were a delight as a child and I'll bet you always will be.

A true friend forever,
Daddy [Your father's name]!

You feel... nothing as you read the words. And that spurs a rush of relief. As you refold the letter some other emotions begin to trickle down. A little bit of grief over the fact that he never understood you, and clearly did not want to - no matter what he thought he wanted. A little bit of thankfulness surfaces - that he stayed out of your life when you would have let him in. A bit of wonder for if the drugs forced him into what seems to you like an oddly surface and childlike response to what you wrote... but in all honesty deep down the main idea running through the back of your mind while you read was: BULLSHIT. Every line felt like one a salesman would tell you as he tried to convince you that his snake oil was different - it would finally do what you had been promised all the others would do. You begin to refold the letter, placing it back behind the label, in the glittery envelope with a stamp that will never be used. As you walk into the room where you keep your important papers and mementos in a filing cabinet, you ponder just where to put this one. You don't want to put it with the cards you get - you like to look at those when you have a bad week. As you open the file drawer you decide to just put it in a blank folder in the back behind the other memento folders. Once that's done, you head back into the rest of your little apartment - back to your life.

***

When I was 14, I wrote my father a very deeply thought out letter, that I drafted over and over. I labored over it longer and with more thought and care than I have any paper I've written up until my thesis. It did begin with me saying I felt that the title Daddy needed to be earned. He spat on that idea twice in this letter. I knew that might hurt his feelings... but I can't say I cared then or do now. I was only interested in getting to know someone who would accept the truth of my life without him, and choose to overcome it or start fresh. This man took all of my mother's money and all of their things in the divorce (he was quite the charmer from everything I hear... silver-tongued, charismatic, etc.), he even went back and took the money given to the funeral home so my baby brother would have a headstone. I understand that was an addiction thing... but I honestly don't care. He chose to try a drug known to be that addictive - heroin. He was clearly dumber than I am. He never paid child support - not once in my entire life. I have lived in someone's garage before, suffered verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of family members we've been forced to live with (not talking about my mother - she's a different story and she never abandoned me). There were times we only had donated food to eat, and donated clothes to wear, and donated roofs over our heads, but we had them and we had one another. I had a stress related ulcer in the 3rd grade. He made sure the one thing he did have when he killed himself (which I strongly believe is the coward's way out... it's much harder to live than to die) - a house my mother paid for - went to his mother and my aunt. I didn't want it - but it was sneakily done to make sure his only living child would get nothing from him.

I know that he got photos of me, I saw them when I was in the Ganty House. So... he also lied... or he was such a ruin of a person from the years of hard living and substance abuse that he didn't even know. From the sounds of things he was really only clean when he was in prison - though I can't be sure of that. My only real information source about him are his mother and sister... and his mother regularly crafts her reality out of smoke and mirrors (she blamed my father not being in my life on my mother... there's not a thimble of truth in that). My aunt I just don't know well enough to know.... but she went along with the stories my grandmother told the two times I spent any time with her.... and well, I'm not one who likes to deal with that. If my life taught me one thing - it's that trust must be earned. Liars don't tend to do very well at that one - no matter how well meaning the lie is... I have no desire to embrace a false reality and won't put up with one just to humor them either.

I don't blame him for anything negative that has happened in my life, and I am extremely grateful for the experiences that I have had (now that they're in the past)... but once upon a time there was a creative imaginative little girl who truly believed she was lovable. Who never had a shadow of a doubt about it - and he killed her... he killed her every time she tried to come back to life. He ruined my belief that anyone can provide me with security, that anyone will ever actually love me above others - like I would like to do for someone else someday. Combine him with my mother - and I am not sure I can ever believe in relying on someone else. It's sad in a lot of ways.

The final part of all this is that my aunt got my mother's e-mail hoping to get my e-mail from her later. But she hasn't used it. I told my mom if she asked to talk to me, I'd be happy to talk to her. I'm not trying to make them work to get to know me... I'm just looking for proof that they're not using me to make themselves feel better. That entire family seems to be all talk. My aunt has reached out twice... but even when she does it always feels like they want something. They wanted me to come to the funeral... why? To remind me that they have a fantasy of my life? To give me the blanket my father had on his lap when he shot himself in the chest, what was the purpose of that? To parade me in front of all his friends and family who never knew me? To make me wander the house I was born into, where my room still looked the same and my mother's handwriting was still on the walls in the laundry room.... why?? What was the point?

THIS is why children are so important to me. I've been the eternally unwanted. That sounds so dramatic, but it's pretty true. I kept looking for a good male figure as I grew up... I don't know if that was instinct, reaction to my mom's sometimes abusive ways, or what. I wish I had found one.
- The man my mother was with that raised me (he had a huge impact on me and was always the man who was my mental father)... eventually left her, but not me for a while... but then he also left me, because his new girlfriend didn't like me.
- After that she eventually married my stepfather. He and I hated one another.... openly. He openly disliked me. Very pleasant 5 years of my life there. His 3 kids moved in, I got to share my mother and my home with them, and the man hated me. I gave as good as I got.... but he was a nasty loud fighter. When he and my mother would fight I would sneak out or hide. I can't say he did anything good for my ideas of men.
- My grandfather verbally and emotionally abused me when we lived with him to the point that it was years before we could talk again. I watched him physically assault my mother. He took everything we had including our current home, and he made sure we lost everything we had in storage when he left too- bye bye childhood. That was the 2nd time I had to give away my pet because we lost our home too - because of him.
- I've had not 1 but 2 pastors turn on me. I trusted my youth pastors, I was a girl in trouble looking for guidance who was too serious for her peers. One ended up being a wonderful figure in my life for a while.... then he began to embezzle money.... and things got weird both with me and in the church. The other did much the same thing. He used me as a poster child to bring people into the church, tried to convince me my 'gift' was hands-on healing (I was a praise singer) and then when one of the older boys tried to molest me at a function and I told him about it - he told me to stop being so welcoming of attention.
- There are lesser incidents, many actually, but yeah. It's all a pattern. A bit of a sad messy history. And all through it there were moments where I saw real dads around me, and wanted, but it's just not something I'll ever have.

Reading this letter made me feel so much better in a way though - I didn't short him by not trying harder. In fact, I probably saved myself from just being more disappointed and crushed than I ever was before.

Double ewe tee eff.

My mother didn't bother to send me the letter until Saturday - and then she sent it regular mail. How nice. So I'll just continue waiting....

Isn't it nice when people in your life remind you that what matters to you doesn't make much difference to them? /sarcasm

(I'm not as bitter as this reads, I've known for years how I am not a high priority for her... she is, then her boyfriend, then me. At least I'm in the top 3 right? This does play into why I'm not super interested in having my own children though - if I ever do even adopt or foster I want to be sure I can give them as much of myself as they deserve. I mean, I matter to her... but it's in a distant way. She takes care of me some monetarily - now anyway - and does what she thinks she should - but all I really ever wanted was love, consideration, and emotional support. Those are the hardest things for me to get, and always have been.)