Check-list of love
He (or she) will know I am amazing…He won’t be intimidated by my drive and ambition; to him it will be sexy. My independence will be okay and he will give me space to be me… but NEVER pass up the chance to hold my hand, touch my cheek, or kiss my forehead…because even strong girls are fragile. I will be beautiful in his eyes… when I am dressed to the nines, waking up in the morning, and dragging myself to bed at night. He will be floored at the size of my heart…and will never be jealous of the time I put in for other people…because he will know that he is HOME to me. The fact that I have friends of every shape, color, and personality will intrigue him…he will see me for the well rounded person I am and strive to be. Me being smart is an asset…and me being a smartass is even better…because it will make him laugh and feel challenged all at once. Not only will he think my causes are great, but he will join in when he can…just to be next to me and a part of what I believe in. He will know when to kiss me gently…and when to throw me up on the kitchen counter. He will encourage, support, and sometimes push me… because he knows how proud I will be of what I accomplish…and how hard I am on myself when I don’t. The fact that he is everything to me AFTER my children will be okay…in fact it will be perfect. He will want to take classes with me…to learn to dance so that we can lose ourselves in each other even if it’s in the living room…to learn to scuba dive so we always have something to do on a boring day… and just to learn for the sake of learning something new.He will call just because he can’t get me off of his mind. He will stand up for me even though he knows I can do it myself…because I shouldn’t have to.Family will mean the world… and holidays will ALWAYS be a big deal. Adaptable and intelligent… at home at a bon fire or at a black tie party. He will run to be by my side when I feel lost…and running away when it gets tough will never cross his mind. Public affection isn’t a problem…it’s encouraged…because he is SO proud that the ass he is grabbing is mine. The fact that I can cook rocks. When I am too tired, too dirty, or too stressed to feel sexy… he will tell me how beautiful I am without pressure…because he knows how well it will pay off when I finally get a shower and some sleep :) He will draw my bath for me…he knows I will come up with every excuse on my to-do list not to take the time otherwise. He knows he can trust me…so he talks to me…even when he feels like a whimp for it. When I complain, it won’t annoy him…he knows it takes a lot to get me to do it, so I am probably not bluffing. When I am sick he will take care of me, even when I tell him I don’t need him to. The fact that I do it for him and our kids will mean tons. He won’t think I am weird because one day I am in a suit and heels and all woman, and the next I am in sweats and a tank top and filled with girlish energy. I won’t have to speak…my eyes will give it away…but he will never tire of my voice. He will at least tolerate my dogs…my cats…my fish…my snake…and anything else I have running around. And the fact that I can keep up with all of them makes me that much more amazing. He will know the best way to end a fight is a hug. You don’t have to say I am right…but if you walk out it says you don’t care. I will cool down more in your arms than I will out of them. His promises will be as solid as concrete. Breaking them is NOT an option…because trust is the end all and be all of what we have. And I will keep mine. He is a great Daddy. And his promises to them are the only thing more important than the ones to me. He knows they need direction and structure… and a good roll in the mud every once in a while too. He will teach them to care…even if others don’t. He will show them how to push themselves, but feel good about how they are today…and how to appreciate every bit of life from a beetle to a bear. He will show them how to look for the sun but always be ready for the dark. And bedtime stories will take priority over any football game, night out, meeting, or client.
He (or she) probably doesn’t exist… but if they do God will bring them to me one day. And they won’t see the wrinkles under my eyes either ;)
Another myspace post from awhile ago...
I am my own psychotherapist
Using pen, paper, computer keys, and random thoughts as a vehicle
A personal version of therapy and self analysis
I will send myself the bill… and an excuse note to my past
Giving me permission to let it go
Karma is no different than God… just flipped
When shit hits the fan we damn God, but for the good we gladly take credit
And good karma happens to good people, but no one wants to accept bad karma as their own consequence
Funny
Confession : I have been in long relationships… I have only fallen once… I didn’t marry that man
I want to do it again
Fall
A tragic word with such a beautiful meaning
An amazing feeling
Felt familiar
Your heart and stomach are wrapped in invisible hands that sweetly wring every bit of resistance out of them.
Lucky to get it once
If I get it twice I will consider every good deed repaid ten-fold
Everything that is not it feels different
I have to turn off or dial down parts of me to be what they desire
Falling rips you wide open
Dark corners to hide in become non-existant
Free to love what you love, hate what you hate, dream what you dream
Show what you are
He was the only one who ever saw my soul
And I didn’t feel like I had to protect it
When he destroyed it
I put it back together
I offered it to him again
He shattered it
I put the remnants in his hand
He threw them at me
That alone is the origin of the fear that knots my gut
Makes me wary
Not any of the minor
And insignificant
Run-ins with cheaters and liars
Amidst all the pain is hope
If I could just catch a glimmer of that familiarity
The safety of being where I am supposed to be
Then I could let the wall crumble
With my luck I will find it with someone more scared than even I….
Its my life
Like how I am helping along something that I wish I could stop
Like it’s a train bearing down and all I wish I could do is put on the brakes
But I am not the engineer
So I just sit and watch it… hell I delivered the fuel for the damn thing
And the wreck that is eminent is with something that I want for myself
And I would never leave it laying on the tracks to get run over
But my hands are tied by the fact that I have no business even stepping foot on the train let alone stopping it… and I know better than to let its path become my personal problem
It’s not my wreck to stop
But I wish I didn’t care so much
Does caring earn me good karma?
Or does helping damn me?
The only thing breaking is my heart
I wonder if he feels the same way when he looks at me as I do when I look at him
Why is strength so lonely?
Everyone thinks that saying “you can do it” means something
I know I can damn it… I can do anything
BUT I AM TIRED OF FUCKING DOING IT ALONE
Yes, I can buy a house
Yes, I can go to school
Yes, I can keep my head up when my life gets turned upside down
Yes, I can hold back tears
Yes, I can climb higher, fight harder, stand stronger, believe more
Yes I can blow everyone’s mind
But who cares
Who knew success could be such a hindrance
Maybe I should just sit around, take antidepressants, and drain every last bit of passion from my being
And once I am a dependant shell of a woman
Then someone will come along that doesn’t go running for the hills
And my ex-husband would no longer be an asshole because he wouldn’t think he let the best thing that will ever happen to him go
Idiots
I am 26
Why do I feel like I am running out of time? Constantly
Like a quiet desperation to achieve every goal I have or will ever have before the first of next month
Why does my ex-husband think he is the only one allowed to love my son?
Fuck him
It is so oxymoronic to be a perfectionist
Cuz you want things so perfect that you will put off doing it until you can do it right
And in the process it is left not done at all
Which in turn stresses you out
Extenze says it can make your cock bigger… but can it make you kiss me like you’re going to die if you can’t have me right now?
Passion is the magic word of the day
Benadryl makes dogs sleepy sleepy sleepy
And now I am sleepy
Using pen, paper, computer keys, and random thoughts as a vehicle
A personal version of therapy and self analysis
I will send myself the bill… and an excuse note to my past
Giving me permission to let it go
Karma is no different than God… just flipped
When shit hits the fan we damn God, but for the good we gladly take credit
And good karma happens to good people, but no one wants to accept bad karma as their own consequence
Funny
Confession : I have been in long relationships… I have only fallen once… I didn’t marry that man
I want to do it again
Fall
A tragic word with such a beautiful meaning
An amazing feeling
Felt familiar
Your heart and stomach are wrapped in invisible hands that sweetly wring every bit of resistance out of them.
Lucky to get it once
If I get it twice I will consider every good deed repaid ten-fold
Everything that is not it feels different
I have to turn off or dial down parts of me to be what they desire
Falling rips you wide open
Dark corners to hide in become non-existant
Free to love what you love, hate what you hate, dream what you dream
Show what you are
He was the only one who ever saw my soul
And I didn’t feel like I had to protect it
When he destroyed it
I put it back together
I offered it to him again
He shattered it
I put the remnants in his hand
He threw them at me
That alone is the origin of the fear that knots my gut
Makes me wary
Not any of the minor
And insignificant
Run-ins with cheaters and liars
Amidst all the pain is hope
If I could just catch a glimmer of that familiarity
The safety of being where I am supposed to be
Then I could let the wall crumble
With my luck I will find it with someone more scared than even I….
Its my life
Like how I am helping along something that I wish I could stop
Like it’s a train bearing down and all I wish I could do is put on the brakes
But I am not the engineer
So I just sit and watch it… hell I delivered the fuel for the damn thing
And the wreck that is eminent is with something that I want for myself
And I would never leave it laying on the tracks to get run over
But my hands are tied by the fact that I have no business even stepping foot on the train let alone stopping it… and I know better than to let its path become my personal problem
It’s not my wreck to stop
But I wish I didn’t care so much
Does caring earn me good karma?
Or does helping damn me?
The only thing breaking is my heart
I wonder if he feels the same way when he looks at me as I do when I look at him
Why is strength so lonely?
Everyone thinks that saying “you can do it” means something
I know I can damn it… I can do anything
BUT I AM TIRED OF FUCKING DOING IT ALONE
Yes, I can buy a house
Yes, I can go to school
Yes, I can keep my head up when my life gets turned upside down
Yes, I can hold back tears
Yes, I can climb higher, fight harder, stand stronger, believe more
Yes I can blow everyone’s mind
But who cares
Who knew success could be such a hindrance
Maybe I should just sit around, take antidepressants, and drain every last bit of passion from my being
And once I am a dependant shell of a woman
Then someone will come along that doesn’t go running for the hills
And my ex-husband would no longer be an asshole because he wouldn’t think he let the best thing that will ever happen to him go
Idiots
I am 26
Why do I feel like I am running out of time? Constantly
Like a quiet desperation to achieve every goal I have or will ever have before the first of next month
Why does my ex-husband think he is the only one allowed to love my son?
Fuck him
It is so oxymoronic to be a perfectionist
Cuz you want things so perfect that you will put off doing it until you can do it right
And in the process it is left not done at all
Which in turn stresses you out
Extenze says it can make your cock bigger… but can it make you kiss me like you’re going to die if you can’t have me right now?
Passion is the magic word of the day
Benadryl makes dogs sleepy sleepy sleepy
And now I am sleepy
Motivational Metabolism
What happens when we get into committed relationships? Does our motivational metabolism suddenly slow down…sometimes to a sludge? I would like to think that two intelligent, ambitious individuals could get together and create beautiful success and charity and change; but even the most determined of us still seem to fall victim to the same malady… we just like each other’s company.
...
Sure, while he is working on his website I could easiy be working on a book, my blog, or drafting… but I would rather sit and watch; and then beat myself up for it later. And when I finally want to do something myself, you better believe he is not far away, always asking questions about what I am doing. I suppose it is the nature of love, or even admiration at the beginning level.
...
So, should us smart folk stay single and productive; or shack up and try not to fall into the pack of poor souls that look back at what they “could” have done? Would the sweet feeling of accomplishment actually take the place of a sweet kiss?
...
I would love to believe that my love for my significant other would encourage me to encourage them…but I just want to cuddle. Maybe this is only a symptom of the honeymoon stage. Maybe by this time next year I will not care if we are on opposite sides of the house. I doubt it…but I am still in the honeymoon stage so I am not claiming immunity from being biased. Is the possibility that extra ciricular activities can create jealousy real and tangible? Can you want someone to succeed yet not want them to trade time with you for the steps they need to take to get there?
...
Is talent like a lover? Do we have to sneak off to love them and tend to them? Is it something that can’t be done in the presence of your partner because it may make them feel left out? We are like to say “I just want you to be happy” but when it comes down to it… what selfish ultimatums do we tack on? Happiness on our terms.
And when our partners begin to lose themselves; when they can’t smile and don’t know why… will we look to ourselves, first? The first reactions is always “what did I do?”, but maybe the question is “what did I not let them do?”
...
I was married and somewhere in that 7 years I lost myself and became miserable. Of course, there were lots of reasons to feel that way.. I was married to an alcoholic, drug abusing man who couldn’t see that his selfishness was disassembling our love brick by brick. But most of all, I lost me fr the sake of loving. I stopped writing unless I was mad or hurt…then I stopped doing it then too. I stopped drawing. I stopped walking in the rain. I stopped sitting quietly and just listening and thinking. Most of all…I sopped learning; mostly about myself and who I wanted to be.
...
He never said “stop writing”. But I let my love for him become the end rather than the support. It was the dynamite instead of the trussel. I never told him to stop drawing…in fact I loved it about him. You could argue that the drugs, beer, and parties told him to stop… but I m done with excuses.
...
So, do we unknowingly sabotage our relationships in the name of strengthening our relationships? What happens when you love that she is a painter, but you never let her paint or tell her to paint? One day she will no longer be a painter. She will have lost a piece of herself… and so shall you have lost a piece of her.
...
This should not be confused with blame games. I do not have to be told not to write. I willingly watch him rather than write without any coercion, whining, or snuggling.
Maybe love means locking them in a room with a computer, canvas, pen, or drafting table and then leaving them alone.
...
Maybe love means a little less lovin’.
...
Sure, while he is working on his website I could easiy be working on a book, my blog, or drafting… but I would rather sit and watch; and then beat myself up for it later. And when I finally want to do something myself, you better believe he is not far away, always asking questions about what I am doing. I suppose it is the nature of love, or even admiration at the beginning level.
...
So, should us smart folk stay single and productive; or shack up and try not to fall into the pack of poor souls that look back at what they “could” have done? Would the sweet feeling of accomplishment actually take the place of a sweet kiss?
...
I would love to believe that my love for my significant other would encourage me to encourage them…but I just want to cuddle. Maybe this is only a symptom of the honeymoon stage. Maybe by this time next year I will not care if we are on opposite sides of the house. I doubt it…but I am still in the honeymoon stage so I am not claiming immunity from being biased. Is the possibility that extra ciricular activities can create jealousy real and tangible? Can you want someone to succeed yet not want them to trade time with you for the steps they need to take to get there?
...
Is talent like a lover? Do we have to sneak off to love them and tend to them? Is it something that can’t be done in the presence of your partner because it may make them feel left out? We are like to say “I just want you to be happy” but when it comes down to it… what selfish ultimatums do we tack on? Happiness on our terms.
And when our partners begin to lose themselves; when they can’t smile and don’t know why… will we look to ourselves, first? The first reactions is always “what did I do?”, but maybe the question is “what did I not let them do?”
...
I was married and somewhere in that 7 years I lost myself and became miserable. Of course, there were lots of reasons to feel that way.. I was married to an alcoholic, drug abusing man who couldn’t see that his selfishness was disassembling our love brick by brick. But most of all, I lost me fr the sake of loving. I stopped writing unless I was mad or hurt…then I stopped doing it then too. I stopped drawing. I stopped walking in the rain. I stopped sitting quietly and just listening and thinking. Most of all…I sopped learning; mostly about myself and who I wanted to be.
...
He never said “stop writing”. But I let my love for him become the end rather than the support. It was the dynamite instead of the trussel. I never told him to stop drawing…in fact I loved it about him. You could argue that the drugs, beer, and parties told him to stop… but I m done with excuses.
...
So, do we unknowingly sabotage our relationships in the name of strengthening our relationships? What happens when you love that she is a painter, but you never let her paint or tell her to paint? One day she will no longer be a painter. She will have lost a piece of herself… and so shall you have lost a piece of her.
...
This should not be confused with blame games. I do not have to be told not to write. I willingly watch him rather than write without any coercion, whining, or snuggling.
Maybe love means locking them in a room with a computer, canvas, pen, or drafting table and then leaving them alone.
...
Maybe love means a little less lovin’.
Changes
The real me isn't so stressed out that I don't smile! I am known for smiling...but I'm not doing it nearly as much now. The real me doesn't yell until I have been pushed way too far... I am not grumpy or snappy or complacent. I don't stress out when things break or when I get behind. I bounce around, sing, and laugh until I cry.
...
...
...
It doesn't help that my life is nothing like it was a year ago. I miss being outside with the dogs all day and joking with people and having friends. Even if they weren't real friends, I am starting to feel like it was better than feeling like I have none (or very few anyway). You always hear people say that they would rather have just a couple true friends than a handful of fake ones...but they are obviously not anyone who has ever had to go through actually finding out who those true ones are. I may have been walking around in a fog, surrounded by people who didn't realy care...but I was happy. Everyday I felt blessed for my life...for my job... and for my future. I got doggie hugs all day, told dirty jokes and played around at work, and felt the sun or snow on my face...it reminded me that I was alive and real. Now...I am on a hamster wheel trying to get somewhere... and I don't even have my hamster buddies to keep me lauging while I run anymore.
...
I need to rebuild...but where do I start? I can't go back there... and who do I let back in? And why do I feel like there isn't one single person who really understand how hard this is? It is nothing like what you have gone through...not to say that you haven't gone through bad stuff or even "worse" stuff...but it is NOT the same. This isn't about just losing some friends or changing your job... This is about having your world flipped upside down with no power to turn it back over...all I can do is adapt. But I can't FIX it. It is about feeling lonely. I can't call up old friends and reconnect or go visit... they are GONE. I can't go back to my job... I can't even use my own fucking name!
...
I could go back and try not to hear them, or let it get to me... I could be headstrong as usual... but which of those two evils is the lesser?
...
Done whining for now I suppose...so much for staying positive this year! Sorry to be such a downer guys......
Just a reminder...
Genius usually walks hand in hand with insanity...especially if it goes unchallenged, unappreciated, and unoccupied for too long.
Get me out of here...
Double Life
How can I put into words what it is like to have your identity stripped from you?
You have to be someone else most of the time... to save yourself the headache. But how much of the headache is saved when trying to be two people hurts your head? ... and your heart?
It kind of goes against everything I have ever stood for. I am not ashamed of me or anything I have done. So, why now, must I hide from the most positive, influential, and life-changing contribution that I have made to this earth for the sake of answering a few less questions?
Have they no idea what they have done to my life, my home, and my trust?
You have to be someone else most of the time... to save yourself the headache. But how much of the headache is saved when trying to be two people hurts your head? ... and your heart? It kind of goes against everything I have ever stood for. I am not ashamed of me or anything I have done. So, why now, must I hide from the most positive, influential, and life-changing contribution that I have made to this earth for the sake of answering a few less questions?Have they no idea what they have done to my life, my home, and my trust?
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