Emotional Baggage Pt 1.
I don't see why people think that I have no emotional baggage. They are in shock when I tell them such revealing items. Like, my father went to prison when I was 8; or my mother cheated on my father which broke up their marriage; that I cry every time I get yelled at because it reminds me of my family screaming at each other; or that I have consistently been in love with one person since I was the ripe old age of 14.
And it's that last one that prompts me to blog this. That, and it's an inside look for all you doubters. But don't worry - I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for me. I need to get some stuff off my chest.
We had a rough past. Never living within the same city limits for seven years. Being with him for 2 good years, but only seeing him for about 21 days during those 2 years because of residence and deployments and college. The first time we had sex was pretty funny, in retrospect... rushing down to the hospital, sitting at Sherri's in Portland at 3 am smoking because we were so nervous and didn't care if we got kicked out. Heh - ch-chink ch-chink ch-chink. Crouching Honda, Hidden Anonymous Defender. No matter how rough the times were, how shaky and insecure we were, we always felt that stability with the other person.
I describe him as my opposite puzzle piece. What one lacks, the other has in abundance. Opposites attract. Lord help him balance a checkbook or budget his money, but he would've been the one striking up conversations about toilet paper and cucumbers in the checkout line at the grocery store. It's like taking a straight line and a wavy line and smashing them together to create a flow. That was him to me.
And I fucked it up. The girl that doesn't make mistakes... or at least the girl that isn't allowed to make a mistake.
I lost my temper and threw it all away. The vision of us actually getting married; the thought of us actually living within the same city limits; I had almost convinced you that I loved you enough to start a family in the distant future. Waking up to you in an actual bed that was part of a real house instead of waking up next to you in a hotel room in whatever city one of us happened to fly into that weekend. It was hard to get you to really understand that I didn't dream of big houses and a new car every year with you; that my desire was not about how much we could attain in the shortest period of time. I really just wanted the little things... like our drivers license issued in the same state.
You made me pay attention to things that I was in the habit of discarding. I now listen to the words in music and not just sing along to them. There are so many songs that pop up in my head when I think about you. Sunday Morning by Maroon 5; Don't Look Back by Antigone Rising; Say That You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac; King of Sorrow by Sade; Landslide by Dixie Chicks. All I ever wanted was to have a really nice Sunday morning with you. I've heard so many times that you were leaving that if you're really going to leave this time, don't look back and just get out. I wondered if you were just saying that you loved me when I was with you last time. I feel like I'm the one crying everyone's tears in this relationship. I've been afraid to evolve because I built everything around you. The whole spectrum.
I wish that you would've let me just consider our last thing a poor case of judgement. I got drunk, you were still in bed, and I kinda slept with my ex-boyfriend. I wish that would've been the situation. Now, I'm stuck here questioning my own intentions with that job in Seattle. Was I doing it for me like I had originally thought, or was I doing it for you? I wish that I could get you out of my head. But ever since that fateful "Hey, anybody like WWF?" comment, I've been stuck. I wish that I could find someone else as easily as you've been able to discard me. I'm going for that job in Seattle because of me and my boys by the way - I've had some time to think about it.
The fact is that I was convinced that only "The One" would have dragged me through all of this with me still standing. Only the person that was meant to share the rest of my life would be the one that can bring me to such fantastical highs and dramatic lows. That one individual would be the one to save me from myself.
Now what?
I maintain that you are well within your God given rights to see whomever you please. Oddly enough, I'm going to be the last one to stop you from walking out the door. You see, it's a different kind of love and I'm starting to realize that now. It's not the love that makes you leap off of towers, or sing in the rain, or even write home about. It's the love that makes you walk away, swallow your pride, have a coke and a smile. It's love that makes you humble. Makes you stop the chaos and dance in the kitchen, turn the music up and the windows down, stay in bed on a weekday, watch British Parliament on CSPAN at 1 a.m.
I am the girl that bites her bottom lip, we both know it and I saw the blog. I think we're really over this time. Two years ago I would've been heart broken and despondent. But now I'm older, maybe a bit wiser too. I've learned that things happen for a reason. I'll never be ready to get you out of my system, but might be a good idea to start trying. Oh, and this wouldn't be complete without this bit of advice that will go un-heeded: Stay single for just a little bit longer. You jump from one relationship to another and always want to be single. Try it out for a while, learn how to fly solo and you'll be a better man.
I've waited 7 years for you to make a grand gesture. I'm not going to wait anymore. Be happy, and don't fuck it up this time around. Don't keep her at arms length. Don't make her feel special only when she's in your presence, make her feel special when she's out of eyesight too. If you end up loving her, tell her more times than she wants to hear it. Don't shut her out when things are rough. Be man enough to let her help when she can, and man enough to help her when she can't. Enjoy your life, and if you don't start using your head for something worthwhile, I'll use it as a soccer ball. Get up for class in the morning, dammit.
From the time I started writing this, to the time I've stopped writing this I've been able to nail it down. We finally grew out of each other. Only I don't think it happened until just recently. I'll always be the hard ass business-minded woman that runs her life like a corporation and follows the rules just to fall for the tattooed and pierced guy... funniest part is that you have neither. You're just not that guy-to-be anymore; and I'm no longer the girl that you used to be attracted to. I thought I'd be in a funk about this for a while, and am suprised that I'm not... happy that I'm not, too. For so long I held you as the measuring stick for all other men that passed into my life and now I think I'm done. Hell, I even surpassed my own expectations... I broke up with someone before we even really started dating. Anonymous Defender 1, World 0.
So, to whom this is addressed to - and you know who you are - let's make a toast: To ex-flames, good sex, pool tables with jager, reasons to hate Dubya and even more reasons to love Harry. Have a good life, don't be a stranger, and don't think that I ever want to hear about your new girlfriend because I'm cool, but I'm not that fuckin cool.
Everyone else can toast too... you just might not know what it means
And it's that last one that prompts me to blog this. That, and it's an inside look for all you doubters. But don't worry - I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for me. I need to get some stuff off my chest.
We had a rough past. Never living within the same city limits for seven years. Being with him for 2 good years, but only seeing him for about 21 days during those 2 years because of residence and deployments and college. The first time we had sex was pretty funny, in retrospect... rushing down to the hospital, sitting at Sherri's in Portland at 3 am smoking because we were so nervous and didn't care if we got kicked out. Heh - ch-chink ch-chink ch-chink. Crouching Honda, Hidden Anonymous Defender. No matter how rough the times were, how shaky and insecure we were, we always felt that stability with the other person.
I describe him as my opposite puzzle piece. What one lacks, the other has in abundance. Opposites attract. Lord help him balance a checkbook or budget his money, but he would've been the one striking up conversations about toilet paper and cucumbers in the checkout line at the grocery store. It's like taking a straight line and a wavy line and smashing them together to create a flow. That was him to me.
And I fucked it up. The girl that doesn't make mistakes... or at least the girl that isn't allowed to make a mistake.
I lost my temper and threw it all away. The vision of us actually getting married; the thought of us actually living within the same city limits; I had almost convinced you that I loved you enough to start a family in the distant future. Waking up to you in an actual bed that was part of a real house instead of waking up next to you in a hotel room in whatever city one of us happened to fly into that weekend. It was hard to get you to really understand that I didn't dream of big houses and a new car every year with you; that my desire was not about how much we could attain in the shortest period of time. I really just wanted the little things... like our drivers license issued in the same state.
You made me pay attention to things that I was in the habit of discarding. I now listen to the words in music and not just sing along to them. There are so many songs that pop up in my head when I think about you. Sunday Morning by Maroon 5; Don't Look Back by Antigone Rising; Say That You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac; King of Sorrow by Sade; Landslide by Dixie Chicks. All I ever wanted was to have a really nice Sunday morning with you. I've heard so many times that you were leaving that if you're really going to leave this time, don't look back and just get out. I wondered if you were just saying that you loved me when I was with you last time. I feel like I'm the one crying everyone's tears in this relationship. I've been afraid to evolve because I built everything around you. The whole spectrum.
I wish that you would've let me just consider our last thing a poor case of judgement. I got drunk, you were still in bed, and I kinda slept with my ex-boyfriend. I wish that would've been the situation. Now, I'm stuck here questioning my own intentions with that job in Seattle. Was I doing it for me like I had originally thought, or was I doing it for you? I wish that I could get you out of my head. But ever since that fateful "Hey, anybody like WWF?" comment, I've been stuck. I wish that I could find someone else as easily as you've been able to discard me. I'm going for that job in Seattle because of me and my boys by the way - I've had some time to think about it.
The fact is that I was convinced that only "The One" would have dragged me through all of this with me still standing. Only the person that was meant to share the rest of my life would be the one that can bring me to such fantastical highs and dramatic lows. That one individual would be the one to save me from myself.
Now what?
I maintain that you are well within your God given rights to see whomever you please. Oddly enough, I'm going to be the last one to stop you from walking out the door. You see, it's a different kind of love and I'm starting to realize that now. It's not the love that makes you leap off of towers, or sing in the rain, or even write home about. It's the love that makes you walk away, swallow your pride, have a coke and a smile. It's love that makes you humble. Makes you stop the chaos and dance in the kitchen, turn the music up and the windows down, stay in bed on a weekday, watch British Parliament on CSPAN at 1 a.m.
I am the girl that bites her bottom lip, we both know it and I saw the blog. I think we're really over this time. Two years ago I would've been heart broken and despondent. But now I'm older, maybe a bit wiser too. I've learned that things happen for a reason. I'll never be ready to get you out of my system, but might be a good idea to start trying. Oh, and this wouldn't be complete without this bit of advice that will go un-heeded: Stay single for just a little bit longer. You jump from one relationship to another and always want to be single. Try it out for a while, learn how to fly solo and you'll be a better man.
I've waited 7 years for you to make a grand gesture. I'm not going to wait anymore. Be happy, and don't fuck it up this time around. Don't keep her at arms length. Don't make her feel special only when she's in your presence, make her feel special when she's out of eyesight too. If you end up loving her, tell her more times than she wants to hear it. Don't shut her out when things are rough. Be man enough to let her help when she can, and man enough to help her when she can't. Enjoy your life, and if you don't start using your head for something worthwhile, I'll use it as a soccer ball. Get up for class in the morning, dammit.
From the time I started writing this, to the time I've stopped writing this I've been able to nail it down. We finally grew out of each other. Only I don't think it happened until just recently. I'll always be the hard ass business-minded woman that runs her life like a corporation and follows the rules just to fall for the tattooed and pierced guy... funniest part is that you have neither. You're just not that guy-to-be anymore; and I'm no longer the girl that you used to be attracted to. I thought I'd be in a funk about this for a while, and am suprised that I'm not... happy that I'm not, too. For so long I held you as the measuring stick for all other men that passed into my life and now I think I'm done. Hell, I even surpassed my own expectations... I broke up with someone before we even really started dating. Anonymous Defender 1, World 0.
So, to whom this is addressed to - and you know who you are - let's make a toast: To ex-flames, good sex, pool tables with jager, reasons to hate Dubya and even more reasons to love Harry. Have a good life, don't be a stranger, and don't think that I ever want to hear about your new girlfriend because I'm cool, but I'm not that fuckin cool.
Everyone else can toast too... you just might not know what it means
posted by Anonymous Defender at 8:30 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home