Saturday, November 14, 2009

I'm bored of cheap and cheerful, I want expensive sadness

I would be better off
Alone and Lonely
Than awash in this sea of faces

He buys me a drink
What’s his name again?
Ted, Sam, Mike, Steve
Does it matter?

The vodka bites at my tongue
It tickles my throat
He’s saying something I can’t hear
A droning noise fills my ears

He’s complimenting me
He’d turn away if he read my thoughts
If he knew I was thinking
Could he hit me?
Would he?

A sharp slap across my cheek
A purpling bruise tomorrow
Would it change anything?

Would the bright taste of blood,
The quick sting of pain
Wash the apathy away
Leaving anger in it’s wake
Some other emotion
Any impression at all

Displacing the numbness
Replacing the emptiness

Just for a second
A minute
An hour
Would it make it leave

Thursday, November 12, 2009

C'mon and save me, Why don't you save me, If you could save me . . .

He came later than usual tonight. Not that there's a "usual" time, per se. Just a general observation I've made. When there wasn't a soft knock on the door by 7:30, I inhaled sharply and tried to decide what I felt. Was this what I wanted? Some part of me must have decided that it was and my breath whooshed out in a long sigh. It's best this way.

But at 8:32 his soft knock echoed loudly through the house. His hair was still wet from a shower. He looked unsure and a little flustered, but his eyes lit up when they met mine. I kept my hand on the handle of the glass door just a second too long. He could see I was debating letting him in or not. "Please. It's been a long day."

I opened the door.

"Sorry I'm late. We got a call just as my shift was ending. It was a bad one, Meghan. . . . " I listened as he went on telling me about the fire. The people they saved. The one they hadn't. And as I listened, I realized something I should have realized the day we met.

"I'm just someone else for you to save. I don't know how I didn't see it before." And though I wanted to say the words aloud, I'm not that girl. All behaviors at 2 in the morning aside, that's not who I usually am. I avoid drama and deep meaningful conversations. Those are best left in your head. I just looked at him through new eyes and with better understanding.

I'm just someone else for him to save.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Well, the way you treat me like the Only, slightly brings me down a lot

It starts just like every other night seems to start these days.

Come home, change clothes, go for a run, do some strength training, do some ab work, undress, shower.

Get ready, put on some music, start cooking and wait for the doorbell to ring.

Then, slowly, people start arriving. The neighbor, the college friend, the ex-roommate, the brother's girlfriend and - finally - him.

And, just like every other night, we eat. We talk. We joke. We laugh. We bitch. We moan. We clean up the dishes. We play one game or another. We say our goodbyes. And then we're alone. Me. With him.

He helps me pick up. He grabs me when he can. Brief touches here and there. A nuzzle of my neck. A kiss to my shoulder. Brushing my hair back from my forehead. And always, without fail, he compliments me. His words shower over me and instead of bathing in them, I'm drowning in guilt.

But, as I said, it's like any other night. So I smile. I laugh. I thank him. And, most of all, I pretend that everything is okay.

It's not okay. And as he's leaving tonight, it's more palpable. He hugs me goodbye. Nothing too pushy. He's a gentleman, always. He lifts my hand to his mouth and lightly brushes his lips to my palm. "Call me before you go to bed?" I laugh and so does he. Our personal little joke. We both know I don't sleep. "Sure." He hugs me again. "Maybe tonight will be different," he says.

It turns out he's right.

I close the door and settle in with a book. I read page after page, but my mind's not on the words. I can't stop the thoughts from turning over and over in my head. Worse, I can't stop the feelings overwhelming me from manifesting themselves in my mouth begging to be said.

So I call him. At 2:18 in the morning, I call him. And I tell him everything I shouldn't.

I tell him I'm broken. That I've been broken so long now that I don't think I can be fixed. I tell him about the man that broke me. About spending night after night beside him praying - begging - hoping that one day he would love me even a fraction of the way I loved him.

I tell him about waking one morning in his arms and realizing he never would. About reconciling myself to that fact and deciding it didn't matter. That I could and would love him enough for both of us. Until the day I realized it was killing me. That I wasn't the same person that began the relationship and that I hated who I'd become. And so I shut down.

And it's then that he realized he loved me. And he promised me that he would do better. For the first time, I could hear in his voice that he actually meant the words he was saying. His "I love you's" didn't echo hollowly. His eyes followed me in all that I did. And I should have been ecstatic.

But it was too late. He'd already broken me. And I was too scared to love like that again. Too afraid to trust his words and his actions. Terrified that I would wake up tomorrow and the hollowness would be back. I was empty. It would take time for me to heal from what damage had already been done. But he wouldn't wait and we ended before we ever truly began.

My love didn't end. Not a day passed that I didn't wish for his arms around me and those words in my ear. For him to be by my side and me to be by his. But I could pretend with the best of them. So I moved on as though nothing had happened.

And that was fine until someone came along that wouldn't take no for an answer. A man who wasn't content with a date here or there followed by weeks of silence. Someone who deserved more than that and I knew it.

I tell him to find someone who can love him back. To find someone that will kiss him goodnight and beg him to stay. To quit caring for someone whose every thought is consumed with her past. To stop hoping someone broken could love him back. To realize he deserved so much better than the pieces of me that still remain.

He stays silent through it all. Breathing softly. Letting me get it all out in broken words and tearful jerks. When he knows I have nothing left to say he softly - but strongly - says "No" and then hangs up the phone.

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Don't deconstruct and then fill me in, I'm not that basic I swear

I believe . . .

Worrying about tomorrow only serves to ruin today

Photography looks better in black and white

We never know anyone completely

How we feel about ourselves matters more than anyone else's opinion

My parents are superheros

Just because you don't love someone the way they want you to doesn't mean you don't love them with everything you have

Life would not be nearly as fulfilling without music

People change

Friday, November 06, 2009

I don't wanna be in love, I don't wanna be in love

He was attractive. I sent a silent note of thanks up to the gods for that. Rarely have I ever been seated next to a man at a work conference (not too many men choose my field of expertise) and never had one been attractive.

He was married. Oh well, I thought. At least there would be some eye candy to look at throughout the day. And still, a silent note of thanks, because it could have been much worse.

He was personable. And intelligent. And he smelled nice. All fantastic, wonderful, amazing things when taking into consideration that these conferences usually made me want to gouge out my eyes with my ball-point pen.

But then it happened.

"So, what's your story anyway? Are you married, engaged, divorced . . . ?"

I waggled my ring-less hand a few inches from his face.

"Ah, so unmarried and unengaged." He lifted his ring encircled finger. "Not me. I will have been married two years in February, but we've been together for 10 years."

"Ten years?? I hope you don't take offense to this, but I pegged you at 24-25 tops. You've been with your wife since you were 14?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Close. I'm 26. We've been together since we were 16."

"Wow. I don't think I've kept anything for 10 years, let alone a person."

He laughed again. "So there's no long-term boyfriend or anything in your life?"

"Nope. I ended a relationship back in January and since then . . . I guess you could say I've dated around."

"Me, too."

I thought I'd misheard. Surely he hadn't said "Me, too." He must have said something like "Too bad" or "The shoe." Not, "Me, too"?

"I'm so sorry, I must have misheard you. What was it you said?"

"Me, too. I said 'Me, too'."

"Me, too? As in . . . ? What do you mean Me, too?"

"Me, too. As in I'm dating around."

"But I thought you just said you're married?"

"I am. And I love her more than anything. But I like to have a little sex on the side. It keeps me from getting bored. And I think it actually spices up our sex life, too."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that; or if I even wanted to. Truth be told, I was ready for the conversation to be finished. And ready to change seats. "Soooo . . . your wife knows all of this?"

"Oh no! She'd leave me if she ever found out. She doesn't and can't know any of this."

I was even more confused now. Not to mention disgusted. "But if you love her . . . and you know she'd leave you . . . and you don't want her to leave . . . why do you cheat?"

"Because it's fun and it feels good. Plus it gives me ideas of things to do with my wife. After ten years the sex can get a little boring but I learn things from other women that help me spice things up in the bedroom with my wife."

I felt myself physically gag. The thought of any man believing that sleeping with someone other than his wife was to his wife's benefit was too much for me to stomach. "If you found out your wife was doing the same things you're doing, would you be amenable to it?"

"Hell, no. She better never cheat on me."

Ugh. And this is why I'm not certain I'll ever be able to be married. This is why two engagements have ended and a three year relationship went no-where fast. Because every time I start to think "Marriage can be good" I meet one of these guys. The Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do guys. The I'm-married-but-who-does-it-hurt-if-I-have-a-little-on-the-side guys. The It's-just-sex guys.

What if I inadvertently married one of those guys?


Wednesday, November 04, 2009

If you love somebody, if you love someone, set them free

I've tried to live my life with one rule: No Regrets.

I've always firmly believed that any choices I'd made, any roads I'd taken, I was supposed to. There was some intermingling of free choice and fate.

But for the first time in my life, the regret is there. And it's not fading away. There's no "This happened for a reason" feeling. No belief that where I am is where I was fated to be. And all of it is because I believed something completely cliched:

If you love something, let it go. If it returns to you then it is yours forever.

There is no returning. There are some things in our lives, some people, that will never return no matter your reasons for letting them go. I'm going to try to come to terms with that. For months I've been pushing this down, ignoring it, believing that I would wake up one day and either it would come back to me - as the cliche states - or I would realize that this is how it was meant to be. No regrets.

It was a good rule. I wish I'd been strong enough to keep living it.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

And I am a weapon of massive consumption, It's not my fault it's how I'm programmed to function

If anyone wants to buy me any (or all) of these things, you will hear no arguments from me:

I have no idea why it's blown the pictures up so large or how to shrink them back down to original size, so you'll have to deal with it. I'm too tired to monkey around with this thing all night.

Monday, November 02, 2009

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play, Today

The Phillies are still alive! YAY!

I adore Jayson Werth, Chase Utley and - of course - Arkansas native Cliff Lee.
I was spellbound the entire game tonight. Needless to say, I will be home glued to the TV Wednesday night.

Phillies to rest ace Lee, tap Blanton for game four

You have found her, now go and get her

Love this:

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