Update: A Beacon

Though in no way verbose or sentimental in any way, I received that which I wanted most for Christmas - finally, after 2 1/2 months, a message from my island. My beacon in the storm.

And it is enough. For now.

Lighthouse

I wonder how the ship captains of yesteryear felt as they first saw the emanating light in the darkest and stormiest of nights. Was it really the beacon in the storm that we have always heard about in the storybooks, saving the lives of sailors from a sure death on the treacherous rocks below?

That's how I felt about my Caribbean boyfriend. When everything was upside down, he was my right side up. When the world was rapidly spinning off its axis, he was my front and center. When the turbulent sea proved too much, he was my lighthouse. An always calming presence in the storms of life.

Today is Christmas, and I am longing for my lighthouse. The Christmas season has always been one of my favorite times of year, but the older I get, the more alone I feel and much less celebratory. I am blessed to spend the holiday with my truly wonderful family, but it's difficult not to dwell on that which I miss the most, someone to hold, someone to care, someone to love. But most of all, someone to shine the way.

In the Midst of Tragedy

Most people my age have begun saying how "old" they feel, which is ironic to me because most of the time I feel no different than when I was 15. I feel the same, I love the same, I hurt the same, I even dance the same (ok, maybe better because now I know what passion really is). The biggest exception is that my hope and faith in humankind and a better tomorrow is not the same, and I would give almost anything to have that back.

In the wake of yet another national tragedy, I am once again overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness and desolation. Everyone around me is embracing loved ones, spending more quality time with their families, and providing comfort as needed. And I am at home...alone....again...with no one to hold and no one to hold me.

Yet, after a day of tremendous heartache and grief, there was a ray of light, a sliver of hope, for the dancer is still prancing around my life and held me until dawn broke...into a better tomorrow.

Update: Drowning

I briefly mentioned in a recent post that I planned to text my Caribbean boyfriend - I guess I shouldn't call him that anymore, should I? - on his birthday. Well, I did, and as I predicted, I received no response. I believe that if I were to ever hear from him again that it would have happened then...

And I am drowning. Sometimes I literally wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air because I cannot find him. He fills every morsel of my being, even when I am unaware, and his absence leaves me breathless and shaken. In his wake, I am a sea of despair, battered and lost.

And when people ask if I am ok, I just want to shout as loud as I can that NO, I am NOT ok. How do you find your way when your soul is gone, and you can't will yourself to accept the reality that you're never getting it back? I don't know how to function without hope. I have always had hope, even when it was futile at best, yet it has left me alone as well.

Everyone and everything else was just filler because I knew I could never have him, yet he was mine. He was my everything. When I met him, I finally felt at home, and I was on a Caribbean island for goodness sake! But he's gone, and I have lost him forever. And the sea is tossing and turning and I don't know which way is up...sometimes I'm not even sure that I care.

"Have you ever met someone and when they walked away you could breathe again? Have you ever thought about someone, even though it has been months since you have seen them? Have you ever felt as if someone flowed with your heart that when you do see them again you melt all over again? But now he is gone. Still with my heart in his hand, and thoughts of him flowing through my body."

Update: Revelations

And in keeping with tradition, the dancer is not looking for a ltr. Yes, I had to pull out my urban dictionary for that one....long-term relationship. The End.

Sabotage

I've recently had a few discussions with some friends on the topic of self-sabotage, particularly in regard to relationships. Although in different ways, I feel that they are insinuating the same idea - that I may be sabotaging my own relationships. Perhaps arrogantly, but I just don't think so. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're probably agreeing with them; however, when I look back on all the relationships that didn't work out - irrelevant of the reason they ended - I'm glad that they did. Now, of course, that realization came much later, but nonetheless, it is true. I believe in my heart and in my soul that none of those men were indeed the best choice, the right choice, for me.

It's always difficult, virtually impossible, to look objectively at your own situations, your own problems, your own issues. A long time ago, I had a boyfriend who used to call it being "in the bubble." You aren't able to effectively assess anything inside the bubble. So, what exactly is it in me that is sabotaging the ability to have a healthy, normal intimate relationship with a man? If it's simply being me from the very beginning, then so be it. Who wants a semi-version of me? Maybe a lot of people. But that's not what I want. I want someone I can trust my secrets with and someone who can share their deepest secrets with me. Someone who loves the bad parts as much as the good parts, and why should those come out later when they all come together to complete ME? If I'm "too much" now, how am I not going to be "too much" later on? Really.

Adventure #25: Funeral Mass

Over a year ago, I posted a blog about attending a wedding alone and how overwhelming that can be for me. Unfortunately, this past weekend I attended a funeral for the dad of a good friend of mine who passed unexpectedly. I attended alone, and that was something that quite frankly I should not have done. It was heart-wrenching to listen to his friends and family express their sadness, their grief, and all I could think is that I wanted someone's hand to hold during all of that. I wanted someone to acknowledge that my tears were ok, someone to tell me it was ok to mourn, even if he wasn't my father, but because he's someone's father. And, well, I've been there. And I just wanted someone to be there with me.

I know that funerals are, by design, a chance to say goodbye, an opportunity to celebrate the life of the one who has passed. But I think it may be more than I am prepared to handle...alone anyway.

Sometimes I Feel...

Sometimes I feel so fragile, so incredibly delicate. I hate the vulnerability, the stark subjection to possible hurt and disappointment. I much prefer my powerful independence, my strong-willed nature, my assertiveness. But we are...are all fragile human beings that is.

Sometimes I feel so inconsequential, so insignificant. I hate the idea of having no stable place in this world, no clear purpose, no evident agenda. I much prefer my definitive roles, my purposeful intent, my  transparent direction. But we are...are all miniscule pieces of a very large whole.

Sometimes I feel so empty, so infinitely hollow. I hate the creeping sadness, the enveloping veil of darkness. I much prefer the feeling of completion, of radiant happiness, of life without end. But we are...are all made to live and all made to die.

But all I can do is wait...wait and see what tomorrow brings. I have put everything I know, everything I have out there...and the rest is no longer in my control, a quite unwanted place I find myself all too frequently. Yet, wait is what I must do...until he chooses.

Update: In the Beginning

Quite awhile back, I wrote about shiny, new toys, and in particular, how exciting and rejuvenating a new relationship is in the beginning. But then when the shine wears off, why does the relationship also lose its luster? The obvious answer is that relationships not built on truths, substance, and care will have no where else to go but down. However, how can that possibly be the answer for every new interest I have?

Another blogger I follow posted a wonderful blog today about Shoots and Ladders. In the post, she talks about the similarities life has to the game - some ups, some downs, some people lead, some people follow, some people win, some people lose. But what is it that makes this so? Why are there more "shoots" than "ladders" for some of us? Now, I have very little in my life to complain about, and truthfully, despite my comments to the contrary, I typically very much enjoy my single life. But I have often wondered - why is that I am so incredibly unlucky in love?

As you've probably garnered, I have met a new potential interest. He's a dancer, of course, but he's also witty, charming, and intriguing. For the past 24 hours, we've done nothing but message one another about anything and everything under the sun. It's exhilarating and intoxicating, and I pray that this time I can keep his interest for more than a fortnight...

Update: Guilt Trip and the Green-Eyed Monster

It's the guilt that will eat you alive, the guilt over having done a bad, bad thing. But was it really oh so bad? No, probably not. It's more of a frustration with myself for having been unable to make a different decision, a better one less significant as simply a different one. And unless other life changes occur in grandiose ways, I will probably continue this pattern of less than stellar decision-making. Yes, it is undeniable weakness, but it is also sheer boredom and a simple inability to believe someone is not good at the core.

I am jealous. It makes me sick to say, but if blogging isn't for the truth, then what is? I have so many close friends that have recently met worthy significant others, and I am genuinely happy for them. (Please, I'm not so heartless - you know me better than that!) But the jealousy remains. Why? Because I want the same for myself. I want someone to spend time with, do things of common interest with, just be with. I am ready for a boyfriend, not someone to play with, not someone to see occasionally, but someone who puts me first and thinks of me constantly. I am tired of the schmuck in my life, and especially tired of the monotonous vultures.

And, yes, I do feel in many ways that I am being left behind. Being a third or fifth wheel has its time and place, many times an extremely welcomed one, but in the other times and in the other places, I look at the couples in my life and sigh with regret.

My Caribbean boyfriend's birthday is in a few days, and I know my well wishes will receive no response. Yet, I will still send my message, because, well, I love him. What else can I do?

A Bad, Bad Thing

I did a bad, bad thing. Does it really matter what it was? Anyone who knew would say it was the wrong thing to do...but I did it anyway.

Signs: Butterflies and Rainbows

When I was in college, I babysat for a family that quickly became my own as I was away at school. The children are, of course, almost grown now, but I look back on those mornings with my boys with such fondness. Even then, I so desperately wanted to meet the "man of my dreams," and the mother would often tell me about her belief in signs. For her, it was rainbows. She had tremendous difficulty getting pregnant with her second son, and on the way back from a doctor, she saw a rainbow. At that moment, she knew that everything was going to be ok, and sure enough, she soon became pregnant.

A former employee of mine lost a very dear friend in a horrific shooting. This friend had a love for butterflies, and at her funeral, a flurry of butterflies miraculously appeared. My employee felt it was a sign that her friend was still with her, despite her body no longer being on this earth.

What's your sign? Your indication that everything is going to be alright, better than alright. I can't help but want deep down in my soul for that rainbow I saw on my Caribbean island to be more than just a rainbow. But as my mom says, "We never know what tomorrow brings for we weren't made to know the future." So, I suppose I will just have to wait and see...

Sugar Plum Fairies

Wow! I read a "random thought" today from a colleague and was truly inspired. He probably had me at "dancing," but I felt it so poignant for what I want my life to look like, so in touch with what I desire to experience, so passionate in its attention to seeking the truth, that I couldn't help but share pieces of his soliloquy:

I feel like an aging star that's going out like a bright supernova.  I'd exploding with ideas, thoughts, feelings.  They're dancing on the stages of my mind and soul like Tchaikovsky's dancing sugar plum fairies.  They're pirouetting, leaping, arabesque-ing, batterie-ing, pointe-ing almost uncontrollably from my head and heart, down my arms, and into making my fingers do their own ballet steps on the keyboard.

At a glance, the paper seemed simple enough.  Just a blank sheet.  Then, I stopped merely looking and began to see, to see deeply, so deeply I felt I was an electron microscope.  And, guess what I saw.    I saw trees.  I saw sun.  I saw soil.  I saw rain.  I saw seeds.  I saw nutrients.  I saw growth.  I saw miracles of life.  I saw all that made up the previous life of that piece paper.  I saw fibers.  I saw invention.  I saw imagination.  I saw ingenuity.  I saw creativity.  I saw civilization.  I saw process.  I saw progress.  I saw all that made up the human capacity and potential.

I saw what seemed so simple only when I just looked was truly complex and even mysterious when I intensely saw.  I read somewhere something someone said that stuck with me:  "He who looks outside, dreams; he who looks inside, awakens."  Ain't that the truth.  And, I will attest without any reservation, hesitation, or equivocation that when you see...through the prisms of unconditional faith, belief, hope, and love, that [person] will enter your heart, awaken your heart, and stir your soul.  So, I wonder what is it that we can discover if we stop just looking and begin to see, to see deeply, to see ourselves, to see others?   What if we stopped being content to merely gaze at images on a screen?  What if we were no longer satisfied being spectators in an arena?  What if we started looking other people in the eye, not just through a camera lens?  If we participated in, engaged in, experienced and lived first hand, touched and felt, saw and listened to, were fully involved, and lived the details, we see...a place of unseen potential, a place of possibilities, a place where we should keep open our options.

Understand that true faith, belief, hope, and love, that the acts of true empathy, sympathy, and compassion, occur only when we are aware of, attentive to, mindful of, caring about, and knowing--really knowing--who that person...with you is...Someone once said that the real measure of how you live is the extent to which your presence and absence both mean something significant.  How true.  How true.

-Louis Schmier

Mom

If I have failed to mention previously, my mom is my best friend in all the world (and the only person who ever reads my blogs). She is the most patient, kind, and selfless person I have ever met. Truly, there is no other mother like her. Her daughters call her at the most inopportune times to cry about stupid boys, yell about idiotic drivers, or whine about chauvinist bosses, yet she NEVER tires of listening to their hurt, anger, and pain. She is also the biggest cheerleader when we call with good news of work opportunities, first dates, or new shoes. 

I wish I could be half the person my mother is...but I am not. I am selfish and self-centered. I am consumed with my own problems, issues, and concerns, above and beyond those of others. But I hope that she knows what she means to me. I hope that she knows what an amazing impact she has made on my life. I hope that she knows I am eternally grateful for her truly unconditional love and support. And I hope that she is proud of who I am and who I am becoming.

And at the end of her time on this earth, I hope she can look back and know she did everything right when it came to me and my sister...because she really did.

Top of the World by the Dixie Chicks

Hopeless Romantic (Dominoes)

A familiar, colloquial phrase: hopeless romantic. But what exactly is so hopeless about it? Shouldn't it be hopeful romantic instead? I mean aren't most "hopeless romantics" always longing, always hoping for that one person who fulfills their every desire, their every whim? So, why did it become hopeless? If unconditional love and care is what we seek, shouldn't we all be hopeful that we will find someone who can fulfill those needs and desires? And if we have found our significant other for all-time, shouldn't we continue to find ways to fill those spaces in-between, where our love may not exactly meet head-on?

Some, perhaps many, would consider me a hopeless romantic, but I would prefer to be remembered as a hopeful romantic at the end of my days, always hoping for more, always hoping for better.

The Twilight saga is an international phenomenon, a modern-day romance with the premise being two men in love with the same woman. Seems like the perfect scenario, right? Wrong. It's impossible for all three to walk away unscathed; one is always fundamentally hurt and unenamored, pun intended. But, as movies and other works of fiction go, all three wind up happily ever after and forevermore in the end. The heroine not only gets the love of a lifetime, but a man to fill in all of the gaps, too. Back to reality, and I am not "hopeless" enough to believe that this could be my future life. Yet, I want more; I want better. 

It's often ironic how you can look back at a sequence of events and see perfectly how one comment, one action, triggered the others, just like a set of dominoes, and it all makes perfect sense. Over two years ago, my ex and I chose different paths, but unlike the fairytale, I did not get to keep my best friend. Yet, I am complete in the realization still that, though vastly difficult and not wholly without its errors in judgment, I made the best decision and am still awaiting my Edward.

The Spanish Inquisition

As you can obviously tell, I am extremely inquisitive. My posts are often riddled with tons of questions, largely unanswered and perhaps even unanswerable to large degree. But when did the human race become so afraid of finding the answers? I often say that there are some things, many things, that should be left unknown, but what happened to exploration, analysis, and scrutiny? When did knowing too much become a bad thing?

My Caribbean boyfriend even finally admitted that I ask too many questions, seek too many answers, and it hurt. I long for the day when someone not only acknowledges my curiosity but embraces it and keeps it safe, almost like a patient parent with a 3-year-old constantly asking why the sky is blue, why bark is both for dogs and trees, and why daddy doesn't come home at night.

Having a desire to know more is inherent to who I am, and being able to appreciate that is central to loving me. Period.

Update: Dear John

West Coast, the author of the love letter, has officially broken away and fallen into the ocean - just like I knew he would, just like I said he would. Instead of hurt and pain, this Dear John letter only caused mild anger and indifference. And unlike my former self, instead of holding on, I completely let him go, foregoing any chance at a friendship or otherwise. Frankly, I just don't care enough. As far as I am concerned, she can keep him. He never was you know who anyway...

Fleeting

Fleeting thoughts. Fleeting feelings. Why must everything, well, flee? Why is it so impossible to hang onto that particular thought, that undeniable feeling, that inexplicable joy? Why must it be all so transient? Is it because we are human and that is the way of the world? Is it because we don't put enough effort into hanging onto that which we seek so desperately, that once we have found it, it is no longer of importance or relevance?

I have a wide array of musical preferences, as I am sure you have noticed. Sometimes I find one that not only resonates with me on an emotional level but also has a remarkable video. This song's video has some of the most talented choreography and dancers I have ever seen. It is exquisitely pieced together, and the story is one in which I think we can all relate.

Valtari by Sigur Ros, a band out of a country, another island of course, I long to visit: Iceland

Destined for Fate

Destiny. What is it? Does it truly exist or is it simply a conceptualized construct designed to make sense of a chaotic world? Does it help to have the illusion of the tapestry I've spoken of previously?

But what of choice or free will? Is it possible to have both, to even dream of both? The ability to make decisions within the safety net of fate.

Making a single seemingly insignificant decision can change the course of your life path forever, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. Have you ever looked back on an event, a situation, a diversion and wished you had walked a different path, chosen a new route? Was it simply happenstance, or were their puppeteer hands at play?

And why are we, or at least some of us, so obsessed with knowing all the answers??

Agony

Agony. I don't know what else to call it. I was literally in the middle of a meeting today, and I was, for some truly inexplicable reason, taken right back to my Caribbean island with my Caribbean beau. And it hurt. I mean really hurt. I felt as though my heart was being ripped right out of my chest. It hurts more now than a month ago. It is loss, true loss. He might as well have died, and in some ways this is worse, because I know that he is still somewhere, out there, under the same moon. And I want nothing more than to have his love for me back.

Yes, West Coast is many wonderful things, and getting to know him is fun and exciting. I like his emotion, his sense of need, and the way he kisses me. I like the attention, the desire, the passion, but how do I get my soul back?

Love Letter

Have you ever received a love letter? A real one? One where he confesses his love to you and for you, unconditionally and with reckless abandon. Well, neither have I...but I received something close. And then a few days later, flowers to boot.

And I cried. Shocker, I know. But it was moving in a way that I have not experienced in such a long time, not since my Caribbean boyfriend, when we were good. But, it is not without its own issues...for I am once again the other woman.

Like so many before, I met this man on a passionate weekend in a faraway city. These gestures are genuine and endearing, and I love him for his candor and expression. But they aren't yet the grand gesture...the moment where he hops on a plane and knocks on my door. But that only exists in the movies, right? So, for now, I am keeping a slight distance, something that is very difficult for my "head-in-first" attitude, but nonetheless necessary. Because the movies have also taught me that they never leave the comfort and consistency of that which they know, even if its not the true happiness that they seek.

Realness

Ok, I KNOW that realness is not actually a word, but for purposes of this blog, please work with me on this.

I recently met a man that I went out on a few dates with. He was tall, dark, and handsome, not to mention charming and cool. He was the perfect gentleman, opening doors, standing when I stood, and pulling out my chair for me. He was attentive, constantly communicative, and genuinely interested.

Or so I thought.

Jump to today, and he's none of those things. After ending things quite abruptly and harshly...and after a slight bit of online sleuthing, I discover that he's...wait for it...you guessed it...MARRIED. Not as in divorced, separated - like he told me of course - but as in still very much with his wife and visiting relatives this weekend with their son. 

The discovery of this knowledge seriously made me sick to my stomach. How is it possible that another man can lie to me with such ease and unconsequence? How is it possible that I can be so absolutely gullible? To my credit, he was super smooth, super confident, and super prepared in his stories, his responses, his actions. How was I to know? How does anyone really know? How's that for realness?

As we all know, I have had my fair share of bloggable dating woes, but this one truly takes the cake. How's that for the realness of dating? So, the next time a man asks why I have some issues trusting men, I am going to show him the lineage of texts that transpired into this madness. And then ask him why I should? 

Memories

One of the blogs I subscribe to is also written by a single woman exploring this crazy game of life. She recently posted a blog entitled "Memory." This one particularly struck a chord with me.

While recently looking at a photo taken during a difficult time in her life awhile back, she states, "I remember thinking to myself...that even when things were awful, there was still beauty in the world, that life was still good." She goes on to say how even now she has the same feelings associated with those memories, despite everything being good now.

It's the song that takes you back to a special day, a painful break-up, a fun night out with friends. It's the smell that takes you back to a country you once visited and found your passion. It's the rainbow I saw on my Caribbean island the day before I left, the one that appeared after the torrents of rain. A fragile piece of immaculate hope in the surrounding abyss.

As one of her other followers states: "I believe that photos, music, images, smells, they are all profound parts of our memory and our memory is what makes us who we are with our history."

And partially as an homage to her post: We Found Love by Rihanna - "You wish you could have all that bad stuff back so you could have the good."

Adventure #24: Service Seminar

Last week, I attended a seminar that focused on human trafficking. I have become very interested in this topic over the past year or so, predominantly for two reasons. First, the city I live in is unfortunately a major hub for the industry. Second, the Caribbean island that has my soul is also a major player in this sick game. So, two locales that I love are involved heavily in this atrocity that enslaves approximately 21-28 million people currently.

The seminar, though dry, was a look into the history of slavery and the transformation into modern-day trafficking. Armed with more ammunition for wanting to make a difference, I have added more service opportunities to my calendar in the near future. It's time that I stopped being so selfish, so full of self-pity at times, and realize what a great opportunity I have to help another human being. We all deserve to be treated as such.

Try

Try by Pink

This video is simply amazing. The dancing is pure passion, physically demanding and powerfully cohesive. The song lyrics are real and intense. "Just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die. You've gotta get up and try."

I used to think no one understood me but him; now I just think no one does...again, profound sadness. An inability to be seen; an inability to connect on a level much deeper than the norm. And when you have so few of those instances in your life, how do you find the courage to "try, try, try" again?

Sometimes I cry, and I don't even know why. I find myself welling up with emotion, and then I try to determine the root, the context, the cause of such pain and tenderness. But really all I want to do is turn it off...something which I struggle extensively with.

Yet, at the heart of the matter, I simply want someone who can seriously love the laughs...but the tears even more. Why is that so incredibly difficult? When did we stop loving the innermost parts of human nature? When did we become less about real care and understanding and more about ease and predictability? Where did the passion go? And why did he stop loving the best and worst parts of me?

SCREAM!

Sometimes I just want to scream - not the kind where you bury your head in a pillow and let it out, rather the kind where you're in an open field and you let out a bloodcurdling, knock your socks off SCREAM! The problem is intrinsically in the infeasibility of such an action. You see, I live in a city, in the middle of a nice, polite neighborhood in the middle of the city to be exact. Screaming outside is completely out of the question, unless I want the neighbors, police, and local activist groups immediately on my doorstep.

Unfortunately, I have also toyed with the idea of screaming inside my apartment. Again, I fear that the neighbors will hear.

So, I am resigned to screaming in my head, and isn't that the worse kind?

Adventure #23: Seeking Spirituality

I decided to try something new, a new church to be exact. More or less, I've attended the same church for many years now, but as of late, I've had a tug on my heart. A tug to try something, well, new. And I loved it.

I felt "not only welcome, but celebrated," and what a wonderful feeling that was! It did not matter that I am 30+ and still single. It did not matter that I am on a faith journey of inquisition, reflection, and passion. It did not matter that at the end of it all, I just think we should love more, regardless of where or who that comes from.

And I felt...hopeful. A part of something - something real, something made for me. And after all, at the end of the day, don't we all just want to belong?

Love 'N Faith

I've recently realized that I suppose one could say I am on a faith, hope, and love journey. I know that the journey is supposed to be the best part, the memorable part, and yes, I suppose that's true. (A lot of supposin' going on there, I know.) After all, we LIVE in the in-between...the dash between your date of birth and your date of death. But I liked the bit before, before the end, before the now. I liked the bit where my life had a love that was true, a love that was real.

My Caribbean boyfriend acknowledged that perhaps I fall in love too easily, but as I've noted previously, I don't want to change. My passion, my pain, and aren't they often the same, is what defines me...for better or for worse.

One of my all-time favorite movies is City of Angels, because "some things are true whether you believe 'em or not." I still feel the same about him. "I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One." What is the truth? Was it the beginning, the in-between, or the end? Will I ever really know? Am I supposed to know?

So sometimes I cry. "Maybe emotion becomes so intense your body just can't contain it. Your mind and your feelings become too powerful, and your body weeps." I cry because I still have faith in my love. In my love for him and with him. And isn't that the most pathetic thing you've ever heard? But without my love for him, I don't feel, well, real in the in-between.

Pooh and Piglet

When I think of the type of relationship I want, nothing sums it up better than the relationship between Pooh and Piglet. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

It may seem so easy to you to be able to let go of someone you don't see often, you don't talk to often, you don't have a long history with. But, it's not about the distance; it's about the depth. "Some people care too much. I think it's called love."

There was immense comfort in knowing someone under the same moon was thinking of me. "I wonder what Piglet is doing. I wish I were there to be doing it, too."

My dreams, both waking and not, were often of him. "I think we dream so we don't have to be apart for so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can be together all the time."

I wanted to be in his life forever, and he in mine. "If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."

"We'll be friends forever, won't we, Pooh?" asked Piglet.
"Even longer," Pooh answered.

But "I used to believe in forever, but forever's too good to be true." Now, I feel that he doesn't want to be in my heart, and that hurts more than I could have ever imagined. I wanted him to love the tears as much as the laughs. "The things that make me different are the things that make me." And I thought he did...

Yes, I wish things had been different in the end. I wish he had been more compassionate, more understanding, more loving, but who is to say he wasn't hurting as much, if not more, than I? And will I ever truly know? "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

Piglet once asked Pooh, "How do you spell love?" Pooh responded, "You don't spell it...you feel it."

"If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together...there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart...I'll always be with you." He said I am these things without having known him, but his love for me made them manifest.

I still long for one day, despite him telling me it's time to move on, because "Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day." And is that not the Caribbean way, anyhow?

Answers

The Answers

I loved a man in a far away land with more than I knew I had...but everything has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Sometimes I wish change weren't so inevitable...but he and my Caribbean island of bliss will live in my heart and soul forever. But how do you let go when a piece of your soul is gone?

For over a year, I have loved this man with an intensity unmatched by many. He has been my rock, my guide, my soulmate. He understands me in a way no one ever has, yet...

Many people in my life would say, "I told you so." But at the end of my days, I will be glad that at least  I was never consumed by "what might have been." Though the immediate feeling is one of intense sorrow, I will one day be intimately and sincerely grateful for  the entire experience.

I never thought he and I would have a real relationship, but I liked the dream. I liked knowing someone in the world, no matter how far away, was thinking of me and loving me. I never expected us to not "move on," but I suppose I wanted a week to pretend, to pretend that our lives are parallel, that our cultures aren't vastly different, that our worlds are indeed similar.

But something happened along the way. Expectations were not met, and feelings were deeply hurt. We lost our way, completely. It's complicated, yet ironically simple: we cannot be together.

So, how do you find a new direction when your compass fails? For that is what my Caribbean boyfriend has been for me. I am devastated in the loss of the love of a lifetime, but relish the fact that I had it at all. And in the end, before he walks out the door, I ask if he loved me. And he says he does. Present tense, not past tense.

I am grounded in the fact that I get to choose whom I love, and no one or nothing else can take that away from me. And I am filled with the knowledge that the dream, the fairy tale, was real. It's just that The End of the story, as with all stories, has finally come.

p.s. As for Superman, I haven't thought of him once, and that was hope #1 for this trip.

How Can I Help You Say Goodbye by Patty Loveless

In Control

I have a distinct need to be in control. I think most people do, but there is even a personality assessment out there that classifies me as needing to be "in control." Like, literally, that's the name of one of the four types. As with most assessments of this kind, it fits me to a tee.

Well, the problem is always inherently that I have no control over other people, what they say, what they do, and it hurts. I mean, really hurts. An old friend of mine is adamant that I will bounce back, and of course, he's right, but that doesn't take the pain away now. He also says that my giving doesn't give someone the right to take to the point of using me, but that is precisely what has happened. Specifically, it's just in my nature to give and give, which ultimately leads to me letting my guard down and allowing someone to hurt me. The bottom line, though, is that this person comes back for more and more, and I allow him to take and take.

You may ask yourself why I allow this to happen, when it often leads to a lot of pain. Well, it's easy when the in-between is filled with laughter and fun. It's easy to forget that he lies to me, keeps things from me, and refuses to take ownership of his mistakes.

We all lie. As of late, I have been asking myself repeatedly why people lie. Of course, it's for a myriad of reasons, based on need, want, and desire and plays itself out differently based on any given relationship. But when you cannot for the life of you determine what is to gain in the lie, how do you make any sense of it? When you have been caught red-handed in the middle of an outright lie and still deny it, what in the world are you thinking?

I thought Superman and I were finding a good place for ourselves, somewhere in the immense desert between friends and lovers, but our friendship to him wasn't even worth saving...and it hurts, really hurts. Because he has so many times before, everyone believes he will come back again at some point. I'm not so sure this time. His statements had a sense of finality, and without at least admitting to the lie, I cannot move forward in any capacity with him. And it hurts to have no control over what I mean to him and in his life, regardless of what I thought I meant to him and what he means to me. But then again, if I truly meant something to him, there would have been no need to lie, now would there? So, what else in our relationship has been a lie? Everything?! The thought that there may be more is simply overwhelming...to my head and my heart.

Going Home

Can you ever really go home again? I really don't think so...

You see, you've changed. They've stayed the same, but you've changed. And how do you really rectify that? You don't.

I have recently been following a Christian preacher who went back to the church after leaving it for 3 months. In this article, he makes several references to how things change while you're gone - not so much at 'home,' but rather within yourself. Being away changes your perspective and in essence changes who you are at your core.

That's what I like so much about travelling. I become a different person when I'm away. I am carefree and full of life. I like the person I become. The problem is that I come home and everything else has stayed the same.

After my upcoming vacation to my Caribbean island of bliss, how am I going to feel upon my return? Satisfied or unsatisfied? Will my thirst be quenched, or will I still be desperate for that which I seek to find? So many questions, yet only time can tell the answers...

Moment for Life by Nicki Minaj because "Everybody dies but not everybody lives."

What If?

What if...

What if we have changed?
What if he doesn't look at me like he did before?
What if he doesn't like what he sees?
What if we don't enjoy one another's company?
What if his family, his friends don't like me?
What if it feels different?
What if our dreams have changed?
What if he doesn't reach for me in the night?

But what if..

What if we aren't the same; we are better?
What if he looks at me with longing and desire?
What if he runs his fingers through my hair, caresses my skin, grazes my lips with his own?
What if we can't get enough of one another?
What if his loved ones see me the same way he does?
What if it feels different because it's insatiable desire finally being fulfilled?
What if our dreams now include one another?
What if he doesn't let me go in the night?

What if...

For Better or For Worse

I have not been completely honest with you. I have been dealing with a few health issues as of late, and though I am hopeful that things will turn out fine, I would be remiss to say that I am not scared. 

We take for granted that those who love us will indeed be there for us "for better or for worse" and "in sickness and in health." But what do you do when you realize that's not the case? The easy answer is you walk away, but I just.cannot.seem.to.do.just.that. I do believe in my heart that Superman loves me (yeah, yeah, yeah), but I know he will never love me...enough. My head has known this for a long time, but my heart just will not for the life of me get on the same page. Disgustingly, it will catch up to my very intelligent brain, just to fall again...and again...and again. Argh!

But something profound happened this morning (I hope). Maybe, just maybe, I finally saw him in a different light. Now, don't get your hopes up too much. This doesn't mean that I am completely ready to remove him from my life (yeah, yeah, yeah), but at least I saw him a bit differently today. Not only does my head not want to be with him, but my heart doesn't either. 

Several months ago, I posted about the list of qualities I wanted/needed in a romantic partner. Well, one of them is certainly not rocket science. I want a man who falls in love with the smiles, with the laughs, but I need a man who stays around for the tears and the fears, too. A man who is indeed strong enough to handle all 50 shades of me.

I've also previously referenced the novel, Love Walked In, and I felt that another quote from that book was apt for this post.

"For all our talk, all our exchanges, we never handed over anything of real importance. We were all laughter and lightness and glow. We liked each other till the cows came home, but I never saw his broken places, nothing soft or stinging or half healed-over. He'd never seen mine, either. And I decided that [true love] wasn't possible without that kind of knowledge."

Anchors Away

I am scared...I am scared that I won't get everything I want in life, but really, who does? Don't we all have to make concessions? Choices? Decisions? Why would my life be any different? Any different from others who have lives of compromise? My fairytale dreams are no better than anyone else's...

But I dream of a place where I am me, where I am only me, and a man with strong arms and an even stronger heart can wrap me inside himself and love me with reckless abandon. But I am scared...

I am scared that we will have changed, that my island of beauty will no longer be. I long for his sense of assuredness, but no matter my uneasiness, he is always steadfast in his love, in his belief of 'us.' He may be the one who lives on an island in the middle of the ocean, but I am the one who feels lost at sea and he is the anchor holding me in place.

Last year, I posted a blog about a relationship in my life that had come to an end. I recall one of the most hurtful comments made in that final argument was that he didn't see how anyone could love me knowing everything about me. More specifically, how could I have such strong feelings about so many men and expect someone to see past that, beyond my past?

Well, my Caribbean boyfriend does; he loves me, despite my inadequacies, my insecurities, my imperfections. His frustration lies solely in my inability to believe him - to believe that he loves me unconditionally. I mean, how could someone, knowing I'm broken? Well, that's the beautiful thing about love, isn't it? It doesn't see or feel any of that. So, to that former friend of mine, I am counting down the days until I return, both physically and emotionally, to the place where I am me, where I am only me...and he only sees the goodness in my heart.

Until then, I will be left to my dreams of paradise...

Indecent (or Otherwise) Proposals

In the span of three days, I have received two separate proposals from two different men. Moreover, in the 30+ years of my life leading up to this point, I had never received a proposal of either type previously...wow.

The first was what you assumed - a marriage proposal. The most ironic part of the situation is the realization that this is not the first time he's asked, it's just the first time I've really listened. My inability to believe that someone could love me enough to want that with me...See, my Caribbean boyfriend is in love with me, and I with him. Our love is one that no one will ever understand. It is uncomplicated in a way that no other relationship in my life is; it is a love that stands the test of time. Others would be jealous to have such a love, and I am not ungrateful enough to take it for granted, even in the least.

"Que se mueran los incredulos envidiosos...si es que no aceptan nuestro idilio...nuestro amor no es fugaz ni pasatiempo, es valiente, muy estable sin complejos"

But then there is always Superman, flying around. He who would forego a marriage for a child. How can one even entertain such a notion when there is constant instability, inconsistency, and insecurity in the relationship? I would blame his culture, but ultimately, does that even matter? His love for me is fleeting and volatile. Even if I wanted a child, that is not the environment in which to raise one.

So, I told my Caribbean boyfriend that we would spend a week together loving each other and letting everything else fall into place as it may. I told Superman he was crazy. I think all of it is the simple truth.

Head Vs. Heart

Someone asked me the other day, between the head and the heart, which one is the leader. When I responded that I didn't know, he said I was the only one who could decide that for myself. Of course, I know he's right, but that knowledge certainly doesn't make finding the answer any easier.

I think most people would say they are both important, but is there a definitive ruler? Does it depend upon the situation? Perhaps even the person or people involved? What happens when one starts to outweigh the other? Ultimately, there are times when one has to emerge as the victor...right?

When you know your heart is going to hurt, but you just can't or won't give up the small pieces of happiness for the big pieces of pain, are you simply prolonging the inevitable, causing yourself undue grief and heartache, or is there any worthiness at all in the small triumphs?

Superman continues to circle around. There have been many, many fireworks, but also many, many disappointments. Can you really have passion without the drama, though? And if not, how do you reconcile the two, knowing how important passion is in your life?

Inspired by a direct quote from one of the most beautiful women in the world and one of the best dancers: Dance Again by Jennifer Lopez

Adventure #22: Boardwalk

It's been a long time since I had an "adventure" of any noteworthy significance. Somehow I strayed from a major premise of this blog, but I make a promise to both me and you to at least strive to maintain the integrity of this venture.

This week I treated my staff to a night on the boardwalk, with dinner, dancing, playing in the fountains, games, rides, and lots of fun. On the way home, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace and satisfaction. And that's precisely the reason I decided to take this journey...alone. I have not laughed so much in a single evening in quite a long time. It was truly unforgettable, and I know how lucky I am to work with such amazing individuals.

Birthday Woes

With each passing year, marked pointedly with days called birthdays, I become less excited about the festivities and more burdened by the further realization of my mortality. As yet another 30+ year passes by, I can't help but be reminded that I am yet still unmarried and unable to maintain a love of any endurance. It is quite humbling to be reminded that at the end of it all, we really are all alone.

And as he has been doing for several months now, Superman continues to plague my thoughts as I continue to dwell over what exactly it is that I hope to gain from our relationship, particularly the new territory I feel it has recently entered. I am not bothered by wanting to try dating again, but I have always struggled with the in-between, the exact place we find ourselves constantly. I know I am still enamored by his presence, and I must keep that in check as we have begun to spend more time together.

So, my sincerest apologies for the morbid post today, but as one of my fondest students always says, "on the bright side," my Caribbean boyfriend sent me a wonderful birthday greeting.

Patience is a Virtue...

...that I do not have. While in high school, I participated in a scholarship pageant, and one of the interview questions was to choose three things I would like to change about myself. My lack of patience was my first one. I seriously have none...none for people, none for things. I am definitely a product of needing immediate attention, gratification not as much. So, it's the waiting that drives me crazy...the unknown, the willing something, anything, to happen.

And in the spirit of this post: Patience by Guns 'N Roses

Circles in the Sand

"Everything comes 'round full circle." Do you believe that's true for everything? Do you believe that the deserved get what they deserve and the undeserved don't...in the end?

The last update on Superman was filled with trepidation, turmoil, and broken trust (again). Following that encounter, I emerged, albeit not immediately, more in control with some semblance of closure. For over a week, I have felt much better about the relationship, the beginning and the end, and the in-between, where we find ourselves now. Interestingly, as some things do come full circle, he's now the one who is uncertain and wanting...and I would be remiss not to admit that a part of me, though I am not proud of it, is revelling is this knowledge.

But I'm still (and always) dreaming of an island where I can make my own circles in the sand...

What Do You Want From Me?

It's a simple question. It should have a simple, straightforward answer. "I want to get to know you better." I want to spend time with you." "I want to have sex with you." "I want you to love me." More often than not, though, I get responses like "I don't know" or "I'm confused."

It's the question sometimes associated with the DTR. Sometimes it's the question one asks when seeking a DTR conversation. But at the heart of the question is an admission of vulnerability; asking it almost always indicates a need for assurance, for confirmation, for more. So, how disheartening, how deflating, when the answer isn't more definitive. And if he's not sure, then why am I?

The Chicken or the Egg

We all know the old adage about which came first: the chicken or the egg, but what of love and hate? Which came first? Did we love first? Or hate? Can you truly love if you don't truly hate?

A current issue on the national screen is that of same-sex marriage. If you know me at all, you can guess my stance on this issue. Whether you can admit it to yourself or not is irrelevant; denying some human beings the rights of others is discrimination and hate. It really is not rocket science. Why must tears and blood be shed simply to grant individuals their basic human rights as just that - human beings? Why must we fight wars for equality and acceptance?

And using and/or hiding behind your faith sickens me even more. In no worldly or otherwise dimension do I think the Master Designer is looking down/up/at us and thinking we are living out his hopes and dreams for us. Remember, the greatest of all things is LOVE.

I suppose love came first and over time, we determined that hate was simply easier...

And because you're long overdue for my other love, Romeo Santos and bachata: La Diabla/Mi Santa (The Devil/My Saint)

Monkey Bars

I remember a time when I was a child and I fell off the monkey bars at school, biting through my lower lip. I am sure I cried, for a time, but what I remember most is getting right back up there, not wanting to miss out on any of the fun.

When we were children, we had no qualms about getting right back on the bike after having fallen off. Why are things so different as adults? Why do we become afraid? What exactly is it that we fear? Is it the fear of failure? The fear of not being accepted? The fear of not being good enough?

What of love? When one relationship falters, why do we spend so much time reflecting on it, rather than just getting back up on the monkey bars? After all, there certainly are plenty of monkeys out there!

Superman Sighting

Well, you know this blog isn't going to end well...

Yes, I saw Superman yesterday. And it was wonderful and horrible at the same time. His confusion is killing me, and he even said the same thing to me. I know that I'm allowing and enabling the hurt, but I can't stop...yet. One day, I will be able to move on, but apparently, today is not that day.

And Trouble is something I seem to have plenty of these days. Enjoy this wonderful selection from Ray LaMontagne.

Update: Flying Away or Standing Still?

This is an update to my posts from July 14th and July 4th.

I finally heard from my Caribbean boyfriend. I can't explain how I felt when I read that message - to know that he was safe. He was apologetic for not having any way to get in contact with me and very sad that I did not come. I explained that there was no way for me to know where to go, without having finalized details. Of course, he understood, and I know that our relationship is as solid as it ever was, no matter how much or how little we talk. That's just how we are.

As I was explaining to the man who looks right on paper, someone who has actually become somewhat of a friend after all, our relationship lies in our secrets. Women base the depth of their relationships often on the secrets that are shared. How much have I told him about me, about who I really am? And what has he chosen to share with me? Because, after all, we all have secrets, and some we share, and some we don't. Beyond that, there's no replacement for being able to be exactly who I am when I am with him, so I forgive him for his lack of communication. It's that easy when you love someone, someone who really sees you.

As for Superman, despite requesting him to stop contacting me, he has promised twice to see me and then fails to follow through. Mr. Looks Right on Paper always says the obvious, the often hard to hear - do not answer, do not respond to his contacts. Sounds so easy, so simple, doesn't it? Then why isn't it?

And the *sshole has shown his true colors, as they always do, and has stopped contacting me, despite enjoying my company, my humor, and my coolness. LOL I'm never enough. I just wish I could figure out why. Perhaps there really is only one man who finds me to be more than enough, but he lives a thousand miles away...so I continue to stand still here at home while flying away somewhere remote in my mind.

My last update - my very dear friend finally made the journey north to his new home. His leaving, however, was overshadowed by a night of revelations. Sometimes relationships, friendships or otherwise, or as fleeting as the wind. And despite all things to the contrary, no matter what I do, no matter the heart in my intentions, some things, many things, are completely beyond my control. And therein lies the tremendous difficulty for me...

Faith, Hope, and Love

If you read through any of my blog, there is a resounding theme that permeates throughout most of my posts - hope beyond all measure or rationale. However, I would be the first to say that I am not the most religious person on the face of the earth. Simply stated, my faith lies somewhere in between. Ironically, I need structure for all things in my life, but for whatever reason, despite years of haphazardly searching, I have come to some sense of peace about my spiritual lack of direction. But there are times where I must admit I am blatantly defensive about my "faithlessness" when put to the test. My faith is my own, and despite not looking like anyone else's, I think it is beautiful. I suppose that's precisely the reason why people say not to talk about religion in public!

We all know that of the three, though, love is the greatest. Without love, there is no space for faith or hope, and at the end of the day, I think we could all learn to love just a little more. What would happen if we simply opened all of our hearts and poured them out for the world to see? My heart is crying so loud, but sadly, no one can hear it but me. Perhaps that's for the best...but in what world is it acceptable to have a timeless love with someone you can't find? I am plagued by nightmares of never hearing from him again, never knowing what happened. A year of loving someone in such a pure and organic way cannot end like this; it just can't.

I Need to Know by Kris Allen

Terms of Endearment

What are your favorite terms of endearment? Baby? Sweetheart? Sexy? Or are you one of those people who hate them all?

Not surprisingly, I love to be called just about anything with an ounce of sugar in it. However, terms of an intimate nature should only be used with people of an intimate nature. For example, I do not want the lady at the check-out at the grocery store calling me honey. Likewise, I don't want a man who has yet to meet me call me sweetie while trying to set up a first date. Even worse...over and over and over!

Leave the pet names at home, please. No one wants to clean up their mess other than you!

Update: The Grand Gesture Stateside

This week has been one for the record books, but unfortunately, not in a good way. As you are aware, I had planned a return trip down South to visit my Caribbean boyfriend, but once again, I am left wanting here stateside. He never responded to any of my attempted contacts, and therefore, I have no way of connecting with him. I am obviously confused and hurt but also again disillusioned with the opposite sex. Despite others' thoughts on the subject of our relationship, he has consistently been communicative and supportive, and this perceived betrayal is a reminder that it is HIGH time a man do something for me for a change. Where is my grand gesture? The moment where my knight in shining armor comes galloping to me on a white horse instead of me trying to fight the waves to swim out toward it. When?!

This week has thrown some curveballs, but I am doing my best to bounce them back just as hard. I recently spoke of having done the right thing, only to have the pie thrown back in my face. Well, sometimes, even a self-proclaimed *sshole can surprise me, surprise me with an ounce of gratitude and even a sense of humor for my honesty and directness.

And I finally told Superman to fly away and not return. I am taking my own readily-available medicine and not letting a man continue to play games with me. It is disgusting and very clear to me that his confusion and irresponsibility are completely unrelated to me at this point, and I am no longer going to cater to his, quite frankly, idiocy. Grow up!

It would be a grandiose mistake, however, not to admit that there are many, many times where I am genuinely, down to my core, grateful that I am single. I enjoy my life very much, but there are the times where I am lonely. And that is when I long for my grand gesture.

Song choice of the day: World Spins Madly On by The Weepies

Life Changes

I've written previously about evolving friendships, and I've had this topic on my mind again recently. I have some very good relationships with both sexes, close connections with people both like and unlike me. However, sometimes these relationships are forced to change because of internal and/or external forces.

A very dear friend of mine has recently accepted a wonderful job opportunity in another city. Though ecstatic for his next life step, I am heartbroken that I will no longer have his companionship and time. This has made me realize the importance of getting back on the bandwagon and further trying to accomplish what I set out to do with this blog - report on the wonderful new experiences and thrills that I am challenging myself to do.

As for an update on my soon to be Caribbean venture, I have not as of yet had an opportunity to touch base with my Caribbean boyfriend regarding the trip, which is making me super nervous. I am uneasy going into a situation that has absolutely no parameters, regardless of his tendency to apply island life to all endeavors. I hope that we at least have the chance to make connection about where to meet!

Doing the Right Thing

One thing I hate is when you try to do the right thing, and it winds up being the wrong thing. Some of that d*mned if I do and d*mned if I don't mentality, I know, but it's quite irksome when you truly have someone else's best interest at heart and they manipulate it against you somehow. Perhaps I'm still naive in my belief that people are inherently good, but it's revolting to think that they are all inherently bad, don't you think? Then why does it seem that so many of us seem to meet an excessive amount of these *ssholes??

The Whole Truth

I realize that I have not been blogging as often, but I'm truthfully not sure as to the reason(s) for that. I wish that I could say that I have been living life instead of writing about it, but I'm not sure that's the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

A few nights ago, I met a young man while out dancing with some friends. Par for the course of me meeting someone new, he was beyond excited to spend time with me, not even wanting to wait 24 hours to see me again! He was persistent, super sweet, and genuinely engaged. So, last night we met up for the second time, and the evening began superbly. Our chemistry is off-the-charts, and his intelligence and worldliness are extremely attractable qualities. However, the evening certainly did not end the way that I had envisioned. Instead of looking forward to another evening with him in the future, I find myself telling him this morning that it was a pleasure meeting him and expressing regret at not being on the same page.

You see, the problem is that I am emotionally connected to him, beyond the physical and mental connection, and yet again, despite indications to the contrary, he is only "physically" interested. So, this morning, I am left feeling sad, disappointed, and hopeless. It will pass, this I know, as I know the ebb and flow of the tide is constant...sometimes too constant, as it would be really nice to have something that lasts for more than a day or two...

On another note, my Caribbean boyfriend has actually disappeared into the sea. He has taken a job off the island for an extended period of time, and I have no contact with him. Beyond the uneasiness about my upcoming trip, I desperately miss our chats, the constant guidance and stability he provides me. Despite the distance, I have grown to count on him for most things reflective, and not having him available is crushing.

That's the truth, the whole truth, at least the truth for the day.

Parallelisms: Six Degrees Between

Sometimes I think the parallels that exist in our realm of the universe are incredibly intricate and invasive.

A few weeks ago I met a man at a concert of a different type - this one was of the electronic genre - that I had decided to attend alone. We had a wonderful evening of dancing, kissing, and well, you know. Anyway, I'll leave it pg-rated, but let's suffice it to say that it was an evening of some firsts (and probably lasts, too). Nevertheless, I walked away not knowing his last name and he walked away not knowing my digits.

At first, I was horrified that he didn't even have the consideration to ask, regardless of usage thereafter, but then, and ever since, I have done absolutely nothing but laugh at the entire situation. Sometimes being 30+ definitely has its upsides - things like self-confidence and self-assurance.

Now, I am admittedly a 100% certified google stalker. If you want something found, leave it to me. All jokes aside. So, of course, I found out that which I did not know - his last name, all based simply on his occupation and employer! Something tells me he doesn't have the required wherewithal to find my phone number in quite the same way, but even more pertinent, the care to do so. No worries...the ball is always in my court...

A week later, some good friends and I were out for a night of dancing, and lo and behold, we walk into the venue just in time to see the prince, the inside joke will have to be left inside, and his roommate enjoying some adult beverages. Needless to say, he made a speedy exit for the door as soon as he was able. Now, the city we live in is in no way a small one, and this "chance" encounter sent me into hysterics, definitely at his expense, not mine. How's that for six degrees of separation?

Fast forward to today...

As I am doing my google rounds on exes just to see what's going on in their lives - and no, I do not do this often, maybe once a year or two, seriously! - anyway, as I was saying, my google trolling found a very interesting tidbit today. Upon the ending of his former employment, my ex took on a new role in a very large company based in our city. Though this employer is certainly a major one in our area, it was still disconcerting to discover that he has the exact same position as...you guessed it, the prince!

Ah, the irony!!

Bitter Party of One

I don't want to be bitter, I swear. But it's just overwhelming at times.

There are things that simply annoy me as a single woman, particularly a 30+ single woman. Sometimes I am frustrated at the lack of consideration that many have for single people; sometimes I am completely appalled at the discrimination; and sometimes I am just plain sad that we aren't treated with the same respect as our "coupled" friends.

Let me give you an example...

Last week, I received an invitation to a friend's wedding. We are friends through a larger group of friends, 90% of whom have a significant other (ie. married, engaged, etc.). For whatever reason, I did not receive an "and guest." To put it mildly, I have been beside myself (as is sometimes the case with things of this nature).

Now, I assure you that budget has absolutely nothing to do with it, and even if it did, perhaps she should have been a little more thoughtful when selecting $10+ invitations OR having a shower that cost more than any wedding I would ever have.

Remember, I am a SOUTHERN woman, and in MY South, we do not discriminate against single people at weddings. I chose many, many years ago to never attend a wedding alone again. Weddings are about celebrating couples, so why would you ever deliberately ask someone to come alone? It seems extremely hateful and cruel to me, especially when the other ten friends in our group will all be there with their significant others.

So, what is a single girl to do?! Well, go and visit my Caribbean friend of course.

Nightmares

Nightmares. They can eat you alive, or at least asleep. My nightmares plague my dreams, and sometimes they are so potent they harass my waking dreams as well. My nightmares are often incredibly realistic and a direct outward portrayal of the things I worry about most. They result in nights of fitful sleep and hours during the day contemplating the subliminal messages my mind is trying to communicate to me.

When one nightmare has been assuaged, another creeps in to take its place. I am longing for the day when there are no nightmares at all, but something tells me that's not exactly what life is about...

Adventure #21: Insanity

P90X. Turbo Fire. Crossfit. All of these fad work-out programs seem to be the latest craze, and of course, I picked my own poison: Insanity. I must admit that there was no way in 'ell I would have ever done this without the coercion of a good friend of mine. Admittedly, I was skeptical at first and completely unsure about committing to something that was so regimented. But you know what? It's not actually half bad, and though it is certainly intense and insane, I'm enjoying the challenge and the companionship for 45 minutes everyday!

Does Superman Care?

After a month of missing him, Superman invited me to lunch today...and kept his word. Not exactly awkward, not exactly comfortable, I am still left with too many questions. Though I am no longer in the place with him where I was before, I still look at him with Lois Lane eyes and wonder why he holds me so close for so long? Why he continues to call me everyday? Why he tells me he misses me?

But then I also wonder why he says he misses me but doesn't try hard enough to see me? Why he breaks his word over and over? And why he sometimes seems, well, sketchy?

POR QUE?! Is it simply that he refuses to have his heart broken again and this is his way of keeping the walls around his "sentiment" intact? Or is it as my friends believe and he is actually being deceitful and untrustworthy with me, with my heart?

Does Superman really care? And what is my role in his life if he does? Too many questions...

Adventure #20: Sports Game

Going to a sports outing alone is definitely a blog-worthy event, particularly since most athletic events tend to be heavily male-dominated. That was certainly the case at the baseball game I attended last night. Although I must confess I was eventually meeting some friends at the game, it's still fairly safe to say I was alone for most of the evening.

I arrived early to get cheap parking nearby, and cheap parking I got - $0.35 to be exact! How's dem apples? Then I headed to a nearby bar for a drink and took a seat at a table - alone - near the door. I did have a few middle-aged gentlemen join me for a bit, which was nice. Before the first pitch, I headed across the street to the stadium and made my way inside. After grabbing some traditional ballfield food, I made my way to my seat. My friends joined me a bit later, but I entertained myself in the interim by talking to some nearby fans.

All in all, not a bad evening, but certainly not my favorite "adventure." I think I need to get more creative with my ideas!

Update: The Power of Vulnerability

I am enough. Not too much.

Several years ago, I had the extremely wonderful opportunity to meet Brene Brown personally. In her own words, she is a researcher storyteller. The author of Women and Shame, she is delightful, real, and inspirational. This is a talk she gave in 2010 on the power of vulnerability. Wow! Vulnerability is required for true human connection. It is the "birthplace of love." Without it, we are unable to fully experience all of those things that make life truly worth living,.

So to all the haters out there, I am not going to change. I am going to continue being too much, and I'm going to strive to be enough in my own eyes, regardless of anyone else's. And even more, I'm going to make a concerted effort to appreciate my shame, embrace my vulnerability, and wholly love myself.

And in keeping with the theme, here's a song selection for the day: Pink's Glitter in the Air

Great Expectations

I've spoken of great expectations previously. "The problem with great expectations is that they're often inherently unattainable." But how do you have hope without expectations? And I'm not willing or even able to give up hope.

So, in response to my friend's very sincere and concerned question about what happens post-trip to said Caribbean island...I will come home, cry for a few days, and move on with my life. But in no way would I give up the trip to forego the sadness. No way!

Faces of Sunshine

A few nights ago, I was updating a good friend of mine on the trials and tribulations of my once again non-existent dating life, and he remarked how he didn't understand what's wrong with all of these men. Of course, I laughed, because really, who would understand?!

But then he also said that he happened to be abreast of all of my "moods," which for some reason, reminded me of my many faces - my faces which never, ever conceal what I'm feeling inside. Regardless, if he can appreciate the many moods and faces of sunshine, why can't someone else?  Why are men so incredibly attracted to one face or some faces, but not all of my faces?

Complication is one thing, but isn't complexity yet another? My Caribbean boyfriend once commented that I'm not complicated, only complex...and isn't that an endearing trait rather than one from which to run away? If I were simple and not too much, would I not be boring? Do men really want boring? At least a man on a small island with what I would consider a very simple life can find something to appreciate about that.

It's easy to say that I just haven't met the "right one" or even the "right one right now," but it's incredibly difficult not to ponder at least a bit about recurring patterns and behaviors. The always lurking "What is wrong with me?" line of questioning...but then again, I don't want to change just to fit into someone else's idea of what to love. Would you?

Adventure #19: Travel Journal

As I mentioned in my bio, I started writing mostly on trips...a keepsake reminder of the wonderful experiences encountered during my travels to foreign lands, as well as domestic cities. This weekend, I decided that since I was going to be revisiting my favorite Caribbean island, I should reread the journal where the love affair all started. And what an amazing affair that was! LOL

If I do say so myself, the journal is exquisitely thorough on details and engaging in a way that kept me turning pages just like some of my favorite novels. Of course, it was my personal experience that I was perusing, but still, the passion in between the lines was absolutely breath-taking. And I don't think anyone else would disagree...the problem? No one could EVER read that journal and look at me the same way again! Oh my goodness!

So, summer #2 on my island of love...what shall the journal writing encompass this time around?!

Too Much?

Is it possible to have too much of a good thing?  Do you lose appreciation, do you take for granted, that which you have too often?

In a recent blog, I talked about wanting to be enough for someone. You see - the major problem is that I'm  simply and utterly too much...and especially too much to be enough. I am independent, confident, and absurdly silly at times. But at the same time, I also desire someone to hold me, someone to remind me how beautiful I am - inside and out, and someone to wipe my tears away when I cry. For how can anyone be one way all the time? Superman is always ok...ok every time. I am not always ok...not ok every time. 

Mr. Looks Right on Paper is already out of the picture. Shocker, I know. A man to actually stay around for more than the beginning...unheard of in my realm of the universe. And again, I am at a loss as to why I am not even enough to be a friend...

But, I'm going to end this post on an upbeat...no, it is not possible to have too much of a good thing. These men really are just stupid enough to not want such greatness in their lives! LOL So, what shall I do? I shall purchase a ticket to my Caribbean island and spend an amazing week with my Caribbean boyfriend, the one man who never thinks I'm too much.

Distraction

Nothing better to weather a break-up than a distraction...or two or three. Superman is still in my life, in some way, form, or fashion, and I know in my heart that I wouldn't want it any other way. He continues to - eventually anyway - answer the questions that plague my mind and overwhelm my days. And until I am ready, really ready, there's no use in pushing it along, because it will only cause the heartache to drag on indefinitely.

However, the man who looks good on paper is filling a void that Superman left when he flew off. A man who is surprisingly interesting, easy to talk to and be with, and intelligent in ways I've forgotten to appreciate. No matter where this distraction takes me, there's nothing wrong with having a little Mr. Right Now.

And, of course, there is always my Caribbean boyfriend, the never-changing beacon in the storm. And thank God for that little bit of hope. "The only thing more dangerous than fear is hope." -The Hunger Games

Missing

I miss him. So much sometimes. How is it even possible to miss someone so much? Someone you feel like you don't even truly know most of the time.

But then I'm reminded of my Caribbean boyfriend. I often encountered the same thoughts, the same feelings, upon my return home. How could I feel so strongly, so deeply for this person I had spent only a day or two with? Yet, almost a year later, my heart still yearns for that Caribbean island where, yes, where we fell in love, two hearts connected beyond anything we could ever imagine.

It's just something in your heart, some tug, some pull that overwhelms you with emotion, with fettering "sentiment."

Why, oh why, do I not have this feeling for a man who could return it?!

The List

I LOVE lists. I have lists for just about everything in my life - work responsibilities, chores, errands, scrapbook needs, and on and on. But when I was much younger in my adulthood, I had the list...the list of all of the attributes and qualities I wanted in a partner. I remember having things on the list like confidence, holds my hand in public, kisses well, plays with my hair, and opens the door for me. Though I no longer have the list, most of the same requirements hold true today in my dating life.

I'm confident you've noticed my list doesn't include some very obvious, necessary things...things like financial stability and emotional maturity. Not sure if I assumed these or if they really weren't important to me at that time in my life. Interestingly, though, my heart still doesn't focus on these conditions when falling for someone, but my brain knows better. The juxtaposition of the two elements is where I am falling copiously short.

Somewhat unknowingly, I went on a date last night. As always, he looks perfect on paper - physically attractive, intelligent, educated, a good conversationalist, motivated, fiscally secure, and emotionally available for a relationship (I think), but my heart is nowhere to be seen on the scene. Plus, he doesn't dance and we all know that's not going to work out...maybe I need to revisit my list.

Still, a new male friend is always a good way to get over a tremendous heartbreak.

Idealism

Is it wrong that I am the lone wolf in a sea of lions? It sometimes feels as though I am the remaining champion of the underdog in this world of thieves and plunderers of hearts.

I want to believe that his "sentiment" as he refers to it is honest and true. His responses and demeanor appear genuine and sincere. Like when he asks me where my insecurity lies? How can he show me that I should not worry? Am I truly so naive that I can't see what everyone else "sees"?

Mr. Right Now

All my life I've heard that I should look for Mr. Right, instead of Mr. Right Now. An effort to find a lasting relationship, someone I can marry, not simply date. A good Southern girl knows that ultimately it's not about finding a boyfriend, but finding a spouse, of course. The Mrs. college degree, albeit the degree I have yet to earn, gain, find, and any other verb you would like to interject.

But what is necessarily wrong with finding someone that adds something worthwhile to your life, even if it isn't forever? Even if you know that he's not the man who answers all of your dreams, only some of them? Is it not better to have someone in your life that completes parts of you, although he doesn't complete all of you?

Ironically, the past two relationships have ended with the same generic reasoning: I deserve more, better, but they just can't do more, better, RIGHT NOW. So, maybe I should be looking for Mr. Right Now after all?!

Superman is Indeed a Myth

Shocking title, I know. You were so sure that Santa Claus is real and there really is a network of elves slaving away in a toy factory at the North Pole. But, alas, it is not meant to be. Fairy tales most often are not.

This fairy tale, however, does not involve glass slippers and evil queens. For a week, I've been trying to put all the puzzle pieces together, to make some sense of the contradictory messages, but again, you can't rationalize crazy or stupid. The gripping problem for me is and always is the lack of sanity in any answers I can gather and attempt to analyze.

For a week, my Caribbean boyfriend has struggled with my indecision in regard to my relationship with Superman, but when I simply said he was the first man to make me feel anything like I felt with him, the translucent veil was lifted from his eyes and he could see...see the love that was allowing the intense hurt and pain. I wanted him so desperately to be the man I fell in love with that first weekend, the kind and caring man seemingly interested in nothing but me that does appear on occasion from time to time. However, it does not reconcile with the other man in him - the one that disappears from radar for long extended periods of time, the one that does not always make me a priority, the one that can not or will not intertwine his love for me into his life.

So, in his absence last night, another man reminded me of my beauty - internally and externally, my intelligence, my innate ability to draw others to me, something my Caribbean boyfriend has always said, especially as of late. And I danced, and I felt sexy and sophisticated without him, when all I really wanted was for him to make me feel that way.

Do you know what I will miss the most, though? The everyday call or text that I quickly came to love and hang on to like a lifeline...

Integrity

What do you do when you have lost trust in someone? Can you gain it back? Is it even possible?

I recently posted a blog about trust, an outward reflection of some inner demons I have been struggling with in my personal life. My boyfriend, Superman, has challenged my trust recently, and I don't know who or what to believe. My heart wants desperately for him to be the loving, caring person he's portrayed himself to be, but my intuition is yelling at me. Something just isn't right, and I can't put my finger on it.

Everyone always automatically assumes infidelity, but in this case, I just don't believe that. It's more of an inability on his part to trust me with his life, to make me a focal point, to include me. I just want to feel a part of all that's important to him, and I don't feel that way. Perhaps it takes time. Perhaps our feelings for one another have moved more quickly than our relationship is able to keep up with. Perhaps there are things I just don't understand. The questioning can eat you alive.

The crossroads. Once the waiting is over, and you've come to a time for decision making, what do you do? Do you travel forward together, or do you say that it's time to part and keep the memories? What about the expanse between the extremes? Is it ok to still be unsure, knowing there are so many things you value and appreciate about this person in your life, but not knowing about the uncertainty? Here's putting my heart out there yet again to try...praying he is the man of integrity I want him to be.

Today's selection has become a personal favorite: Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars

Lacrimonious

If you don't know what the definition of lacrimonious is, you're about to find out. I am a crier, and definitely not a pretty one at that. The feelings in my heart, whether from grieving or other sadness or from pure and unadulterated joy, display themselves perfectly in the tears that stream down my face. The things that are important to me I wear like a badge of honor on my sleeve. That particularly includes the people that I love.

Time to tear down some sacred walls in this post...I am blindingly and overwhelmingly in love with my new boyfriend, but as with many beginning relationships that are passionate and stimulating, this one has certainly had some bumpy moments. (And yes, love sometimes happens very quickly for me, the one who loves with reckless abandon.) These situations always result in amazing conversations that culminate in solidified understanding and perfected intimacy, but the waiting, the waiting is what KILLS me. It's the impatience, the unknowing that creates the drama.

But with Superman, as I will refer to him for purposes of anonymity, he's always cool, calm, and collected, exactly what I need for balance in my life of organized chaos. He is always ok, and we are always ok, no matter how long he needs to talk to me so that I feel the same. His patience is like a life preserver in a raging sea, and I hope that I can gain at least enough patience from him to weather my own personal storms of tears. Because sometimes the best and most deserved things aren't necessarily the ones most easily gained.

Update: Sit Down

As you know, I'm rather vocal about some things, like smoking, but there are other much more important moral dilemmas and issues that I definitely want to take a stand on, but for some reason or another, I don't. Is it because I don't want to stir the pot? Is it because I don't want to alienate myself or others? Is it because I don't want people to not like me? Or is it simply, minimally, that I'm just plain scared? Scared?!

In the past six months since I started this blog, I have challenged myself in many ways - taking more risks, diversifying my friend group, and challenging my deeply ingrained belief systems. It has been a rejuvenating experience. Everyday, I'm one step closer to the person I desire to be, the person I choose to be.

Yet, I still "sit down" on some of my major passions. Passions like social justice, marriage equality, and the right to choose. Passions that build in my bloodstream and threaten to erupt into a volcano of anger and fury at the intolerance, unfairness, and just plain stupidity. But as one of my professional mentors is always saying, when I point my finger at others, three more are pointing right back at me. Because I'm not perfect, and I am not always kind like I should be or always love like I should. And really if we just loved all people like we should, humanity would rise to its potential.

"While our parents battled oppression, we're left to explain that racism is still present to skeptical people who continue to benefit from white privilege but struggle to see how." -Time

Update: Silent Connections

I just recently posted a blog about how love can cross all boundaries, and I came across a terrific video that demonstrates that very concept. I think you'll enjoy it too!

Trust in a World of Angst

Trust. It's quintessential to a healthy relationship of any kind. Trust. It's inherent in our species from birth, yet somehow we manage to escape the naivete of believing beyond measure. Trust. It's the spaces in between...in between the commas, in between the conversations, in between the commonalities.

Saying you trust someone and actually living it are two different realizations. How do you really know whether the other person's words and actions are true and authentic? Is it simply enough to rely on your heart for such intense matters? Or could it be that you just so desperately want it to be true that you believe even when all arrows point otherwise?

In relationships built on lies and deception, is there a point, or series of points, where one realizes the other is being dishonest? And what of insecurity, simply finding it difficult to believe...believe that someone so wonderful can love you, just the way you are?

In my world, I am not cautious with my heart. I hurt immensely...a lot, but one day, I am hoping the pain and suffering will win, win over the skeptics in this upside down world in which we live.

Worrywart

I am 100% certified and certifiably a worrywart. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I get it honestly; the apple conveniently dropped directly underneath the tree. I worry about everything, from the smallest of concerns to the biggest of heartaches. It all boils down to those stupid feelings I've spoken about previously. Feelings make me uneasy and anxious, a less desirable version of myself, albeit perhaps a more accurate one.

I once heard that most of which we worry about never comes to fruition, but in the game of love, my history tells an altogether different story...one with a typically unfavorable outcome. So, yes, I worry. Does he still like me? Does he still want to be with me? Does he care? Does he like someone else? Does he...on and on and on.

The best part is always the beginning, but it's also the worst. Always.

And then there's my Caribbean boyfriend. A connection that shall never fade, despite any time or distance. An understanding, an appreciation for each other that is nothing short of miraculous. A hope for each of us to be happy, to be loved and passionately so, when we are unable to be and do together. Any lover of mine will simply love me for having something so beautiful and special in my life.

A song that once outlined every hope and wish I had in the world: This Year's Love by David Gray.