You bore me... No, seriously, you do.

It’s Time to Let Go
(It will all be okay)

Sometimes letting go of a dream from your past hurts just as much as letting go of a dream that involves your future. The regrets will always be there, but eventually you must move on, even in some cases consider it a selfish thing to do if you stay. Although, sometimes you’ll cherish every moment of those wild and rebellious regrets so much so that you seek out that person you were in those seconds, the spontaneity and fire in the eyes of the person that the actions held dreaming that you could be that person in every moment of your life. Then the skeptic in us, do we ever really learn how to let go?  Maybe we just learn how to deal?

I used to close my eyes, and listen to you breathe, syncing my breath to the relaxations of your lungs. Your heart beat a poly rhythm I couldn’t match. I would breathe in, relax my mind and submerge into this cloud of absolute nothingness, even sometimes feel my eyes water from the desire to feel at peace with my mind like my body did around you, and still not ever simplify myself enough to reach my emotional desires. In a sense, I held on too easily.


When I am alone for too long my mind starts to wonder and my heart gets into trouble. I contemplate picking up my phone, knowing all along, you won’t reply, but tempting my luck and trying anyway. Understanding that lesson should have happened long ago, just as understanding you should have happened long ago. You’re me in the male form.  Face it, how much have you actually finished in your life, things that you’ve started to work on, and never actually finished. Things you may have been interested in, tried, got bored with, and let go.
My friends and family used to panic when I used the term “dating” … They never panicked for me though. Only for the person involved. After my divorce it became a running game of sorts. I became the family member they bet on, joked with, and dug for weekend stories in. (Oh, come on, we’ve all got that member that shows up at 1 o’clock when the gathering began promptly at 11 o’clock, all blurry eyed and sobering up, we’ve all been there in reality, don’t kid yourself)
They only panicked because they knew the drill. I’d amuse myself with the persons stories, refrain from physical contact, and humor myself with their emotional efforts to connect… and then, the moment that I began to allow myself to emotionally have my feelings sewn to that person, far before any sexual contact occurred .. I’d snip the cords and wean myself back into the normalcy of my 8-4 P.M. job and tiny little fingers entwined in mine, refusing to settle for anything less than fireworks. Nearly content with the terminally single side of my comfort zone, and then you come along.

Out of nowhere that night, you walked into the bar, batted those eyes, and caused my knees to feel weaker than they have ever felt before. You hadn’t been roped, and I think more than anything I was determined, come hell or high water, that I would figure out why. I’ll say, I did a damned good job hanging in there…


…. 4/12
Funny that I ran back across this file, and I can not bring myself to delete it. Sucks actually, because after a year and nearly a half of being (not second, but fifth best…) to everything in your life, I should have the wanton to erase every single horrid memory of how weak I’ve become out of my life, yet, I cringe at the very thought of erasing any memory of you out of my life.

Yesterday we buried a man, who, stood beside me regardless of my decisions.
“There is nothing in this entire world that could replace the memories gained with your loved ones in time, so I’ve asked God to take extra special care of the ones you can’t remember, so that you can share them with your stories down the road, because the three of you deserve more than anyone could ever give you. Keep looking like you don’t understand in life, always ask questions, always remember your promises to one another. You’ve began a miracle in raising these two, and if you’ll instill loyalty and trust, nothing is impossible. One of the most wonderful achievements in my life, is that I’ve been able to go through all of this with you, to watch you grow into the strong and vulnerable woman that you are, and your vulnerability is proof that no matter what, you’re only human in the end. Remember that as you let your children into this world, and let them go slowly.
I miss mornings waking up beside you. Miserably. Nana says that sting will haunt me until I pass it with liquor or death. I prefer neither; I just know that this sting is something beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. I’d do anything to wake up and feel your arm around me, snuggle my head back in your chest, and listen to your heart beat rapidly again. As silly as it sounds, I’d give anything to have you come into the bedroom of the old house, freezing cold, complaining because you smell like the fire at from your evening social gatherings, and jump under the covers with you begging you not to run so I could warm my toes up again. Silly, I know. I know.
Somehow I managed to forget those small things. . .

1/11/13

Funny. Two years to write to tell you that I love you. I could say it. I could write it. I couldn’t grasp it enough to express its intent, but I knew it was real.

Was.

We were never right for each other. We were the wrong people coming into the right time. It never got easier, it just got simpler to acknowledge with time. Regrettably so. The nightmares are back. The ones where I’m in the black room and I can hear their voices and can’t get to them. This time, I can hear yours too. I thought by now it wouldn’t mean so much, but funny how our thoughts eat us alive sometimes. Is it thoughts or regret that keep me awake at night? Regret for never slowing down and never breaking down my wall? Thoughts that maybe someone will come holding a silver platter with all the answers to all of the questions that burn the candle that keeps me awake at night? Why is it that you always come to the rescue and never even mean to? You just always happen along, but never with the right words.

3/13

I’d expect to finish this blog/journal/whatever the hell it is tonight.  I remember writing them all. I remember that no matter how much I tried to suppress the tears, they came flowing in with no way of controlling them. I hate you for making me so weak, yet love you for making me realize that I was capable of being human and able to feel. As much as I miss your embrace, I’m over you.

My children love me unconditionally. I’ve drowned myself in them to suppress the loneliness that creeps in from time to time. That’s the hardest part of this whole damned thing. I loathe the way that alone feels. I’ve got no one but myself to blame for that either by the way. Refusal to commit is a bitch. I just feel like if I settle for partial happiness I let us all down in the most miserable way possible. I can be perfectly content washing my own damned laundry without having someone bitching at me for no apparent reason other than he had a bad day, it makes sleeping alone look cozy.