Blown Away?

So things would seem to be on the right track, or heading towards the right track, with The Boy (more effort and attentiveness), but who the hell really knows.  I feel like I’m being set up for heart break again, but that could just be because it’s what I’m so very used to in recent past…how sad.  

While out with friends last night, a very wise and insightful friend (one I always heed the advice given) asked me a very simple question: Have you ever dated a guy that just exceeded all of your expectations; completely blew them out of the water?  Well?  No, I haven’t…doubly sad.  I wonder what that would be like?

I had a dream, a dream of you
One small moment, and then it was gone
But in that moment, this dream of you
I gave my heart away again
Do you sense it?
My heart you have?
I hope you'll keep it safe
Until the next time I dream of you,
And I'll wish our time away

I had a dream, a dream of you
A lingering moment of time and space
I woke to haze and mist of mind
Realizing my love for all time

woulda, shoulda, coulda...

Life never stops living.

No matter what a person has going on, or not going on, life still happens.  It's pretty nondiscriminatory that way.  I'm not sure if that is supposed to make a person feel better or worse, but it just is.  "It is what it is," as my brother would say.

In my near 10-month hiatus from writing, a lot has happened.  Doesn't it always?  I'm sure you're not surprised.  A lot of life can happen in 10 months.  So what's got me wanting to start writing again?  Well, for one thing, my want to write has never stopped.  I just couldn't find the words; they were stalled within me, choked deep down by a mental block so thick it took a jarring dream to release it.  I was just telling McG the other day that I never remember my dreams.  Did I jinx myself?  I wonder that I did, because only three nights later I have a dream that will stay with me for a very, very long time.

I'm going to back this up a bit by explaining something about myself that many probably don't know.  While I may be wittier these days in my life as I get older, I am usually the type of person that will think of a come-back hours after it was needed.  And the same idea goes for the "woulda-shoulda" conversations with the people in my life.  There were many times when I should have said things to people I care about, but didn't because I am also of a split mind that people get to make and live by their decisions and actions.  And who am I to disagree with what they feel is best for them?

One of those "woulda-shoulda" conversations, I am now convinced, could have changed my life and the life of one of the most important people to me.  He was making a huge mistake; we all knew it, but I just couldn't say a thing to contradict his current path.  I know I can't take all the blame; none of us said a thing to him.  And then there is the fact that it was ultimately his decision to make, right or wrong.

That "woulda-shoulda" conversation is what came back to haunt me last night in my dream.  It is truly one of the few things I regret in my life.  There aren't many things I regret, but this conversation that never happened is one of them.  I'm not sure what triggered this dream, and I'm not really sure it matters.  But the ache and anguish I felt when I woke up was enough to break through the writers block.  The dream itself was a happy one; one filled with love and joy, laughter, family and friends.  But it was a false-hood; a possibility of what an aspect of life could have been on a different path if that conversation had happened.  So the ache and anguish I felt when I woke up was from the emptiness of not having what the dream had shown me.  It has me thinking if there is a way to go back, how would I have started that conversations?  

Ode to a Best Friend

I first met you when we were both 9. I was 9 years old and you were 9 months.

I heard you crying, abandoned, hungry and lost.

I took you in, cared for you, fed you, hid you from my parents.

When I'd get home from school, I would go to you in the basement where I kept you hidden from mom and dad; I snuck you my favorite foods from dinner time, keeping some stowed away in my napkin - fish sticks, chicken nuggets, some milk.

You gobbled it all up and kept licking my fingers when I ran out of food to feed you. You were just a baby, and still you had a powerful voice to mewl and meow when you were still hungry.

You got me in trouble when Mom heard the meow.

But you charmed us all and we kept you.

You were the newest member of our family, which was great because I was tired of being the youngest.

You lived a long life of 17 years, during which time you listened to me whisper secrets to you at night-time. You were the first I told about my first boyfriend in the 6th grade and how he won me a stuffed animal at the Roller Rink.

You were better than any imaginary friend I could have thought up.

I taught you to play fetch and to nap...or maybe you taught me how to nap.

You were spry and loving, even when you were sick.

I will miss you.

In memory of Ashley; September 1991 - November 2008

Been a while, huh?! I have no idea if my readers are still reading, not that I'd blame them...I haven't written in practically two months! ouch!

Is it for lack of material? Definitely not...SO definitely not (Bubbles can always attest to that). And I can't even say it's lack of time...

I guess I'm just falling out of love with Blogger, or the concept of it. I will try to write when I feel the enthusiasm to, or the urge to share some insane adventure that I know y'all would benefit from, but in the meantime I am truly just trying to get through my days as painlessly as possible!

Some key things to note from the past two months:

~ Roommie is no longer "roommie." She moved out quite suddenly and is hopefully finding herself a good life

~ I am staying where I am, converting my big ass apartment into my, and only my, domicile.

~ All doctor appointments lately have come back with A-OK results

~ My sister got engaged! Hooray! Her Squish is pretty awesome, he makes her happy, therefore I'm happy...and now I get to learn all about what it means to be Maid Of Honor!

~ All of my closest friends all have significant others, leaving me for the first time the only single person in the group. A tad unsettling, but boy oh boy am I learning a lot of stuff about me...

And that's about all for now...back to the grindstone. Hope all is well with you in the world wide webby!

Contrasts

As I was sitting on the train heading home during rush hour one day, i was surrounded by many sights and sounds. So many people dealing with the end of their day in different ways. Some reading, some sleeping, some working and many talking and chatting.

To my left there are two women and two toddlers, one of whom is communicating loudly and incoherently; I think she may be autistic. To my right, three young ladies avidly typing away on their black berries, IMing each other, as is evident from the looks and giggles they are sharing at some inside joke. But these ladies are deaf, as you can tell from the occasional signing. Either scenario wouldn't have been odd or strange to me, but seeing these two groups side by side in the same place was just one of those things that make you go "huh!"

Being raised by a woman who teaches speech language development for kids with special needs, I'm pretty sensitive to , and aware of, these children in my surroundings. This scene did not bother me in the least. In fact, I was happy to see these children interacting as normal children would! But sadly, I was curious to see the "normal" people around me getting uncomfortable. Visibly to the point where one person actually got up and moved, leaving on a heavy sigh with a curt glare.

People just plain suck.

All The Small Things...

It’s the little things in life that seem to make or break me in the past few years. The huge things that happen, I find are easier to take in stride because they are SO big, how can anything you do possibly change them? But on a smaller scale, it should be the little things in life that we can change. You know; don’t sweat the small stuff?!

This past week, I’ve been staying at my brothers while he’s away. It’s been great for two reasons: 1. kitty love! All the belly rubbing, face smearing I can stand to take from two of the most adorable brother/sister kittens I have ever seen. And 2, it’s gotten me out of my place while Roommie has been doing her thing and moving out. Being in a new place this week has lowered my blood pressure considerably, but the change of scenery and different routine has thrown me off a little bit. I get up at a different time of morning; am greeted with mewling and head-butts; showering in a much nicer bathroom than mine; taking a different route to work in the morning! All wonderfully different in their own right. Small things that have lifted me up!

This morning, however, as I was walking to the subway, I glance down to keep my eyes on the sidewalk. I don’t really know why; it’s the first time I’ve done that in a long time, but I just wanted to. And what did I see? The name of Dutchboy in a heart carved into the pavement, like someone ran a stick through it as the cement was drying. No joke! And for those who know his name, it’s not exactly a common name here OR there. So, of course, I get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; the recognition of something fantastic lost. Small things.

As I walk past it, and down in the subway station I try to shake it off so I pull out my book. Currently, I’m reading a fabulous book (Twilight by Stephanie Meyer). The point I am at in the story is where the awkward teenage girl is spending the afternoon with the ethereal teenage vampire guy. And they are spending the afternoon in the sun (sun killing vampires is a myth in this book), holding hands and talking. And he tells her that the feeling of warmth from her hand is the most amazing thing to him. And I get that sinking feeling again, at something as small and simple as holding someone’s hand. The sense that you’re wanted exactly where you are in my mind is priceless, and I yearn for that. I shouldn’t miss it, because how do you miss something you’ve never had. I have never really had that before with any of the guys I’ve dated, but as I get older I am appreciating the small things in life, like holding someone’s hand. Small things.
I head back to my place tomorrow night to take in damage control of the state my apartment was left in after the move. I know what it looked like before hand, so I have little hope. But I do plan on closing all the blinds in the living room, open up a really expensive bottle of wine, and then drink it in entirety while sitting on my couch…in my underwear. Small things.