My beautiful disaster.

I was 24 when I met him. From the across the bar he was the most perfect specimen I’d ever seen. Up close he was even more so. His smile ignited mine and from that moment on I’d forget what it meant to be alone. He was a beautiful disaster. A swirling of chords and notes that smashed into one another, creating a sort of chaotic free for all. For once in my life I could do what I wanted, and what I wanted was to be with him.

Reality hit shortly after. The blindness I had allowed to take over my life was soon healed. The veil was lifted from my eyes only to create the perfect storm of devastation and realization. What I thought was love was obsession. An obsession to not be alone. Alone I was nothing but a mess of nerves and anxiety. I was no one. With him I was something. I knew how to be around him. I was exactly who I thought he wanted me to be.

The drugs took over. His pupils, constantly dilated, looked at me with fear and longing. “Don’t leave me. I can change.” He’d say. “People don’t change…you’ve taught me that.” I said, as I sat in the Panamanian airport with him, feeling more alone than I’d ever felt before. Salty warm tears streamed down my face for all to see. People, see my vulnerability, feel my pain or laugh at it. It’s raw and it’s real. My heart breaking more and more with every painful thought of losing him.

“People don’t change.” I thought. As I flew miles and miles away from my beautiful disaster.

Restless

I’ve feared mediocrity my entire life. I have always wanted the opposite of the “American Dream”. Since I was young, around 13 or 14, I knew I didn’t want the life that society deemed as “normal”. I was never extremely religious, I didn’t wait for marriage to have sex. I had always been extremely comfortable in my sexuality. I’ve been in love and knocked out of love enough times to know it isn’t for me. I don’t crave marriage. My biological clock must not exist because no part of me wants children, and never has in my 29 years of life. For reasoning beyond me, others find it appropriate to tell me not to worry, I will want children some day, when I meet the right man. The right man? The right man for me? To complete me and make me want to fulfill my known duty as a woman and reproduce? Please. Spare me. I’ll let you in on a little secret: IT’S OKAY TO NOT WANT CHILDREN. Yup, I said it. It. Is. Okay.

It is difficult for me to pinpoint the specific occurrences in my life that helped form me into the woman I am today. I suppose it all had to do with experiencing pain. I’m not just talking physical pain, I am talking heartbreak, sadness, loss, utter disappointment. The kind of emotional pain that you’d trade for a freshly broken leg any day of the week. I suppose in reality the saying is true: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I don’t know if it makes you stronger, but it certainly makes you more confident in your ability to get over painful situations. This too shall pass.

The first and last time I let a man bring me down to his level, to highlight my own insecurities and use them against me, was my second to last relationship. Short story: He was addicted to painkillers, I looked past this. He has a good heart and he’s trying to get off of them. Next thing I knew I was crying in the airport waiting to board a flight home from Panama. I had $0, and nothing to go home to. I was 25 and living with my dad again. I had no job, no car and no friends. I let them all go when I decided to fuck my entire life up with a guy. I burned so many bridges I can’t help but just laugh. Making it through that kind of betrayal and heartbreak really showed me a lot about myself. I won a war raging inside of myself. In that war I killed off a part of myself that was weak and insecure. I don’t miss that part of me at all. You can truly learn who you are when you’re at the very bottom. The key is to look, and not to give in to your instinct to give up.

Jason Mraz saved my life.

I was laying on the floor. Just laying there. In the middle of my living room, in my tiny apartment. I was 18. My legs gave out. They just couldn’t stand it any longer. If my carpet had been soil weeds would have grown from my the tears that soaked through to the under layer. I was heartbroken. I feel so terribly sorry for the first person to have ever experienced heart break, and named it so. A fitting name, so very proper for the way it feels when someone lets you down in the ultimate way, and takes a small piece of you with them. As I laid there, feeling like I just wanted to disappear, thinking of ways I didn’t have to be around anymore, a song came on the radio. Before, what had just been background noise, turned into a saving grace. The sweet melodic voice of Jason Mraz poured through my speakers and serenaded me with sweet, sweet relief. Life is Wonderful. Isn’t that quite a song to come on at that very moment. It could have been any song in the entire world and it was this one. And as I listened to the captivating music and the comforting words, my tears started slowing down. And finally, I began to feel again. That’s the amazing thing about music. You may think you’re alone in what you’re going through, but if you look for it, or in my case just happen upon it, you’ll hear something that yells right in your face “YOU ARE NOT ALONE.” This too shall pass. So I felt the carpet beneath me, I felt the cool air on my skin. I breathed in, I exhaled out. Over and over again….and I lived. I kept living. I realized that life is wonderful. And from there, I continued to make mistakes. I continued to get hurt, but it didn’t hurt quite as much.

I think once you’ve been irrevocably hurt by something and come through it stronger and more aware, it is just simply easier to get through it again because you already proved to yourself that you can. It’s possible. I can count on 1 hand the amount of times I wished I was dead. Sadly, I can admit this to myself and to you. Fortunately I held off and the next day am extremely glad I did. I have never suffered from crippling depression, but I know it’s out there. I have been depressed before, but nothing I didn’t get over. I know how difficult it can be. Get help, please. This life is so precious and you only get one. Take advantage of the help there is. Suicide hotlines, free clinics if you don’t have insurance. Talk to family and friends and let them know you need help. Help yourself. You got this, just one step at a time.

Thanks Jason, I owe you one.

Recipe for loneliness

I used to cry a lot. A lot more than I do now. I remember when it first happened, I cried every day. All the time. Little things would trigger the emotions and they’d come spilling down my face, little salty pools of sadness. But after some time went by, it got easier. The wounds started feeling more like tender little scabs. And eventually, those little tender scabs turned into scars that didn’t hurt anymore unless I really tried to make them. And eventually I stopped trying to make them. I stood up and decided that I didn’t want to be sad anymore. So I succeeded. I succeeded in so many ways. In finding out what I wanted and sticking to it. I succeeded in finding a respect for myself that is so high, I could never lose it. I found my morals. I got my life back. From a pit of depression and darkness rose this amazing creature, almost unrecognizable. But to me, I’m as beautiful as I have ever been. But I am also very much alone with myself. They say that you have to learn to love yourself before you can expect anyone else to love you. Well here I am. I love myself and sometimes if I wonder if it’s too much. I gave all my love and everything else to the last one, what if I don’t have any more to give to someone else?

I feel like I got my life back, but only half my heart with it. There are still nights when I am lying in bed completely sober and I suddenly miss him so much my heart hurts. The sobs hurt my chest and I feel it slowly start shrinking. How can you miss a man who did you so wrong? Perhaps it is not him that I miss so much, perhaps it was how I felt when I was with him that I miss so much. I miss looking over to the other side of my bed and feeling like the luckiest person in the world to love someone so much, and have them love you the same way. I miss the amazing emotional attachment I felt to another person. Even though you have friends and family, you can still feel completely alone when you’re in your bed at night. So to end this, I guess I am just still waiting for the rest of my heart to come back. I am still waiting for the man who wants my love and the one to give me his back. I want someone who gets my stupid jokes and doesn’t care that I say “fuck” too much, and who appreciates it when I do nice things for him. I want a man who can’t get enough of me, and I him. I think I want a man who doesn’t exist. And that’s the recipe for loneliness.

White picket fence.

Throughout my entire life I always thought that finding my one true love would be so simple. When I was in 7th grade I thought I loved a guy who was in one of my classes. When I was in my Junior year of high school I really did love my first boyfriend. I loved him in the “new” love kind of way….in the way that you really don’t have a clue what you’re doing so you just follow your heart. After multiple heartbreaks I found myself reading a lot of motivational sayings and quotes. In the beginning they made me feel better, but after the 3rd heartbreak I just started to say…well, f*ck it. I gave up. I just decided that if I can get my heartbroken THIS many times, I am just going to give up.

I can have a big house, with a lot of things and a good job, all by myself. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I don’t NEED a man.

I would listen to all of the stories all over the internet about how all of these women thought they’d never find the love of their life and then one day they did. And that they just knew he was “the one”. Barf. I didn’t believe it. I felt bad for these women thinking that their guy wasn’t going to go out and cheat on them. I felt bad for these women that thought that they’d found the one, and that he was always going to be around. Needless to say, I was burned and bitter.

But a lot of things changed in the year after my last break-up. I learned a lot about myself and who I was. And slowly but surely I started to realize something; I truly don’t need a man. But it would sure be nice to find someone to spend my life with. What is having the goal of getting a big house and a lot of things and a great job, without someone to share it with? Perhaps if I patiently waited I’d find someone who wanted to be with me, just as much as I wanted to be with them.

I met him at work. Well, I used to work there. We both did. And as soon as I saw him I knew. It sounds SOOOO lame especially because I was so opposed to it. But I really, truly did. Something inside me just lit up. And he wasn’t a Fabio look a like, and he wasn’t 6 foot tall with dark hair and dark eyes. Nope. He had a shaved head, and crystal blue eyes and all I knew was that I wanted to see more of him. Every time I saw him at work something told me that I wanted to see more of him. I came close to asking him out a hundred times, but I didn’t. I felt I needed to wait. And eventually, because he had no idea I liked him, I just told him. And he took me on our first date. And he made me laugh more than I’d laughed in a long time. I felt safe with him, and comfortable. And I fell in love. And so did he. And now, I know without a shadow of a doubt I want to spend the rest of my life with him. He didn’t complete me, I did. Long before I met him. But what he did do was show me that just when you are about to give up on love, love comes in whether you like it or not.

Now I know that I don’t want a big house, or a lot of things. I learned to let go of the material things in my life and focus on what is important. And to me, that is enjoying every minute I have with this amazing man who lights up my whole world.