A man.

Let’s talk about a man

His scent as I bury my face in his neck

The taste of his skin as I gently bite down

It’s primal, this need to nip and bite and taste

How about the way his smooth back feels as it runs under my soft hands, feeling… always feeling

Greedy and alive

His lower back, taut and ready and willing

To be touched and caressed

And the energy, shared between us as our bodies touch in the most intimate way

Feeling things we won’t forget until next time

Saying things we’ll forget tomorrow

Touch me, with more than just your hands

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.

Where am I?

I haven’t written anything in quite some time. The only excuse I have come up with is that I’ve been moving and getting settled into the new place. The move has been good. I (we) needed to get out of that depressing little town we were in. Oklahoma is amazing, beautiful and the quality of life here is already substantially better.

I read something the other day along the lines of “Being 16-25 is like playing a video game and skipping the tutorial…just kind of winging it”. I thought that was interesting. Here I am at 27 years old (holy fuck) and still not having a clue what is going on sometimes.

There are societal norms that most everyone pushes themselves to conform to. Like, at a certain age you’re supposed to have a nice car, and then a nice husband (wife?) and then comes the fancy house and the children. Oh and lets not forget a great job. I think music and television make us believe that it is the “norm” to have these things by the time you’re 30, when I know plenty of 50 somethings that don’t even have these things. I won’t even say that they haven’t accomplished these things, they just don’t have them. Are these things really accomplishments? Maybe to some people, but I feel like to more and more people, these things don’t matter as much.

With a world full of looming debt for college students and uncertainty for their way of life, more and more people are skipping the norms and just doing what makes them happy. They’re not so worried about the societal pressures to have all of the things that “normal” people have by a certain age. And maybe that’s me.

I am 27 and I drive a 2002 Chevy Malibu. And I’m okay with it. I have no car payment. I learned the hard way that buying a new car and shelling out $300+ a month was not a good decision on my part. I know I’ll need a new(er) car eventually, but for right now my little beater works. I don’t have a nice house. I have a decent sized apartment in a decent apartment complex with neighbors that apparently wear bricks on their feet when they’re home upstairs. And I am okay with that too. I have no inkling to go shell out $100,000+ on a house. I am not even married. OMG. I have a wonderful boyfriend that I’ve been with for over a year. Our relationship isn’t perfect, we aren’t perfect. But it works for us. We are both loyal, love one another and stick through thick and thin. And that works for us. I don’t have kids. In the last town I lived in, people looked at me like something was wrong with me. I didn’t have kids?! Well why not?! In that town, the only thing to do was settle down by the time you’re 20 and pop out kid after kid. People would ask me why in the world I’m waiting so long to have kids. I wanted to tell them to look around at all the zombie parents in this town. Toting around 3 or 4 kids, looking like they haven’t smiled in ages. I am not saying that its terrible for everyone. Some people I do believe were born to be parents. It is what fulfills them. But I see a lot of people missing something in their lives, so instead of being a kid and enjoying it, they have kids, and that hardly works out for anyone.

Oh as for work…I am an independent contractor with a pet and home care company. I really enjoy it. There’s no working with humans, its normally all working with pets. Which is great for me. The thing that is frustrating for me is, I have all this talent. Okay maybe not talent, but like you know, potential. I am intelligent, I’ve got common sense, and I learn easily. If I had a bunch of money I’d go to school and get a good degree in something that interests me. But I don’t have a lot of money. Honestly I could be a doctor, or a nurse even. I could be an English teacher at a university. I could be the CEO of a damn company. But I was not dealt the same hand of cards as someone else in a different situation than me. I was not handed a silver spoon and loads of college money to better my future. Instead I am a potential ridden 27 year old who is terrified of having student loans looming over my head, so I sit. And I wait. For my chance. I don’t know what that is though. I just keep hoping it comes to me one day and I can make my move. Get my big break. I’ve worked my ass off since I was 16. So, yeah.

I really am grateful for all that I have. Money in the bank, an amazing boyfriend and partner in crime. A job I enjoy and that pays the bills (that’s basically all though), a car that runs, and food to eat. I never want a six figure income and a giant house, that changes people. I don’t want to change. I just want to stop feeling like my potential is wasted day in and day out. I’ve always wanted to write a book, but every time I start, I always stop. I always lose it. Maybe one day.

Until then, I’ll just enjoy the little things. Like Stephen King books and Autumn leaves. And Coffee on a Monday.

Let us live

“We read five words on the first page of a really good novel and we begin to forget that we are reading words on a page; we begin to see images.”

– John Gardner

My boyfriend and I have been racking our brains to find a way to live. I mean actually live. I don’t mean go to work 5 days a week, for 9 hours a day. I don’t want to sell my time for $10 – $12 an hour, making money for a company whose owner I will never know or meet or care about. This is what I have been doing since I turned 16, and as each day goes on I feel more and more sick of it.

Working in so many different genres of employment, I have seen many things. I have dealt with many people. And overall, working all of these jobs has filled me with a disdain for the human race. How rare it is for me to meet someone I have a connection with. I read an article recently about how it is more difficult for intelligent and intellectual people to make friends and find love. It’s not fair is it? It’s not fair that people with average IQ’s, who see the world so simply, have an easier time making friends and finding love. But they find love with people of their same level, and so how many intelligent intellects tried dating someone of average IQ that sees the world so simply, only for them to feel like in the end there was something wrong with them?

I dated so many people in the past. People that were terrible for me. Men that didn’t have an ounce respect for me. So in turn, I had to learn how to have respect for myself. And when that happened I became an unstoppable force. I learned that it is okay to let someone down….to tell them it isn’t working. I learned a didn’t need a reason…It just was what it was. And when I learned I could do that, and quite easily, my life became substantially better.

Sometimes I have to sit back and remind myself of all that I’ve done. When I am feeling unaccomplished and sad, like my life will never go where I want it, I remember all of these things; I’ve sat in the sand on the beaches of Pedasi, Panama and let my feet soak in the Pacific ocean. I’ve swam in the oceans off of the coast of South America. I’ve made it through times when I felt completely alone and hopeless, and was able to smile afterwards. I’ve been to California, New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, Texas, Florida, Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Utah. I have traveled and seen what else is in this world. I’ve fought for my rights and opened my mind. I’ve trained in one of the best police academies in the United States, and although I didn’t pursue that career, the skills I gained are priceless. I’ve walked into pods full of inmates in a county jail, me against 120 and walked out to talk about it. I’ve fought men and women who are twice as big as me, and walked away. I’ve been so terrified I was going to die that my blood ran cold and I couldn’t breathe but I made it. I’ve been pepper sprayed, gassed and attacked but I am still here today to write about. I’ve let go of love when it was the last thing I wanted to do. And I found it again.

Now it’s my turn. I’d rather live in a tent with the sole duty to keep myself and my love happy and alive, than spend another day working in a stale building, dealing with entitled and ungrateful people. People who are so rude it’s unbelievable that they can treat another human the way I’ve been treated. I want to get away from the crime. I want get away from the pollution. I want to get away from it all. And we are working on it. Plans into motion. In less than a month we move to a new place we’ve never been an I am so excited. And most of all I am so happy and grateful to have found someone to spend the rest of my life with.