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.

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.