An Open Horizon

Okay, Okay... so I just wanted to drop a quick note to all my lady friends.

I've noticed a shift in the last year. I've stopped watching talk shows and only read Parenting magazine, so that may be the shift I've seen.... but still. The shift is an empowerment amongst us gals. I partially blame the gay movement. Why? Because you pretty ladies are emerging with your chopped off hair, boy pants and no make up. You are kissing your partners and the world took notice to how damn sexy you tend to be while doing it.



Lesbians are making hetero women realize they were mislead on what "real" beauty is meant to look like. Well, labels aside... you can tell the shift is style. It's kind of 80s grunge and I love it. Our teenagers are showing us adults how it's done. Tegan and Sara are setting a prime example of beauty beyond the magazines. Hell, the phenomenon of the Philippines Transgender Pageant have shown us that the beauty of a women is an open horizon.

So lets take this moment to smile at our beautiful bodies and faces. Let's caress our stretch marks from birth like honor. Let us make cosmo and other fluff magazines sell us health food instead of quick fix creams. Ladies, take a look around you. Skinny isn't in-- being healthy and loving yourself IS!

Now that I have a daughter I realize more and more how critical my mother was of my sister and I growing up. My mother is a bit of a control freak (she's gotten a lot better since my adolescence) so she just wanted us to be like her, which is understandable... but even with that said, I'd much rather my daughter be with the fringe crowd and dress in clothes from goodwill than be with the cool kids in the name brand clothes. It takes more confidence to overcome the Mean Girls than to join them.

In middle school I use to come home and cry for hours because of what was said to me. I would leave the house with my sister teasing me and then spend hours at school hearing about my appearance from others. I'd hear about who was wearing make up and who had sex over the weekend. One of my close friends was going to the tanning bed every day with her mother. I felt consumed with my outsides and it made my insides twist with confusion.

"If I wore lipstick maybe he'll notice me."
"If I wore different jeans maybe she'd be nice to me at school tomorrow."
"If I bought different shoes maybe I could sit with the cool kids at lunch."

By the time I turned fifteen I had already had sex, began painting my toe nails and would spend hours in front of a mirror trying to fix my hair just right. That is entirely too young to have had sex already. I had been sexualized by peer pressures about my appearance. It seems a lot of people don't see that connection. If you start out your child giving them stern gender barriers:

"No, Timmy, only girls play with dolls."

"No, Dana, only boys like the color blue." 

You make them define themselves purely by their gender and not by their interests. You are restricting them from expression and forcing them into roles that are way past due to be shattered.

By forcing your kid into the role of "male" and "female" instead of "baby", "child" and "teenager" you are telling them to act out roles of "female is submissive to her male counterpart" and "have sex to keep your man interested" because those are the examples we are giving our children at home and in the media. If you make your daughter define herself as a girl instead of a person, she'll follow all those Top Girl fashions and Girls Guide to Sex lists. Now, I'm not saying that it won't happen regardless and preteens are already developing their personalities and have their own opinions about things already. I'm just saying-- maybe it'll show our teenagers that finding themselves and loving themselves is more important than finding what's in each others pants?

[Quick Disclosure] I'm speaking purely on personal experience and theory.

Maybe it was because I was raised in a very religious home. Maybe it's because I grew up in a small town and there wasn't much else for young people to do but explore other people's bodies, get involved in drugs or get a job. Luckily, I chose the job route. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and no matter how many showers I took I swore my hair still smelled like cheeseburgers. I didn't respect myself though, I sought love through affection because I knew of no other way. I had been taught that love comes from the outside in, not the inside out. That is what I wish to never impose on my daughter. Why did it take me years in my twenties to realize that I had to love myself first? Why didn't someone tell me before hand?

O yeah, that's right, I was told jesus would make me happy and that's the only way I could find love. Way to give everyone insecurities and not let them trust their own instincts, jesus. What a douchebag. I didn't know of anything else. I was told if I put on my sunday best (outward appearance), gave my heart to god (outside source), and love him first (outside source) maybe I could be happy (inside) the rest of my life. Instead, it took me reversing that list and omitting religion all together before I felt comfortable with myself and began to love myself full on. I worked hard on getting to where I am today with my body. I'm still thirty or so pounds over what I was when I made this revelation but I realize I've had a baby and I don't let a little thing like baby weight make me reconsider my love for myself. I remember what it took to get to where I loved myself and I plan on revisiting those things to nurture my love.

Every relationship needs attention, even the relationship with yourself.

That's just my insight for today. Pass this on to someone you know struggling to find love through someone else. You can love yourself and still want to change things about yourself. Only you should be allowed to make those decisions about yourself anyway.

Rinse, Wash, Repeat.

Pregnant Log
[ Pregnant: 28 Weeks ]
[ Mood Swings: Emotional ]
[ Cravings: Cereal, pepperoni, chocolate, ice cream ]

The turkey leftovers have long been eaten (or tossed out), Santa is gone, and the big mighty ball has dropped. Now is the time for the whirlwind party that is the end of December to give birth to new life, a new year, and a big ole middle finger to the Mayans. We made it! It's 2013, I'm still pregnant and Hubby is still overworked. What's so different this year?

When the snow melts in places that have snow, and the flowers start to bloom in places that have flowers-- I hopefully will be screaming like a banshee trying to squeeze my little bundle of joy out into the oxygen breathing world. It only seems fitting that I would be giving birth during the time of year that brings new life into the environment around us.

Besides me having a baby, each new year brings back my same new years resolution I have promised myself since becoming an adult. My resolution is less a goal and more a mantra.

"This year will be better than last year. I will smile more, love more and laugh more. Out with the negative, in with the positive."

This year may be the year that I do just that. I felt like the ball got rolling last new years when I decided to break all my comfort zones and "Go hard or go home." Well... I ended up in a completely different state, married to a man and pregnant. Ha, comfort zones demolished! Well, that's not to say I'm uncomfortable but I sure as hell jumped through some firey hoops to get here.

All through 2012 I was reflecting to the previous year and where I was and who I was with during that time of the year. Every time I did those flashbacks I knew I was in a much better place surrounded by much better people. My main sadness of 2012 was moving away from my BFF and her family. If I could do anything different in 2012, it would be to be able to see her more. Maybe 2013 will prove to be fruitful in that area.

It's so nice to be drama free and for the most part stress free too. I see great things in my future for 2013.

Appreciation Day

Let's face it, the original Thanksgiving was new Americans celebrating the fact that they were stronger than the Indians. Poor Indians. I won't go too far into the actual history of this holiday but I feel it is a disgrace to simply overlook such details.

Anyway, everyone is posting statuses on fb about things they are thankful for, or appreciate about their lives. I felt a status would be far too short for my now very full life. All day I was thinking about last thanksgiving. I was newly homeless and living out of my car. My hours had just been dramatically cut at work and my romantic life was pretty much in the shitter. My sister had agreed to let me crash on her couch and half my stuff was in my hometown while the other half was being held hostage by gas prices three hours away. I didn't have a cellphone, was down to my last $20. My life had hit the ultimate rock bottom.
Funny how holidays really make you reflect on your existence like that. I had to be around my entire family and tell them I had failed at life. I had truly given up on life. I picked up an old job at a sandwich shop and started casually dating out of desperation.

I had cashed out on life. 

This thanksgiving I have an apartment, a cellphone, an amazing husband and a daughter on the way. We always seem to have food, gas and enough money for fun stuff too. Even as I sat in the bathroom this morning sobbing because I couldn't be with my extended family today it was hard to ignore the family I have created here. Hubby is everything I have ever wanted but never thought that I deserved. He supported me mentally before he ever needed to financially (even though he offered quite a bit).

Without Hubby and BFF I wouldn't have survived this long. They showed me what love is and what true family means. They have gotten me out of more situations than I'd care to admit. If there were subjects in which to give most thanks for it would be those two. (BFFs hubby by extention, they are both very wonderful people) They are the family I chose and that welcomed me when I felt the entire world had turned their backs to me. No matter how self wallowing and sob story I ever was to them they unfailingly were there for me. 
 

For that, I will forever be in debt to them and will always put then at the top of my "most thankful for" list.

I love you guys.

<3 br="">

My Boring Life

This blog use to be filled with desperation, longing and pathetic poetry-like words wishing and hoping for things that never seemed to be in my grasp.

Now, I have nothing to really write about.

 Well, not NOTHING... but definitely happier things.

I find those things to be boring. 

I have a boring life now.

By boring, I mean, I'd bore you guys to death with my happiness. I'm not actually bored. Far from bored. I'm domestic and painfully in love. So painfully in love if I was to put it into words it wouldn't seem valid. My fairytale would seem like a lie to an average reader of this blog. I'd seem far too happy and thus, must be rubbing my lies into the faces of those that might read this.

Truth is, my boring love and life is all I've ever wanted. We eat together; pass out on the couch watching TV together and smile together. We even work together now. Doing the usual morning shuffle of coffee, showering and putting on our Adult Costumes. We separate just long enough for work and chores. I miss him terribly like he's countries away when really he's just a few hours from my grasp... maybe even minutes. We openly discuss how happy we make each other, tell each other how cute we are with bedhead.... we gently shake the other awake when we have overslept. We engage in conversations that no one else would understand because they aren't us. We have inside jokes that happened by accident and laugh about things others wouldn't find funny. We are a we.

To you, this is all pathetic nonsense. I can't apologize for our boring behavior. It's just how life is. The most excitement we have every night is, "Should we get more beer or wine for tonight?" and "Dr. Who or a movie?" 

As I mentioned before, I have a job now! I have to cover my tattoos, which has proved to be annoying, but it's a job that I think I will really enjoy. My work email and most paperwork is now with my soon-to-be last name. It's odd, but feels natural. It's almost too easy to succumb to my new life. It's a graceful transition. My mother recently came to visit and she said she was amazed at how relaxed and happy I am. To be honest, I'm amazed at how relaxed and happy I am too. Hubby has even said he can't remember me ever being this happy.

I could write books about how enthralled I am with Hubby and our life together. I could write three blogs a day about how elated I am and describe every moment of every day to you. My facebook is canvased in gushy love statuses and tagging him with cuteness.

So.

Absolutely. 
Boring.

 (To you)

I even feel like I've written enough about it to prove to everyone that this is legit. Whine.Whine.Bitch.Bitch. It's all been laid out for everyone. I have nothing else to prove to anyone in a negative spin.... but simple happiness isn't exciting to the common reader. I also don't want to be even more annoying than I already am about this blissful turn of events.

So I guess what I'm saying is... You'll be the first to know when I have something horrible happening in my life, that will never change. Until then...

(No matter how boring)

Lessthanthree

This weekend I witnessed my BFF get married. The ceremony was quick and the party lasted all night. They are such a beautifully loving couple! I cried. A lot. I cried before I left, I cried once we got there and then I cried during the ceremony and during my toast to them. I was such a blubbering idiot. 

These are a couple that have taught me the proper way to love and to raise a family. I always wanted to have the kind of love they have. I was able to bring Hubby with me which meant a lot to me. Not only for the thirty-four hour round trip drive but for the honor to have him on my arm while I see my BFF get married. Well, I was in the wedding so he sat with my family but you know what I mean. They are not a religious type of people so the ceremony focused on love and what love means and why to get married.

The way ALL weddings should be.

It really must be love. We were crammed in my tiny car for seventeen hours on the way there, once we arrived it was wedding planning to the max and getting stuff ready. He doesn't know BFF and her family as well as I do so he more or less babysat the twins while her sisters, her and I scrambled to do things around the house. Their house is a decent size but still quite small for about twenty or so people milling about putting flowers together, wrapping center pieces and cleaning empty wine bottles. The house was also a disaster from the regular life of two adults and three small children on top of all the boxes full of wedding stuff to be moved to the venue. Did I mention Hubby isn't much of a people person? I mean, he's personable but his happy place is alone or with maybe two/three other people in a quiet setting watching a movie or making small talk. He was thrown to the wolves on this one.

We arrived at the wedding venue and everything came together magically in just over an hour. We ran a bit behind after getting ready and making our way back to the venue, but the short ceremony made up for it. As BFF and I were walking to the place we were getting ready at Hubby pulls up just in time to give our wedding present: A new cellphone! The night before amidst wedding stress BFF had thrown her phone (that already had a messed up screen but no cracks) giving it a nice rainbow shaped crack across the bottom of it. She squealed when she realized what the box had in it. I have to give Hubby major props because he totally made it happen. The cellphone was his idea and everything. We got her the same phone I have because she liked mine and we knew she was already familiar with it.

After the ceremony we took some really amazing pictures. (Well, had them taken of us.) I love the colors! Hubby and I went out with the bride and groom after the reception and danced the night away. We then faced another 17hr drive home. I drove most of the way to and from. Hubby said that was my punishment for making him go back to North Carolina for any amount of time. My CardioTrainer app said that much driving was well over a thousand calories burned so it's debatable if I should be annoyed that I had to drive that much or not. He was also kind of crabby on the way home but only in the way he said things not so much what he said. He slept a lot, I love that about us as much as I hate it. If either of us gets extremely agitated/angry/annoyed we just go to sleep. It's like angry narcolepsy almost. We both do it though so it's hard to be annoyed about your own personality trait showing in someone else. We finally arrived back to our apartment complex and jumped in the shower to wash off a drunken wedding reception and hours of being on the road. Then we crawled into bed and cuddled like it was the first time we had seen each other in months. Our bed felt heavenly. We fell asleep quickly and didn't even budge until Hubby's alarm went off a couple hours later so he could get up and get ready for work. He begrudgingly got up and got ready for work. When he left my heart sank a little... I wanted him to stay in bed with me and sleep the day away!

That's how I knew it was love. When you can go through a stressful (No matter a happy stressful or a negative stressful) situation; be crammed in a tiny car for hours of driving through state lines, being with each other for basically every second of a very busy weekend just to come home and then cling to each other like we hadn't seen each other through any of it.

I finally know how my BFF feels about her husband. I've been friends with them long enough that they would have their relationship quarrels in front of me like I wasn't in the room. (Well, I also lived with them for a bit so it was bound to happen) Even when they seemed the most agitated at each other they still looked at each other full of love and would instantly drop it when the argument seemed to not be going anywhere... only to be revisited when it had been mulled over and a compromise was being sought out. That's love, people. THAT is how things are meant to be. Love prevails more when it's not all sunshine and rainbows. I always envied their love in the way of wanting it for my own and now I can easily say I have it. I thought I would never be as lucky as them.

Thank you, Hubby, for loving me the way you do.

Photosynthesis.

I just want to be outside.

All day. 

Inside is the enemy today. I don't want to be bothered by video games or AC... I want to feel the sun on my shoulders and get wasted by the pool. Yes, getting wasted by the pool sounds most delightful.

I made a table for outside using only Dos Equis beer boxes and packing tape. Its quite classy... in a redneck kind of way. I guess if it was PBR or Bud Light I'd be more hipster... but its whatever. I'm very proud of my creation.

I am 98% sure I got a job working with Hubby's company. It seems very promising and veryvery well monetarily for us. I'm nervous, of course.... Hubby has the utmost confidence in me which makes me even more nervous. I also have to cover my tattoos. I dressed like a Sunday school teacher to go to the interview.... bleh. School marm, Beth... that's me.


I'm not married yet but I did manage to purchase a "wedding" dress. It's soooo cute. I'm also working out like crazy so I can look good in it whenever we manage to scrape $300 together to have the stupid ceremony. Our money is going towards a trip to NC this weekend so I can be in my BFFs wedding. I'm happy that Hubby arranged to go with me. That 17hr drive was making me have nightmares. I don't think he realizes how much it means to me that he's going with me. I'm sad that I will be missing the bachlorette party though.


This is going to be such a busy end of the month/start of June. I have a lot of good feelings for June. I expect great things.

And a name change.

"I don't want to be ANYTHING like any of your exes!!!"

Augh, okay...

So, I'm a girl. Duh. But I must state that for very obvious reasons-- Girls have irrational ideas sometimes. (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!)

Not wanting to be anything like your current's previous significant others is quite the irrational idea. It's also one that I am quietly struggling with. I'm struggling because I can see the rational side of it.

I'm getting married soon. Also, duh. One thing about marrying one of your close friends is you can recall how ever many years worth of previous significant others they dated freely in front of you. It was shameless because there was only a platonic relationship between you and whoever they brought around. (Well, at least in our case) I knew these girlscoughwomen that he dated before me. I spoke with them, they sought my approval and sized me up accordingly. I have never been intimidated by them and apparently that's intimidating. I, in some cases, got more into their brain than Hubby did. (It's a girl thing) I became their frienemy and got to know them. I remember picking them apart, quite often finding similarities between them and I. Sometimes it was unsettling how my likes were their likes and my hobbies were their hobbies. But then again, a lot of Hubby's likes were my likes and a lot of his hobbies were my hobbies.

Obviously things would stack with who he chose to date as well. Again with the duh

Now that I am romantically involved with him my angsty twelve year old hormonal self can't help but peck at my brain with all the usual paranoid ideas. If you are even slightly aware and female (Or male, I guess?) you know what I'm talking about. Those paranoid ideas just bubble up from within and you have to mull over them and shoot them down or address them aloud if they feel justified enough. Also, getting married isn't child's play. Marriage is not taken lightly by me and my relationship with Hubby is very much adult. I've known him long enough I was more than aware of who I was getting myself involved with. (Translation: My qualms in this post have nothing to do with him directly, I also know he religiously reads my blog, so I have to put that out as clear as possible. This is me just being a vagina.)

But anyway, I know a lot of girls feel this way. Correct? The whole: "I'm nothing like his exes, I don't even see what he saw in them!" Yeah, that. Well, ladies, I'm sorry to break it to you but that is quite irrational. Although I do want to say that all cases are different and you very well may be in one of those glorious "I'm completely unique to those of their past" things. Let me break it down.

People tend to stick with what they know:
If they grew up around intellectual types they will tend to date college graduates or someone with a prestigious career. If someone grew up primarily around a specific race or creed they will tend to date someone of that religion or skin color. If they reallyreally loved their mother or father they will tend to date someone resembling them. Or if they really hated their mother or father they will tend to date those that resemble nothing of them. That's the same with those that have a passion for something and they tend to surround themselves and date others with that common passion.

People tend to date what they like:
If they like poets, they will primarily date poets. If they would prefer red headed gym fanatics, they will stick as close to that as possible... Let's say Person A dates 10 people in their life time. Person A is a guitarist that prefers blondes that are also artistic in some way and loves dogs. It's safe to say Person A had 7 out of 10 that have lighter colored hair; likes dogs and either plays an instrument or does some sort of artwork either as a job or a hobby. Sounds logical to me.

If you've dated "it" before and loved/hated "it", then you will/won't date "it" again:
"It" being something: a trait, a hobby, a defining character of someone. Think: "I dated that guy Jake and he loved to go to the gym. I think it mellowed him out otherwise, so now I dig guys that go to the gym." So then you tend to date athletic people. Athletic people appeal to you. No shame, right? In that same way: "I dated this red headed chick Sarah and she was such a bitch and made all my friends don't want to be around me anymore if she was around. I refuse to date a girl named Sarah or red heads. She was a teacher too, no more teachers for me!" Same idea but on the negative instead of positive. Either way you are getting specific about the type of person you want to get romantic with. Also, no shame.


To the core I seem to reflect Hubby's taste in women. Visual appearances aside, I share a lot of their likes and hobbies as well as some of their personal/political views on things. Which makes sense. Being a vagina about it is letting that leave a nasty taste in my mouth and make me feel like a blow up doll with a common filling.

Since I am being a positive thinker and adult: I like to think of me being all the best qualities he found in previous girls all wrapped up in his favorite shaped box.... with my unique quarks and neurotic habits thrown in!

This theory works in both directions too, ya'know.

I want both.

Ten days. One Zero. Ten. Ten days and I get to wake up next to him, cuddle him during a thunderstorm and nag him when I'm feeling bitchy. Sigh I cannot wait! I can tell that he's excited too, since his smiles are bigger on Skype as of late.

"You're going to miss those babies!"
I keep hearing from... well... everyone. It's true too. The twins I babysit have quickly become my entire life. My reason to get up in the morning, my smile when I feel like crying as well as my hair-pulling, snotty nosed cry babies when I'm already at my wits end. They cry when I walk out of a room, they make me feel needed.... they snuggle me close when they're feeling bad. I'm going to miss those little bobble heads like no other. It's not just the twins though, I'm going to miss their older sister, their mom, their dad, their Mama C and PawPaw. All of them. This family has been with me through the thick and thin. They have given me a place to stay when no one else wanted me. This family has given me a job when I was scraping by at a sandwich shop. This family has done absolutely everything for me, without hesitation, without asking for anything in return. Leaving them breaks my heart. I can't help but cry at the idea of leaving them at all much-less in need. The boys are still too young for daycare and too expensive to have in daycare, anyway. The boys don't like strangers but they took to me the first time I met them. Their older sister asks if I'm out of the house for longer than twenty minutes. I feel more apart of this family than I have any family, ever. Yes, even my own. They accept me for who I am and always wish me the best. They have showed me unconditional love (Not required by blood relation) and now I have my chance at also creating a family of my own. It's the dilemma of a life time. I've tried not to think about it. BFF (The twin's mom) and I don't speak about it... It's the elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. I worry about them thinking I'm abandoning them. Is it too selfish to leave now? But staying hurts too. I feel like I'm happy with a thorn in my side. It's like gnawing my arm off to live another day. I want both things equally. To stay and be apart of this family and to go and start my own with someone who I've always had a very strong emotional attachment to.

I want both.

I want both.

I want both.

I've been going through the motions since I got back from my short visit to Louisiana. Sometimes I'm in the moment [with normal every day routine] and I'd think, "I've got to remember this, take a picture, cherish it... I'm about to move" and it still wouldn't feel real. As I'm nearing the single digits on my countdown, the realization has settled heavy somewhere in my pelvic region. (You know, where IBS lives.) I feel like it's a backpack when I run, a fly in my ear as I play with the boys and a heavy beating drum when I'm hanging out chatting with BFF. I don't feel doubt in wanting to live and be with Hubby, I feel guilt for being happy. Does that make sense? How can I be happy about something that will be taking me away from this new family that has stood by me for so long? Guilt because I've lost friends along the way and it doesn't bother me. Guilt because I'm so happy and quite frankly, I'm not sure I care who I lose in the process. (Well, accept the twins and their family. Everyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care.) Hubby means that much to me.... I hear that's suppose to prove you do have real love. The fact that the ones that matter supports us the most seems to be the shining factor.

This isn't a thinking decision, this is a decided matter. It's finally sunk in. It's real. This isn't a fantasy anymore. This isn't a day dream on a hot summer day in Greensboro... or a last thought before drifting off to sleep in the middle of winter....

This is real.

Holy shit, is it real.

Why We are Eloping

For one, Hubby and I have known each other for quite some time. Most of our communication and hanging out was done without informing the masses. Our friendship for the most part was private. Not because we felt we had to be secret, but because we never felt a need to blab it around town. Our time together was always special and outside populace was never a concern. Our mutual friends reacted both shocked and not-so-shocked at us announcing the news. They were shocked because no one realized how close we were and not-so-shocked because they could totally see us together.

I know I love him. I know he loves me. That is not in question. To us, we don't need an audience to prove our vows valid. Not to mention the gawkers that would show or the abundance of drama that could ensue from our drunken friends speaking to our relatives. "Remember when..." stories would rosy our cheeks super quick-like.

So I guess in a way, we are saving face and giving everyone the middle finger too. Not so much in a "Screw you guys, we don't need you!" kind of way but in a, "You guys are awesome but we would rather be alone for this." kind of way. So maybe the middle finger is just to our exes and those that were trying to keep us apart although we were friends with each other and we refused to stop txting and calling each other.

Don't take it personally. My grandmother (whom could lay an egg with excitement that I'm marrying a man) isn't invited to see the exchange of vows and legal signing of documents. That is saying something. Also, our mothers had the same excitement and glee, "I'm just happy you two found each other and will be married!" At this point they just want me to squeeze out a kid or two and us live under the same roof-- I don't think they really care about the rest. (It's all just a technicality to get married, really.)

Basically-- Us getting married is just a socially enforced thing that also enables us to do all those fancy things you're trying to keep gay people from. We want those fancy state/federally acknowledged things. Plus, I think he really digs the idea of me sporting his last name. Nothing to do with religion or if I wore white or not.... or what soandso said to soandso... and "zOmg, can you believe her hair?" Yeah... none of that. At least not on our dime. You can do that all you want from afar on Facebook. (Which, duh, will happen)

In two weeks we move under one roof.

C a n n o t       w a i t!

Break-Ups

I strongly feel that the universe sends signals.

Recently I seem to have been over-exposed to people very, very broken after a break-up.

Now, I realize that everyone handles breakups quite differently. Not everyone cries, not everyone is heart-wrenchingly upset. Not everyone finds it debilitating after someone leaves them out of personal choice-- rather than death.

The few break-up stories I have been exposed to recently (all on podcasts, btw) the person is borderline sobbing and could easily be misunderstood as someone who has recently had someone die. These people have been grieving the death of a relationship for the better of a year (or more) and the tears roll down their faces like the funeral was yesterday-- not full calender months ago.

I am truly take aback and puzzled at this. Yes, I've had really bad breakups. Yes, from previous posts you can see that I am still hanging on to someone from (kind of) more than a year ago... but I don't break down in tears when someone mentions her name or sob uncontrollably at the thought of her with someone else. I do recall being inconsolable for a certain amount of weeks and sobbing for hours to the songs, "Wait it out" by Imogen Heap & "Call it Off" by Tegan & Sara... and after throwing myself into a (horrible) rebound relationship with someone quite terrible I found myself retreating across city lines trying to escape from her. (and it still not being enough)

As I listened to 3 separate podcasts express ideas, stories and songs about being broken up with I tried to remember being that emotional about someone else. I tried to muster up that type of pain deep inside of me. 

I got nothing.

The jury is still out on the cause of this lapse in memory but I assure you that I've been quite sad before. In middle school I was burdened with being 'the weirdo' and 'the bitch'. I was mistreated at home so I would go to school and take it out on my only friend. (That friend has since never truly, in her heart, forgiven me for how I treated her, even after much apologizing and it being over 10yrs ago... but I can't really blame her) I remember praying to whom-ever could hear my cries to just take the oxygen from my lungs and let me die so then maybe someone would at least pretend to have loved me. I was so very sad-- but that never seemed to involve someone else. I always figured they justifiably didn't want me. (I guess that still lingers a bit today)

Have I avoided being hurt (honestly hurt) by someone by my own depression? I would also like to point out that I am terrified at the thought of a 'forever' with someone else. It seems like an alien idea. I say this and then remember the jealousy I have over the coupled people who live together and seem to be in that 'forever' situation. I've always been a 'for right now' type of gal. The one (legit) time I saw myself in a forever situation I got dumped for a curious-but-straight bimbo... so let's just say the feeling comes and leaves in the same second.

I've been reallyreally upset about a girl not wanting me or giving me the run-around and songs that remind me of them. I've lost friends to death or decision and they seem to impact my heart strings quite a bit... but the ones who have died always get the tears as oppose to just the 'I miss them' feeling.

Maybe it's because I have had so many people close to me leave me by death. Those that leave by decision always have hope left and when there is hope there is healing. I can never have another conversation with my deceased friends to end our radio silence. I can never mend what was broken--- But my alive friends: I can email, facebook, tweet, phone call and txt my way back into their good graces. (Or at least attempt to) So being abandoned by decision just feels open-ended. Anything can happen. They are still alive and maybe think of me sometimes, even miss me on occasion-- this goes for exes as well. To mourn the loss of a relationship like the opposing person is dead just seems a bit silly to me. I reserve my ultimate sadness and regret for a situation that is the only 'forever' situation I can seem to see myself in-- death; the deceased.

Then, here comes my next revelation-- Those who thrive in sadness.

Such beauty has come from individuals bitten by the sorrow bug. Some of the greatest songs ever sung would have never come to pass if they had not relished in the feeling of woe. They held hands with sadness and sang it a lullaby. They sobbed over canvas and their fingers bled as they formed the right notes, the right paint, the right instrument to express the hurt, love and longing. Long elaborate poems and plays were written in the search of closure from the pain and anguish from a lost loved one. (decision or death) These beings got comfortable with their pain and made a home in it, enjoying the feeling. They believed that no one else would bring them such joy (or sadness) like those whom have left them.

Love and pain are so passionate and so close in relation. They are brother and sister, as both are very different but came from the same beginning. Its for you to decide which is more unhealthy or unstable. Which is worth the risk. Break-ups suck, being turned down isn't fun.... But finding someone worth feeling for can be a rare but beautiful thing.

I say embrace what makes you satisfied-- whether it be tears or affection.

xoxo,

SallyD