Saturday, May 25, 2013

You have no right

"You have no right to ask me how I feel.
You have no right to speak to me so kind.
I can't go on, just holding on to ties
Now that we're living separate lives."

Those words are from one of my favorite Phil Collin's songs, "Separate Lives." It is a beautiful song, but until the last few years it never really struck a chord.

I write sometimes about the one who got away, or the right man at the wrong time, or even to wrong man at the right time. I honestly believe God has a plan for me. Every relationship I've been in has taught me a little bit more about myself. 

I have been examining past relationships lately, and trying to get to know me again. Thinking back at my feelings and reactions at certain points in my life. I tend to run scared. I back away from actually feeling anything, or if I do feel something, I hide it in fear of rejection. Not very good behavior on my part. I guess I always figured I'd know the second I met someone. The stars would shine and music would play. I forgot to figure in the fact that I overanalyze everything.

I recently had an opportunity to talk to an ex of mine. I hurt him. I know I did. I also loved him. He scared the crap out of me. Everything about our short relationship (so short, most people never knew we ever dated) was intense. It was a fluke. We never should have even been around each other. It was like lightening struck. From the beginning, we spent every minute we could together. But me, I had plans. I needed to get out and away in the worst way. There were lots of other factors, which I will not discuss, but I couldn't do it. I chose to say goodbye. He ended up getting married a few years later. I actually saw him a couple of days before the wedding. I wished him luck and walked away with the sense I did the right thing.

Damn me and my guilty conscience. I made the decision to leave. I decided that I couldn't be tied down. I didn't factor in that someone might be willing to wait. Or work with me. I just felt trapped. I was not ready. In my panic, I forgot to look around me into the eyes of someone who loved me. To finally learn just what I meant to him, I feel like I want to fly, but at the same time feel like a knife has been stuck in my heart.

I have said I can't stand jealousy, but a little is a good thing. I would never purposely try to make someone jealous, but sometimes it can't be helped. Someone recently said to me that even though they have no right to be they were a little jealous. They can't be. I don't belong to them. I never really did. In another life, things might be different. He is jealous of my freedom and I am jealous of his lack of freedom.

Regardless of that, there are still lots of feelings lurking around. And I'm allowed resentful feelings. I can't regret what I did because I did the right thing. But now I'm alone. If I had been a little braver and less selfless, I might be the one with the family. We might have been the ones with a family. There is nothing that can be done to change things now. 

I think that was the last time I was selfless to the point I hurt myself. I gave up something that meant so much because of guilt I felt. At this point I refuse to feel guilty. I do do selfless things, but if I can avoid noticing someone else's need I will. I am very selfish and self-centered. I do it on purpose. It puts cracks in the dam of my tough facade when I take a real look at what's going on around me and notice things. Maybe my dam needs to break so I can function better or maybe not. 

Back to the lyrics of the song, no one currently has the right to ask me how I feel, or to treat me kind. I sometimes get looks of concern from an ex, and I want to say - where was that concern when we were together??? He has no right to think of me, and look at me, or be concerned about me. Every time I catch a glimpse of those feelings, or someone tells me how much I meant to them, and they wish things could be different, I think of the song referenced above, and the lines I quote below:

"Someday I might, find myself looking in your eyes,
But for now we'll go on living separate lives."

Selfish Creature

I am a very selfish creature by nature. I tend to live for self-gratification. I'm in my own world most of the time, and don't notice what is going on in other people's lives.

My mom understood why I do that. I am a super compassionate person. I feel others pain. I can't stand to see anyone in pain, or hurting. It hurts me to see others hurting. That is why I cut myself off. If I don't engage or get involved, I don't hurt. Some say that makes me cold. I say it helps me function.

It's called self-preservation. I do it well. And most times I am wrapped up in my own little world. I didn't know it was a friend's birthday last week and I felt like shit when I realized I spent a few hours with someone and didn't say a word. Too wrapped up in my own little drama. Sometimes people have to slap me with the obvious, because I'm too busy trying not to notice other's problems.

Going to my Facebook post the other night - I tend to attract unavailable people. I don't mean married or anything, but men who are unwilling or unable to emotionally commit. Ones who want to be friends, but don't want involvement. They flirt. Sometimes they flirt a lot. And I flirt back. 

They also come to me with their problems. They talk to me. Many of these are male friends. I have always had a lot of men friends, and I don't know why. I think it's because I'm blunt and most of the time I don't pretend to be something I'm not with them. Maybe its because I'm a geek at heart, and these guys are geeks too. To put it bluntly, I'm not attracted to most geeks, so I have nothing to lose by being me. I admire them for their minds and their sense of humor. They are fun to be around. I just don't want to date then. I've gone on in previous blogs about my search for the sexy geek. Still looking.

I love to hear people's problems and help them either find a solution, or feel better about a particular situation. Several friends have told me I should become a counselor and get paid for my good advice. I'm just not sure I could handle it all the time.

The point of this is, I am selfish. I'm thinking about my happiness and well being. Not to the point I ignore others, but I'm too old to let guilt rule me. And I love listening to others talk. I really do. I was joking about the whining. It helps me see the whole person. And and long as they are willing to listen to me also, there isn't a problem. I don't know what I'd do without my friends to listen to me. And if I can be that for someone else, it does make me feel good. 

Going back to the unavailable people, I had a situation years ago. In my work capacity I was around a group of men, all married. I became a mascot to the group in many ways. I especially hit it off with one of the guys. We would talk all the time. It got to the point where some of the wives though I was sleeping with this guy. Little did they know he talked to me constantly about his wife. How they wanted to start a family and buy a house. 

For some reason I seem to inspire that kind of response in men. I could tell you some stories that would raise your eyebrows, but I won't. I'm not doing anything wrong talking to them. I refuse to feel guilty. When someone's saying they want a divorce, I'm supportive. If they say they aren't going to get a divorce, I'm supportive. I may not be married, but with all the stories I've heard, and observations I've made, I have a pretty good idea how it works. And if I'm able, I want to be friends with the wife too, because otherwise it's too weird. 

If I can stay in my bubble, I can and will, but if my bubble is popped or invaded, I will gladly engage and do what I can to help. Even if it is just to listen for a little while. But if you can't pop my protective bubble that shields me from the world, don't take it personally. If you can't get inside my bubble, then chances are you aren't that close to me, at which point I really don't care.

Call me selfish...oh wait, I already called myself that. 

Thursday, May 23, 2013

What is it about instant messaging???

A far as I can tell, the world is slowly converting to communication via instant messaging and texts. It's no longer necessary to talk to someone face to face. All you have to do is type a message and hit send. 

Obviously the person who you send a message to knows it's from you. However, not having to look someone in the face when you text something kind of gives you a bravado you might not have if you are standing there looking someone in the eye. It makes you brave. I mean, my last boyfriend asked me out over IM on Facebook. How chicken is that? Maybe if he'd looked me in the eye when he asked, I would have seen what he was lacking, and avoided him all together.

I have had some men in my life who will say things over IM, but barely look me in the eye when they see me. Flirting electronically is the new way to feel people out. You can flirt, but you don't have to face the other person. You can say things you wouldn't normally say in person. An acquaintance of mine recently posted on Facebook that his greatest fear was rejection. Hell yes, most of us are afraid of rejection. So we flirt without having to face that person. But what are we afraid of - it not being reciprocated, or it actually being returned?

I flirt with men I would never date. It's just who I am. I tend to not flirt with the ones I really like. I remember a crush I had. I really big crush. He was so much younger than I am. I discreetly asked around to find out if he was single, then I drew him into conversations. I was afraid he would laugh at me because I was 10 years older. I didn't flirt at first, but as my crush grew, I finally threw caution to the wind. Eventually it did happen, but our problem was he was a terrible email communicator, and I'm a terrible face to face communicator. As a result, our lack of communication resulted in a meltdown.

How do you figure do what they mean? I'm still trying to figure out how the same person who says I can use their empty bed, can barely look me in the eye when he sees me. A mutual friend calls him the awkward flirt. He is fast and furious in the electronic realm, but stiff and uncomfortable sometimes in person (and if you recognize yourself in this description, it's true - but in the words of our mutual friend, we love you anyway).

I told someone recently, that I was pretty sure I was going to blush and stammer the next time I see them in person. An old friend I haven't seen in ages, we recently started talking again. I had forgotten how much we talked. In the old days we talked on the phone all the time. When we hung out, we talked. Now we IM. Sometimes we talk on the phone, but the opportunity doesn't present itself often. There is a long history there, and through IM we were able to clear the air about past events and come to some clarification. 

One night we were IM'ing, and we got heavy into a conversation and decided to call. The minute we got on the phone, we both practically froze. When we hung up, we went back to IM and continued our conversation for a few more hours. It doesn't say much about either of us that we can't talk face to face.

The point of this is, at least we are communicating is a mutually acceptable medium that is comfortable for all parties. I was able to say things and let myself be vulnerable without having to make eye contact. It can be truly liberating. 

I also recently had the opportunity to talk to someone who I know I hurt. To be able to finally tell them what I was feeling when I did what I did was something I needed to do. It laid several ghosts to rest. Through the safety of IM, we resolved our past, clearing the way for a friendship in the future. It was enlightening. And something I couldn't have done face to face. Probably a good thing I won't see them anytime soon.

And duh - why do think I blog? I can't say this stuff in person. I'm not that fearless.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's Day Without a Mother

It's Mother's Day again. A day, a weekend, a time that is pure torture for someone like me.

I rarely ever saw my mom on Mother's Day weekend the last few years of her life because I lived out of state, and would come home on memorial day weekend. I regret I didn't make that effort, but she never held it against me.

My mom was in no way perfect. She rarely cooked dinner for us when we were growing up. Breakfast was unheard of in our house, except on weekends when dad would cook. I learned how to cook any number of revolting things by the time I was in third grade. My sisters helped me because they got tired of making food for me. I don't blame them. I never went hungry or anything, I just fended for myself. After my sisters left for college, I would cook  dinner for mom, dad and I. I just wanted to eat. I truly grew up on junk food.

What mom was good at was advice. She had this knack for knowing what people were like. Instinct. She was almost always right. I could always talk to her about anything. She was my confidant, and she never me better than anyone. Everyone loved my mom. She was a fantastic person.

My best friend, Becky, came to visit once in college, and my mom cooked. Becky was overwhelmed because her mom didn't cook either. My mom became Becky's hero. Someone she could talk to and look up to. The other day, Becky asked for my opinion about something, and before I answered I tried to channel my mom. I asked myself what my mom would say to her. I hope I said the right thing. Becky had texted me two weeks ago saying she had run into someone who looked just like my mom in an elevator. The woman noticed Becky staring, and engaged her in conversation. It was a professor, and this woman encouraged Becky (who was on her way to a final), and gave her advice. Becky said she thought it was my mom looking down on her from heaven and watching over her. "Suzy, sent me encouragement just when I needed it," she said.

Many people talked to my mom, because she was that kind of person. Every decision I made, was discussed thoroughly with mom. Only once did I go against her advice, and I was wrong. 

My mom always knew things without being told. And I could read her, too. When I discovered my health problems, she tried so hard to comfort me. After Cole had grown out of it, she kept up the baby crib in her house. One day I told her she needed to take it down. She looked at me. I told her I wasn't going to give her any grandchildren, and it hurt me to see the crib. I told her I was sorry. Tears filled her eyes. I knew she kept it up with the hope I would be able to get pregnant and produce another grandchild. I just looked at her and said it's not going to happen. That was a defining moment for me. My dad and I took it apart the next week.

Mom helped me deal with my pain. She understood that baby showers are painful for me, although I could not have more happiness for my friends when they had children. She understood why I held back in relationships. The not being able to have children thing really messed with me. It still does. She understood that I when I saw a friend neglecting her child, I had to back away because there was nothing I could do, and it pained me too much to see that child screaming for his mother's attention, while she stood by and ignored him. Mom also knew I didn't come home for mother's day, because it depressed me too much.

Mother's Day is a day that reminds me of two things, one, that no one will ever wish me a happy mother's day, and two, that I will never be able to celebrate the day again with my wonderful, beautiful mother. 

I love you, momma! I miss you every day!!!

Saturday, May 11, 2013

One More Night


"One More Night" by Maroon 5 is a good song. I love it for the beat, the catchiness and the lyrics. 

I quoted it months ago after the cluster on NYE when I, with full knowledge, indulged with one more night with my ex. The evening was enlightening. I used the line I woke up feeling satisfied, but guilty as hell, the second I left his house. I knew I would never go back. 

Fast forward. Last night someone used the term on me. Paraphrased, they contemplated what wouldn't they give for one more night with me. It got me to thinking.

How many of us would take the chance for one more night with the one who got away? It wouldn't change anything. The past cannot be erased. Is it worth the risk to revisit a history that can't be a future? 

In the same conversation I was having, we talked about how the grass is always greener no matter what side you are on. I am no angel. I don't pretend to be. I have had some good times. I'd give up my good times for chance to have a family, but that wasn't my path. And there are those who chose the family path that look on my path with envy. It's a lot more complicated when you have baggage. 

The stops on my path sometimes have meaning, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes the lack of meaning causes the most harm. Self-destructive behavior has a play in those instances. It is rare that the stops can stay uncomplicated. 

Back to one more night, someone said they'd like one more chance with me, if even for a night. It's easy to blow that off and not take it seriously. What are the chances of it even happening? Not likely. And talk about a path screaming "complicated" at you. 

Actually surprises me someone would think about me at all, much less want to revisit a past with me. Now I understand it's complicated. I'm not sure if its good thing or a bad. I just know the thought of one more night is intriguing. 

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Crossroad

I'm updating this from my phone so please excuse any typos. 

How often in life do you question your actions? Wonder if you did the right thing, or the wrong thing? Over-Analyze a conversation?

I caught a glimpse of my past today. Parts which I have always questioned my actions. I know even now, I would have done it differently. I couldn't live with the guilt I felt at the time, so I took certain actions. I have always had regret. 

Years later it was revisited, and I was left with the impression it didn't matter as much as I thought it did. I left that brief encounter thinking boy had I done the right thing. 

Tonight, I heard the other side of story, first and second chapters. It has given me a lot to think about. 

You can analyze and pick apart everything you have said or done in your life, but you can't change a thing. And without someone else confirming or denying their reactions to your actions, you will just end up frustrated. 

I know in my heart, I did the only thing I could do at the time that would allow me to sleep at night. If doesn't take the regrets though. As I've said before, timing is everything. 

In the meantime, I will go to sleep knowing I made an impact. 

Monday, May 6, 2013

Song Nostalgia

We all have things in our pasts. Some are good, and if you've lived a little, some are pretty bad. Our pasts are what makes us who we are, for better or worse. 

The last few weeks, I have been reminiscing. Two weeks ago, I went back to my alma mater, good ole' SFA. I went to see and visit with my sorority sisters. Delta Zeta was a huge part of my life in college. And my best friend is my DZ Lil' Sis. A friendship that this year reached the 20 year mark. Those who I saw last weekend, I've known for longer than that. They were my sisters, my friends. The ones I talked to and hung out with in those years. The ones who would DD for me. I drank with them, I laughed, I danced, I cried and more. My lifetime friends, whether I see them or not. 

Going back to SFA started me thinking about the old days. I was more volatile then. I won't say I was wilder. I think I'm wilder now. I lived, laughed and loved in those days. I live and laugh nowadays, but not too much on the love front. I no longer have the total abandon I did then.

This past weekend, while a new experience, was spent with old friends. Nothing like being reminded of Monk Man while at breakfast. For those not in the know, it was an unfortunate film some friends of mine made when we were in high school. I starred as the damsel-in-detress. It was mildly embarrassing. And something that will surely come to haunt me as soon as someone finds the VHS tape of the film. 

I started thinking, as I was walking down memory lane. Isn't it funny how you can remember the tiniest details about some people who have passed through your life? A few months ago I wrote about someone who serenaded me. I mentioned it to him, and he didn't recall. All he said was he had nothing but the fondest memories of me. Yep. Me too.

On that note, comes other memories. There are certain songs that remind me of certain people. I literally can't hear them without thinking about those times. Some might be silly, like Two Princes. Always thing of Becky when I hear it. We were actually singing it together last week, because she heard it and thought of me. Others may be sad or bring back a rush of feeling. Every time I hear Whatcha Want by the Beastie Boys, I remember one of my DZ sisters. To protect her, I won't reveal who she is, or why it reminds me.

Going back to my serenade, I always wondered if he remembered. He didn't. So that brought me to thinking about it. Are the songs that are so significant to you, significant to the person they remind you of? Most of us will never know, but it doesn't really matter.

Hold on to those memories. If you are lucky enough to discover they rate a fond memory for the other person, cherish it. I was reminded today. It makes me a little sad, because I have a lot of regrets. Wishes that things could have been different. I would never take back that time though. It means the world. I will cherish the memory.