moving
I am moving this blog elsewhere.
For those who care and would like to continue to read it, you already know how to reach me.
I am moving this blog elsewhere.
For those who care and would like to continue to read it, you already know how to reach me.
I never liked airing my dirty laundry to my friends. I don’t like people feeling sorry for me or think of my situation as “it will get better, don’t worry”.
I can’t even remember exactly when the break up happened. 2 weeks ago, maybe 3? I am sure she knows. I remember the stinging words that came out of her mouth as we drove home. I remember her tone, her anger … the words “I don’t want to be with you”. I remember coming home with tears strolling down my face, my mascara delicately drawing nothings on my cheeks, I remember her sitting on the couch, turning the television on and not a tear was shed. This break-up was boiling for quite some time – I suppose. No emotions were shown until I sat down next to her – begging. Angry words, angry…very angry things came out. I sat, sobbing – begging.
That afternoon, my sister was to arrive and stay with us for the night. We had planned a dinner and a movie date to celebrate her 31st birthday. Yes – that’s right. It was the 12th. 5 days prior, I celebrated my 27th birthday.
I must have begged for an hour or so. I said sorry countless times, I tried to hold her hand – she said she would call the police if I touched her. It was ugly.
I left her alone. I left the apartment to pick up my sister. The drive home was a blur. I remember thinking, what if…I had gotten into an accident…what if. It wouldn’t change a thing – it was too late.
I dried my tears, applied my mascara and wore my aviators. I did not want my sister to see me this way. Knowing her, if she had known she wouldn’t have stayed with us because the situation would have made her uncomfortable. It would make anyone uneasy.
I said nothing.
We arrived at the apartment and pretended things were okay. Dinner and a movie it was. We watched Sex and the City – it was awkward on my end. Carrie wanted space, Big wanted space… She wanted her alone time.
There are two people to blame for the break-up. But to her, the blame is on me. I understand. I was harsh, hurtful (I never cheated – but I’ve said some pretty awful things), I have been needy countless times. She wanted space, I wanted nothing more than to be with her “all” the time. I wanted to do things with her…but she wanted her “alone” time, do things and go places alone. I am to blame. I am okay with that. I’ve tried to give her what she wanted but it wasn’t enough.
So far, the break-up has its ups and downs. We still live together. We sleep in the same bed, I love yous are exchanged, we do things together – like couples until she remembers….shit, we are not together. Then it’s back to me wondering what went wrong.
So this morning we went back to June 12th.
It is what it is. There…you have my story.
Today I was told by the chairman of my company that they are going to have to sell the magazine because of the million of dollars we've lost over the past two years.
This came in as a shock - This week we've won many awards for our outstanding journalism skills. A week prior, we were all celebrating with champagne in both hands because we doubled our advertising pages this quarter. Today, we are down under.
I have been in this company for a few years now. I have met one of my best friends there - my first boss - my mentor. He was the man i looked up to at work, the man I wanted to be one day, the man i called "partner in crime". We were two peas in a pod. Though our age difference was obvious to us and to many, it was always "age ain't nothin' but a number". I know at the end of August, I will notbe venting in his office anymore instead i will probably have to say goodbye to our routine.
Everyone thought I would be the next "him". Everyone thought I'd be at this company for a very long time. Unlike 90% of the employees there, I loved working there - there were occasions where I would scream and pull my hair but honestly, I loved it. I love the brand, I love what the company was, the purpose, the history and the people.
My journey may end in August at this publishing place but my love will remain the same. Parting ways may be the best thing for me right now...who knows.
I may go back to Haiti for a little while.
Take photos
be a nomad
and enjoy life.
I’ve realized you can have an intimate relationship with someone you've never touched. Souls can find a home with a person that you only share words with, that you know you'll never share a physical space with, that you know this life isn't to be, it's only going to be those words, the sense of safety, that knowledge they are there for you in that deepest meaning of the words safe and home. Kisses are magic, and what can make or break a relationship. They are that intimate bit of self-sharing we hope for. They are special, beyond sex. It’s that push beyond into the private boundary, the area we hold sacred. We hand over kisses, playful, passion-filled, the fast peck on the cheek...but the ones on the mouth, they are a gift. They do inspire the belief that love is possible... the dream, the hope. Sex... is something handed out in an easier way by many. The fast connection, the hope of becoming one with a person, if only for a short time… The need to be cherished, if for a short time, the hope it will let you click and build on the physical to an emotional level. I know couples who, met, slept together, and are still locked in their couple Dom years later. It can work, it appears so. A kiss gives us the belief we can be appreciated, beloved... sex adds the senses to the flavor of that belief.Almost like the fairy tales, all it took was that gentle kiss on the lips to fall madly in love and live happily ever after.
Fairy tales do come true, right?
There is a thing about relationships. It isn't just about 1 person, or two....It involves the world as a whole. The way we react behind close doors and the way we react to the world is completely and sometimes painfully false. I've experience quite a few things...some I will not yet reveal on this - as this is quite obvious who the writer is.
My current relationship is very different from what i have had in the past. Let's examine.
1- she is definitely the girl I would like to spend the rest of my life with, grow old, get wrinkly skin together, lose our teeth and eat puree food and get all excited on bingo nights at our local church. yes- she is that girl.
2- She is older, more mature. There is a huge gap between us. She has experienced things that i have not yet experienced- a) she had many relationships, some were good, some bad and some awfully forgetful. b) she had a child. c) she traveled and lived abroad (something I want to do, but she doesn't anymore)
3- She knows the "me", she understands, cares, and love with all her heart.
Now, with maturity and age, we argue about things that i have not experienced, learned or understand while she has already. There isn't a common ground there. but hey...it is bound to happen. it happens, we argue and we move on.
Also she has a child. he is an independent and a great young man (yes- young marine). But see, she has already experienced having a child and she has always said, she has no interest in caring for anothing child. she has experienced, lived and knew -no more kids. This is where I am a little on the edge here. I've always wanted children. I've always wanted a mini me, a repleca of two souls merging and creating an amazing little figure. I knew from the begining that it was something that I would have to weave into our life, but lately, she has made a point - a very disturbing point: no kids or I leave
I know deep down, her saying the two possibly worst words in my book was a simple deffense mechanism. I know she doesn't want to leave me. She has said it many times - She doesn't want me to put my wants (babies) on a shelf to accumulate dust. Instead, she would want me to find someone who is equally on the same page as I. My answer you may ask? well...I told her, fine. no kids. lets live a boring life with no kids, no pta meetings, no soccer games, no baking cupcakes at midnight because you forgot it was your turn to bring in cupcakes. 1st day in jr high when they tell you, "i hate you", or the high school days when all they think about is sex and scoring - not on the SATs or the 1st day you drop them off at a university that's 5hrs aways and wish them well but really they could care less or when they get married, have children and you see your seed multiplying - the beauty of life.
Nope. none of that.
It is a little sad.
very.
But....I do love her.
I am sending smoke signals, pigeons, fedex, DHL ....someone get me this pretty little lady.
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I don’t know what it is about the end of winter. At first I had to deal with the explosion of ass—all of my friends have gotten some booty on a regular basis or, my friends in serious relationships, have taken the next step in adulthood and made a commitment with their current significant other. As we all know how fickle young love can be, usually these commitments last as long as the time between herpes outbreaks or just until someone becomes emotionally stable enough to face the world on their own. When we hear our friends talk obsessively about their new love we smile, nod and wait for it to pass. And it usually does. Someone fucks up, misrepresents themselves and their emotional attachment and boom, in one messy break up scene, tears shed on shoulders and the relationship ceases to exist. Over in a split second.
However, I’ve noticed a curious thing as I am getting older. When people reach their mid to late 20’s, these breakups are becoming less common and more and more I see myself congratulating my friends on their one year anniversaries and inviting their boy/girlfriend by default on our nights out together. Just as I am getting used to the idea that my friends are in stable long term relationships, the engagement period quickly befalls upon me, and once again I’m knocked out of my comfort zone. No longer are these relationships hanging on a loose thread of “emotional intimacy” and “common interests” but now there is a $5-15K ring on the table as collateral; ensuring both parties that if the other person fucks up that there will be consequences. It is no longer the promise ring from Macy’s, but a Tiffany’s engagement diamond or Jared.
People are going to think mighty hard before they do something very stupid. The ring symbolizes a lot. Even for those who cannot get married (us gay folks) it means unity, love – unconditionally. But it is so hard to actually think about the divorce rate and how much a diamond is really worth.
But that doesn’t stop us from buying into the dream that the ring symbolizes, nor does it stop us for being happy for our friends who do get engaged. Because Barbie never had to fight Ken for the dream house with the aid of a divorce lawyer. And as long as we believe in the Barbie fantasy, we also believe that we are part of the 40% whose marriages will be forever. Because if we didn’t believe, then what would be the point in being excited for our friends’ engagements and hoping for that one great love ourselves? |
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Whenever there is a significant life change afoot, every nerve cell in your body is attuned to its every nuance. You can’t help but notice things like a move from one state to another, or a career change or perhaps a change in your love life. We know inherently that these events will impact us and we feel the ripple effects of them in obvious ways, good or bad. Because we expect them, if nothing else.
The changes that thrill me, though, are the small, subtle ones. The ones you embark on purposefully, but don’t see the fruits of with the urgency of instant gratification. The ones that evolve almost imperceptibly over a period of time, until all at once you notice them and wonder, “hey…when did that happen?”
A few of those revelatory moments hit home with me these past few weeks, and I think I like what I am seeing and what I feel. It’s very hard to articulate, but I sense things shifting in undeniable ways and gaining the strength of crystalline clarity with every passing day.
Change is freeing if you let it be. If it’s the right kind of change of course. An acceptance, a state of mind, a moving forward. Tiny steps adding up to a journey you didn’t realize with the full attention of your consciousness that you were on, but leading somewhere wonderful, and energizing and captivating, and maybe – just maybe – somewhere gratifying, all the same.
These past weeks, unexpectedly, I was given a brief unobstructed view of the path laid out in front of me. The effect of ongoing effort; changes, starting to culminate in exciting new beginnings.
**This was written in 2007 - pre cycling years**
In an effort to become hott sexy trophy wife and to lose the few pounds that I put on over the let me drink away my post-holiday ( I know it’s Feb. already) blues/forget the inventory that I took of my empty life, I made a promise to myself that I would go to the gym this morning since I drank dark beer like a wahoo and smoked a half of pack of ciggs on Monday. I’ve been slacking off and work out right after work but with the happy hours I am forced to postponed my workouts. Not a good idea to go to a spinning class.Now let me explain my history with excersise classes. I joined a gym; everyone is fit, beautiful and coordinated. I tried taking a karate class a few weeks ago, it was an intermediate class and everyone was like the Karate kid, and I am not talking part I. So I was the geek in the corner, who the instructor decides to try to encourage me by telling me how great I am doing, while I am getting all the moves wrong and doing everything backwards (like using my left foot instead of the right). So I think to myself, spinning...a stationary bike, I'll sit in the back of the class and pedal...not too hard, right? First lets begin with what I am wearing, everyone in the class is wearing spandex bike shorts with the padded asses, carrying expensive water bottles (what happened to Poland Springs?), and are incredibly fit. Then there is me...in a tiny tank and shorts – I look like I’ve done it before. The instructor begins; by the way, she is one hell of a beauty and during the warm up I am weezing from the ciggs and begin sweating profously...emitting the stench of alcohol as I am sweating off my hangover. Nobody else is breaking a sweat, and here it is we begin to stretch...as in we haven't even gotten to the actual excersise yet. The instructor has us peddling hands free while we are stretching our upper body. I begin to slide off the seat...oh no, I mean "saddle". Did you know that there is Spinning Lingo? I hold onto the handle bars for dear life since I can't balance my fat ass on the seat. And I am sweating even more profously, emitting more of the alcohol stench into the air... so here it is, me holding onto the handle bars for dear life, trying to balance my fat ass on the saddle, wheezing, sweating profously, reeking of alcohol. Don't think I am going to meet my future mate there looking like I did.I am going back for the 6am class tomorrow. If it doesn’t work out. I’ll just go back to my good ole lifting.
I dominate and I make the rules.
Ce matin, au réveil, ciel gris blanc et petite pluie froide. Après-midi plus clémente.
Jour après jour noter le temps qu'il fait à défaut de le créer. Un des plus vieux rêves de l'homme : faire la pluie et le beau temps.
L'année 2010 débarque avec sa cohorte d'agendas, de bonnes résolutions, de cartes de voeux, d'horoscopes, de plans et de projets...
Pour beaucoup la certitude que tout commence (nouvel an / nouvelle vie) alors que tout ne tardera pas de recommencer...
Ainsi, je me souviens de mes années collège et lycée, de mes cahiers de texte alors très bien tenus de septembre à novembre - horaires parfaitement calligraphiés, emplois du temps aux matières encadrées et surlignées, etc - pour ensuite renouer avec leurs vieilles habitudes en se métamorphosant, par exemple, en recueil de batailles navales et de morpions, quand ce n'était pas en journal intime - que de mots d'amour et de déclarations de guerre y aurais-je consigné !
Bon, allez, cédons à la tradition tout de même : je vous souhaite du fond du coeur une belle, bonne et heureuse année 2010 ! Qu'elle soit pour vous synonyme de bonheur et de plaisir, de sérénité et de volupté !
My musings
