It happened so quickly, so fiercely, it raced through me as though a wildfire had been set ablaze in my head, in my heart.
And the most startling part to me – I didn’t think it would ever happen.
Over the last few years, I’d become used to my solitude, accustomed to my “singleness”.
After everything, I had resigned myself to the idea of living the rest of my life alone.
And, frankly, I was ready to go, if my time came soon.
Not suicidal, never that, but – at peace with my mortality, and my dying alone, never feeling another’s touch on my heart again.
Don’t pity me.
I didn’t.
That’s the point.
I wasn’t sad, or happy, about it. It just – was.
But now – oh gods, now.
Now, there’s him.
Lightning struck.
And, it all happened because of a game.
And, I laugh.
I giggle.
And my heart is full, to overflowing.
He’s smart, and fucking hilarious, and sweet, and kind, and romantic, and has a similar sense of irreverence, of dark humor, that is borne from past tragedies, as I do.
We say that we’re taking it slow.
We’re both liars and truthful.
Because, while we’ve both admitted we love each other, and want to be together, there are extenuating circumstances that must be resolved before we can geographically meet.
Nothing questionable or bad, just time-consuming & patience-testing.
So, we wait, we work toward the goal of being in the same physical space at the same time, and, in the meantime…
I’ve been struggling with managing, juggling, and fulfilling other people’s expectations of my time, lately.
I used to game with just my best friend- he’d play his game, I’d play mine, & we communicated thru the phone, no headsets for us then. It was fine, for years.
Then, we started playing MMOs, and my friend list, well, kind of exploded. I have some really dear friends that I’ve met gaming, & a couple, I even consider Chosen Family now.
I even met someone online, that I’ve just started a romantic relationship with. *cue insane blush & grin*
Problem is – me. I have a pattern of being the trustworthy, safe space friend, that a lot of them come to with their troubles. I’m older than most of them, so I get tagged as the “older sister, feral aunt, gnarly gamer grandma”, & because I spend most evenings online, as my relaxation, I’m there, and get pulled in multiple directions.
Now, while I DO love my friends… And I understand that they have troubles –
So. Do. I.
There’s a LOT going on in my real life, outside of gaming, that’s got me stressed, and I have to prioritize some of that over all else.
Hey, the job pays the bills that allow me to get online in the first place.
So, I give grace, when someone’s having a bad day, and snipes about me running off to hang out with my new relationship partner.
I give grace when someone has a mental illness that causes them to be a little ornery in chat.
I give grace, when someone takes medication that makes them say things in chat that they probably wouldn’t say, if not impaired…
But – where’s my grace?
When I’ve told them that I’m in burnout?
When I’ve told them I need some quiet?
Or that I want to solo chat with my new love, because it’s a brand new, fragile because it’s an infant, relationship?
I need some fucking grace.
Or I’ll bounce.
And that’ll hurt a lot more feelings than they think.
I spent a lot of time thinking about this, yesterday, on my drive to & from my folks’ house.
I am a tangle of contradictions.
Most people know one side only, as I keep its opposite pretty well hidden from view.
And nearly all the people who know me IRL, know the jokester, who mixes in with the caring, nurturing part of me. (If I care about you, I care enough to joke with you/about you)
Something I don’t say often, though, is that – once I love someone, it’s forever. No matter how much this can hurt ME in the end. And I’m not just talking about being in love with someone, I’m also talking about Chosen Family love. And there’s a few of those out there.
Beloved Nephew is first & foremost of the Chosen. He is now, and has been for years, my best friend. There could never be anything intimate between us, because we’re family to each other, but he knows me better than anyone else alive.
And he’s seen both sides of my personality.
There are also kids, well, they’re not kids anymore, because they’re godsbedamned grownups now, (yes, I’m feeling the age, here). Kids my children brought home with them, who needed an adult at the time to tell them that they were going to be ok. That they were enough, that they could do this thing called life. I don’t get to see them, or talk to them anymore, because they’ve moved on & past needing me, but I still consider them Chosen Family.
And yes, it stings a little sometimes when I think that, once I wasn’t needed to prop them up, I was forgotten. But that’s what happens. And I don’t want anyone to feel any kind of obligation to me because I was kind to them. That’s selfish. I’m just glad they’ve grown, and hopefully gotten themselves to a good place.
And, yes, there are people whom I’ve been involved with in the past, exes. Who doesn’t have those?
And yes, some of them I love.
Still.
To this day.
NOT to say that I’d go back to them, because most I wouldn’t. There was a reason behind the split, and it was needed. I’m healthier, emotionally, mentally, without them in my life.
There’s a couple that I would, but it probably wouldn’t be good for me, so I keep my damn mouth shut. Go me. (sarcastic eye roll)
BUT.
Not one of them can say they’ve truly seen my other side.
The dark coldness that I keep for only myself.
Y’all have no idea.
There is a detachment that happens when my switch gets flipped. And I can honestly say I, myself, have only seen it truly come out a couple of times. Always in the most dire of situations, and ALWAYS as a protective measure, either for myself, or for a loved one.
Example – cutting my male sibling out of my life.
I’m not going to retell the story, just know that I did it to protect myself from further emotional harm.
The point here, is, that I was able to do it. With no guilt, no remorse, and no second thoughts.
And no one has ever, nor will they ever, talk me out of it. Familial guilt gets nothing.
Talk of blood, of dna, gets nowhere.
After all, his blood, his dna didn’t stop him from hurting me in the first place, now, did it?
Anywho, before I get completely derailed off onto a rant, this is only one example.
But it’s an effective one.
The level of darkness to which I can descend, should I deem it necessary to the situation, is one which most would never seek, and I’m sure, they would never suspect me of reaching it.
But a part of me lives there.
And only the Nephew has seen it, or heard it in my voice.
Probably because he recognizes a kindred spirit when he meets one.
But, I digress.
My tangled dichotomy is pretty balanced, ironically enough.
Because as deep as my darkness goes, that is how far my love extends. And vice versa.
My Youngerdaughter came home, as Saturday was her 25th birthday, & she wanted to see me & spend her birthday here before she & her boyfriend moved to Wisconsin next week.
Yeah, Youngerdaughter is finally spreading her wings towards new skies. Her boyfriend is going to be going to school there, & she’s been wanting to experience other places for a while now, before she settles down to family-life.
I was also lucky enough to have my eldest grandson, Schnicklefritz, here for the weekend!
He’s my snuggler, my buddy. And one of his big wishes for the summer was to spend time at my house, so YAY!
Yesterday was a FULL HOUSE.
My parents, Youngerdaughter & her BF, OnlySon & his doggo, & Schnickelfritz.
We had fried tacos & Texas chocolate cake for YD’s birthday dinner celebration, & everyone had a good time.
Except, my Mom dropped a family news bomb on me, but I’ll get to that.
Today…was difficult.
Today was all goodbyes.
Youngerdaughter & her BF left early this morning, and the hugs were choking and emotional, but I didn’t actually cry. Close…but no tears hit the ground.
Then this afternoon I had to drive Schnicklefritz back to his dad’s 75 miles away.
He didn’t want to go.
He misses his mom, his brother, his sister, his step-dad. He didn’t want to leave me.
His chin wobbled, and his eyes fogged up.
But Gramma’s are no-nonsense kind of chicks, you know, so I calmed him down & we got him home.
The drive home wasn’t so easy, alone.
Everybody was gone.
Yeah, yeah, I live alone.
I should be used to it, right?
Goodbyes suck.
And the family news bomb?
As I was making my daughter’s birthday cake, my mother told me that, not only is my uncle in hospice care with cancer, which I knew…
But so is his son, now.
My cousin who is 31 years old has only an expected couple of months to live.
And I won’t be able to go see them.
I can’t afford it.
I haven’t seen these family members in years.
Guilt, extreme grief, depression.
It’s at times like this, that I wish, when I come home, that there was someone here…
Someone who would put their arms around me, hug me, and let me know that I’m not always alone.
I know that this trial is somehow necessary, that in order to grow, I must burn away that which has become burdensome. That I’ve come to another crossroads in my life, & I have to fight, to strive, to prove to myself that I am ready for the next step, whatever that may be.
But, Goddess, the fires are intense.
I’ve cut ties with someone I was speaking to. He wasn’t going to live up to his words, anyway. And, my heart was elsewhere.
It’s been tied up for years in someone else’s ribbons, & I don’t think it’ll ever change.
I’m probably destined to spend my life alone, because I gave my heart away to someone who will never show up to fully claim it.
But, if that’s the way it is, I’ll live with it.
My brother tried to make small talk through text about my birthday, as well. *sigh*
After years of issues between us, I’m not going to just forgive and forget everything he’s said & done. I’m not a “sweep it under the rug” kind of woman.
He wounded me deeply, and cannot admit his culpability.
So, I finally said as much back in a text, and – lol and behold – *crickets* since then.
If you cannot admit your responsibility for your actions, if you cannot admit your own wrongdoing towards another person, and apologize, sincerely and wholeheartedly for hurting them, then obviously, you don’t believe you ever did anything wrong.
Update – I just received a text that says “I have no idea what you’re talking about”.
My point exactly.
I’m done.
Convenient how they “forget” the words they use to wound others with.
But I will never forget how he said his “little sister died years ago”.
He’s right.
He killed her.
I’m not that little girl he once knew.
But then, he never bothered to get to know the grown-up woman.
Whatever.
I don’t have time for him.
I’ve got embers in my eyes, and smoke curling around my hands.
My life has followed a steady, predictable pattern since my divorce.
I meet someone, we talk, they seem great, they seem to really like me… A couple have even said they loved me. We’re sailing along at 30,000 feet, gliding on top of the clouds in clear blue skies, smiling and enjoying the ride.
And then – something happens.
Either they suddenly decide to leap from the cabin, yanking the ripcord on their parachute as soon as they clear the emergency exit, like D.B. Cooper, vanishing into myth, or
They suddenly have to change flights for “business”, and can never be bothered to make their way back to me, because I’m just not in “first class”, never minding that I spent my last dime on our tickets, or
the engines stall, the plane falls from the sky, and lands in ice-cold waters, all hands lost at sea, with me washing ashore on some deserted island, no one else in sight.
And once I’ve built my raft, and made my slow and weary way back to civilization… I find out they got picked up by some luxury cruiser 5 minutes after the crash, have been drinking margaritas & have forgotten I ever existed.
Something inside of me is feeling as though maybe I’m not meant to find love again.
That maybe I’m meant to spend the rest of my life flying solo.
Maybe my pattern is the “missing man” formation… Only the one missing… is me – and everyone else flies on without me.
I haven’t written here about 💙 lately, but he and I are still talking.
He says he loves me, wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and is trying to finish his business overseas as quickly as possible so he can come see me.
Do I trust this?
No, of course I don’t.
After everything I went through with E, I’m holding my own if I can trust the mailman to get the right mail in the correct box. (Which is a debatable question, lately, but I digress)
There are only two men in ny life that I trust, anymore. One is my father; the other, my nephew.
The rest….well, their words are taken with a humongous dose of salt and skepticism.
Why?
Because they don’t follow through on their word. Or they send out such weird signals, I have no clue what they want, anymore, so I don’t even bothering trying to interpret, but, rather just continue with my skepticism & stay in my own lane.
As for those who do evince some kind of obvious interest, I assume it’s of the “use ’em and lose ’em” kind.
Men always leave. So why bother, anymore?
As far as 💙 is concerned?
I’ll believe that when I see it.
Whatever, my trust just doesn’t rise for words, anymore.
You’ve got to back it up with actions.
As I tell my nephew all the time “I ain’t got time for this, I’ve got shit to do”.
I’m not going to wait around for someone to get his shit together & ponder on whether he wants to actually mean the words he spouts so easily.
If you love someone, you say it – AND you back it up by how you act.
You have feelings for me? Prove it, or I’ll be on my way.
Pretty poison lurks, hidden on my phone, light gleaming through its toxic, yet enticing depths.
It makes me sick to my stomach to think about all the pain I went through because of E…and yet…
There is a subtle allure in the intentness of his purpose.
I’ve forgotten how it feels to be wanted so desperately.
And still, I sit here, crying, knowing that if I were to say even one word, I would unravel all the work I’ve done to repair the damage he caused me.
I can’t go back.
And yet, like an addict…I yearn for that feeling again.
I wish he would just go, leave me alone & not return, so I could stop remembering and missing how he made me feel at one time. Because he also tore me apart, and left me to deal with the afternoon, alone.
Always alone.
I just want this part of the nightmare to end… I’m so tired of being alone.
I discovered tonight that “spam” texts don’t actually disappear…they just get tucked away…but they’re still on the damn phone, daring me to read them.
Daring me to drink that pretty poison, and be damned…
Brea's Air 