Monday, October 22, 2012

I guess you could call this a down period

Since I'm in the south, I might as well put it in a term that people think is fitting of my now home... "I'm fittin ta do what I need to do."

Which in case point means I'm done fighting.  I clearly cannot be who I want to be, so I'm just going to be.  If somewhere down the road the current wants to shape me into something that the rest of the world deems worthy of anything, I guess that's who I'll be.  But for right now, whatever.

I think now that the weather is cooler, I'm going to start walking.  Donna used to say that being alone out there walking helps clear the head.  We'll see.

I can't do this anymore.  I refuse to hurt whats left of my spirit anymore by fighting.

There is no more me left to fight.  There is no more gumption for my spirit to use to back itself up.

There's nothing left.

I was going to make a cake today.  I even bought a Rubbermaid cake saver so that we all could enjoy it.  I don't think I will be making that cake.  As a matter of fact I think I'll set some chicken breasts out to defrost. Baked chicken salad sounds good for dinner.  Maybe I'll grill it.  It's not too cold to use my grill.

I don't know.  I don't care.

I guess good morning to absolutely no one.

.....

Cracking...

The veneer of the smile I keep on my face is cracking.

Every time one of my friends has an anniversary or announces that they're getting married, i can feel it crack a little more.  I'm afraid that one day, it's going to break and fall away and people aren't going to like the sneer that's been hiding underneath.

Don't get me wrong, I am really really happy for my friends.  I am soo happy.

But I'm so jealous.  So jealous that when some announces that they're getting married or that they've been together another year, or even if they're having a baby, I can't breathe.  My lungs shrivels up and my heart stops and my body shuts down for a hot minute.  I want to run off and find an empty field and scream until all the breath that I know is there is gone.  I want to cry until I am as empty physically that I am emotionally.  And then I just want to lay there.  Lay there and wait for whatever.

But I a really am happy for everyone.  So happy.  So unbelievably happy.

So every time I have one of those cracks that everyone can see, people rush forward to tell me that I just have to be patient and wait.  God is going to send the man he's personally designed for me my way soon.  He's going to put him in my path and we're going to lock eyes and my happily ever after is going to finally begin.

Excuse me if I lose my cool and scream obscenities...

I am Christian.  I go to church, I listen to the messages that are preached, I help out and volunteer. I believe. I am a faithful follower.

At least I think I am.  There is no part of my heart that doesn't love God.  And while it should be full with just that and the love of my friends and family, it's so empty that if whats left of my faith in ordinary miracles screamed out, there'd be an echo for days.

When will it be my turn? I just want someone that thinks I'm worthy of his time and not a guy halfway around the world that is basically a stalker.

You know when I first moved here, my mom and I went to this place on Beatties Ford Rd. to get her tires done and the guy that changed the tires flirted his ass off with me and I gave him my phone number.  We chatted a few times, we texted and for maybe a week, I walked around on cloud nine.  I was approaching happy until I realized all he wanted was a booty call.  He suggested our first date be at his house.  He outright admitted that he wanted to be close to his bedroom.

This is the part where I would normally tilt my head to the side and ask, "Do I look like the kind of girl that would be up for a booty call?"

Except I can't say that.  I mean, I can but I can't really.

Last summer after being alone for yet another year I met a guy.  Yes I was piss drunk, but he and I had a conversation.  Or at least I thought it was a conversation.  Whatever it was, it worked on my dulled senses, I fell into bed and dammit I had a hell of a time.  And God help me I made myself available for more than one booty call.  I convinced myself that it was just sex.  That it would be okay, but then we texted everyday.  Most of the day and stupid me I started to let myself get feelings for him.  So imagine how badly I was crushed when I realized that he didn't think I was worth his daylight hours either.

Just like when I realized that no matter how I tired to make my marriage work, my husband still wanted out I realized that no matter what I was stupid enough to let myself feel for this guy was only one sided.  The air left, all sound stopped and I laid down and I cried.  Over him.  A guy that I didn't really know that well but sad to say is still never actually far from my thoughts.

The feeling is all too familiar.  I felt it ALL through high school.  I had crushes on guys and they ignored me.  Or at least they ignored me to my face.  I'm pretty sure they talked about me to their friends.  The sad, fat pathetic band geek that had a crush on the a list guy.  The guy that was the class president my years in high school, yeah I had a big crush on him.  I spent a whole year thinking that he had no clue I liked him.  But yay for him for being able to keep a secret long enough for me to feel really dumb. He signed my yearbook, "Thanks for all the cards."

He's getting married too.  He announced it last year.  Happy for him.

The guy I liked Senior year is probably engaged too.  I've lost track of the guys that I liked my freshman year and the guy that I had a crush on my sophomore year can go to hell in a wicker basket wearing gasoline boxers and hold a box of lit matches.

The guy I liked freshman year of college probably has no clue that had he but beckoned I would have followed him to the ends of the earth.  He fell into the friend category and yanked me into that circle with him and then there was Randy.  Say what you want, it was a miserable marriage in the last few years but when we weren't fighting, it was good.  Sometimes it was good.

I keep trying to have faith and proclaim that this year at midnight on New Years, I'm going to have someone to kiss.  Someone that's not going to give me a pity kiss.  But then another year passes and I have no one.  And while everyone gets to kiss their special someone at midnight, I get to paste on my phony smile and cry on the inside.

So another year is coming to a close.  And the prospects for finding someone at once again slim.  So slim that I think this New Years, I'm not even going to bother.  I'm going to just sit home and have a drink, or maybe take a couple sleeping pills and wake up to a new probably even lonelier year.

I think it's time to give up.  To face the fact that when my marriage failed, I lost my chance at a maybe happiness.  That was the one chance that I was given and that's it.  I'm always going to be the bridesmaid, I'm never again going to be the bride.  Or the girlfriend.  I'm the friend.  I'm the one that gets to smile and hug and say, I'm so happy for you and any other thing I can think of to keep your day happy.

It's time.  I'm done.

The fat sad band geek is done.

..........