anyone that knows me know me as a typical a-type, verbose, extroverted, outspoken gal. someone that truly knows me understands that I speak volumes when I don’t speak (or tumble, or blog, or gchat etc.) at all…
Originally wanted to post this, a couple of months ago. and while I didn’t get the chance to finish or the time alone to post..it still play on my mind. Especially as the few bloggers I was specifically thinking about are still on their journeys, in various stages, whether it be in love, discovering a new relationship, living day to day in the knowledge that they remain in love with someone that is paralyzed from reciprocating, or finally living freely in an authentic way for her and her girls…there are so many of you out there. The journey doesn’t end does it? It just changes…
***without further adieu***
Originally, the break was meant to be temporary, very temporary. It started with not blogging much but keeping up with all of you by reading and commenting here and there. As I tried to keep up with those of you that I follow religiously, I noticed a recurring theme amongst many of us around being true to oneself, love and what does loving oneself look like, what does love look like when it’s someone that loves you and how do our own issues and expectations act as a filter in any of our relationships. Romantic, platonic, familial, and more importantly with ourselves.
So..last week, a few of us started a dialogue about social media, time, and compartmentalization (oh my!) due to the pithy posting of another blogger who is currently struggling with the time and life situations that keeps them separated from their love more often than not. As a result, said blogger will at times lurk, connect and “check-in” via various social media platforms available today. But specifically Instagram, Twitter and sometimes SnapChat. In doing so, they open themselves up to “seeing” or reading items in which they can find themselves regretting it, especially if it may depict something they really didn’t want to know.
For most reading this specific post, you’ll understand what I mean when I say “Careful what you wish for. Then again, Batman needs Catwoman in his life. More than he may be willing o admit.” That is all…
We awoke as usual and yet something seemed off and yet I couldn’t quite place what it was. I lay in bed, enjoying the morning sounds of our house as the sun rose, the deep breathing of our four-legged kiddos and the snoring of our youngest human as he had come into our room in the middle of night with his sleeping bag and made himself comfortable on the floor near the fan. Dh was struggling to shake off the sleepiness of a restful, deep sleep. Sounds that permeate life if you will. Huh, just another day…until I realized it isn’t. Wasn’t.
Today is the last day my oldest woke up in our home, until she returns in November. Where did the last 18-years and 3.5 months go!? Tomorrow we will wake up across the country, pick-up our rental car and make our way to the college she ultimately chose this past spring. The last day she woke up in the only home she’s ever known…I’ve been so busy between work, life, organizing everything required to move a young adult across the country for school let alone the additional work of finding specialists to continue her treatment program that she’s been working through these last 2.5-years that I didn’t begin to realize the day was here until, well, today.
It’s a surreal feeling, that’s for sure, one that I can’t fully articulate because I’m still in full on program manager mode but in the silent moments, when I allow myself a breathe or two, thoughts begin to flood my core of her, past, present and immediate future. Like every parent, yes I’m proud of her and hope she is as thoughtful and kind in the future as she has been up until now. We also know that the real world is the real world and how one copes, adapts and reacts is really untested until that defining moment occurs. In light of all that she’s had to work through in the last few years and continues to work through, my hope for her is that she loves with all of her heart, dreams with freedom, laughs and cries when she wants to, and finds happiness with who she is in her own skin and from there, she finds her tribe, what sustains her in whatever career choice she makes because it’s her choice, not anyone else’s.
The sheer emotions of this significant event hasn’t hit me yet. Yet being the operative word. As I know that when I wake up next week, in our home and she isn’t there, I’ll grieve, if even for a moment, that the sounds of the morning that anchored me in my house won’t ever be the same.
It was a stretch of time in which we weren’t communicating much at all. Life and our real-life obligations being the priorities that they need to be. Yet, I missed the sound of his voice, the daily conversations whether irl or virtually. It’s as if he knows me because one day, there was a voicemail…
One that left me giggling and blushing in my office. It was that mischievous voice, asking me if I’d heard of an Australian kiss and would I like one? *sigh* if he only knew…
Which then made me recall the first time I heard this song, by none other than the famous local band, Heart, when I was in middle school. Whilst my classmates were all a twitter about their current crushes and how they were the one (because we all know at 13) I remember thinking there is no such thing. No such as thing as the one, let alone at 13 but a Magic Man? Ha!. It is a belief I held to my core for another thirty-four years. I was wrong.
For someone that is paid to speak and present and blah blah blah…I’m feeling out of sorts today. For the first time in a very long time I wrote a long missive, spilling thoughts that are tumbling about, emotions and feelings that have me on the edge, revealing insecurities, longing and a desire to hear assurances. Where is this coming from? Is it the convergence of everything? Is it the disconnection that feels like a new normal and unsurmountable? I don’t know. But for the first time in a long time I’ve written one of those missives. The one in which it’s so raw and real that it frightens you to reread it. And so it sits, unsent, in the drafts folder.
I so need a break. from my everyday life and all that’s swirling about. reading Lady M and Ms A’s vacation posts makes me wistful. So what do you say ladies? I venture eastward and we have a weekend in the city? LOL
working late and the local classic station seems to be reading my mood(s) and pulling at memories…
Admittedly when I started posting items from my drafts folder a couple of weeks ago, I thought life was slowing down a bit. at home, in life and at work. silly, silly, IsMe. Unexpected changes at work has left me feeling as if I’ve jumped from the hamster wheel to the full on Tilt-O-Whirl of old. It’s actually all good just so much convergence at once. So many more posts started and sitting in the weeds of the drafts folder. But, while I haven’t had the time to engage or post, I have tried to lurk about and read those of you I follow at least once a week. Blog bingeing instead of Netflix bingeing is more my jam these days. Even if I’m not commenting, I am trying to stay as current as possible.
As many of you know, I consider Lady M, aka known as Madeline, a terrific writer, painfully honest, slightly crazy and courageously complicated. And I follow her posts religiously for many of the reasons stated above but also because we are very similar in many ways, and not in a lot of others. When she posts of her confusion, her hurt, her heart and her wants it’s as if she is speaking a language only some of us understand. The most recent posts of the last two weeks in particular, have me wanting to ruminate and reach out, if only I had the time. She’s been asking a lot of questions in her posts-writing out loud if you will- no judgment people, she’s been contemplating love, lust, desire, priorities and what is assumed, what is deserved and what is real. The challenge to all of those of course is it is indeed complicated.
I don’t have a lot of time right now, sneaking this in between interviews, but I wanted to share the words of my favorite, @beautflstranger from Tumblr. Because I believe that the relationship M has with Bobby is multi-layered but one that is indeed mired in a friendship. and sometimes, what you seek is in that friendship more than you know. and you have to nurture that, with no expectations of anything in return. and that, is when you find the answers you seek. when you least expect it. M, I promise when I have some alone time I will finish that email to you. I will. It’s important you get the context to why I write as I do. My end game isn’t much different, just within the parameters of what he and I have available to us. No, it isn’t easy, and yes, I made many mistakes with my emotions and insecurities early on. What I realized is that I am who I am. I am expressive even without speaking and while I didn’t verbalize my feelings, it was readily apparent in my actions and in my being completely vulnerable in a way that I’ve never been before. Eyes wide open and yes, I had to get to a space where I had to decide whether or not the rare moments together, the not being a priority, facing insecurities alone outweighs where I felt at “home”, the most me I’ve ever been, loved, accepted and visible. It’s still not easy. I don’t know when we’ll have a moment again. My heart aches, especially when we don’t connect much due to the current state of life, and yet, to my core, I know that I love someone in a way I didn’t know possible. Even if I don’t have a moment with him ever again. And that’s a gift. The fact of the matter is I have been in love with him far longer than he has ever expressed any emotions for me other than those Bobby has expressed for you. And, truth be told, I am sure I will love him even longer. {{hugs}}
is me is really me 