Irrepreble Damage: Getting to Acceptance

Daniel and I are once again in a place where we aren't communicating. For reasons that are once again a mystery to me. It's 2:00am and I'm just sitting here thinking, this has to be done. I've been watching a particular TV show on repeat for the last week and there are a couple of episodes that speak to death of a spouse and grieving a divorce and issues with infidelity... And I sit here and I reflect on these women's comments who have already crossed through to the other side. And I think about the lies Daniel told me when we were together. The push-pull he put me through. The hesitancy in committing. The instantaneous rebound after we took our break. The other fling. The things I have suspected that have gone on since. His inability to be consistent with contact, friendship, communication- pains me in ways... I can't even... And it's still ongoing. He talks about carrying guilt about how he treated me last fall but he's still treating me that way. It's still happening.


How could we possibly ever come back from this? I love him. Let me repeat that.

I LOVE HIM.

I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM.

To the depths of my soul, I love and appreciate all of the beautiful qualities about this man, but when he told me he was broken he meant business. (Or maybe he's just an asshole like the rest of them.) this breaks my heart, but every day that passes and every negative incident that happens is one more log on the fire, blowing this up and taking us further down this horrendous rabbit hole into hell. Our relationship and connection was magic. And nothing will ever make me forget that. But how could we ever repair this? Now I question whether we ever could. Part of me can't forgive him for that either- for ruining this for US. Not just the things that have happened, but for continuing to throw us away. Even our friendship. Why? It pains me so deeply. Like a twisted knife. Walking away from someone I would equate to the closest thing I've ever had to a true soul mate feels like a mistake. But with timing this bad, the universe doesn't seem to want us together right now. Or as Daniel has told me, (more than once), he has a terrible habit of over complicating things. He certainly accomplished that with me.

Get off my Jock

I don't think anyone can really relate to the hardship of "moving on," or "letting go," unless they have truly experienced large, traumatic losses.

I have been on the receiving end of unsolicited advice from several friends who, if I share with them some of my processing, they will interject that "maybe it's time you move on."

This is the single most frustrating, irritating and over time, infuriating comment. What is it that you think I am doing? I write, I talk, I cry, I am traveling, and I am working on myself. I sat in therapy every week talking about all of this stuff. So what exactly about any of that doesn't meet YOUR judgmental view of "moving on"? Do I need to have sex with, have a relationship with or marry someone else? Because I find that to be absurd. Why is there so much judgment in the process of healing? Why can't each person just experience it at their own pace, and in their own way? Why do we need to project our own world view on other people? What benefit does this service to the healing person? Other than to feel judged? I carry with me so many nasty, hurtful, judgmental comments forced upon me by well meaning friends. They are not helpful. In fact, they can be debilitating.

I am assuming these people want me to become intimately involved with someone new. This is incongruent with my personal beliefs. I could not hold hands, kiss, or spend any kind of intimate time with someone I wasn't developing serious feelings for; or in love with. I've never gone beyond a first date with someone I wasn't seriously interested in or who didn't have solid potential. But, if I have said, I am as emotionally available as a tree stump... then how could I be open enough with someone knew to explore that potential, or frankly, to even recognize it? It's a little absurd. Also, I would never ever do to someone else what has been done to me. It's wrong. I'm not emotionally available. I'm working through my baggage. No relationships for me right now. Which means, none of those other things that come with that. I need to be alone, or to move slowly. Just because your post relationship processing looks different than mine does not mean I am not working through it. It means we are different people with different values. Which is fine! I don't date for the sake of dating. That is wildly uncomfortable for me. I believe in dating with a purpose. Without that purpose, I feel lost. I see no point. I'm just wasting everyone's time otherwise.

So please, people who don't even read this blog... Get off my jock.

More lies and on feeling disconnected

At the beginning of a relationship, there is so much hope; so much potential. The future is so bright and positive and just... delightful. Every conversation between Daniel and I was like magic. Even before I met him it was magic. Everything I wanted to hear he would say. There were few things that didn't match up between us and they were largely manageable incompatibilities; they were negotiable. We named our pet pigs for our future farm. We discussed baby names and life plans and when we would move in together. There was a plan. It was fast, but it felt real and natural. I had been down the road before and so had he, but it felt good.

Today, I feel like I am gripping handfuls of broken glass. This magic dream that floated just above my grasp last Autumn, just ready to settle into my palms, so peacefully, so naturally has just shattered into this painful shards. Now it's nothing but broken.

Daniel left for Australia last week. Just a vacation, but with the intention and goal of moving there later this year. Maybe it won't happen- I've heard the job market is poor. But he's a determined guy and if he wants to go, he will. Repairing our relationship has been bumpy but fairly steady. I don't know exactly where it's headed, but I have felt okay with that. It has felt like there is potential there and I have felt at peace with whatever way the wind blows us, as long as no doors are closed. With his intention of leaving the country however, it does feel like a door is slamming on any romantic potential between us. There just won't be time for us to sort through things before he intends on leaving. He needs to heal his heart, and we need to heal the wounds between us, and months is just not enough time for us to do that, AND to move forward into a place where moving together would be on the table.

His trip got off to a rocky start he had some delays on his US connections, almost missed his international connection- they mysteriously sat on the runway at LAX, then what should have been a direct flight to Australia ended up making an emergency medical stop in Hawaii due to a passenger on his flight, where his flight ended up being stuck for two days. The plane had mechanical problems and a few other hiccups and eventually United transferred the passengers to other carriers. He originally left the US on a Wednesday but did not reach Australia until Saturday. It was a tad wild. I smugly giggled more than appropriate over the whole thing (not the Hawaii is a terrible place to be trapped, but he missed a number of activities in Australia, as I am aware) and even told him, karma was getting him back.

The curious thing about this trip though, was I had asked him previously if he was going alone, or with a good friend (who he will be planning an extended 8+ week trip to Australia later this year) and he told me the friend was meeting him at LAX (flying from the east coast to meet him there) and they were flying together from that point. But... it was quickly apparent from social media that his friend was not there. As he checked in on Facebook, with other passengers on his flight, and complained, and posted photos, it was very obvious he was on this trip alone... And eventually reached his final destination alone. His friend engaged with him online with no comments about missing his flight or any similar complaint.... Which leads me to the only conclusion I can come up with. Daniel lied. Again.

I can't possibly imagine why. What a ridiculous thing to lie about. Why would I care if he was traveling alone? I just returned from Cuba (alone) the same day he told me this yarn about traveling with his friend. So why would he lie? I am so incredibly baffled about this. And I became.. almost instantly... disconnected from him. I'm not even quite disappointed. It's like my heart turned off. It's such a familiar poison as that which I experienced with Matt that my emotional response is all but absent. But I'm not exactly sure what to do with the information either. I suppose, logically, I need to hold off on any action until he returns, and then simply inquire. But I feel as though my hand is somewhat forced at this point, because we now have a pattern. A pattern I don't understand or relate to. An illogical, nonsensical, ridiculous pattern. A pattern of pissing all over a relationship that was magic and wonderful and emotionally connected. And now wasted. But if you don't have trust, and you literally cannot trust any words that come from your partner's mouth, even about silly things like their travel plans, then what do you have? I'm confident if I ask him what is going on, he will answer honestly, but I don't understand why his first impulse is to lie to me. Is it just me? Or has this always been a problem? Is this some part of the trauma of all that he has been through? I have no idea. I'm so... confused.

I feel very checked out. I can't really imagine what will happen at this point. I'm surprised this is where we are turning now. If you had asked me in September, October, November- any previous month, I never would have guessed any of the things that had happened would have happened... But here we are. Another plot twist. But at least I am still upright this time around.

Closing the door- and opening it again. (Seeing Daniel for the first time; Second date with Chris)

My first date with Chris was at Kupros. We grabbed beers and chatted about our similar backgrounds. He had been in a punk band for a decade, traveling all over, living the high life, and then the band broke up one day. They all grew up, he went back to school and became an accountant. We had different artistic backgrounds, but our stories were comparable. He was very nice and while I wasn't exactly sure we had chemistry, I thought he might be a fun friend to go to concerts with. It was worth trying for a second date. He had already asked me to go to a Brian Fallon concert- the frontman for Gaslight Anthem which had also recently broken up- and I accepted.

I went to check out the concert info on Facebook, and double checked the RSVP list. There were only about a dozen people (or less) who had said they were attending the concert and I just had one of those feelings. You know what I mean?

And there it was. Daniel had also RSVP'd to the concert. His name stared back at me big and bold on the page. I wasn't really sure what to do.

I had already heard the tickets weren't selling well and I was more than a little concerned no one was coming to this show. I suddenly had flashes of being alone in the concert venue with my date, 5 people and my ex. I contemplated canceling with Chris, but I didn't want to stop living my life just because Daniel would be there.

So I texted him.

I said something like, it was awkward that we weren't speaking, and I kept seeing him, or people he knew around town and it would be better if we had some kind of open line of communication.

Pretty quickly I got a response, which shocked me. I didn't expect him to respond at all. But the response was hostile and was along the lines of, "I'm sorry you're afraid to go places but that's not really my problem. " And something about, "I don't see how talking will help anything. You want a  relationship and I don't."

Honestly, I laughed when I read it because he was so (unnecessarily) reactive to what I had written. So I clarified, stated I was going to a concert and saw he was going and didn't want it to be awkward.

He immediately softened. He told me he would never run away from me and hoped I wouldn't either, and if I wanted to go to a show, I should go. He hoped I would say "Hi," too. It was like a night and day difference once I clarified. We ended up texting for hours, catching up, talking about trips we had planned and what had been going on in our lives.

I told him I would be at the concert with a date and asked if that would be uncomfortable, and he said no, of course not, and in turn told me he'd be there with a platonic female friend. He told me a little about her and I felt my back go up almost immediately. He talked about her like a jealous boyfriend. I could just smell something was weird about it, but accepted it. I did tell him it would be weird for me to see him with someone but that's where we were at. We also discussed social media, and decided to re-friend each other on Facebook. Valentine's Day he accepted my friend request.

Thursday Chris and I went to Bottle & Barlow, a charming upscale bar where he just so happened to know the owner. When I walked up out front I saw him do a little double take at what I was wearing, smile, and then immediately stifle it. It was very flattering to see someone openly be so pleased with how I looked but I instantly felt shy. I didn't think it was anything special, but what do I know? I wore jeans and boots, a black and white striped shirt with buttons up the back and my leather jacket.

I was actually pretty proud of myself that day though- I had just fit into a size 0 for the first time and I wore those jeans for the very first time that night. I weighed in just around 140- I was down around 93 pounds from my highest weight.

Chris and I had drinks before the concert and I tried to shake off my nerves about Daniel being there, and being on a second date. This was my first second date since Daniel and I had started dating. I had already briefed Chris on the situation and he was comfortable with everything and I planed on saying hello to Daniel at some point if we ran into each other. Around 7:30 or so Chris and I walked over to the venue and found a spot up in the side balcony/elevated area where we could see everything. Some friends and co-workers of his also happened to be there so there was a group of us. I tried to just ignore my anxiety and enjoy the company I was with, but Daniel was always in the back of my mind. 

The opening act started to play and while I was facing the stage, I could suddenly just feel this presence from across the room. It was like a honing beacon. Without even turning my head I just knew he was there. It was pretty bizarre. This feeling of being pulled to something across the room with a couple hundred people between us. I turned my head just a bit and it was definitely him. Every few minutes he would turn his head one way or the other and obviously scan the room. He was looking for me.

I waited until the opening act finished, and excused myself to the restroom, with the promise of bringing a drink back for my date. After using the ladies though, I beelined straight for Daniel. 

I put my hand on the back of his leather jacket and he turned to the left towards me. He smiled very softly at me, and he looked almost relieved to see me. He gave me a little side hug and we started to talk. His friend had been ill and hadn't come, so he was there alone. He asked me a couple of questions about my date and I tried to hide it, but he reads me so well. Some emotion must have flashed behind my eyes because he interrupted me and said, "You're upset." And I said No, I wasn't. And he said that no, he could tell. I looked down at the ground and tried to pull back in the tears that had briefly glazed my eyes in front of him. I don't remember specifically what he said, but he pestered me a bit about the definition of my relationship with my date. My man friend? Boyfriend?  To some of these I answered "No," and to at least one I told him, "You can't ask me that." Because he knew my situation. He had been the first person I dated in 5 years and intimacy in relationships was a very touchy thing for me. We talked about his upcoming trip to Australia and Patagonia and his new Sony camera, which made me so proud. (I'm a Sony shooter.) I was surprised he remembered I shot Sony and had allowed that to influence his decision in purchasing a camera. I was pleased. He paused at some point in the conversation and said, "You're still someone I'm attracted to." I blushed and looked away. I didn't know how to respond. Here is this person who I loved more than anything, but had hurt me deeply and didn't want to be with me. What do you say?

We talked far longer than was appropriate- probably close to 20 minutes, and had more to say when the main act started to come on stage. Daniel invited my date to come down with me and stand on the floor with him but I absolutely refused. Beyond the fact I needed boundaries, it wouldn't be fair to Chris either. I also just didn't want to be on a date in front of someone I was still in love with. 

I started to walk away and we hugged again. He said, "See, this wasn't that awkward, right?"

I smiled a little out of the corner of my mouth and retorted, "Well, I'm raging drunk right now. And your date isn't here."

He laughed back at me. "Yeah, I'm drunk too." His eyes twinkled at me. And then he was inviting me to come over to his house after the show. Without hesitation I said sure, and told him to text me after it was over.

I headed over to the bar and finally got Chris his very tardy drink and apologized for taking so long. I told him I had seen Daniel and he said he had figured and asked how it went. I remember feeling both wildly relieved and absolutely pumped with adrenaline. I couldn't stop moving for the rest of the show. 

After, Chris walked me to my car and we talked a bit. Part of the conversation turned to friendships with exes. I was impressed he had somehow managed to stay friends with all of his and he guided me a little bit on his experiences. There was only one woman he had struggled to be friends with, and it was because they still had feelings for each other. He told me he felt the only way to really turn it into a friendship was to get involved with someone else. From the way he was looking at me, I knew what he was saying. I gave him a hug but turned and walked back to my car and started to drive to Daniel's.

I kind of wonder now if he had deleted my number, which is odd since we had just texted days before (and he had texted me several times in the days leading up to the concert as well, which also surprised me). But he had Facebook messaged me to let me know he was on his way home and to let him know if I still wanted to come over and talk. I replied back that I was on my way and would be there in a few.

Walking up to his old Victorian in Boulevard Park was the oddest feeling. Like I was trespassing, but with a free pass for the day. I wasn't supposed to be there, but I had been invited. I called or texted from the porch that I couldn't remember his building code anymore and he walked out to let me in.

Walking past him into his house I immediately froze. I hadn't stood in that hallway since the day we broke up. I felt absolutely overwhelmed with emotion and a little scared. From behind me he couldn't have seen my face but he just seemed to instinctively know what was wrong and put his hands on my back and said, "It's okay. I know it looks a little different now. But it's okay." I took a breath and walked in. He got me a beer and offered me a seat on his couch. I stood in the living room a minute and just looked around. He had cleaned up a bit, and rearranged a couple of things but mostly it was the same. And that felt odd. This place had felt like a home to me. I had been as at ease in it as I had been in my own home and I felt like a stranger to it's walls now. 

I turned to look at the couch and hesitated again. He handed me my drink invited me to sit again, and as I stood there said, "That couch is bad. All of the bad things happened on that couch." And Dan just patted me and said, we'll make some better memories on it now."

That couch... it's like a big monument to the bad things in our relationship. We stopped being physical with each other when that couch came into his house. I confronted him about his ex on that couch. He rejected me on that couch. Sitting on the short arm of that beige colored piece of crap, he broke my heart into a thousand pieces when he told me he couldn't do "this" anymore. The last time I touched that couch was the moment I was sobbing, bent over the arm after Dan told me he couldn't imagine getting involved with someone until at least after the bar exam.  That couch holds many bad, terrible, emotional memories for me.

I walked with Dan over to the couch and curled up next to him. At first we just sat facing each other talking, but the longer we were there, the hours passed by, and the closer we shifted towards each other. All of a sudden I found myself with my legs slung over his lap and our hands intertwined and our arms around each other. "What exactly is happening here?" he laughed at me. And I just said, "I don't know, I'm drunk!" And he laughed and I laughed and we cuddled in closer to each other. I missed him, and this felt good.

We talked about everything. He answered questions that had been building up for me over the last 12 weeks we had been apart; we caught up on our lives. He apologized for things he had done. We talked about his tattoos and our vacation plans.  He told me he was going to get a Celtic woman and a lady boxer as part of his tattoos but he didn't want to tell me why because he wanted it to be private. I don't understand why though. He always told me before. He told me he can't be in a relationship, but that he wants someone to go on adventures with. I died a little death with that thought later, because I wished it was me that was going on adventures with him. He told me he eventually told Kait (his best friend) that he had lied to me about his ex. She slapped him across the face and called him an idiot. I really wished I had met her, and said so. I think he said maybe someday I would. Honestly I hope that's true. I don't even know this girl, but I like her.

Music was playing in the background and at one point I recognized the long guitar intro to a particular song and paused and just like he always seemed to know my thoughts he said he had played this song for me before. I wish I knew what song it was but I never asked.

We talked all night. I lost track of time after 4am but we told so many stories. He had seen his ex at the Farmer's Market once, and they hadn't spoken. He said it was not him that say in front of the record store. He hadn't been there in months. Not since he went with me. He told me about the girls that had been in his life since and we talked about that too. I felt betrayed. Upset. He tried to comfort me about that too. Those decisions had had nothing to do with me. They had more to do with his own discomfort. There had even been someone the day after we broke up. I was crushed, but I had suspected it. "It had nothing to do with you. I just felt so empty and so alone after we broke up and I wanted it to go away. With you, there were feelings, with her, there wasn't. And that's why it couldn't be you." There had been too much pressure. Pressure I argued back to him that he had put on himself, not that I had put on him.  We held each other.

He looked over at me, and started to say something, but stopped himself, as he often did with me. "Just say it," I smiled back at him and touched his shoulder with a little reassurance.
"No it's a bad idea."
"Just say it."
"I was just going to say I wanted to kiss you." He looked at me sideways and a little guiltily.
Without any hesitation I leaned over and kissed him. It's what I wanted. I had thought about it a thousand times before that night. Given all that had happened leading up to the day we broke up, and all of the things that had happened since, I was surprised he said it or even felt it, but it didn't diminish my feelings in any respect. I leaned back and looked at him, and we went right back to talking.  Every few minutes there would be a pause and we'd lean over and kiss each other.

After awhile he sort of laughed without warning; I suppose as the thought came through his mind. "My friends are not going to believe this when I tell them my friend canceled on me and instead I ended up bringing my ex-girlfriend home with me, getting her drunk and making out on my couch until the middle of the night."
"This is not making out."
"Well."
Being the instigator that I am, this was of course the point at which we started making out.

At one point, we sat back and looked at each other and he sort of looked me up and down and then made long eye contact and asked me if I had dressed like that for my date, or for him. I sort of stuttered out what did he mean, that I was just dressed nicely but he just smiled. Because, I don't know if he really understood, but of course I dressed that way for him. I wanted to look nice going out, but if I saw him, I wanted to look nice and be comfortable and confidant. Nothing really does that like a new outfit does. I had started wearing my hope necklace again too, but worn backwards, because I don't have my hope back yet.

He told me he hates himself every day. He hates himself for what he did to me and he doesn't understand why I don't hate him. That if things were reversed, he would hate me.Of all of his exes, for some reason I had given him some kind of wild anxiety that I would try and kill him. I have no idea why he thought that. Or if he really though that, why he would have invited me back into his home. He did tell me that when we were breaking up and I told him that I needed to branch out and make my own friends in this new place that that really struck a chord with him. While he hadn't considered it at the time, in retrospect, he felt like I depended on him too much. I honestly felt we mutually leaned on each other, and that it was fairly normal for the beginning of a relationship but I still needed to work on building friendships, which takes time to do.

We eventually fell asleep, his arms around me and I slept more soundly than I had in months. When his alarm went off in the morning we both ignored it and just cuddled instead. When he finally got up, he was late for work by more than an hour but he didn't stop himself from continuing to visit with me and he drove me to my car. We hugged and kissed good bye, several times in the car and talked about closure and how important this had been. We thanked each other for being able to have the conversations we had had, and he thanked me for continuing to understand he still wasn't ready to be involved. I kissed him one last time and said good bye. My heart was heavy but seeing him was such a relief.

The next day I was riding around with my friend Mary and I told her what had happened. As we sat at the stop light, she turned to me, grinned and said, "Welcome back to the land of the living." And shifted the car back into first.

Following in the steps of his healing

It's been such a long time since I've gone through the break up process I honestly don't really remember what it's like anymore. The last few days I've heard myself echoing in my own head Daniel's words about needing to be alone, and figure things out with therapy, and take care of myself. I started turning off my dating apps and saying no to the (many, many) dates I've been asked out on over the last few weeks and shutting down conversations that men keep starting with me. Even supposedly platonic conversations I have stopped in their tracks because, I am just not ready. I feel about as emotionally available as a tree stump.

 I'm sitting here in this coffee shop in midtown and every time I see a car that looks like his drive by my heart jumps a little, and in the same breath... my body feels like he's becoming a stranger a bit again. It's happening. He's going away. The memories are. We've been separated longer than we were together now and as much as I want to hold on to everything, the world has continued to spin madly on.

I hang on to everything I have because, this relationship mattered so much to me. And my heart still aches for the feelings he evoked in me and the connection I know we had. And I still cry. I cry in the car, curled in my bed late at night, over sad episodes of Sex and the City, and sometimes even in Target wandering around on a Saturday afternoon. But I can't stop him from going away. He's been gone physically for two months. I haven't communicated with him in a month now, and now, the part that I held and clung to so dearly- my memories- his voice, smell, how he held my hand, how he cradled me in his arms. Those things are starting to go too. Those are not things that I want parted from my memory and I know that I will cling to them as long as possible. And it will prolong the ache in my chest. But I can't help it. It's the only thing I have left now. I don't want that reality to happen. I don't want to meet him again one day as strangers. This man I loved so much. Even though I am afraid; I am already gone from his mind.

Why do we even bother with love anyway, when it causes this much pain?

That Guy I met when I was Moving Away...

Driving on I-5 South the Weekend I moved back to California

Fall of 2014 I was going to Trivia a ton with Sarah until I got into a car accident at the airport after a late night at trivia, and never went again. The very last week before I moved, I wanted to embrace life in Eugene and literally took up every invitation extended to me to maximize social time. I felt so anxious and nervous about moving and not having a big social network back here in California... I wanted to fill up my body with as much Oregon as I possibly could! So after a six month hiatus I returned to trivia at a local bar.

And there he was... This guy from the law school that looked familiar but whose name was not really familiar to me. He and this other guy who likes to dress up as Buddy the Elf at the holidays and deck out the law school with paper snowflakes and other non-specific winter decorations (YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SERIOUS HE TAKES THIS) were there, and apparently had been coming for months. They were both cute, and I was roughly 40 pounds lighter than I had been the last two years I had been bumping into them at the law school so neither of them had any recollection of me whatsoever. I was moving, literally, that weekend though, so I didn't really pay them any attention. Plus I was sitting on the other side of the table.

There was a point in the game where each table was passed this Xerox'ed paper with random, unfamiliar actors on it... Our trivia team did a pretty good job of identifying a fair number of them, except this one woman- who I immediately recognized and no one else knew. But I struggled for a good 5 minutes to come up with her name. I knew she had been in Twister- and her role and her character name and the DIRECTOR'S name... finally I took a stab at her name and they handed it in. They didn't really think I would have got it and assumed they lost the round. After the sheet got handed in, somebody busts out their phone and googles the answer- Jami Gertz. I got it, spelling and all. The guy, eyes wide and admiring- yells across the table, "You are everything they said you would be and MORE!" Everybody burst out laughing and then glanced back and forth between the two of us while I blushed furiously.

After the game I stalled a little and changed seats and struck up a conversation with this charmer- who was truly a charmer. He had just graduated from the law school, was 30- far closer in age to me than most of my dates the last couple of years, had grown up just 20 minutes from me in Southern California and got all of my jokes and slang. Then I mentioned I was moving back to California the following Monday and the conversation abruptly shut down- and understandably so. I chatted with another girl I didn't really know for a bit, and reluctantly began to leave when he began to talk to me again, and eventually asked for my business card. Weirdly enough, he had also been a wedding photographer. Not as long as I had, by any means, but it was another thing in common that we enjoyed talking about.

I figured he got my card so he could get my phone number- which isn't on my card, so when I got home I got his last name from a friend and friended him on facebook. And then he messaged me- and the flirting ensued. Numbers were swapped, and he invited me out for a drink the next night. But... I already had plans.

Connor was having a house party the next night as an early 4th of July type deal, but also, secretly it sort of felt like a send off for me. I don't know if this was intentional, but it did a little bit feel like a good bye party for me. It probably WASN'T, but it felt like it, and it was awesome. Lots of people came, I saw so many random friends, and I had a blast.

One friend Caitlyn was extremely anxious to go dancing and wanted to close out the house party and shuffle it along to a place to go dancing. She was actually so anxious to do this that she pushed us out of the house and sent us to the dance place- Cowfish - long before any people had arrived there to actually dance. Which was ridiculous. (And super frustrating, because everyone was having fun at the house just socializing, and many people did not want to go dancing and us leaving forced them to go home.) Since Cowfish wasn't ready for dancing yet, we went to another bar or restaurant to hang out until it was a bit later.

... Meanwhile, I was texting the boy updates of where I was and what I was doing. He had his own group of friends he was corralling and heading in my direction so he could buy me a drink and have a dance with me!

Eventually we all ended up at Cowfish together, dancing and having a good time and the boy showed up, danced with me- he actually two stepped with me!- to pop music... lol ... and got me a drink and we talked and laughed and danced and had a great old time. It just got a little bit awkward when I ended up dancing with both him AND K at the same time. You remember K, right?

Another friend of mine who was aware of the whole dynamic going on watched all of this going on was just laughing hysterically and after both boys moved away patted me on the shoulder and said, "You doin' alright there?" And I just put my head in my hands and GROANED! It was so awkward. Of course K had no idea... He probably wouldn't have cared but it was so awkward.

The next day was the 4th of July, and the boy somehow crafted an invitation for me to a total stranger's BBQ- where he was the only guest. So he invited this other girl Diane to come, who he thought I knew. (But I had only met her at trivia, and briefly.) So I texted Sarah and made her invite herself to this BBQ so I wouldn't be there alone, but I very much wanted to go since I liked the guy and we seemed to be hitting it off.  The BBQ was good, and we all drove to a local HS baseball field to watch the fireworks. He and I sat next to each other and talked awesomely, but weirdly, Diane sat kitty corner to us.... she was actually so attached to us I wondered if she had a thing for him, or he had a thing for her and if maybe if I was inventing this whole flirtation in my head. But eventually, she got up and moved and left us to talk and it was good. We talked about all kinds of things, our families and backgrounds and there was just this solid chemistry that I hadn't really experienced before. Things were clicking, and it felt really special. In my other relationships... I hadn't really had that. Definitely personality matches but there was something different about this that I couldn't quite describe and it felt really good. Kind of magic. This connection.

We all rode back to the house together, and then it was kind of time to go home... Funnily enough, I heard later Diane tried to steer me to the front seat to sit next to Luke, but I "ran to the back door so fast she couldn't stop me..." Which is hilarious because I wasn't even aware of it at the time.

The part of this whole story I should probably mention is the fact that this guy (Luke...) had already had a thing with TWO of my friends. One of whom he was subletting their apartment for the summer. As in, he was living in her house. And he had fooled around with her in that same house. The same house I had been in many times before. Incredibly awkward. I felt very uncomfortable with this knowledge and swore Sarah to secrecy that I had hit it off with this guy but she just rolled her eyes because she knew I'd eventually tell them both anyway. I wasn't really sure what to do because we seemed to be connecting so well.. It was confusing.

Anyway, we got back to the house and it turned out that he had driven Diane to the BBQ, because she doesn't drive. So... that was the end of the night. I reluctantly got in my car to drive home.

I can't even tell you how slowly I drove across town. ....With the volume on my phone turned all the way up... just hoping...

And right when I got to downtown and close to the freeway entrance I got the text message. Would I like one more drink with him before calling it a night?

Oh, yes, yes I would!

I turned around, and very awkwardly drove to my friend's house, which he was subletting. He had suggested a pub around the corner- where I had been with my friend a bunch of times. I found myself shaking off the heebie jeebies as we walked across the parking lot together and settled in the cozy little outdoor patio together for another long conversation. Not too long into chatting fireworks starting going off behind him, and as I exclaimed, Luke hopped right up and came over and sat next to me on the picnic bench- smooth move.

We talked for a good couple of hours and I will say how easy it felt. We had a bunch of weird little things in common and it was just simple. With K it was also difficult to connect because he had so many boundaries and walls up all the time and it was always a problem. Here, that was not a factor. He was just open, and that was awesome. I could feel myself being so open too, and also hoping this could be something. And kicking myself that I was moving. Why did I meet him when I was moving?!

As I was teasing him about something, (and laughing hysterically) he suddenly grabbed me in a headlock and kissed me- but I didn't stop laughing. It was just fun! Light hearted and fun.

The next day my dad arrived and the frantic moving process started, which was a nightmare. Sarah and Connor both pitched in to help and our program manager even came by to pick up furniture. Luke offered to come by and help, but having just met him I wasn't really comfortable with that. I fought with my dad all of Sunday, and Monday and it was really unpleasant and I was pretty tense by that point.

Sarah let me know that she and Luke and another friend would be bowling that night and on a whim I went and joined them.

And it was totally different. He was flirty, but not like before. He gave me high fives and teased me but seemed distracted and when I offered to drive him home afterwards (he had walked), he said no thanks and walked home without saying good bye to any of us. My two friends shouted good byes at him and gave me bugged eyed looks as he walked across the parking lot. (What the heck?)

I went back to my townhouse that night, stayed up until 4am cleaning, and then drove a couple of hours to a hotel to meet my dad. I got texts from Luke early that morning wishing me well, but it was all bizarre. I then clued my two friends who had spent time with him and knew him better and one said he connects with everybody and it doesn't really mean anything, and the other said he's probably a player. What was weird was, after I got to California, he continued to text me- and we talked on the phone once- and talked about visits and dates and things. Right up until Sarah alerted me that he brought a date to trivia a couple weeks later. Some girl who lives in his building who he broke up with right after. Since we were communicating heavily at the time, it really was not cool, and he super misled me. My little heart was pretty bruised over that and I'll totally admit to shedding tears.

But the connection... That connection was something to remember. I hadn't had that before.

In retrospect I do think it is something that is a part of his personality- like a friendly puppy who runs around happily jumping on everybody's laps and licking their hands with glee and you just can't help but adore- but that also means the connection on the puppy's side is not necessarily meaningful. Even if you feel bonded to the puppy....

Saying "Thank You," and my 4th Anniversary of Discovery

August 3rd, 2014 was the 4th anniversary of the day I found out about Matt. It seems so bizarre that it has been that long. Honestly, it still feels like it's only been months, or maybe a year. Not four.

I think my lack of perception on time really just indicates how much this has consumed my life these last few years. I also haven't really had much else to fill my life during that time. What other life events have punctuated the last 4 years? I got a dog with massive behavioral problems, so that was new... but I lived in the same house, at the same address, doing the same job for 3 of those years. It's only this last year, starting school and traveling so much that there has really been anything note-worthy happening in my life. Even the dog I got just a couple of months after exposing Matt, so his addition to my life wasn't really a huge separate event.

On my anniversary this year, I was shooting a wedding in Virgina. It was a good day, and I hardly thought about Matt at all because I was so nervous working. This was my first Deaf wedding and I had absurdly high expectations of myself and felt very insecure about my inability to communicate in a language I felt I should be fluent in. (Deaf Studies was my college minor.) The anxiety over surviving the wedding protected me pretty sufficiently from any upset I would have experienced over the significance of the day.

But of course, the universe couldn't let me get away with just that. (Or maybe *I* couldn't let the occasion pass with just that.)

Yesterday, I suddenly felt overcome with the thought that I needed to write a thank you letter to the woman who revealed to me that Matt was married. She is on my mind on a fairly regular basis because of her job (which is a public sort of thing,) and because she lived in the area I live in now. She's also the only connection I had to the reality that was Matt's real life. She told me EVERYTHING. And she did that with disregard to the consequences she could face by doing so. I have no idea what her experience was like, but my presumption was that the scandal made it's way around the family gossip at some point and she kept quiet about her involvement, even though she basically got a play by play from me of  what happened AS it happened, and then a re-cap afterwards. She and I discussed what I should do the day I went to tell S (wife), and mutually agreed that the only way for S to "hear" me was to tell her in person. This woman provided support via text and email as everything was happening and I have no doubt, prayed for me before, during and afterwards. She also told me that she had almost married the wrong man once and counseled me that the right person was out there for me, and that that person was not Matt. She also said she did not believe Matt was the right person for S either. I agree. She said we both deserved more and again, I agree.

Her words at such a significant moment in my life weighed heavily on me and have continued to.

So yesterday I wrote her a thank you note. I poured out my heart and shared with her the significance of her involvement and support at that time. It was something I felt I needed to do, and at this moment, I am glad I shared those thoughts with her.

That said, I don't know how wise of an idea it was. I haven't heard from this woman in 4 years. I have no idea what she went through on her end after everything blew up. I have no idea if Matt and S ever found out she was the one who ratted him out. I have no idea what consequences she may have endured. I also have no idea if she knows about the law suit, or what her thoughts or feelings would have been on that. I hope, above all else, receiving my note was not upsetting to her.

And hopefully nobody like, takes out a restraining order against me either. Considering that's probably what I would do, if she never responds I'll consider myself lucky.

Like Ripping Off a Bandaid (First Date)

I did it! I went on my first date in 3.5 years. Can you believe it?! August 3rd, 2010 was the date of my discovery of Matt's tangled web, and it has taken me all of this time to find my way back to some kind of normalcy, but I think it's going well!

After I wrote that last post about being stood up, I very quickly heard from my date, who, had overslept and apologized profusely, and pretty much begged to let him take me out. He asked me out for every day this weekend, and after being promised a pony, a magical carriage, and the balance of his trust fund, I agreed. :)

We went for coffee, which quickly morphed into full breakfast, but we only hung out for about an hour. I feel like I talked way too much, and revealed too much about myself- blabbered on- like I am so inclined to do- but he did talk a decent amount, I think he's funny and I do like him. We have lots of silly personality things in common, like being disorganized and easily distract-able and having messy school desks as children. (I actually snorted coffee out my nose as he mirrored his childhood experiences with mine about that!) I think he's cute, and more importantly, honest and respectful and just very genuine. I had a very nice time, and as anxious as I was about it, I think I handled it well!

Frankly I have no idea of what his interest is, because he did say he needed to go to school and cut it off pretty cleanly at the hour mark. He's in law school, so that is very possible and could have just been an honest answer. It could also be though that he just wasn't interested, felt guilty about standing me up and fulfilled an obligation. I have no idea. He said he'd get in touch or something like that when we left, but he did hug me goodbye and shouted a joke to me as he went by on the street.

It was very nice. I feel good. :)

First Date

Don't get too excited, as this didn't really go how I planned. But a couple three weeks ago I asked a guy out on a date for coffee. (Otherwise known as a "coffee thing.")

We met during a styled photo shoot I had  designed recreationally for work and was one of the "models," who were actually all friends or acquaintances and students at the law school I'm doing my graduate work at.

He was pretty scruffy looking when I saw his pictures and when we first met in person, but he immediately stuck me as just being so kind and genuine. A lot of the qualities I mentioned in my last post about my guy friend at school-  this man clearly possessed also and it struck me. I waited for an opening and emailed him an invite for coffee. Because he is a law student, his time is over-scheduled, and while he responded enthusiastically, it's taken us three weeks to find a date and time.

I had become increasingly anxious because this would be the first time I've gone out with anyone since Matt. I'm rusty, and was never really good at this anyway. I fretted over clothes, dodged him on campus and just totally psyched myself out. 

I did do it though, and showed up (just a couple minutes late! ...ok, 7 minutes late;)  at the cute little espresso house he suggested across town.

And I waited... And waited... And waited.

I have now been sitting here for over an hour, alone, feeling a mixture of relief and extreme sadness. 

I was really looking forward to, and was excited about, getting back to normal. That the universe was going to show me that men are not all bad, and can be kind and gentle and loving and treat people well.

I feel kind of stupid now. It's probably something silly, like he forgot or something came unexpectedly. It happens. I understand. And it's forgivable. 

I just feel very... Alone. And unimportant. Left behind. Lonely. Not special. Rejected. And that my life is not ever going to change. I have done the work here, and I will continue to do it. But I am disappointed that its still not my time yet, and fearful, just a bit, that it never will be. 

Progress Report on my Mental Health

I was in class on Thursday and was suddenly hit with this wave of recognition of how far I've come. Granted, it's taken 3.5 years to get this far, but as I stood there, I couldn't help but reflect, and then become teary eyed, over how far I'd come.

In the Fall of 2011 I registered for an introductory German language course at the local community college. It had been a year since I had found out about Matt, and ended our relationship, and I had been hidden away in my house pretty much that entire year. I had done little, and gone very few places in that time, and was lonely and trying really hard to move on. (Which of course is never a good mindset- moving on happens when you don't notice it.. You can't make it happen, it just happens.)

While I was excited to register for the course, I was also terrified of what I would find in the classroom. I was absolutely terrified of men and had panic attacks regularly, despite being in therapy, and on anti-anxiety medication. I could not go to the grocery store without being wracked with fear.

I scheduled an appointment to meet with the professor ahead of time to see if something could be worked out. From the moment I sat down with her, I began to shake and cry. I was terribly embarrassed that I couldn't control myself, but she was so incredibly kind, and so soft and gentle with me. She said she would do whatever she could to help me stay in that class and survive the semester. She gave me permission to leave the room at any time I felt uncomfortable and assigned seats in the room so I would be surrounded by women, and so I would only be ever paired with women. I was still terrified, but her accommodations allowed me to stay in the course.

It started out an almost daily occurrence- rushing into the hallway to hyperventilate and sob  everytime we did a group activity, or a socializing activity. We were supposed to talk to other students in class, fill out a form by asking questions auf Deustch (eg: Are you wearing blue socks? Is your favorite color green?, etc.) I stayed in my seat because I was too afraid to get up, and managed to ask two or three questions of those girls sitting around me before a 17 year old accelerated high school student strolled up and tried to ask me a question. He was such a sweet kid, and so young, but I couldn't help myself and I ran out of the room crying. I sat on the toilet in the women's room for the rest of class, trying to calm myself down. He hadn't even asked me the question. He just got too close to my desk and I was physically unable to handle the stress. It was awful.

Over time though, the class got better, and I tolerated more and more, and ran out of the room less; but I never would have been able to be in that room had I not had such a caring, sensitive teacher. She truly made a huge impact on my life. She even wrote my recommendation letter for graduate school. She was amazing.

The next term I couldn't take another class with her and ultimately withdrew from the other teacher's course because she simply could not cater to my needs the way the first teacher had. (On the second day of class she paired me with a man for a partner- even though I had spoken to her about my problems. I tried to calm my panic attack as I stood out in the hall, some kid shoved a flyer in my face [while I was sobbing and hyperventilating] and then laughed at me and shouted down the hallway that I was high on drugs and "tripping." I couldn't take it, and never went back.)

Thinking about where I was... Standing in class on Thursday, our professor had us stand in a circle, close together, and play a game. My heart raced in my chest, and my sweat soaked the underarms of my blouse, but I stood there. I tolerated it. I even forced myself to join in (I may have let loose a curse word) when I was picked at one point. But I participated. Our class is half men. I sit with them all the time. Every day of the week I see them, I stand with them, and talk to them. I even see them out of class from time to time.

Things sure are different around here.

One of my closest friends at school is a man. He is the nicest, sweetest man I have known in a long time. He is the first man I have met since Matt that I truly feel safe with. He will not hurt me- in fact, he would do whatever he could to protect me. He is gentle and soft spoken and so fun to talk to.

He's a little younger than me, and his girlfriend is much younger than him as well- and lives a dozen states away from here. But he is always caring, considerate and kind- just to everyone, and the more I notice it, the more some part of me gives a sigh of relief.

We went out last night and he and I, for some reason we can just talk for hours. I have one other male friend that I have had that kind of chemistry with, but it's not something that comes around often for me. I don't have male friends. We don't connect like that. But for these two people, it's just there. We talk, we listen, it works. The first time this friend of mine and I went out alone, we sat and talked for five hours straight. Just straight through. It was amazing. (It may very well be because he gossips like a teenage girl!)

Anyway, he walked me to my car last night- which gave me pause to begin with. I was in this restaurant with 7 or 8 other people, and I was the only woman who had come alone and no one offered to walk me. I didn't expect it, it just struck me. Without hesitation he was concerned with my safety and wanted to make sure I both got in my car and that it started and that I actually got on my way. Other than my experiences leaving the dog park late at night, no one has ever really done this for me. It may seem like common courtesy, but to me, it was impressive. I wanted to hug him just for offering. It was just... kind. I need "kind," from men, in my life. I need that.

Of course when we got to my car, we stood there, in the freezing cold, talking until 2 in the morning. That's just how we are. Someone at school called us "kindred spirits," which of course I loved for the Anne of Green Gables reference, but really, this probably has more to do with, again, his ability to gossip like a girl! (And we all know I'm great with that!)

While we were chatting, we talked about a classmate of ours who had had a hard day (there was actually a huge incident in class on Thursday during an activity in which three people got into it) and ended up rushing out of class (sounds familiar) and having a panic attack so severe he ended up laying on the floor of the men's room for more than half an hour trying to calm down. My friend, who doesn't know this student all that well, slipped out, found him and sat with them that entire time until he got a handle on himself. I couldn't believe that either. I had gone and sat with another student involved and talked to him to calm him down as well. As far as I know, we were the only two people in our entire cohort that did that. As we talked about it on the side of the road in the middle of the night, we each confided our mutual fears about the mental stability of one of the people involved- we feared he would hurt himself-. We both just "knew," and.. I don't know how to describe that. Seeing sensitivity in a man after all I have been through, and have had done to me by not just Matt, but other terrible people on this planet.- seeing someone be aware and tuned in, and to actually care- it meant something to me. Again, I was just impressed.

At some point the conversation turned to more cheerful matters, and this friend of mine just started spontaneously telling me, unprompted, that he knew the right man was out there for me. That he knew it. He had no doubts, and that that person is going to spring up and surprise me when I least expect it. When I stop looking, I'll just turn a corner and there he will be. He said this a few times, and I laughed, the first few times he said, but then I really started to think about it.

I started to think of that Stephanie Nielson quote that I so loved, " .. but then it was followed by a beautiful spiritual confirmation that this is my new life. It is good. It is oh-so-good."

The only way for me to describe this moment was as a spiritual confirmation that this friend was placed into my life on purpose. He is meant to be my friend, and to show me what men can be like. That they are not all bad. That they will not all hit you, scream at you, be unfaithful to you or force themselves upon you. They will not hold you down and put handcuffs on your wrists while you scream out, scared. They will not all leave bruises on your body and scars on your heart. Some men, like this man, drive through snowstorms to pick their neighbors up at the airport, and babysit three month old babies for no reason other than someone needed help. They will walk you to your car in the cold in the middle of the night, and check in to make sure you made it home safely. They will lay on the floor with you when you are scared and alone and make sure they've done everything they can to help you feel otherwise. They will give you hugs that don't make your skin crawl, but really make you feel happy and safe.

There are apparently people like this on this planet, as difficult as it is for me to believe. I think this was a lesson I had to re-learn because I have been taught precisely the opposite so many times up until now, and I know for sure that I will need this lesson again. He is here to show me that not everyone is bad. That there are safe, kind, good people out there. That you can have friends of the opposite sex and not worry that they will be inappropriate with you, or take advantage of you. That there are other people with the same morals and standards and intuitions as you have. Those people exist.

 I know this friend was sent to me. I don't know how long we will be friends, or even how good of friends we are now. But I know that just by watching this person exist, by demonstrating who he is as a human being, simply by existing, I am beginning to get back something that I lost along the way.

Trust.

PULLED OVER- AGAIN!

As you all know, I have a slight issue with being pulled over. By this I have two meanings:

1.) I have a hysterical nervous breakdown every time I am pulled over complete with flashbacks and a full on panic attack. I do not handle it well.

2.) I seem to be pulled over a lot. Like, a lot. Like there's a memo circulated with my car's picture on it or something a lot.

This would be the 5th time I've been pulled over since Matt. The previous four times were all for speeding, in mostly moderate amounts over the speedlimit. (Why pull someone over for going 71 in a 65?)

I was in downtown Eugene, just leaving a tea house where I was hoping to meet up with a classmate to go shopping for something for the two people who wrote academic references- the people who have no real personal relationship with me and me calling them after 10 years was probably bizarre and overwhelming, if they could even remember who I was.

I bought the fancy, expensive loose leaf tea, had it packaged pretty and wandered back to my car. I had gotten lost on the way there, and had circled around the block three times before calling a friend for help. All those stupid weird one way streets everywhere and illegible street signs. ARGH!

So I get in the car, drive randomly because I think I can find my way back without the GPS since the battery is almost dead and this is practically not an option anyway.

So I go up a few blocks, turn right.

AM GREETED WITH HEADLIGHTS, OMGWTFBBQ??!!!!

Back up rapidly.

Drive over curb.

Freaking curb!!!!!!!!

Look up.
Stare at cop watching me.
Look around for signs.
Apparently it's another stupid one way street.

ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!

Watch cop watching me as the signal goes around again. I go straight this time. But it's a dead end. I pull into a parking lot.

LIGHTS AND BEEPS, TYVM.

And you know what happened? The cop comes up to my window and you know what happened? (Besides me chucking the phone on the floor hastily before the guy saw that too.)

Nothing. I talked to him, explained what I was doing and what happened, he laughed along with me, I dug through my wallet for ID and insurance, and informed me my inability to produce my current insurance card (I had about 7 or 8 expired ones) would ordinarily result in them IMPOUNDING MY CAR, or at least not letting me leave the location- but  after walking back and forth and back and forth (radioing in my license and checking my background) he said I could go with a warning.

My friend turned out to be on the phone the whole time listening and was like, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU when I finally got it up off the floor where I chucked it. I had started to get panty/the pre-panic attack hyperventilation but I think I controlled it to the point where it wasn't too noticeable. The guy did say he thought I was drunk at first, but I guess I convinced him without a breathalyzer. (Then I'm sure I would not have made it. ) But I made it! I did it! Look at me gettin' pulled over like a normal person!

Now if only I could stop getting pulled over...

Promise of the Somewhere Between

And just like that, sometimes your heart is just relieved of all of the anxieties and worries you've placed under it.

Just like that.



Although I've never been "opposed" to adoption, and I 100% believe in it and think it's a beautiful thing, IUI's and IVF and the good old fashioned way of making babies are a whole lot cheaper options, and that had always kind of been my plan. But post-last-days-of-being-29-heart-attack-freak-out, I stumbled into this documentary, and just watching the preview alone? I felt this sudden sense of peace and calm. And I got that just off the preview.

A lot of you who know me in real life probably don't know this, but my family kind of looks like the United Colors of Benetton. My sister's kids are Mexican, my cousin's on my mom's side are black, and my dad's family is Chinese. I just never think about it. It just is.

My aunt's second husband immigrated from China in the late 50's or maybe early 60's with a little boy. (The mother abandoned them or something. The story has always been somewhat unclear.) My aunt adopted and raised him and she and the husband had several children together as well. The oldest son who came from China is my cousin, he calls my aunt his mom, and he just IS my cousin. I never think about the fact he's not biologically related to anyone. I don't actually have any memories of meeting his dad at all and they have been divorced for 20+ years. It probably occurs to me about once every 10 years that technically, we're not actually related, and usually I remember this when I start to make a comment about how alike we are and it must be our genes. Erm.

He married a Chinese woman (pretty sure from China) and they have three children together.  My other [Chinese] cousins also all have [interracial Chinese] children. They all had red egg parties and did all of the usual cultural stuff. Mixed with you know, German traditions. The oldest son's wife used to pick all the honey off our honey baked ham every year, which always pissed off my aunt, and always made off with the expensive $4 cookies my dad would bring from the pricey bakery, which annoyed him. All in all we're a great big happy Chinese-German-Mexican-Afghani (cousin's husband) family.

Anyway. I watched this preview, just the preview alone and I just exhaled this huge sigh of relief. All of that pressure just blew out of me. I don't know why. I've never really felt strongly about adoption, and I can't really say that I do now either, but I feel like I was spiritually (and quite condescendingly I might add) patted on the head and told "It's going to be just fine. There's a whole plan in play no matter which route you go here. Whichever way you go, it is TOTALLY cool. Go on little grasshopper. Take your time. [pat, pat.]"

L o n g,    s l o w    e x h a l e.

I looked all over the internet to find a free copy of the film and I found TONS but all required I download an extra media thing to watch it, and I was spooked since I've had such had luck with this computer that I'm afraid to download any software on to this computer, so it took me 24 hours to commit since I'm having such financial issues, but as a sort of birthday gift, I spent $2.99 and rented the movie on Amazon. It's wonderful. It's called "Somewhere Between," and if they make it free on Prime I'm going to be pissed.

But right now I'm just so grateful I got to watch it because it was beautiful. I'm also, once again grateful for Sex and the City, my favorite show ever, and Charlotte, who adopted a Mandarin baby herself in the series finale. (With her Jewish husband after discovering she was barren with her Scottish 1st husband, who refused to explore adoption or fertility treatments with her.)  As Charlotte said after she and Harry had been disappointed once again in their journey to try and grow their family together (failed placement- yes, they showed a failed adoption placement on a show called "Sex and the City" for those of you spooked by the title) she smiles, kisses him on his cute balding forehead and says, "Honey, that wasn't our baby. Our baby is still coming. "

I've re-quoted that a million times to friends who were trying to conceive, and wiped tears from girlfriends eyes after negative pregnancy tests and chemical pregnancies and lost babies.

That wasn't the baby you were going to get to raise. Your baby is still coming.

My baby is still coming too.



This post was sickeningly positive, and in order to even the score, I'd like to say that someone said something nasty to me about my relationship with Matt that pissed me off. So there. (sticks tongue out.) It all evens out. I'm still glass half empty after all!

Milwaukee

I can't even spell the town's name but I might move there!! I got into graduate school!!! Marquette University accepted me!!

And now I am TOTALLY CONFUSED!

I applied to around six schools, and my top were Oregon, Denver and Greensboro. Marquette is a really good, historic university and I NEVER thought I'd get in.

But somehow I did!

I opened the very thin, empty feeling envelope last night and was absolutely floored. I cried, screamed, shrieked, fell to my knees, danced around. I could NOT have been more elated!

Then I wondered out loud, "Why in the heck did these people let me in?? Were they HIGH??!"

lol

My dad said basically the same thing. LOL

We concurred they want my money.

At a minimum, I am definitely going to graduate school now. That question is answered. I am in somewhere, I am GOING. And Marquette is a great school! I would be proud to go there. If I didn't get in anywhere else, this is still terrific.

And therein lies the problem. I'm starting to hesitate about my plan. Marquette really IS a good school, and should I pass up that opportunity because these other schools are closer to where I live right now and are cheaper? That I should pass up the chance to get an education from that school because it's got a lot of snow? Is that ridiculous logic or what?

And then I am reminded that University of Oregon is a public school and is not so fancy and I look at their loud colors and their crazed foot ball fans and I... hesitate. And I look at Marquette's academic programs and 120+ year history and I... feel confused.

A friend of mine is attending graduate school and her perspective is to just "get the degree, doesn't matter where it's from."

But that's not my perspective. I was disappointed in my undergraduate experience. I want to attend a school I am proud to be a part of. I want the campus pride, I want to wear the sweatshirt and go to the games, I want people to not sneer with "Oh it's just X, school, they're not very good," which has been my experience with my undergraduate school. It's a commuter school. It was fine, I got a good education and I worked hard for it, but... ehhhh. I only applied to one college and I never tried in high school. That's not the experience I want this time around. I want to attend a school where people come from all over to go to it, that has a good academic reputation, and that people are proud they went to it. Like Harvard, but for normal folks. Ya know?

That's part of the experience for me. If I *just* wanted a degree, I could do that online. But this is about the experience. Meeting people, being on campus; I'd like to be on an older, historic campus that's pretty to look at. All of those kinds of things. I want the CLASSIC experience. If I am going to go suffer in the basement of some research library for the next two years, I want it to be a pretty one.

So I'm feeling... confused.

This isn't really leading anywhere.

Except, I am feeling like it's more important than ever that I need to go visit these schools, walk around, get a feel for the campuses, meet the people, meet the people in the department, talk to people (can you believe it? ME talk to people???!), and finances are going to be a huge issue with that. I looked up tickets to Wisconsin and it was like $500 roundtrip. That's an issue. I don't have that and business is so slow.. I don't know what's going on.

I'm sort of stumped.

I WON!

Okay, so not literally. :) More in a spiritual sense.

I went into this lawsuit with the goals of taking back my power, confronting my abuser, creating a public record, speaking articulately and clearly and I did all of that. I won the day I testified, despite the hiccups. No matter what, he still got his a** dragged into court to explain why he did what he did. TRUE. He may have lied under oath, and perjured himself, and he may be a pedophile, but he has at least experienced some annoyances for the things he has done and not completely gotten away with it. He should be relieved I did not return Judge Judy's bajillion phone calls.

Early last week I called the court to check in because it was 8 weeks last Thursday since I testified and we were supposed to hear after about 3-4 weeks. I left a message for the clerk and told her to please not tell me the result in any messages, but please give me an update. She called back and said that the other clerk was typing it up at that moment and it would go out in the mail that day.

As I do in any moment of crisis, I ran right out and did something drastic to my hair. Since I had just dyed it the week before, I chopped it off and got bangs.

 

I was going for Zooey DesChanel... I felt more like Miss Frummpy, and then a little bit like Samantha Parkington, and then I had a good hair day, and then blah... I'm working on my bang skills.

 

The letter came sometime at the end of the week and I got my hands on it Saturday. I wanted to do something symbolic because I have been wanting to do anything symbolic this whole time. With past therapists we've discussed funerals, balloon releases, letter writing (I've done that many times), burning stuff, plate smashing... But nothing ever happened, or the things that I did do weren't satisfying.  This time I needed something to close the circle. I kidded at first, but it was important. I tried to coordinate a large group, but with so many different schedules it was too hard, and while at one point it could have been like 10 or more people standing out in a field with me and 10+ people on the phone lines there ended up being just four of us, two in person, two on the phone.

 

My friend Angie and I drove out to a friend a few minutes from my house where I have done some work stuff and I set up my little fruit crate I use for baby shoots.

 

 

 

The letter from the court, matches, and THE picture I carried into the house that day and handed to Matt's wife. After she finished shoving it into his face and screaming at him, she handed it back to me, saying she "didn't want it" and I said I didn't want it either, and folded it into fourth's, stuffing it in my pocket. When I got home I threw it on my piano and it's sat there ever since, save for a couple trips to therapy.

 

We called the long distance people on the phone and got started.

 

 

I had played with this idea of burning the picture of Matt and I, or burning Matt's face off and burying me. I repeated this idea to a few friends, but they screeched at me, "DONT BURY YOURSELF!!!!" And I said, "No, no, it's not a bad thing, it's a good thing, there's some metaphor here I can't quite articulate yet, but I know there's something there..." I tried for a whole "rise from the ashes" like Stefano from Days of our Lives, but nobody seemed to believe me. Hmmmmm.

Anyway, so on the way there I was just STRUCK(Or as the Mormons tell me "prompted"- Would that fall under the same usage of the term? I understand the general usage as "guidance," but just wondering if this is the same. Anyway...)

Sometime last spring my friend Nicole was prompted to send me a care package. The idea just occurred to her and she felt I needed it. She sent me some treats and this talk from the LDS General Conference about Forget Me Nots. She included a copy of the talk, and a pretty copy of a quote from the talk, and a package of seeds. From the talk:

You must be compassionate and patient with yourself. 
The people you think are perfect are NOT. (The crowd laughs. lol This is an important point to note for ME given my constant comparisons to the life I believed I was missing out on.)

Some sacrifices are better than others.

Be happy now.

You are loved.
Do not abandon hope.

 

You may at times feel a little like the forget-me-not—insignificant, small, or tiny in comparison with others. I hope (the forget-me-not) will be a symbol of the little things that make your lives joyful and sweet.”

 

Elder Uchtdorf

 

You can watch the talk here as well:

I appreciated the gift at the time (Okay I totally bawled to just be remembered, and it just felt so poignant how forgotten and unimportant I am to my own family and how welcomed I have been by my Utah "family."

But I didn't really get it, until this moment.

I was driving, and this moment, driving to this field, trying to process what was going on, and trying to figure out the burying my picture in this field thing and then I just GOT IT.

I wasn't BURYING myself.

I was PLANTING myself.

I was the forget me not.

I was going to take this picture.

Sever this evil part of my life from me ever more.

And plant this old part of me in the earth to grow into something new.

Because I don't want to be that person anymore.

I miss her, and I don't blame her. It wasn't her fault. She didn't see this coming. She was an innocent.

But I don't ever want to be there again.

So, I would plant her, and let her grow. And she won't be forgotten. But she will grow into something new and beautiful and wonderful.

I got it.

Took me awhile, but I'm slow. Thank you Nicole. I got it.

I talked about the Forget me nots with everyone who was there and on the phone, and then Maren prayed. She prayed for me, and the situation and most importantly she prayed for Sydney and the children. I had felt okay until this point but then I cried. I feel terrible for them. They are trapped. They will probably always be trapped. And they have nothing but my sympathy. They deserve so much more and they don't even know it. Maren called him evil and I had never thought about that like that, but she is right. He is. He is an evil person. You can't fix that. They deserve so much more. I cried for her. Not for me, but for her.

I felt for the longest time that I was robbed of my life. I lost my partner, my home, my children, my entire life.

No.

I got my life back.

I am going to go to graduate school. (Knock on wood.) I am going to move to a new place and start a new life, a new, exciting one. I will meet new people, travel and do exciting things. I will be educated and do fun things.

She will remain trapped. Even he- he has maintained the status quo. Yes, he has a high income, but what is the quality of life in a home filled with violence, hate and lies?

I did not lose my life. They chose to destroy theirs. I am creating a better one.

(That would be me setting his picture on fire, shredding the remnants and burying the remnants in horse shit).

We opened it. I won. No money. That's fine. I knew I wasn't likely to win anyway. I believed in my case, but my lawyer prepped me it was unlikely. And that wasn't my goal. I wanted to protected his victims. I am happy. My dream was to be free. I feel free. If I had received a judgment, we would have been dragged back to court for months for appeals. That's not free.

I am happy.

...Off to plant myself ...

"No matter how dark your days may seem. No matter how insignificant you may feel.... No matter how overshadowed you may think you may be. You have not been forgotten.... You are  loved with an infinite love."

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