Revelations 4:20
Apparently 2010 is the year of revelations for me. Revelations in the department of romance. I know you’re all sick of this subject but just stay with me.
A few years ago I realized one of my errors in dating was the type of man I was choosing. My mother referred to this type as ‘milk toast’. I am sure there are several reasons for this but no point in listing them as this is no longer a type that I find attractive. And, I’ve gotten quite good at spotting one of these right away out of fear of wasting additional time in my life; trying to make moths into butterflies. But, it was a friend that recently pointed out to me that I have a tendency to like men that don’t treat me well. If you know me, you’d know this is truly out of character compared to everything else about me. Though it stung to hear that (and she offered to be my cheerleader if I needed but felt it was better to be my friend), she was right. It is the little things they do, more often than naught, out of self-preservation and unintentionally, it’s the little disrespects that they pay me. I forget along the way that I am deserving of something better, that I have worth and if I see it then someone else will.
So I’ve spent four going on five years single. I’ve processed my milk toast phase. I’ve grieved for the loss of my father. I’ve had a rough start to this year and I don’t know if I want another eight months or more of this but I suppose if it is in the name of being okay with the one in the glass, then it is okay with me.
Pink Bunny-Mixed Tap-Murder City Devils-Fire
You hurt. Though I know you didn’t mean to. It was like meeting someone you know is supposed to be in your life but for the second time you still managed not to get it right. If things were different, then we’d be different, but they’re not. So we remain the same way we were. Apart. I miss you.
Blockbuster-Too Young/Too Old-Warmth
I’m glad we had that talk…and I’m glad that I can actually call you ‘friend’.
Dimples-Green Scarf-Portishead-Joan
St. Patrick’s Day, that’s when I met you. Outside of the alcohol and my recent bruised heart, you were and to me are, genuinely interesting. Some time was spent, food was enjoyed, laughs were had. You weren’t looking for anything (but really you are, and that’s the courage to change what you can). I was simply wanting to be in the moment, because that’s all anyone really has. No expectations but still… My honesty, I’m certain, made you uncomfortable. But you made me realize (as we are far more similar than you think) that when one’s baggage becomes a crutch which then becomes an excuse to not take risks. Then, it is no longer a lesson learned, rather one not valued. Change comes from within, always. You’re smart enough to know this. I hope that you are brave enough to live this. And I do hope to see you again, despite all of this. I had an odd dream about you. I was in your apartment (thank the gods you finally cleaned that kitchen up) staring at your bathroom floor I noticed a pair of brown swimming trunks (O’Neil brand), lying on the floor in a heap, slightly damp. Yeah, I don’t think I quite get it either.
At McCoy’s, following a Sounders game on Saturday (Suz and Pat having just left to go home) I was standing at the bar cashing out my tab when someone put their hand on my shoulder. I’m not as accustomed to others in my space so of course I tensed reading myself to bring the wrath of the furies down on this person. It was a man who I had seen sitting at the bar for the duration of my post-game celebration. He looked at me and asked, “Are you alone?” I must have given him the oddest series of looks, which he could not decipher so he felt the need to ask me again, “Are you alone?” My reply, “I’m simply cashing my tab out, please leave me be.” He did not hear me or did and simply felt that what he had to say was important regardless. He then said “Because…you are beautiful. And you won’t always be alone.” And there is was, right there. A punch in the gut I wasn’t expecting. The walls slammed into place, I took my copy and walked out without another word. In went the iPod ear buds, on went the sunglasses and there I stood in the rain, waiting for the bus, starting to cry. I barely held it together during the ride home. I used the Phone-A-Friend to find someone to hear me.
To sum up why I reacted so strongly, after telling this story to my friend Sue, I feel she said it best. “I wouldn’t want another that didn’t know and love me to say that”. It has no value coming from a stranger and doesn’t make me feel that I have any worth outside of my beauty. That (though my beauty has done me NO favors in the romance department) beauty is the key to apparently not being alone. But then, when I used my Phone-A-Friend, I found one. And, she listened. And, when I emailed my friends because I was needing to be heard, I was…and, I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
I have a lot of people looking out for me. I have a lot of people that love me. I have a lot of people that want me to become what I am supposed to be and that now includes me.