Leaving The Worry

It's a funny feeling to not have the weight of a big worry anymore after it pushes you down for months. 

By habit, I still intermittently go back to the brain fuck of wondering where me and him are and where we stand and how he feels and not knowing. I've known for over a week now that we're on the same page.  

We're together and don't want to be with other people. We know this works but don't know what the future holds. He now knows my indecision of marriage and kids and I know now he's insecure and scared of getting older. We recognize that we each have things to work through independently but aren't letting it get in the way of where we are now. Life is too short and complicated to let the future muddle the now.

I went through getting stuck in a 'mental emergency landing position' this time last year so I know the procedure of how to get out of it by now.  It takes time to get out of a negative thought pattern. It's like anything else, practice.

But I have all the answers I need right now and my present is like a present. I get to enjoy it and not get stuck in the 'what if' cycle. I'm not saying it's perfect but there's something peaceful about not having the 'what if's' clog my brain. 

I spent the last 24 hours with him at his place. Talking, eating, laughing, sleeping/not sleeping ;)

And thoughts of worry got in a few times but then I kindly told them to leave. They were in the past. Sure, different ones will show up in the future but for now they can go stand out in the cold. I have someone now, who holds my hand and care if I'm cold or warm. 

I still take it day to day because nothing is guaranteed. If the last few years have taught me anything it's to not jump into anything and if something seems too good too be true, it typically means the good isn't true. 

So in my mind, if something actually is good and you have confirmation it's true, that doesn't mean you invite him home for the holidays, it means you just kiss a little longer.

Just call me Mandy Moore

If I could be any female celebrity I'd be Mandy Moore. 

I'm not ashamed to say I like her tweets, her music and most of her movie choices. 
Judge me if you will but I think every one has a celebrity alter ego and she's mine.

But right now I'm kind of itching to not be in her fictional skin. 

If you've seen Because I Said So this will make SO much more sense but regardless, enjoy.

Mom, text: Hi. Don't ask questions. 
What was the name of the broker you dated a few years ago? Was it Jason?

Me: What? No, it was Kevin. Why?

silence.

Me: Mom?

Next came a call from my mom. I answered hesitantly.

Me: What are you doing?

Mom: I found a 27 year old broker named Jason on JDate and I think he'd be perfect for you.

Me: silence.

Me: (stuttering for five minutes) 
Why are you looking at 27 year olds on JDate?

Mom: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's fine.
Go to bed, it's late.

Me: Mom...please stop. Please. Mom?  (more stuttering)

Mom: I have to go now. Goodbye. (hangs up)

Me, text to mom: Can you please stop being Diane Keaton now?

Mom: You may be pleasantly surprised. You can thank me later. HAGN.

(end scene)

And yes, my mother created her own text slang for Have a good night. 

The After (the vodka edition)

I wish there was a book that explains that after part of love.  
And maybe I’ll have to write about it one day, if I make it far enough into it.
From my experience in between tweets and texts...I really don’t think anyone says ‘And do you love me’ anymore...and then break into song about being married for twenty-five years with Jewish daughters. (Fiddler on the Roof for those who missed it.)
Most of us forget that men and woman think completely different of each other. 
Not even an easy, multi-equation polar opposite...but according to Venus and Mars...different. 
And when drinking is involved, the difference gets bigger.

But both of us learn grammar the same.
So when midnight chimes on a Friday, 
while standing on a crowded platform 
and a vodka filled girl (ahem, me) says these words: 
“So...I’ve been thinking about the us...and I didn’t want to be the one to talk about the we. But I want to know your thoughts...it’s been 4 months and we’ve been hanging out as a we...but as an us. I just think we should. I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. I hate talking about the we...” 

...I wish I was paraphrasing but I think that’s almost exactly how I brought up the inevitable conversation.

He looked down at me as the train was coming and held me closer. There was a smile in his voice when he spoke next.
“I really don’t think this is the time or place for this.”

I knew he was right but I hated that I was wrong since I had been (over) thinking about it so much. 
I pouted and probably swayed a little to make sure I was still standing.
He asked me what I expected him to say right then and there.
“Something simple, something neat and simple and quick. I hate talking about this.”
I explained in between subway stops as I bumped against him.
I made a drunken sad face, immediately regretting whatever I said, “Did I even make a full sentence?”

He kissed me and kept hold of me.
“Don’t freak out. This just isn’t the place.”
I moved my facial expression a hundred times.
“Don’t freak out. I’ll talk to you soon.”
He kissed me again and again. I didn’t want to let go.
“Your mom is in town tomorrow. We’ll talk. I’m kissing you to reassure you that it’ll be OK.”
I kissed him back and let go...

A Pocket of Time

It was not a normal Monday. 
He had just cooked us dinner and as we sat down to eat at his new dining room table,
we lost electricity.
Without missing a beat he was up lighting candles and turning on flashlights.

The reality of the devastation that the storm would bring wouldn’t fully hit me until the end of the week when I was back in my own apartment watching the news.
Until then, we were in a bubble.

By Wednesday work would be fully cancelled for the week and not on a day to day basis.
Electricity and trains would slowly start being restored.
Until then though I was very much aware that this scenario was a fantasy come true for me.

It was my beginning of a rom com.
That great bonding montage you never think will happen in real life..
the elevator you get stuck in with the cute stranger,
the three day road trip you end up doing last minute with your crush.

Time that is given to you so you can just be you with someone you care about,
and nothing else getting in the way.

We had no lights, phones, cable or internet.
We had beer and wine and books and board games.
We told each other stories.
We asked each other questions.
We flirted and played.
We had the kind of good sex you really only have while on vacation in a hotel room far away from real life.

And I knew it wasn’t real.

The stress of work and family drama would come back.
We’d be two people again trying to fit in each other's lives and figure out where we stand.

But in those 5 days, even though I wore no makeup and his pajamas everyday,
I liked how we fit together.
Though I missed hot showers and my contacts
and my books and my own bed and lip gloss,
I liked how we fit together.

It could’ve been the circumstances of Sandy finally putting us in the same space
or it could’ve been us becoming the good part of us again.

Later I’d feel lucky. Absolutely lucky and guilty. From this storm I got a staycation with candles and good sex, while others had their life destroyed.

If you are able to, please donate whatever you can.

Blockage

Sometimes I really don't like still being single as I creep into my late 20s. I'm becoming smarter and listening to my women's intuition more (WI). I'm turning out to be right about things more often than not...especially men. Some mysteries are becoming clearer while others just fuzzier.

Four/five years ago I was deeply hung up and obsessed with the mystery of 'the disappearing guy after the amazing first date'. There was probably a couple Friends and Sex In the City episodes about it.
I had a good number of them in my early 20s and rather than dealing with it straight on I would typically just turn dates into casual hookups. Yeah..that was me 20-24 until I fell for my Ex.

For awhile- because of him I didn't have to worry about first dates and I was in love. Then after the breakup I started seeing the Brit but made it clear I didn't want to actually see him. I was done with being emotionally involved. I just wanted physical comfort and no drama. A hookup with an accent. 

It worked for awhile until I was ready to date again. Still, nothing serious stuck. I didn't mind though. After a few years of dodging the hard emotional stuff I became pretty good at ducking.

And now as I wade in and out of still casual hookups while trying to figure out what I want from my Ex and where we stand...the emotional block is still there whether I like it or not. And it could potentially ruin next steps with my Ex...if there are even next steps. 
My WI is telling me there aren't and I should keep wading.

It's an every day mental battle that I resolve right before I go to bed in a different way. If he gives me attention and plans for the future I realize I want to be with just him and want to be his girlfriend. 
I want the nonsense and gray zone to stop.
If I don't get the attention I want then I decide to text the Brit to distract myself or say yes to a new setup. I remind myself to be present and not rush into anything. Be happy with having him in my life and take the small baby steps.

I don't know what I want. And though I chose to let him back in my life romantically and very unsure and uneasy of what's going to happen...I need to accept being OK with not knowing what I want or I'm just going to continue to torture myself. 

The mystery of why he sent this text has been solved. I really only spent 2 minutes thinking about it and now it's done. I mean, wouldn't you say this to me if I had cancelled on you twice and was 20 mins late for the first date...
"Sorry I've been such a flake. I think you're sweet but I'm not interested in taking things further. Hope you're OK with that."

Am I OK with that? I don't have a choice. I blocked him before I even met him. 

Home Space

I didn’t fully realize I was running away until I had started packing. 

I had booked my train ticket at work that afternoon just minutes after I got approval to take Friday and Monday off. Work was slow. 

I was bored and had days to use.
 

On my way back to my apartment that night, as I walked down the subway stairs I tripped and almost fell. While I was still gripping onto the railing a witness to my trip walked past me and laughed at me. I yelled at him ‘It’s not funny’. My frustration grew and he turned to  me and said ‘What?’ as if I was being rude to interrupt his mocking of me. 

I continued down the stairs and mumbled ‘Never mind.’

I was too tired to fight back. I let the City win this round. 

In revenge, I had pizza for dinner and tried to relax. As I was packing I realized how tired I was and how much I needed a break.

I was tired of being bored at work and feeling like I was being underused and not challenged and having 20 mentally freak outs a day about being pigeon hold and stuck.

I was tired of asking myself what I wanted from my Ex- if anything...if less, if more.
If I’d get the courage to ask him what he wanted.

I was tired of wondering why this guy didn’t text me back after he told me he wanted to see me again. 

I concluded later that he got kidnapped my pirates and then sold to gypsies.

I was tired of pondering if I should still be in NYC or anywhere else but here...

So I left.

I cancelled all my plans for the weekend. Including time with the Ex, a bar crawl and volunteering.

While waiting for my mom to pick me up at the bus stop, a (too) young gas station attendant asked if I wanted to wait inside since it was cold out.
I explained I had just been on a train/bus for hours and needed some air, my mom was picking me up soon.
He nodded at me politely and said casually, ‘Yeah, everyone gets homesick.’

Just a few months from my 28th birthday and I realized I was homesick.

I missed that security- my home- that has changed a thousand times in the last 5 years but was always still left standing, no matter where my actual house was. 

It's like that great quote from Garden State:

"You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone...
You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist... I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place."

I missed my family smiling at me and seeing me just as I was in the present moment and not forcing me to define any of the above.

At one point over the weekend while my mom smiled at me as I watched TV on the couch, she exclaimed:

“Sometimes I think you should just move back home.
But then I realized you probably would never get married if you did...so I guess it’s OK.”

I laughed and admitted that sometimes I think about it too but then explained I’d have to actually drive a car though
and no one on the road wants to witness that. So I’ll stick with public transportation.

My Monday night I was exhausted, but this time physically. I had spent 4 days on either a bus or train riding around the state making sure I saw everyone.

I knew I had a lot waiting for me but as I got off the train and walked into the misty streets of midtown, I felt for at least a few minutes that I could take care of everything. 

Maybe just one step at a time.

Besides, this was all mine. I left home to have this independence and separate life. It’s not always going to be the way I want it.
But that’s why I’m here and not in the safeness of home: to take on my own messiness and enjoy the ride no matter how up and down it is. 

Even if things get worse, I know I can always step off, go hide for a few days and eat my mom's mashed potatoes with a giant wooden spoon.

Connect Two

Alright so we have text message and email and the entire Internet to connect any two people in the world so why is it so hard to feel connected to someone whose been in your life for 4 years?
 
Let’s face it that the majority of 2010 and 2011 I was waiting for my Ex to come back.

Then smack in the middle of 2012 after I assumed his train had left the station, he anchored his row boat next to me again.

Mixed transportation metaphor but you get it. He came back and forced himself in to my life.

And for one brief moment I felt like I had just scored The Point of the game.
We’ve been dribbling in each other’s courts since early July.

I apparently love all metaphors when I’m tired. Bare with me.

When I’m with him everything is good and he’s affectionate and attentive.
Two very important things. 
The basis of any good relationship.
The pattern we’ve fallen into is being together Saturday nights to Sunday- we have a proper date and then either he stays over or I go out to his place. 
It turned into our date night.

But our timing has been off the last few weeks and I haven’t seen him.
He’s been overwhelmed with work or described his schedule as messy.

He’s offered me Sundays recently. I volunteer on Sunday afternoons which he seemed to forget about. And I don’t really want to be penciled in between 7-9pm on a Sunday.

No one is in a datey mood on Sunday nights, no matter who the date is with.
OK- well if Ryan Gosling wanted a Sunday night of course I would rally and oblige.

Again, this weekend he offered me Sunday since he had a friend’s birthday party on Saturday night. Didn’t extend the invite to me.
I told him (text of course) Sundays won’t work for me so we’ll hopefully figure something else out.
He replied with a joke about cursing his friend’s parents so he didn’t have to go to this birthday. I didn’t reply.

Is he doing the bare minimum here or is it just me?
His actions are saying a lot. I know he’s been working till 9/10pm each night but come on- if he wanted a girlfriend at this point wouldn’t I feel more girlfriendy and solid in his life?
 
He's 36 going on 37, I feel like if he wants a romantic weekly buddy and not a girlfriend he should use Match.com.
There’s been no phone calls. Maybe one or two in 3.5 months.

I get texts checking in during the week and of course the daily email with an entertaining cat link. Sometimes dog.
I wonder what relationships were like before fucking cats made their way to youtube.
I bet people got laid more.

What do I want, you may ask? I want his next big move. 
It's like he's holding my hand but not very well. 
Don't pick up the ball again if you aren't ready to play.
He could be just as jaded and guarded as me, but come on man- grow a pair and get in the game.

P.S... I finally went out on that date last night. Applause.
And honestly it was great to meet someone new. 
I rate the entire date a strong B+ and would go out with him again.
He was present and honest and funny. And tall.
He also cleaned his glasses twice during dinner which I thought was totally adorable. (ahem, Giles)
I started thinking what a MASSIVE plot twist it would be if now that I suddenly have my Ex back on the same dock as me, I end up wanting to be with someone else.

Adult Moves

I’ve decided to move out of the City  
and it’s the biggest adult decision I’ve ever made, well not including deciding to wear lipstick to work.

I’ll be saving over $400 a month and finally, for the first time in 5 years, stop living paycheck to paycheck.

Also I'll have twice the living space.

I’ll be able to do that crazy thing called ‘save money’.

I’ll have a commute for the first time since college but I’m actually OK with it. I always liked riding the train and analyzing people. 

So now I get to do it for 30 minutes at a time.

Plus I'll be able to read on the train! (Oooh)

I actually haven’t gone out with that guy yet. 

I’ve cancelled on him twice.

The first time- I told him I had to go look at apartments (lie) but then I ended up having to work late.

The second time- I told him I had to work late (lie) but then I went home and fought with Time Warner Cable via Chat for three hours.

Apparently I’m OK with doing anything else besides going out on this date.

Maybe I’m just waiting till things calm down after I move to go out with this guy.

Or maybe I’m waiting for things to become clearer with the Ex.

Or maybe I just don’t want to go out with him.

Right now I see the Ex once a week- we have a proper date and then an adult sleepover. We email/text every day.

I know I want more, I’m just not sure how to get it.

That being said I’m not sure how much more I even want. 

Why isn't Cosmo or Marie Claire coming out with an article about this? Come on ThoughtCatalog.com this is basic crisis material here.

I know he’s on my team and cares about me. 

I have a great view of the City from my office and soon I'll have a quiet, new neighborhood to explore. 

For now, while I move forward and Fall begins, maybe that's all I need and I can wait till there's a layer of leaves on the ground to sort out the other things that may need moving (ahem! job, relationship status, grad school apps). 

Okay, fine- maybe I'll need a pack of cigarettes and a bottle or two of wine to get me through this move but regardless, I'll get there.

Potential Pull

On the train ride back my 2nd overnight at the Ex's apartment, I checked my voicemail. 

I had a message from a friend's college friend asking me out for drinks this week. I had never met him. I agreed to my friend passing my number along weeks ago before this guy had moved into the city. 
Now he was here. 

It was the Ex and mine's 7th date this past weekend. 
Things are going well. 
The physical spark is still there and our conversation was great. We brought up old inside jokes and had new ones. I still sometimes got nervous and butterflies. 
Still getting used to sharing a physical space with him and having him host me. 

I'm more aware of us becoming a We then I was last time. Then, the rose-colored glasses were glued to my face. Now I feel emotionally over stimulated by it all and this 'in between' pre- DTR stage is slowly starting to get to me. 

Last night while I lay beside him I had a dream that he was dating some crazy girl while starting things back up with me. He was begging for my forgiveness and told me things with the crazy girl started going south as he started seeing me. He told me he loved me and just wanted to wine and dine me. 

In real life he's said the latter to me. 
I don't need to hear that he loves me. 
It's too early for that. But I do need something now that it's been almost 2 months since we hit the On button on our story again. 
I want it without asking for it, which less face it- isn't going to happen since guys can't read minds. 
He won't know that I need a temperature check until I ask one. 
Any ideas how? 

Something in between a 5th grader asking 'Do you want to be my boyfriend? Circle yes or no.' and an adult's overly exposed 'Where do you see us going?'

I don't want to feel exposed and I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable. I want to know that as we continue to share physical time and space, that I'm not emotionally in that space alone.
I need to know I can let go of other potential ties and just hold on to him.

Until then, though even my subconscious hates the idea of the Ex dating, I'm not sure I can say no to a date.
I know it will pull me in a direction I don't want...
but I'm not tied down yet.

Light Bulb

You know how when a light goes out but then for the next hour you still try to turn the light on? I get stuck in that emotional mental mind game about boys. And I don’t realize it till I see my friends do it and call it out to them.

We get trapped in the circle of ‘what if’s and ‘should I’s’. See last post. :)

What if he’s sleeping with other people? What if he doesn’t care for me how I care for him? 

Should I text him when he hasn’t text me all day? Should I go out on a date? 
I could go on for days.

Today a friend reminded me, that it really doesn’t matter what he does or what I think I should do. 

It’s about what I want.

And suddenly I reminded the other half of my brain there’s nothing I can do about the light until I get it fixed. 
My mind is fighting with the fact that it’s broken. 

I’m not comparing a broken light to my relationship. 

I’m comparing it to how we think and manage to complicate things so easily and quickly by fighting against what we already know.

I answered the question. 

I want a couple good friends who love me after seeing me at my worst and can pick up their phone to listen to me drunk cry at 1am and still meet me for brunch the next day.

I want 1 person who can make me laugh and wants to hold my hand and kiss me on street corners.

Nothing else really matters 

and there’s not much more I need to figure out right now. 

I’ll find that 1 person whether it’s my ex or the guy my  friend wants to set me up with or someone else. 

The light will turn on again, so I can tell the other half of my brain to stop fighting it and playing with switches.

(Un) Lucky # 13

We were always told that love came with sex. 

So what happens when sex is just sex and love is elsewhere...dangling along a street sign a couple zip codes away and hasn’t been officially jotted down yet?

(i.e. my new non ex and me)

Alright, I’m not trying to excuse every hussy out there. 

Just me. Because I feel shitty.

I was protecting myself. Ugh.

(blowing emotionally chunks in background)

Is this the excuse that cheaters give themselves? 

Though! (triple million explanation marks) I’m not a cheater. 

We are not locked down to each other. 

Sure, there’s been some dating and some adult sleepovers 

(one day I’ll grow up and call it sex) 

and feelings floating around all over the place 

BUT 

we are NOT exclusive.

AND just because I politely and gracefully asked him to not sleep with anyone else/tell me if he did/but don’t sleep with anyone else...does NOT mean...I can’t.

He never asked me.

SO technically all rules pertaining to me are void.

I’m just here to give him a try 

like we talked about on the 4th of July. 

(see archives, I'm too tired to link up)

No pressure on either side right?

So...

IF my best friend’s non-boyfriend’s best friend happens to be this hot Hawaiian ONLY in town for the weekend, 

CAN you really blame me? 

I mean, mentally I told him five times that I wasn’t going to sleep with him...

cause I was seeing my new non ex in 24 hours...

SO it’s not my fault that he didn’t hear me.

Ugh.

I had fun. Quit judging. 

If you have to feel bad for me, than feel bad because of the golf instructional video that was on the entire time.

What do they call that?

Osmosis?

De- Exed

You ever realize you aren’t sure what you’re doing but can’t decide if you like it or not? 

I guess we need these challenges to help us differientiate between life’s small problems and big problems. We typically solve the small problems quickly without more than a second blink in its direction. The bigger ones like to sit and stir and get pushed around.

It’s rude and annoying really. Different solutions need to stop sprouting up. Everything should remain black and white, enough of this mucky grey (gray?) business it hurts my head.

I can never remember which one is the color...

Anyways, obviously talking about the guy here...the new old guy. What’s a revived ex that’s not yet defined as a boyfriend yet? At the very least out of exile right? (bah dum ching)

I have two schools of thought on this one, so let me know where you sit Dear Reader. 

We’ve been non-definably dating for about a month now and in touch everyday. Sometimes we just joke and other times we talk. All text and email.

(I scowl at modern day technology. I never use my phone as a phone anymore. Can we please star a revolution to get the phone call back??)

This past week I was out of town on family duty. Nothing serious or major, just going in for support and assistance. 

He doesn’t know details yet of what my family dynamic has been like the past few years (note: heavy).

We haven’t dealt with really any real life stuff outside of talking about ‘us’ back on the 4th of July. 

Since then it’s been flirting, banter and then...sex and dating. 

All the good stuff. (cheers from the crowd!)

BUT...(of course there's a but)

A couple times when we were out I noticed he was texting a girl he used to hook up with. 

Not a pretty girl either, that would almost sit better with me. But this girl is a pile of a girl. 

MEN- I know it’s hard to do, but when you pick those girls to slut around with after a relationship ends, please attempt to trade up. Cause when we meet them down the road (AKA facebook stalk) it’s an insult to us knowing that the penis was in both places (paradise...and then a trash dump).

Anyways, I saw her name pop up a few times while we've been out. 

I couldn’t see the texts. 

He says he’s not sleeping with anyone else but it’d really skeeve me out to find out they were still sleeping together. 

Maybe they’re just dating and not sleeping together

or friends...like maybe she’s dating someone else now and they just text? 

Pipe dream? Beuller...?

Again, we aren’t exclusive so he can technically do what he wants and lie to me about it. 

But then it’s a question of respect and all that jazz. 

And I'd be pissed if he didn't tell the truth and turn green and grow and beat him up cause even getting here was hard.

SO- I have 2 options or more if you wanna chime in team. 

1. ignore any and all texts from females I see and continue to feel amazing when I’m with him and take it all day by day. And work towards trusting him just as things are. And perhaps shack up with the Brit if there’s more reason to thing he is sleeping with other girls. *But for pete's sake (and mine) get tested first cause who knows where his pepe has been.
2. open up a little bit and explain that between work and the occasional family drama, I don’t have time to wonder about all the above things and nor do I want to, so we’re either going to lock this thing down and be exclusive or not cause I'm a busy girl and don't like taking up the Sunday brunch table with this silly stuff Bridget Jones would scoff at. 

And go!

A Good Slice

Friday night he asked to spend the night at my place (since it was late...yeah, right). 

We had been out with a few friends watching the Opening Ceremonies. 

He said he’d be respectful so I figured it’d be another night like this. 

But what can I say...I’m apparently irresistible in booty shorts. (sly smile)

We then hooked up from 1am-6 and I’m still having delicious flash backs from it. We stayed in bed the next morning and I’ve never had such trouble leaving my bed after 11am before. There was no other place I wanted to be. I was literally entwined in him and couldn’t stop smiling. We got breakfast and had one of those annoyingly great goodbye kisses.

So rather than taking it slow, we moved ahead a notch but talked about it the next day. 

It happened...we want it to happen again but need to stay in check. The emotional/trust component still needs to build up to a good solid place. 

Emotional paperwork aside...I hadn’t been held or touched or adored or wanted like that...since him. I know what you’re thinking blogger buddies...and here’s the thing...

This will probably end in pain right? Everyone and their mother has their guard up for me. Warning me about the guy who he was/is and what happened last time. 

But here’s the other thing, if you’ve been reading closely the last few years you’ve realized that outside of my love life, I’ve had my share of pain between work drama and friend/family ups and downs. 

That whole growing up thing? Yeah, it’s been happening non stop the last 5 years and it’s come with a cruise boat size of pain. Actually...more like the size of the Titanic and the iceberg combined. Needless to say, I’m used to pain, expect it and more or less know how to tread in it and I know it’ll come again, whether from him or anywhere else. 

So I’m going to keep going and inhaling the good moments I have with him. 

His touch makes me feel safe, and grounded and sexy as hell. And when I’ve had that slice of the pie empty for so long, it’s absolutely fucking lovely to have it filled with him right now. 

The 2nd Bottle

The best part of disconnecting for a week is reconnecting again. 

I took a real week long vacation for the first time in a long time. I was on the beach in the Bahamas for 5 nights with a friend and then home visiting family. And overall it was a great trip. 

Little to no drama, and little to no planning. 

I was in dire need of a break from both. 

I planned my flights but everything in between I just wung. 

I wung so much in the Bahamas I ended up having a night of fun with a Texan algebra teacher in the hot tub...and the beach. He also taught me how to play craps and helped me amp up my blackjack game. The gambling part isn’t an innuendo, we went gambling. Luckily I didn’t have a repeat of the last time I hit the casinos, though there were white russians involved again.

I had a great moment the next morning, as my hangover subsided with fried fish... I wondered if my mother would approve of my night. All in all, I believe I would get a thumbs up from her.

By the time I got back into town I was ready to be back in my own reality. And here's why...

This past New Years Eve I went to this party and only brought 1 bottle of champagne. I had bought another bottle but left it in my fridge. 

I told myself I'd open it when I had a win. I'd open it when something happened for me, something I went for for me, something I deserved and wanted. It couldn't be pre-arranged or really thought about, when I was going to open that bottle.

But every time I opened my fridge for the past 7 months I'd think about that bottle. 

And I wouldn't open it. 

Nothing happened that warranted it to be popped open. 

After spending most of 2010 blaming/unblaming myself for the ending of my relationship, and most of 2011 submerged in family drama, my next move was going to be made carefully. 

I opened it 4th of July at the rooftop party I went to with some friends. 

Earlier that morning around 1am, I was on another roof with my ex boyfriend deciding to go for another round. 

I know what you're thinking...how could I pop my bottle for a guy...especially this guy.  

But I didn't open it for him, I opened it for me.

Because after 2 years I had changed and forgiven myself for a lot of things and had been through enough. 

I was done letting all the bad, hard shit own me. I was done with letting it all be all there is. 

I was ready to take a chance on the possibility of something good again.

I realized if I keep thinking about the last few years and the muck I got stuck in, and waiting for the muck to appear again, that's all there'd be. 

So, yes, technically it took beer, pizza, my ex boyfriend and a rooftop for me to realize I was ready to open the 2nd bottle and see how it poured.

So far, it's smooth, sweet and a little bubbly.