what could possibly go wrong?

Is there a bridge nearby that I can go fling myself off of?  I'm so fucking tired of declaring that I am happy, only to witness a split second that devastates everything and rakes me over the hottest, sharpest coals.

And let's add some fatigue to it, too.  How about not sleeping an entire night, rehearsing the very words I dread saying and with no respite from my discomfort.

Then, why don't we empower me to stick up for my pathetic self esteem, to set my boundaries and stick to them.  Let's fuel my resolve to demand more than mere crumbs, to stop openly taking whatever pittance I can get.

Let's lead me to someone, with whom I could easily and rapidly fall head over heels in love, and then challenge me with his immense baggage, his broken heart, his child from a previous marriage, and his sense of failure.  Furthermore, challenge me with his detachment and reluctance to invest himself emotionally.  And finally, challenge me with his deliberate kindness, likability, handsomeness, integrity, honesty, passion, affectionate nature, and obvious attraction to me.

And I couldn't make it last more than three goddamned weeks.

I told him I couldn't be a rebound, that I'm worth more than that.  He's been asking me specifically what I want, and I couldn't answer until this morning; I want to keep him.  I like him too much to do something casual or slow or detached, and I'm far too open and sensitive emotionally to hide any increasing feelings while he maintains that he can't meet any greater expectations.  I told him that if I felt like I was on standby, liking him more and more, I would probably debase myself by inadvertently trying to convince him of my worthiness.  I told him I wasn't interested in sharing him with other people from the dating website where we met.  For those reasons, I suggested that I leave him to do whatever he needs to do to heal for however long, and if he felt like trying again with me, he should see if I'm around.

He was so open to hearing it, he wrapped his arms around me in bed and kissed the top of my head.  He said it seemed like an easy way out of getting hurt, and I agreed.  He told me how cool and thoughtful I was, how attractive and sexy he finds me.  He didn't really answer me, though.  He was groggy, having only just woken up, while I'd lain awake the past 6 hours or so, and basically he fell asleep holding me tightly.  Then we woke up and made love, but he never brought it up again.

As we both left for work after hurriedly dressing and eating cereal, he hugged and kissed me, saying, "See ya later.  Take care of yourself."  Maybe he was referring to today, with my insufferable fatigue.  Maybe it was a farewell for the future.  I won't call him again.

I could love that man forever.  I'm so sad but God I hope I did the right thing.

calm waters

I'd like to start off by saying that I'm happy.  I'm exploring ways to maintain inner peace and seek strength in that peace, as well as keep my motivation for future aspirations and potential.

After burying the dead end that resulted from my brief stint with the doctor, I actually did find my center again.  I was feeling cheerful, balanced, and most of all grateful, once again.

Three weeks ago, surprisingly coinciding with my previous post on this blog, I was sent a message by someone whom at first I ignored.  I couldn't be bothered with yet another boring beau.  After revisiting this man and giving him a chance, I wrote him back and we struck up a correspondence that led to meeting for a drink by the end of that week.  It has been two weeks and I see this fireman regularly, and hear from him every day.

The more I see him, the fonder I am of his personality, witticisms, integrity and intelligence.  He is a good man.  So far he has shown me that he genuinely likes me and has no interest in playing games.  He is so tall and handsome.  He has tattoos!  On top of all that, the man likes loves my cooking!  How can I possibly resist him?!

The fireman met my best friends yesterday, and they all loved each other.  It was very comfortable and friendly, and I made us all dinner.

At the risk of succumbing to any familiar patterns, I am still attempting to take a step back and simply appreciate the moment for what it is.  I am happy.  In the central courtyard of my spirit, I am tending to a very beautiful pool of water with a still, placid surface.  It is my responsibility to keep it undisturbed by the turmoil of outside occasions.  I also take the time to sit by my pool, to take comfort in its stillness.  This is my inner peace.

thoughts wearing thoughts' hats

In my heart, I had found the perfect new house, far surpassing my expectations and well worth the cost.  I mulled it over briefly but felt so compelled by it that I couldn't stop myself from making a huge investment right away.  I sized up every room, imagined my future life and pictured filling the space with lovely things.

I purchased it, and I was deliriously happy.  I had everything arranged, it was all settled, and nothing could stop me.

One day, before I'd gotten a single personal possession in the door, something I didn't anticipate or prepare for happened.  My house, my perfect new home and my happy future, was ablaze.  It was so far along by the time I realized that it was too late to save anything.  All that was left was a pile of ash and rubble.

Devastation.  Disaster.  My heart was crushed.  I had nowhere to go.  My future happy life was impossible.  Every dream I'd conjured was a waste.

What's done is done.  It was not the only house for me, even though I was ready to settle into its nooks and crannies and find my peace within its sanctuary.  The universe doesn't make mistakes, and the house is gone. I have the choice to rebuild or go shopping again.  First I need to start saving up, and I have been set back tremendously.

Of course, this is how I can cope with heartbreak.  I give it another name.  I picture it as something else, I put a different hat on it, and I can make sense of it.  Because losing the love of someone perfect makes less sense to my heart than watching a tangible happy future burn to the ground.

I'll let this start my healing.

the Full Plate

As much as I try to understand my belief that we are all energetic beings, I cannot seem to fathom how extensive our impact on the universe around us can be.  I want to picture, for example, what message is being inferred by my general reaction to stress and my manic schedule.  Have I pulled away, or changed my sunny disposition in the eyes of others?  How did my energy change and affect those around me?

I'm sad.  I'm so very disappointed, crushed by the grief that I lost something wonderful before it could even become.  It was as if my happy future life died right before my eyes, and I didn't expect it.  Logic would point out that a doctor's schedule, especially in the first years of residency, is not conducive to a new romance.  Optimism would coo that this sort of connection is possible, at the very least, and emotional growth is inevitable.  Retrospection would chime in that I've made a great deal of progress in my efforts to get into athletic shape and stick to a healthy eating habit, motivated especially by my competitive side.

But Heartache laments over and over that I am so lonely, that I was so close to being special, so utterly devastated by emotion and loss, and so hopeless for the potential of tomorrow.  And Forgiveness wants me to set him free, let him be, and support and love him anyway.

At the same time, I'm trying so desperately to be present at work.  To not slump in my seat and neglect my students' needs and queries, and to not isolate myself from my coworkers and friends.  I need to focus and plow through massive amounts of prep work, grading, and organization, while coordinating standards and materials and engaging activities.  I need to be in a good place, emotionally and spiritually, not bitter and furious at God for giving me something potentially wonderful and joyful and then RIPPING it away.  I love my job, and I feel safe and valuable here, if only here.

I'm also trying to work on healing the broken childhood and relationship I had with my mother.  Years ago, before I was ready to confront it, my therapist recommended a book to me about surviving a life with a parent exhibiting borderline personality disorder.  I didn't feel comfortable even opening the book, though I went out and purchased it, because I was timid about diagnosing my mother with a mental illness.  After moving into my new apartment, however, I unpacked my books and came across it again.  Since my mom moved me down to Tucson, she hasn't spoken to me, and because she was so hateful during that weekend and I have been so busy, I have not been compelled to call.  Predictably, if I don't initiate contact, we don't communicate.  Typical (with more than just my mother).

After reading half way through this book, I feel mingled relief, grief, anger, injustice, understanding, acceptance, and despair.  But most of all, I believe my mother really does suffer from symptoms of BPD.  This book is helping me take the steps to recover my childhood and identify where I did not develop healthy emotional tools, so that I can heal myself.

I'm also trying to settle into a new place.  A real place, a permanent one.  My own place.  First time in years and years.  That's more than I can even describe.  I just have to wait and see.

FUCK.

Oh God, the crushing reality that I'm not in any legitimate relationship, not even a budding one.  The terrifying realization that I have single-handedly destroyed the potential for something because even my very best efforts were UTTERLY worthless.

I'm doing it all wrong.  And in my fear and panic of not being capable of a healthy relationship, I take the slightest sign of distance as the first sign of the inevitable end.  God damn you, Toby.  You've ruined me.

So, insecurities trump me once again.  I'm back where I was, just exactly where I was, overworked and underappreciated and attention-starved.  Spending my time quietly panicking in my classroom late after hours or in my new, unfamiliar apartment.

What do I need to be happy?  Seriously, what is missing?  And how do I get it?

I need a turn-around.  A complete overhaul.  Because all this failing at life is fucking miserable.

the beauty of the beholder

I'm beginning to appreciate the benefits of a slower-paced relationship.  Certainly after having some practice, this rhythm feels more doable and tolerable, though I'll admit I'm still mentally gnawing on every detail.  Acceptance, insight, and empathy make up a bigger portion of our relationship so far than I have experienced in the past.  We're both busy, though the doctor is by far more consumed by his present schedule.  I'm anticipating a major expansion of my schedule load, whereas right now I'm merely trying to prepare myself and brace for it.

This summer has been about jumping through hoops in order to secure a provisional teaching certification, prepare my classroom, train to teach AP biology, move into my own place, and in general take a bit more responsibility for my life.

I did not anticipate, but desperately wanted, the addition of a new romance in my life.  I'm struggling to not jump ahead, because then I don't seem to appreciate what I have right now.  Trying to do the "right" thing feels so very uncertain.  One thing I know for sure is that it's important to give the doctor space to develop his own life here.  I've made an effort to be supportive and helpful, without offering my services as a tour guide/personal chef/ambassador.  I consciously do not mention how much I miss him or want to see him again.  I tell him I am grateful for the time he can share with me, while his schedule is unforgiving and he has very little free time to live a life outside of his job.  It should smooth out sometime soon, but for now he needs to focus and try to recuperate as much as possible when he's off.  I'm not entitled to a moment of that off-time, so it really means a lot to me when he wants to spend it with me.  The last thing I want to be is another one of his responsibilities; I want to be a fun, relaxing, exciting, supportive haven for him.

Phase 2 is when my work schedule kicks in, and we have to contend with really funky hours on both ends.  I hope things can work out, and I think they will.  This slow-pace stuff feels more natural and so I'm wondering how long we will take to transcend to each next level; it's brand-new for both of us!

I'm running a lot this summer, which makes me happy.  I never thought I'd get back into running after I broke my ankle so badly, and that was 12 years ago.  The prospect of getting back into muay Thai in August is very exciting, especially because I've managed to stay in shape and conditioned myself for longer stamina...very important in boxing!  My legs and arms and middle seem to respond more quickly to a few days off/on my exercise regimen, which encourages me to be more disciplined because I want that healthy body!!

New music is easy to dig up, and I've been enjoying the best new stuff I've heard in ages.  I'm such a music snob that it's very satisfying to drive around or run around and have my phone play incredibly underground stuff to drive or run or exercise to.  It needs a hook and an impeccable beat, some deep fluid bass or a new take on an old rhythm, and I'll love it.  If it compels me to move my body, that's perfect.  Plus, it's easy to find and I feel awakened!

Finally, after four years of displacement, living with my things stacked in a suitcase, a laundry basket, on top of the permanent fixtures, I am moving IN to my own new place.  It's enough room (but not too much), it's located an appropriate distance from my job and just east of the center of town.  I have loads of closet space, a bath tub, a small back yard, windows on both ends of the house, a dishwasher, and a fantastic kitchen.  I don't need the fancy architecture or amenities that pricier places proffer, so I'm delighted to have the space to work with.  I will need to purchase a few things, like a sofa, some new cookware and cutlery, a television, a toaster oven and a shower curtain.  I'm looking forward to doing a little nesting!

I think I'm going to run along and fantasize about furniture acquisitions and how I'll decorate my new home with all my OLD STUFF!

gratitude or attitude

This whole-body, visceral sensation of excitement and exhilaration is wonderful.  I know I can't feel like this every day, but I am relishing every moment of being on edge and infatuated.

It took five dates.  FIVE.  I'd like to think of that as some sort of personal record.  But when he finally kissed me, the fucking planets aligned.

He led into it with clues that it would probably happen soon, since Saturday night he met my friends and me for karaoke and afterwards as I hugged him goodbye he nibbled my ear and then kissed my throat...what a tease.  So the next day, when he came over to spend the afternoon swimming with me, it was explosive.

I enjoy holding back, though.  I never pictured myself appreciating stretching things out, but as we gradually layer increased amounts of intimacy I have all this time to indulge in what we've shared and can fantasize one degree higher.  Yesterday gave me so much to indulge in, it probably set me up for a week at least.

It feels great to have such an intense crush on someone again!  Though I've been told it is unwise to get into all that heavy emotional stuff early on, we delved in to seriously painful histories of loss and grief so early and to such depth and detail via email and long-distance calls, it's almost like we've cleared the air on what our mutual baggage entails.  I feel accepted by him, like he sees me as a survivor of my plights.  He teases me with a sense of understanding for who I am, and so he has full clearance to poke fun at me.

I'm going to spend this week basking in the recollection of the doctor's embrace, of his touch.  Also, listening to happy music.

Damn my heart feels good.