Loving me

I don't know what it looks like to have him love me back.

I've loved him so much, prepared to love him more.  I'm comfortable there.  I can be in a controlled vulnerable state.  He doesn't know if he loves me as much, that's fine, I've always had to love myself enough and that is where I like it.  I can show him how I like to be loved through loving him.  

In some way, I was even prepared for him to break up with me.  I can take care of myself.  But what happens when he comes back and LOVES me.  Loves all of me?  The good and the bad?  He wants to be there for my needs, even when I don't ask.  He is sure of his love.  I'm suddenly freaked the fuck out.

I know it's suppose to be a good thing.  And god damn it, it is.  But I can't help but have this feeling like it's not true.  I'm doing everything I can not to test it.  I'm old enough now to know that we can only be responsible for ourselves and I do like myself and maybe someone else could too.  I don't have to go out of my way to show him that he "shouldn't" love me, or that he'll "change his mind" once he sees who I really am.....hmmmm...who I really am.  Who am I?  I'm this girl, sitting in her PJ's typing on my laptop while he does my dishes.  yup.

Tonight I realized just how fucking attractive he is.  Must be a side affect of feeling inadequate.  He suddenly seems so unattainable.  

I'm seeing him through the eyes of those other women he dated during our hiatus - I am disappearing.  A hiccup I suppose in the fact that he considered other women and then decided on me. That little comparison game is throwing my game off.  Who is better than me?  (rhetorical question)

I used to be afraid when these feelings would surface, but now I know that that is just that - a feeling.  I have not disappeared.  I'm still here, I'm still just as sexy and what he is looking at he is liking - LOVING a lot.  So what does that mean?  Do I just keep doing what I do?  Keep busily trying to fit in as many arts/crafts as I can at night while watching mindless TV shows on netflix while blogging at midnight - or rushing in and out of my apartment about 5 times on my way to the car in the morning, each time remembering something else I forgot to grab?  How about taking a good half hour to get ready and get my hair did in the morning.  Or that I don't wake up and make breakfast - it's one of the 5 things I do on my way out to my car.  

Will he (can he) still love me when I'm not looking?  That is where my work is.  I can let go of that controlled vulnerability and just be vulnerable.  Let go of those reins Kyla!  Put them down!!  Trust!  Trust someone else.  Trust your heart and believe in yourself for fucking once - for reals - that you are worthy of love - when you're not looking and when you're not creating it.  

I don't know

I don't know what's worse.  I think I'm over him?  or maybe I'm not?  Either way he's back.  Stirring up the pot as usual.  So much for my carefree sex filled weekend.

I didn't see it coming either.  I thought, no way.  So perhaps it's just because he's caving (temporarily).  Or maybe I've stirred the pot.  I honestly thought this would be a "free" weekend to be casual with someone I actually loved....Maybe I was the one who was being fooled.

How can I be scared that I don't feel anything any more?  Because if I admit that, then I have to be alone and go out into the unknown world of maybe I'll end up 42 and single with no kids.

Or maybe I'm just putting my guard up so I don't get my heart DRAGGED THROUGH HELL AND BACK because I had a feeling about someone.

I keep thinking about my sister saying "I could be married by now - if that's what I wanted" and I could have that with him.  And you know what, I think I would actually be happy.  When I think about our relationship we were great....but how FUCKING easy it was for him to pull the rug right out from under me not once but TWICE.  I'd have to be some kind of fucking sadist to run back with open arms.  Was I living in a dream the whole time?  Was it ever as I thought it was.  I hate him for making me question that.   Does he move as quickly as I have with black and white judgement and is this the opportunity to redeem myself for every quick and regrettable decision I've made?

I want to hide!  I want to call in sick from my life for a few days and not think about anything.  I keep forgetting I could do that - damn my "healthy" upbringing.  Face your fears, face your problems, find solutions, love yourself.  - Like a goddamn recording (thanks Mom).

So we'll get together tomorrow.  Where?  I don't know because I'm over thinking that as well.  And I'll listen.  And ask questions, good questions.  And I'll let a little bit of time wade through the bullshit and reveal what is really in store for me.

I can only know what I know and sometimes "I don't know" is good enough.

Wait for it.

use your words

"You know, I don't know if I want to be with him anymore."  I said that and wasn't sure if it was true.  Well, I wasn't sure if I could handle the truth, yet.  I said it twice, to 2 people and made myself say it because, honestly it came out of my heart, that tiny little muscle that I sometimes pretend doesn't know what it's talking about.  I guess I just needed to practice hearing myself say it so I could in turn practice listening to myself.  I love that man.  I do.  He was great when we were together and there were things that we were so good at.  And I believed in us.  I did.  And after spending an awesome (care-free-physical-needs-met-kind-of) weekend together, last weekend - looking at our relationship months later, I could who we were then a whole lot clearer.  Sure, there were things that we didn't connect on and ideas that we differed on and we managed our way through it when we were together but looking at all  of those issues just seemed to be a whole lot louder when my heart was silent.

'You are so much better than the fantasy.  Thanks again for the reality this weekend.'

He texted me a few days after our "weekend".  To which I could not reply.  He was always real to me  (until our weekend of pretend).  And then a few more days later, today, I was invited to have dinner next week.  I thought 'Sure, why not.  A free meal and we'll catch up - ' but, what would we talk about?  We'd talk about our lives?  We'd talk about each other?  We'd talk about last weekend?  Where is this going?  And then my heart started talking to me again and said, "You know Kyla, that you will still be you and all the things that he couldn't work out the first time OR the second time will still be the same.  It's not going to be any different.  AND he had his chance.  And a second chance.  And now, you would be wasting the time that you could harbor a new relationship with someone new, who hasn't said (twice) "I don't think this will work.  This is not what I want."

So I'm using the lessons from my ended relationship, to be a better listener. To listen to what he said and to say out loud what my heart says, so I can hear what my heart knows is right for me.

It's NOT easy.  It's not.  It would be so silly to think for one second that there isn't a whole other side of me that follows those thoughts around like a shadow saying, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe......
but that word is the belly button lint of life.  Grown by things that at one time were good for my body but now are just the remnants  of what has been left behind with no purpose, not to keep me warm, not protect my belly button - and once noticeable should be cleaned out.  I want a life of YESES and NOS - I have no room for maybes.  That's what my heart says.

One day

**If you're my parents - read at your own risk**

We just have so many days in our lives. And we're never going to know how many that is. I just told my mom today, "you only get one day at a time, you can't take them all together." And that is the truth. But we plan our lives in chunks. We plan that we're suppose to get married and then we'll have kids and then we'll buy houses and redecorate them and buy new cars and a lawn mower. But we never really know what to expect. And yet we all get disappointed at some point or another when things don't "work out" the way we expected our LIVES to go. So I've been nibbling a little at this notion of days. And it kinda feels good.

The truth is - it feels kinda good to be bad. And tomorrow I'm going to take 1 day out of my life to spend with my ex. To have sex. And rather than imagining the days of turmoil that it may cause after, all I can think about is that moment in time. And yes, it might not be the healthiest thing I could do - but I have certainty, something fierce, that it's the right thing to do. And since I've been thinking about it, I have managed to feel more alive and in the moment for a whole 24 hours longer than I can remember. Suddenly I'm living my life day by day. Who knows what's going to happen?! (Don't say it -The bliss of hormones and adrenaline is just what this body needs to create temporary amnesia (or insanity) of what "could" happen after our rendez-vouz.) I swear to god it's love addiction. It's true. Love is addicting. It makes me feel like anything is possible and life is grande. Lines blur and nothing exists but today.

Crazy or love obsessed or not - I'm holding on to my day to day revelation and letting it all in as much as possible before my brain gets chunked back into the grind of our social outlines - or my heart is crushed into a million pieces when endorphines subside and that asshole turns back into the pumpkin he is. I'm getting fucked damn it and then life goes on.

I'm amazing...boo hoo

I can't keep doing this to myself. My mind goes down this path of past relationships, innocently enough. And then I catch myself thinking about them and think, I wonder if they ever think about us? and then I quickly stop myself and think probably not, because they are now in happy healthy relationships and the only reason I'm thinking about this is because I'm not and so I have time to "think back" and reminisce...And then I compare my old relationships to my last relationship and think What did I do wrong?? It must be some inability to make someone happy, maybe I'm too demanding, maybe I'm too this or too that and a shame spiral swirls in my brain.

I just get so angry about it - well, a bit angry. It even happens when I'm giving myself accolades - I'm excited to think that I could possibly buy my own house within the next couple of years and then my mind says I bet your parents are so excited, they probably never thought you could do it by yourself - or would have to do it by yourself - or you thought you would do it by yourself. And then I think Wow! You're going to buy a house BY YOURSELF and how sad that is.....

Oh WAH Kyla! Honestly. You are so privileged in so many ways that you have to sit here and have a pity party for yourself about it.

My sister keeps telling me, I could be married if I wanted to be. Like it's my choice to be single. And to some degree it is, I'll give her that. I could live in Australia and be married - and without my family and unhappy. Or I could be married to a stranger and just "see how it goes" or I could be married to a man who doesn't want children and therefore wouldn't have children. So, in a way, yes, it is my "choice" to be single - because I want more than what those options can afford. And it is my "choice" to buy a house as a single woman. I mean, technically, I could save my money and keep renting until I got married - but who wants to rent until they're 108 years old? I won't let my tax filing status get in the way of what I want for my life right now.

And who cares about a few people you aren't compatible with compared to the tons of wonderful people in your life who love the shit out of you.

Living the dream

I did it. I'm totally fucking sleep deprived, but I did it. I have just completed the first portion AND WAS PAID FOR an interior design job. I started out on this little journey of mine when I was 16. It was the first time I had seen Sally Fields prattle off a list of furniture specs for a hotel project on Mrs. Doubtfire when I realized I wanted to be an interior designer. I'm not sure if it was the combination of history and art or the ability to create space so fluidly from her mind but I was like, that's what I want to do. And today, 13 years later, I can say, I did it!

I went to college and got my bachelor's in Interior Design, ya ya ya, but that is school. They teach you how to create design presentations and source material. What they don't teach you is - how to ask for what you're worth, and how to create a contract or why it's important, or how to know what someone is really asking for or how to deal with it when someone says, that's not what I was thinking. Fortunately for me, today, my client LOVED everything I selected. We shared moments where she was like, I LOVE that rug! And I was like, I KNEW you would love that rug. Ah. Those are the good moments when I feel like I was made to do this.

Right out of college I had my first "freelance job". I think I asked for about $10 over minimum wage. It was BEYOND apparent I had no real "residential" or freelance experience. We selected paint color - she ended up buying (and painting the room) an off variation of what I suggested. She got the sofa, and drapery I suggested, but slightly different. In fact, everything was slightly different than what I suggested. But, looking back, she did everything I suggested, I just had no idea what I was doing. I thought after that experience (when I was 22) I could never do that again. I was suppose to design restaurants and hotels! right?

Well, I don't know how many lily pads I hopped from, but at the ripe ole age of 29 I finally had - not just a freelance customer - but a client for my OWN business. It was the family room head to toe and not only did I select the wall color and every piece of furniture in that room, but I laid out the furniture, made the invoices and created all the drawings for the space - and she LOVED IT.

And, I got paid for it.

Next step is ordering the furniture and getting everything in there. That is a whole different animal in itself. When that is complete I will have a new revelation on finishing a project but for today, I can say, I designed a room, head to toe, presented it, had the client LOVE it and then got paid for it. It felt pretty fucking good.

thank you to everyone of my friends and family for asking/allowing me to help them with their house projects and keeping me motivated and practicing interior design. It's just something that I love to do and now, it's something I get paid to do. It's called, living the dream. Amen.

Making it

a lot of my friends are happily settling in with their significant others. If they're not married already, they are engaged or quickly approaching, counting the years of courtship on a whole hand if not more. Some have children while some are still energetic about the wedding bells ringing. My older sister who is one year older than me has two children, both of them needing both hands to count their age, 8 and 10. My older sister has been married for 11 years, she just graduated college, got a brand new car, a full time job teaching and just bought the house of her dreams. She told me recently that when she moves into her new home, she will have finally made it. I quickly asked, "if you've made it - then where the fuck am I?"

Just seconds ago, I read a facebook post by another friend who said the next four years was going to be great - she is buying a house and traveling and getting new ink and dying her hair pink again. Once she moves in, she'll be volunteering and walking her dogs everywhere.

I tried to gleam some of this optimism and started to post my status update of things I will be looking forward to within the next few years. But I stopped when I realized, I was writing a blog post - not a status update (woops). Oh, that and I got kinda pissed about the fact that I have of late, felt a little slapped around with this idea of "making it". And, how it could have something to do with having a partner. Period. I suppose that is my idea of "making it." Because when you have a partner - come what may, you have that knowing smile to come home to. That person that knows whether you've made it home or not. That person to split bills with or have them cook dinner when you've had a hard day and the last thing you can do is take care of yourself.

And it's not just because I'm going to be 30 and the thought of that number next to single knocks the wind out of me and involuntarily makes my eyes a bit leaky. No one knows what to do with 30 (who isn't 30 already) and it would just be nice to have someone to not know with. Josie totes doesn't count because she knows everything and mocks me with her secrecy.

So I need to change this idea of "making it". Like, right now. Because, I am making it. I have a fucking awesome job, and a free lance DESIGN client who I'm designing a family room for-- a PAYING client. I have a personal trainer, friends in Palm springs and New York and Japan asking me to visit. I don't have to have roommates, I own my car and in 6 months (if I can just stay on the wagon) I'll be credit card debt free! I have awesome friends, fabulous sisters, the best nephews this Auntie could ask for. Plus, I live in Portland. I'd say...I'm making it. In order to have "made it" my ultimate goals now are buying a house. A very very similar goal to my older sister. I guess timing is everything.

It's just facebook anyway.

Fear, Fun, Fate, Free massages and the Goodfoot

So lucky that I ran right into him, on a Friday night. He walked out of the gym as I was quickly approaching the front doors. It's always surreal to see an ex when you don't expect it. It happens in Milli seconds that move in slow motion, like running in water. Initial excitement drenched in pain. I suppose the gym was the best place to have a chance encounter, I could go sweat it out shortly thereafter.

You know what I hate the most about it...I feel nothing when I hug him. I think that is what makes the me saddest. I can't tell if my guard is up and I am physiologically frozen with emotion when we embrace, a protection reflex, or worse, apathy? The latter makes me sad to think that there could have been so much and then nothing. The first thought makes me sad because I can close my eyes and feel the warmth of him embrace and yet when I am holding him, much like the reality I find myself in, I cannot have him.

Gawd, there are so many other things I want to write about. Fear. Fear of the unknown. My process of learning how to find answers rather than get stuck in fear, get stuck behind the giant rock in front of me. I am so tired of people putting limitations on themselves, me included. Thank god for quality television programming like America's Next Top Model and The Voice and all those other competition shows, for showing me how many people get so close to their potential and yet still feel unworthy and under qualified. And for letting me see, within myself, and outside of their "reality" situations, that the best way to get through the fuss and fear is to have fun. And love. Fun and love.

I also wanted to give a shout out to gym member appreciation day's free 15 minute massages and fate. Thank you random woman for insisting I schedule myself for the last 15 minute massage, so that Dr. Wonder-hands could work my back like no body's business while speaking leaned-in close to my ear. Oh girrrllll......I need to get insurance! Order up!

............There is still a nugget of turmoil inside of me from running into him tonight, like crashing waves. So, for my imagery therapy this evening, I am focusing on that area where the water collides. I am holding it, without judgement and loving it. I am slowly changing the tousling ocean into something smaller. A washing machine. The water still churns....it slows down. I'm trying to get it to the spin cycle. Less slushing.

My music is loud and Josie is purring in my lap. In 8 minutes I'm heading to the Goodfoot. I suppose tonight is not a night for holding still. Round 2 - I'll see you on the dance floor.

Addiction

Today was a low, low day. My fantasies took over and he and I were a magnificent couple. We laughed about everything, our lips were made to lock onto each other's, our bodies touch was electric. There was nothing imperfect about us. It wasn't just lust, our friendship was solid. I wanted to tell him I couldn't stop finding coconut oil every time I went to the grocery store. Something we had an argument about at one point and laughed about later. I wanted to tell him about my design project and get his approval, his praise, his affection, his love.

A low, low day.

I even convinced myself on the drive home that I could call him and have him spend the night tonight. I could. I would feel TERRIBLE the next day, a rung out scrap of terrycloth afterwards. But I could. It would feel magnificent. To connect. To have that essence of us, shared and understood.

I keep getting caught in that net. That high. That gloriousness. And it was. It was.

I can't keep going there, and then worse yet, trying to slam the door on it. The fantasy has outweighed reality today. It's pressure is passionate. It grips me. I am consumed by it. I cannot shake it. Oh lord, I have tried. I went straight to dance class, and on the way to watch a movie with my girlfriends right after, I stopped by my Father's for some perspective. I convinced myself if I told someone, told EVERYONE that I was having these thoughts there would be some accountability. Tears came, a mere side affect. I know better than to try and shut it out, to turn it off. It only breaks into a million swarming bees with my head in it's hive. So how to face this thunderous knock at my heart? This insatiable cat's tongue in my chest, as I explained it to my step mother tonight.

Hold it dearly, she said. Give it the attention it asks for. Love is the answer. When it's clawing to get out, cradle it gently and bask it in my love. No judgements, no answers, just time.

I drove to his house after the movie with my girlfriends. I was right there.

I parked across from his car, his porch light was on. The house was dark.

I felt nothing.

Surprised that I didn't instinctively attempt to get out of my car, I tried to remember. I turned the screw and thought of every memory I had on that porch, and in that kitchen, at that table, on that couch. Nothing. Just memories. And so I left.

The farther I got from his house, the more emotion came. I thought, 'should I go back and walk up to the door and see what happens? Should I have sat on the porch?' And my heart began to race. But not when I was there. Because that house was not a part of the fantasy, it was the truth. And so is he and so am I. And I do love him and we had good times.

Right?

The real ones

I went out with 2 of my best guy friends in the whole world tonight. Both polar opposites of each other. Both outed me tonight on making out with both of them. Both of them, none suspecting. Oy vey! Ions ago. Both make out sessions (at different times) right after throwing up from major intoxication. There was a point in my life where I thought my vomit was an aphrodisiac. Maybe it was just because I tend to get really nice/vulnerable when I'm puking my guts out. Who knows?

I love these guys. They are the angel and demon in my life and sometimes it's nice to take them both out for a drink - or two.

One of them is getting married....the "demon". Of course. All the "demons" in my life seem to get married, shortly after a barrage of mockery in my general direction about my philandering sentiments about matrimony and commitment. But that is for a different blog. Tonight, amongst the cheersing and eye rolling, I had a small come to Jesus about the branches of my dating life, which quickly spiraled into the branches of my many exes.

Just before happy hour, I had a happy hello from a mister Isle of Man, circa 2007 pop up on my facebook messenger. 'What's going on in the world of Kyla?' was his opening line (about three years since his last hello) What's going on with me? Let me sum it up in one word, single. He - married. The man whose definition of change is getting a gold fish. Skips completely over his wife and goes to, "I got a gold fish". Wow. That and he's getting ready to sell his apartment to get a house - he wants a garage. He was a great ex. He was an out of town ex. A friend of a friend from the Isle of Man who I met and him ending up doing the worst thing imaginable - ditching his friends to spend the weekend at the beach with me. A giant, all muscle, rugby man with the cutest accent and arms for days. I couldn't help but fall back into my little pocket of him tonight. I have this video I took of him the morning I drove him to the airport, believing I would see him again and our future was possible. It is one of my favorite videos because his sincerity was as warm as the heater blanket I wrap myself up in every night (and avoid at all cost leaving in the morning). We were in my kitchen, the first apartment I lived in alone. I said, "say something" and he begins to speak at which point I say, "or do a dance" at which point he begins to dance about. Behind the camera I am a nervous director, waiting to see what I will capture, so I continue to instruct and he obediently follows along, kissing the camera lens and telling me he will miss me and see me as soon as possible. The scene ends with a pause where I shut the fuck up and he has a moment to pull out of himself and his beautiful "British" lips - "I'm gonna miss ya baby". Oh....swoon.

And I know he's married and I know he's gone, but I still sent that video to him tonight because no one - in this world - could appreciate that moment outside of us. Ya, ya, I thought about his wife and marriage and blah blah blah but that moment existed and still does in both of us. And I'm a million miles away and a thousand years from then, and still single.

But even tonight, with my "demon" whose getting married, there was something I felt like I couldn't talk about. That being the fact that I wasn't sure if I could make his wedding - in Brooklyn. It just felt so annoying that you can't even tell your bestie that you're conflicted because you are trying to save money (to buy a house) and then there's your friends "life" putting itself right in front of yours. Clearly I ended up spilling my guts all over the table about it. I mean I held it in for a good 2 weeks and that was all I had - or else I would have just had to forfeit our friendship all together to avoid talking about what was really on my mind. It just felt weird to suddenly make his wedding about my fear of not being able to afford it. I believe the etiquette is to nod and smile at the bride and groom and bitch to your "friends" but what if the groom is your friend. You get drunk at sushi and let it fly. It started out awkward, a little bit like a chewed off finger nail, you could see the "angel" getting nervous. I tried not to make eye contact with either of them. More awkwardness and explaining and scowling and explaining and head shaking and lots of gesticulating and almost knocking over beers and then a forced awkward hug followed by an awkward back scratch. The "angel" had enough and left for a potty break and I sat next to my "demon" trying to collect myself (and finish my beer). The "angel" returned and naturally, I leaned in and hugged my little goose "demon" and we were fine again.

That's the best thing about friends - real ones - they love the shitty parts of you, as much as the good parts, which they only mention when you are in a really bad place, (not to give you a big head.) God I love those guys.

I also learned tonight that to men, it's not just the size of junk, but how far/hard they can "shoot" it. Guess who brought that up, and who concurred. What would I do without them?

spoiler alert

well I just ruined any chance at having a peaceful sleep tonight. Just finished watching, The Cook, The Thief, his Wife and her Lover. Holy balls amazing and terrifying. At one point, I was sick to my stomach - literally, emphatically experiencing what it would be like to have someone attempt to feed me my belly button, and then later to watch the soul- less creature (The Thief) be fed the man that he brutally murdered by stuffing him with the pages of the French Revolution.

It's not really a "date night" movie, per se, but the romance portion, or the love portion, is quite palpable.

I am privileged to say, that after so many nights of crying alone in this apartment, feeling alone - not just "by myself in the room" kind of alone, but alone in my suffering, alone in my life, without even a friend to find relation of this kind of suffering, I found a piece of my humanity in one of the raw cinematic scenes. The wife finds her lover's body, brutally murdered by her husband, only hours after she has left his side, and her reaction (after a brief silence) is to tell him that she is tired and that she is going to sleep. She covers his body with a blanket and stretches out his arm - and as I watch with sobered reservation, she curls up next him and tells his corpse that when she wakes up she wants him to kiss her. And then she wants him to make her breakfast. Toast and marmalade. It wasn't just denial. It was a sweet protection of her heart. It was a savoring of her love. It was not done. And she held that love, as it would never be again, while his body laid there. Until the morning when he did not kiss her and she agreed that she would have to make her own breakfast and that it was done.

How that pain swirls around in my heart and shoulders and stomach, coating my guts with the utter devastation of love. How beautiful is that pain. If not to have it, to have known it.

If you haven't seen the movie I totes recommend it. Maybe just not right before bed.

the clouds part

I don't know if it's closure from breakfast with my ex yesterday, or Foreigner playing I want to know what Love is on repeat on my phone, or perhaps the fact that my family is having more problems than me right now, but TODAY, I am at peace.

I am content.

These are the days I wait for impatiently to arrive and I had one today. Where everything was quiet and I didn't need to drown it out. I wasn't afraid of the future and I didn't think one second about my past. No one bothered me, in the general sense of annoyance I find other people's existence competing with mine for validation. I had coffee and held baby Liam and counseled my step sister and my father and my older sister. I shopped for furniture for a potential design project and ran into old colleagues. I bought groceries to make vegetable minestrone and have been present with myself all day. I held Josie like a baby, my baby, and sang to her (Foreigner, of course) while she purred. Thank you for my life. What a gift.

you're fine kid

Forgiveness.

Okay so I'm not quite there yet, but I have to own my part in this. Me and my ex were not a bad couple. We didn't have a bad relationship. It wasn't bad. And because of that I didn't know how to justify our end. So I made it bad. I made him bad, I made life bad, I made my future bad hoping to purge myself through this and come out the opposite of all this bad. I guess I was dry heaving my way through it. I just needed to relax and breath and move on.

So - I texted him. I asked to have coffee. He opens up immediately. I stick to the task at hand. Coffee/breakfast? Yes. The first contact wasn't terrible. It was nice. But what if he talks about a new relationship? What if he talks about how great he is? What if.....I'm trying to turn myself inside out again. But I know inside myself that this is good. This is new for me. I've always cut and run. Perhaps I've just been afraid of being wrong, not being enough, facing my own fears of rejection. So, now (that I know better - and know MYSELF better) I'm kinda looking forward to seeing my friend.

I'll let you know how it goes.....WAIT FOR IT!

Sleep it off

I'm so angry. I'm so angry. I'm so angry and I don't know what to do with it.

I went and worked out today for about an hour. What am I suppose to do with the rest of my day? I drank about 4 beers and ate pizza.

People do weird things for weird reasons. I cried in the spin room today. I tried to let out some emotional aggression while pedaling my brains out. I cried because I miss him. I miss us. I miss my best friend. My partner in crime. My buddy. It's been replaced with walls of stone and brick and restraint and anger.

and you want to know why I can't see him? It's because it won't mean the same thing to him as it does to me. I want an "us". He wants a "for now". And yet I find myself doing the same thing to a perfectly wonderful person.

I think I am entering the portion of this depression known as, "lets sleep through this."

Tonight my friend Chris told me that he thought of me as someone "who is afraid to be alone".

Well, maybe I am. How much alone time does someone need? A week, a month a day? I suppose I used to think that I had too many friends to keep up with. Now, I have too many friends to track down and see if anyone wants to spend some alone time with me.

So why, mister Freud, would I be afraid to be alone? Because I'm an opportunist? Because I want to spend my life around other people? Because if I'm alone, there's no chance of meeting the father of my children which means I'll continue to be childless until ..... ?

This morning I was so angry that I literally wanted to drive over to my ex's house and drag him out and beat the shit out of him, even if it was in front of his child. I just wanted to feel the weight of my emotions have a physical impact on his body. I know that's not healthy - so I went to the gym. I'm not sure if that is the BEST therapy but it does give me an outlet other than beer and carbs. And boys.

more than words

What is it about this timing thing? Tonight someone proposed to me. It wasn't the most absolute realest proposal ever, but I had a feeling if I would have said yes, it would have led to a marriage. The last 10 months that's all I wanted from him, but even after buying a ring, he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

On my drive home I had a few Epiphanies -

1. Sometimes it seems like all my relationships are a really long game of suck and blow. I'm getting from the next person what I was giving to the last.

2. I truly believe that when I am making out with someone I am having the most intimate, revealing conversation about the love I am capable of sharing. Having realized that, I now believe it's time to give myself more credit - I'm more than just my tongue in someones mouth. Sheesh. Way to go Kyla. You finally figured that out, we all knew you'd come around. Don't get me wrong, making out IS intimate and beautiful and is the closest to love you can communicate, but that is not all you are made up of. You are all of those things just walking down a street with a smug look on your face (you know the one that you think makes you look like you don't care whose looking, while simultaneously giving yourself props for looking so hip hop - you crack me up)

3. What do I want? A provider and protector.

I was all set up to not like him. I thought he would be way late and leave me reading until God knows when his "errands" were done. But he was there. Before me. I ordered my coffee as he was sitting down. When I went to put my stuff down and take my jacket off he suggested we walk with our coffees (I love that - that's so me, but today I wore shoes that had already given me blisters from walking around with my friends right before that. I knew that was going to happen. We walked anyways) Before we got up to leave they called out my double vanilla latte was ready - He had a vanilla latte :) Matchers! He was sweet. He said family is really what it's about. We walked down the main street then into the neighborhoods. I like how he said, the neighborhoods. I also liked how I asked him where he wanted to go and he said, "wherever you want to go." Something about that was shocking. What was that? Attention? no. I think so. Am I totally fucked? Did he just say all the right things?

Do I even like him. Yes. Well. I did, right after the vanilla latte - and a little after I walked in and he was there. He also made a joke about not drinking - which I thought was pretty clever. And then told me not to finish my drink and he wouldn't finish his to make me feel better. I like that he's 30. There were times I felt like just a couple of kids making out. It felt great to be in the same place with someone. Like time wrapped around us like a blanket. He took me to the bluffs and looked at the stars with me.

Ya Ya, I'm all excited about it now...we made out, endorphins. But there is A LOT more to a relationship that these things. Right? YES. Why does it always seem like everything else doesn't matter. When really, it does. Right? YES. Go back to provider, protector. That's all you need to know. Can he and is he. Right now, I'm not so sure about the provider part, or even the protector part, if that includes stability. I almost erased that last part. But it's true. I've only hung out with the guy 1 night. Get your head on straight. It was fun. Give it 3 dates - but legitimate ones - without booze and making out. Ya hear!

back on track

I have organized everything I can get my hands on, in my apartment. I stopped myself when I started to organize my organization. Things are starting to fall back into place in my life - well, my home. I'm starting from base and letting the rest of everything else fall in line. I have a few odds and ends left : paint the walls, wash the ceiling (believe me - it needs it a bit), scrub the walls in the bathroom (shower spots), replace the light bulb outside my front door - maybe even scrub the exterior walls of my apartment (I doubt my landlord cares it looks grimy) and then eventually - maybe - plant some shit in the broke down, decrepit planter box that sits on the second level of the apartments, rotting away. It's time for some life to give purpose to that dead painted wood. This is the short remainder of things of my list of things to do to get my life back on track.

It seems never ending and I'm sure when I finish this list, new chores will manifest.

I stopped myself today at about 8:30. My next assignment was to work on this necklace for my mom's birthday. But before that, there was about 15 minutes of panic. What will I do when everything is done, when the room is silent? Organize my clothes? Clean under the bed? More distractions to stop myself from feeling that ache. And what is that ache? A purposeless life. I've been dealing with that a bit lately I suppose. Nephews, cats, friends, spontaneity = purpose, but I can't help but shake that feeling. So I put my hand over my heart and feel it beating - and know I'm here for a reason (I read that on a pinterest post and it helped).

Holy Geez Kyla, perk up! You're being ridiculous! Your house looks amazing and we'll get it painted and then you can focus on your jewelry and stationary and pillows and writing that fucking book finally.

Everyone I see lately on facebook seems to be on their second (or FOURTH) kid, or they're engaged. And I'm.....not. I'm organizing. My apartment. I saw my step mom's newest book today while I had stopped by to detail the interior of my car. It was called, Use your Brain to Change your Age, and though I'm only 29, it made me think about this stigma of age and where I'm suppose to be. Those walls I'm putting up around myself to fit. I realize I'm the only person putting myself there. I'm the only person feeling unfit in my groups of friends who are doing different things. I'm putting that on me. Twenty nine is that age that everyone wishes they could still be at. Oh, 29! I don't want to waste it. So, lets practice - something. Practice happiness and youth, my youngest day today.

Celebrating my bookshelf. It makes me happy because it looks pretty and holds a short vignette of my brain and passion. It also represents stability. I love it. I love my vacuum cleaner. I was so worried it was broken or I had done something to it, but after (a 5 second) inspection, I started it up and my apartment couldn't feel cleaner :) I love that feeling of vacuumed carpet. My storage is organized and ready for my pillow assembly line. Get that fabric cut out and thread color selected.

Celebrating possibility. Celebrating loving myself. Celebrating not being with someone who doesn't see how great I am. Celebrating my health. Celebrating my sunglass selection. I think I want cowboy boots. That would mix things up. Celebrating owning my car. Celebrating my artistic ability - to draw (DRAW MORE DRAW MORE) Celebrating my education and friends. Celebrating Mondays off and art. Celebrating my next chapter....paint on the walls and cozy nights at home! Celebrating kindness. And fluffly animals named Josie whose purpose is just to be. I get it.

I got to keep on moving!

Lots of feelings happening today. I suppose the overall feeling is sadness. Just during the parts of the day I had to dwell. I keep getting stuck on us today. I kept getting stuck on his smile and our closeness. Last night I fell asleep next to him, only in my mind. But it's amazing how real my feelings were for him, in my mind, even when our toes actually touched in the night. I still have the place reserved, happiness. Walking down the street, sharing the day. I was stuck there today. There will never be answers to the questions that I "need" to know. Que the voice inside of me that repeats, "you are enough. you will - you will find someone that loves you" when everything else inside me, besides that voice, is say, "yesh, I...don't know. I don't know anymore. How many more times can you say that before you think, well....it might just be you."

That is what that hook was today. It wasn't him, it was fear, disappointment and losing faith. I'm losing faith here people. What makes it worse is that I've already started "dating" someone else who I know is probably not the right person for me and our differences are of course under a magnifying glass because I'm still so raw about my soul right now. The best thing about it, however, is the opportunity to try things a little different. I mean, after the last serious heartbreak I learned never to live with someone without being engaged and close to marriage (because, a- marriage is a priority to me and b- in case you didn't know this, when you live with someone you ARE married without the committment and typically relationships need committment.) After learning AND applying that lesson with my most recent ex, I think I shaved a year and a half off a bad relationship, plus I didn't have to move again AND separate our things or share a home post break up. So what did I learn from this relationship? A few things stand out to me. Be a better listener. He was saying what he wanted and it wasn't matching up with what I wanted. Granted, it wasn't phrased like, "I don't want what you want" it was very romanticized politico talk - a lot of "ifs" where thrown down. If only this, or sure, if. The second part to that is that I have to be more involved with where I want to be and what I want for myself. When I hear the "ifs" instead of saying, oh this could work I need to say, "DOES this work for me?" I'm not quite sure how to integrate the second insight into my personal interactions yet, but I am putting it out there. I am open to learning.

The second part of my night was actually very pleasing - I worked out. I kicked my ass! I felt great. Ain't no one gonna break my stride, aint no one gonna hold me down, oh no - I got to keep on moving!!

Today is a good day for change

I saw him today. Walking down the road, right toward the car I was in. His casual, unconfident stride matched his oversized peacoat. Blue on leash and his smile taped to his face. Who knew what it meant. I did not look him in the eye. I know I looked at his face. I couldn't escape it. I threw up my hand, a slight wave. I feel so numb about it and yet confident about my future. Good programming. But I came home and wanted to call him sooooo bad.

OH NO! I'm in it. I'm back in it. The fog, the haze, the hurt. The sadness, confusion, loss. Ouch ouch ouch!!! I just finished the Lord of the Rings triology tonight and realized - the ending sucked. I don't give a shit about the whole thing - just make the ending count. Make it worthy of the time I took to watch it. Make the ending a good one. And it wasn't.

My house is full of papers that I can't seem to throw away. Well, they won't throw themselves away. Today is a good day for change.

Underneath the Trying

I couldn't decide what blog to start writing in tonight. I had a "private" blog for awhile, a slow leak to a broken dam of a relationship that ended, if you could only imagine. It was doomed from the start despite it's romantic beginnings, edited through rose colored glasses, the only way love allows. But whatever. It's over. And I won't blog to myself anymore...that's bullshit. Life is for the living and I'm still 29 - fucker. SO - onwards and upwards. what's up?!?

Hello life. I don't have children and I, for whatever reason am going through a serious eye rolling phase about it. The very mention of "my child" triggers a reaction something close to a convulsion of eye rolling. I do my best to hold back, but it doesn't help. I end up bulging my eyes as wide as possible and looking in any direction an exit might be indicated. Same difference I suppose. But I try. I don't want to be like this. I want my own damn kids. I DON'T want to hear about others. Fuck me! How did I get to this point in my life. Seems like every damn person I know has em. And if they don't, they have someone. Someone that could potentially get them with child. I am surprised at how often I consider refining my social circle. I don't often opt out but lately my mind is a small pox of check boxes of people who only remind me of how far off the map I am and who I'd just as soon not spend the afternoon counting the teeth between their smiling parted lips. Perhaps thats why I love my cat so much. I can count the number of times I've seen her teeth on one hand - including the times I've tried to find them. She is as annoyed with me as I am with myself and I am content to see my reflection in the slits of black in her eyes and her smileless face.

I am working on a few things these days. Patience being one of them. I am succeeding. Truthfully. Change doesn't have to always feel good as long as the outcome is closer to the desired goal. Eventually a balance happens and the change becomes the routine. Right? This little bit of zeroes and ones where I write my sloppy human feelings is my time to paint the canvas with unfiltered emotions and freedom. This is the place where we all connect; you know how I feel underneath the trying. But don't misread me - I wouldn't try if I didn't truly long to understand myself in my full capacity.....to love.

So, we will go to Hubers not Valentines so she can bring her baby - who is as cute as a button. And I will not protest, via text, because in the long run, I will have a great time. Until then, my heart swims in the swamp that is .... singleness? No. Minority. The one without.

Pray I break the habit of disclaimers in this blog as I come off a relationship where trust was two sided mirror - and say, yes, I know this is a mere percentage of my well rounded, beautiful, fun, exciting life. But this is just what the fuck I want to write about tonight. Enjoy.

The sky answers back

My life as of today consists of half drank glasses of wine, cold apartments, whole sale retail strewn about a half lived in apartment and what I fear will soon to become nights full of other people's fictional lives on netflix counting down the time before I should fall into REM only to dream about another life and wake up knowing what to expect.

We're separated. We might as well be over. Who would let someone go on a break to decide if they want someone, you in particular, in their life or not. If you have to be alone to decide it, you have to be alone period. But here I am, waiting. I don't quite know what for yet. I, of course, want this to be about personal growth...."I didn't know that I felt like this, until I experienced this, but now I know this, and ....I want to be with YOU." But how many times do we have to go through that before the person you are suppose to spend the rest of your life with knows that you're the person they want to spend the rest of their life with. We've already been here once. Hello indecision. But the second time, I mean, come on - it's just truth hiding behind scared. I still hesitate writing that, I suppose it's hope leaning over my shoulder. But - COME ON.

Shock does crazy things to people. In shock, if sudden enough, I could believe a whale just walked into a room and said, "what are you looking at?" as if he'd been there the whole time and I was the one out of place. If only I could have a few seconds of sanity to collect myself and realize, it's him and not me.

I want to be a better listener. I want my apartment to be warm right now. I'm going to have to wait for both. It only suddenly occurs to me when my apartment is then too hot and when I have heard something I wasn't listening to. He wishes I would have more experiences that he's had at this point in his life (meaning children and an ex marriage). I hear 'more children and exes'. It only suddenly occurs to me he might mean 'less free time'. But what do I know? I'm a single woman. I live in my own apartment. I have a cat I can leave for 3-5 days without serious damage or worry and he has a whole life that he has to keep up with that only half belongs to him when he can get it. All my wisdom of family and children and communication can't hold a light - or even a shadow - to the machine of an ex family. If only I were enough.

But I'm not. Not in the end. Not when it counts.

We're not broken up yet. We'll let someone else explain it to us on Tuesday when we go to our first counseling session.

All we have is ourselves in the end. We'll be two people in that room. Knowing what we know about ourselves and having someone else explain it to the person who knows us the best. I'd really like to meet him. The man I've been spending my nights with. The one who I've been wrestling through understanding and change. The one who I give up the hope of solitary attention and ask merely for second place, please not third after his ex. I've asked the sky longingly if I'm the only person who knows what it's like to wish nothing more than to be a close second (to his is child). The sky answers back, "what are you asking me for? Open your eyes and you'll see where you are."

But I just don't know.

I am at his front door, unlocking it with my key while he is making dinner. I am huddled under a fleece blanket sitting on the floor in my apartment typing under a television asking you what my future holds. I am alone. Well, I have my cat.