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!