| This is the strangest life I've ever known. |
[Jul 05 2009 / 7:14pm] |
The truth about secrets. See, I know how it really works. You confide in someone about a skeleton(s) hiding in a closet (and not even necessarily your own skeleton/closet), and that person swears up and down to never tell a soul. And then the secret becomes too much for them to keep to themselves, so they break that pledged oath and tell someone, "I trust you, so I'm gonna tell you something, and you're the only other person who knows this-- So, you have got to promise to never tell anyone, ever." And just like that the secret's out and someone who you never wanted in your personal affairs knows things about you that you never wanted to get out. But they know along with the person you told in confidence, and you can be rest assured that other people will find out too. That's how secrets work. I know this because I myself am guilty of letting loose details that were meant to be kept safe and locked up for eternity. I've grown accustomed to sealed lips and pinky promises.
I quit my job because I will not stand to be talked down to, by anyone. I handed over the fitting room keys while matter-of-factly saying I wasn't obligated to stay when I was quitting, in response to being told I couldn't leave until an associate got back from her smoke break.
Sometimes I become so bitter towards everyone that I forget to show love to those who've done nothing to deserve my unpleasant side.
I never saw me or my brother as being burdens, but I do sometimes wonder how different my mom's life would be like if she hadn't had us, or met our dads. My whole life my mom has been a single parent; even when she remarried she still carried the load all on her own. Household duties, cooking, working, raising the children were always her sole responsibilities. And no man ever cared enough to rescue her from that, or at least lift the weights from her fragile body.
I now know why my mom told me to never talk about religion and politics with people. Freedom of expression/speech doesn't even exist in our fellow man/woman.
Yesterday, I celebrated my country's independence at the Marietta Square with my mom and Steven. We ate polish sausage, roasted corn, and cotton candy, sat on a bench in the park for hours talking, and watched fireworks explode across the night sky.
( July 4th, 2009 )
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[Jun 25 2009 / 7:07pm] |
Michael Jackson, the "King of Pop", has died at the age of 50... of suspected cardiac arrest. How is that even possible?! I mean, I know he was a person just like the rest of us, but I always saw him as a supernatural being.
I don't want to believe it. I keep waiting for the news to report that it was just a hoax.
I don't even know what to say, words have failed me.
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[Jun 22 2009 / 5:00pm] |
I finally, after months of not finding the time and breaking last minute plans, got to go out dancing with two of my closest friends. The crowd and music had changed immensely since the last time I went, but those things didn't stop me from moving around savagely like an Amazon woman on the dancefloor. At times we joked about not being able to "find the beat" because it had been a while since we danced. But once some of our favorites played, all that rhythm palpitated through us organically. I have got to fit my schedule around doing things that make me happy, and not just doing mundane things that bring me no sense of satisfaction or euphoria. Working a 9 to 5 does nothing but tire me and leave me longing for more fruitful days. I only work because I have to, it's a necessary means of survival; because without a job I wouldn't have money, and without money I wouldn't be able to afford essentials like a roof over my head, groceries, and clothing. But I don't want to retire at 55+ only to realize that I was successful, but didn't thoroughly revel in the enjoyment that is my life. I need to cross that bridge-- now...soon...sometime in the future. But, how?
Yesterday was me and Steven's ten month anniversary. We packed ourselves a lunch of loaded tuna fish sandwiches, grapes, banana bread, and Vitamin water and spent our afternoon at Stone Mountain Park. It was so hot and humid outside that I could taste the air and our clothes clung to us like a second skin. We walked around for a few hours and picked a spot under the shade where we ate. Later in the evening, we went to the dollar theater to see 17 Again, which wasn't even half as bad as we expected it would be. We wrapped up our night with books, backrubs, and Orange Pekoe tea before bedtime.
( Ten months in, decades upon decades to go. )
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| If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. |
[Jun 13 2009 / 11:53pm] |
Sometimes I forget to write in this thing, and when I finally do, I don't know how to pick up where I left off.
I will try not to make this a sappy, I'm-head-over-heels-in-love-with-my-boyfriend entry, because I know that not everyone wants to hear about that lovey dovey-ness day in and day out. But I will say that my instincts were right from the start. Steven is it for me. There were times in particular when I felt like throwing in the towel, so to speak. Relationships-- all relationships take an immense amount of effort. And I've always been the type to run for the hills when things treaded into shaky territory. I always want for things to go smoothly; I want to open my palms and have things handed over to me. But, I've learned a long time ago that while life may work out like that for others, easy come/easy go is not on my side. So, I have grown to inherit patience and understanding, two qualities I did not possess until last summer.
That's when Steven enters the story. When I met him, he was in many ways an indecisive, easily agitated, "I don't want to be in a committed relationship because I like my space" kind of guy. We had both gotten out of relationships (long-term for me, short-term for him), and weren't exactly "newly" single, but enjoyed the non-committed lives we had immersed ourselves in. Still, I wasn't the type of girl to give someone the benefits of having a girlfriend without actually being one. Random hook-ups (and by hook-ups, I mean, making out and nothing more) with guys I met while going out on the town with friends were alright by me. But Steven had become a regular boything, and I wasn't going to be intimate with him, making dinner for two, having him sleep the night over my apartment several days out of the week, and do all the things couples do, but not be one. I had too much common sense and home training for that. So, we tried the exclusive dating thing, until that pact was broken some time last July when Steven's persistent, "I only want you because you've moved on and I'm now single again" ex-girlfriend came into the picture. I don't like to think about the details that probably played out the night they agreed to meet up to "talk". (Back-story: she cheated on him and was obviously not satisfied with the apologies that were given before. So this meeting was supposed to be a face to face apology; for her to finally be able to live down/with what she had done, which really translates to he had cut her out of his life and being ignored didn't sit well with her. And she, of course, had no qualms about being relentless.) But I do know that things did/didn't go beyond a certain point, because as it's been explained to me, something just didn't feel right. Steven had this girl from the not so long ago past in front of him, who seemed different since the last time he had seen her. She was not as attractive as he had remembered, and her kissing style no longer complimented his. For the past few weeks-- up until that point, he had been spending time getting to know me, taking me out on dates, kissing me and having sex with me. And we all know that no two people/bodies are alike... But to him, there were distinct differences in eyes, noses, lips, skin, breasts, legs, butt shape, touch, personal interests, everything-- everything about her fell short in comparison, and he hasn't seen her since. I'd just like to think that his vision was severely impaired and he lost his ever-loving mind for a brief moment or two; a temporary lapse in judgment when old feelings came into play only to fizzle out and be discarded again, because no other excuse is acceptable in the least bit. But he has stood behind that fact that things didn't further escalate because she simply wasn't me. And because of that fine fact, it (whatever it was at the time-- perhaps it was his penis) didn't feel right, and therefore, it couldn't react. It wasn't long after (his fleeting but unfulfilled attempt to sow his wild oats) that he asked me to be his girlfriend. But, not before enduring a series of arguments that lasted hours upon hours on end, countless fervent apologies and wishy-washiness on both our parts-- and as if by magic, we found ourselves profoundly in love and talking about plans for our future, together.
I knew from the day we kissed that he was the "one"; he was the person I would be spending the rest of my existence with. I called my best friend and gushed about how I would be perfectly fine with never kissing another soul again, because I had kissed him and from there on out he would be the only man I'd ever kiss. We never spoke about marriage in a hypothetical manner, it has been certain since the day we casually weaseled it into a conversation. Well, maybe that's a lie, because there were times we said, "When we get married. I mean, if we get married..."
But that was said because at one point we were leaning more towards being life partners than getting wedded. We had seen more than our fair share of unhappy married couples, and with the divorce rate being through the roof, we feared a similar outcome. Both of our parents were divorced, and witnessing firsthand how that divides a family or brings on waves of distress years after the divorce papers were signed, was something we couldn't even fathom for our future selves. But eventually, those if talks were replaced by set in stone whens.
Lately, Steven has asked me question followed by question about what kind of ring I want, if I want my ring engraved on the inside, where and what time of year do I want our wedding to be, and where in the world do I want to go for our honeymoon. All this talk of marriage, and babies, and rebuilding our family home on my great-grandmother's farmland is making me want to run to the altar right now!
I am so happy that the once "I don't want to be in a committed relationship because I like my space" kind of guy has become a man who is ever so faithful, and, although he still likes his space (I don't expect that to change, nor do I want it to), oftentimes he finds himself becoming bored and wanting my company when he is out enjoying his alone time.
Yesterday, he picked me up from my job looking every bit the part of words like dashing and strikingly handsome; clean-shaven and all jazzed up in a suit and tie. On the car ride home, he talked anxiously about the surprise he had waiting for me. I knew he had made us a delicious dinner, but I had no clue what the other surprise(s) could be. When we got home, he told me I had to wait in the bedroom for a little bit while he added the last finishing touches to what he was working on. About thirty minutes later he called me into the kitchen, and ( ... )
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[May 04 2009 / 7:46pm] |
I long for some aspects of my old life. Mostly: going out dancing on weeknights and seeing my friends regularly. Now, don't get me wrong. I am blissfully in love with Steven. If there was a cloud that floated higher than cloud nine, I'd be on it. Still, with our cramped up living space (due to stuff not being emptied out of their boxes and arranged around the loft) and us not knowing anyone in this backwoods town but each other, I feel like we give off the illusion that we're a conjoined couple. I don't know how some people do it; how they become co-dependent on their significant other. I have a life of my own to live, and I want Steven to be a part of it, but not consumed in it. I have had several friends who would drop everything at once at their boyfriend's beck and call. Conversations about everything under the sun were replaced with just one topic: HIM (or her, depending on the situation). Things that were planned in advance would be put on the backburner, when some last minute (made up on a whim) thing with so & so came up. And no girls' night was complete without at least one friend who stayed huddled in a corner, repeatedly text messaging her boyfriend-- and claimed that the 100 texts sent back and forth was an "emergency situation". How convenient that emergencies only seemed to take place anytime a moment was spent away from their significant other. And, all I wanted was for them to disentangle themselves for a few hours before reverting back to 'normalcy'. I refuse with everything in me to be that girl. I will not ask for a rain check (to end up spending more time with the one person I see every single day of my life) when plans are already set in stone. I will not be that girl who incessantly gabs about her boyfriend. And I will not alienate those who I knew long before Steven existed as a thought in my mind.
My love doesn't stop with him. There's plenty to go 'round. I've got some for this friend, and that friend, and you too.
Oh, and I got the job at Victoria's Secret. It's about 30 miles away from my place and the pay is less than stellar, but I'm glad to be joining the work force again.
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goldwillstay's journal
