Giving it all away…

Take it. Keep it.

Take the tears. You can have them. You are one boy taking away all the guilt for now… because, for now, you are the one I blame.

You hold onto this and I am going to let go.. I can’t suffer anymore.

Typical me.. “you have a great heart, you just didn’t know how to use it..”

You never had the right words. That’s ok, and I see this now because if I sit around holding these feelings in my heart I will only create my own doom.

Take your drama, take your immaturity, take your new girls, old girls, just take it all..

You don’t deserve such a woman in her own denial.. you are a weak man yourself.

I want to give you my memories, my thoughts, my emotions…

She’s always had wings.

Still to this day you break my heart.

I don’t know how you got such a grasp on me, but your hold on me weighs me down.

The one person I called Love. The ONE I told my family about. The one I held.

There’s no promise for you. I know this now. You were merely a pipe dream.

A man of many masks.

I may worry about you, I may still love you, but you haven’t EVER been you.

Falling in love with someone who isn’t even their self isn’t my idea of a good time, I just wish there were more bad times. It’d make this easier.

Oh what can I do

I want to scream in the phone.

I want to scream in your face!

From the moment we met up I knew you’d break this heart of mine.  Too good to be true… I commend you. Move to Hollywood.  It suits you.

Rocking a mind takes some talent, you own your lies like you own your possessions. How close you keep them, and how very little you let them go out of your sight.

Good enough hasn’t been a concern.. and I see consumption doesn’t ever satisfy.

What you understand and what is actually happening are two different updates.  In my heart I’m wishing a better path for you in sake of 3. Beyond that, our path should remain separate. We’ll go on in our years, watching different trees mature, time fly by.. but really we’ll always exist under the same moon.

Something from inside, a look up

I don’t understand why I’m so emotional.

I start to hold back tears and the back of my chest pushes out breath with a sound.. a sound knew I had forgot but rings common to my ears.

I walk away from my spot. Maybe you’ve come to see me in my chair.. my back against the wall.. so I can see you all.

Maybe you’ve thought of it as a position I’ve held for a long time; being the one looking out..

Maybe what I’ve shown is not who I am. Maybe I’m something different but you’ve never given me the chance to hold other grounds.

When I did walk away I looked up.  I saw an airplane.  I thought about all those people on a journey.

Some who are whisking away to a happier place (full of family, full of love, full of job opportunities, full of hope for a better life) – then I thought of the sad (flying to say goodbye, flying home to a place they knew held hurt, turning a old leaf over once again) – then there was a desire.. a need to get out.. a need to get away and couldn’t help but think there was someone up there unaware.

I wanted to be on that plane. I wanted someone to be looking up at me.. wondering what I was feeling.. was I the girl? Not the girl for you, but the girl who just hurt… with no range, no end, no understanding….

You are amazing, you.. you have been there and it shakes my butterflies.

I don’t want to let you go but …

The word “but” is always the brick to the face. It says “hi, I’m here, you know it.. it hurts like no other, but you have no choice to feel the pain.”

I feel. I hurt. It’s a sign of life. I am grateful I have breath.

In between

I met my match.

I made the same mistake over and over again and it finally caught up with me.

This mistake has changed my life so much.. it will haunt me for years to come.

I’m just wondering when I get to stop paying for it.

I didn’t hurt anyone, I only hurt myself. In the scheme of things, yes, it affected numerous lives around me.. but I am the one who has to suffer every true piece.

As much as I’m convinced otherwise it’s affected my love life even to today.. 8 months later. I can’t even believe it’s creeping towards the year mark.

I can see it in his eyes.. I’m helpless and he can’t save me. He wants to believe I’ll hop right out of this slump but the end is not visible to me.

I’ve come to terms with failure, defeat, helplessness, being at one’s mercy…

We have a lot going on, we have so much together.. to lose someone over this mistake twice… every part of my life has suffered except for love.

I don’t pray but I’m putting a lot of faith in someone to believe that something like this doesn’t define me……

No one got hurt but me, thank goodness..

First and last DUI.

This lil itty bitty heart of mine…

She’s fragile.

She doesn’t want to let anyone in. Call me jaded… I guess I’ve always fell back on that, because it puts the cement in my wall.  It keeps my bricks together.

I have someone I enter-twine with.. and I have these stupid moments where I get mixed up.. and think too much.

I am so beside that feeling now.

My Rajah is hurting.. and I have to go say goodbye.

No more drool on my skin, no more lil kisses and mild meows.. no more memories.

how do you say goodbye to a pet?  I mean she was a massive part of my life.  She has seen the good, the bad.. loved every boyfriend, and loved them all the same.. never knowing they broke my heart.  She’s been my Precious since the day I picked her up at Humane Society.  She was labeled “Pouncer” and we renamed her b/c she totally wasn’t a Pouncer.

She is Rajah.

The most majestic, lovely, kitten.  I remember her the day I got her.  I’m going to get the pic and post as soon as my Mom gets it for me.  I’ve had boyfriends that have hated cats.. and loved her.

There’s a reason.

Listen to Norah Jones “The Long Day is Over” and tell me you can’t feel it.

She would wake up next to me when I was in high school and shift.. walk over my boobs, I would get so mad.

She would sit in the kitchen and I would just whisper “Precious” and she would run to my bedroom to hit the sack.

She would lay on the kitchen floor with me and my friends when we were up late to eat snacks.

She would curl into your body in bed, like she was one with you.

She would put her head down and nuzzle you – didn’t matter who you were.

I am just swollen with ache.. and somehow the tears keep coming.

I knew the day would come, and I don’t want her to suffer.. hence my horrid decision. I’m just gunna go see my Raj, spend all the time I can before she goes, and give her a million kisses.

xoRajxo

Reflection..

A time so sit amongst yourself and reflect upon those things which plague or satisfy your mind.

That is my definition.

I would think you would typically do this alone, in quiet, in a chosen peaceful place.  I however chose to use words, or photography to reflect upon my thoughts.

Lately, writing a post and leaving it unfinished has been a pattern for me.  I’m really good at starting something, and leaving the finale for a later date.  As irritating as it sounds to you, it’s worse for me.  I’m thinking my thoughts and ADD are in a whirlpool and even they don’t know where they’re going.  It’s hard to describe, but it’s like living in constant motivation to complete a task, or go run an errand, and not having the means to do so.  Like for instance- knowing you need to go to the country store 40 miles away, but you don’t have a car.. yet my grocery store is like 1.2 miles away, and my car still runs.

A constant pour of luck (no jobs, don’t get excited, oh wait.. that’s me) and love has come my way since I’ve been laid off.  I’m in a whirlwind of people to call, Email, visit.. and I just can’t keep up.  You’d think I’d have all the time in the world… but yet my stress has weighed heavy on my heart.  I love change, I love the unknown.. but my life has always felt so good when there’s a plan.. yet as I reflect, there’s never been a plan.

I move a lot, I’ve never owned my own place, I’ve never rented my own place until now..

I date guys with a big heart, but it always turns out sour.

I sit down and I write and write and write, but I never post.

Sometimes even thought you have faith in yourself, and your dreams.. you start to lose luster in those dreams and gain a sense of survival.  Although you maybe go a little stircrazy in this time, you have to reflect on the good times, and never let yourself down.  I’m reaching out to this, and trying to live vicariously through the old me, the strong me, the ME that knows I can get through this.

Right now I’m feeling a little neutral, but I’m challenging myself to try and figure out what I can do to get myself into gear.

The competition never stops, the drive never ends, it’s always there.  It’s YOU that can put in park, or chose to drive.

The disintegration of a couple

Of all the things I have failed at, I think coupledom is my grandest.

I’ve lost myself over the years, living in relationships I worked so hard at, yet I sincerely think my heart wasn’t there.  They were relationships out of convenience, out of control, and far past what I expected them to be.  I don’t believe that we only have one soul mate.  I am an avid believer in many loves, and I know that makes me who I am.  I can lose love, and have faith in knowing there’s another one.. no matter how many.  I guess after my last relationship I lost some faith.  I’ve always joked with friend for years that I have “a switch”.  I think this “switch” is off for a while.  I don’t get attached, I don’t want to be attached.. and it’s weird because everyone around me is falling in love.

My “switch” is something I have referred to since high school, after a 3 year relationship (all of high school almost) drama was finally over.  I lost friends over it, I lost myself, and I lost a piece of me.  I DO know why it hurt so bad.  Between the cheating, lying, and tangled webs, it was a sour high school romance destine to fail.  I always swore I’d marry a man with the same last name as my Father.  That was I could be the girl that carried on her Daddy’s last name, and never had to change my signature (hahahha).  I know now that it was silly.  All the other girls dreamed of Princess dresses, and fairytale weddings, and I just wanted to make my Dad proud.  I’ve dated two men with the same last name.

My Mom and Dad met much later in life, and so there’s an awesome piece of me that knows I’m in no hurry to find a man to share the rest of my life with, yet I have an overwhelming sense of sadness knowing I’m getting to age where (only because of my recent experiences) that there are an amazing amount of men desperate to be married.  You’d think, as a girl, it would be easy to find a man to enjoy time with (when we have time) and yet not have to worry about getting into all the drama of a relationship.

Recently someone said I was just like a guy, just wanting what I want, and nothing else.  I have been spending time with someone, just like me, enjoying his company.  I guess in public you’d think we were a couple.. but I don’t have to hold his hand, or snuggle on the couch.. because I’m just me.  It’s just two people enjoying the other.  However, he gets butthurt when I am too busy, or unwilling to make it to his side of town.  He recently bickered with me about something, and my return statement was “if I wanted to bicker, I’d be dating”.  He likes our arrangement, but he’s allergic to cats, so I understand why he hasn’t been by my place.  It’s always my effort to go there, so therefor it’s on my terms.

I was going through my closet, cleaning and arranging, and found pictures of my 4 yr. relationship.  It’s hard because I can just SEE how happy we were.  Eventually the feeling swept over me, and I went back to the day I begged him to talk to me and what I heard, broke my heart.  I look around our pictures of our apartments, and say “that’s mine, that was his, I forgot to get that back..” and think how hard it was to move away from the home we made.  All the memories, the friends, the thought of always having him by my side.

Now I am in my very own place.  Today I am cleaning, and getting rid of some things.  I have RARELY ever thrown away photos.  Those are memories, good or bad, and the pack rat in me thinks it’s wrong to get rid of them.  Today I took a big step for pack rats.  I threw out a ton of photos of me and my most recent ex.  The memories aren’t that great, and I honestly can only remember one really truly incredible moment.  We had good and bad, but there was one day I just was bursting from the inside.

We were driving to Page, AZ to go to my Nephew’s wedding.  He was meeting my parents for the first time.  You have to drive through all these hills, and I was so freaked out, because I hate curvy roads in the mountains.  He drove so slow, played awesome classic rock, and we sang and smiled the whole way there.  Midway through I wanted to tel him I loved him.  I just couldn’t stop looking at him, and smiling.  That night in the hotel, I bursted.  I couldn’t hold back, and he said it back.  I was in love, once again, with this man whom I thought was the best slice of pie.  It made me so happy.

Out of all the rotten things we’ve been through, I don’t regret where I am.  I’m glad to have rid myself of him.  A lot of things change once you move in with someone.  I had done it before, and thought nothing of it after knowing this man for 5 years.  Lesson learned.

So throwing away some, yes some, of the memories actually feels really good.  We were just too different.  We had nothing in common.  I remember the day I moved out I left him things that were mine, because I felt bad I took everything out of that place.  I mean, really, all my things made it a home.. all the pictures/frames were mine, the cozy things, etc. etc.  I even took my trash can.. but I left him a few bags for his old one.

I’m not a romantic, really..

The only little thing that I miss, are kisses.  THOSE, my friends, weaken me.

A girl who wanted to be a writer, who never ended up as a writer..

I spent most of my teenage life typing furiously away on my keyboard, or jaunting down thoughts and stories in a notebook.

I excelled in English, and found a passion no one I associated with could understand.  I eventually decided on Photojournalism, or “Photocommunications” as the school called it, and I was dead set.

I modeled for a while early on, and had my heart set on that too. I had this whole plan of making money in commercial print, then moving to CA so I could go to Brook’s Institute, and pursue a career in Photocommunications.  However, eventually because of ridiculous thoughts planted in my head from the boyfriend of 3 years, and friends, I stayed in AZ.

What do I regret in my life?

Never taking that chance.  I let everyone but me decide my destiny.  Photography is my passion.  I don’t even own a working camera right now, and it kills me everyday.  I went from enjoying the camera on either side, to just wanting to be the one who snaps the moment.  I do regret some things in my life.  I know you shouldn’t, but I think it’s my human right to do so.

I used to write like no other.  I used to stay after with my English teachers to talk about how to improve my writing.  Now because I’ve been out of school so long, I doubt my spelling at times.  I lose inspiration as the days go on.  I have moments of brilliance, and moments of stupidity.  I just wish I had that passion I once had, years ago.

My goal is to get a camera, no matter what kind, back in my hand.  I think my writing stems from my visions, and without those moments captured in time, I lose myself and forget.  Hence my 365.  It may not be taken with the best camera, but it means something to me.  It’s letting me capture a moment, capture a feeling, and let’s me write about my day, even in layman’s terms.  SO please bare with me, I’m learning my way once again.  I’m open to new things, and hoping they only expand my path so I can lead myself back to the path I once wanted to travel.

I may be broke, but I’m NOT eating Ramen noodles.

For the first time at 27 I’m living alone.  I never went off to college like so many people have.  I’ve never had student loans, or lived in a dorm.. I’ve always had roommates, and I’ve lived with two boyfriends.

So when I moved out on my own, quite hastily, I knew I’d be having moments like I am now.

I NEVER eat frozen dinners, and I just got home from the grocery store with 10 for $10 Michelina’s dinners for lunch the next 10 days.  My habits make me sick when I think about the fact I’ll be eating Mac n Cheese Bake, Chili Mac, and Chicken Broccoli Alfredo pasta for lunch at work, did I mention for TEN DAYS?!  I eat out all the time, I smoke, and god knows I can’t resist a Sunday early brunch at my old bar with a minimal bar tab!  If only I could learn to save more during the week, and just start cooking again.

I used to be sooo good at cooking and planning meals for lunch.  I used to eat at my desk, and never worry about being questioned with “where do you want to go for lunch?!?!” every day.  When I had roommates, I would never stress about spending $120 at Target, or buying $300 worth of clothes/shoes online.  Nowadays, I’m buying my cats cheap food to get them through, and stocking up on items that I’d never normally even put in my freezer.

So now I will put myself to the test.  How and can I live thru this next 8 days on next to nothing, and how can I change my ways one that paycheck hits the bank?  I’ve put together a plan, and this is something I can NOT and WILL not procrastinate on.

I am notorious for putting things off.. and now that I will have PLENTY of time to sit at home the next week and a half, I’m going to start the change now.

Sometimes at night, I will pull the clothes out of the dryer (if it doesn’t get hung up, it gets thrown in a drawer) and if it doesn’t get hung up, I don’t care if it’s wrinkly, so I’ll throw it on my kitchen counter.  There it sits for 2-3 days til I get around to putting it away.  I’m done.  I’m done looking at clothes on my counter, and pulling a dish out of the dishwasher because I was too lazy to put it away after they were clean. Take action, improve your life- that’s my new motto.

I’ve been in a slump about cooking.  Not anymore.  For me, cooking is a social thing, whether there be two parties, or more.  Now it’s a ME thing, and I’m not going to put off cooking because there’s no one else there to enjoy it.  Plan out lunches, stop eating out, and get smart again.  I shall suffer through these days of frozen lunches, and in turn stirring up the motivation to stop the nonsense.  I will treat myself once a week to a reasonably priced, non fast food meal.  That I will try to reflect into my weekend as well.  Unless some kind man decides to treat me otherwise.  I would only be so lucky if I could return the favor as well…  

I guess I can only blog from now, letting everyone (all three of you) know how my sheer torture is going.  I started off on one track, and ended up on a different train.  Bare with me people, I may be eating pasta tonight, but at least it’s not Ramen.  I’d rather starve.