Sunday, June 12, 2011

Oy. On Dating & Baggage......

12-June-2011
Oy. On Dating & Baggage………..

It is the summer month of June. It is 2:30am. It is so chilly outside- feels like the mid to high 50’s, but I cannot stand for the windows to be closed up tight. I’m sitting here at the computer in my pj’s (a tanktop that read GI Girl from about ten years ago, and green plaid flannel boxers that are probably older than the tank). I’m chilly. But the crisp air is refreshing to me, and I can hear the wind outside dancing through the treetops. I’m smiling. There is an element to the air that makes me feel the same feeling I had on early fall mornings when I would be getting ready for school, when the school year was still young, and there was surprise and adventure in each day.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Hah- isn’t that what I do with all this time I have? Indeed- I think… well. I do. Think. About stuff. About this, that & everything in between. I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships & even the pseudo relationships I have had throughout my entire life. This week specifically things came up from the depths of my memory bank with no warning really. “T” called me the other morning. Which is weird, because it has been awhile since I have talked to him. There really isn’t anything more to say to him. We spent every waking moment together for a few months last year, but things just never progressed. He once told me he didn’t know whether to fight with me or kiss me. Then he hung up on me, I texted him that he should kiss me. And that just ended badly for me- I put my pride on the line, and smash. Crunch. Fizzle. That wasn’t what he wanted. So we were just friends. With no benefits. Which in the longrun was healthier for me. But the fact that we were practically a couple, except for the physical ‘stuff’ – which there were hints of physical attraction, just no home run. Fuck- not even 1st base… it just made me feel really insecure about myself- I made myself believe something was dreadfully wrong with me. Then he deleted me from his facebook, and told me he was following every comment anyone would make & he would be really upset when someone would make lewd remarks on any of my posts, and he was becoming obsessed with me, spending all of his time online cockblocking other people, even though he didn’t seem to want a real relationship with me. SO FUCKED UP. But, there were no other offers really- except from some of the sleazy guys at my new job. So I just waited it out…  I’ve once again been thinking about how much time I have wasted hoping & calculating & trying so hard. GOD HELP ME. I should know better… I cannot change myself to become a better fit for another person. I have to just be myself.

Leading up to this time being spent with “T” I had a fling of some sort with “D”…. D & I had been friends on facebook & myspace & we had several mutual friends around town. We finally met at an art show that he was performing at. He was ever so charming & charismatic. He was a performer. Smart. Totally full of himself, but somehow had a way of making me feel like the bee’s knees. I remember we texted back and forth a few times. Then he called me one day- I was actually out on a run on my beloved RiverTrail. He asked if I wanted to go out on a date. Wow. D the hotshot performer wanted to take me out on a date?!! I agreed to go of course. He was always so vibrant and made me feel excited about being my vibrant self. I remember what I wore on that first date- jeans that looked just perfect on my ass, and stripey stockings underneath- but I wore the tights, as an insurance of a chastity belt of sorts. I know myself. I need all the insurance I can find. Hardy har har. Jokes on me once again. We went to an eclectic restaurant & he was very attentive to me being me. He wanted to know all my ideas, he wanted to network & integrate our art for the better of the city- for the better of the world. I really thought he meant it. He didn’t. I wouldn’t find that out until after the short-lived fling when he encouraged me to sleep with his friends & told me he believes in open relationships & I could call him anytime I needed to get off- he would be more than happy to oblige me, unless of course, he was with one of his many other lovers. I felt sick. Stunned. And sick. And angry.
The only good thing that came of that whole crazy experience was the roadtrip when we went to Chicago for a Burning Man event party. D, me, & three of his friends piled into his van, and we went on our trip. Three guys, two girls. Plenty of beer, whiskey & sex talk. We got to Chicago, and it was evident things were just different. I was wearing one of my favorite burlesquey outfits. The party was packed. We had climbed to the loft & were listening to the house music just chilling. As I was descending from the loft, a young kid screamed to me- OMG! AMANDA FUCKING PALMER!!!!!!! (I was indeed wearing fishnets & stripey stocking thigh-highs & black boots of some sort & my corsety-bodice thing that I love….) D was pissed that he was not the center of attention, and at that point I knew it wasn’t what I had been hoping for... But my god- that kid ran up to me, hugged me, kissed me & dragged me to his group of friends that all agreed I looked just like AFP. I nearly peed my black lacy boyshorts. The fucking bitch that I love to hate to love. Fuck. I love her. And I somehow passed as her at that party- I did tell them I was indeed NOT Amanda Palmer, and I did not know where she or Neil Gaiman was at that time… hehehe In the midst of my heartache of once again a potential relationship completely fizzling out, making me feel really used & unloved- at least I got mistaken for the woman whose music had inspired me and had started me on the path of my emotional freedom. Ok. I’m just going to say it. I fucking love Amanda Palmer. And on some level I am still dealing with anger & hurt from D… this whole memory became fresh in my mind because I had dinner the other night with M who was the other woman on that roadtrip. She had mentioned how fun it would be to be D’s groupies, and I almost spit out my food in disgust. I will not be a groupie for anyone. Save Brian Viglione & perhaps some clowns I have met through the years. Overall, I think I have had more than my fill of performers (at least of the douchebag variety). I don’t think I am meant to be with someone who continually needs to have the universe revolve around them… There needs to be balance.

All this baggage I have that I continue to haul around- dragging it around in my daily living & more importantly from potential relationship to potential relationship. I have issues of never feeling good enough. I have issues of mistrust. I have issues of being abused. All of this shit I keep covered up in my giant suitcase. I am just so tired of always lugging it around. I feel like it is high time for me to unzip the cover off of this piece of luggage and take everything out- piece by piece- to examine everything- really weighing the pros and cons of whether I need to keep it or toss it. I need to think about all of this stuff- not just throw it out, but I need to face it. I need to remember what it meant to me, before I can let it go. Because I need to let a lot of this stuff go. It’s getting too heavy for me to carry around. When I get too tired of carrying it, I can’t help but ask others to help me carry it, and no one wants to carry this shit around for me. I guess one way I am using writing is to unpack this suitcase & look over all this shit so I know what it is I am carrying to & fro. Again, I’m not writing for pity- we all have shit that has happened to us. I am just chosing to write as a means to get it out of me. So I can be healthier.  I also think it is really important to examine what happened, and what lead us (in this case me) to get hurt- especially if there seems to be a pattern, which there does for me. I want this pattern to break- so I do not continue to put myself in situations where I get used & abused or treated in a manner that makes me feel bad about myself.

I deserve more than what I have settled for & even strived for in the past. I am worthy of love, as I love others- wholeheartedly. And for the first time in my life, I am not just saying it or typing it- I really truly mean it. And I feel good about stating this as a fact. This is a new leaf to turn over- the leaf of living honestly. It might hurt a bit, but change & pruning brings about new healthy growth. I’m ready to grow. <3

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