things that aren't meant to be

hey, remember that time i went to london?

like...four months ago?

geeze- is that all? four months? let's see...thanksgiving, christmas, new years, valentines, st. patrick...yeah. four months. insane.

so. here's an update on all that since then:

i've been shockingly able to ration my cadbury chocolates for FOUR MONTHS. i'm eating a few now in celebration of the great chocolate holiday (aka: easter). seems only fitting to eat REAL cadbury on the pinnacle of all chocolate holidays.

also, since i've gotten back i've tried to keep in touch with new york. i knew he would be going through some tough times, and, honestly, i still held out a smidgen of hope that maybe when he got stationed back stateside...well...something. yanno? like maybe flying over there wasn't a total waste of time.

at first he would message a little bit. that soon changed into "i'm not talking to anyone, i just need my space," which turned into....*crickets*

yeah.

radio silence.

awesome. but i kept checking in like a good stalker friend does.

he slowly started to emerge from his cave and mentioned he was getting back out and getting around people. within a week this turned into "spending the weekend with my girlfriend" which turned quickly into NOT coming back stateside- it would be too hard on his dog to move. so he applied for two different positions in london to extend his tour overseas. 

i'm sorry...WHAT?

the guy that couldn't wait to get away from it all, get back to the states, get back to home and family? now can't move because it's too hard on his dog?

there's supposedly other logistical issues like making the divorce proceedings easier (which still haven't even started) and having to sell or move everything.

i'm surprisingly not even in the least heartbroken about this. it didn't even register on my scale other than this: huh. well, looks like i dodged that bullet.

i know. change of tune for me after flying half way around the world for my "one that got away."

here's what i realized: he's the type of person that can't stand to be alone for even a minute (which happens to be my number one trigger to bail). the sheets had barely cooled before he reached out to me. i had barely landed back stateside when he was starting to spend time with the now girlfriend (actually, interesting note- she "watched movies" with him the night before i got there). he doesn't want to have to move back state side and start looking again.

i got my chance to see the what might have been. i went to london. i'll never regret that i went. i would have regretted staying here and never knowing.

and now i can close that chapter. for good. with no sadness or looking back. it was beautiful for what it was. it's a sweet, young, romantic fairy tale and everyone deserves one of those at some point. mine happened to not be the happily ever after kind. at least this one anyway.

so: goodbye ryan. you'll always be one of my favorite memories.

dirty little secret

so. last week my big spawn started talking about moving in with his dad for high school again. that's a whole other post in itself.

so many questions from that including: would let my son just move across the state without me? what's keeping me here? there's a million more questions (and no answers) that have been swirling around in my head since then, but the biggest thing: WHAT IF I SOLD THE HOUSE AND MOVED? has been sticking with me.

the more i think about it, the more split i am on the decision. here's the problem: i LOVE my house, but i HATE owning it.

i LOVE my house. i love the tourett, i love the front porch. i love having a big lawn for bbqs with a hammock and a fire pit. i love the roses and the flowers and the fruit trees. i love that all my furniture fit perfectly when i bought it. i love that i picked the colors and painted every wall. i love the possibilities and ideas i have for it. i love it for what it could be. i love that i was able to try and say i did it. i owned a house free and clear.

aside from that: i hate owning a house.

the all american dream- a piece of land to call your own. living rent free. something you can fix up and do whatever you want it it.

i have that. and i HATE it.

i HATE property taxes. i have yet to learn to save up to pay them. technically i should be paying myself a little "rent" every month and setting it aside for these. yeah. that's happened. generally i get to april and october and let out a really loud FUCK. how the hell am i going to pay this bill? ok. so all one year. but still. it's almost april. and guess what i didn't do. again. shitballs.

maybe it's because i took on too many projects with too many assholes "helping" me when i moved in. the french doors that "friends" helped me install? still not finished and look like shit.

the hardwood floors that i paid a "friend" of the family to refinish? he used possibly the shittiest finish EVER on them, they're already scratched to hell, he never finished any of the thresholds and didn't reinstalled the molding and 3/4 round (and he's supposedly a professional hardwood floor guy).

the back deck that "friends" helped me redo? the whole thing was done wrong and needs to be taken completely apart and redone.

the kitchen is missing kick boards under the cabinets, the exterior needs repainted, the bathroom needs finished, the basement window needs replaced, the lawn is in desperate need of massive help, the office walls need cornered and textured, the garage door doesn't lock...the list is fucking endless. not to mention the fun little non-toxic whatever that showed up on the walls this year requiring a borax bath every few weeks.

there's just this endless list of shit that needs done...not to mention the stuff from the inspection report when i BOUGHT the damn thing that never got fixed to begin with.

i think possibly the most fucking frustrating part of the whole damn things is yes, i own my home, but i'm still living paycheck to paycheck, can't afford to fix any of the shit, and can't afford to take out a mortgage TO fix any of the shit. my credit took a dive, my bank account went from comfortable five year cushion to cobwebs and i don't feel like i have much to show for it. i never wanted to own a home, it was never on my bucket list. i simply thought i should do something wise with the money that showed up.

and now i have this fucking albatross around my neck that isn't drowning me quite yet, but it also isn't getting me anywhere.

even if it was all fixed. if i had a magic wand to make it all exactly like it is in my head- the whole fix-it list done, all the built in bookshelves installed, all the walls refinished with sheet rock instead of lathe and plaster, all the outlets updated, the knocking out and moving walls redone, the basement finished, the garage rebuilt into a studio, the lawn re-landscaped with a sprinkler system installed...even if all of it was magically done and it was the perfect vision in my head- i'm still STUCK.

i feel trapped now, stuck. that's the worst of it. i don't remember even feeling this stuck when i was locked into a corporate job. granted, when i was corporate i changed locations every few years with it- going to college, back home, to corporate, then out. and in that same time span i moved houses several (13) different times.

i don't like staying put. i don't like feeling locked in. i don't like any of it. i have too much gypsy in me- whether or not i actually do go anywhere, i can't stand having the option missing. maybe i haven't found my roots yet or maybe i'm more of a potted plant.

and i'll gladly admit: i loved having a manager or landlord to call when shit broke. i liked not worrying about property taxes and home owners insurance and water heater repairs. i liked being able to find a new place at the end of a lease if i wanted. i liked change and new and different. sure the actual moving was never fun. but setting up a new house, making it MINE was always fun. i liked the challenge of making things fit in different apartments, making the blank white walls feel like home.

i don't necessarily miss sharing walls with strangers, but is it really much different than sharing a fence line with strangers? i HATE my neighbors now more than i have at pretty much any other place i've lived.

so. i guess what i've decided is that whether i move across the state or across the city, i'm done being a home owner. i want to go back to someone else dealing with the headaches. i want to go back to affordable heating bills and included water/sewer/garbage. i want something new and different again.

i don't know how i'll say goodbye to this house. it's my almost wonderland. it's everything i ever wanted in a house. it's the house that my dad was finally able to buy me like he always wanted. and i wish i could just put down roots and be comfortable in one spot forever, but it's just not me.

 

 

Almost Wonderland

sort it out

it's the second night in a row i haven't been able to sleep. i even let the damn dog back upstairs after spending the weekend cleaning carpets because i wondered if maybe i just missed listening to him snore at the foot of my bed.

no luck.

i know what the problem is. i know there's healthier and better ways to deal with it. i have it all downstairs in a notebook from the 6 week course i just finished.

FOR NOW: i'm handling it the old way that causes insomnia and indigestion stress.

old habits die hard.

i've had my comfort food, i've dyed my hair, i've spend the last few days stressing and trying to come up with ideas and plans and at the end of the day, i'm sitting in bed, crying over an uncertain future, fear, hurt, anger, all of it.

the big spawn thinks he wants to go to live with his dad for high school. it's come up a few times. and i'm sure it will go back and forth for a while more. one day all he can talk about is high school here and his friends and all that. the next day he needs to move over and live with his dad and go to school there and give his dad a chance to be a parent.

i get it. i really do. there's an age when a young man needs his dad around. the shaving, the girls, the sports, all of it. mom just doesn't cut it. i've known it was coming.

i'm trying really hard not to go to some really bad places with this. just when you think you've learned to deal with rejection and all the baggage that can bring...it just pops right up again. and i KNOW my son isn't rejecting me, he just wants his dad, he wants what's different and unknown and intriguing. knowing and feeling are two VERY different things though.

i've reminded him it would be a HUGE change- whole new school, no friends, high school, his dad is in school too, it's away from everything he's ever known, it's LIVING with his dad, not just staying with him for 2 weeks. it's SO MUCH at once. it scares me for him. i know my kid. i know he's smart. i've been raising him to be tough and take on change and take on big things. college is only 4 years away. i know i will have to let him go at some point. i just thought i had 4 more years. and i'm just worried this is too much at once. as smart as he is, i know he's also not the greatest at talking out his issues. and with all those changes there would be ISSUES. i also know he gets very angry and picks fights and acts out when he has issues he doesn't know how to deal with. and i don't know if he and his dad would know how to deal with that. i'm sure they would figure it out. i'm a mom. i worry.

and how could i ever tell my son no to wanting his dad?

i don't want him to be like me. i don't want him to have to wait until it's too late to try to build a relationship. and if some day, god forbid, anything ever happened, i don't want my son to be able to pick up and go about his life like nothing happened.

i don't want him to be 32, realizing he has very few memories, and hasn't really been affected the last two years aside from the occasional momentary break down. i don't want him sitting up one night realizing life went on way too easy and way to quickly for something that should have stopped the world in it's tracks. i don't want him to realize that it can come up in a conversation and be discussed as easily as the weather after only two years. i don't want him to have to live with never even getting to know what he lost.

speaking of the occasional momentary break down.

one paragraph that tooks a full hour to write.

and. dialing it back in.

so.

he's been talking the last few days about moving over with his dad. i honestly don't know if i can let him go. i know it's his choice and all, but that's MY KID. i've spent the last 15 years raising him. i've spent the time working through the temper tantrums and school and homework and all of it. i don't want to miss seeing the good parts- driving, dances, girlfriends, high school...

i know college is coming eventually, but, that's...you know...four years away and totally different.

as different as oranges and mandarins.

and so then i go into over-response mode: i'll just sell the house, get a job over there, pack up, jump on over the mountains with him. TOTALLY LOGICAL.

except...yanno...it itsn't.

i mean- yeah, there's not a whole lot going for me here. i have two part time jobs, no family, a good group of friends i would miss terribly, but i would miss my kid a helluva lot more.

on that side of the mountains there's better jobs, better schools for BOTH spawns, my niece and nephew would be closer, and my old spawn would have his dad.

sell the house, have a cushion for a bit to get settled and locked into a job.

EASY, RIGHT?

oh wait...there's approx a BILLION people on that side of the state. all looking for jobs. and the cost of living is 3 times as much. and there's endless schools to try to pick through. and trying to find a school close to a house close to a job. and there's a million little cities all up and down the coast- do i look way up north by his dad? do i settle in the middle near friends? do i go south near the small piece of family that's left?

there would be great schools for the small spawn, but we'd be looking at another new school, new teachers to battle with, new friends for him to try to make, another BIG change for him. But the school here hasn't been exactly stellar, the kids have been rough at best...maybe a change would be best for him too.

what if the house doesn't sell since there's still more work that needs done to it? does someone really want to buy a house with the most fucked up horrible looking french doors known to man? (ok, a little over dramatic, the contractor did the best he could, but they still look pretty terrible).

and what about me? my support group here is small, but it's damn powerful. could i leave that? i have friends over there too, and would have the spawns dad, but would that be enough for me?

and i honestly don't even know where to start to consider any of it. would i list my house here first so at least it's on the market?

so i look for a high school first? then a middle school? then an apartment that's close to both and then try to find a job in that area?

do i try to find a job first? then pick a high school close to that? and hope there's affordable housing within commute/bus distance for the boys and i both?

how the hell would i pack up this whole place and move it across the state? across town is a giant pain in the ass...what the hell would across the state be like?

is the teenager serious about this? would i really change my whole life to accommodate him (answer is yes). 

it's just...a LOT. then you throw in an unexpected break down and guilt about a kid needing a dad. and i've been itching for change (again) for a while, but this seems a little extreme. and there's just SO MUCH to it.

and i'm supposed to somehow sleep with all this rattling around. thank heavens for pandora, laptop computers and the internet.  

three strikes: i'm not out.

in an unprecedented weekend of suck, i reached a new personal best (or worst as it may be):

i was stood up/cancelled on TWICE in ONE DAY for a date.  this brings the total cancel/stand up to THREE in a week and a half.

that's quite astounding when you think about it.

not sure whether to be proud or drowning my sorrows in a bucket of ben and jerry.

now, here's something for debate: would it have been wise to go on a date when i was high as ben franklin's kite?

then again, have you heard about some of my dates?

the question really should be why would i even consider going on any date SOBER?

some real peaches out there. of the dropped off the tree and half eaten by a squirrel variety.

i'm sure it's the universe's way of telling me that i should just stop looking. again.

online dating sites have NEVER proven successful in even the smallest of ways, perhaps it's time to take the profile down again and just wait and see what's coming down the pipe.

here's the difference between this time and all the other cancel/stand up times:

I DON'T CARE.

well, that's not the right way to say it.

I'M NOT DAMAGED.

there you go.  slightly better.

see, before whenever someone would stand me up or not call back or whatever from the list of a million things, i would take it personally.  i would revert back into the very real dark place of: well, that makes sense, my own family doesn't even like me, why would anyone else like me?

yes, that was a very real place that i spent WAY too many years stuck in. well, my own family rejected me, who would want me. well, my baby daddy rejected me, who would want me? well, my husband rejected me, who would want me?

it's a dark, horrible place. i spent way too much time and effort there over there over the last...15 years.

then i learned something: just because that person (or people) didn't want to be a part of my life doesn't mean someone WILL want to be a part of my life. just because those people didn't think i was good enough DOES NOT MEAN that i'm not good enough.

took a while for that one to sink in.

just because a few people don't think i'm good enough DOES NOT MEAN I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH. i can't change their opinion. i can't understand why they feel that way. it's a waste of time and energy, and it's not how i want to live anymore.

I LIKE ME.

that's damn good enough.

i have friends that like me.

that's damn good enough.

eventually, some other life partner will like me.

and i'm willing to wait for that person.

i'm not willing to change who i am or hide parts of me or feel less than or like i should be so grateful someone finally picked me.

that. is. bullshit. someone will be damn lucky to pick me. not the other way around.

it seems simple enough, but when you've spend the majority of your memorable life feeling not good enough, feeling like when i was rejected or stood up it was because i was broken or not good enough or needed to change something- it's a HUGE difference.

in the last few weeks i've been able to set aside the rejection and the hurt. i've been able to see that i will never understand the WHY behind things and i don't need to. chances are, the person doing the rejection doesn't even fully understand the why. so how the fuck did i think _I_ would figure it out?

i would rather spend my time thinking about the possibilities, the good things in the FUTURE rather than focusing on the shit in the past.

i still feel sadness when i look at the people that reject me- especially family. but it's not a personal sadness any more. it's a saddness that they're missing out on something awesome. it's sadness that they let their own fears or ignorance or close mindedness or whatever rule their lives. it's sadness that they're willing to give up instead of be who they're supposed to be. i feel sad to see them stuck in a small shell of who they're meant to be.

i don't feel rejected though. and that's BIG. i don't feel like i'm not good enough. i know i am. i know that people in my life now love me and accept me. i know that i've only gotten better the more i've learned to love and accept myself. i know that i've gotten happier and more confident as i've learned to quit worrying about THEM and start worrying about ME.

before this turns into too much of a "tree hugging democrat" party (my big spawns latest insult. i don't know either).

sheesh. when did i turn into suzy fucking sunshine?

moral of the story: THREE rejections, ONE AND A HALF WEEKS. and i'm not binging on ben and jerry (well i AM, but that's the munchies from the hydro, not the sadness). i'm not getting all emo. i'm not filling up journal after journal trying to find answers i'll never find (and don't need).

i'm looking forward to whatever is out there that's better because obviously these weren't right. i'm staying positive, i'm becoming a real tree hugging democrat.  damn.