Lost In The Wild

[LostInTheWild]

There's always a moment when an animal realizes it is better to give up. There is a moment before it dies that it stops fighting. It accepts that this is the way life is and this is the way it should be.

 

The antelope is starving and finds a patch of grass...

 

On Friday night, I decided to go out to my favorite pub to buy myself some dinner and have a couple of drinks. I had a stressful day at work, one week into it, and I was already getting in trouble for not meeting my manager's standards.

 

I sat down at the bar and my favorite bartender was there. He glanced over at me lovingly and then we shared some abusive obscenities back and forth. He chose my drink for me and offered me a menu. I was delighted to have a burger there. I was ready to enjoy a couple of hours there and head straight home.

 

I always intend to do that. Always. But of course an older, single gentleman parked himself next to me and the night began. We went to sing karaoke. We went to an upscale lounge. We went dancing. And then we decided to get breakfast. It was a long night and I wasn't feeling too shabby. Why not? Let's go.

 

I drove.

 

Little does the antelope know, a cheetah is lurking in the tall, dead grass, blending in, well-prepared and unleashes his terrible fury...

 

The red and blue lights flashed in my rear view mirror. I pulled off to the side of the road and whispered to the passenger, whom I didn't care for and still don't, "Tonight, I am going to get a DUI."

 

"I am pulling you over because you have a headlight out. License and registration please."

 

My passenger offers, "Breathe in and breath out. Deeply, and slowly. You'll be fine."

 

He speeds up and the antelope looks up too late. The cheetah's eyes are bold and glaring, beaming at the sign of fear. The antelope reacts too late and there begins a painful survival mechanism: run like hell...

 

The officer returns to the side of my car.

 

"I smell alcohol on your breath. How much have you had to drink tonight? Please step out of the car. Would you submit to a sobriety test?"

 

The antelope breathes in and pushes the earth away from each hoof as they dig in, begging for more momentum. Much to the antelope's dismay, the cheetah has his claws already buried in her back, but she cannot yell for help...

 

On the line I stood and succumbed to fear. I began to shake. The light blinded my eyes and the cops stood around me. This is my ticket. Don't mess this up.

 

The antelope collapses under the great weight of the cheetah. Tingling, burning sensations tear through her skin and into her soul. The cheetah, knowing he has no choice,eat or starve, grabs her by her throat...

 

"I am placing you under arrest for a suspected DUI."

 

Click, click. Nothing ran through my mind. Just be a lady. Just be graceful.

 

The cheetah holds her down. She knows now. She knows that this is what life is like. Maybe if she had stayed with her heard, maybe if she had taken a different route, maybe if she had used some sense...

 

"Please have a seat in the back of the car. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

And she knows that fighting will only make the inevitable worse. She has her moment before she stops breathing. Her life flashes before her eyes and she remains still, in the calm of her impending doom. Guaranteed. Eyes wide open, she looks into the blue sky, and understands what it all meant...

 

I sat at the station and thought about my passenger. He's gone now. Oh well.

 

I never panicked. I never pleaded. I never cried. It was just like being the antelope, only being who I am, and having endured far worse. This was a walk in the park, and if I should have had a point where I felt anger or fear, it was for all the wrong reasons, and I never had that moment of not wanting this to happen. I've already been stripped of everything. All I have had since I've started this thread is my job, and if I can protect that, then there is no need to panic.

 

 

The weekend continued with the passenger. He didn't disappear as originally thought. The next couple of days he hung around. A cheapskate, 40-year-old *******. Yay. I got pulled over for hanging out with this all night. At least if it were Johnny Depp or the like, I'd have been a bit more pleased. It's important to note I never slept with him.

 

1. He wanted to create a false sense of intimacy by hanging all over me and trying to kiss me. He said he wanted to "marry" me in less than 24 hours.

 

That doesn't work on me.

 

2. He kept trying to convince me that because I didn't want to hang all over him like he was the best invention since the toaster that I'm emotionally damaged...er, rather, I'm too "guarded."

 

There is a reason I don't like salesmen.

 

3. He slapped my ass.

 

He doesn't know that I view that as a sign of disrespect.

 

4. He told me what he thought I should pay for (get the taxi, pull up Uber on your phone) and that I should be grateful he is paying for so much (can't you just say thank you since I drove you out here?). He asked me to pay for gas since he drove me out to another city for our first official date (since the cops were present the first night) on Saturday.

 

The fastest way out the door is making me crack open my wallet instead of letting me offer to pay.

 

5. He rolled down all the windows in the car to freeze me on the way home because I was sleeping and he had no one to keep him awake.

 

I wanted to punch him in the face.

 

6. He asked to crash at my place. I agreed, but stood outside smoking so that I knew he'd be asleep.

 

I smoked because I know he hates it.

 

7. He wakes me up in the morning by talking in my face (even though I'm CLEARLY still asleep) and elbowing me in the ribcage. Trying to KISS me.

 

I ignored him and went back to sleep.

 

8. Despite my insistence on saving my money (for my much-needed attorney that he knows I need - he was there!), he said we should get breakfast...and later mentioned *I* should buy it for him.

 

I did it anyway because I was hungry, but I still wanted to punch him in his dumb ****ing face.

 

9. He thinks I will let him handle my 401K since I left my job and have access to it. He is an investor, but apparently he can't afford a couple of dates. So why should I trust him with my money?

 

He says, "Give me a call, I will move those funds for you." Yeah, he's trying to be helpful. I smile and nod okay. But I'm really thinking, "HAHAHAHAHA! That's what YOU think!"

 

10. I think he's ugly. At first I thought he was nice and if he hadn't pressured me so much, I was willing to try to allow the attraction grow ( I give people chances). Instead he snuffed it all out by trying to get me to fall hard and blaming me when I didn't react the way he wanted me to.

 

And after the point where I realized I hated him, I noticed his potbelly, his triple chins, and his horrible fashion sense - pink, wrinkly polo shirt, black jeans, brown loafers - hell no. What happened? He dressed well the night prior.

 

11. He's on Tinder.

 

He freely offered this information.

 

12. He's religious to the point of pushing his beliefs on me. Also, every time I asked him a serious question, "Well, a priest once told me...and he was in a wheelchair...the most beautiful man I'd ever seen..." And at the end of his story I'd say, "So what's your answer to my question? My question has nothing to do with what the priest told you."

 

I'm an atheist. The final straw was when he asked, "Will you come to church with me when I go?" Looking too far into the future aren't we?

 

13. EW...

 

Hey...where's my break? I never got to have a moment to MYSELF. He was around the whole TIME!!!

 

14. EwwwWWWWWwwww...

 

15. Arghhh.....eewwwww...I had chills when he left - not a good omen. And when we were in the city in which I had gone to with The European a year ago, it was like going home for me. I stood at the harbor wishing I'd run into him, and my heart broke. I wanted him again. I wished and wished. I begged and prayed. I looked up at the sky and screamed in my mind, hoping he could hear me. Ah, the things we tell ourselves...

 

The denial of it all...

 

I've had it. I've had it. I've had it.

 

 

So here I sit in acceptance. Acceptance that I will never meet the man for me (or a normal one, for that matter), quite possibly a self-fulfilling prophecy. I indulge in the fantasy of meeting one some day on some of my spare time, but I rarely have a moment to think of it anymore anyway. The only time the pangs of hunger rouse me is when I see someone in embrace on TV and I wonder what it even feels like to feel that way for another person. I shrug it off...Maybe I'll get another chance if we live more than one life.

 

My life is about to change again. I accept it. I don't fight change anymore, good or bad. I told my therapist that I think community service is a good thing. Maybe I can find a passion for life there. I'm peacefully, abnormally calm about everything.

 

I think I'm broken. I finally broke something.

Edited April 23, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

I could feel it. I felt my mind begging for another look. Another look at his Facebook profile. So I did. I guess I'm an official stalker now.

 

The guy I thought was married...

 

He still is.

 

His wife remains happy and blissfully unaware. She posts their wedding pictures for their anniversaries apparently. There's my closure. Good luck. I don't have the energy to rehash it all to her. If her marriage is suffering it will break eventually and not by my own doing.

 

When I discovered the blip, it broke my heart all over again. It wasn't painful. It just hurt to know that this is the skin I'm living in and my life will be hollow like this. Always. Hurting. In. Some. Way. Alone.

 

My exs girlfriend finally posted a picture of her child. He has his eyes. I always imagined that would be us. And it's not.

 

Now it's just me. In the wild. Lost. Forever. I look forward to this being over. Metaphorically. Or literally. I'm tired. I feel like I'm 90. I've seen everything. Nothing is new. Nothing surprises me anymore. All I have to offer is tender advice and opinion, while living through my greatest fear—living to work. I can't wait to go back to work and sit at my desk to goof around with my coworkers. Sigh.

 

I still take care of myself, however. It's hard to lose the last ten pounds but I'm still thin and apparently still attractive so why not preserve the last bit of youth I still have that at least keeps me going in the morning throughout the week. I live to work. I live to dress up for work.

 

This week, I buy my attorney. Even though I haven't received one lick of paperwork. And I still do not feel anything. I'm still happy. With myself and with my life. I'm past being mentally prepared and above it all in my mind. I do not feel fear. I do not feel shame. I do not feel bad because society says I should. I feel like myself.

 

Still, I wonder what finding a mate will be like now. Do I have to change my mental checklist now? Because I'm a piece of scumbag trash that society deems me to be? So I guess I'm only allowed to date lowlifes now. I belong in jail and should be sunk to the bottom of the sea with three cases of the finest attached to my ankle. A raging alcoholic for blowing off steam and God forbid actually smiling for once. That makes no sense to me. And I still find myself unwanting to settle. I can't. And believe it or not I don't drink much anymore. It's too many calories. I'm sure that's going to hurt me in the long run.

 

The passenger tries to get me to see him. I refuse each time. I hate him. He wants me to be someone I'm not. Just like everyone else. People look at me and expect me to be a certain type when I'm not. I wonder when I'll stop disappointing people. I wonder when I'll stop disappointing the people who love me because I certainly don't disappoint myself. I'm happy in the perpetual state of being me. It's taken me a long time to get here. I've arrived. And I won't let anyone tell me to fear life. I breathe it in. I absorb it. And I'm high. On life. In my own way that allows me to exist. Even if I do feel empty.

 

I drew in a deep breath and pushed it out to my belly while looking in the mirror I so long forgot, which it isn't difficult to look at my reflection anymore, and I observed my belly. A baby. Inside. What joy it would bring me now that I've calmed down so much. I imagined someone behind me happy to know that what I was carrying was his, rubbing his hands over my tummy, whispering that the surprise nursery was ready.

 

At my age I should be there I suppose. I exhaled the thought of a baby and the thought of a man I trusted with my life and the life of a child. Most days I don't even want one, let alone the affections of a male. What would it get me anyway? A lovely divorce, a child on the hip, and a sad job I'd die for any day.

 

What do I have to offer anyone anymore? Absolutely nothing. It's better to have loved and lost, my thoughts trailed off.

 

Nearly two years later and I'm nowhere near what my ex or friends have. I marvel at it. I tinker with the thought. I bleed every month so it reminds me. I laugh at myself when I see two people dressed alike. I laugh in my heart because I know I'm not cut out for it. I'm not one of those people who bounce from love to love until it sticks.

 

I don't even remember what my last relationship was like. I don't recall what butterflies feel like. I don't remember what it's like to be attracted to someone. I don't know how to let anyone in. It's been decided for me with my years of torment and pain. I'm not allowed to have it. Some days are better than others but I'm mostly okay with not loving anyone. I'm okay with being alone. And I'm happy just being. And working. Even if that was my greatest fear.

 

And I just found out a cousin of mine died whom I wasn't close to. He was a nice man.

 

Now what?

Edited May 3, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

Ever since last month happened, I've been doing some soul searching that I maybe should have done many years ago.

 

I've been spending a lot of time alone. Copious, extravagant amounts of time alone. I think the last time I hung out with a friend was over two weeks ago and before that it was pretty much the same type of deal. This has made one thing certain in my mind: it's very, very comfortable being alone and being able to be who I am at all points in time. There is no emotional exhaustion from trying to keep someone entertained. I'm always fully charged and ready to flash a smile to an unsuspecting stranger. I'm more eager to have the conversations that previously left me bored. "Oh you love your kids? Tell me more about them! They love soccer? AWESOME!" And then I listen to what is said. I feel more...human these days. I understand I'm an outsider if I truly want to be one.

 

I've been walking most days each week, and picked up my favorite past time again: running like a wild woman. I'm there when I look in the mirror, and the spark is in my eyes. My smile isn't broken. I exercise this about myself when I walk down the street. I walk by the river in the park and absorb the beauty of where I'm living. The weather is beautiful here now and every day it feels like I'm on vacation when I get to see the water twinkling in the sunlight and the droves of geese calmly walking around with their goslings. Life is beautiful. I don't know if I'm just having a good day but I haven't felt bad for a long time.

 

I sit in traffic frequently, and I never get mad anymore. I used to. I used to have road rage nearly every day I drove, but since moving out here I've come to accept that I'll get where I'm going when I get there. I've accepted that's the way everything is in life, and if the car breaks down then I wasn't meant to get there when I was supposed to be there. Without having a man around, I feel much more positive about myself. I'm so glad I can be discriminating on who I choose should the opportunities ebb and flow like they have been. I don't regret anything.

 

Since I got my new position (which I hate the company but hey, I'm trying to make it work), I've been taking much better care of myself and my finances. I'm even looking for a new job awhile in case this one doesn't pan out and I'm hoping to make more money. I've been cooking nearly every day - happy, hearty, healthy meals and it makes me reflect on my past...my vegan stage, my lean cuisine stage, my not eating stage, and my eating out stage...right up to the point where I just want to cook healthy meals. I'm a great cook. Dad is proud. I'm enjoying the time I don't have children or someone to bother me. I take my time while doing my hair, working on flaws, prepping my skin, doing my nails, exercising...It feels selfishly decadent and delicious to be able to focus all on me, me, me. Ever since I knew I was leaving my last job I've generally been feeling this way. Is this me succumbing to the fact I can't change and have what I truly desired in the first place? Or is this internal happiness?

 

There are several men at my current job who would like to date me...But unfortunately my wall is still high. And I'm just not interested. Then there are the men I pass in the street who try to make small talk...one of them had six (!) kids at age 31 and he had a 15-year-old. Best to start young I guess. I gave him my number but dropped off the face of the planet because I don't need drama...I've got my own problems, sure, but nothing of that sort of magnitude.

 

I do have my days where I feel like I will never love again. These thoughts cross my mind at least once every couple of days, usually before I go to sleep, when I have a chance to reflect on my long day, my extensive past, and seemingly bleak future in regards to romance. I try to sift through my memories and picture what love felt like for me and the excitement...and the joy of knowing I was loved in return and knowing I'm not completely unlovable - I'm just hard to get along with. I close my eyes and try to relive it so I don't forget how to open my heart again. I don't want to completely lose my capacity to love someone. By taking care of myself now, maybe someone else will have the capacity to love me again. Maybe when I'm done touring the beauty in life and have seen it all.

 

I can't help but think to myself: this is my year. I see it all over in synchronicity. My new beginning starts tomorrow on my 28th birthday, my start of my new year, my new life, my new job(s?), my new self-love, and maybe my new love. I don't know when. I don't know where. But I am hopeful it will. I just hope I don't run into any more losers or I might start twitching and scratching at my skin if one talks to me and then I'll start screaming and tearing out my hair in the middle of the street. A purely allergic reaction.

 

Ah well, I'll write about it.

[BC1980]

Sounds good. I'm glad things are mellowing out for you. You'll get there. We're all works in progress.

[LostInTheWild]

Take me to church...

 

My best friend told me she'd come visit me this weekend. I surprised her and drove the hour to pick her up since she's terrified of driving to see me. The door flung open and my best friend who I ate lunch with every day for three years gave me a big hug. This...my best friend. My happiest moment of my weekend. Her. I felt so comfortable. She knows me best.

 

We talked while she finished getting ready for our night on the town: a nice tapas restaurant. My treat. My birthday present to myself this year was to treat her. Not the other way around. Best birthday ever.

 

We grabbed a taxi and off we went after arriving to my house. We sampled many dishes, had many drinks, and walked to the nightlife. Who knows for how much longer we will get these precious moments together before life sweeps us off our feet and carries us away? She was determined to make the night awesome even though I rarely drink anymore. It was time for fun.

 

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies...

 

True to form, we had a blast. Drinks were flowing. It was a warm evening. We sat outside at a large bar under the dark sky watching everyone congregate around us, equally enjoying the evening.

 

We were accosted by a couple of serious stoners from Colorado. The first thing the one guy said was, "Hey! Do you guys smoke weed?!" Ummm...absolutely not. We quickly lost interest in their conversation. We had a few more drinks and got up to leave.

 

I've been lying to myself again. I saw someone from my meet up group I used to be curious about since he was always so quiet. He had blue eyes, gorgeous clear skin, tall, slim, mysterious. He caught my eye then, and he caught my eye on the way out.

 

I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife...

 

"Heeeyyyy!!!! How have you been???" I greeted him like a long lost best friend forever until the end of eternity. He actually spoke. He speaks!!

 

It seems the past will haunt you. Time and time again. He told me he doesn't go to meet ups anymore and asked me if I WAS STILL WITH PANDA! I'm like...um, no. We were never together. Why would people think that? He explained it was because we stopped attending meet ups at the same time. I'm like oh that's wonderful. Absolutely not. He was just fun to dance with.

 

And then I told him it was my birthday. I told him my age when he asked. He said he's 23. I'm such a child molester. Everyone I'm attracted to is younger than me. Whyyyyy???? Anyway I told him he should give me a birthday dance. He told me he'd meet me out at another place since we were leaving. At midnight. And he gave me his number. Then he told me I looked hot. Still got it.

 

Offer me my deathless death...

 

I danced around on the dance floor alone. My friend and I giggled at his text messages as midnight quickly approached. He was on his way. Then he was there. Then we were kissing. And my friend suggested splitting up. So we did. I gave her my house keys and wrote down my address. She strolled off with another guy, who was obviously in love with her. Although she wasn't.

 

We left the bar and began walking, kissing in the streets. He picked me up and carried me the rest of the way and before I knew it, we were in his beautifully appointed apartment, doing the deed and signing the deal.

 

Good god, let me give you my life...

 

As my limbs came to life in the morning, I looked at my aging hands. I had black makeup all over them. I had slept on his comfortable bed, memory foam, and looked over at his youthful face not bearing any years of painful lines like mine. Life experience. How immature is he really?

 

I got up to check my phone to make sure my friend was safe. She met the love of her life apparently and I had met another one night stand. I let her know I was okay. She let me know how happy she was...however she is in a relationship she needs to end because she's unhappy. Thank the lord I haven't these issues. I told her I slept with him and she asked if I liked it. I told her it was great...but, it isn't what I wanted. I guess I was just starved after not being touched since January, in that way at least.

 

I guess I wanted more this time. I know I want more. But more isn't there. It's never an option. It is what it is. I felt good about my decision, shrugged it off and brushed my teeth before climbing back into his bed. He awoke a couple of hours later and draped his large arm over me. I sweetly accepted it and held his hand, noticing how much larger he was. I asked him how tall he is and he offered he's 6'1. Lovely.

 

We laid like that briefly and he got up to grab water. He offered me some and gave me some aspirin. Not like I needed it but took it anyway. We stood around and talked and laughed before I realized my time had expired. It was time to do the one-two step. Dress-purse. Door.

 

I left him with, "Thank you for the hospitality."

 

I strolled down the stairs. He lives remarkably close. I thought I'd walk home but it was raining and I looked like a crack whore. I hailed a cab and took the ride home. My friend was on her way with my keys.

 

I stood outside in my backyard taking cover from the rain. The morning chill was getting to me. I waited. I waited. I waited. I looked into my sad, misty garden. But I was filled with joy. Then guilt. Then more joy. The guilt: why? Just...why? Why is this so easy? Where are my emotions? And then it was gone. The door burst open and there was my best friend who had taken the front entrance. My safety. My very best friend who I missed so dearly.

 

She had happiness written all over. She glowed when she spoke of her new interest. She scowled at the problems with her current love. She was happy, but not. We talked. We went to breakfast. I spent more precious moments with her. Then I drove her home. I won't see her for quite a while after this. But we both agree it was a fun time. I was so happy for her. I don't even think I thought about what it would be like to be happy for myself. I reminded myself those situations don't exist in my world. I'm not cut out for it. Then I smiled and jumped back into the appreciation of her happiness with love at first sight. And I let her vent about her failed romance.

 

Take me to church...

[lgspot]

happy birthday!!!!

[LostInTheWild]

I almost lost everything last night. I could have lost my life.

 

Face down in the soil, with a large man beating me over my head, I cried and begged him to stop. I screamed as loud as I could hoping someone, anyone, would hear me and stop this once and for all. I could hear the sounds of my clothes being torn off my body and feel the blood running down my face into my ears...Wondering if I would ever get to see my family and friends again.

 

But that didn't happen...

 

I went out with my belly dance instructor. I never get to see her so it was the perfect opportunity to grab a few drinks and dance all night. I took a cab out and we had a great time. We parted ways and I decided to walk home since it was beautiful outside, albeit it was dark. It was only a few blocks away.

 

I kicked off my high heels and walked barefoot down the brightly-lit city street. I'm used to this behavior. I'm used to doing these things alone. I've never had a problem, but then again I never walked. I thought I'd try it out this time and was lost in thought before a tall, husky, African American man appeared behind me. He appeared to be drunk and tired, but friendly enough. I always want to trust people. I really do...but god damn it, why do people want to hurt each other? By this point in time I was already crossing the street and entering the park that would be the shortcut home.

 

He opened by saying, "I'll walk with you. You do know the cops are down there checking people for public drunkenness? They have DUI checkpoints everywhere too."

 

"I'll bet they do. It's a holiday weekend," I responded. He kept walking at my pace but I kept a "safe" distance. I am a runner. I knew there was a cop not too far away parked in the street near the festival they're starting up. All I would need was a thirty-second head start. But it dawned on me that men are fast and more agile, and I was walking away from where the cop was. "Just wait, there are cops up there past the bridge checking people on foot," he repeated. That's when I knew I had to get away. I backed away from him and he said, "Come on, let's keep going up to that bridge. I will show you. I know they're there."

 

I paused and looked ahead. The street was empty. The park was very dimly lit. I listened. It was silent. It felt like a thousand years had gone by and my alarm bells went off. DANGER! DANGER! "I don't think so," I responded. I turned on my heel and walked into the middle of the well-lit street while in one swift motion secretly pulling out my cell phone. Thank god it wasn't dead, or I might have been. As I dialed 911, a thought crossed my mind. I hate cops. If I call them to come get me, I will be arrested for public drunkenness. I don't need the drama.

 

I quickly put the phone up to my ear before he saw what I had done and I stood in the middle of the street. "911, what's your emergency?" The operator answered.

 

"Hi, there is a tall, overweight, black male telling me that there are cops checking for public drunkenness. I am walking home through the park. I am intoxicated. I do not want the police. I do not want to be arrested. I just want to go home. Do you know anything about this?" I said loudly. In the background I hear him say, "You called the cops?!" And he turned to walk away. I walked over to the health campus and sat down. "Never mind, he's walking away. I'm safe now and I will call a cab. Thank you," and I hung up. It is a sad day in this culture when I have to refuse police intervention.

 

I opened up uber and got a cab. An eight-minute wait! The longest eight minutes of my life. A cop drove by. He must not have seen me. Then my phone starts ringing and it's the operator making sure I was safe. I told him I was and that I no longer needed assistance and thanked him. Then my cab pulled up. "Man, I am SO HAPPY to see you right now! Thank you!" I yelled. I hopped in and another cop flew by and we were behind him. He was checking my neighborhood.

 

I arrived home and told the cab driver what had happened. He looked freaked out. I was as cool as a cucumber. It's just another day...I went inside and called 911 again to thank them and provide more information on the guy, and to let them know I made it home safely.

 

When I woke up this morning, I recognized that I was lucky. The weight of the situation I put myself in hit me. I got the chance to sleep in my bed, in my safe haven, without one bruise, one cut, and with my dignity in tact. I was alive. Not many women can say that who find themselves in these situations. But I still don't feel fear. I just didn't want him to win when I stared into his eyes.

 

I'll never know what made him turn away because a lot of men don't. I'm happy I get to see my parents again and that they aren't going to be burying their daughter. I'm glad I won't have to look at men suspiciously wondering if they do love me or if they want to hurt me. My trust wasn't taken from me. And I still get time to write.

 

I'm writing about this because I want this to remind me of how close I came to danger.

Edited May 24, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

I'm never really quite sure what to write about anymore these days. I'm up against some serious writer's block here, not that much hasn't been happening — things have definitely been happening but nothing inspiring to record.

 

Over the past few weeks I've enjoyed cooking more and more. I've enjoyed different music. I finally bought flowers and decorated my garden. I've enjoyed experimenting with different paths for running. I haven't been walking as much, but I still do. I feel like I've settled in just nicely. I've finally come into my own and I'm quite comfortable here. I rarely get upset. I'm much more...even in terms of my emotions. I've just finished half a pint of ice cream while watching a movie and I don't really give two craps about what I look like anymore, as long as I look presentable. There's confidence surrounding me I've never had before. I wish I'd had this awareness in my early years. I look around and think that life couldn't be any more perfect than it is now, today, all but if it weren't for my charge. The only blemish that exists in my life right now. Such a shame.

 

So I never really think about my ex anymore. I never internet stalk anyone anymore. But I did have a question I posed to our mutual friend one day out of the blue: "How is he?" And she began, "He's good. His girlfriend threw a picture frame at his head but he's doing all right." I laughed and she stopped. I guess my laughing at his misery is off limits now, or maybe it's unnerving I'm happy his world isn't as great as I originally thought because mine isn't either. She continued, "Hey, he didn't know her before he had a kid with her." I agreed and we moved on from that topic. At least his kid is turning out to be attractive, according to her.

 

The passenger texted me again asking to take me out. I declined as politely as I could. I definitely want to move past this creeper stage I've been stuck in. I quietly bow my head, try not to shine, and look away if anyone of the opposite gender points his feet in my direction. No thank you. I've had enough. And I politely try to convey that. I'll deal with my issues, move on, and hopefully it will be alone because I can't seem to even bring myself to be attracted to anyone much less even try. I have nothing left to give to these people. I only have energy to give to myself. I wouldn't even know what to do to keep someone around. The only guys who stick like glue are the ones who repulse me and those whom I can't get away from fast enough. Imagine that.

 

Oh but I have been thinking. I think about keeping my heart open and my mind geared towards what I want from a man, but that takes too much energy. I fantasize from time to time about what it would be like if I didn't have to always take the trash out and be crushed by a huge trash bin while hoisting it over a curb, or wash dishes, or shovel snow, pick ice off my car because the car door is frozen shut and I'm late as hell for work already, or change a lightbulb without fear of falling down a flight of stairs while clinging to the ceiling for dear life, or nearly blowing myself up trying to light a grill, having to unclog a drain because I'm balding and my hair has no other escape from the bathroom, the roof springs a leak during a huge thundershower right over my bed and the pots fill up so rapidly it would be nice to have an extra set of hands, and suffering several near misses while battling swinging spiders all over the place. There's just some things in life I'll never be good at. Mom and dad should have said something sooner. Note to future potential children: a jack of all trades doesn't exist, you won't be good at everything, and for the things you do suck at, save money to hire someone to do it for you if you find yourself single.

 

I did try a mystery shopper job out for a sub chain restaurant. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time alone. I had to observe marketing and presentation, but the outcome was even better. There my high school friend stood with his fiery red hair, and new fiery thick beard. I meandered over to him and whispered, "I see you've finally let your peach fuzz grow in." He snickered and we just kind of stared at each other for a while before I asked what he was up to. He was off to a house party. I turned to walk away, paused, then looked back at him. He motioned that he was going through a different entrance, so I smirked at him and continued to walk away. My shining moment was standing outside in front of the world, trying to secretly take a not so secret picture of the building.

 

The European was on my mind off and on. He was my most recent heartbreak after all. I reflect on my stifled personality I portrayed. The woman without an opinion. The cool, breezy, chilly type. The person I've stuck with for a year. And the change I've embraced to become whole and warm to people again. I've reconciled my stupid mistakes with him. And I've forgiven myself. And him. Up until recently, I noticed I barely think of him anymore either, only because my favorite song he introduced me to came on in the car, and it didn't trigger any memories. The only thing remains from him, that I'm still thankful for: the gift of learning to live again.

 

I've been reflecting a lot over my past lives. Things I could have done differently, things I wish I knew then that I know now, but most importantly, self-respect and independence. Knowing when to fight. And knowing when the cause is lost. It's so unfair that life teaches us this way. If there was a book of rules and it was given to me, I would have absorbed it like a sponge, but even then, I'd still have to be beaten with the damn thing repeatedly to earn the hard lessons I now have engrained in my mind.

 

Sometimes I think I'd just like to have one more chance at a relationship. I'd like to practice what I've learned. I'd like to do it the right way this time. I think I've figured it out.

 

But even with my job I hate, with problems on the horizon, with my desperate attempts at making my life better, making my life richer and fuller, I look up at the sky while driving to work each morning and I couldn't be more appreciative or more deserving of it all. With each past life, I closed a door...and each time, another one opened. Hello new life. Hello new world.

[LostInTheWild]

My job search continues —heavily. I nearly start panting at the exhaustion from typing like a mad woman. At work, I'm bored enough to do this. It isn't about money anymore. It's about happiness, and let's be honest, the money counts too. I've found I have lost my identity. If anything ever went wrong in my life, my job which used to be my identity —something I excelled at— was always an option to fall back on. And I'd always feel greater for it. Until now.

 

Some interviews here, one there...a phone call here...and waiting. And nothing.

 

In the interim, I find myself being lazy, eating more junk, and still trying to develop a new gym routine to trim down which has been difficult. I did sign up for a new gym that has a pool. So I'm excited about that.

 

On Sunday, a rare day I decided to clean, I dumped old food into the garbage disposal to make a statement, "I am a clean person. I am an adult." Nope. Life loves its twists and turns I'm finding. Nothing can ever be easy. The garbage disposal let out an old heave, firing to life, before dying completely. Great. It's clogged.

 

I called someone for help. Nope. That'll be three hundred bucks and an anal gouging. "Dad will know what to do," I thought. But it was too late to call him. Monday I had appointments. Tuesday I got around to asking. Today I came home to a clean sink, clean dishes, and clean air. I wondered how long I would have him. He's getting old and the conquerer of spiders and all things manly won't be here to rescue me one day. "Dad, thank you so much for this," was all I could muster through text. I collapsed in my chair and forgot I had promised myself it was weight training day. Ugh.

 

So I went to therapy yesterday. It was normal, in the beginning. I threw my job under the bus. I threw my choices under the bus. I asked for direction in my life. I asked what I should do. What I shouldn't do. And then I told her my secret. A secret I've been keeping from myself. "I don't know if this is a problem, well I know it is because it's affecting me, but when people talk to me, frequently I just can't listen. I can't hear what anyone is saying because I zone out. When I recover, I don't feel like myself and I get tired." I don't know where it's coming from, honestly. She seems to think it's a coping mechanism. A way for my mind to compromise on stress levels. Protection.

 

"But I don't feel anything. I don't feel anxiety or anything so I'm not sure what my mind is protecting me from," I explained. She tried to give me some answers. Then she said, "You've given up on relationships, right? You know you won't have one, for now, at least? Maybe you're mind is still trying to protect you from that feeling of hurt that life hasn't turned out the way you had hoped."

 

We wrapped up the session and I closed her door behind me. Sometimes she seems to want to reach for a hug and sometimes she does. However, this time I stood back. And I saw my problem. I don't actually want anyone to know me. I don't want anyone new to get close to me. I can't do it. Why would I want that now when I seem to manage on my own. There's no room for that in my life. I trust no one. And I can't seem to shake that mindset of ho-humming through life, "I'm here today. Tomorrow will be the same. Until I'm old. Until I die. Life will be like this until I can't recognize myself in the mirror. And one day I'll call a friend, tell them I love them, crawl into a bed, and die alone."

 

I put my bubble on in the morning. I take it off before I go to bed. I notice it's getting thicker and more impenetrable. And I don't care.

 

"Studies show that people with less anxiety are more successful in life," my therapist offered. I hope so. I'm not even nervous about my interview tomorrow.

Edited July 2, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

I went out to a concert with my friends last night. I had a fairly good time although some of them seemed complacent, maybe bored even. I got into a conversation with a gay guy who thought his boyfriend was cheating on him and he was there trying to figure out what his boyfriend was up to, essentially he was there just to keep an eye on him. This added to my friends' frustration of wanting to get out of there because I was prolonging the torture.

 

When we did finally leave, I was accosted by someone from my meetup group I'd attended many months ago. She grabbed me and embraced me in a deep, unexpected hug. It was nice.

 

But as always, the blows in life are well-timed for me.

 

Previously, for the past few weeks the burning desire in my belly had been growing. I wanted to have someone, even just for a night. It has been a long time and I couldn't shake the feeling of being an old grandma brushing up on guys in the concert accidentally — would this be the last of the intimacy I get for the year? Will anyone find me sexually appealing again?

 

Back to the well-timed blow: as I automatically returned her hug, I looked up in perfect timing as I pulled away to see, what should I name the 23-year-old from my birthday? The Ice Prince. Icy, cool, mysterious, with blue, far-reaching, piercing eyes. A man with a quiet contempt for everyone around him, almost seemingly of higher intelligence. Casting doubt and stirring insecurity in others. His cool gaze was warmed by the half-smile he gave...almost seemingly hopeful I would engage him in conversation. A flicker of recognition lit my face. I returned the warm smile and pulled away from her hug, "I'm so sorry. My friends want to get out of here. I have to go." She understood and smiled at me, almost lovingly.

 

And that was that. I walked away, bid my friends farewell to cross the street to buy a scrumptious sub. I made my way in and placed my order. I felt my phone vibrate. Thinking it was my friend telling me to get home safe, I pulled it out immediately. To my horror and shock and utter surprise...it was the Ice Prince. His dissatisfaction with the way I had not addressed his superior presence was amusing. So amusing, the cashier had to shake me out of it, "Your sub is ready!!"

 

"Yikes. Kind of cold?" The Ice Prince proposed. I apologized and told him I was in a hurry. It went on like that for a little while but I propositioned him into coming to my house. What's the harm? The young man won't stir feelings within me because there's nothing left for anyone except myself.

 

An hour later, I was outside of my house, flagging him down as he had gone to the wrong address and had knocked on someone's door early in the morning hours. Sigh. We were both drinking earlier, but my buzz was wearing off. He had drank a lot more than I had, which was somewhat apparent, but he could hide his intoxication well. He emerged from the shadows of the sidewalk, and I got to see just how attractive of a specimen he really was. He had put on some necessary weight, and built more muscle. He looked wonderful.

 

He barged into my house and immediately lunged for my pink canister of mace. He looked excited as he held it up. A child in excited contemplation. "Is this mace?! Wow! You've never sprayed it?!" And before I could grab it the peppery scent filled my living room. I coughed and coughed, then laughed at him struggle with the fact he got some on himself. I took it from him and had a go. Now I can scratch something off my list: I've sprayed mace.

 

Through an occasional cough we sat and talked. He draped his large body over my white canvas sofa. He told me I'm a beautiful woman and that he would have gone after me before, when we had met at the meetup, but he thought I was with Panda. Which reminded him to ask me, "You've never slept with him, right?" Which he seemed eerily upset with. "Nope. I never did."

 

A white lie, I've told, because he doesn't need to know that. Why would he? We aren't together and never will be. The truth is for the birds. Only a few know and have since stopped pecking at the truth long ago as they've gotten their fill. The Ice Prince continued to drone on about my beauty and "hotness" only to remind me that although I'm 28, I am not "old." I fed him some chocolate. And he smiled. A pearly white smile meant just for that. It made him all the more attractive to me.

 

Then it became go-time. And how I love games these days. I made it his job to seduce me after the tour of my house. It went well.

 

In between rounds we played around. The thoughtful, childish play I can remember only in the beginning of my last two serious relationships. Play-wrestling, trying to take pictures, pillow talk, and deep, passionate kisses in between I can't remember having. Don't get me wrong, I know those memories exist, but I've let them float away as they're no longer apart of me. I live day by day now, leaving the past where it belongs, but trying to remain hopeful about my future career and my future with or without love.

 

Throughout the night he made his attraction to me known over and over again. I can't remember a time I'd felt so okay with that. It didn't feel creepy. I didn't feel like I was being lied to. And I believed him. "Why is someone like you, 28, hot as hell single in this city?? I find that so hard to believe!" he inquired after I made him rub my head. Why must we ask these questions? And why must we always have to be honest? I'm going to start lying when people ask me this, because I never get the answer right. "I'm single because I don't want anyone to get close to me. I got dumped and it's been two years since I've had a relationship." He seemed befuddled, "You got dumped? Really? I can't imagine why!" And let's turn the theatrics up a notch, "Yeah, my ex told me that he thought it would be for my own good if he left and it had turned abusive. He hit me a couple of times so it was for the best." His hand stopped rubbing and his grip tightened. "I'm so sorry." A tear escaped from my eye. It was dark. And I was grateful for that. Then he continued to rub my head. The night wore on until we couldn't continue.

 

He seemed more comfortable and animated that night. I got a glimpse into who he is but nothing groundbreaking. He told me the longest relationship he'd had was nine months long. He isn't a romantic. And he cheated on her because he didn't love her. It was quite an interesting story. Brutally honest. I have to respect that he admitted his cheating and correlating that with the fact he didn't love her. Intriguing for someone so young to understand.

 

He woke up in the morning with a headache and announced he was going to "sweat it off" as he got dressed. He told me he'd talk to me soon and escaped into the morning light. I went downstairs after I heard the door click to check the lock. He locked it for me.

 

Writing offers me the chance to forget. My memories are like fireflies, not meant to be caged. When it's time I release them from the jar they're kept in so they can light up the sky. It's better to forget what happened. It's better to remember I was once touched.

Edited July 4, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

The soft, wet, warm air surrounds me now, lightly stained with my rich, spicy perfume. The stinging taste of vodka still on my lips. I sit outside on my porch while rain pours around me as I wonder which part of the roof will leak next in this house. It is soothing, though; the sound of rain enveloping me. I just wish it would wash away my problems too.

 

What do you do when you are in two states of inescapable, perpetual unhappiness? What do you do, really, when there is no escape? When there is nowhere to run? Nowhere to hide? What do you do then? What is the right choice? The right answer?

 

I used to know the answers to these questions. It breaks my heart to say so, but I did. Several months ago, I could have told you that the easiest way through struggle is work, food, exercise, and friends. Take that magnifying glass up so close to your face that all you can see is your flaws, and fix them. When you're done fixing those flaws, take in that magnifying glass again, closer, and find another flaw, then fix that too. Keep going, until there is nothing left to fix. Or nothing that you can fix anyway.

 

Keep changing and growing and learning, I've told myself - and I have. I've done it all. Over and over and over again until I could stand to look into the mirror again and sort of love myself and my life. But now I've placed bars around myself, my flaws, and my reflection. And my magnifying glass has fallen from my hands and broken onto the cold, hard floor.

 

I hate my "new" job, as many of you have probably read. I've never delved into the reasons why because I thought this feeling or actually being there would have passed by now, but the sad reality is - it hasn't. I've been applying, interviewing, seeking, speaking, networking...The jobs are there, but they're out of my reach, apparently. All of this would have been fine with me, up until Wednesday last week. I've finally realized how dire my situation is.

 

They fire people. A lot. It's a start-up company. I've seen many come and go already and I've only been there for three months, keeping my head down, silently looking for other options. My coworker and I had each other. We were to be counterparts and we were, up until I realized they've placed him in charge of our work and I wasn't getting the opportunities to learn as he was "so on top of things." Fine - it gave me more time to find an out.

 

The offer letter wasn't written in truth. I am salaried. But that isn't true - I don't get paid sick days; I have to use my vacation. And when that is done, used, and gone, as a single woman, if I do get sick, I'm on my own. I wasn't told this - it was written into policy after I accepted the job.

 

I don't get to invest into my 401K until after six months of being there. Don't ask me why, it seems silly after serving three months without benefits (nothing, not even vacation).

 

After having been a salaried employee with another company, I never had to punch a clock either, but now I do. They want to monitor my every move. And they pay me accordingly - as an hourly employee (but I'm salaried). I do believe they can be sued for these matters of salary, and I will check into it.

 

There is much more to this, however, I must admit I'd kind of gotten used to doing nothing for a long time. And I hated it. Until Wednesday my coworker announced he was leaving to go back to his old company. He had finally had enough, and they offered him a job there.

 

And that was when I became unhappy, to the point of no real solace. I've been trying to regain my happiness ever since. But it's nearly impossible for me, and after my last phone interview the day after I found out he was leaving, I knew I was stuck. And here I am today, still stuck, and I don't know what to do.

 

I can't just quit. And after the gloating, wondrous, "You can have his job! We want YOU!" speech, I have to say, I was less than happy about taking his job. Because I knew how badly I wanted out of there. "Can I think about it?" I asked. "Don't think for too long! You have to begin training next [this] week!" my General Manager replied. And I fled the premises and drove like a mad woman home. To think. To think? To ponder.

 

I had nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. And I was afraid they'd fire me if I told them no. So I did what I could to save myself from the unemployment line, which would start me back at square one. "I'll accept the position," I told my boss. But I felt nauseous. I was sweating. I felt entirely too incapable and too sick. I did not want this at all. Even if it meant $3,000.00 per year more - I've learned that money alone won't make me happy. A fulfilling job I can complain about and not feel like I've done nothing at the end of the day will make me happy. I make $13,000.00 more than I did a few months ago, and I hate it. And it hurts. And I miss my old life. When I knew I'd never be fired for being sick. Where I had unlimited sick days. And where my benefits were second to none. Where I could heavily relate to my position, and where I loved everyone unconditionally because we were family.

 

I was ecstatic for my vacation next week. Ecstatic. I had even asked my boss if I could still take it. Four days off to visit my old life, my old company, my favorite people and old friends, and get my teeth cleaned with my crappy, new benefits during a morning appointment I'd made.

 

"****, do you really need to take that vacation next week?" my boss asked. "Well, yeah, I have so many things to do - I'm going to the dentist and seeing my old friends - why?" I asked. Me and my boss are on good terms - I hate the company and she knows that I'm looking for a new job but...she's a manager first, I understand. "We might need you to come in all next week. I haven't told the GM you're taking off next week. And I'm sorry, but we have to change your hours. You have to come in at 7 instead of 7:30 - just for now, until we get everything up and running," she informed me.

 

I'm afraid that when I go to my old company - I will cry and plead for them to take me back. This has never happened before. I did have set hours, but I was never told I had to do anything. They ALWAYS asked me. They never informed me.

 

Add this onto the exhaustion: I couldn't really sleep all weekend. After the Ice Prince left...all I could think about was him. Why? Well, I don't know. I think it was the look he gave me that night. That cool, chilly, warm look that asked me how I was deep down without a word being spoken. I mean, what business could I have with a 23-year-old? Really?

 

Him and me. Me and him. This and that. That and this. The night replayed over and over in my mind and I couldn't stop thinking about him and the way he made me feel. It isn't often I feel this obsessive and interested in someone so...even on July 4th I couldn't even enjoy telling my parents I'd been promoted. Half because I hated the job, I didn't even want the company's money. Half because I couldn't stop thinking about the Ice Prince and how I had to see him again concocting a plan in my mind. And the other half of myself not only had cleaned my house, but had cleaned my subconscious and added happy-go-lucky-thoughts.

 

But I'd stop myself. I stopped myself wholeheartedly, only because I knew where the road would lead yet again. But maybe I needed an escape? Maybe I needed something new to focus on? Maybe I could get it if I believed it enough just like I'd believed I could find that dream job that came after this hell hole. I mean, there must've been a reason I bumped into this young man again and again, right? Or maybe I should hide at home. Maybe I'll take my own advice next time.

 

I sped the way home today, zoning out and zoning in, but mostly zoning out, attempting to run and hide. I thought about how I haven't eaten in two days, depression creeping back in - but hey! at least the scale had nice intentions. And for the life of me, I couldn't even focus on any one thing. What now? What do I do now? A million pieces of myself scattered onto the highway and yet were held in place by my skin, my brain imagined. I saw myself running, screaming underwater, screaming in the car, sitting in a field alone to collect my thoughts. And I cried on my way home. This is not the life I imagined. It never was, and it still hasn't been. It never was - yet my ex gets to live it. Where is my lover? Where is my true friend? Seriously, if one more person tells me to hang on and stop expecting things and that **** just happens - I'm going to blow myself up and maybe take the god damn building I work in with me. Okay, maybe I'm not that far gone yet, but I'm so close I can see myself not living again. I can picture myself dying, still wondering about the future no matter what age I decided to commit suicide at. What made me even sadder was my spider who built a nest outside didn't even come out to attack me when I blew on his web when I got home (he usually does, which is why I've never exposed him). I won't die, don't worry, I just have some thoughts flowing through my head and I can't seem to shake it and death will be saved for a special occasion when I'm least expecting it. That is why I write. Thirty years from now I'll probably still be crying about the same things on LoveShack at this point, albeit different - did he really think he could have me with his replacement hip? Or after having three heart attacks? Or after I saw the nurse changing his diaper? Why is he even dating online? Ah, I guess we never give up. Just like I never do even when I say I do.

 

So...with my still-youth in tow...

 

I made an attempt to reach the youth. Maybe the Ice Prince would like to make me feel great in all aspects, not just the given ones. Get to know me? Get to spend time with me? All knowing where it ends? This morning I woke up with a mission. Uh-huh, you got it...aggressive granny tries to woo the lion into not eating her. Okay - aggressive granny tries to tell the cop she didn't see the traffic stop and bats her eyelashes at the cop - she still gets a ticket! There, that scenario is best. Uh...I'm not sure. This still works on the cops and my judges seem to like me - I'm not sure. ANYWHO....yeah, I asked if the Ice Prince would like to grab a drink with me Wednesday night. And I got a surprisingly warm response. He greeted me in the language I greeted him - and he said he couldn't tomorrow or Wednesday. And asked me what was up in the unforeseen language response.

 

I knew then that this was all wrong - I shouldn't keep asking. I shouldn't push further - but life and my ability to release the fireflies into the sky kept me grounded and remembering what it was like to remember what it felt like to NOT BE REJECTED. WHAT IT FELT LIKE TO BE HELD. WHAT IT FELT LIKE TO HAVE SOMEONE SAY YES FOR ONCE. The truth is even though it's true - I can't remember when that was. I can't remember when I felt like a human being asking someone to do something. Even my friends say no. I'm getting too tired to exercise. I'm getting too tired to eat. And I'm getting too tired to ask anyone to hang out with me. It's a freaking job to do all these things. I don't think anyone who hasn't been in my position would ever think otherwise.

 

But then, I got a nice, warm response: "Sounds good. I'll let you know!" In response to my, " let me know later" text. Of course - how could I expect anything less.

 

How could I expect anything less from him, or my friends? Or the friends I thought I had made? What's so great about me that they'd want to hang out with me? Nothing, I guess, because I ask myself this question just about every day. And I'm typically okay with these answers, but I know the truth - they have someone else occupying their time. They have someone else's lives they're entwined with. They're busy building memories with the person whom they think they'll be with forever - or at least a long while.

 

And then there's me - not giving a ****. The cool, happy girl. The one that doesn't request or require much. The one always smiling.

 

And I just can't be the person that all my friends think I've pretended to be. And I just can't be the person all my friends thought I was. At the end of the day I'm the loser. I'm the one who lost. I'm the one who they ignore and can't remember. I'm the one they've forgotten about. I mean, who will remember all of this? Or who would want to if I told someone? I'm just a big ball of drama that nobody wants to associate themselves with.

 

I texted one friend and she never even responded to me, knowing all the while I could use her help. I made sure to ask if she was okay just for good measure. My measure never seems to be enough though.

 

I don't know when that will change.

 

I don't know when a friend stops being a friend.

 

I don't know what happens when I stop forgiving people for ignoring me.

 

And I don't know for how long I can stay. And I don't know when the appropriate time is to leave.

 

One thing I do know: nobody will share my happiness if they can't share my sorrow.

[15Love]

That question about how long it's ok to let people ignore you. Please post if you ever figure it out. I hate that part of life and it's such a surprisingly large part.

 

I love your writing. I've only read your last page but now I'm gonna go start with page one.

 

You should know...your writing has made my day better if just for something new to look forward to. Thank you for writing.

[RileyPayne]

I've read through half thus far and I have to say you're amazing, your strength and resilience may not be clear to yourself at some points but just exudes from your writing. I can't begin to understand the situation you are going through but I can say that I'm going through a BU with my first love and it is excruciating. I can't stand to see her seeing other boys, as I know she is right now, any advice from someone like yourself would be appreciated. Keep on writing, I'll keep on reading.

[LostInTheWild]

15 and Riley, thank you for the kind words.

 

15, (about the ignoring) I'm guessing now that everyone's lives carry them away from me and back again somehow, it's just going to have to be okay if I want them in my life. I guess that's the sacrifice you have to make for people you perceive to be true friends. My friends are true, just busy with their own lives; the men are not and never have been. That makes it difficult to trust.

 

Riley, the first love...they are the hardest to get over. My ex was indeed my first love and these 20-something pages detail my struggle to get over him. He was and has been unrivaled by any other. I loved him for a solid 10 years before I had to give up and find out who I was again. I guess the only thing you can do is, and I'm sorry this is cliche - live for yourself. It's been a rude awakening for me and the reality of being single for many more years or even possibly a lifetime is daunting. I signed up at the gym and had to fill out a form for emergency contacts and thought, "When my mom and dad die, who the hell will I write in this spot? Nobody? Call my job?" I don't know. While I can say quite confidently that the pain goes away, it goes away faster if you preoccupy yourself with other things. Realize this is all part of the journey and embrace it. If you fight it, you'll lose.

 

Regardless, thank you both for responding here. I'm sure you'll find my life quite interesting and some things might be too much, but one day I want to read this again and hopefully laugh at myself. I apologize for that last post - it was too much, and I had had too much, and towards the end the story disintegrated and fell apart because I was crying and drunk.

 

So, on to the next story...

[LostInTheWild]

I had a funny happening this week. I try to keep my crushes out of these stories because, well, to be honest I don't think about them much these days; I just admire the beauty, wish I stood a chance, and kind of move on. Really, being the train wreck that I am, who would want me now anyway? So I keep my head buried in the sand, only once in a while taking a peek at who is standing next to me, and wondering what their intentions are. Usually they're never good. And usually telling stories of crushes make for boring, ridiculous, school-girl fantasy stories. I'm way past that now, so I try to make this sound as "adult" as possible, but what the heck? Let me tell you one story that will certainly sound like a movie. And I'll be cringing the entire time I write this.

 

I signed up for a new gym, one closer to home, for a 3-month membership. I wanted to use the pool, but I've only swam once. And I have gone maybe 4 times since I signed up a few weeks ago because I've been on my proverbial death bed trying to get things in order, avoiding everyone.

 

The day I saw him, I was taking the tour of the huge, castle-like building and he was instructing a class. He was happy, vivacious, tall, tan, and had a great smile. I on the other hand, hadn't bothered to shower, threw on a t-shirt and some too-small shorts, and patted some makeup on. To my horror, that day I looked like a bum-sausage (bum=not bothering to care for appearance, sausage=not caring about the small, developing muffin-top giving my body a square, sausage-like appearance which is why I bothered going to the gym in the first place).

 

He didn't catch my eye that day, as I wasn't really looking. It's easy to get used to that, you know? Just standing in the shadows, noticing but not really noticing and kind of moving along like I'm drifting through life. A breezy, cool attitude it took years to master, but perhaps it is at my own detriment. I'm no longer happy and bouncy, more just like in acceptance that this is what everything is supposed to be like. And I want to slap myself sometimes because it makes me seem like I'm intimidating and/or married/taken. My guard is that high. Sometimes I even mentally find myself thinking, "Oh no, he's coming over here!" And I will him to stay away, burning a beam of fire directly at him and oh, no problem, he's just picking up his dog. Great. Threat averted.

 

Back to the story: so I got a free pass that day and jumped in the water. It surrounded me like a womb, and it healed. I didn't feel like I was fighting to stay alive anymore, just enjoying the weightlessness of it all. I was so weighed down before then, and I finally found something to make me feel light again. I swam for an hour and left.

 

The next day, I went back with the intent to sign up. So I did. I stood at the counter and a young man helped me into my membership. But then, out of the corner of my eye, a tall man approached the desk. I looked up and it was him. "Ah, craaaappp..." I thought. Not another gym crush! That is the last thing I needed. So I kept my head buried in my paperwork. I glanced up to see the man in the other guy's personal space, whispering something to him, his back turned to me. I looked at his hand as he rested it on the counter...married, of course. But I can't be certain of that - it was only a quick glimpse and his hand was cuffed - not enough time to count the fingers! Ahhh! He's turning around...Look down, look down!!! Fill out your damn paperwork! And then I was done.

 

The guy who was helping me told me I had to take a picture and dragged me back into a tiny white room. I smiled a huge smile - I wanted it to be a "decent" picture and then I was set free, to explore the area on my own. The building is huge and it's easy to get lost. I found my way up several flights of stairs and through the corridors, back up to the gym where I worked out as hard as I could.

 

As I was heading towards the lobby to prepare to leave, I heard a sweet voice behind me ask, "Did you go swimming?" I turned to look at a young woman who seemed perplexed as to why I was dripping wet. "Yeah, I'm swimming in my own sweat!" I laughed at her and we made some small talk before I decided to leave. She asked me how old I was, which thinking back seems kind of odd, but I guess people just get curious.

 

I walked into the well-lit lobby, with sky lights pouring in sunlight from all angles. I swear, it felt like I was in heaven. Everything glowed. And I was pretty happy. That was when it happened - I looked up to see someone sitting at the desk. As I approached, I realized the sun was shining on him. He glowed. His skin glowed. And wait...who is he looking at like that? Hmm...I wanted to turn and look behind me, but there he sat...and it became apparent he was looking at me. His piercing stare was on me. And he had a stupid half-smile going on like someone had clocked him upside the head with a shoe. But oh, I was so glad to see his teeth...white, iridescent, and fit him perfectly. He was staring at me like I have never been stared at before by someone I actually wanted to have stare at me. Whew. Just for good measure, I dropped my gaze to the floor to make sure he'd break eye contact. My eyes darted back to find him and there he was, still looking at me like that.

 

This only took a few seconds as I was exiting, but I knew he wasn't going to say anything. So I did. "Have a nice night!!" And he responded, "You too." And I skipped out of the building. My head was spinning. I texted my friends to tell them about this mysterious person. One thing I've learned: if someone is looking at you like this, they have an interest. If they're married, they're dick bags.

 

I made it my mission to go back a few times. He was there every time, but I had to play it cool. A quick smile here. A darting glance there, but mostly nothing really. I'm not friendly, I guess. Although one day I went in, and there was a cute blond chatting him up, really happily, and he was standing. He saw me come in when she was mid-sentence and he interrupted to ask me how I was. "Good, thank you." And I kept trucking. But this one time, I glanced at his name tag. I'll call him Richard Simmons, mainly for the way he bounced about the gym when I first saw him (and because I'm not 100% sure he's straight).

 

Well, okay, I slacked off for a while. My life was in turmoil. I hadn't gone to the gym in about a week. Rich was long forgotten. But I still missed the pool and every chance to swim that I could have taken, but I went on about my business. At work, still furiously looking for and applying for jobs, I checked my phone. One missed call. Hmmm....from a number I didn't know. I waited a while as I was hoping someone would leave a message. I was hoping it was an out. An opportunity to leave this place. An opportunity I know I would be guaranteed after living this hell.

 

A few minutes later, I googled the number thinking it would be for a company I applied to. Nope. It was the gym. What the heck? Is this one of those "please come back, aren't you enjoying your experience" calls? Or one of the "how are you loving this, do you want to try one of our xyz services" calls? I've gotten those calls before from my other gym, so I'm not terribly surprised. I went back to looking for jobs and then I had an overwhelming urge to call, so I stepped out of my office to do so. And I'm kind of wishing I never did.

 

The line rang and rang and then, "Hello, this is Rich at blah blah blah, how may I help you?" And I smiled. I get to talk to him. Interesting. "Yes, someone called me from this number, so I was wondering if there is something wrong or?" I asked. And he asked, "Well, what's your name? I'm not sure why you were called." I gave him my name. "Hold on one moment," he said and I was put on hold. I held and I held. "I checked with the director and she's not sure why you were called. This is the blah blah blah office, so..." his voice trailed off. "Well, that's really weird because this number came up in my missed calls, but thank you anyway! Bye!" And I hung up.

 

I never gave it a thought. I did debate going to the gym, but decided against it, until today. He wasn't there. But isn't this weird? My thoughts immediately pegged him as the suspect, but then again mistakes do happen. Or maybe someone else did it. Maybe there was a legitimate reason for the phone call, but no message was left. This happened on Wednesday, so I can't say that there really was a need for them to call, because they never called back.

[LostInTheWild]

It feels like I've been posting a lot. Probably because I have spent the month being a loner in most aspects. I suppose I get my human contact from being at work, but outside of that? I'm just lost in thought. And when I think, I have to write it down.

 

Earlier this year I would have told you 2015 is THE year for me. This is IT. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Twenty-fifteen. Two-zero-one-five. Two thousand fifteen. Yup. I will change my life. Everything will click. It will all fall into place.

 

Halfway through...ouch. It's just like any other stinkin' year. Only this time I have a new job in a new area. I live somewhere new. I've really committed myself to the change of scenery and excelling at work. In the process, however, I've lost a lot of friends. They don't live near me. And making new ones is such a daunting task. Ugh. This sucks. It would be nice to have at least one need met, some companionship.

 

Anyway, the other day I was driving home from work and noticed an extremely long, shiny line on my windshield: a crack. My window, on the driver's side, squeaks when I roll it down...loudly. I'm almost too embarrassed to to roll it down in a drive through. It's seriously like, "Eeeeeeeeawewwwwwooooohhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeek." It adds character to my wheels I guess. Haha. I keep thinking if I spray some WD-40 in the crack maybe it'll stop. I can't pop the panel off. I know I'll break it and regret it. It's time for a new car, but I don't want the payment. I'll just deal with it. And spray it to death with lube and hope it works.

 

I went to the dentist today to have my teeth cleaned. My insurance is awful. I'm so disappointed in it. Half of the office gathered round to witness the atrocity that was my insurance, "Ooohh, ahhh, oh, no." I got to take a few hours off work to go, because they screwed me out of my vacation, and I told them I had to go. So just to be a big brat, I went shoe shopping when I was done, but I didn't see any running shoes I liked. I've never had the feeling of not wanting to return before. I've had the feeling of not wanting to go in, but my drive to never return was strong. But I need to eat. So I went back, grudgingly. The bright spot of it was, though, my dentist...man he's hot. Black hair and blue eyes. And married. But it was awesome getting to look over my nose and wide mouth at his spectacles as he poked around my mouth checking out my teeth. Haha. "Remember, floss and fluoride. You'll be okay!" Why can't I just floss and fluoride my life, making it okay? That would be too easy!

 

I'm training a girl to take my job. My old, easy, crappy job. And although it's easy, I'm trying to give her as much information as I can on how everything ties together...and she looks at me like I'm a moron! I tell her, "I know, I know...but I have to tell you this. Some people don't get it right away." And cue the rolling of the eyes and the imaginary scene where I punch her in the back of the head. Otherwise, she's a cool broad, but I hate when I try to teach and its rebuffed with sarcasm or flippancy.

 

Me and the supervisor who works in my department get along very well. We tease each other constantly. And bash each other barring no shame. If anyone stands outside our office they can surely hear the most vile words spoken to another human being. My manager approves and joins in. The department received my seal of approval for coolness as I can joke the same way I did back at my last job. Except, there is this new supervisor. And on his second day, my manager uncomfortably informed us that he's a square. No cursing. There went all the fun. But..time has passed and we've grown even more comfortable with each other. Cursing and joking are ways we all deal with our very stressful roles.

 

He had apparently complained about someone else cursing in another department on his first day, and so we received the word. Then we did it again. And again. And again. And it snowballed. We were having a blast! But then he decided he'd had enough and he went to the cheese to complain and then he went to our manager to complain. Keep in mind, the VP drops f-bombs all the time. This guy landed in potty mouth central, and none of the cursing has been directed at him in anyway. So my boss came out, her face long and disappointed, and she told us to behave. So we will because the guy is threatening to quit (LOL). But this week he's on vacation! So it's party time. I just can't believe someone would be so uptight about that. I mean I get it...but why start off that way with people you're trying to bond with? I mean honestly, the worst things we have said were, "I'm going to run you over in the beep parking lot." When he's not in there it gets worse, but the example is something that has been said in front of him. Strike two. I've been told twice about cursing. Wahh. In a manufacturing environment, I've never met an angel.

 

So, yesterday I went to the gym. I caught up with our mutual friend and she's doing well. I stood outside of the castle-like building laughing and updating her on my life. Her kids are growing so fast. Time is flying by us all. And it's kind of depressing. One day I'll call her up complaining that my wheelchair was delivered and some kids stole it and wheeled themselves up the block. At this rate, anyway. It's not too far off. At least in my mind. I feel like I'm 50 years old, to be honest, given the gift of being young again and not knowing what to do with it. What's the term for it? "Old soul." Every year that goes by I age ten years more mentally. If I stand in a crowd of twenty-something's I feel like I have no business being there. It's so strange. I look forward to appointments because it's the only time I receive attention.

 

And as I wrapped up the call with my friend I walked into the gym. No sign of Rich. I swiped my card and turned around. There he was. Holding the door for me so I, and a few others, could get through. There was my chance. The moment I'd been waiting a few days for: dun, dun, DUN!!! One, two, three, four! Yup, that ring is right where it should be. And I think he's gay. The chapter of Richard Simmons has closed. I texted a friend to tell her that update and I chuckled. I had a funny, floating feeling of nirvana...being neither here nor there and yet right where I ought to be. Right where I always wind up. Right where the universe knows me best, at least in this regard.

 

Now I'm in a bit of a bind thinking over these experiences and the ones of a not-too-distant past. I don't look around often to see what's out there. It's not too often I see someone and have to beat thoughts of being with them off with a stick, not that I ever do really, but it would be nice to think that way, and allow myself to feel something for once. All too often I find I'm suppressing human emotion just to get through a day. I unleash everything in my mind when I drive. I still awake with hopefulness, but on weekends, I'd rather stay in bed. This beautiful summer is passing me by, so quickly, and I don't even have the strength anymore to wave my fist in the air all bloody and bruised and say, "**** you world! *I* make the rules!!!" Then get up and change something.

 

Am I waiting for someone to do that for me? I have to check myself now and again to make damn sure I'm not waiting. It's a yes and no answer really. No, I do live my day-to-day life just how I want to. But yes, I want someone to see the world and travel with me. That is one thing I just don't want to give up on. Why? Because after I get back, I'll forget. And I'll be unhappy that all I have pictures of is a rock and a couple of buildings and I'd show them to people who could care less. What do I want? I want to go on an adventure, have one day to lay in bed worshipping my partners body in sinful ways, the next day spent exploring, eating good food, laughing and taking pictures of each other AND the damn rock and two buildings, the next spent reaching into the ocean, riding a train, or backpacking...and laughing or hell, even fighting I'd accept at this point (I really wish I had someone to fight with, now that I think about it). Upon returning, recover from jet lag and talk about how we are going to do it again , soon, and spend the rest of our vacation recovering together, looking at the memories we made, and knowing all that isn't lost on myself. My friends can't go. I'm at that age...and I live in that area...but I'm seriously considering just quitting my job, and taking a few months to hike and camp or backpack somewhere, since that is the reality.

 

But what I was originally getting into saying, before I so rudely sidetracked myself with complaining, is that when I do look these days, these men are married. And that's bothering the hell out of me. I've considered online dating again, like seriously this time. Like this will be my part-time job kind of serious. But I'm certain that I'll get bored. I'm certain that if I re-read this thread back to when I actually tried to meet someone, I'll be afraid. It tore me up last time to the point where living a life I'm really not excited about, but it's bearable, is more appealing than wondering, "Does he like me? Should I wear this? Should I buy this? Should I bring my wallet? When will he call? Will he text? Should I have said that? Does this feel right? Is he married? Does he just want sex? Am I not pretty enough? Am I not enough? Why is his profile still up? When should I ask him to take it down? Should I even ask? Why doesn't anyone want me?" Yeeeeaaahhh...I can't do that again. I fair far better with these flakes I've dealt with because I always know what to expect, so much so, I can feel it in my marrow long before the text is even answered.

 

And I'm not done. ETA: I'm waiting for the guy who will surprise the hell out of me. The one who I can't write a predictive blow-by-blow on, like so many I've written about here. I want someone to prove me wrong and challenge my warped belief system. Because I want the chance to address my uncanny ability to talk myself out of anything that might be good for me. That's what I'm truly waiting for (and a nice vacation).

Edited July 15, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

The breakup might not even rival the day at work today.

 

I hate it. I'm starting to hate them. I'm allowed to listen to my music by way of earbuds; I'll keep them in.

 

I'll hope and pray the next interview goes well, should I get one. I may be stuck now, and it's a tough fear to face. I'm a workaholic and an introvert, so I thrive off of my favorite moments of my job. Here, there are none. I can't find one reason to find one. I've even asked my old manager if they'd take me back. I know they won't, but the question remains.

 

I've tried to make the best of it. But today I found out just how much my boss doesn't even like me—all because she can't even communicate what she wants. Seriously. I've never worked in such an uncommunicative platform before and it sucks. Seriously my boss asked me today why I wasn't doing something she took control over...and I told her it was because she never said anything. I sat through a meeting I'm supposed to lead today. I pressed my hands down to the table and held them there; I was shaking. I am so very angry at her.

 

I will put in my earbuds and forget that I have problems. And she will get the best work she's gotten yet. And I promise she will regret ever having been a bitch to me today.

 

What motivates me? I am motivated by greed. I am motivated by the need to interact. I am motivated by the need to feel accepted (I hate when people try to make me look stupid). Most of all, and she will regret this most (as she will find out), I am motivated by hate. And I hate my job. When I hate something, I excel...when I want to. My job is something I have power over. I can change it.

 

I've decided I will own this. And once they need me so badly and I have another offer on table, I'll cut the cord immediately so they bleed. I will not offer two weeks. So, go ahead and treat me like ****, boss. This is one thing I'll control...and I'll drain you dry...then laugh at you. If you don't fire me first.

[LostInTheWild]

Of me...

 

I HATE MY JOB. I hate them all. I keep hoping that soon, something has to come along and rescue me from this hell. I have an interview on Tuesday and I'll be practicing for it with my friend. I can't believe what a horrible mistake I've made. It haunts me every morning to think that if I had just been more patient I would be with my old company now. I would know what I was doing. I would have structure. I'd have great benefits. Maybe not all the money in the world, but the training would be top-notch and above par.

 

I miss my old life. I never thought I'd say it, but I do. I miss sitting on those train tracks with my friend during the summers and talking shop with her. I miss knowing what I was doing every day and being intelligent enough to have a conversation about it. I miss being angry that my life was stalling,; not because I was so terribly unhappy, but because it hurt that they didn't recognize my potential. I miss my coworkers. I miss the stupid gossip. I miss the safety and preservation of my job. I would have never been fired. EVER. And I miss working hard - staying late, getting up early, working Saturdays. I had no problem throwing my life under a bus for them. I LOVED them. Dearly. I LOVED that company. I still do.

 

I'm hesitant to try and return. I know they'll gladly have me. I'd kill myself for them and they knew it then. If this interview doesn't go through I will head into more important territory and email the VP of Finance. He had my back and I cried in his arms the day I quit. I feel like such a **** for not contacting him since. Maybe I will tomorrow. Desperation swells in my belly again, but for a different purpose completely unrelated to love. This is a new feeling.

 

Yesterday my blood boiled...literally. It boiled. I could feel my heart in my chest throbbing like you'd feel a scared animal's heart throbbing in your hands. It nearly lept out of my throat. I knew my boss was trying to push me here and there, but it's gone too far now. I've never been or felt so disrespected in my life. Not since my dad had done it. As a child, this feeling was rampant and I couldn't escape him. I feel that same way now. It's unbearable when people have your entire life dangling over your head and with a simple, swift action, it could end.

 

So I went to my General Manager (GM). I spoke with her about this abuse and MUCH to my absolute, petrifying horror...she cosigned everything my manager was doing. I remember bits and pieces, "well, I understand...she must be frustrated...she is trying to push you...it's okay for her to act like this...you need to be better...it's a sink or swim environment...you have to push through this...you have to work harder...you can't be so timid..." And by that point I had tuned her out. She was missing the point of it all. And leaving me an out to quit at the same time without even saying so. I half-expected her to fire me. Maybe this will give her a face to remember for when I do quit - maybe she will see my manager isn't manager-material at all. Because she isn't. Making people feel stupid, yelling at them...the list goes on...And I won't bore you with the details. It's so bad the supervisor is actually being nice to me - he never is. He feels my pain. He's afraid to lose his job, too. They don't breed an environment of security.

 

The only way I sleep these days is ridiculous and I hope it's temporary - alcohol. I've taken to vodka. Surely it doesn't make everything right, but it's the only thing that makes me not commit a terrible act. I literally want to punch everyone in their ****ing faces at work while I mourn my last job. I feel really ****ing ripped off. And hurt.

 

The train tracks... where my friend would always make me feel better, haunts me tonight. I'm in tears at the mess my life has become. I miss those train tracks. It was beautiful to see them change with the seasons; to know I had someone with me to see them change. To have someone with me at all. She was that person. I live so far away from her now and I miss her. I just want her to hug me and tell me everything will be okay.

 

We are going to practice my interview. I've asked a great deal of my friend - "Please don't let me fail." As if it were in her power. And try as she might - I know she will do everything in her power to save me from the hell that awaits me if nothing changes.

 

Things are bad right now. I'm wondering if getting fired will be the ultimate goal here; one that will make me happy. I could be careless again for a while. I could live like a free woman again. But I'd lose all my skills. But really, where have they taken me? Straight to hell?

 

And the significance of not having a live person to vent to at the end of the day, not having someone to hold me and tell me it'll be all right, to not have that presence...when I'm driving home, knowing someone is there to listen and to help me; give me advice and peel the clothing off my skin and take me into all hours of the night like tomorrow doesn't matter. Like it's okay to be human. Like it's okay to relieve stress. A massage? An argument at least? No takers? It's awful. Earlier this week I nearly decided to break a table because my bra was too tight and I couldn't get to my alcohol fast enough. I can't breathe without someone breathing the same air. I mean, I can't even take vacation without reporting it to upper management because my boss keeps dicking me around. I NEED A BREAK. I NEED TO MISS WORKING. I've sacrificed enough. It's how I operate! Give me a BREAK! OR I'll snap! And they will "try" to.

 

I imagine once in a while that I have a man around. I have a horrible day at work and I look up at him as I sit on my porch. It's a twisted, "bent" look. And he instantly knows and tries to make me happy - there's no whining, no contemplation, no complaining. He just knows. He wraps his hand around my weak head and holds me...pulling me close to his groin and it makes me forget how awful the world is - and how lucky I am to have one person who is true. My eyes turn from "Terminator" to "Puppy" in seconds, but it's not real. I have nobody to talk through these frustrations and nobody wants to make me feel better albeit physically or emotionally.

 

It's been rough...And I'm so angry. I will lose my job. Brace for it. I'm sure life will only go downhill. And I pray I get this job. Otherwise, I'm not going to make it. I won't.

Edited July 24, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[15Love]

Hello LITW!

 

It's me again. I've finally read through this whole thread...it's been my cherry on top at the end of my days. Sometimes, I would be so tired and I'd only be able to read one post...but it was my reward for making it through another day.

 

I'm sorry you're having a rough time right now...but I will say, having just read you last couple of years in a consolidated way I can see VERY clearly how temporary this rough patch will be. The sun will shine again soon. Hang in there. We're rooting for you!

 

Have you ever given thought to starting your own blog? Or transfer all these posts to print and shop it for a book deal. I could very easily see your story as a movie or a tv series, a la SITC. I think you should seriously consider making writing your thing.

 

Thanks for sharing your life...you've really saved me these last couple of weeks.

 

I'll be reading

 

Take care

[LostInTheWild]

I spent this weekend gaining weight. My days off are a blur, except for my phone dying and buying a bicycle.

 

I hadn't been on a bike in years. The last I remember is a spur of the moment agreement with my ex that that was what we were going to do on our day off. So we went to his mom's house and grabbed her bikes. We rode around our neighborhood weaving in and out of streets and alleys, down hills and back home. I don't remember liking it. I don't remember liking him. I only remember the wind blowing against my skin, wet with sweat, and being cooled.

 

I managed to hoist the bike up into my car. Passers by watching me meaningfully dumping the bike and hopping into my car screaming, "HA!" As if I need a man for that! And slamming the door closed. I drove home in anticipation. Would I love riding? Or did I make another financial mistake?

 

I got the bike out of my car and put the front tire on. I took a deep breath and lifted a leg over the seat. A satisfying wave of accomplishment washed over me. Off I went. Like riding a bike. Nothing to it. I hadn't forgotten how. Thanks dad.

 

I went on my journey looking out of the ordinary. Not a true cyclist. An imposter. And it seems I lack etiquette and manners too. I creep up behind people and when they turn that's when I excuse myself and pass. Maybe I'm too timid to call out, "Move you rude *******!" People are dumb and don't pay attention.

 

Either way, I rode under the trees, sunlight passing through, with my earbuds in. Water nearby, no people around, through the park. Taking it all in. This beats the beach. I loved it. And I was happy.

 

Then my phone died. The next day I spent hours trying to get a new one or get it fixed. They replaced it. I was overjoyed. And the guy helping me was remarkable. I loved his personality. But nothing ever came of it even though we bantered back and forth all the while. Nothing ever comes of it. That's where I give up.

 

That elation is coming back; the misery is passing in a much needed sense. I'm just bracing for the next fall, the next low. The low I will have to face again. Alone. I hate it.

 

I had my interview today. With three people. I woke up early from a restless sleep feeling pains in my chest. I put on my professional best, complete with a French twist, suit jacket and high heels. It's my third interview with this company and I've just about had all I can take. But when I got there—they were awesome! A place I can see building a career! Finally! They were all so wonderful to me and the most HONEST group I've ever had the pleasure of interviewing with.

 

The lady was very excited to have me. Very. She was much older but we were like two peas in a pod. She took me on a tour and introduced me to EVERYONE. It was almost mortifying in the most glorious sense. "This is where you'll sit, " she pointed to a sad desk piled in junk. "He will clean that off, won't you?" She shook a finger at her coworker. In this role, you'll...you will be doing...do you like this?...what do you think of this?...They placed me in the role, verbally, very quickly.

 

Out in the shop, we strolled out to a bright, clean facility. Machines hummed. Parts lie everywhere. It felt like home. Then she started to go by all the coworkers and introduce me again. None of them were exceptionally remarkable as I was nervous...

 

And here's where it gets tricky...there is one I remember.

 

I went to therapy today and discussed this. Why do I keep developing crushes on people? I hate that. I prefer to be asexual if I am forced to. There is no room for this nonsense in my life. They're just roadblocks to getting to the end. She thinks it's great...I'm feeling something towards people again. I disagree.

 

"This is such and such, the supervisor of where and where!" The lady announced as we barged into his office. He was facing his computer, presumably working. He spun around in his chair and flashed a dazzling smile. He took command and showed respect by standing up to greet us. As per standard procedure, I immediately and nonchalantly glanced over his finger. No ring. Means nothing...but it's not there. Early to mid-thirties. Trim and fit. He had the hair color of a Ken doll...light, ashy brown, faint hints of red. He had tan skin. And I think his eyes were green. He nearly towered over both of us, although my high heels prevented a true gauge in height. My immediate curiosity in him was well-hidden behind my professionalism. I was here to get hired, not to dally around with guys. His outstretched hand met my downward, sheepish gaze and I smiled up at him, introducing myself. The Supervisor and the lady started yammering away, buying me time to look him over. I had to. I had to look. Why is this trigger even in my mind? If I could stomp it out I would. If there was a pill I could take to permanently damage my brain so I could stop liking men from afar...I'd buy ten and chug them with vodka...call it a day. But I did...I looked him over from head to toe. It only made me more nervous. And then when I was done they finished and our eyes met again.

 

I sent my thank you emails out. Let's see if this girl has any life left in her.

Edited July 29, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

I woke up early for work anticipating the new day. The alarm clock rang. I dreaded leaving for my awful job.

 

I slowly peeled the sleepiness off of myself as I got out of bed. I went into the kitchen to make coffee. Then I went to brush my teeth and my messy hair. I looked in the mirror at my glowing skin, my happiness; the hard work was paying off. I smiled back at myself and nearly forgot the dreaded day ahead.

 

I crept back into the bedroom to lay back down. There he was, still snoozing, not snoring, like an angel. I hated to wake him up. But with my fresh breath in tow, and a piping hot cup of coffee to offer him, there was no turning back on the day.

 

I kissed his cheek gently and let my hair brush against his skin. I always hoped a man would remember me for my scent. And this one does. For it isn't the kiss that wakes him; it's my scent. He knows I'm there. He knows I want to wake him.

 

He breathes in deeply and I know I've got his attention. He gives me a bear hug, pulling me under the sheets as I squeal, "The coffee! The coffee!!! Ha ha haa!!!" And he takes it from my hand and sets it down on the nightstand. Then he continues.

 

He pulls my hair to the side and rests his nose against my neck, breathing deeply. I smile to myself as I can't remember being treated so well. How did I get so lucky? Why do I deserve this? What did I do to deserve this? Ahh, it felt so nice.

 

And then he tricked me. He pulled my hair and quickly hoisted himself so I was facing the bed and he was facing my back. He was behind me. I trusted him so I wasn't worried. But I could feel his stomach against my back.

 

He pushed himself inside of me and pulled my hair even harder...

 

I moaned and glanced at the clock; today, on a miserable day just like every day, would be even more miserable just because I'm being made late...or I'll just have to do with not being made up. Of course the happiness would be contagious at work; hopefully I won't get fired.

 

We finished and held each other briefly for a few minutes before the rushing began. I kissed his forehead and laughed about my appearance with him. He had just started getting ready for work and sat on the bed deciding which tie to wear. I chose one and he put it on for me to tie. I immediately knew how to and did as he asked. His sheepish grin gets him far with me even when I'm late for work.

 

Throughout my horrible day at work, he texted me reminders of our upcoming trip to a bed and breakfast a couple of hours out of town. It kept me going through the day, even when my boss was being a bitch. This is why I won't work for another woman again. The bullying is ridiculous.

 

I fought myself riding home. Do I really want to go on this lovely trip? I mean I love the guy. We are in love, but I think he's preparing to propose on the worst work day ever. Maybe he will do it a couple of days in. Maybe he will wait until I'm relaxed. Most of all, I know I want to spend my life with him. After the heartache I know it's fast. But he's real with me. That's what I need. I never want to hurt again.

 

And the way he looks at me...I feel winded every time I glance across a room and see him looking for me. He's gorgeous. And he makes me feel gorgeous. There isn't a better man for me. There just isn't.

 

He wraps his warm hand around mine and kisses it lovingly on the drive up to the b&b and I tingle all over. He talks about our futures together and how happy we make each other. It's true. I can't remember ever being mad or ever feeling horrible with him. I feel so whole and I love myself just as much as I love him. It's amazing how far I've come. How far WE have come. And I love him. I love him. I love him. It's unbelievable.

 

Even after a hard day we arrive to our room. He lights the fireplace. Soft music hums from the other room. I look into his deep, dark eyes as the light waxes and wanes through the blinds. It's getting late. I feel so relaxed.

 

We fall asleep soon after.

 

I wake up to an alarm. It's blaring and loud. I dread going in to my awful job. My pillows are bunched up against me and I know I have to contend with a bully for a boss. Help me. My head screams as I look into the mirror. My age is screaming at me. What happened? I'm not beautiful anymore. It makes me sad. Who will want me now?

 

I go through my routine and sit on the edge of my bed. It's warm. It's quiet. And work awaits me. The weekend brings identity crises. Monday I wake up and do it all again.

 

That's how someone makes your life better.

 

There is what was.

 

And what could have been.

Edited August 1, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

I know most of you have gotten bored and could care less at this point in time. Cars take us by, planes takes us up, trains take us through. By and by, up and away, through and through.

 

The point I'm trying to make is that the stories we hear, the "love is coming soon...when you least expect it...when you're busy...when you love yourself..." Well...the **** ain't true.

 

I've always wanted to deck a friend who said one of those phrases to me. As if it would make me feel better. As if, like they're psychics, it would all come true. I'd go through the motions. I'd hate myself. I'd slowly love myself. And then one day I'd be seeking an item in a grocery store and there he'd be. Ready to love me. That's right; Prince Charming prefers my life to be perfection before he comes along and takes a dump in my life. Cool.

 

Disney lied. Bunch of liars. I can still remember Cinderella prancing around in nearly all white. Her youth beaming. Her eyes naïve and wide. Not true. Life hurts much more. I'd love to watch it again and see her fall out of the carriage and face plant into a mound of rocks right in front of her stepmother. It would be more realistic.

 

Instead, my hours have changed. By one hour. I go in an hour later, and I leave one hour later. Thanks boss. I'm waiting for her to tell me that I need to stay for overtime. I want the money. I don't want to stay though.

 

Anyway, I spent the two year anniversary as a "spa day." I woke up early. I ate right. I fought my way through laundry. And cleared out trash. Hung a mirror. Cleaned the kitchen. And treated my hair and wrinkled face. For what? I don't know.

 

Occasionally I still think of the European. Almost a year and a half ago I had met him and he made me feel complete. Now I struggle to be more like him. Loving life and kicking it in the balls every chance I get.

 

Two years ago today I stood in my condo. Hugging my ex. Crying into his shirt. Wishing he wouldn't go. But he did. It is still the right decision. Even if I sit here somber and quiet, feeling taken advantage of in many ways while he raises his son and I raise myself from the ashes like the Phoenix again and again.

 

"I love you..." I cried. As if he didn't know. Today, I'll tell another secret. One you'd never even believe.

 

I consider myself to have been raped three times. Two, you'd never know. And one, from the depths of despair...the realtor. It's hard to mention. It's unspeakable. It's insane. And I felt I deserved it. I still do.

 

I was 17. And I had gotten a text from him. He was going to a party. And he invited me. I was so excited because of all the crap I'd been through as a teenager. Someone finally wanted me around.

 

All I remember is the outfit I chose. A cheap floral tube top and a cheap solid skirt. I trusted that he'd eventually love me. And he did. But not before this moment.

 

I got out of his red camaro. My parents slept soundly as I escaped. We arrived at the house party. He offered me drinks and I took them. He kissed me. And led me downstairs.

 

When I came to, I was involved in a threesome. How young and stupid I was. I couldn't get the other guy to stop until I told him no several times. My ex had disappeared by this point. Then the other guy got up and left too.

 

I clothed myself and walked up the stairs where my ex and his friend decided what to do with me. I decided to walk home, despite his attempt to get me to get in his car. I still remember walking home. Crying. Not knowing why I deserved that.

 

The next morning I cried to an operator about how I'd been raped and she told me to tell my parents. I never did. Instead I called him thinking he'd be more willing to fix this. He was.

 

It's so easy to look back and think what a dumb ass I was. How I could have stopped the pain. But no. Nobody knows. Not to this day. Only my best friend does.

 

Happy anniversary. Enjoy your new life. Enjoy your son and girlfriend.

 

And I suffer still.

Edited August 3, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

First, let me say that karma is alive and well. While it appears I'm still paying for my random acts of awfulness, so is my ex. Big time.

 

I was speaking to our mutual friend last night and she says, "Hey, I know you don't want to talk about him, but I really want to tell you this, okay?" Well, all right then. Story time. I thought it was going to be all blissful, happy and sweet. Something like, "He's getting married. I wanted you to hear it from me." But no.

 

She says, "Well, him and his girlfriend got into another fight and this time she threw a remote control so hard at his chin that he had to get three stitches..." and I pepper her with questions so she continues, "...He was going to get a pack of cigarettes or beer or something and she got angry at him for it. I'm sure there's ore to it. I'm sure he's not happy. Doesn't make any sense either as her new job is a promo girl position for a big beer company. She's barricaded herself into their apartment so he can't even go home. She says she's leaving him. With his wrap sheet, unless he reports the physical attack, he will lose the option for custody. That's what he gets for having a kid with her so fast. You get a new brand of crazy." Hearing this did not make me feel as good as I thought it would, but I'm still happy I don't have to put up with him.

 

 

Well, I'm glad I don't have these problems. But I can't lie, I'd still love to have someone to love. My therapist says she doesn't think I'd be like him because I've grown so much that I'd be able to choose a partner more wisely. Maybe. Maybe not. I worry I'll wind up with someone, get pregnant, and six months later he slaps me so hard I fall on my stomach and lose the baby. Maybe that's my next worst fear.

 

Which brings me to my job...

 

Tonight I will spend time putting the pieces together. Weaving my story tightly with timelines. Taking my perspective and writing it down. I am a good writer when it comes to expressing my emotions, but will I be good enough to form a case? Yes. This is one thing I know to be true. Not one person I speak to believes otherwise: I am being bullied. The question is, am I being discriminated against?

 

I called a lawyer for our appointment after work. I parked at a gas station as I tried to forcefully tell her what was going on, but then I drew blanks. "She is...uh...well she's not treating me right. Uh..." I have a really hard time talking about myself when I'm in pain. I have a really hard time interviewing. I have a really hard time with speaking in general. It's just...nearly impossible to recall all of this. My mind sputters and spatters and I can't remember it. It is because, I believe, of past trauma. I spend a lot of time blocking out bad memories. It's the only way I know how to survive and be somewhat happy. And when I need my memories the most, they disappear...and all I have are emotions to draw off of. "Well, she made me feel...I felt..." And it is important to know how one feels, but it is even more important to present the facts.

 

"You don't have a case," the lawyer interrupted. I was stunned because I hadn't even finished or gotten to the meat of everything. "You live in an at-will state. You can either quit or let them fire you so you can collect unemployment. It doesn't matter why you quit and it doesn't matter why they fire you." Those words cut me like a knife, but, I needed to hear it. In reality I do have a discrimination case she later admitted. So we will go with that. It was free of charge.

 

I'm preparing my case tonight. I have the email evidence I need that I made from work and forwarded to myself. My friend is involved in helping me mail my complaint out ASAP. My email stating, "I have consulted an attorney. I will be filing a complaint against so and so for discrimination and harassment..." is prepared and ready. My finger will be resting on the trigger tomorrow and I might find myself unemployed, even if it is illegal. But I can't let another day pass like this. I just...can't do it. I'm getting more brazen, more fed up, more ready to scream at my boss, more ready to slap her and walk out. She wanted to push me; that's what she told me over two weeks ago. That's why I deserve to be treated like ****. Uh, okay. I was very highly regarded at my last job. No hand holding necessary.

 

My heart thumps in my chest a mile a minute most days. The only relief I get is on Saturdays. I'm paranoid and anxious. My new coworker notices this and she even mentioned to my boss that she feels like she is caught in the middle. My boss comforted her. My coworker feels like I feel like she's after my job. I told her, "No. That is not the case. This is between me and her. I am angry at her for the way she is treating me."

 

If things are bad now, I know they will get much, much worse. I'm pretty sure I want to do this, however. It will cost me.

[LostInTheWild]

From the darkness, light emerges. The tunnel is lightening to a dim gray. Looking ahead, there is a beam of bright light at the end and a person stands in the center of it all. Whether he knows he does or not.

 

I don't want to write this. I don't want to say anything. If I do, it makes this real. It will be my truth if I admit it. Ah, but what the hell? You only live once. And I know he will never know this. So I'll go ahead and say something, if it's only just for my sanity.

 

There he was, a few months ago. A leader on the shop floor. I had gone out to the floor to run a line, just to see what it was like. I still remember that day when I looked up to see him leaning, nonchalantly, over a pallet jack handle, breezily talking about the issues we were having.

 

I felt my eyebrows flash, the signature reality that I was attracted to him. And I looked away and went about my business. It's been easy ever since that moment because I never saw him. I never thought of a "him." He was just trying to earn some dough like everyone else so I closed my shell. Really...I could always do better anyway, I thought. And besides, he didn't seem to return the flash or exchange any pleasantries like most men interested, so in reality, he wasn't interested. And...he seemed young, bossy, and slightly intimidating. However, I had the edge because of my higher position.

One day a few weeks ago, I found out he would be promoted to higher ranks...higher than me by one level (not my boss) and I was happy he was chosen, but what this meant was that he would be around me more...a lot more. I would need him potentially once per day.

 

 

When I returned from my "vacation " or rather, my couple of days off, he was in my work area. I still denied to myself I was attracted to him. I denied myself entirely because, say it with me, I knew it wouldn't go anywhere. So far, I've been correct. In the future, it will make me psychic. I know what is happening. It is time to forget.

 

I've kept it under control by telling myself he's just young. Then I'd ask myself if he was young. I wasn't sure. I'd check him out, listen when he spoke, and kept dealing with my own issues. I mean really, do I even have another try in me? Not really. No. I did that with the Ice Prince. And he's gone. I have officially given up. No joke. I spend my days alone, entertaining myself with prank videos and movies and ice cream and alcohol. I am very alone. And I very much prefer it.

 

I went into work today expecting to be scolded and screamed at, but instead I was ordered to join the crew on the shop floor for a project that was initially done incorrectly, so I had to help repair the damage. So I did. Only to get away from her screaming. Her lashings. Everything. Here was something I knew how to do: be interested in someone.

 

Oh how I've fought, tried, forgotten, and been reminded again. I'm not interested in anyone or anything. I'm busy; I'm busy being alone right now and would appreciate if all crushes reported to the entrance of a port-a-potty in Southern Africa somewhere. Come on....where is the switch? How do I put these fires out?! And I've been so good...

 

So then it happened — I needed him. Not by my own cause, but by sheer need for guidance. I'm not at a stage where I'm stalking. I'm only admiring. He is very cold. Very professional typically. Very....just...very guarded. Like me. He is very somber, impolite, business-ready. Very..."in it." However I am not intimidated. I am very relaxed like I typically am in everything.

 

Today is when I began to notice him to thepoint of being unable to ignore my interest. I called his name and he immediately came to me, towering and hovering. I felt safe. He solved the issue and went back to his desk, now moved out to the shop. He sat in interesting contemplation while I quizzed him on his last position. "I was a lead for ten years. It was a nightmare," he answered. He never once looked up from his monitor. I left him alone.

 

Then I needed him again. He stood up again, towering, ready to assist...he's never seemed so helpful in my eyes. I asked him questions about the issues and he gave me the most gentle responses I've gotten since I'd started there. I'll never forget what a teddy bear he was. I never saw it coming. He always seems annoyed and angry, staring at his screen and barking orders at other people. I ignored this too.

 

Then the end of the day came. The other supervisor had left for the day and my "crush" came into our office to take his seat temporarily. When he went to sit down, however, another employee remarked on the other supervisor's age. "He's only 32," the new supervisor admitted. When I heard that I knew he was older than me. There is something about hearing "only 30+" that stops you when you're close to that age. It only means someone is nearing that age.

 

My coworker had the idea to ask, "Well, how old are you?" And I loved her immediately. He was reluctant. But he's 30 years old. Thirty years old...two years older than me. What?

 

At this point I became intrigued. And more motivated to know him. I hoped my coworker would drag on with questions but she didn't. I know very little. All I do know is he checked his phone and seemed delighted for the message he received. I don't know if he has children or not. I know nothing.

 

But...I do know I'm attracted to him. Let's see what time unfolds.

Edited August 7, 2015 by LostInTheWild

[LostInTheWild]

Whirring, effortless, soft, and so...beautiful the sounds they make. It signifies the midsummer. It's the main comfort I get in the day, just being able to listen to them. If I knew I was going to die and I was asked what I'd take with me, it would only be this sound.

 

They're everywhere, calling for a mate. Desperately seeking to reproduce. Desperately seeking another like themselves. To me, it sounds desperate. The most wonderous desperation I've ever heard and it only sounds this way because it lasts so long. It's sweet. They're saying, "I'm here damn it. Let's fall in love. Like, right now." I wonder if there's ever an odd man out who didn't accomplish what he was born to do by the time the whooping slows and dies.

 

 

I wake up early and feel trapped, but in a good way. Arms and legs are wrapped around me, keeping me from flying everywhere at once, even in my sleep. I feel at peace here, looking out into the valley from the bed and through the large window next to the fireplace. I dare not move; I don't want this moment to pass. I'm so happy.

 

I drift away again, realizing it's too early to wake. It feels like a brief period of sleep before I feel his lips on my temple, gently tracing a line back to my hair. He whispers, "It's time to get up, love." I could listen to his soft voice all day. He soothes me awake by gently rubbing my arm. I look up at him and can feel my eyes change from bewilderment to tenderness, to love, and to infatuation. Even after all this time I can only wonder how I can possibly be so in love. I never imagined this would happen. But it did.

 

We get room service and talk about our crazy week leading up to our trip. The food arrives and I suddenly remember how famished I was. I eat fruit, eggs, and pancakes. So delicious; food is the bed and breakfasts absolute specialty, along with the best mattress I've ever slept on.

 

With the Fall taking hold, the leaves are beginning to change, but it's still so warm. We explore the grounds, hand in hand, stopping for kisses here and there. We laugh and talk, just like we always have. The chemistry is undeniable. He's everything I've ever wanted and fantasized about—faults and all. Sometimes I don't really know what to do with myself when we are apart because there's so much that is beautiful...it's too much to take in.

 

He is tall. His dark green eyes and creamy, brown hair make me weak. He's unbelievably attractive with a smile that warms me to my core. I hope we will be like this, just like this, always and forever. Even if I know it's impossible. I've never doubted us. I've never felt suspicious. I've never had to look for him. I know he's serious about us. I can see it in the way he watches me so carefully, like I might vanish. Like I don't seem real to him. I've never seen anything like it.

 

We spend all day outside, exploring. We finally come up to a path and I am so afraid he won't propose. It's such a beautiful day it would be sad if he didn't if not for that fact alone. He stops me by the bank and kisses me. The water is soft and the remaining daylight reflects up onto us. He starts telling me how happy he is. How he wouldn't change a thing about us. He touches my hair and holds my head in his enormous hands while he stares deeply into my eyes. "I love you so much," he whispers.

 

He gets down on one knee and I think I sense nervousness in his stature, but he follows through. He pulls out a small, black box and opens it for me to see and breathlessly says, "Will you be my wife?" I cry hysterically. I mean, this is what I've wanted since I was a little girl, right? A gorgeous man desperately in love with me. I glance at him through my tears and say, "I thought you'd never ask. Yes! YES! I love you so much..." And sobbing takes over.

 

He stands up to hug me. It feels like a fairytale. He cries a little, but it sounds more like relief. He admits as he's holding me, he knew I was the one the minute he met me. I admit I knew I'd never feel the fear of never feeling like this again, because I knew too. He slides the ring onto my finger and kisses me again. I reach out to him for a hug and breathe him in deeply.

 

 

I offer some atonement for LITW here. Here's to feeling like you'll never get what you want, but getting it anyway. At least with some imagination.