Friday, April 7, 2017

It was meant for me

I was ready, convinced, to end it all the summer of 2015.
I planned the Eurotrip as a last hurrah.
... Let my eyes see Rome and Paris one last time...
What exactly made me hold on, I do not know... since the trip was a flop, considering the amount of times I found myself crying or publicly humiliated.

2016 served as a constant reminder of what a foolish, downright selfish deed suicide really is. So many friends and family endured horrible health tragedies, I spent most of 2016 feeling ashamed for my suicidal thoughts.
Then just as 2016 was pulverizing me with the possibility of losing my beloved aunt... my world was turned upside down by the sudden reappearance of an old... "boyfriend."
Facebook... fucking Facebook... I'm one of those now... someone who was found through the social media platform and... had her life changed.
November 2016 to now has been a whirlwind of motherfucking whirlwinds. I look back to old posts from years ago and wonder HOW THE FUCK IS THIS HAPPENING NOW?!
I've been so happy... but simultaneously so fucking scared... it has made me completely forget what 2015 even felt like... I can't remember what "fog" feels like.

I've been keeping all of this to myself... the stories, the memories, the cute conversations, the heart-melting stares, the visits, the days, the nights... just everything... to myself. I've never done that before. I find myself feeling bad for keeping so much to myself... when my sister or brother or best friend hear something for the first time (like when my brother found out I had a boyfriend... and WHO he was, he was in absolute shock for DAYS) I feel like shit for having kept them in the dark for so long. I just... I'm so scared of losing it, of losing what I have... like I always do... in motherfucking spectacular fashion... I feel the moment I speak of something so wonderful, it will leave my grip and leave me in the worst spot I've ever been.
I'm at such a high... an all-time high... a spot I NEVER thought I'd reach, that I was convinced was NOT meant for me... I'm certain losing it will be the end of me... I will have no way to recover from it... no way.
I've had many moments where I've quietly been embracing him... and have caught my conscience thinking "So this is what it feels like... this... this is what it feels like for someone to be as madly in love with me as I am with them?... this is beautiful..."
And then the negativity infiltrates my mind, the fear creeps in.
How is this going to get ripped out of my hands? When is it going to be stripped away?

I love him, and he loves me. It is insane how synched we are... it's even more insane how silent I have been about it, and how damn near no one knows about this giant step in my life... how I've managed to remain completely silent about it until now.

My life is so different now... and it's only going to further depart from my norm.
I didn't think I was meant to feel like this... to be loved like this... it's... I can't think too much about it or else I cry.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Burj Burj Burj

GUYS! GUYS!! HOLY SHIT, GUYS!

I... never in my motherfucking wildest dreams did I think I'd be experiencing the shit I've experienced in the last three months. I don't even know where to begin.
I have been wanting to write something up... but... good lord, it's impossible to contain the energy long enough to sit the fuck down for a minute or two to type shit up.

2017 has punched the fucking shit out of me, in the strangest way.... it has been a motherfucking Mack truck.

I want to say more, but I also grow scared and nervous that I'll fuck shit up.

I mentioned bracing myself for a horrible fall... and that shit has been hanging heavy in the back of my mind. I am at an all-time high, but I find myself unable to fully appreciate it because I know I'm going to find a way to trip and fall.
It's like... I made it to the fucking top of the Burj Khalifa-- zero safety railings or harnesses-- and I'm only preoccupied with looking down, knowing I'm going to fall down to a very gory death... instead of taking the time to appreciate the gorgeous sights around me and the amazing high of being able to reach that spot.

Eventually I'll talk more about it... when I'm comfortable and less paranoid about fucking up something awesome.

Monday, February 13, 2017

lobsters in a tank

It's like time stood still... like those 20 years didn't go by... the feelings are amplified.
I haven't been this happy in a very long time.
No one has looked at me like he does, spoken to me like he does, and much less touched me the way he does... as though I'm the most fucking precious object on Earth.

My lobster-- he's alive, and has found me. I have agreed to get caught in the same tank.

But this isn't a happy story... anything that ever has to do with me should never be considered a happy story.

I'm just trying to hold on to this feeling before the world collapses... like it always does... knowing full well that this time it will hurt worse than it ever has in the past.

... I jumped off that cliff with my motherfucking eyes closed.

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Black Mustang

"I'm the black mustang," he texted.
I saw him through his tinted windows, and smiled... hopping out of my parked car.
I had been waiting about a minute, letting him know what part of the mall parking lot I was in.
He nervously stood in front of me, I immediately went in for the hug-- as tightly as possible.

"Jesus Christ... I haven't seen you since... seventh grade!" I said.
The smell of freshly blazed weed overtook my nostrils.
He bashfully kicked at the floor, hands in pockets, occasionally making eye-contact with my overly excited face.
"Oh my god... that is strong," I said as I cough a little.
"I knew it'd be a good idea to blaze before seeing you... you're fucking beautiful, I would have not been able to talk to you at all" he said.

I met up with 5thGradeBoyfriend today... and it was... so good... oddly very good... like... I... didn't even suspect it would feel this good.
He drove out from Arizona for the weekend, unbeknownst to me.
He was incredibly bashful, which was uncommon in the guy I always knew... he was a total bad kid last time I checked. I found myself in the awkward position of trying to make HIM feel comfortable... I was the one with the job of speaking... of asking questions... acting extroverted.
Often times, I'd come to a complete silence because I'd catch him through my periphery just gazing at me... a gaze I've never felt, really... the goofiest, dopiest... most... lovestruck gaze I've ever seen anyone throw my way. It was like live-action Bambi... the twitterpated part.
"Ummm... Hiiiii, *5thGBF*!" I'd say, waving while smiling.
"I'm sorry... I just..." he'd say.
"It's really me... I'm here, in the flesh," I said, grabbing his hand with mine, showing him I was really there.

The way he looks at me... it's... it'll follow me for life. He has always looked at me that way... like I'm... some fucking mirage of his wildest dreams come true... not a lusty dream, just... a calm, joyous dream... if that makes sense. There is no perverse lust in his look... or judgement... it's... such a lovely feeling... I can't explain it... I just, never thought anyone out there would be able to look at me that way... like... I'm being worshipped... like I'm the best fucking thing the universe could have placed in their tracks.
Like I am a motherfucking heavenly mirage, damn it.

I'd look down and blush... smiling when the quiet admiring of my face (and it was just my face... not my tits, or legs, or ass... he'd examine every inch of my face with the most tender glance... Jesus, it gives me goosebumps) would last too long.
"Whaaaaat?" I'd finally whine.
"You're just... so much prettier... I didn't think it could be possible... you're... so perfect. Everything about you is so perfect," he said one of the times.
There was a hint of melancholy in his speech... like his regrets over his bad decisions would get the best of him. The guy carries a lot of sadness... and he's genuinely shocked that I would insist on staying friends with him, on being with him.
"Aren't you ashamed of being seen with me?" he asked.
"Why would I?" I asked.
"Like that white dude. He's clearly wondering what a nice girl like you... in your Audi, is doing talking to a... lowlife like me," he said.
My heart broke.
"I don't give a shit what he thinks. Your heart is kind and kept me sane during a time I felt at my loneliest" I said.

We talked for two hours... in my car, in the parking lot of a mall... my flowery scent mixing with his lingering weed fumes... and that shit felt like heaven.

The way he quietly admired my face... I'll never forget that.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

So many thanks

Always my favorite holiday.
Always weird, often uncomfortable situations occur.
Still my favorite holiday.

I spend this day with the family I hold closest, the ones who always show their love and share it.

I didn't think this day would come as fast as it did, I was actually dreading the awkward political confrontation that was promised to occur instead.
I never thought one of my closest relatives would be fighting for her life so damn soon.
Instead of political fights, my beloved aunt, Mooney's mom, suffered a massive aneurysm... and has been hospitalized since Sunday morning. I haven't seen her conscious at all.

Life's a blur. I haven't stayed so long in a hospital for any other family member in the past, not even my father. I fucking hate hospitals... yet there I am, not giving a shit... for as long as I can.
I love this woman... a lot... like, I can't begin to explain how much of my happiness and mental sanity I owe to her. She helped rescue my childhood from the doom it was promised. She has helped put a smile on my face during bitter growing pains.

Today was somber... today we all forced the food down... but we also stuck together like the glue we are.
Tonight I saw my aunt open her eyes... and give the nurse her famous annoyed glare... and I saw her squeeze my uncle's hand, and move her index finger when asked to do it... she moved it with desperation... the "I'm here! I'm HERE!" kind of desperation you so often see in movies.

I just want her to come back... and today was a promising start.
Please come back, tia.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

The hero

I guess this is the part in my story where the hero comes to my rescue after I have lost all hope.

Life is SUCH A FUCKING TRIP!
After quite possibly the most traumatic week of my life (this whole election bullshit has made me physically ill... where I've fainted in the middle of bootcamp and have felt nauseated all damn day. That same visceral reaction I have to news that upsets me horrifically), like in a fucking movie... the hero in my life reappears.

Today, out of the blue, at around 6pm, I logged on to FB to notice I had a new friend request. Rolling my eyes, I clicked on the notification expecting some annoying middle aged person from Hometown... but instead saw the name... a name I have been looking for since high school: Mario, the boy from the Red Ruffles story from a few years ago.

HE'S ALIVE!
He's a fucking stereotypical Raiders fan... but he's fucking ALIVE! And FREE.
I screamed.
I almost cried.
I shivered like a dog with no shelter in the middle of a rainstorm.
All over an ex-convict.

I had not seen this guy since 1998... I felt elated.
My one protector during one of the most difficult times of my life... the one voice telling me I was beautiful when the majority were taking time trying to drown me in the negative;
The boy from the wrong side of the tracks who showed me and only me the depth of his soul:
Mario.

And it did not take him more than five minutes to remind me I was beautiful, that I am "prettier" now.

Like... man... I fucking cried with joy... that bittersweet joy... of just how fucking FUCKED life is.

Is he trying to get in my pants like some dads my age are nowadays? Probably. Do I care? No. I'm happy to know he's out there... and it makes me blush to know he went through the trouble of looking for me. I feel... even if it's not the case, I feel as though... someone with whom I've intersected in life still remembers that time, and remembers it fondly. It makes me feel like I matter... like I'm memorable... like I really did mean something to him. It satiates that desire, that dream, that little line I'd constantly tell myself, the line I so badly wanted to believe during my lows: someone out there is looking for YOU.
After over a decade dealing with these situation where guys I think so highly about are constantly reminding me how fucking worthless I am to them, how forgettable and often obnoxious/burdensome I am... there's this kid I shared memories with twenty years ago... and he still thinks fondly of me.
That means the fucking world to me... especially right now.

This feeling is so fucking weird.

I am a nerdy shy girl... whose been on the back of the mind of a hardcore ex-con... and it makes me blush...
What?!

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Too soon

Well, shit, looks like I'm psychic, aren't I?