Boxing Butterflies

I still have butterflies when I see him.  I can’t help how I feel; my heart just hasn’t been able to catch up with my mind.  I know at this point that it’s best for me to let go and walk away, but when I see him I just can’t.  Who he is, how he is, what he is… I’m still in love with him.  In spite of obvious flaws, shortcomings, and his own demons.  Truly unconditional — something he wasn’t ready to return or face.  How I feel isn’t logical, productive, or even right anymore.  But it IS.

And, in all honesty, I just can’t stop.  I want to, to save myself some hurt, but I can’t.  In my mind, I know I have to let it go, I know that I’m enough and that I can survive without him.  I just want him.  And when he walks into the room, everything I feel comes rushing back like waves, pulling me with the tide.  How he ended things wasn’t right; I deserved better treatment, no doubt.  But I can’t deny what we had, or how quickly I react when he’s in my presence.  I haven’t accepted the entire picture yet, because bringing everything into complete focus means having to address the mistreatment and the immaturity.

But being around him for over a week on a tropical island like Barbados?  Complete torture.  Seeing his ex constantly in his face, obviously still harboring her own feelings?  Killing me slowly, like the death of 1,000 cuts.  Wondering whether he would succumb to her advances because she’s right there in front of him, and we all knew he could get it if he wanted to?  Hell.  Beautiful, tropical island hell with a big cup of rum punch to fuel the flames.

We were civil.  Most days I felt like he was avoiding me, which I understood.  Guilt can do a number on you, and it has certainly been doing a number on him.  We had a heart to heart one day in an attempt to clear the air, and honestly I think that he expects me to make advances to get him back.  He thinks that I will ask him to come back to me, beg him for a reason, or let him into my bed just for a fleeting moment of reminiscence.  Thankfully, though my heart hasn’t caught up with my head, I can salvage enough reason and self-respect to know that I can’t (and won’t) ask him back or open myself up to more hurt.  I may not be ready to completely let go, but I’m not going to beg someone to be with me.  I don’t want to be with anyone who doesn’t want me.  That’s been my saving grace.

It’s sad, but I wish he would give me a reason to hate him.  Maybe he has, and I overlooked because I feel the way I do.  But hating him would make things so much easier, because I wouldn’t struggle against letting go — I just would.

I have everything I need for closure.  I’m almost there.  It’s akin to packing for a move.  I have the box and the tape all set.  But my heart has to let go of these feelings so that I can pack them away.  I’ll always have some feeling for him, but this box needs to go in the garage and stop cluttering up my house.

Time for a little spring cleaning.

The Dating Rotation

Do you ever try to keep your calendar full so that you don’t have time to think about the fact that you’re very much single (and maybe a little lonely)?  I’m not afraid to admit that I do.  Especially around the holidays, more than any other time of year, I miss having someone to spend time with.  I miss cute little gifts (and big expensive ones too), cuddling up when it gets cold outside (though I’m starting to think there’s no such thing as cold in New Orleans), and making plans for the new year.  I’ve filled up my calendar, made some new friends, and kept myself busy at work so that I don’t really have time to think about it, but I still do.  Why is it always so difficult to find someone that wants to be there?  Wants to make an effort, actually cares, can be 100% real?

I used to have what I called a dating rotation, but my BS meter failed me on several occasions, and I’m to the point now where I’m so wary of nonsense that I don’t want to bother.  Each person in the rotation served a purpose.  One was fun to go out with, watch movies, shoot some pool, etc.  One was more of the “stay in” type for movies, cuddling, and well… you know.  One was a total foodie and would explore restaurants with me or be my guinea pig on new recipes I was trying out.

You may wonder why I decided to date a bunch of people, but there was a real reason.  Alone, each of these guys wasn’t boyfriend material.  They were good for certain things, but none of them really fit the mold of what I really needed.  I never lied or gave anyone the idea that we were exclusive, and I was forthcoming in admitting that I was dating other people.  I expected the same honesty.   I kept the rotation because I knew I didn’t want to fall for these guys, and what I had in place kept me from developing feelings for any one person.  And it worked for a while, but I eventually wanted more.  Just not from any of them.  Maybe I sound like a terrible person, but there was no deception.  We all parted ways amicably, one by one.  And then it was just me again.  And then I had butterflies… and, for whatever reason, it didn’t work out.  I was so sure about that one, would have done anything for him, but it didn’t matter.  At least not to him.

Though I’ll be the first to admit that I want someone right now, I don’t have the energy to start up another rotation.  Maybe it comes from turning 30, maybe I’ve just decided that all of the BS isn’t worth the trouble of dealing with a few.  I just want one.  One that I can be dedicated to, be myself with, share and experience things with that wants to be with me in the same ways.   Someone that’s willing to work at it, will tell me when I’m wrong, but who will also hear me when I’m right.  I don’t need pretense, nor am I looking for an immediate fix.

I’m looking for real.  Well, maybe “looking” isn’t the proper term… I’m praying for real.  When I look, they’re never right.  I assume that’s because when we know what we want and need, we try our best to make the person in front of us fit the mold.  But they don’t.

Everyone says to just let it happen.  Well, my white flag is waving.  No more rotations, no more quick fixes.

If it doesn’t have true potential, I just can’t do it anymore.

Drawing a Line

Sometimes I think you hope that there will be more, even when you know it’s over.  Maybe because it wasn’t your decision to end things, maybe because you don’t want to start all over again.  There’s always a reason.

I think one of my biggest hangups has always been that I’m completely honest, and I expect the same in return.  I want to be able to tell you what it is, and I want you to do the same.  I don’t see the point in flowering words to save feelings, someone else’s or my own, because then we’re not really at the heart of the matter.  We’re skating around it.  I always come back to two words: be real.  In my last romance, I honestly don’t know what happened to cause our demise.  I just know it’s over.

I started blogging just over 9 years ago.  My first start was on Xanga, and then Blogger, and now WP.  Over 12 blogs in all, multiples are still in use.  I was grieving over the loss of someone very close to me — someone I’d known her entire life — my sister.  That same year, I lost 4 more people close to me, and I felt like my world was closing in around me.  Honestly, I’m still grieving.  Writing has always been my outlet; I always knew how to describe and myself through written word.  It wasn’t until I’d dealt with some demons through writing that I realized that I had a need to express myself verbally.  If I love someone, I need to say it.  I can’t hold back anymore.  I’ve lost too many opportunities with people I grew up loving to continue to hold back.  The cycle would just repeat itself, and I don’t think that I could bear it.

The one that gave me butterflies… There’s no question, I love him.  Even now.  He knows that.  And maybe he didn’t love me back, or he wasn’t ready.  Maybe I just wasn’t the right one for him.  I may never know, and I’ve accepted that.  Maybe we can never be friends or be close the way that we were.  He’s drawn a line.  At the end of the day, though, I just hope he remembers.  I won’t forget how I felt, or how I loved him, or what I’d hoped for.

Maybe there’s something better out there and I just can’t see it yet.  Maybe.

Refocusing

When I first started this blog, I think that I wanted this to be the end-all, be-all blog for me.  However, I just don’t think that’s me.  Reviews, and recipes, and books, and dating, and musings — oh my!  Too much.

Being a true capricorn, I’m feeling the need to reorganize and refocus, because everything has its place.  Trust me, I know how ridiculous and structured (and anal retentive) this sounds to have everything in different places, but it works for me.  If I told you how many blogs I have, you wouldn’t believe me.

I think that I really want this blog to focus far less on food reviews, since I already do that separately.  I don’t need to write book reviews right now — I’m trying to write books that I can publish!  Rather, I want this blog to be similar to the first one I ever wrote.  It was on Xanga, and it was purely an organic group of posts about whatever came to mind.  Experiences, observations, musings, dating, reactions, and diatribes.  Rants every now and then.  Maybe even my reaction to an amazing recipe once in a while.  But rarely.

Do you ever find that sometimes you need to completely express something that’s on your mind before you can really focus on the task at hand?  I know that I do.  And it’s so necessary, because whatever that thought is, it will nag at me until I do something with it — like a dull headache that lingers until I finally break down and take an Advil.  A dear friend of mine, way back from Xanga days reminded me of the kind of blogging I used to do, and how I used to really be willing to “go there.”  She reminded me how much I missed that writing, and how much I’ve begun to censor myself.  Well, no more.

It’s back to the writing therapy that I need to get out my thoughts and clear the clutter from my mind so that I can focus on whatever writing project I’m working on at the moment.  If I ever want to get these novels published, it’s time to get a little more serious.

Welcome to the mind purge of Simone Marrise.