A Simple Kinda Man

If weekends could talk, this past one would be telling the story of strength, sorrow, excitement, fantasy, and rock n’ roll.  A weekend worth remembering, but one that took a great deal of strength to endure on my part.

After two weeks of being completely mistreated by a man I only dated for five weeks, I cut all ties on Saturday morning.  I had planned on waiting to see him in person to decide what to do, but that all changed when he sent me an accidental text Friday night.  Backing up, let me tell you about my Friday night.  If you read my Friday post, you are aware that I was in contact with a musician I had seen last summer.  I found him on a dating site, and he invited me out to his show.  I went — all by myself.  After his set, we sat and had some drinks, and he called me later on that night.  I was pretty taken with him, but I hadn’t finished things with RST (the trucker).

That night when I was on the phone with the musician, I received a test from RST at 1:00 a.m.  It wasn’t meant for me.  That did it for me.  I just had had enough.  I sent him a message telling him to never message me again.  He did, of course, the next morning.  He acted like the victim once again.  I didn’t bite this time.  I told him that his lack of affection and attention made me lose interest.  I told him that I was looking for someone who actually wanted to talk and hang out with me.  He acted confused, but then told me off.  DONE.

The following night, I went out with my friends to watch the musician’s show again.  When he was done, we all hung out and played pool.  He ended up driving me home, and I invited him in to play guitar together.  We drank wine, played guitar, and cuddled all night.  He’s much younger than I am, and I have no idea if it will go anywhere.  Tonight he is coming over to cook me dinner, and I’m looking forward to spending time with him.  He’s fun to be around, and he’s a simple kinda man.   If anything we will have some fun and enjoy each other’s company.

On another note — I’ve tried commenting on a few of your blogs today, but Word Press is acting up.  Hopefully it will let me comment later.  Happy Monday my blogger friends — here’s to a great week.

Good-Bye Letter For An Asshole

Image result for finding closure

When a relationship ends, it is always better to find some type of closure.  Unfortunately, the man I was seeing didn’t give me that opportunity.  He simply sent a text saying he was confused about his feelings for his ex.  PERIOD.  Done.  I, of course, will not engage in a texting war over this, so we haven’t spoken since.  Now I’m left to my own devices to find closure.  Solution???? Blog it out.

This, I hope, will be the last post I write about the asshole who broke my heart.  He doesn’t deserve anymore screen time.  However, I need to get it out of my system, and my blog is as good as any place to vent.  I thought about writing and emailing a letter to him, but I don’t believe that will make me feel better.  If anything, it will feed his narcissistic arsehole needs.  I don’t know that he’s actually a narcissist; he’s given me no alternative but to guess why he behaved the way he did.  Anyway, I want to write him a letter even if he never sees it.  This is that letter:

Dear Asshole:

It doesn’t seem to matter how many of your type I meet, I’m still always surprised at how much of a dick people can be.  You came around pretending to be an honourable man with good intentions.  You told me I was beautiful, smart, funny, and amazing.  You sent me daily text messages and called me every night to tell me how much you were falling for me.  When I told you how scared I was to let my heart go, you promised you were not going anywhere.  You appeared to be the man I’ve been waiting for.  I trusted you.

I see now that it was all a game to you, and I was nothing more than food for your ego.  You strung me along with false promises and intentions, and then you carelessly tossed me aside when you were full.  You, sir, are a piece of shit.

Still, I hold my head up high and love myself.  I allowed myself to be vulnerable because I am a beautiful person deserving of love.  You may have abused that, but you did not damage me.  You made me stronger and more aware of just how loving I am.  You reminded me that I am capable of trusting and loving someone.  I may have given my love too freely, but I’m ok with that.  Just as easily as I gave my love, I take it back.

Lastly, I forgive you.  I don’t know your reasons for being a coward.  You have your own issues to deal with, and I wish you luck with them.  My only hope is that you do not hurt another loving soul in your journey to self discover.  Today, I have deleted all pictures of you, and day by day, the memory of you will become distant.  Please do not try and reach out to me in the future, as I will not be waiting for you.  I don’t care why you did what you did.  You didn’t show me the respect I deserve; therefore, you are no longer welcome in my heart.  GOODBYE dick head — I’m moving on.

 

Soul Cry

For five years, I kept my heart under lock and key.  There was no way I was giving it up until I found what I was looking for.  I truly thought I had, but I was so very wrong.  My heart hurts so badly right now, I can barely breathe.  My red dry eyes burn from the river of tears that have flowed from them the last two days.  The beat of my heart is a thunderous boom in my head.  My muscles are wound so tight I’m afraid they are going to burst.  This is day two of my broken heart.

I feel foolish for feeling so hurt from a man I only dated for five weeks.  But I feel what I feel.  It has been so long since I’ve let my guard down, and I was happy.  He made me smile, and I enjoyed everything about him.  He told me he was falling hard for me, he made future plans with me, and I can still feel his touch when I close my eyes.  How could I have not seen this coming?  Yesterday out of the blue he told me he needed a moment to catch his breath.  I left him be, and this morning he sent another text (no phone call, just text).  He said I have made him question his readiness for a relationship.  He wonders if he isn’t fully over his last relationship, and that maybe he thinks about her too often.  My response: Nothing.

I’m not ready to respond.  I don’t know what to say to him.  One minute, I want to tell him it’s normal to question, the next I want to tell him to go fuck himself.  I want to yell at him for leading me on and allowing me to fall for him.  Thank him for being so careless with my heart.  But for now, I will say nothing.  He doesn’t deserve a response to a text message.  He didn’t respect me enough to call and talk to me about his feelings.

I’m so tired.  Exhaustion has taken over, but I know I will keep pushing myself.  I will push myself to the gym, and I will push myself to stay busy.  The pain will lessen, and I will survive.  Right now I hurt though.  Every single part of me is longing for him; my soul cries.   I miss him.

A Storm To Remember

Anyone who was a fan of Prince was shocked by the news of his death yesterday.  I was writing out an incident report at work when I received a text message from a friend informing me of his passing.  The morning started out promising with clear skies and sun; but clouds rolled in sometime around 10:00 a.m.  Just after lunch, the rain started to fall; first a drizzle and then a down pour.  The thunder echoed loudly through the valley, as strong winds rattled the windows of my office. Watching the rain arrive

My mood changed from apathy to melancholy.  By mid-afternoon, a local warninMore fentanyl-related overdoses in Kamloopsg was sent out, as six people were admitted to the hospital due to a fentayl overdose — all within hours of each other. It felt like the storm was a result of all that was wrong in the world yesterday.

My emotions were as dismal as the weather.  After work, I drove home to prepare for my evening fitness class.  Last night was my first night back to teaching, and I hadn’t even planned out the class yet.  I put on my music and began preparing the warm-up, and then the rain started again.  The smell of wet pavement walfted through the open windows.  It was intoxicating.  My spirits began to lift.

The class went perfectly, and the energy in the studio was exhilirating.  Aftsweater class, I hopped on the spin bike for a quick 30 minute ride before returning home.  It was late by the time I got home, close to 8pm.  I started dinner before jumping into the shower to wash off two hours of workout sweat.  The feeling of warm water washing over my aching tired body was pure heaven.  I took my time in the shower, allowing my body and mind to relax.  Then I threw on a tank top and shorts, poured a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and sat down for dinner.

I opened my kitchen window and sat down to eat.  The rain had started again, but the air was crisp and the breeze felt good.  I turned on the radio; the DJ voice was somber as he talked about the passing of a pop icon — next he plays the song “Purple Rain”.  This song has always moved me; it’s one of those songs you close your eyes to and just drift with.  I turned back to my dinner, and took a sip of wine.  My dog was resting her head on the top of my feet, and all of a sudden a flash of lightning spreads across the sky.  I felt the hairs on my arms rise, and I began to cry.  “Honey, I know, I know, I know times are changing…” tears and wine lingered on my tongue.  I can’t even explain the rush of emotions I was feeling.  The lightning storm was at it’s peak, and the rain was falling in rhythm with my tears.

Lightning storms are common at this time of year, but yesterday’s storm is one I will remember forever.  RIP Prince.

But Only a Dream

I’m standing in front of the house I used to live in with my ex-husband.  The air is chilly, and ominous clouds hover above.  There is someone standing behind me; I feel a jolt of energy run through my body…

All of a sudden I am standing in the kitchen, and I realize the house is completely distroyed.  I have my house back, but it will cost thousands to repair the damages… from out of nowhere my boss looks at me disapprovingly, and say’s “how could you let this happen?”  I want to tell him I’m sorry, but he’s gone and I’m…..

I’m in a car, holding hands with a faceless man – I’m in love.  I love being in love; I feel full of joy and happiness.  He turns to look at me, and I see it’s the barista from my favorite coffee shop.  How did I not know that I was in love with this man?  We are having so much fun; we are completely head over heals for eachother.  I go to kiss him and I realize…. 

It’s now my ex-boyfriend driving the car, but it’s not a car anymore – we are sitting in my living room.  Why is it not the barista in my living room; I don’t want to be in love with me ex.  He’s standing now, looking down at me.  He tells me I need to be ok with him having another girlfriend if things are going to work out between us.  I start YELLING at no one “BUT I DON’T WANT THIS” It’s completely silent….

As I’m run through the trails behind my house; it’s the hottest time of the day, and I have no water.  My legs are burning, and my eyes are stinging from the sweat dripping into them.  I want to stop, but I can’t because the rest of my coworker are close by, and they will pass me.  The barista is by my side, and he encourages me to keep going.  We get to the finish line, and he pulls me into his arms.  “You did it, I’m so proud, and I love you so much.”  

I wake up.  I am totally disoriented, and when I close my eyes I can still feel my loves embrace.  Suddenly I realize I have to pee, but there are no bathrooms.  My eyes open, the sensation to go is real.  I sigh knowing I have to let the dream go, but I don’t want to.  I want to hold on to the feeling of being loved again.  To realize it isn’t real is heartbreaking.  I actually feel sad.  I roll to my side, and turn on the bedside lamp.  I can no longer hold it in.  I need to get up.  I mentally let go of my fantasy love – it’s gone now.

I dream almost every night.  Not always about being in love; however, more so lately.  Being single was great for a couple years, but I have been ready for love for awhile.  It just isn’t happening, and the longer I remain single, the more I miss being in love.  I find myself getting excited about sleeping, because I am loved only in my dreams.  Loved by a man that is.

In the past I have experienced dreams about lost loved ones.  Family or friends who have passed on.  In my dreams I can talk to them again, and I am so happy they are not dead any longer.  When I wake, I have to mourn them all over again.

Dreaming is bittersweet.  You can have all the things you want that are either not possible or not available right now in real life.  However, when you wake up the feeling of loss can be unbareable.  These types of dreams can affect my mood for the whole day.   I yearn for what isn’t or can’t be.  But still, I am glad for them.  I am grateful for the feeling of love, or the opportunity to tell my grandma how much I miss her and love her.

I love dreaming – I hope to dream until the end of my days.