My life is going really well right now ladies and gents. Not even two weeks ago, I finished a show that I loved with many of my best friends in it directed by Anne Libera. I have been booked for many shows coming up including being a semi-finalist for Chicago's Top College Comedian Competition. I was called back for three roles and was told that I was "incredibly talented" in one of them within the same week. I finally have my improv sea-legs which took months of hard work and practice. I'm turning 21 in two months and get to spend a weekend with my best friend to celebrate. Not to mention, I feel like I have surrounded myself with some of the best, most talented people I've ever met. I'm over the moon with excitement for my life right now. But, seeing as I'm an American, I have found something to spend my Tuesday night weeping over. The more successful I am, the farther I am from finding love. This is strictly a correlation but it has been booming in the back of my mind for weeks now.
I know that I'm young, I know that I've got plenty of time to find "the one", I know that I should be focused on myself right now but I can't help feeling like I'm forever alone. I look around at the beautiful, successful relationships my friends are/have been in. Is it because they are soulmates? Is it because they are lonely and coping with another person? Is it because they deserve it and I don't? What is it? Why am I so caught up on it? I have so many questions and a very small capacity to answer them.
I've slept around quite a bit and I'm not ashamed of it in the least but I'm starting to see how pointless it is for me. I'll confess this, I've never "climaxed" because of a man. I've never felt the rush of clutching at a man while you feel like you're dying and being reborn. I've never even come close. So sex isn't that enjoyable to me but it often makes relationships more complicated than they need to be. Quickly, the relationships start to become about sex and not really love. They become about lust. I noticed this when Charles and I were having a hard time holding a conversation when we weren't horizontal. Our relationship started because we liked each other but quickly became sexual which didn't allow us to really get to know each other. I feel like this is why I don't feel fulfilled. I don't have one relationship to look back on that wasn't about our sexual tension. It has never been about two humans who actually like to spend time with each other outside of the bedroom. I crave a relationship like that. A relationship based in personalities and true respect for one another.
Now that I'm realizing this, I want to try it out and see. But alas, nobody interests me enough to test this theory. Thus I feel hopeless. I feel as if my great love will never come riding in on a red line train to 95th. I feel like no one will look at me with the loving eyes I see couples on the train exchange on a daily basis. I feel like my last and greatest love will be based on my ability to suck and jerk. This distresses me and I don't know how to get it out of my head.
So I work hard during the days and cry even harder at night. I throw myself into my work hoping it'll fill me. Classic early 20s? I don't know, I haven't been through them before but I hope they aren't always like this.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Happy Valentine's Day
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you are cuddled up with your honey or sweetheart or pookie bear or whatever obscenity you choose to use. If you don't have any of those, I hope the discount chocolate you're going to buy tomorrow fills that void like you hoped it would. I know later this evening I will be drinking away my loneliness with many other people. As of right now, I want to tell a story of why this is a relatively hard day for me. February 14th, 2014, I kicked David Chase Michaels out of my life. Well, I suppose I decided that a week later but that night was the incident that led to that decision. Let me set the scene.
Weeks before Valentine's Day, we had decided that we were each other's Valentine. He kept asking me what meal I would want along with what drink. We planned to watch a movie and slow dance like a real romantic outing. I was excited for an evening with my best friend but I remember being closed off to any ideas of real romance. I told him we absolutely could not watch When Harry Met Sally. He agreed. We moved away from the idea and continued to be excited.
I arrived at Dave's in the early evening with a chocolate rose in hand expecting chicken and Woodchuck. When I arrived, Dave was not only preparing dinner but he had gotten me flowers, chocolates and a card. He also color coordinated his outfit with the candles and candlesticks. Red and black. My favorites. Knowing Dave didn't like to keep things like cards, I only got him chocolate. No peanuts. We hugged then proceeded to eat the delicious dinner he had made for me. We talked about nothing and everything as we always seemed to do when together. Once dinner had been ingested, we had to go our separate ways to respective shows. Later, he picked me up from my show and we returned to that glorious studio apartment. Upon our return, he turned on Frank Sinatra and we slow danced. I was uncomfortable with this for some reason. I kept making jokes about it and feeling like I couldn't trust him to not touch my butt for some reason. I felt this energy from him I hadn't before. I couldn't really put my finger on it. We finished our dance and began watching our favorite break up movie, 500 Days of Summer. We watched this movie with my commentary of how stupid relationships are and how little I want one. Fun fact: I was lying to myself and him. I wanted love more than anything. This plays a part in the next and final part of this story. During the movie, Dave kept saying that I should stay the night. He said, it was too snowy and he didn't want me to get stuck anywhere that he would have to come get me. I kept saying no, knowing what he actually wanted. He wanted to hold someone on Valentine's Day. He had been single for a couple of months at that time with no hope of another woman in sight. He always called me his #2 when he was dating his long time girlfriend and when they broke up, I was dating other people. Also we were BFF's and I could never imagine us being "together" in any capacity but apparently he did for at least these few seconds. As I was leaving, he slowly closed his eyes and went for the kiss. He didn't just lean in, he was embracing me. I remember that the only words I could utter while pushing him off were "Dave, NO!" Once I got him off of me, I was so infuriated that I yelled, "I'm taking the chocolates!" and slammed the door in his face. I ran down to my car, which was covered in snow, muttering obscenities to myself. How could he do that? I trusted him to be the one guy to never do that to me. I felt so betrayed.
I know now that I over reacted in those moments. He was a better friend to me than anyone had ever been and I turned him away after one mistake on his part. All he wanted was someone to hold that night. He was so lonely at that point in time and I cut off one of the relationships he loved most because I was scared of myself. I didn't know how to work things out and move on. I just thought it had to be over.
About a week later, we met to talk about the incident and I asked him why he did it. He simply replied, "Because I wanted to." At the time, that was not a good enough excuse for me. The trust was officially broken in that moment.
I have realized in the last few months, I was so terribly wrong. If I could go back, I would have stayed with him that night. If I would have known I would never have been able to hug him again, I would have cuddled him all night a year ago. I would have slow danced with him until my legs went numb. I would have kissed him until my lips fell off. I would do anything if it meant we got one more minute together. One more minute to tell him how sorry I am and how much I wish he knew what he meant to me. One more minute to laugh at his jokes and hear him laugh at mine. One more minute of that face, smiling, moving, alive. I would honestly do anything.
But I can't do anything to bring him back so I sit here with my coffee and try to remember the good days when I wasn't being a bitch. I remember the days he took me to the drive in, the days he slept in my apartment, the days I slept in his. I just try to remember how much he loved me. That's all I can do. Especially on a day like this, with haunting memories like that.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Weeks before Valentine's Day, we had decided that we were each other's Valentine. He kept asking me what meal I would want along with what drink. We planned to watch a movie and slow dance like a real romantic outing. I was excited for an evening with my best friend but I remember being closed off to any ideas of real romance. I told him we absolutely could not watch When Harry Met Sally. He agreed. We moved away from the idea and continued to be excited.
I arrived at Dave's in the early evening with a chocolate rose in hand expecting chicken and Woodchuck. When I arrived, Dave was not only preparing dinner but he had gotten me flowers, chocolates and a card. He also color coordinated his outfit with the candles and candlesticks. Red and black. My favorites. Knowing Dave didn't like to keep things like cards, I only got him chocolate. No peanuts. We hugged then proceeded to eat the delicious dinner he had made for me. We talked about nothing and everything as we always seemed to do when together. Once dinner had been ingested, we had to go our separate ways to respective shows. Later, he picked me up from my show and we returned to that glorious studio apartment. Upon our return, he turned on Frank Sinatra and we slow danced. I was uncomfortable with this for some reason. I kept making jokes about it and feeling like I couldn't trust him to not touch my butt for some reason. I felt this energy from him I hadn't before. I couldn't really put my finger on it. We finished our dance and began watching our favorite break up movie, 500 Days of Summer. We watched this movie with my commentary of how stupid relationships are and how little I want one. Fun fact: I was lying to myself and him. I wanted love more than anything. This plays a part in the next and final part of this story. During the movie, Dave kept saying that I should stay the night. He said, it was too snowy and he didn't want me to get stuck anywhere that he would have to come get me. I kept saying no, knowing what he actually wanted. He wanted to hold someone on Valentine's Day. He had been single for a couple of months at that time with no hope of another woman in sight. He always called me his #2 when he was dating his long time girlfriend and when they broke up, I was dating other people. Also we were BFF's and I could never imagine us being "together" in any capacity but apparently he did for at least these few seconds. As I was leaving, he slowly closed his eyes and went for the kiss. He didn't just lean in, he was embracing me. I remember that the only words I could utter while pushing him off were "Dave, NO!" Once I got him off of me, I was so infuriated that I yelled, "I'm taking the chocolates!" and slammed the door in his face. I ran down to my car, which was covered in snow, muttering obscenities to myself. How could he do that? I trusted him to be the one guy to never do that to me. I felt so betrayed.
I know now that I over reacted in those moments. He was a better friend to me than anyone had ever been and I turned him away after one mistake on his part. All he wanted was someone to hold that night. He was so lonely at that point in time and I cut off one of the relationships he loved most because I was scared of myself. I didn't know how to work things out and move on. I just thought it had to be over.
About a week later, we met to talk about the incident and I asked him why he did it. He simply replied, "Because I wanted to." At the time, that was not a good enough excuse for me. The trust was officially broken in that moment.
I have realized in the last few months, I was so terribly wrong. If I could go back, I would have stayed with him that night. If I would have known I would never have been able to hug him again, I would have cuddled him all night a year ago. I would have slow danced with him until my legs went numb. I would have kissed him until my lips fell off. I would do anything if it meant we got one more minute together. One more minute to tell him how sorry I am and how much I wish he knew what he meant to me. One more minute to laugh at his jokes and hear him laugh at mine. One more minute of that face, smiling, moving, alive. I would honestly do anything.
But I can't do anything to bring him back so I sit here with my coffee and try to remember the good days when I wasn't being a bitch. I remember the days he took me to the drive in, the days he slept in my apartment, the days I slept in his. I just try to remember how much he loved me. That's all I can do. Especially on a day like this, with haunting memories like that.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Thank you for listening. Come back for more.
Hello internets. I have a simple message for you today....
Thank you for reading this blog. I know you don't have to but you still choose to take a couple of minutes out of your day to listen to my take on this short life we have. Every time someone tells me they read this blog, I get so embarrassed. How could anyone really care what's coming out of my 20 year old brain? Seriously, there are lists about things only introverts understand to be reading. I only make lists of things that are very personal to me and people still read them. I started this blog as a sort of message in a bottle. I wanted to record my 20's in a way other than just writing in my notebook. I also have this philosophy that if you're brave enough to confront issues in life, like I do on this blog, you owe it to the people who aren't to confront them head on. I never imagined it would come up at parties and in class and such. It has taught me that I am heard. I'm not shouting into oblivion, I'm reaching the brains of my peers. Whether it helps people or it's just light reading that isn't about ISIS, I don't care. I'm just glad it's interesting to some people.
Thank you so much for reading my sad poems and epiphanies. Thank you for following my "love life" and my grieving process. Thank you for sharing your stories with me. Thank you.
Thank you for listening. Come back for more.
Thank you for reading this blog. I know you don't have to but you still choose to take a couple of minutes out of your day to listen to my take on this short life we have. Every time someone tells me they read this blog, I get so embarrassed. How could anyone really care what's coming out of my 20 year old brain? Seriously, there are lists about things only introverts understand to be reading. I only make lists of things that are very personal to me and people still read them. I started this blog as a sort of message in a bottle. I wanted to record my 20's in a way other than just writing in my notebook. I also have this philosophy that if you're brave enough to confront issues in life, like I do on this blog, you owe it to the people who aren't to confront them head on. I never imagined it would come up at parties and in class and such. It has taught me that I am heard. I'm not shouting into oblivion, I'm reaching the brains of my peers. Whether it helps people or it's just light reading that isn't about ISIS, I don't care. I'm just glad it's interesting to some people.
Thank you so much for reading my sad poems and epiphanies. Thank you for following my "love life" and my grieving process. Thank you for sharing your stories with me. Thank you.
Thank you for listening. Come back for more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)