chain stitch

i have spent the entire day sitting at a sewing machine. no, it isn't 1950; i haven't discovered a brand-new suzy homemaker personality under the go-getter attorney. i, because i am far too nice for my own good, apparently, willingly volunteered to help the man's roommate with his halloween group costume magnum opus. you would not BELIEVE how difficult it is to find a red tunic big enough for a former high-school football player. so i said, "no big deal. i'll sew it for you."

ha. great idea, mags. really great. three hours of shopping for notions, during which we all nearly killed each other. two more hours of cutting and measuring. and the piece de resistance: four and a half hours of sewing the damn thing together. actual operation of sewing machine? maybe an hour. MAYBE. the rest of it was spent staring at pieces of cloth, thinking, there is no way in hell that i am this stupid, but how the hell does this piece attach to that one?!?!?!? but at long last, it's done, and not a moment too soon.

i am running on fumes these days. it's shown in my writing, but there are major stresses in my life. i won't even detail the latest blow to my life, because a) it wouldn't be prudent, given the tone things have taken, and b) i don't think there are words to describe how it makes me feel. suffice it to say that, in a few major respects, life could not get a whole lot worse.

now, i say that. but really, that doom and gloom only really covers a couple of parts of my life. it feels huge, overwhelming, but there's a lot of good to be had in my world these days. i mean, i reached my biggest goal: i'm a lawyer. i passed a bar exam. school seems to be going pretty well, though it's stressing me out. (that's the stress i'm used to, though, so i hardly count it as stress.) in a few days, i'll hold up my right hand and affirm to uphold the constitution in my new vocation.

and the biggest reason my life is not taken over completely by darkness? i'm sitting in his room writing this right now. last night was the lowest point in my troubles. i couldn't even pretend. he asked me, "are you okay?" all i could do was shake my head. but he insisted on sitting next to me, kissing my shoulder, talking me down. he would not rest until he was sure i was going to be okay, at least in the short term. i said, "thank you for listening." he said, "it's my job, and it has been for a long time." he's right about that, too.

we're stitched together, he and i, in a lot of ways. i suppose we always have been. but now more than ever, those threads are so vital to my sanity. his loyalty and his dedication to me have been among the few constants of my life. now that he's more to me than he ever has been, they've taken on a new meaning. i need him as much as i love him, i want him, i enjoy him. and he's more than willing to stay with me. the ties that bind us hold more than a relationship together. they hold the pieces of my heart together. i couldn't trust him with that job more.

cheap reward

"oh, i was trying to get away from the things that i always do..."
in case you missed the point of why you don't live here anymore, i'll state it again. see, you're emblematic of a pattern in my life that was, well, completely destructive. i went into things trying to remake myself in an image that you'd enjoy. sure it was stupid, but that's the way it is. too late to go back and do something about it. so i admitted i was wrong and cut the cord. but you're angry at me for realizing how wrong i was. nothing that can be done about that, either, i suppose. but my god, it's like you've gone out of your way to lash out at me every way you can. keep proving me right, my dear.

"all the sign posts on this road, they point one way."
i did my level best to make this civil. i suppose niceties were too much to hope for between us, especially when you seem so hellbent on making me feel just as bad as you do. well, i'm sorry you're hurting. i really am. that wasn't the point of all of this. but all the kindness i try to show you just ends up backfiring. that's frustrating as hell. the decline of our interactions breaks my heart.

"i'll turn the light out now, 'cause there's nothing more to say, and it's all been lost before, so there's nothing to lose..."
i think the worst part of all of this is that we used to be able to talk. that's how all this started; we talked for HOURS that first night. now, we can't even talk about anything without things escalating, getting all emotional, getting heated. it's painful. it's becoming increasingly apparent to me that all that we worked so long to build has been decimated, and further that there won't be something tenable to replace it. it's as over as it can be. and it's nothing short of unbelievable that this has happened. i tried. i failed. there's nothing more i can do, and honestly, there's nothing more i want to do. you don't want to maintain a relationship with me. i don't want to beat my head against the wall. there's nothing more to say besides the wind-up.

"lip service, that's all you'll ever get from me. how could you believe i'd take you seriously, with your cheap rewards, your blackmail, and your comical rage?"
and that means you get a version of me that you know full well isn't real. you used to know who i was. but thanks to the way you've let things devolve, you don't anymore. i've changed. you don't get to appreciate it. it's not like i didn't try. but it's all for naught, now. so you get the shell of me, the outer armor i've been forced to develop around you. i can't take this situation any other way. you lash out at me, you twist the things i say, you try to make me hurt the way you do. sorry. i don't believe in your act anymore. i can't do it. i am ready to move on.

"just remember: you'll only be the boss so long as you pay my wage." 
but it's not quite that easy. we're totally entwined financially, and it's just going to take time to get everything split up. until the time i don't need you anymore, i'm going to have to deal with it. but when i don't need you anymore, you'll still have your hooks in me, for a long, long time. i agree to this. i accept it. better than ezra once sang, "hope i never see the price of my freedom." yeah, turns out i will see the price. i'll see it until you're forty years old. but if that's what it takes, so freaking be it. and this is how it ends - writing checks, signing papers, and hardening my heart against you. that is so incredibly tragic, and in spite of my best efforts, that's just the way it has to be.

blood oath

i had a rough, rough night last night. it came out of nowhere. quite literally, as i lay there in the man's arms, something felt funny. as soon as i could, i got up and... oh, i'll spare you the details. suffice it to say that there was suddenly, with no reason, quite a bit of blood. not ambulance-level, but a lot. i came back to bed, and i told him what had happened.

there are a number of reasons why this could have happened, but there's one in particular that it could be that led us to face a very sobering reality. so we talked. we hashed out the what-ifs, our plans, our fears and our dreams. and the conversation took turns i didn't see, i didn't like and i didn't want. the same is definitely true for him. but we looked at each other and we faced all the struggles, all the fears, head-on. in the end, with his arms wrapped around me tight, i felt every last word he's said to me renew themselves over and over again.

sometimes the things you have to fight for aren't just little. sometimes the struggles are large, frightening, complex. but when you face them down, pledged to each other, and you work it out together, that's when you know what you've got. and i have more than i could ever have imagined.

oh, and a small life update.

it happened. after all that work, that insane summer, and the longest two days of my life, i passed the virginia bar exam. i'm a lawyer, kids.

thanks so much for all the good vibes, encouragement and other nice comments through it all, my internet- and real life-based buddies. it means the world to me. :)

needful things

i am a low-maintenance chick, as these things go. not that i'm a doormat or anything. i just don't require a whole lot of relationship upkeep. i'm pretty easy. i'm not a princessy kind of girl who needs expensive dates all the time. i don't keep the man from his friends, insisting that he accompany me on errands or all those other things that TV tells me women are supposed to do to men. i don't criticize his clothing choices (out loud, even when i want to, and believe you me, there are times when he has it coming). i pretty much give him latitude.

i have some non-negotiable requirements, though. they're small, but they are 100% locked-in and necessary. you can't avoid them. you need to be good to me. you need to support me. and for the love of all things sacred and holy, you have to make an effort to make room for me in your life. that's just not something that can be bargained away. it's just not an option. if you want the benefits that come with being with me, you have to cede a little bit of your independence and, every so often, try for me.

thankfully, so far, the man seems to understand this. he may be a loner, but he's made some room for me. it's not an easy task for him. i know why it isn't. it's not like i haven't seen this movie; i've known him for his entire dating life, seen him with each and every one of his girlfriends. i know what it's been like in the past. but it's my turn now. those girls had different needs from me, needs that were in some ways more petty than mine and in others way deeper than i could ever address. but he's been so good for all our lives at silently being there for me. will my lone wolf be able to give what a man has to give me to satisfy me emotionally? that will be the challenge. he's been amazing so far. let's see if he can make the jump.

dads say the darnedest things

oh, for the love of all things sacred and holy [that i don't believe in].

i am a daddy's girl, even at age 29. i always have been, i always will be. but it's funny how the relationship changes as you move from child to teenager to adult. of late, i find myself the solid and responsible voice of reason in the daddy-daughter dynamic. and for my long-time readers, y'all should know just how crazy that really is. take tonight, for example. i'm here on the eve of a huge final exam, and as a study break, i decided to go with my folks to dinner and to a show here in the beautiful metro area. you'd think that a man twice my age would be acceptable company in a public, social situation. and you'd be wrong. perhaps the problem here wasn't so much my dad, who is a warm, funny and gracious man. it's a two-pronged issue.

first of all, daddy is a proud subscriber to esquire magazine. he has been for, like, 35 or 40 years at this point. (i am, too, actually. that's a damn smart magazine.) they had a list a few months back that described one thing a man should do in each year of his life. the list stopped at age 58 (the age my lovin' daddy is now), with this last piece of advice: "you've made it this long; you can do basically whatever the hell you want now." greeeeat. that's exactly the wrong thing to tell daddy, and he's taken it to heart. the filter is gone. any semblance of social graces is gone. it's daddy, uncensored.

oh, and the whole "daddy getting high before going out" thing does no one any favors.

sigh. i mean, i can't claim 100% innocence; i've been known to get ragingly drunk in public and do things like make out with the man in the driveway of a hotel, or roll an ankle and damn near faceplant in the middle of a major street. but when i need to behave, i can behave. it's reaching the point where that's not the case with my dear ol' dad. it's enervating. i find myself wanting to crawl under the dinner table, and WAY worse than i used to be embarrassed when i was a surly teenager. sigh.

i don't WANNA be the grown-up!

middle relief

the man has two roommates. we went to a party last night; i came from my place to head over with them. when i got to their place, i knocked on the door and he answered. i heard the roommate's voice from his office; the man responded, "tell her yourself." o-kay... i walked in and the roommate said, "you know you don't have to knock anymore, right? that just means that one of us has to get up." i chuckled. "okay, hon. just thought it'd be weird to randomly barge into your house without notice." he looked up at me and said, "no, see, you're like a middle reliever now."

wait, what?

"before, you didn't even travel with the team; you just sorta popped up every few weeks, hung out for a few days and left. but now, you're here every weekend, you're in on all the meetings. you're not on the field every day, but it's close enough. so don't knock anymore - just come in."

in a weird, awkward sort of way, that's one of the sweetest things that's ever been said to me.

watershed

at long last, the dam broke.

i've been so together, so possessed of myself. i can handle anything. i laid in the man's bed, showered and ready to go to sleep, but something was wrong. he came in, watched some bad television, then turned out the lights and wrapped his arms around me. it felt so right, and yet the heaviness overtook me. the man noticed, and he slowly teased it out of me.

we talked for a long time about the things that weighed on me. well, i talked; he listened, he comforted. and finally, as i emptied the footlockers i carry around with me, the tears came. i cried, in front of him, for only the second time in our long history together. "i am so sick of losing people," i said to him. he kissed me, held me, soothed me. "i know."

and he does know. that's the secret. he knows so much about me, what i need, what i want, what i'm like (whether i'm owning up to it or not). he embraces it. he's so good to me and so good for me. and when i cry, it's not a problem or a disaster. it's just another wave to ride. he just handles it, the way he handles everything. and though you'd think it would be natural to be so comfortable with a man who's known me for half my life, it took me seeing him in this light to open up and let the walls down. it was a moment in our relationship that changed things. again.

a new beginning, consecrated in tears, a kiss, and a whispered, "i know."

don draper

so yeah, i'm late to the mad men party. sue me; i was in law school and not watching television. but i've picked up the show, as the man loves it. it's vaguely fascinating, though far from my favorite show ever. but the one thing i've picked up from the show, besides SERIOUS clothing lust (oh, for the time when big-busted, curvy women ruled fashion - i had to be born into the skinny-jeans era), is that we seem to be living in the era of the double life.

i saw the ex this weekend. we had a mutual obligation at a social event that required us to play pretend like nothing was nothing. of course it did. he, quite frankly, sucks at this. and let me tell you, there is nothing harder to handle than watching your heartbroken ex watching people get married. tears and tragedy. so cocktail hour came around, and i found myself in the awkward position of being elegantly dressed and standing before a crying man.

so what did i do? i put on the ice-queen front. i modeled perfect behavior for how non-emotionally-wrecked people behave in public. and as we walked back to the party to face our friends (for the last time, in my case), i turned to him and said loudly, "hey, thanks for helping me look for that." yeah, that's right. a cover story. just like on the show, when the woman goes into the man's office (they all do it, so pick your favorite couple), shuts the door, has this deep, meaningful moment, then opens the door and says something like, "i'll get right on that. thank you for your attention."

the good news is that i don't have to do this very much longer. the strain is starting to show. it's hard to be natural in the old mask when the new life is so comfortable, so nice, so... me. don draper chafes in his identity because the lie is so large. i chafe in my old identity because the chains are so heavy. the time is so close, however, to when i can cast the old ways aside and be who i have always been meant to be. i can't wait.

stranglehold

this is supposed to be the season of my liberation. i'm finally supposed to be free. i'm getting the last of my education, i'm in a brand-new relationship, and i'm on my way forward into my new life. but today, after some back-of-the-envelope math, i realized once and for all that my old life is just not going to let me go that easily.

translation: kids, your humble blog proprietor is 110% BROKE.

i've survived on a small amount of money before. hell, that's how i got through undergrad; i scraped by, barely eating anything, and it was fine. but this time, i've had eight years of adult life, which means eight years of adult debt to rack up. my rent and utilities will be covered, as will my phone bill. y'know, the important stuff. but when i was with my ex, we lived like, well, like idiot twenty-somethings, and now i am left holding the bag. i'm sure it shocks none of you that all of this stuff was in my name. boy, is that coming back to haunt me.

this is utterly terrifying. i literally have no idea what to do about this. i'm going to have to have a tough talk with my ex about giving me more money this year. that much is true. he's going to push back. i know it. it's going to be EXCRUCIATING. but more immediately, i'm going to have to figure out a way to get by. i have a very small amount of property to sell. i'm still waiting for my deposit check back from my old landlord (and i'm about to get REALLY ornery over it, too). but that's not going to help that much. i'm looking for work right now, which i think is a really scary proposition given how hard this program is, but i don't think i have a choice right now.

it'll be OK in the long run. i'll get through this one way or another. but that doesn't make this moment any less terrifying. the noose is around my neck. it's going to take some quick thinking to get it off. and in the meantime, the stranglehold gets a little bit tighter every second.

go get it

it's october already. holy hell. i have an exam in 11 days. (gaaaaah.) there's much to do in the next few weeks, and not all of it is academic. i mean, there will come a day when this professional student gig comes to an end and i begin to justify the mortgage i've taken out on my brain. so today i polished up the ol' resume, wrote some cover letters, jumped through some hoops and started applying to jobs.

i don't know if y'all are followers of current events, but you may have noticed we're in a teeny bit of an economic tailspin of totally biblical proportions. i have managed to time my graduation from all three of my post-high-school degree programs to coincide with just awful financial conditions. hell, i graduated from undergrad as part of the first post-9/11 class. 2010 was the year the legal industry as we knew it imploded, and while things seem more stable now, they've stabilized at a pretty bad level. used to be, and not that long ago at that, a law degree was a sure-bet ticket to a stable and comfortable life. there are too many of us out there with JDs now, and there are way, way too few jobs. it's pretty scary, especially when i think about the debt i've taken on to get my education.

damn it all, i went to law school because i like studying law. i liked being a summer law clerk, too. i like what i've observed of the practice. i truly believe in the goodness lawyers can do in this culture. (not a fan of lawyer jokes - just putting that out there.) i'm just getting a little nervous that the combination of a bad economy and a glut of people chasing paychecks will keep me from doing what i always wanted to do.

so here i go into the breach. i'm papering the universe with my resume: government gigs, judicial clerkships, etc., etc., etc. in 15 days, i'll know whether i passed the virginia bar exam. (unless someone calls the office to ask about results. sigh.) what i want is simple: i want my LL.M. i want to practice law. i want to earn a good living doing good work. and i will do EVERYTHING in my power to get it. i say this a lot, but i am on the verge of having every part of my life lined up and going well. it's time to go to work to make sure that stays true.

let's go get it.

universal truth

a few months back, i got some news that triggered this rant. (me? ranting? i know, right? shocking.) the prognosis was bad, and it made me scared, angry and frustrated. but every story has an ending, and this time, the forces of good are winning out. the affable-but-worthless fiance became the affable-and-trying husband. and somehow, some way, my kid cousin and her baby girl beat the odds today. the birth went down, and everyone's okay so far.

i've been vaguely terrified about what would happen ever since i found out about this. i mean, the rationalist, the logical thinker, looks at something like this and thinks, yeah, i have a bad, bad feeling about all of this. there's no way this will end well. and yet, here we are. i'm so incredibly relieved that the kids pulled it out. there's still a long row to hoe, and i'm still holding my breath (not to mention that now the kid's going to have to be raised - another story entirely), but the big threat passed over. whew.

i was with the man when i found out about my cousin going to the hospital. he held me, he rubbed my back, and he said, "you have to trust me; it's going to be okay." i said to him, because i knew he would understand this statement, "it's times like these when it's hard to be an atheist." i don't mean it's difficult to retain my lack of belief in the face of things like this. it's literally challenging to be faced with something this potentially tragic and to know that there's nothing you can do except hope for the best. my family, of course, will point to this all as a clear example of the intercession of a higher power. and i even succumbed to the temptation of seeking comfort in the non-existent by asking my religious friends to pray for her. i felt like i had to do SOMETHING, being a thousand miles away with no ability to do anything anyway.

but even that request made me feel like a sellout. i mean, why would prayers from others matter? it's all steps in a dance that's performed to music i just can't hear. it's comforting, i guess, to think that prayer, faith, etc. has any effect on what happens in this world. and it's a "comfort" i will never be able to experience. that's why it's hard to face things like this: there's no comfort found in it, just the cold realization that there's nothing you can do but hope for the best and prepare for the worst. all the beautiful words and heartfelt sentiment in the world can't change that. that's the universal truth.

shameless self-promotion, the sequel

today, i have a guest post over at the hindsight letters, a fabulous blog that you should all be reading. the concept alone is amazing: grown you writes back to teenage you, reflecting on a key decision that had a deep impact on your life.

as for mine... well. let's just say that things have changed since i composed this one. let me know what you think...

comfort food

oh, what a weekend for a louisiana-centric sports fan like myself. ooh, the stress that my alma mater and my beloved saints gave me. the only happy, and i use the term loosely, sports fan in my life today is the man, whose giants won the division. ugh. drama and more drama.

i salved my jangled nerves as i sometimes do. no, not with wine, though that's a good guess. i chose to make things better by pulling together one of my all-time favorite emotional tonics - red beans and rice. oh, man, there's nothing finer to ease my mind. back down south, you can get the beans in cans; all you have to do is make rice and nuke the beans. hell, if you're a hopeless slack-ass, you can even use instant rice (though i find that stuff a sin). here in the heathen mid-atlantic, though, it's an all-day affair. four hours of cooking and prep time, once it's all said and done.

sundays are for cooking large meals at the man's house, sharing my bounty with his friends and generally flexing my domestic goddess muscles. i get a huge charge out of it; they gush, i get proud. but this time, there was a level of emotional balm to the act of chopping, boiling and serving. when i'm stressed, as i usually am, i find release in things like cooking, cross-stitch, and really out-of-character traditional "womanly arts." there's a level of traditionalism to this relationship that i never saw coming. doors are held. drinks are purchased. i cook meals; he takes out trash. it's surprising, and what's even more surprising is how comforting i find this dynamic.

living in this new reality is comfort food for my tortured soul. whatever the source of the torture, this new relationship soothes me. there's love, companionship... there's everything i never knew i needed. i get to be exactly what and who i am, no questions. if i want to be suzie homemaker, i can. if i want to yell at les miles for ANOTHER STUPID CLOCK MANAGEMENT DEBACLE, i can. there's room. and there's no greater comfort than that.

still of the night

heavens preserve us, folks: the man has a cold.

this is not going to be one of those "OMG, men are SOOOO pathetic when they're sick, hee hee!" rants. the man is a stoic, pretty much all the time (except when we're alone). he bears his various crosses with a quiet resolve that i envy on basically an hourly basis. but even that stoicism can be a pain, especially when I show up all dressed to kill to go out, take one look at him, and realize, well, this was totally not necessary. sigh.

the upshot of this situation is that i got to fall into bed with him early and rest up. so that's what we did. we both needed the rest, so i drifted off early (for us, anyway) all wrapped up with my nyquil-dosed man. but a funny thing happened at one point. i woke up for a moment after a particularly odd dream (i mean, what girl doesn't dream of spending extended periods of time with rex ryan?), stirring in the darkness. he tightened his arms around me and kissed me on the shoulder. mmm. soothing. i settled back down, and just before i fully fell back to sleep, i felt his breath against me, whispering one small sentence in my ear.

"glad you're here."

the stoic reveals his heart in the subtlest of ways, when the risk is low and the reward is high. not that the man is cold; quite the contrary. he's physically demonstrative, supportive and loyal. but he's just not a talker. well, until now. at a vulnerable moment, when all he wanted was a little comfort, he got it. and he thanked me for it the best way he could: with a three-word summation of the love between us, whispered gently in the still of the night. i couldn't ask for anything more.

the difficult kind

the weather has finally broken. the air's been pregnant with moisture for days, just waiting to burst forth and drench us all. thankfully, this all occurred after i got home with my groceries and my 50-pound school bag. but more importantly, my mood has broken along with the storm outside. the leaden feeling in my chest, the numbness that enveloped me, has been replaced with something lighter, more encouraging. about damn time, too.

there's a tinge of reborn confidence in this new emotional state. i'm starting to internalize the good parts of the changes in my life, and not in a fleeting "thank god it's over!" kind of way. yeah, this process, now that it's real, is harrowing and painful. things will be said that hurt me more than i could imagine, but that's the only bullet he has left. but i know i'm already better for standing up and cutting the cord. i've owned up to my mistake. i've offered my mea culpa, too. that's all i can do. now the growth, the working on me, begins in earnest.

no one ever said this would be easy. i'm finding out just how hard it is, actually. loving and losing in such a spectacularly devastating fashion has made me someone different than i was before. but it's bringing out the good in me, in a way that's far more authentic than clinging to a glittering charade. it's just a shame that i can't share the change with him. if he could only see what love has made of me, but i'll no longer be in his life. what he'll remember of me, well, it almost makes me cry. but that's how it happens, i guess. that's the fallout, and that's his loss. the lessons of this will be well appreciated in those who stick around.

and you won't see the good in me. but, babe, i've changed.

heavy cloud, no rain

i haven't seen the sun since this weekend. whenever i've been out among the living, it's been heavily gray and dismal outside. that's been nice for the temperature; for those of us who walk everywhere we go, it's a welcome change from hot and humid. however, it's also an accurate reflection of my mood, and the cloud gets heavier as the days go by.

part of my come-to-jesus moment with the man sunday night involved the fact that i don't like to entangle the past with the present. i would much rather concentrate on moving forward. it's irritating to me that i'm as upset as i am over all of this, and it's infuriating that i can't keep a lid on it in his company. he doesn't deserve to have to pick up the pieces from someone else's destruction. but he insisted that i allow myself to feel whatever it is i'm feeling, whether or not he's there.

so i'm feeling it. and it's pretty damned rotten. as happy as i can be in the moment, and there's a lot to be happy about, my general head state is full of anger, sadness and fear. compound that with a double-barreled dose of just horrific circumstances in the lives of people i know, and that's a recipe for not wanting to leave my bed. but i do. i go out into the world and pretend like i'm 100% okay, laughing and joking with my friends. then the night ends, i come in and i close the door. that's when i drop the pretense, open the floodgates and just let it all come out.

relatively speaking, anyway. for the last two years, i've spent so much time acting like nothing was wrong that i think i've forgotten how to express emotion in any real way. i said in the moment that all i wanted to do was develop the ability not to give a damn. i did, but i think i've overachieved. when i admit to myself how upset i am, all i can do is conjure up this generically dull ache. it kills my focus, magnifies any physical pain and knocks me flat on my back. i am unable to do anything more than stare at the computer screen or the TV, taking in whatever is in front of me with no analysis or thought of any kind. i feel, but i can't process.

this kills me. it makes me want to do something - ANYTHING - to work out the pain. i thought i was past this sort of reaction. like every thinking person, i've had my bouts with depression, with serious mental issues. i feel myself creeping towards that place again. over my dead body will i let that happen again. so i'll put on my helmet in the morning, go back out there and show the world how strong i am. and i'll do my damnedest to find a good way to process this. it won't beat me. i won't let it.

clouds eventually blow away.

false dichotomy

i'm home, in bed, showered and ready to get some rest after a long and protracted weekend. and what a weekend it was, too. so many events, so many ups and downs. i thought i was done being two-faced; i had one more shot at the double life, though, and boy, was it one for the ages.

don't mistake me; it's trying as anything to put that old, tired costume on one last time. it was a long and arduous weekend, filled to the brim with emotional land mines. my heart was scarred, my perceptions were changed. the wounds i sustained hurt so deeply that they took my breath away. but the business of friday and saturday made it, strangely, easier to hide the cuts and bruises on my heart and soul. i was able to float through the role, following the playbook when no one else did (damn it, i said trips gun RIGHT; you're all going LEFT). i drank my wine and let the stress float to the back of my mind. i said my goodbyes, gathered my things and got in the cab.

as i slammed the door behind me and we sped back to the suburbs, i flipped the switch, threw off the mask, and stepped into the warm embrace of the life i choose, the life i love. and just like that, it was all made okay again. i took off the costume and became myself again. as saturday became sunday, the man took over, soothing me, loving me, making me remember why i've done what i've done.

with his arms around me, feeling the stillness of his breath against my neck as he slept, i finally succumbed to the pain of the weekend. the cuts bled, the bruises throbbed, and the tears flowed. i may seem made of stone, but even stone can break. sunday dawned cold and gray, the perfect mirror of my mood. i had to do a little more acting, but for once, i couldn't draw my audience into the illusion. he brought me to his room sunday night, looked me in the eye, and demanded my honesty. he got it, too. and again, he delivered nothing more than absolutely the proper reaction. he stilled the swirling confusion and hurt, replacing it with measured sanity and calm affirmation.

i no longer lead a double life. the break isn't clean; far from it. but the stark, unrelenting split of circumstance in this weekend proved what a false dichotomy my supposedly bisected life was, even in the days before i pulled the trigger. sure, there were two sets of events. but what i've seen in the last 96 hours is that the choice was never really a choice. there was only one path. and from this day forward, i will only have to walk that road.

it feels inviting. i can't wait to see where it goes.

god of love, hear our prayer

standing still for this is such an exquisite form of torture. how is it possible to feel pride, happiness, contempt and shame for a situation all at once? i will never understand how a few platitudes, heavily scripted in the name of spectacle and braggadocio, can stir such deep emotional currents. but here we are. the atheist, the whore, the charlatan, standing here in perfect character as a good upstanding woman of faith and charity. "god of love, hear our prayer." warm words of christian fellowship. touching.

i know how to wear the costume, the mask. i hit my marks perfectly, learn every line and recite them with a smile. i make this look good, too. but that's the fun of it, even though it kills me. i love knowing what no one else knows - while you stand here offering your blessing, showering godly praise on the happy family fabric woven before you, i am the agent of chaos. i stand in the midst of the fabric, slowly pulling threads at my whim and caprice. i am so far above all of this, and you'll never know.

that is, until the charade finally collapses, once and for all. my life is so beyond your traditional conceptions of reality. i want nothing more than to stand in the rubble and laugh at your woeful underestimation of my ruthless efficiency.

god of chaos, hear my prayer.

small world

i live in a major city. there are millions of people in the national capital area. i can walk the streets here, pass hundreds of people while winding my way through the metro system, and never see anyone familiar. it's an interesting feeling; a lot of times, it lets me be totally alone with my thoughts, anonymous and cloistered while in the midst of teeming life. it's, honestly, one of my favorite things about living here at this phase of my life.

but sometimes, way more than you'd ever expect, this is the smallest town ever. tonight, i discovered that a professor of mine grew up in my home state, and his niece and nephew are friends with a girl who was in the mock-congress program in which i met the man. the professor was familiar with all of my K-12 schools, knew people i knew. this sort of thing isn't supposed to happen in a place like this, and yet, it does. this isn't the first time, either; a woman in my program grew up with the woman who married my high-school boyfriend. that's crazy.

i guess, in a way, there's something warm and comfortable in these small moments. it reminds me that there's connection in this world. and really, i'm going to (god willing and the creek don't rise) be a real-life lawyer in a little less than a month; if there's a profession on this earth that depends more on making connections, short of high-pressure sales, i don't know of it. but at the same time, it's just ever so slightly, well, creepy. how am i supposed to be autonomous when these threads to the past keep popping up everywhere? maybe it's nothing. maybe i'm just paranoid. maybe i'm not treating these little coincidences as the fun things to laugh over that i should.

but if my world is really that small, how the hell can i grow?