friday night lights

a few weeks ago, i got suckered - er, invited to watch friday night lights with the man. i know that tons upon tons of people just love them some of this show. i'm totally OK with that, too... for them. to me, it's just a complete and total boy soap opera. (and boy, does the man get ornery when i call it that.) it's a melodrama with football inserted to divert from the fact that it's a melodrama. but that's not really what i wanted to get into. he and i watched the series finale together right before he left. i was more than a little emotional over the increasingly taxing events of february 2011, and without getting into details (because unless you have direcTV, you have not seen anything of the fifth season of the show), the finale of this show may as well have been called let's see how many mags-specific emotional triggers we can cram into one episode of a football-themed melodramatic boy soap opera. just one after another, with no mercy whatsoever. i bore up as best as i could, i really did...

and then it happened. i found myself sitting in a chair in the man's media room with tears silently streaming down my face, unable to stop. when he noticed, he immediately insisted that we stop what we were doing and talk about what in the name of all things holy could possibly have been bothering me. (had to have scared the hell out of him - in all the time he's known me, i had never, EVER done anything like that in his presence.) we went upstairs and shut the door to his bedroom, at which point i sobbed like i never had before.

once i got it out of my system, i looked up at my worried boyfriend and started talking. [and i mean this: if you really don't want to know what happens at the end of friday night lights, stop reading now. i can't dodge spoilers anymore.]

the one thing i've read about the show that i think is true, and highly complementary, is that it's one of the more honest depictions of marriage out there on television. and at the end, there are marriages starting and thriving, relationships ending, and people sharing and sacrificing for one another. there are poignant shots of women's wedding jewelry, meant to memorialize this emotional heavy lifting. and at the sight of the woman's wedding ring passing to the daughter's engagement ring, it drove the point home that, hey, girl, you FAILED at this. BIG TIME. i just sat there watching this, hearing the word failure over and over again in my head, and i just couldn't take it. good christ. how much of my past is going to bleed into my future? how do i know, how could i ever know, if i will let the man down the way i failed my last marriage? am i ever going to be good at this, good for him, again, or am i just locked into being a bad wife, a bad partner? this is the speech that came tumbling out of me amid the sobs, spoken into this poor man's shoulder, who really just wanted to watch how his show came out in the end.

he lifted up my head, looked me square in the eye and said, darlin', you really, really need to stop beating yourself up over this. he told me how it wasn't just me, how both sides failed at the old relationship, just like all failed relationships, and how i needed to learn how to forgive myself for the sins of the past and go forward. but i pulled the trigger, i told him. yeah, you did. but he loaded the gun. and just like that, it hit me: yeah, he's right about that. i did some things i wasn't proud of. i gave up on my ex long before i left him. i checked out years ago. but i didn't do these things in a vacuum. if things had been right, i wouldn't have gone down that road.

so the clouds lifted. i felt a little better. (and the man finished the show. he was satisfied with the ending. good for him.) and a boy soap opera gave me more clarity than i ever could have imagine.

congratulations?

it's such a strange thing. as i go through the administrative changes related to my new-old name, my new-old identity. every time i sign a paper, visit an office or chat with a clerk, the conversation ends with one word that increasingly strikes me as a strange reaction to the nature of the business at hand:

"congratulations!"

now, don't get me wrong. having this done is certainly something worth celebrating. i am thrilled to the gills to be on my way to resetting my life. but, really, isn't that such a weird thing to say to someone? it's not like this is such a pleasant undertaking. the end of a marriage is never pretty. it's rough around the edges at best and harrowing, bloody, acrimonious at worst.

but then again, maybe it's not so weird. on louis c.k.'s fabulous new album hilarious, there's a routine about his recent divorce that made me laugh way harder than i thought i ever would. first off, the man is absolutely killer funny. but more importantly, he said perhaps the most bluntly true thing i've ever heard in my life, and it was just what i needed at that moment: "divorce is always good news. i know that sounds weird, but it's true, because no good marriage has ever ended in divorce. it's really that simple."

holy hell, talk about finding wisdom in unexpected places. the reason i am no longer married to the ex is because our marriage was bad. bing, bang, boom. the event hurts, it feels awful. but i am in so much of a better place than i was one year ago today. i feel free. i'm happy as hell, right down in my core, the short-term pain of recent events notwithstanding. the divorce, really, was good news.

so yeah, clerks/registrars/assorted other government-agency minion people. congratulations it is.

circles

the circle is the ultimate symbol in our culture, isn't it? completeness. union. that's why rings mean so much. class rings. promise rings. purity rings (well, if you're into that whole creepy "my daughter's virginity is a commodity that belongs to me, and i'll decide who gets it, thanks" thing).

engagement rings. wedding rings.

after some ugly and protracted negotiations, documents are signed, agreements have been made, and the cords binding me to the old life are nearly severed. it was strangely... calming. i mean, it's been pleasant to deal with him, now that the yelling has stopped. all that's left now is the small stuff: sorting possessions and deciding who gets the little things. DVDs, cookbooks, silverware, etc. but one thing he asked for, and the one thing that i was simultaneously happy and heartbroken to hand over, was my wedding jewelry. hell, he bought it; it belongs to him. the diamond came from his family.

but the experience of handing those rings back to him, even done as cavalierly as i did (in a parking lot, on my way back to the train, on my way to make a filing deadline), was... surreal. it cut me back instantly to that day in july when he handed them to me first. how young. how giddy. how... yeah. the courts have a little more business with us before it's all said and done - name change order, etc. - but the end came today, in that moment.

that circle is closed, all right; it's closed to both of us. the two are now one and one again. what was joined together, we have violently torn asunder. so much for that. it's the right thing; we weren't good anymore in that way. but i'll tell you this much: as angry as i've been, as sure as i am about the course my life is taking, and as hurt as we've made each other, i don't want to give up on him as a part of my life. he's woven into me, and there will never be a way to undo that. in time, once the scabs have formed, faded and healed, we can see each other and smile.

there won't be a ring, but there will be a circle.

that joke isn't funny anymore

gallows humor is one of my favorite survival tactics. it's funny, if you think about it: i don't like to be teased about little things (i.e., my insane clumsiness), but the big things lead me to be viciously, bitterly comedic. it's received differently, depending on my audience. it's one of the things the ex used to do well, actually. he understood the need for me to vent more than, really, anyone else in my life has.

i don't always judge my audience well. it's a flaw i have. i have sometimes gotten myself in trouble with making a dark, angry joke that wasn't received in the spirit in which it was intended. see also last night. we went out in the world, an attempt for me to slowly ease myself back into normality after my little... episode. but when you've sworn off alcohol to maintain your sanity, there's just not a lot to do past 1:00 in the morning. i mentioned to the man that, since there was nothing left that was permissible, we should just head back to the car. and then i made the joke. something small, based on something i thought he'd said the other night. a little lighthearted treatment of my self-imposed sobriety, a little gentle tease.

suffice it to say that the mark was missed. BADLY. he got angry, offended. i was absolutely stunned. i apologized, and we walked in silence. we then drove in silence all the way back home, and the longer i sat, the more confused and angry i got. what the hell is this about? i can't joke about my life? i waited until we got inside, then i chose a mature and reasoned response: "what just happened?" i was legitimately, completely lost as to how things devolved.

well, turns out that he and i have the exact opposite approaches to crisis-time humor. it also turns out that the little joke i thought he'd made - which i'd enjoyed, which took the edge off and made me feel a little lighter in some very dark moments - was me mishearing a serious affirmation of his belief in me. he takes his responsibility to me very, very seriously, and he does not find a drop of humor in anything that's happened. i would never joke about that. it's not funny. it's not right.

it's no longer just about me and my strategy. i have considerations. this is what it's like to totally let him in, to show him the worst of me: i have to be prepared for his reactions. i've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine. so since it's too close to home, and it's too near the bone, i'm going to let the jokes go. they're just not funny anymore.

nothing at all

my romantic history being what it is, i've never had the privilege of transitioning between long-term serious relationships before. prior to the ex, i only had small, short flings. my longest-lived dating experience before him was three months long. before that, it was seven weeks. i wasn't a "dater" in high school, and then i launched headlong into the whole ex thing.

so it's a learning curve of, frankly, biblical proportions these days. this is something that most people figure out in their early 20s, i think, the renegotiation of expectations, of behavior, etc. enter the man, who is a very different kind of guy from the ex. that is a wonderful thing on a lot of levels, but it poses a new challenge for me. i have to learn to read, to understand, to know what's being shown to me by my new love. it's not always easy.

i am accustomed to hearing a lot from the man in my life. i got really damn used to hearing "i love you" as often as i wanted. more so, really. and no matter what happened at the end, it was always nice, ALWAYS, to hear that. i got to a point where i craved it. now i've moved forward, into a new place, but the old habits have died hard. i want to hear it now, even still. but as demonstrative as the man is, and he is distinctly that, he just doesn't speak those words. i find myself applying the rules of the old game to the rubric of the new one. that just doesn't work. it's not even close to the same situation, and it's not fair to hold him to the old expectations.

getting frustrated by that old expectation also gives short shrift to the amazing things the man does for me, too. leaving all fairness aside, it's stupid as hell to get so hung up on one little thing that's "lacking," when really, there's nothing missing at all. it's a difference in expression. the ex talked. the man does. that's all. he really does say it best when he says nothing at all; the words are unnecessary. the quicker i learn that, the better state of mind i'll be in, and the closer to really appreciating the amazing thing i have in him.

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.

my apology

[your soundtrack]

"it’s not the way that i intended this; i didn’t realize how much i would miss, but with every parting of our company i hate to think what it has done to me..."

you're never far from my mind, you know, no matter how good i am at keeping you at bay. (you weren't wrong about the arm's-length treatment; it's a very good coping mechanism.) i do not have a single regret about this course of action. it's the best thing for both of us, it's what i want, and it's what i need. but that doesn't mean that it's not sad, way sadder than i ever imagined, to see this day finally arrive. not that you'd know how i feel today if you look at me. i'm really skilled at moving forward when i have to, and this is one of those times. but there's a small frayed place in my soul, torn a little more each time, that belongs to you and will forever.
 

"when cruelty comes with blind indifference, my humanity becomes the best defense. but when you consider the alternative, i really didn't have that much to give..." 

that's the crux of all this where you and i are concerned, i think. i didn't try to be cruel or indifferent to your needs in pursuing mine; i am trying desperately to maintain things as well as i can, but in being true to my humanity, i've inadvertently destroyed yours. sigh. at the end of the day, as it turns out, you were better at being a part of this relationship than i was. i gave you as much as i had to give you. looks like it wasn't what even i thought it would be. i failed at the modest task which was my charge, and that was simply being enough of a selfless person to make room for your flaws. 

"a tragic victim of my circumstance; never give the devil a second chance. if you do, you know that you can never win - probably best to forget and begin again..."

so here we are. we lost. fitting that all of this comes to an end this week, so many years after we pledged ourselves to each other in the sorrow and confusion of the falling of the towers. we clung to each other in the wake of the madness, when everything permanent was stripped down to its skeletal remains and the harsh reality of the loss we faced collided with our adolescent immortality. funny how that's not really a great way to build a future, isn't it. i dedicated myself to you with passion, intensity and a total lack of thought. that's the real reason we lost. there's nothing to be gained from clinging to scraps. time to box up the memories, the laughs, the ups, the downs and put them in the back of the closet, to be looked through on the occasional rainy day with something approaching warm nostalgia. the bitter will slowly leach out of the sweet. at least, that's my hope. 

consider this a statement of, not conciliation, but sorrow. i didn't want this to be the way things ended. hell, up until recently, i didn't think there would be an end. but here we are. we've reached the conclusion. and for everything i've done, and god knows i've done a lot, i'm sorry. i let you down. there's no way to recover from it, either. all i can do is give you this.

"can’t you see that I am sorry? this has to be my apology, my apology, my apology."

out to stud

i sat on the edge of his bed and chatted blithely with him until he was awake enough to drive me home. i would've walked, but it's too damn hot, and besides, he offered. usually, these moments are shot through with some form of wanting, hoping, wishing he'd see more to me than he does. not this time. i just took him for what he is for once in my life: the friend who knows my ins and outs, who respects me and cares for me the best way he knows how.

racing animals have short careers. elite racehorses are put out to stud shortly after their fourth birthdays. why? because it's tiring beyond belief chasing a nearly unattainable goal. some of these poor animals run themselves into their graves with exhaustion. others retire peacefully. knowing when to say when is the difference between life and death. so i throw up my hands. i'm no longer willing to exhaust myself this way. i've made this declaration before, and i swore i meant it those times, too.

but i sit here tired, pushed to the brink from stresses internal and external. i am at my weakest right now. these are the times when my resolution fails, when i get sad and lonely, when i seek comfort and start imagining a future that will never be as perfect as my mind can create it. even in this weakened state, i think about him and, finally, don't feel that old pinch around my heart. i just don't want to go there. not now. and hopefully that means not ever.

i care so much about him. but he's not for me. i know it intellectually. i think, at LONG last, that's starting to seep into my emotions. i think i've managed to convince my heart to listen to my head. not a moment too soon. i won't chase him anymore. the race is over.

the river

"is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse?"

i'm winding down a fabulous weekend escaping stress by studying constitutional law and watching a bruce springsteen concert film. i have a long and complicated history with the music of bruce springsteen, and during this particular tour, they did an alternate arrangement of the river, one of my favorite songs in the entire catalogue. this line in particular has sneaked up to blindside me from time to time over the last couple of years, as i face a path littered with the shards of broken dreams and a planned future dismantled.

but when i think about it, i'm not sure it's either, really. i mean, i guess i was telling lies when i said i'd never leave, that i'd be there forever. but how was i to know that? somewhere in the tragedy, buried under the piles of regret and the things you swore would never be your reality, is the tiny silver glint of something, well, better. it's hope. it's possibility. it's rebirth. and it's the knowledge that there are just no guarantees. just do the best you can. walk forward. make amends.

you can't be responsible for another person's happiness. all you can do is tend to your own needs and be as kind as you can. it's not a lie if you dream something that can't come to pass. it's just another day.

settle

i am learning, slowly but surely, what works for me and what doesn't. that's my favorite part of this whole process: finally figuring out what i alone need to get by. i'm realizing that it's going to be a rougher year than i may have anticipated. but it's nothing i can't handle. as my plans for the next 12-15 months start to crystallize, i'm learning the difference between managing expectations and settling for less.

for too long, i was all about settling for less. the middle way, the mediocre, the path of least resistance. the dull numbness of the center. i think it's pretty apparent that i have altered that frame of mind. i shook it up big-time by going to school again. now that i've earned that degree and stare down my next challenge, it's uncomfortable. i am damn tired of long days cramming for this stupid test. but the pain of this test, even though it's exquisite and annoying, is so much better than the dullness of showing up for another day at a job that just wasn't getting it done. the financial pinch of the next year will be tight, but it'll also be worth every last bit of the struggle when i am free.

i was told the other night, when i was in the middle of a lament about how much all of this has sucked, that "you are on the verge of getting absolutely everything you have ever wanted." it didn't really sink in at the time, but it's starting to creep in on me. yeah, there will be more pain. but after that, there will be more than i ever could have imagined. so i'll manage expectations. i'll live small.

but i will NEVER settle. never, ever again.

self-evident

it was a splendid weekend in our nation's capital, spent in the company of my favorite people. we drank, we socialized, and we enjoyed each other's company. and it's funny; one of my friends did me the greatest possible favor she could this weekend just by getting drunk with me and asking some questions.

this was not a conversation i necessarily wanted to have, mind you. the things she asked me were things i've kept unspoken and as hidden as possible for years now. but she just wanted to know what was going on, catching up on the situation and confirming some things she'd suspected. and as she asked me these questions, and i answered her, a funny thing happened. i started asking myself some questions about the answers i was giving. i gave her a complete and accurate description of the situation as it actually is (i mean, she guessed a lot of it. it wouldn't have been right to lie), and as i heard myself speak, i thought, you know, the things you're saying to her are true, and they are also completely insane. if you were listening to this, you would take the speaker by the shoulders and shake her, telling her how crazy she is for dealing with this.


the party ended last night, and the hangover with which i greeted today was vicious. but once i got it out of my system and started dressing for the day, i looked at the situation i was in with a new twist. i looked around and said to myself, this has simply got to stop. there's no good that comes from this anymore. and all it took to slap me across the face and wake me the hell up was a couple of awkward questions late at night on the patio of a bar, drinking cheap beer and catching up with friends.

so thanks for the perspective, hon. you've saved me from myself in a way i didn't realize i needed to be saved. certain truths should be self-evident, but when they're not, it's the best service you can give someone to gently point that out.

midpoint

today is july 2. this is the exact, unequivocal middle of the common (non-leap) year. 182 days behind us, 182 days in front of us. this is halftime, kids.

and it is also my birthday.

a lot of other people share this day with me: rene lacoste (the tennis/polo shirt guy), thurgood marshall and medgar evers (civil rights heroes), dave thomas of wendy's, john sununu, larry david, jose canseco, lindsay lohan and johnny weir, among others. it's quite a day. hell, when i was a kid, i used to think of the whole 4th of july thing as a nice big protracted celebration of me and my life. i was truly disappointed when i was told that the fireworks were not for me. (yeah, i'm an only child.) regardless, there's always a party, people are generally in a good mood, and hilarity almost always ensues.

i come to this birthday - 29, the start of my thirtieth year of life - at a weird, unsettled place. i'm in the middle of the biggest ordeal of my professional life in studying for the bar. i'm in the middle of the end of something i expected to have forever. i'm in the middle of, for the first time since i was a teenager, really having to look myself in the eye and say, "okay. now what?" i'm in the middle of, well, the middle. it's mushy, it's unclear, and there's no clear path to a solution anytime soon on a lot of this. all i can do is keep up the slog.

there will be birthdays when things aren't so crazy. it's up to me to rise above the middle-ness of it all and reclaim my day. i stand alone in this moment and say, "yes, it's going to be OK. it's all going to be OK. so let's have a drink and celebrate." that, my friends, is the best gift i give myself this year.

pedestal

i've been thinking a lot about heroes these days. it's a human instinct to look up to people, i think. we all start off, at least on some level, looking up to the people who raise us. in my case, i idolized my daddy as a little girl. even when he got strict and overbearing (in my mind), i still adored him. but then when i got into my teen years and started noticing popular culture and local boys, i picked other admirers. i loved don mattingly (still do), eddie vedder, all those typical early- to mid-90s touchstones. you name the gen-X reference, i ate it up. (ben stiller circa reality bites, looking at you.)

i also started finding boys to admire. i dated some of those boys, stared at others. but a couple in particular took up permanent places in my pantheon. it's a bewitching setup, when you're a smart but naive girl and you first get your hands on intelligent male company. you tend to freeze it in your mind and hold it there, squelching all of its negative sides and shining the brightest light you can find on its positivity. it feels SO good to relate to someone, to be comfortable with someone, that you don't care what's on the other side. sometimes, the other side can cause you serious problems: abuse, violence, psychological degradation. been there. (who hasn't?) but then there's just the fact that sometimes those guys you think are so perfect are just so, so incredibly... human. they aren't the gods you made them out to be. and sometimes that realization is a long time coming.

i've made a few references to dexter lately. i just finished season 1 tonight. (for those who haven't yet, just go watch it. seriously. so smart, so good.) you ever wanted an archetypal antihero? well, you've got one in dexter. he's solid, reliable, and he has a strict set of rules about good and evil. if it wasn't for that whole serial killer thing, he'd be the perfect man. he's up on a pedestal in the lives of a lot of the women in that show, and they have no idea what he's hiding.

funny how it takes an example that ludicrously stark to really make me see what's been in front of me all along. it does people a disservice to worship them, not to mention what it does to you. bring the gods in your life down to the floor and look at them, long and hard, as equals. you'll be surprised what you find. it's not always a bad thing; it may even make you appreciate them more. hell, worked for me.

appomattox

sometimes, in the cold light of morning, you wake up and realize that you've lost. the troops are scattered, the fort is burning, and the cause is gone forever. this is one of those days. i got out of bed with a dull, thudding headache and the weight of the world on my chest. the headache made sense; that's what happens when you drink too much. but the weight? that eluded me for a minute... until i turned around and saw him lying there asleep.

and just like that, there it was. it hit me like a ten-ton truck that there was something so fake about this that it hurt to even see him there. it's not even his fault. he never lied to me, not once. he told me a long time ago what we were doing, and moreover what we weren't doing. i asked him once, "why am i not dateable?" i couldn't stand the ambiguity anymore; i needed him to tell me what was happening. there are obvious logistical reasons, but he's decided that it's just not worth the "risk" to take a chance on me as more than... i don't even know anymore.

and i still spent the entire weekend wanting his company, just to be near him, to the point where i invited him in last night just to sleep next to me. i just wanted him there. then i woke up and saw what i had done. no. unacceptable. i felt so freaking DESPERATE. it's not that he doesn't like me. it's not that we aren't good friends. it's that i keep trying to make something when there's clearly never going to be anything. and the simple reality of that finally sunk in, after all this time. i need to put some space between us for awhile, i think, to make the lesson sink in, but the fact remains that it's finally dawned on me that this is one more thing that i've lost lately. i don't know how much more i can take of this, but if i want to keep someone important to me around, this is a necessary loss.

i get it. finally. i surrender.

one step up

[soundtrack]

"we're the same sad story, that's a fact; one step up and two steps back..."
i know by now that you know. you have the sense that there's something wrong. your voice is hard when we talk. there's distance. you don't call me. the last time i saw you, there was a definite space between us, one that even i felt. frankly, i was surprised at how that space still, somehow, managed to hurt me. just a little, but it definitely hurt, a dull ache deep in my soul, under all the anger, the frustration and the exasperation. sometimes things blow up when they end, loud, ugly confrontations that tear and rip and wake the neighbors. i kinda thought that's how it would go down with us, given how passionate and irrational our relationship has always been. but maybe i miscalculated. maybe this thing will just die quietly, no fanfare, no screaming. just... thud.

"i'm sitting here in this bar tonight, but all i'm thinking is i'm the same old story, same old act..."
i've always thought of myself as special, different, even better than most people. i'm an only child with above-average intelligence, decent looks and a good work ethic, so that gives me a pretty damn good ego. but the older i get, the more i realize that i am not anywhere near as unique as i used to think i was. i am, at my heart, pretty freaking run of the mill. the way i chose to conduct myself at the end of this has been pretty ignominious, to be sure, but it's also been cliched. i pushed you away. i sought refuge in other recreations. i took up drinking, ran the streets with my friends, and basically behaved like an adolescent for most of this. some mature, rational person i am, eh? instead of metaphorically manning up, facing the music and owning it, i just... yeah.

"it's the same thing night on night, who's wrong, baby, who's right. another fight and i slam the door on another battle in our dirty little war..."
we don't fight much. when we do, it's epic. i can be so goddamned vicious when i want to. i cut. i aim low. when i am wounded, i want everyone else around me to feel the pain i do. but that's no way to run a railroad. that's probably the biggest sign that we're doomed: i won't even invest enough of my heart in you anymore to scald you. when i think of you, it hurts my heart, like pushing on a bruise that just won't heal. but there's just no energy to hurt back. none. i just want it to stop. i want the door closed behind me. and i think that's what's going to end up happening, one way or another.

"when i look at myself i don't see the man i wanted to be..."
i fought so hard for this over the years. i changed so much, sacrificed so hard, rearranged the universe in the image i thought would work for us. and look where it got me: sitting here alone tonight, torn of soul and weary of spirit, with my heart pulled in so many different directions i can't stand it. and most of all, i just want to forget i ever met you. i want every single damned reminder of everything we were pushed away, never to be discussed again. i want you locked away. and when i admit that to myself, i feel sleazy, cheap, and most disturbing, like a total failure. i thought i could will this relationship through anything. clearly, i cannot. and my god, that's the worst failure of them all.

"somewhere along the line i stepped off track, one step up and two steps back."

rock star

it's the dream we all have, i think. everyone wants to find their soul mate, the person who takes one look at you and says, "yes. you are perfect just as you are, and i love you more than life itself." and then one day, BAM. there it is. there's that person who sees you, looks you over, and decides that you are everything good and right and true in the world. and because of the strength of that feeling, you find yourself saying the same thing about your lover.

the feeling of being IN LOVE, just gobsmacked out of your mind in infatuation, is so powerful that it can cover a lot of things that really need to be seen. for example, it can pretty much obscure the fact that the scenario i'm describing is not at all a mutual building of trust and respect. it's a squealing teenage pop fan on the occasion of meeting a jonas brother or whatever. that person doesn't see you as a soul mate. you're a rock star. it's a fabulously dizzying level of flattery to be that to someone. the pedestal feels good under your feet; the spotlight warms your skin and makes you look amazing. you can feel the constant waves of adulation wash over you.

but you know, at the end of the day, that one-way street of worship can feel pretty hollow. you look across that table, and what you see is a... sycophant, really. this isn't love. love builds you up, creates a framework for a future. rock-star life doesn't give you that. respect is so, so vital, and when you're the rock star, it is so, so missing. you don't have a respect-based life. you have a charade, a performance, a crystal cage. and there comes a time when the crystal cage has to shatter, once and for all, so that you can brush off the debris, shake off the hangover, take stock of the damage and get yourselves back.

at some point, the house lights come up. the show will eventually be over.

human touch

[your soundtrack for today]

"i ain't looking for your prayers of pity; i ain't comin' 'round searching for a crush..."
you always make things so easy for me. i blow into town every now and again, turn your world upside down for a few days, then disappear. but you never complain. i'm loud, messy and, let's be honest, quite crazy. you spend your money on me, you spend your time on me. i guess you're getting something out of the deal too.

"i just want someone to talk to and a little of that human touch..."
or should i say that i KNOW you're getting something out of the deal. it's the perfect trade-off for a man, i would think: listen to her bitch and act weird for awhile, then take her clothes off. but it's funny; though it sounds totally one-sided (and kinda pathetic, really), i get everything i need from you. i don't need a promise, a vow, some great proclamation of devotion from you. that would actually wreck a really good thing.

"oh girl, that feeling of safety you prize, well, it comes with a hard, hard price..."
this is the devil's bargain i've made. you get your freedom, the most important thing in the world to you. i get just about everything i could want. almost. sometimes the ambiguity tears me up inside. you have this habit of doing things that would, if i didn't know you so well, make it seem like you want more from me. but you don't. i know this. i knew all along that you'd never go there with me in a million years, even though you know i'd cut myself open and bleed for you if you asked me. but you also know that you've got me forever, no matter what.

"you can't shut off the risk and the pain without losing the love that remains..."
so i don't shut it off. i come to this messy, risky adventure with arms wide open. bring it all on; i'm a big girl, i can handle it. i like to let you think i'm tough. i know you know better. but this? oh, this i can tough out for sure. there's enough good here to cancel out the danger, the sleepless nights. at the end of the day, i know where i stand with you. you have your reasons for the way you are. some of them i understand. a lot of them i don't. but just as you take me in spite of my insanity, i take you in spite of your circumspection. that's the way it is.

"you might need someone to hold onto when all the answers, they don't amount to much; somebody that you can just talk to and a little of that human touch..."
so i keep coming back. you do too, for your part. we dance this way time after time, giving everything we have to each other. well, almost. and if that's the cost for feeling this way, i'll pay it gladly. it's worth it.