vomit in her hair

He told me that his x-girlfriend was an alcoholic. He spent two years trying to save her. Two years of holding back her hair when she vomited. Two years down the drain.

He told me that I can't fix someone. They have to decide they want to change.

I know this, I tell it to other people all the time. I told him that I know it and he accused me of being blind to it in my own fucked up relationship. He asked me why I would even bother with someone who treated me the way that this guy had, why do I think I can change him? Why would I sit around waiting for him to change?

He is right, again. I make excuses for my behavior because. . . well, I am not really sure why. Actually - he told me why. He called me a nurturer and said there is nothing wrong with being that way but there are times when it is misplaced.

How is it that it takes an almost stranger to make me see that I am trying to force change upon someone else? How is it that he completely destroyed this delusion that was consuming me? How does the universe make these things happen? I am amazed.

I am reminded that I can live my life and be happy but that I can not make someone else better or happy, that it comes from within. There are folks out there who think the same thing and I need to spend more time with them.

Overheard something the other night that went sort of like this - 'I'm doing fine, working through some stuff, there are people in my life who want to stop me from being who I want to be and I am not going to let them. . . ."

what? really? oh my. . .

I have these moments where I have to wonder about what I am thinking. I reflect on the things I would rather ignore or imagine to be a different way. I had one of these moments earlier this week.
It was so odd, somehow a nearly complete stranger sat down and asked me a question that I felt like answering honestly. I sorta know this guy but we are not close friends by any means and to have him spend the next hour discussing some of the core issues in my life was shocking.
He rattled me. Every word out of his mouth was the truth. The advice he gave was intense and personal and every bit of it right. I don't understand experiences like that. It was incredibly cathartic. I left feeling ripped apart and by the time I walked a couple of blocks, I felt this sense of relief and lightness that I have not had in months.
I have to say that he was incredibly open about his life and the stuff he was going through. We talked about jobs and relationships and life.
He called me defeatist and made a reasonable case for why he was right. That I believe that no matter what I do, no matter how good something is, it is doomed to fail. The goodness of that particular thing can not last.
He is right.
I also believe that in the face of all the crap, the only thing to do is find something to bring joy into your life, the smell of flowers in the air or an exceptional cup of tea. . .
There was something about hearing the truth. Perhaps my friends can't see this truth. Perhaps they are unwilling to tell me. That's okay though, because he said it and I listened and it changed how I look at the world a little.

just wondering

i wonder if i want to sleep on my couch tonight. i mean, it is better than the floor. i have a bed but i am a bit bored of it. i suppose i will figure everything out. it is better than some of the places i could be right now.
really let's think about it. what girl has not done it - gone home with some guy who really can't even be called a friend. most recently, for me, he was an acquaintance. i thought that i really liked this guy. a super interesting fellow who was into a lot of the same books and music i was. but you know what i realized, too late? i can't stand him. i really think he is obnoxious and pushy and annoying and how unfortunate because we have a lot in common. the way things work i guess. regardless of all that, i am now going to tell you the worst part of it all.
he has no respect for women and the word no. seriously. i can't stand this sort of behavior. when i tell you, in exactly these words,
'hey, i am not going to have sex with you tonight. you knew that and circumstances have not changed and although it might happen another time, not tonight.'
and then he proceeds to be pushy and tries to initiate sex over and over again. i guess i was pretty annoyed. and sad for all the girls out there who i know have been with him and said yes even when they want to say no. don't fuckin' disrespect me. when i say no, i mean no. fuck you for trying to pressure me into something other than no.
have respect for women. don't pull your bullshit. i am walking home now. thank you and have a good night - you just ruined your chances of ever getting a piece of this. i am a strong woman and i do what i want and i get what i want, including being with the men i want. you are not one of those men. and i am not sorry about it.

What are you afraid of?

That's what it is all about. We manage the fear.
Courage is acting in the face of fear. Life is full of courageous acts. For some people, going out the door in the morning takes courage. Some people never make it out their door.
Death, food poisoning, spiders, failure, goats, what other people think of me, loneliness, deep water - all these things affect me. They are fears that shape my day.
I don't encounter goats too often, but when I do it is pretty tough to stand my ground. I avoid deep water - so that one is not too terrible.
I have to eat, so I think about the food poisoning thing every day.
Spiders - they are tiny so they can be anywhere. I overcome that fear through knowing what the scary ones look like. My apologies to spiders everywhere as any that are unidentifiable or borderline super scary die if I can't avoid them or if I think they might reproduce in my home.
Death, failure, loneliness - do we all fear these things?
Some people claim they have no fear of death - but is it just courage? Is it that they act in the face of death even though it is deeply terrifying? I sure think so - nothing revelatory about that though.
I guess it is interesting to see fear affect my life. When someone is afraid to love, or afraid to try, or afraid to eat out. . . . It is interesting to see fear shape my life.

I find myself wondering it about strangers on the street or new acquaintances - what are you afraid of.

big, scary world

i wake up each morning and drag my ass out of bed knowing that it must be done. i would rather stay under the covers, i would rather hide away from the big, scary world but it is impossible.

so i do what i must. i go out into the world and try to be excellent. i try to exceed my own expectations. there is so much potential and possibility for each day and i struggle with realizing even a small piece of it.

i walk to work each day, and as i put one foot in front of the other i tell myself that it will be a great day. i tell myself about all the things i will do, all the people i will see, and how great i will feel at the end of it all.

it works. i make it through my days and back to my apartment where i paint and write and blog. sometimes i go out and make new friends - another big struggle because i have trouble believing that anyone wants to talk to me. but once i start it, once i put myself out there it is not so hard and i am proven wrong.

lately i have started to notice that it seems easier to go out into the world and do what i must. it has not felt like such a terrifying thing. i wonder if someday i will stop thinking about it, will it just be the way i am.

it almost was - could have been

there are so many wonderful people in this world.
the greatest tragedy is to realize, when we are busy saying our goodbyes, that i love and respect someone and they love and respect me.
to realize what i have missed - to realize what could have been.

to see that i have missed an opportunity to have a great friendship. . .

it is a great friendship. the affection, dedication, and caring is there.
i just wish that it could have been more.

is it what it seems to be?

traveler - alone in the nighttime of a sunny-day fairy tale finds himself (suddenly) in the middle of the queens dark dream and no way out. the scones look good but the black raspberries carry death and intrigue. (why is the cow in the middle of the road?) eating one he finds himself to be a scone and suddenly the queen cow is presented with him for afternoon tea. . . (since when do cows enjoy tea with scones - most certainly i thought them to be salad eating types.)
there is nothing to do in this situation other than to decide if he is happy being a scone - eaten at tea by an unnaturally bovine lady queen or if it is a situation to flee and seek his fortune in other lands among the corsairs and brunching munching sharks of the high seas. . . .