in the end

I have boxes and I’m a little sad to use them.

You know, sometimes I love him. I love this house, I love the luxury of the garage for storage and washer and dryer. But really it had to be about the relationship. And I failed. Again. I had sat back and said “they are all the same” (the boys/gents), and in some ways they are. Many ways, they are. But the thing they have in common the most, is me. And I was the same, and I was different, and I was the lady, and I was the man, and I was the brat, and I was the kid, and I was the adult and they – they loved me, then left me. For their own reasons, and or for my own we ended it.

Acceptance is a difficult thing. Regardless if it is accepting that promotion or the fact that you are not getting hired, it difficult. It’s difficult to take on more responsibilities because the stakes are higher, and the loss is greater. It’ difficult to be told “no” over and over again. Whether its a post card with ‘thanks for interviewing’ , a formal letter with “you are qualified but we went with another candidate”, to an automatic email that says “thanks for sending your resume please send your credit report – it’s difficult to be told no. I am actually semi used to/ okay with it because when I lived in Blur-bank I auditioned often and rarely got the part. Although they never say no to your face, or send you a post card, you never hear back – and that is your answer. Sometimes it’s better to not hear anything at all, than get the standard thanks but no thanks letter.

This goes along with relationships too. It’s hard to accept the other. It’s sometimes hard to accept yourself. Accepting that I like things a certain way, and he likes things a certain way is fine. Accepting the habits of the other is ridiculously hard – sometimes. And I kind of refuse to have that kind of little stupid conversation over and over. A conversation that would go something like:::

me: before you leave can you take your plates and glasses and garbage that you have piled in the corner by the recliner to the actual trash and sink?
him: i don’t like it when you tell me what to do
me: I’m asking you
him: i don’t like it when you ask me
me: what am I supposed to do?! you can’t just leave that mess there
him: don’t do anything, leave it there and i’ll get to it
me: when??!!! it’s been there for 3 days!
him: if it bothers you YOU take care of it
me: i’m not your maid!
him: then don’t touch it and leave it there
me: You are being ridiculous
him: that tone is not acceptable to me
me: not acceptable??!!!
him: DO NOT talk to me like that
me: UGH!!!!! (stomp stomp stomp, storms away and hides until he has left)

I just don’t think I’m gonna change and accept unnecessary messiness. It’s just another reason we don’t get along. We get along great, when things are great, and terrible when things are terrible. I will never see his side, he will never see mine – and so I’m moving out.

I have these boxes. And as I begin putting things away I’m more careful with what is mine and what is my mothers that she let me borrow. She’ll eventually need her plates and silverware back, but I can’t pack that stuff while I’m still here, duh. Can’t pack the couch that will go in her storage. And I don’t really have a place for big things like the dresser my dadda got for me at the swap meet, but Cincinnati has graciously offered to babysit my piano. I love it so much, I didn’t want to sell it. And I don’t want to later have to get a big crazy expensive one with all these sound effects I won’t use it. The piano I have I bought with my hard earned money (used, but still) and it plays, and it’s movable. It’s electric and will never need to be tuned. It’s perfect for me – but where ever I go right now, there isn’t room for it. So mom’s stuff goes in a mom pile, my stuff goes in my pile. I’m not excited, but I’m not sad. I’m not content. I’m disappointed. In him. In myself. In this town and the money situation.

And after everything that’s happened in the past year to year and a half you’d think I would have learned something valuable. Yet I find that after a divorce, being swept off my feet, moving, being licensed as an esthetician, moving in with a boyfriend, having a bestie delete me from his life, and the on again off again that is my ultimate relationship status, I feel like I haven’t learned anything. I feel like I just have to lose. I have to lose out on everything. And if I believe in karma I want to know what I did wrong. If I believe in God i want to know why I’m being punished or tested instead of just being able to live happily and move forward. If I’m supposed to be fat, why do I not want to be? These are all very important very valid questions… If I believe in love why do I let myself be let down. I let them/him down and I let myself down. I let then cross my boundaries. I cross theirs. I don’t respect myself? And therefore I don’t respect them? I’m running out of ideas. I don’t want to hear that when it rains and pours. It’s up there with when one wants you they all do.

If I believe in balance, how come I can’t find the correct ratio? If I believe in ” a time for everything, and everything in its time” how come I can’t accept what’s happening and the timeline in which it occurs?

In the end, I haven’t learned anything have I? In the end, I still feel screwed over, abandoned, let down, disappointed, poor, fat, and I wonder if I was only given the “talent” to carry a tune for karaoke nights. In the end it doesn’t matter if they left, or I left – I lose. In the end it doesn’t matter what they said or I said, it’s the way I moved on from it – but that’s just it. I haven’t moved on from anything. Im’ just stuck. I don’t know if it’s at the bottom of a hole, or if i’m just treading water, or if it’s quicksand. What I know is there is no ladder or rope out of the hole (and my magic powers are dwindling), or I’m pruning and I can’t see which way was past and which was is forward, or I’ve actually hit the bottom of the quicksand hole but my head is still up – i’m just…standing there now.

I cannot for the life of me find the positive. my mother would say something like, let me tell you what you have that’s positive, you have a family that loves you, a vehicle, indoor plumbing, a roof over your head. . . but what then?


Then, you accept it and go back to the boxes.

About Aiy_M

5'9" barefoot

Posted on December 15, 2009, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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