I want to tell you...

I want to tell you about a boy. A boy who was very very broken. A boy who, when I met him, was beautiful.

I want to tell you about the first time I saw him "say" anything to me. "Tell me things," he wrote. So I did.

I want to tell you about how I didn't want to go on that first date but everyone pushed me, because he seemed nice and it was "just a date." I want to tell you that I called my best friend crying my eyes out an hour before I was supposed to leave and completely switched the whole date plan around last minute to calm my anxieties and to include watching the first preseason Caps game together instead of something fancy. I want to tell you that I thought he would know how broken I felt as soon as he looked at me.

I want to tell you how he actually called me before that date to say he was on his way and how I was shocked that people still knew how to use the phone. I want to tell you that that was the first way I knew he was special. But I want to tell you that I secretly think it would've been his excuse to bail if I sounded like a man. (No offense taken...I totally get it.)

I want to tell you that I still laugh to myself when I think about how in the smallest parking garage we ended up being on two different sides when we met that night. Maybe that should've been my first clue that we would never be at the same place at the same time. But I want to tell you that I can still picture him in that back alley when he finally met me on my side.

I want to tell you that I only meant to stay out for 2 hours that night and it ended up being 4 and that when I left I posted a FB status, nerdily quoting Dumbledore. "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." I want to tell you that for the first time in a month, I went to bed with a smile on my face.

I want to tell you that when I left the next day for a work trip, I wasn't concerned about him but I was definitely intrigued by him. I want to tell you that I was more interested in meeting locals to show me around (which I never had the time for). But I want to tell you that he "yelled" at me (through texts) about texting while driving because he wanted to make sure that I came back so that he got a second date.

I want to tell you that while away, he invited me on date 1.5 (his best friend in tow) for the night I got back, and I wasn't sure I would go. But I did. I want to tell you that the Redskins lost (go figure) and that the 15 minute car ride home, turned into 3 hours of talking (and making out), and another hour phone call once we both got home. I want to tell you that next season when he pulls out his Sean Taylor jersey, it will still have bronzer on the sleeve a year later and he'll no doubt think about that night.

I want to tell you that he wanted me to introduce myself to his sister the next night by telling her that I made out with her brother the night before but I thankfully dodged that awkward encounter. And I want to tell you that I prepped so much for date 2.5 the night after that, searching through my best friend's closet before settling on something I already had with me.

I want to tell you that I can still picture him asking me if it was 8 o'clock yet on Gchat that morning and can still feel him pick me up when he hugged me that night, telling me he had been waiting all day for it. I want to tell you that it was beautiful out, the strung lights were perfect, and that I had no idea about craft beer so I let him order for me (the first of many times). I want to tell you that I still get weekly notifications when that restaurant has new beer from when he signed me up for their email newsletter that night.

I want to tell you that he told me we could do whatever I wanted that night. I want to tell you that I still have our dumb selfie from the bar afterwards and that I was really nervous because he was the first new person to meet my friends in years. But I want to tell you that I trusted it and him. And I want to tell you that when he told me he wanted to sleep together that night without "sleeping together", after a brief hesitation, I trusted that too.

I want to tell you that that night we talked for hours until 4am about everything. Our pasts, our families, our futures, our goals, the good, the bad, the dirty, the broken hearts, the broken moments, the raw, things we were proud of, things we hid from others, the stuff you usually hide from someone at the beginning. The stuff you clean up in the spit polished version of yourself. I want to tell you that he told me that he wasn't sure of what he was looking for but that he knew he was looking for a best friend. I want to tell you that I told him not to waste my time but that I never felt such ease with someone from the beginning. I want to tell you that we were together almost everyday from there on out.

I want to tell you that for a month I was on cloud nine. I felt in control. I felt happy. I want to tell you that we got comfortable fast and that I have smelled his armpits, licked his face, heard him puke (& vice versa), rubbed icy hot on his achy hockey spots, seen him cry, and wrapped his sprained wrists in icepacks.

But I want to tell you that as fast as he was open, he closed off. And that when I mentioned him spending my birthday with me at the beach he immediately started looking at his time off and then just as quickly told me that if it didn't work out between us, he didn't want the memory of my 30th birthday to be with some bum, so he didn't want to go. I tried to understand. It wasn't a big deal. Maybe that should have been another clue that there would always be hesitation in "whatever this was."

I want to tell you that a week or two later I met my ex's girlfriend for the first time and as much as I was over it, I likened it to a car accident of which you feel the impact the next day. A lot of delayed emotion that hit me. I want to tell you that I handled it fine, but that would be a lie. I don't want to tell you that I lost it, but I did, and I just needed someone to be there. I want to tell you that after a lot of dismissing of my feelings, he finally told me to come over but played video games the entire time while I cried. I want to tell you that it got better as the day went on, but all I can tell you is that by the end of the night he hooked up his computer to his television in order to be able to lay next to me, while still playing. I want to tell you that as much as it could've been better, I accepted that as all he could give to me that day. I want to tell you that during that first week in September he told me that he is good during the good times and bad during the bad times. I want to tell you that those words rung clear in my head that November day.

But I want to tell you that when my birthday did come, he expressed how much he missed me when I was away, told me to come over the night before my birthday, toasted me at midnight, let me listen to whatever music I wanted to, sent beautiful flowers to my condo, and took me to a Caps game where we sat 4 rows from the ice. I want to tell you that my birthday was perfect for so many reasons, but he completed it. And that selfie that night, it was burning Red :).

I want to tell you that after that, everything changed. December was awful and we never recovered. I want to tell you that we had so many talks and that the arms length that he held me at grew. I want to tell you that he would say it was because of the talks but I would say the talks were because of the arms length. The whole chicken or the egg conundrum, ya know?

I want to tell you that he would come back at the end of December, and that I spent his birthday with him when nobody was around, and Christmas night with him while his family did their own thing, and New Year's Eve with him after begging for something to do, and Valentine's Day with him, where he toasted to "the inevitability of another fight, being in a weird place in life and having someone to cuddle with."

I want to tell you that it crashed and burned again by mid January and that I have been trying to hold it together since. I want to tell you that I fell for that boy. Maybe it was the rawness of him at the beginning. Maybe it was the night I stood inside a garage listening to him calm a friend down who was about to make the biggest decision of his life. Maybe it was the fact that he looked really good on ice or that he wanted me to critique his play after every game I watched. Maybe it was because he didn't love himself so I wanted him to know that he was worthy. Because frankly, everyone deserves to feel that in life.

I want to tell you that I have to let him go because that boy still doesn't know what he wants in life and I do, and that the up and down is torture on the heart of a girl like me. I want to tell you that it took me almost 3 years to get to where I let someone new back in and it was totally worth it. I want to tell you that it's easy to fall in love for the first time in life at age 16 or whenever it may happen to you. We have nothing to compare it to. We just kinda jump in blind. It's beautiful and risky, but we don't appreciate it for that. I want to tell you that it's so hard to fall for someone again after the world jades you, after having your heart broken multiple times, battling through a marriage ending, and 14 years later at age 30 in a new age of technology. But I want to tell you that because of him, I know it's possible. And I am so thankful.

I want to tell you that my affair with this boy ironically lasted a full hockey season, as I write this on the same night that the Caps exit the playoffs in game 6 of the 2nd round once again. September to May. A lifetime and, at the same time, the blink of an eye. I want to tell you that he is not a bad person and that if you are one to so quickly classify someone as "good" or "bad," you will be in for a rough ride in life. I want to tell you that he is broken, just like you and I, but that his heart still works when he allows it to, and that I have felt it and heard it beat loudly.

And I want to tell you that if you are so lucky to have someone so handsome and complex ask you to "tell him things" one day, I hope you remember it all as clearly as I do.

I want to tell you...

I want to tell you that I'm thankful you came back in December and that Pho never tasted so good as it did on that day. I want to tell you that beer bottle top riddles were never so much fun to uncover and that I'm glad you called me that night to drive you home. I'll never forget the sight of strung snowflake lights hanging across an empty downtown road on a cold Winter night.

I want to tell you that being woken up at 1am, 2am, and 3am just to talk never made me feel more happy or wanted, and that I secretly wish I would still hear the phone buzzing at an unGodly hour some nights.

I want to tell you that I'm glad I got to spend your rainy birthday night with you, Christmas night listening to old records and slow dancing in the kitchen (sorry for the two left feet), New Years on the undefeated beer pong champ table, and Redskins playoffs with an amazing tailgate the night that Ovi scored his 500th career goal.

I want to tell you that those 29 reasons (+1 for good luck) I sent you at midnight on the 23rd still ring true.

I want to tell you that Netflix and Chill will forever be Peakyz & Snugs and that I can see your eye roll now (but too bad :-P). 

I want to tell you that I wish we never had such a good beginning so it didn't feel like such a hard end. And I want to tell you that I wish I could erase all of the early talks. 

I want to tell you that I wish that we had met a year from now. Or that timing wasn't a bitch. Or that people weren't damaged. Or that we could just talk for hours like those first few weeks.

I want to tell you that I know how it feels to want be alone, to find less enjoyment in things that used to make you feel so alive, and that I never want that for anyone else. Especially you.

I want to tell you that I'm sorry for the pressure and tight grip, but that they are simply because I don't want to lose you, as counterproductive as my brain knows that it is.

I want to tell you that I still want to try to be your best friend, despite it all.
I want to tell you that time still is your best friend.

I want to tell you that I still believe that it gets better and that there's life again and happiness if you fight for it, so I hope you fight for it everyday. And that I wish I could fix it all. And that I'll never stop wishing. 

And I want to tell you that when that happens, because it will happen, I still selfishly hope that you immediately think of me. Because, until then, I will miss you everyday.

Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of "Eat, Pray, Love," said the following about soul mates:

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mate's purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life..."

10 years ago today, on 311 day, I had to say goodbye to one of the most important and influential people that had ever and will ever come into my life. Most people who knew me or us then were thankful. There was a lot of bad, and a lot that I would have a hard time putting into words, even to this day. A lot that I have never and probably will never tell anyone. In a sense, after some time, I would even say I was thankful. I used to always think that if I ever saw him again I would thank him for letting me go so that I could live a better, happier life. But the truth of the matter is that he shaped me in ways that nobody will ever truly understand or comprehend. And when I did see him again, years later, I was thankful, but for other reasons. 

Was it all rainbows and sunshine 10-14 years ago? Absolutely not. In fact, I'd even venture to say that there were a lot more clouds and rain than glittery magic. But if I think back about it now, there are still moments that I can feel and breathe and smell and see, as though they just happened. I feel 16 or 18 or 20 years old. I feel pure and excited and loved in a way that nobody else could ever love someone else. I can remember the letters, and the scavenger hunt, the boat, and the country dirt road at night.

I want you to think about how it feels to have your heart broken. Think about that time when you could actually feel the pain searing through your body. When you could feel the hollowness as the pain poured out simultaneously. Think about how it felt to not be able to breathe, not be able to focus, not be able to think about anything else, not be able to plan anything past what is happening at that current moment. To have an empty mind with thoughts constantly running through it. Over and over and over and over. Think about how debilitating that feeling is. How you can't imagine feeling whole again. How it feels like you are breaking internally.

I can vividly remember running through campus that day feeling everything all at once, trying to get to my car, begging. I can remember how my heart felt like it was dead as I sat on the blacktop of a playground parking lot, begging. I can remember throwing up all over my gray American Eagle skirt as I drove back to his house, begging. I can remember the weather. I can feel it. It was much like today. Maybe a little colder. It's funny what your mind holds on to and, at the same time, what you will never recall again. I don't remember the words. I only remember the the brokenness that I felt. The first time of many.

It's funny who comes into your life and when. And why.
We always want to know why.

The truth is, that through it all, he made me a more compassionate person, a more patient person, a more forgiving person, a more understanding person, a more loving person, a more hopeful person, and a more passionate person, for better or worse.

And when I saw him for the first time again, 7 years later, I was thankful. Thankful for the opportunity to rewrite an ending that, for quite some time, didn't sit right with me. And when I saw him for the last time once again, I was thankful. Thankful for understanding and honesty and peace between two souls who will forever be connected.

To me, it's easy to be angry in life. Quite often this is the feeling you want to feel compared to others. It's easier than feeling broken and hurt because that feels very uncontrollable. Anger, on the other hand, well, fuck them, right? But what does anger do? Does it solve anything? Isn't it better to forgive and be at peace and thankful for everything you learned and gained from someone or something? At least that's what I think. I could hate so many people in my life right now. So many times I've been hurt by someone or betrayed by someone or talked to like I'm nothing by someone. But no, I would never hate someone. Because to me, those who are the most difficult in life usually have the toughest stories, and as cliche as it may sound, need love the most. And an ear. And someone to stand by them, even if from afar.

But don't ever forget about yourself in the midst of loving and forgiving. There is a time to say hello and there is definitely a time to say goodbye. But say goodbye in peace, if for no other reason but your own need to survive and live well.

I don't write my blog for any other reason than I needed a healthy release over the past year. Something very selfish but, hopefully, tactful. Tonight I had someone, someone who I met just about 3 years ago at the beginning of the tough stuff, give me this gift and tell me thank you for sharing my story and how much it helps people. To say that I'm choked up, touched, or beside myself is an understatement. The tears in my eyes have not gone away.

If I could say anything it would be this: Everyone I have ever written about here or "released" about on this platform has meant something to my heart and has changed me in some way. They have made me realize what it means to love with every part of my soul and live in the moment (even when others thought I was crazy for driving 1,000 miles alone or going out at midnight or staying awake til 4:30am talking or being friends with someone who I was once planning to build a life with) and grow as a person I never thought I would be. They have taught me what it means to truly forgive, to accept someone unconditionally as they are (even when I haven't wanted to), and to be aware of myself and everything that comes along with that-- my strengths and my faults. And if writing about them, or about my feelings about life and how it ebbs and flows helps anyone, I am thankful. Because that means that something positive can come out of something that has been so very painful in my life.

To say that she is the first person, or even the second or third, to ever reach out privately to me, would be a lie. It just happened to be perfect perfect timing. So, with that being said, one thing I want to say to anyone who reads this is that you are not alone. As much as it feels like you are at times, I'm telling you that there are so many others dealing with life's obstacles that you have no clue about. As they say, everyone is fighting a battle, and if my blog helps anyone at all to feel like they are not alone, I'm doing something right in life, even on the days where it feels anything but that.

(And if I could ever reach Brandon Stanton level of excellence, I wouldn't even know what to do with myself.)

I want to tell you...

I want to tell you that I will never listen to TSwift the same again. All of her lyrics sound like she gets it and in my head I will only hear us singing together, or hear you asking if I can feel you staring at me.

I want to tell you that beer will never taste the same again and I have (slightly) been turned into a snob, even if I still don't know what I'm talking about.

I want to tell you that hockey has always been my first love but that I will never look at it the same way again. I want to tell you that my 0981 is still better than your 1110.

I want to tell you that the hours of conversation we have had were a rawness and a realness I have never felt before, and that I will never regret the oddly comfortable immediate feeling.
I want to tell you that I'm glad you didn't sound like Stephen Hawking either.

I want to tell you that I have a new appreciation for a man and his blowdryer. 

I want to convince you that if you just open your heart to me that I would do my damnedest not to hurt it.
But I want to tell you that I know how it feels to feel empty and hollow and unrepairable and that I have laid in bed and cried until I couldn't anymore, didn't know what I felt, or until I felt nothing.

I want to tell you that I never thought I would be open to something new again, or be able to feel anything from it-- that the thought of it disgusted me for 2 1/2 years.
But I want to tell you that now, after being afraid for that long, I will miss you everyday that you're not around.

I want to tell you that reason #357 that I like you is simply because you are you-- in your loud, obnoxious, ridiculous, unsimmered, handsome, affectionate glory. 

I want to tell you that I want to try to be your best friend.
I want to tell you that time is your best friend.

I want to tell you that it gets better and that there's life again and happiness if you fight for it, so I hope you fight for it everyday.

And I want to tell you that when that happens, I selfishly hope that you immediately think of me. 

I have so much to say and cannot seem to find the right words. In my head they make sense until I go to form a sentence and then it all runs together. This may be my most rambling post yet, so bear with me.

This week has been a whirlwind, to say the least. The entire month actually. So much excitement and fun and spontaneity and gratefulness and lightness back into my life. So much energy and staying up until midnight and 4:30am, and being happy and awake anyhow. So much thankfulness to be alive and moving again. So very thankful.

Ya know, it's funny how many people in different areas of your life notice when your energy changes. For the past 3 years, I have been the quiet girl who internalizes a lot, and thinks, and gets inside of her own head too much, and posts quotes and song lyrics that reflect a deeper meaning of something going on internally. And eventually it just kinda blends into the background (unless you can relate). And then in a matter of a month, there was a BIG change. I finally felt alive again and externalized it to an extreme. And ya know what? It felt wonderful and it felt... well, like I was living again. No negativity around me. No second guessing (well, minimal, anyhow). Just living. Like my girl Kacey Musgraves says, "we can't do it over, they say it's now or never, and all we're ever getting is older." So, Yocarpe Diemlo (yeah?), get 2 hours of sleep and go to work. Your bed will be there tomorrow night and will feel even better.

Without getting into the nitty gritty, the change came from within and from external factors as well (as it tends to). But, as can be imagined, like any good and exciting whirlwind of emotion, it's done (for many understandable yet frustrating reasons). However, after a few days of anger and sadness and mandatory claw marks (as I tend to leave on things that I'm struggling to let go), tonight I'm left with a feeling of gratefulness which I don't think I'll ever be able to truly express. At least not in the near future. Gratefulness to have felt so alive and so happy again, even if it was for a short stint this time. And I just needed to let it out into the universe in some way.

So as the black cloud starts to rear its ugly head again over our friend group (Nik--where are your hand wipers?), I feel sad but hopeful. As noted today at work, I have been quieter and less antsy the past couple of days (which I'm sure isn't all bad haha), but I look forward to the time when I will have a hard time sitting still again and will ramble on and on to those around me out of pure lightness. Because how great it has been to feel happy and excited again, all the while being terrified out of my mind and ignoring it.

To end on an important note, remember to lean toward yes. Remember to lean toward openness and laughter. Remember to lean toward happiness and togetherness. Remember to lean toward hope and excitement. Fear is real, I get it. I have a lot of it in me. I'm terrified of a lot in life. Airplanes and roller coasters and scary movies and talking in front of people I don't know and sharks and heartbreak. Respect it, yes, but don't let that drive you, because feeling alive feels SO much better than feeling scared. I learned that this month in so many ways and I'm so very happy that I did.

I tried to sign the papers tonight. It was the second night in a row. Apparently it’s not as easy as it should be. Maybe that’s the intention but I know that it’s the right thing to do. At the right time. Finally. So I’ll keep trying.

A lot happens in 3 years. Or almost 3 years. But damn if 3 years doesn’t pass in a blur of madness.  It’s like I could describe every single day to you in detail but I also see it in a smudge of colors and emotions.

3 years. Wow.

Everyone says that once this is final I will feel relief. I’m not sure that is true. Maybe it will feel clear and blank. But relief? Nah. I’m not sure that word quite fits in this situation.

I came to the realization tonight that the majority of people in my daily life have only known me. Not us. What a strange realization to have. They know me with your last name but not you. And not me without you as part of my identity. What a strange, strange feeling to have when the old doesn’t fit and the current doesn’t either. Maybe I can start going by a single initial as my last name? Yeah, I’ve thought about it. But I’m pretty sure that won’t fly unless I suddenly become a rock star, which would also require me to learn how to play the guitar that’s been sitting still for over 10 years.

I also had the thought tonight that memories that used to be so vivid are now starting to fade and are hard to retrieve in my mind. I know that’s what happens as you heal and as time goes by. I’ve been there before. But the blankness feels so empty and I don’t like it.

                          

But I don’t really want to remember either. Remembering is too hard.

When P.F. died, I remember thinking that it consumed so much of our lives, so much of our daily thoughts, that eventually we were going to have to forget in order to move on. Not that we were forgetting him or his bright presence in our lives, but that we had to push it away enough from the forefront of our mind in order to continue surviving. And now, that’s where I am with the death of us. Do I love it? No. I never will. But to me you are no longer an option. How freeing! …and how very sad.

I recently heard about this new made up word "sonder." And you know I love me some words.

sonder- n.- the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

It’s fascinating to think that at this very moment, somewhere not far from here, you are living a life there at the very same time I’m living a life here. With people in your daily life that I don't know about and have never seen, but who know you well. And the separateness is ok. After accepting and unaccepting and accepting again, the sting has faded and it's ok.

Someone once said, “Never cut what you can untie.” I’d hate to see what our relationship rope looks like. Probably beaten and frayed and muddied all to hell, but damn if we didn’t try to untie the crap out of it between the insanity.

Oh, how insane it's been and soon, very soon, it’ll be completely untied.