I think it might be time to evaluate the situation

Going through every one of them on this journey would be monotonous and well, somewhat crazy, I will spare you the details of those less significant interludes of love, um, I mean infatuation...

Alright *deep breath* here goes...

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. The boy was angelic (to me anyway; he was kind of a punkass to other people) and he took a piece of my heart and wrapped it around his finger until it became a twisted piece of twine that could easily be manipulated into any shape he could imagine. He was everything to me. We would wrestle like two wild children in his living room of his apartment and no one would say anything about it because it was innocent--two children letting out steam and aggression in a playful puppy kind of way. We'd lay around my apartment and do next to nothing but just lay there and stare at the ceiling listening to music. We'd walk down the street, around the park, to the store, through the neighborhoods. We'd chase each other around like we were playing tag, only we wouldn't stop at tag--it was a full contact sport--we'd tackle each other to the ground, but we were always careful not to hurt each other. Things changed the day he kissed me. He'd opened the doors to a new kind of play--less innocent, more grown-up. I loved to kiss; I love to kiss.

Years passed.

He kissed me for the first time one depressed evening. The next three weeks are a blur. He kissed so passionately, not like other boys I'd kissed. He was tender and sweet. He let his hand brush my cheek or the hair that fell into my eyes. We were scolded on more than one occasion for not coming home on time, or not coming home at all. We'd just stay up talking in my car all night most the time. Um...oops? *smirk* Going into the begining of us really starting a relationship, I went off to war. I was alone.

Time passed.

It wasn't too long afterward that I'd decided to give my heart to him. I said that I was doing it because I loved him, but I think I was doing it because I thought I was supposed to. There were many things about him that made sense to me, though there were some things that were wrong in ways I could not figure out or express with words. I knew in my mind what my heart didn't want to understand because things seemed so...perfect, imperfect...perfect. He was the one that I would be with "always". I remember kissing him, my favorite thing to do back then, and thinking...oh, he doesn't like to kiss? Good, because he is a horrible kisser, I'm way cool just holding his hand and being close to him. But, I wasn't--it was weird. It was weird in the beginning. I didn't want...him.

Years and time went on.

We'd been friends for a couple of months before she kissed me. Our first kiss turned into a makeout session that lasted a little longer than six hours. And who knew that women kissed so differently than men? Wow. As time went on we eased into other forms of affection--caressing, touching, fondling, fingering, fucking. We were infatuated with the idea of pleasuring each other and ourselves. We'd take turns finding each others erogenous zones until we were completely in tune with each other to the point that we could brush up against one another in a certain way and arouse those feelings of lust that were just under the surface of our friendship facade. The day of doom came. Damn me for allowing myself to do it knowing that she'd never agree to be mine. She was my second heartbreak--I was in love with her then. Eventually I saw our sexcapades for what they were--mutual masturbation. We were using each other to fill the void that each of us had and it worked. We went with it for awhile but when one of us would feel like we were becoming to emotionally attached we'd break it off and try to have a normal friendship again. I began to love her, rather than to be in love with her. I loved her then; I love her now.

Years crawl now.

I almost gave up on love, but then I saw her. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen--her smile lit up the room and even the worst day seemed to get better when I entered the room and saw that she was there. I wonder if it was obvious. I was determined not to get involved with anyone. I met her unexpectedly one night in at the same place I'd been so many times before. A mutual friend introduced us and we were all over each other within an hour. We saw each other casually for a few weeks. I got freaked out by the fact that I was starting to have real romantic notions towards a woman. All my prior experiences had been somewhat innocent. Somewhat undefined. I was searching for meaning. I was uncertain of my intentions.
I wasn't even sure I was attracted to her physically at first. I just felt some kind of bond with her that I had never and have never felt. After a few weeks, I knew it was time to say something to her or I'd lose my chance. It took me a couple of weeks after that to get up my nerve, but I did, and then it was...awkward. Geez, I'm more lame than I thought, I'll leave it be for now. Eventually we stopped being in the same place at the same time, but I was able to grace myself with her presence on a couple of other occasions. I was unsure of myself, unsure of my intentions, and unsure of my ability to hold it all together if I were to get attached and then we were parted and went our separate ways. I never understood the saying absence makes the heart grow fonder until her absence grew nearer and nearer. The strange thing is that we were never really that close, but knowing that she was there was good enough for me. So, I called her, and I took a chance--I put myself out there for better or worse because I thought she was worth it; she is worth it.

The difference between her and the others is that there is no lust involved. I have kissed her. I haven't touched her. She hasn't touched me. I haven't gotten to hold her in my arms the way I held those others, or the way they held me. I hugged her once, right before she left for a short trip, and I knew at that time that I never wanted to let her go; I never want to let her go. The first few weeks after she left were hell on me because I had no idea what the feelings I was having were or why I was having them. I thought I'd lost her and I regretted my hesitation in pursuing a relationship with her when I had the chance. I met another girl. We were hot and heavy for a short-lived while, and eventually, I stopped beating myself up. When that "relationship" or fling, or whatever it was ended, there she was. Back in my life again. Only this time, she was coupled. She had a girlfriend. No more pressure to pursue. No more romantic notions.
It was a relief, in some weird way...that we could just hang out and get to know each other in a non-romantic sense. I grew fond of her; very fond. She intrigued me more than I had ever imagined she could.
But then she cheated on her girlfriend...made out with some other girl one drunken evening. Our friendship was just not the same after that. No, she did not cheat on her with me. I would never allow for that. I have too much respect for relationships. I have too much respect for a committment you make with another person. I know the pain involved in having that bond be broken. We were just friends. But I did grow fond of her and I did want to have her always in my life, but not in that sense.
Then her girlfriend moved for her.

I hate My Job

People talk about being successful or not being successful, but the concept of success is very ambiguous. There is no need to pursue other people’s ideas of success. ~ Ichiro Suzuki
Ichiro’s statement is a perfect summation of both my silence and my struggle- what makes me successful, and am I? Have I really determined what that means to me, particularly with work?
Sometime back, I descended into a downward spiral of worrying. Professional worrying, as in:
“I hate my job.”
“I don’t hate it, so much.”
“I hate this company. GRRRR.”
“It’s pretty good here.”
“%$#@! I hate this company!”
“I’m a loser whiner punk-ass bitch who doesn’t know how good she’s got it.”
I’m not really able to discuss in detail all the events that led to me somewhat rectifying the spiral, but they amount to a few key events:
-Me acting like an ass and really pissing off a few important, much loved peers
-Them telling me to take a breath and DEAL, FOR GOD’S SAKE, LIKE AN ADULT
-Totally screwing up an opportunity to interview for a really cool job in another part of the company
Internalize, internalize, internalize. I’ve been so internalized I might as well have been deaf and mute for real, because that’s about how I felt. Communication and clear decision-making were not my forte during this period.
I finally had to take a mental health day, with bossly permission, and ponder my stress. I found a path through to a state of semi-sanity. With an even keel restored, I’m finally feeling like I might blog again. Lucky you. I think. I hope.
I haven’t resolved the questions that led me to my loathing the daily grind, such as “What do I really want to be when I grow up?” “Am I living an authentic life, or is my line of work just perpetuating a materialistic and empty way of being?” And similar thoughts.
So we’ll see. On the specific and much more narrow subject of blogging, I lost my Muse in the stress. She’s still in Mexico, I think, drunk on anejo tequila and gobbling up any authentic cuisine she can find. Perhaps this new template and a post or two that doesn’t suck ass will lure her back.

Setting Yourself Free

It is good to remember that none of my goals in life is to be perfect. I often lose track of this aspiration. When I make mistakes, I think that I am failing or not measuring up. But if life is about experimenting, experiencing, and learning, then to be imperfect is a prerequisite. My life has become much more interesting once I let go of my quest for perfection. This doesn't mean that I don't strive to be my best. I simply accept that there is no such thing as perfection-especially in life. All living things are in a ceaseless state of movement. Life changes more than it stays the same. Perfection may happen in a moment, but it will not last because it is an impermanent state. Trying to hold on to perfection or forcing it to happen causes frustration and unhappiness.

Annoyance

We generally work hard to avoid people and things that we find annoying so they don't bother us. From a deeper spiritual perspective, however, irritation can be an important teacher and indicator that we are making progress on our path. Being able to remain centered and awake even when we feel uncomfortable is much more impressive than doing so in an environment where everything is to our liking. No matter how good we are at controlling our circumstances, there will always be factors and people that we cannot control. How we respond to these experiences to a great degree determines the quality of our lives. The goal of spiritual development is not to learn to control our environment-which is more of an ego-driven desire. And while having some measure of control over our external reality is important, it is when we are confronted with a person or situation that irritates us and we can choose not to react that we know have made progress spiritually. It is when we have mastered our internal reality that we will have become the masters of our lives. The more we try to eliminate annoyances, instead of learning to handle them gracefully, the further we get from developing the qualities that come with spiritual growth, such as patience, tolerance, and acceptance. It is often in the presence of people and experiences we find annoying that we have an opportunity to develop these qualities. Fortunately for most of us, our lives offer an abundance of opportunities to practice and cultivate these traits.

Love's Fickled Flames

"Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most to my capacity."
--A Midsummer Night's Dream Act V, Scene 1


My silence is my self defense

And So It Goes - Billy Joel

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along
I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self defense
And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose
But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break
And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows
So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows