Broken

My five dates turned into six. A month later. My phone call was never returned. My text was never answered. And then he responded, with 'wassup'.... a thirty-seven year old man. A man who teaches English and taught himself to read. I've never been that person to ask what are we or where are we going. I asked it once. I don't regret it. But, it's not for me. And I didn't ask him why it took him a month. And he never offered an explanation when we met for dinner. And then he got really hurt when I told him I had to work the next day. He wanted to spend the day together, but he didn't confirm the date until the day before. I'm not that person though that's going to point this out. Why? Because I don't want to be anyone's mother. He knows better. People know better. They didn't call you back because they didn't want too. And it's okay. But I am not working this coming Friday/Satuday and I've already texted him telling him this much and offering him my time. Because when we were alone together he opened up to me. And  I opened to him. And it meant something, because I don't open up that easy. I'm scary and broken and just trying to heal every day. I think we all are. But if he ignores this text, he won't be getting anymore from me. What happens next in 2013? I can't imagine what a parent must feel like with no guidebook to tell them right/wrong. But, at almost 33.... I won't a guidebook. I need a kick to the head or to the heart. At this point I'd even choose a broken heart again. 

Insert Clever Title Name Here...

I have been sick the past week and have had more time to think than I need. Thinking depresses me. Thinking about where my life is going ... what I have to look forward to throws me into deep sadness. Yes I am going to New York in a couple of weeks, DC the end of February, Montreal and LA in April and a fun road trip in September but the in between of it all...

My California move isn't on track. I can't sell for what I paid for and probably never will. But mostly I'm scared. A friend of mine's mother who is a real estate agent came to do an evaluation on what I can get in terms of selling and renting. Unfortunately renting won't be feasible as I can't rent it for what I pay in mortgage and I can't afford to pay the balance. She did say if I cleaned up the yard and little things she can put it on the market and see what she can do. She would even help me out by way of lowering her commission, which is so great of her. And then she asked me what I wanted to do out in California. I don't know. I have no idea. My life is a huge question mark. 

So that is the reason for my change of plans. I am crushingly terrified. Of what? Of failing. Of selling my house, moving across country, and not being able to do it. And what if that happens? What would I have to come home to? I would then have no home and would probably end up going back to renting. Because renting affords so much more flexibility. With renting you don't have to worry about selling when you want to move somewhere. But then in my opinion and how I have been raised, and taught is renting is going backwards in life. I own a house. I have equity in property. And if I no longer own that...have that adult responsibility and go back to renting it is (to me) going completely backwards in life. What's next? Going back to living with my parents? 

I wish there was a look into my future to tell me what will happen. 

I wish I wasn't so scared.

I wish I was more confident in myself and the decisions I make. 

I wish I wish I wish. 

Why am I so blocked in life? Why can't I move forward and do what I want to do? Can someone please move this gigantic rock blocking me from what I want in life? 

My Head Hurts

My head hurts. As I approach another birthday, trying to make sense of a career I want. Where to go from here? I always feel so far behind. Even after running faster than I ever have. I am behind. Or maybe I'm in front. I'm happy, I am. Is that annoying? It's refreshing. I just wish I got a paycheck that reflected all the hard work. Life is hard work. Maybe the smile I have is the reflection. I work with people who work, work, work. And they never get time to enjoy it. I'm enjoying it, but the dollar signs aren't there to support it. Can you have it all? Balance. No, I won't quote Eat Pray Love. If I knew then, what I know now. Hugs feel good. To touch another human, that connection. I much prefer a hug over a handshake. I use to be too awkward for any of it. A slight smile. I've come along way. I've got a long way to go. The journey is tiring. I feel like I've been standing too long. Or sitting. Or maybe just I need a new scene. Could I move? It's out of my hands. I know this. But in another year or so I may try to again. I know the possibility is out there somewhere. Or maybe like Dorothy I have had it all the time. Where do you go if you leave New York? Where do you go when you leave yourself? And how do you find your way back...

Everyone Is Human

Everyone is Human. Five dates later and he didn't call me back. He didn't send a text. Silence. You think when you get past a third date that there would be some sign of goodbye. Not an official goodbye, but a gesture.

I'm still waiting for my grand gesture. I cleaned the dirt underneath my toes, but still am shamed of my hands. Worn from lifting weights, handling hot trays -- life. In January, when the weather turns cold. So cold it can be hard to get out of bed. What's the point? I have to remember that without action you aren't going anywhere. Don't you hate bumper sticker slogans? I do. Especially when they might reveal a layer of truth.

Truth. I am happy.
Truth. I want more.

Truth.

It's the only drug worth taking.

Resolved

I don't make New Years resolutions. I resolve not too. As I celebrated last night with friends, I realized, as I approach the age of thirty-three that this is it. The thirties are definitely more fun than the twenties. But forty? Is is the new thirty? And then fifty? And whatever else comes after. Or came before. I just was reminded, as I stood alone at midnight, like every other midnight, that I am an adult. I'm not a young adult. I'm not middle-aged. But I am an adult. In this moment. And it felt like an outer-body experience. Twenty years ago I was nearly thirteen. Fifteen years ago I graduated from high school. More patient. More forgiving. More self aware. Still trying to love myself enough so that maybe one day someone else might love me back. We don't change that much. How many times have I said that? As I sat for a pedicure, the dirt being scrubbed from underneath my toes. The dead skin washed away. But I'm still here. Life hasn't washed me away. I'm having fun.