Physical Proximity

Why does it hurt to have you so far away? Why does it make me want to cry to see you happy with others?

We didn’t really know each other well. As well as one can for a three day depth of sharing of spirits. Then there were moments we saw each other after and chatted or adventured. But there’s only so much you can do with two weeks before separation.

Now I see you in posts, looking great and happy.

Now I see you in dreams, smiling and hugging.

 

I want you to just leave my mind. To take these feelings from me. Our relationship is not like this. Is not like that.

We’re friends. I contact you bi-monthly. You are living life to its fullest. And I am just jealous and alone. Sadly alone, I think.

Stalker, my name is thine; and I don’t like you.

Dreams are full of cheesecloth holes

Have you ever had those moments where your dreams lead you down paths of insanity, yet leave you wishing you were still there?

There I was, running down a forest hallway (you know what I mean, the open space that parts down the dark forest with a deep green carpet and bright red, orange, yellow, and brown leaves here and there) and he was following me. Almost catching up to me. I could not wait til he caught up to me.

But then there was an emergency that he had to deal with. He wouldn’t be him if he didn’t deal with it, so he backed off and disappeared into the darkness of the forest hallway dream. Blending into blackness.

I just wanted him to come back and catch up with me. I’m still waiting for him to come and catch up with me.

That dream is following me more and more each day. I long for some guy to come and find me. I don’t know why I’m alone or have been alone for so long. I do not know why the guys I’m attracted to aren’t attracted to me. There could be numerous reasons why, but the truth of the matter is that even with my flaws, I am a pretty cool person and my friends love me.

Instead of fading  into blackness, or a few brightly colored fallen leaves, I want someone to catch up with me and remain even with me.  Before I forget what the feeling of love is like.

It’s been six months since I’ve been near any guys around my age-ish. Which has been nice, giving me time to sort out my priorities and get moving on my life. (Which has been a mess. Still is a bit.) Now though, I see a lot of my friends having kids and getting proposals and I am around my brother and his girlfriend a lot more. Too much reality of romance in my life. It makes me wonder if I will ever feel that burbling of love that makes me giddy.

I miss that feeling.

But maybe this all just a culmination of the chick flick I watched last night. In the dark. Which contained many nature settings. The random firings of my brain at night latching on to the last crush I had.

Either way… I wish I was still there.

Night Ramblings

This is so stupid.

Stupid crushes. Stupid thoughts. Stupid hormones.

Yes, folks, it’s that time of year again where the pheromones are raging and my hormones have one stagnant thought that quite often my mind will process: Boys.

This year, it’s been quite easy to escape such hormones working at a camp where the wonderful male counselors around me were marvelous human beings who will one day make great dads and in the meantime are great role models for the kids. If that seems like a turn on to you, I totally understand. After all, it usually is for me, too.

The “but” begins with the following facts:

1. The guy was too young for me (Anyone under 2 years is too young for me.)
2. The guy was married
3. We were polar opposites and I’d rather throttle you than go out with you.
4. No one really got to know me this summer because for the first two weeks I was at camp, I was sick with the worst sinus infection ever. (Great first impression. And second. And third…)

Of course, I still thought I’d meet some eligible great guys out here (yes, a dream guy), but I quickly realized that there is no dream guy. As a matter of fact, I’m still realizing that there’s no “dream guy.” Sleeping Beauty, you lied. Every time I wake up from an amazing dream about some random guy, after I bask in the warm glow of his dream love, I realize he’s not real. After all, that’s the point of a dream: it’s fiction, made up, fantasy. “Dream guys” do not exist because everyone has faults and everyone has something that will irk them. No one will always be able to say the right things at the right times. No one will be able to read your mind and know exactly what you want. No, a true relationship is about give and take and choosing to go back to each other and work things out after fights/arguments/disagreements, which will happen a lot. Seriously, if we liked all the same stuff, I’d think the guy was a creeper.

I guess I was just always hoping that there’d be a guy who would at least understand me and make me feel comfortable about being myself around him. I still do hope. Underneath it all, I’m still one heck of an optimist.

Which is why I guess I can’t stop crushing on the impossible. No, not a celebrity. I can’t fall in like with a guy I’ve never met in person. So this is a guy who I know and lives near me now, but is such a dumb thing to crush on I just want to go crawl out into the woods, get injured, and die out there. All right, maybe not the die part, but living injured out in the woods would definitely drive it home that there is no way this crush will work out. Besides, soon my time here at camp will be over (2 and a half months), and that means this crush will be a thing of the past. Like all my other went-nowhere crushes.

So why can’t I stop thinking about him?

Pursue Me

Ah, my dreams are the only place my love life carries on. And no, I am not that much in charge of my dreams that I can tell it what to dream each night. (I wish.) If I could tell myself what to dream, I do not believe I would ever want to wake up. Who would want to live in a real world when you could live in a place where your dreams come true?

Although lately, my dreams have been so wonderful that waking up is a chore.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about guys in my dreams that arepursuing me.

This may sound crazy to you, but for me, this is a major step forward. If we rewound my life by ten years, you would find a little, frightened girl who thought she was unworthy of being pursued.

“Pursued?” you puzzle. Yes, pursued.

You see, for the longest time, I did not view myself as someone worthy of being chased by others. Others as in all. I thought I was the coolest bean on the face of the planet, but to have people chase after me and who I am was just a ridiculous idea. So ridiculous that I took to hiding. (I am quite good at hiding. Once hid for 10 minutes when I was only 5. That takes talent.) But lately, the call has to come out of hiding. And in doing that I have come to view myself as someone pretty cool. Cool enough to warrant pursuit.

Which is now what my dreams are showing me. Sure I’ve had plenty of dreams with cute guys and warm fuzzy feelings, but that’s all they were: just me ogling over a cute face. Or him sweeping me off my feet because that’s what girls dream of. Last night was different. Last night, I had two guys who found me worthy of pursuit. They knew that each was trying to win my heart, but it wasn’t a “love game.” It was a matter of just winning my heart. The guys weren’t setting out to prove which one I loved more, and hence the winner. They were setting out to woo me, romance my heart. Of course that wooing wasn’t done the standard way in dreams either (flowers, dinners, candles). No, these gentlemen were honestly set on winning my heart. There were talks, walks, and discussions. There was also some playing with kids, but that’s because my brain always has to have a swing set in it somewhere.

Anyway, it was just…different. For the first time, I felt worthy of their pursuit. I felt worthy of being pursued period. It’s a unique feeling that will most likely disappear given some time, but the thought and idea shall remain. The idea being that I am pretty cool and as a person, I am worthy of being pursued. I hope this new-found realization never dies, for it is the second step to maybe finally finding myself.

For Richer, For Poorer

(This continues the series on Wedding Vows and Marriage to be updated sporadically and end in February with all good intentions.)

Richness of money
It’s all about the money. No matter how little money means to you, in the end point of marriage, it means a lot. A lot doesn’t do it justice. Money in marriage is like an underground river or aquifer; always there, running or sitting underneath it all. This has nothing to do with whether or not you are greedy, desire the best for yourself, or work with the poor. That has to do with spirit, which we’ll get to later. The world runs on money. So whether or not you sign that prenuptial agreement, money will come into play very soon in your marriage. Yours and mine. More so mine because I’m a saver and not much of a spender. My motto is to live poor enough for a rainy day or a big want. In my case, big wants include new cars and vacations. I worked and saved for them, so I earned them. The thing about marriage is that it’s no longer just you with the money. Money and purchases become a joint venture.

Some of you may doubt me, but really, something about marriage makes us, as humans, start viewing everything as ‘ours.’ Which is really as it should be. In a crazy world where everything is ‘mine, mine, mine,’ the idea of having ‘ours’ is novel and new; a refreshing start for a new married couple. So even if you decide to keep separate bank accounts and each bring in your own paycheck, at some point, one of you is going to ask the other about the necessity of some such item.From what I know, this kind of question comes about because the financial situation as a whole is kept secret. When it comes to money, you’ve got to talk about it as  a team because once that marriage happens, you’re in it –life– together. For richer, for poorer.

If the man or woman you love loses their job and is unable to find a new one to the point that as a couple you’re financially nearing Welfare handouts, will you still love him/her? Will you love them in that situation when they become angry, depressed, rejected, and lash out? Because that is what marriage is, loving them when they’re poor and going through the new trials of being poor. But at the same time if the man or woman you love starts earning more than you, becomes richer than you and can afford to take you our more than you can take them out, will you begin to hate them? Or will you accept the fact and be glad that your partner’s skills at work are being recognized and rewarded? Being rich, being poor, being middle class is all involved when it comes to marriage. For richer or poorer isn’t just about money in a marriage, though. There’s another richness I mentioned earlier.

Richness of spirit
When it comes to rich and poor, you’ve also got to take into account spirit. This is spirit is the richness of one’s soul. If you both go in to marriage as atheists, but your partner finds a soul connection with Buddhism, will you love their new richness of spirit? Will you accept their new depth or want to strangle them for their peace and kindness? At times, a richness of kindness can seem smothering, especially to someone who’s used to their partner living a certain way. At the same time will you, if your spirit grows richer, be able to handle your partner’s ‘still the same’ spirit?

If you both go in equals in money and business but down the line your partner gets demoted or fired, will you be able to handle it if they turn down the path of despair and laziness? A path of the poor in spirit? Or will you want to walk away when they enter this depression and find for yourself another who will match your richness of spirit? The thing is though, that leaving your wife will not be a marriage.

A marriage is picking up your poor in spirit wife with the love you have pledged them and carry her through the tough time til her spirit becomes rich once more. A marriage is sticking it out, because of love, for when the richness of your husband’s spirit smothers you til you come to accept him and realize he is the same person you married under it all. A marriage is handling your husband’s unemployment with care and respect til life turns around again. A marriage is dealing with your wife’s increase in salary til you understand that she is now being justly valued as you justly value her. Marriage: for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; is all about love.

For better, For worse

(This begins the series on Wedding Vows and Marriage to be updated sporadically and end in February with all good intentions.)

Everyone has heard of the common wedding vows. Those that begin “I, Charlene, take you, Dan….” The kind shown on TV a lot, the kind ignored and not really listened to at weddings, the kind found at wedding vow renewal ceremonies. Or maybe as a Catholic I have just heard them countless times at numerous Masses where vow renewal ceremonies took place. But have you ever really taken the time to think about what each of theses words means? Some may have gone through Pre-Cana classes (premarital courses) and had to actually think upon the words. For me, now though, it suddenly hit me what they each mean. So today I’m starting with “For better, for worse” and depicting what this creates in my mind.

To be better. To be greater than you are now. A better person. A better lover. A better breadwinner. Think about that. When you love that person, you must love them for their better part. For the part of them that makes you love them and that you can see the stars in. When you look at your love, you can see what they can be and what they are. The best in them. But that best can come out and make them an entirely better person. Will you love them if the path they chose to go down isn’t one you want to go down? If they become Christian and you’re an atheist? If they become Baptist and you’re a Catholic? Will you love them still, even if it changes the whole dynamic? That’s what you’re saying you’ll do. You’ll love them even if they take on view points not inline with yours, but in line with making them a more loving, kind, and gentle person. Points that might make them stronger, more observant, and wiser. Would you still be willing to love them?

Of course you’ll still love them if they’re a better lover. Wouldn’t you? Because in doing that, they’ll listen to you and know just how to please you.

But what about a better breadwinner? Would you be willing to accept the fact that what they do is more highly rated than what you do? You must be able to accept them for their new skills, their great talent. Even if it means they outshine you.

Take it the other way, though. Will you be willing to become a better person for the love of your life? Can you step up your work ethic, your patience, your listening skills to be better?

I wait at home, seeing the clock tick, waiting for my husband. He’s now fifty minutes and four seconds late. Fifty minutes and five seconds. Still I hear no car door; no phone ring. I’m stressed and I’m aggravated. I just made two meals because the first one came out horribly. The CD I wanted wouldn’t play in our new player and I ruined my favorite blouse in the wash. What do I do when he comes home? Do I complain? Do I whine? Do I shout? No. I should listen to him. Hear what he has to say. Then inform him how lousy of a day I’ve had. That’s how hard it is to be better.

I’m driving home from work, late. My cell phone died and I can’t text him that I’m going to be late. Work ran way over time. I got yelled at by a client and my boss didn’t back me up. My car had a ding in it because I hit that yellow pole next to the fill up station when getting out of the car to fill it up this morning. He’d better have bought takeout and sitting with a warm meal at home, ready to listen to my problems. Because I’m flippin’ mad now and I need to take it out on someone. Is this right? Is that better? I am showing my best side by all ready thinking angry thoughts and getting ready to attack him when I arrive? Being better is hard.

Being worse is easy. Easy for you to yell, scream, cry, argue, and complain over silly things. Like the garbage, the dishes, the laundry. When you’re tired and grumpy, why shouldn’t he be tired and grumpy? But what about when they’re at their worst? Will you love her when she’s nagging you? Will you love her when she pwns you in a game and gloats? Will you love him when he hates you for the death of your child?

For better. For worse. These are meant to help us understand what happens in a marriage. It’s not all rainbows and sunshine and cake. It’s hard work; soul-changing work.

I know that at this moment, I’m not ready for better or for worse. I haven’t even met the guy yet, but I know. I think when you meet that one, you’ll get to see a touch of their worse side. And from there I’ll have to determine if it’s something that I can handle for a long, long time.

Because for me, there are no quits in marriage. Me and the rest of my life are a package deal. That’s how long I’ll love you. So that’s why I wan to be sure that I can handle that future love for better, for worse.

He came back

Aurora, or the Sleeping Beauty to some, wasn’t as crazy as many believed her to be. At least, not to me she isn’t.

Because he came back. After many a night without him in my dreams, he came back.

All right, this is very confusing. Let’s begin with a simple fact: The boy (really a man, now) is someone I have met in real life. Since meeting him, I have had many dreams concerning him. Many realistic dreams. No. They are not dirty. Think more of the very simple realistic dreams you sometimes have where you swear the dream was real and waking up is the illusion. We’ve all had those. I tend to have many of them and am able to remember them.

This boy-man has been a source of comfort, consolation, and peace in my dreams. He usually appears when I or he are in the middle of a major emotional upheaval. Yes, I said he. There have been a few times where he walked into my dream with problems of his own. Actually, he always walks into my dreams. And in the dream, we know this. Or at least I do. I know we’re meeting in a dream, and I think he does, too. Still we talk and draw strength from each other.

But there was this one time. This poem should be enough to describe it:

In my dreams,
there is a boy – A man, some would say –
who makes me smile
and can take my woes and fears away.
I have met him
in real life – As real as life can be –
but I made the fool
and fear the chance was lost to be we.

After many years apart, I saw him again. But I was a fool. A complete clod. Later that week, while asleep, of course, I found him out. I entered his dream. Why was it his? Because the setting of the dream was none like mine had ever been nor ever would be. I was intruding on his dream. And knowingly, too. I sat/stood in the back, shadowy corner of his dream, silently waiting. When he finally deigned to give me the time of night, I apologized. For everything. For being a fool, for intruding on his good dream, for being me. And I never saw him again after that.

Dream after dream I feared I never would. I’d lost him. And I couldn’t blame him. In one dream, his face resurfaced, but I could tell it wasn’t the real him. For the words he spoke were words my mind made him speak. They brought no comfort, no smiles, no joy. Just, mindless words all dream speakers speak.

I gave him up to his own.

A fortnight ago, though, he came back. After months of silence and an admittance to myself to move on, it was just dreams, he returned. I know it was him by the way I awoke: more at peace, a smile on my face, and joy in my heart. My life is in a current upheaval at the moment and it was like his heart heard mine. And so he re-entered and brought me back down. Centered me.

I shall never forget this boy-man. You can tell me it’s a dream and means nothing, but realistic dreams stick with you always. And he has been my strong point. You can tell me I should go find him (I might know how to), but I can’t. I’m too weak. He is my strength. And if he won’t find me, I shan’t be able to find him.

Becoming strong is not easily done, and far harder to do alone.