Hanging on to The Good Times instead of the Bad

4 05 2008

Do you ever wonder why we are so quick to share & take time to ponder the bad stuff, but the good stuff we let slip away so quickly?

 

I’ve had multiple failed attempts at keeping journals over the years….I do it for about the first month or so…when things are rough and I just need to get it all out…but then, when life returns back to normal, when the good stuff happens, I can of forget about writing…kind of sad, because there are so many great things that have happened in my life and the only journal entries I have are about the bad ones…So, here’s a look back at all the good stuff in life…the stuff to remember when life gets you down…stuff to be thankful for…

 

·        First kisses.

·        That first time he tries to hold your hand, and he’s as nervous as you, and he’s not sure if you’ll hold his hand or smack him…and your just thinking, would you hurry up and do it already!!

·        Driving in the car with the windows down, the wind blowing your hair back, and singing to the corny oldies on the radio at the top of your lungs.

·        Finding unexpected treasures on the clearance aisle.

·        Working your butt off, and at the end of the day sitting back with a cold drink, appreciating how damn good it looks.

·        Mornings on the porch with just a cup of coffee, the birds and squirrels…that perfect patch of time before the rest of the human world emerge.

·        An unexpected song on the radio that takes you back…

·        Giving the old neighbors something to talk about.

·        Being lucky enough to feel like you belong to two families.

·        Spring showers that linger only long enough to water the flowers (so you don’t have to).

·        Coming home from a long trip, and realizing how great you have it.

·        Old couples (are they not the cutest??)

·        A good piece of chocolate.

·        Going to run down old-timey stores for hand-dipped orange-pineapple ice cream cones. (In the convenience store we always went to when I was growing up, they still know my name.)

·        Never really being able to leave home.

·        Cleaning out the attic and coming across a box you’d forgot about years ago, and realizing it’s full of childhood treasures…getting to rediscover your childhood all over again.

·        That last gentle kiss after lovemaking…the one that makes you feel like in that one moment before you fall to sleep…the whole world is right.

·        Walking on the sidewalk on a crisp fall morning and hearing the crackling of fallen leaves below your feet and secretly wishing you could blow off work and make a big pile of them to jump in…

·        You’re never too big to be a Toys R Us kid.

·        Philadelphia cream cheese…accept no imitations.

·        That time when your flowers are just starting to bud and you just want to scream at them to hurry up and bloom already, but they make you wait…just because they can.

·        Sunrises.

·        Sitting down with an elderly person, and getting to relive their childhood…. (My great-grandmother, who was a very gentle person from my understanding, ran off my grandmother’s uncle once with a shotgun because he touched my grandmother inappropriately…the things you learn by shutting up and listening.)

·        Getting to take a nap on Sunday afternoon.

·        Going home to visit, and having your family drive you nuts until you are anxious to get back, but the moment you get back, you miss your family.

·        Being proud of a sibling and wanting to kill them at the same time.

·        Watching the squirrels play in the front yard (they are such interesting little creatures).

·        Waking up every morning and getting to start the rest of your life.

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Regrets and Lies

14 04 2008

I’m kind of regretting the intimacy from last night, mainly because I know I can’t take it back. It was almost like, we did that, and now he thinks everything is fine…which it’s not.

 

It’s 7:45 at night, we got off at 5:30, he said he’d be home shortly, that he wasn’t going any where besides home. He called at 6:50 to tell me he was on his way home. We live about 10 minutes from work…I hate when he does that. I don’t care if he goes somewhere else to hang out… just have the common courtesy to call…looks like he’s going to have another cold dinner.

 

I just, I don’t know…I’m regretting last night. He said he wanted to make things work. I’m trying to believe that, but then he does stupid stuff like not call….makes me wonder. But then other moments, he makes me feel like I am the only thing on earth he cares about.

 

I must be giving everyone a very bad view of this relationship. Unfortunately, I started this blog right before all of this happened, otherwise, you’d think we were a great couple. Everyone around us does. Of course, they don’t know everything. They see what they want to see…I guess we all do.

 

I’ve just finally found someone who supports me, and loves me. He encourages my crazy ideas, and helps me however he can. All I have to do is say I need or want something, and it’s mine. He’s the first person to accept me for me…or at least most of me…there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about me…lots I’ve hidden, but it’s because in a way, I’m very much ashamed of what I came from. It varies, there are days I’m proud of everything I’ve accomplished, but then there are days where I’m that 7 year old little girl who’s lieing to her teachers because she doesn’t want them to know that she’s growing up in a home that has no running water. It may not have been an ideal place, but it was home. I never got to really have friends over, or have parties, because I was always worried what would happen if someone found out. I spent so much time hiding our lives, that it’s kind of hard to not. It’s second nature to hide it.

 

A while back, my little brother and I were out to dinner, and he was telling me how he doesn’t mean to lie. He doesn’t want to lie to everyone, but he just can’t stop. That it just comes natural. And he’s right, we spent our entire lives telling people lies, and partially wanting to believe those fantasies ourselves,  that we blurred the line between truth and fiction so much, that we’re not even sure where the line is, much less how to get back over it.