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19 08 2008

For the last two years, I’ve bounced around a lot. Between my parents, my grandma’s, and friends, I haven’t had a real place to call home. Its unsettling, its frustrating, and gawd damn if I just want to walk around in my underwear when I get home from work at night.

I thought, for a time there, that wherever I was, as long as I was with Rura, I felt like I was home.

I was so wrong. I’ve found, over the last month, that home is where your heart is.

My heart is right here. With all of you. The comments that you left for me, the emails that you sent me, the phone calls and the text messages, the long, long nights of plurks… I wouldn’t be able to even be anything. From these two literally holding my head up, night after night, situation after situation. To him reassuring me that I am neither dumpy nor uncool and literally cracking me up while my cheeks were damp with tears.

I can never ever express exactly what all of you mean to me. Some may think its pathetic, but when I get online, anytime of the day, I know I’m home.

As of now, Rura and Miss are no longer Rura and Miss. We both have our reason’s for this, even if they are on complete opposite sides of the relationship spectrum. I know I can’t be in a relationship where I never talk to or see my boyfriend. He says he can’t love a liar. We are both hurting. As much as I am all about the over sharing, I think this time I’ll leave it at that.

In all honesty, I don’t think this portion of my life is over. I think it just might be the hardest thing we will ever go through. Usually we fight through these things together, but this time, I dont believe thats an option and I am not going to push for it to become one. He has things he has to sort out and so do I. If we can find each other after all of those clouds are gone, then we were meant to live this life together after all.

Until then, it’s Just Miss.

I hope you join me. There will be cold beer in the fridge at least and a full bar to the left.





Empty

18 08 2008

I knew, from the moment I fell in love with him, that one day he would realize that I wasn’t enough.

I’m not enough.

I’m so sorry I wasn’t enough. Wasn’t good enough to fit into your perfect life.

How will I ever know when I’m getting this right?





Awake

13 08 2008

“I can hardly remember the last time I felt like I do, you’re an angel disguised”

This is what I want. Intensity. Passion. Just listen to his voice, listen to the harmonies. Listen to that guitar. You cant tell me anything that beats a man, filled with passion, passion that you have inspired, singing and playing a song just for you. Intensity like that is hard to find. I would hold on to it if I did.

“I’ll give you my heart on a string”

If there was ever a time I could remember such intensity. Such want. I think I’ve felt it before, but now it just feels fake. Was it the music? Was it those moments? I cant even remember anymore, its been far too long.

“I’m trying real hard not to shake, I’m biting my tongue. But I’m feeling alive. And with every breath that I take, I feel like I’ve won.”

Remember that feeling? That nervousness of being with someone for the first, second, or third time? You are so unsure of yourself. So unsteady. Because feeling his heart beat makes you tremble. And the butterflies are flying, out of control. One of the best highs in the world.

“If its a hero you want I can save you, just stay here.”

Be my hero. Save me from what it is I have become. The life that I am living. I need a hero. Ride in on your white horse and right my wrongs. You have that inside of you.

“Say my name, I just want to hear you, so I know its true.”

Whisper in my ear. That will take it one step over that already scary edge. Just say it. Say you want me.

“Just say, that you’ll stay awake for me, I don’t want to miss anything.’





Things that are pissing me off Vol. 3

12 08 2008

The letter edition…

  • Dear angry man at McDonald’s: I totally understand the frustration of not getting what you order in the drive through. I’m one of those people that makes special orders, so I feel your pain tenfold sometimes. But is it really necessary to come storming into the store, demanding your sausage patty? I mean, judging by the looks of you, it is far more likely that after receiving your food, you popped the lid off your Deluxe Big Breakfast Platter and shoved that round little sausage patty right into your mouth. Poor round guy never had a chance. Then you come in and make a big show by shoving your receipt in the face of the poor girl who was lucky enough to help you. Dood. Every McDonald’s breakfast platter (all fucking two of them) comes with a round little sausage. No need to prove to them that you just bought it. They gave you another sausage circle and you turned around and stalked out. But be damned if you didn’t fold that little baby up and stuck it straight into the gaping hole in your head we normal people call a mouth. Fucking Dickface.
  • Dear Co-Worker: I still hate you. But the tension in my neck and back has gone down since moving away from you. I can breathe so much easier now. Which just confirms that my problems were YOU. I hate you. You should go away.
  • Dear Stomach: Thanks for not hurting as much as you did last week. However, can you please stop being so damn cranky and bloated? Its not hawt. I know your best friend Flo is in town, but dayum, I hate when you two bitches gang up on me. I’m out numbered here.
  • Dear Mean Wife: Someone should give YOU the stink eye. You should let your husband play with us. Most of us respect the sanctity of marriage. Most of the time anyways.
  • Dear Me: Have you looked in the mirror today? Fucking yikes. Instead of sleeping those extra 10 minutes, take some extra time in the shower and wash your damn hair! Your bangs look like shit and that messy bun is NOT working. Its nappy yo. Also? Slapping on some cover up and some powder does NOT count towards makeup. Take another 2 minutes and get some eye shadow on those lids. You spend enough damn money to own eyeshadow in every color of the rainbow, would it kill you to actually use some of it? Damn lazy cow. And wash your damn car. Its filthy and disgusting. It was filthy and disgusting last week and a little embarrassing too. I’m giving you one day to make it right. Damn lazy, disgusting cow.

Got anything to bitch about?





Another “first” gone

10 08 2008

So just the other day, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

Wait… that was 7 years ago.

Let me start over.

So just the other day, I took my son to his first day of second grade.

*Ahem* That’s better.

He was very much not looking forward to second grade. His whole first grade experience left a lot to be desired. His teacher was much too old* to be teaching first graders. She just could not keep up and she had a short temper with all the kids, not just mine. Basically, it was one of those situations where every parent thought it was their kid that was acting out, when, to his teacher, it was all the kids.

Needless to say, he was not looking forward to his first day.

I kept telling him it should be ok, and to give his new teacher a chance. He can be stubborn as hell so he wasn’t buying into my attempts to be a soothing mother type figure. Kid’s got me figured out yo.

We did the school clothes shopping, and the supply shopping and his dad took care of the shoes. He wasn’t quite ready to end his vacation. He had just stayed at the beach with the ex’s family for a long weekend, plus a lot of swimming, games, and just normal little boy stuff.

I keep forgetting he’s 7. I know that 7 doesn’t mean grown. But 2nd grade? Already? I mean, really. It’s going by far too fast for me. It’s hard to remember a time before now. I mean, yea I have pictures and video but it’s just not the same.

This does not equal out to baby fever by the way. So stop thinking that right now. You know who you are.

Any-ways, before I was rudely interrupted by those that want to see me knocked up, I just want a few minutes with my squishy little boy. Can you believe that skinny kid right there used to be a bunch of rolls? Rolls for days. He loved the boob, this kid did.

So my baby is grown. Wearing a size 3 and a half shoe now. Starts his 4th year of soccer tomorrow. Listening to this song, over and over on his first day of school.


Yea, I know all the words. What of it?

If there is yet another thing that makes me proud, is that he has inherited my love of music. Even if it’s The Naked Brothers Band, or iCarly. He will always make me smile when I hear him singing along.

Yup. My kid is so much cooler than me.

*I got mad love for the teachers. Some of the coolest people I know have teachers for their mommies. Me included.





It’s What We Deserve…

3 08 2008

We deserve…

- to be loved.

- to feel beautiful. And sexy. And not in a position to have to beg and plead for either of these things.

- to be comfortable in our own skin. In our own home.

- to be heard. To be listened to and appreciated for our words, our wisdom, and our souls.

- to know that we are in a relationship where the feelings for each other are reciprocated and not just given out of obligation.

- happiness.

- to be able to provide a loving home for our kids, without angry words.

- to not have to tread lightly on rough waters. Why are we settling for “decent enough” and not “fucking fantastic”?

- to laugh with each other every single day and know that we are sleeping beside someone who wants to laugh with us (and not necessarily at us).

- to feel wanted. In fact, to feel needed.

- the idea that just saying hello, how are you, hope you are smiling, is good enough to put a smile on our faces. (and it is. It so is.)

- our freedom. Without thinking that the person we are with doesn’t believe in the same.

- to be ourselves. Without feeling like who we ARE, who we want to be, who we CAN be is just not enough to make this relationship work. I am good enough. I shouldn’t have to go above and beyond JUST so you can see that.

- the ability to find all of this in ourselves, in our relationship, in each other.

- not to settle. Because when you settle, and admit defeat, you aren’t just cheating yourself, you are cheating all the people that you love, and the people that love you.

- the ability to say, “I’m in love”, not just “I love”.

- soft laughter, sweet touches, and soft kisses.

- not to say “goodbye” every day, but “goodnight, I cant wait to wake up next to you”.

- each other.

This blog has taken a turn. I recognize that. I went back and read some of your comments about the love that I have with him. How so many of you thought it was so beautiful. And it was. It really, really was. And now its just all twisted. I’ve contemplated moving my blog away from “ruraandmiss” because I just don’t feel like I am a part of that team anymore. These last few weeks, I have seriously thought about ending this relationship. But I want it. I want this life to work. I just never, ever imagined that it would become so much work. And please spare me your thoughts on how a relationship IS work. I know that. I fucking LIVED that. And even if I failed at it in the past, I have come to learn that a good relationship doesn’t NEED that type of back breaking, HEART breaking work. Especially when you are the only one doing anything to salvage it.

I can sit here and list all the ways I have tried to save us. This post would get much, much longer if I did. It’s just that after days like today, when I can SEE him trying, I just cant say that I am quite ready to throw in the towel. It’s just those things, those signs that pop up. Even now, right this minute, I know that everything isn’t ok. And it’s just the lack of a simple phone call to say goodnight, that is enough to make me see that. And the thing is, I’m not overly emotional about it. I’ve done that. I still cry. I cried twice over him today and it makes me feel weak. But I will NOT live my life like that. I DON’T DESERVE THAT.

The thing is, and it really boils down to this, I know I’m not alone. This has been proven to me in the last two weeks. If I had to go through all of this alone, I don’t think I would make it through, at least not in the state I am in right now. I would be a shell, going through the motions. I’m being held up, in the slightest ways possible, and it’s helping me get through these days, these never ending days where loneliness edges at my heart. And I can only give my thanks for that. My deepest and utter gratitude. You will never, ever know what your lovely words give to me each day. They will be as meaningful to me in 50 years as they are to me today, at this moment.





Just shut up already!

30 07 2008

I realized something last week.

I talk way to damn much. When I think I have something interesting to say, I talk. And talk. And talk, talk, talk, and I don’t let the people with me get a word in. I sit down with a friend and the flood gates open. Especially if the person doesn’t really know me.

You know there are friends who you are getting to know and then there are friends who know you? They know all your bullshit so you really just kick back and talk about the weather? (ok not really the weather per say, but you know what I mean) Well I really realized I had this problem. Because I kept sitting there, word vomit flowing from my mouth, my brain screaming at me to SHUT UP ALREADY, and I couldn’t stop. There were times when I was out of breath!

Add alcohol to the equation??

I sat, in a crowded, small space, and yelled (or so I was told) “I’m dysfunctional!!”. It sounded like a whisper to me, I swear. Of course this was only after  I had just described my family. Both sides. Explaining the complexity of my family, both sides!, all at once made me realize that I am dysfunctional. And I felt the need to supposedly scream that out. It doesn’t help to be in the company of an intimidatingly good looking, smart, way out of my league, person. The combination of that, alcohol, and nicotine (which, HELLO head rush) is what must have caused me to become so obnoxious.

I do it online too. Instant messages, plurk, whatever. I respond and respond and dont stop and then its just silence. Oh shit, I bored them all to death. Am no longer cute and witty, but annoying.

Maybe its nerves. Or maybe I am really just THAT socially challenged. Damn you, never ending awkward phase!!!








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