Hate

It’s Tuesday evening and I’m sitting in a semi-junky apartment with half of my things in boxes neatly stack high against the far wall and everything else kinda spread around all over the place in a total mess.  I’m making progress…

This post isn’t about packing or the joys of throwing away stuff you’ve had stored in a closet for far too long or wondering why everyone loves Hefty when they make the thinnest crappest garbage bags ever.  This post is about my Facebook status: “…of all my sisters, I swear this one is a spawn of Satan. This chick has 666 written somewhere on her body”.  I typed it in that little box and sat back to look at it wondering if I should submit it or not.  I sat there for about 5 minutes thinking, reading it again, thinking, and reading it again.  Do I really feel that way?  Yes.  Was it a sudden status update not thought out carefully?  No.  I wish I could say I typed it in anger.  Well, I did but I can’t blame it on anger.  I actually feel that way.  I know it’s coming….people saying how wrong it is to put that up.  If I live life completely quiet and never write or say a single word, these fools might actually think my life and everyone in it are fantastic.  My words get attacked first.  I wondered if I’d eat my words later.  That is why I sat there and made sure this is exactly how I feel and I won’t regret it later.  I wish I ever regretted anything ever written about this one.  Maybe one day.

Afterwards, I called another sister to explain who I was referring to because she’s on FB often.  Then I cried.  I actually talked to God and I said, “let me just vent ok….”.  I aired everything.  My frustrations.  My irritation.  Every thing juvenile and emotional and immature I just vented.  Then I cried again because I wasn’t going to ask Him to fix her.  It is me.  It is always you.  Not the person who pissed you off, who hurt you, who betrayed you, who got under your skin, who makes you question not whether you love them but why you hate them so.  Take this hate out of my heart.  Please.  It was never her.  I spent most of my younger adolescent years trying to figure out why I hated her, why I wanted God to snatch her from this earth, and why I made every effort to not include her in any part of my life.  Then the times come when she appears or resurfaces and I realize I want her here, near, and in my life just to later regret it.  You gotta love your parents.  The Bible says so.  Is there a scripture about siblings?  I can’t remember a time I ever loved her.  Liked her?  Maybe.

Toxic people.  Everyone has them and everyone gets rid of them.  Eventually.  I think about other people during this time.  People who are fighting for custody of their kids because they haven’t been bad parents but because it makes it easier for the new husband to play daddy and leave the biological daddy outta the picture.  People without jobs living on craps trying to stay above water knowing they have little time before those little checks become no checks at all.  People who wake up day after day going to jobs they hate, are not respected at, and are often treated like servants than employees but if they don’t go they lose their jobs and that can’t happen to the family’s breadwinner.  People who depend on food pantries to eat and feed their families.  People who didn’t get word that the Great Recession ended because their recession has been ongoing from the time they can remember.  People who find themselves pregnant, without a support system, no job, barely a stable living situation, and everything else highly unstable that they are supposed to depend on.  My situation is not nearly as bad and although I should control my tongue, no one will ever cross paths with me and not know how I truly feel about them or our relationship.  Honesty is never the best policy and people care more about your words than the feelings behind them.  It’s ok to hate someone but don’t say or write that you hate them.  Oh, ok….now I get it!  Thanks

Let Him Tell It

**For Ms. Notebook (lol) who I think loves this story more than I…

Let me tell it, he has been with me for 6 months.  Let him tell it, I have been with him for 11 years.  The year was 2000. I was a nineteen year old college student who was at the end of her sophomore year.  Upstairs in my dorm room, I was putting the finishing touches on my hair and making sure my outfit was not wrinkled.  All white was the required attire.  White slacks.  White jacket.  White heels.  White pantyhose.  Pretty in white.  Rituals in a couple of hours.  I’d made it!  I’d crossed the burning sands into Zeta Land!!  It was officially official.  My phone rings, she’ll be here in about 10 minutes, meet them downstairs, bye.  I grab my keys, purse, and take the elevator down to the lobby to wait.  As I open the doors to walk into the lobby I see him.  He sees me.  Familiarity.  I smile.  He smiles.  We say hi and chit-chat.  Let me tell it, it was just an encounter.  Let him tell it, it was the beginning to a lovely story.  Our chit-chat was interrupted by her, then a blow of a horn, I suddenly remembered my plans, and we parted with a couple of good-byes.  Several encounters later but they never meant much to me.  I was in a relationship and so was he.  She stayed in my dorm on the same side a couple of floors below me.  He stayed on the other end of campus near the track which was fitting since he was Big Ten Champion in the high jump for 4 years straight.  Let me tell it, he was aight.  Let him tell it, he was a 6′ god.  Fast forward 11 years, I sit as he tells “our” story.  Most parts I vaguely remember while others I laughed at in disbelief that I had said or even done some of those things.  Back in those college years, he was not happy.  Neither was I.  We both stayed in our respective relationships and allowed them to play out.  However, during that time, I ran into him once in a while.  We had no classes together and no mutual friends other than the track girls I’d met during my 2 failed attempts to make the team.  We didn’t even run in the same circles.  But, without fail, we ran into each other every time I came back for Homecoming.  The last time was about a couple of years ago.  He was there with his former roommate/best friend.  I was with my sorors.  Let me tell it, we accidently bumped into each other in the crowd.  Let him tell it, it was divine intervention that allowed him to walk in the exact direction in which I was walking towards him.  We chit chatted.  Asked how life was going.  Laughed.  And realized he was leaving that next morning while I was leaving the following night.  We exchanged numbers.  Said our good-byes, again.

The text messages lasted for 2-3 months but life again took us on our own separate journeys until a few months ago.  Randomly, he called me out of the blue but I don’t answer numbers I don’t recognize so he left me a message.  I listened to it replaying it several times and saying the name he left out loud over and over again waiting for it to jog some memory.  Finally, the light bulb went off!  Oh, wow…it’s been like forever since we’ve talked.  My friend from around the way.  Can’t believe he still has my phone number although I have had the same number for the last 8 years almost.  I call him back.  I give a cheery hi sincerely happy to hear from him.

“How are you doing?  What’s been going on?  I can’t believe you still have my number after all this time!”

“Hey, I’ve been good, can’t complain but I actually didn’t have your number.  I had to find my 2 old cell phones, charge them up, and then search in my contacts for your number”.

(Thinking) ”Who does that?!”  (Actually said out loud) ”You must do that often (lol).”

“No, I only did it to get your number.”

Silence.

“So, what do you want?  You called me for a reason, I assume.”

“Yes, I did.  My kids are on Spring Break soon so I wanna come see you.  I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen me and we only texted back and forth at best but I would love to see you if you are free.”

“Your kids?”

“I’m a teacher.  I don’t have any kids of my own but I’ll be on vacation for a week so I was wondering if I could drive up to see you.”

“Um, and then what?”

“Well, I’d like to take you out on a date if that’s ok with you.  I know this is out of the blue but I thought about you and realized we never went out on a date so it’s like perfect timing.”

“Actually, it’s not.  I actually have kids and they aren’t on Spring Break for another few weeks.”

“Oh ok, well if I can just see you for a few hours even that will be great.”

(Thinking) “For who?”  (Actually said out loud) “Oh, well I have to see”.

The minutes were spent recapping what we’d been doing since college.  He even reminded me of encounters we’d had that I’d completely forgot about.  During those earlier years, he had expressed his interest in me while with his girlfriend.  Since my boyfriend had recently cheated I instantly dropped him into the box of “Dogs”.  Men can’t be faithful and they are pathetic!  He says I emailed him asking if we could meet.  We met at an underground library on campus one evening.  Let me tell it, it was a way to grill him about his integrity.  Let him tell it, it was a positive sign of my character because most other women he’d “propositioned” offered their place or his.  We met, sat in a back corner, and talked.  He says I asked him question after question about why he wanted to cheat on his girlfriend, why he wanted to cheat with me, what gave him the idea that I would accept, and whether he cared even a little bit about her feelings if she ever found out.  Let me tell it, he was a hot mess of scum sitting in front of me.  Let him tell it, I was a woman who had much self-respect and even his current girlfriend would have been pleased if she’d been there to listen in.  Nothing ever came to be from that.  But, later, it almost did….

He’d cheated, again.  Devastated and emotional, we had another encounter.  This time at his apartment.  I came over knowing “it” may happen.  I didn’t care anymore.  What is faithful?  Loyalty?  Commitment?  Heartbreak?  I know what the latter is and was feeling it.  He opened the door.  I walked in.  I see 2 or 3 guys sitting in the living room one of which I recognized from TV.  Our star football player.  This must be the ultimate bachelor pad.  At least I was in the right place.  We go upstairs quickly because, after all, it was obvious I was not his girlfriend.  He sat on his bed.  I sat across at his desk.  We chit-chat.  I think we kissed eventually.  I’m not completely sure.  I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.  Door closed, I begin to talk to myself.

“You can do this.  It’s just sex.  Everyone does it without thought.  Relax.  It’ll take your mind off him.  You can get even.  Do your own dirt.  It probably won’t hurt as much anymore.  Just do it.  Isn’t that Nike? I love Nike but I’m sure their slogan is not related to sex.”

He says while I was in the bathroom, he realized what was about to happen.  He thought about how sweet of a girl I was.  How I never gave in to his previous advances even remaining friends with him without judgment.  He couldn’t do it.  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it because he’d mess up any real chance he’d ever have with me.  If ever.  He respects me too much.  He thought about that day in the lobby of my dorm when he saw me standing there in all white looking cute as a button (his words….not mine).  He couldn’t go through with it.  I came out of the bathroom ready.  I’d psyched myself up for this and I was going to do it, nervously.  I walked towards him still sitting on the bed and he said:

“Hey, you gotta go.  I have this meeting I forgot about so…”

“What?!”

“I have a meeting to get to.  We meet with the coaches to go over our schedule for the upcoming week but I’d forgot about it.”

“You said it was ok to come over and now you’re telling me you have a meeting??”

“I know and I’m sorry.”

He stands up, walks towards the door, opens it, and waits for me to walk through while I’m thinking “what the hell is happening?!”  We walk downstairs and I walk through the front door back to my dorm in a fog of confusion.  That was the last time we chit chatted while in college.

His Spring Break, our date didn’t happen.  He’s waited all this time…he can wait some more.  My Spring Break, it did happen.  Amazingly enough, we talked like it hadn’t been years.  We laughed.  We ate.  We talked some more.  Let me tell it, it was two friends having a fantastic time after so many years and memories.  Let him tell it, it was his chance to get what he always wanted but couldn’t have 11 years ago.  During this time, he came clean about the “meeting”.  There was never a meeting, he explained.  If he had gone through with it, in my mind, he thought I would look at him like every other trifflin man and remember that years later never ever giving him a fair chance because he had tainted his own reputation.  Would I have entertained him now?  Would I think he was a good guy?  Or would I remember him cheating on his girlfriend at the time when my boyfriend had cheated on me?  My diverted look and silence was answer enough.  Fast forward to now, he says he loves me.  I laugh.  He fumes.  Why so sensitive?  Why so pessimistic?

“You love me? (lol)”

“Yes, let me explain.  I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you in that all white.  I thought you were so cute.  Even my girlfriend noticed it because I had to explain the awkwardness in the air when she walked up and saw us talking.  I’ve thought about you ever since then but you were with someone and so was I.  This is my chance.  I think it’s divine intervention.”

“Divine intervention?”

“Yes, look up the definition.”

“I think I know the definition, thank you.”

“I know what I want.  I see a great woman in you and I’m trying not to let you get away.”

“Interesting”.

“So, do you hate or love me?”

“I definitely don’t hate you.  I like you.  But, I don’t love you”.

“You will once you trust me”.

(Thinking) “Cocky ass”.  (Actually said out loud) “Ok”.

And that is where we are right now.  Let me tell it, he has been with me for about 6 months now.  Let him tell it, I have been with him for 11 years now and this time he won’t let me go.

Maybe

My last post was January 28th, 2011.  I kinda hoped people would think I had abandoned instead of simply neglected this blog.  There were days I had things to write about, things I wanted to vent about, or even topics I wanted to discuss with myself but I found some of those were better left inside my head and heart.  Recently, some idiot subscribed to my blog.  I got the email, read it twice, and wondered who would do such a thing?!  Did they not notice the date of my last entry?  Foolish.

Since January, some things have changed but most have remained the same.  Current events, politics, religion, relationships, love, parenting, running, writing, career, education, family, finances, etc matter here and there but never enough to justify writing a post about them.  One day I’m up and another day I’m down.  One day I’m ecstatic and the next I wanna run from it all.  I used to want to run from it all often.  Now, I can honestly say I don’t mind sticking around much longer.  Things are not as bad when you purge and secure your environment.  Apologies.  I have none.  Bitch.  That I can be.  Happy.  Surprisingly, yes.

I need therapy.  I need to write.  I need to run.  Mostly, I need therapy.  I wanna lay down on someone’s couch and talk and express and vent and cuss and cry and laugh and yell and just tell all about my life thus far.  My experiences have been fantastically normal.  Sometimes I think I should write a book but my experiences haven’t been any different from anyone else’s.  Sometimes I think I should write a song (but not sing it – torture) but it will be similar to some other song someone else has written.  Which is why I have not written because my experience will match someone else’s and it’s lame.  I don’t like people in my head, knowing my thoughts, my feelings, or what I’m doing.  Usually because it don’t seem to agree with someone else so I don’t like the criticism.  You gotta be thick-skinned to do most things publicly.

It’s Sunday.  Tomorrow is Monday.  After that it’s Tuesday.  I’ll run 3-5 miles.  Work.  Read.  Watch a movie.  Listen to music.  And every now and then update my Facebook or Twitter status.  That is my life.  I miss a lot of things and a lot of people but then I’m reminded that they or it were not what I had originally thought so I go back to being.  But, back to the therapy part, there is one niche market where no therapy exists.  That is the market I belong to.  That is what I find interesting.  Maybe I have a book in me.  If only I can become anonymous that would be great.  I don’t care about comments, readers, followings, or popularity.  If I could pen a book anonymously that would be fantastic and I would tell no one I wrote it because I’m too thin-skinned to handle the criticism, judgements, or even ridicule.  So, why write it?  Because I have something to say.  Cowardly?  Yes.  Still have not been to church in months.  Fear.  God has not given us the spirit of fear.  Skepticism.  Atheist.  My friend laughed when she reminisced on how she thought I had lost my faith.  Defiant.

Personal finances are still….going.  My goal month is September 1st, 2011.  I’ll have $16k in my Shit Happens account.  Then I’ll start on my student loans and my 40 Acres account.  I need to add my And A Mule account onto that but I’m good for now without a car.  My Monopoly account is steady with play money for stuff I want but don’t necessarily need.  It will have taken me 1.5 years to fully fund my Shit Happens account but I still feel like it’s not enough.  Maybe I should double it to be on the safe side.  Reduce my taxable income.  Increase my 401k contribution.  I need to do something.  Taxes are something I do not like paying although I get a refund every single year.  I still live humbly so I can have a safety net.  I enjoy life but I care more about not being at the mercy of my employers, job, or income.  Really need to put a dent into my student loan balance.  It’s ridiculous.  By January 1st, 2013 (if I’m alive by then), I should have $14k in my 40 Acres account.  I’ve never bought a house before but I was told how much I might need so that is how I have structured my budget for the next 2 years out.  Sounds geeky, I know but I like being disciplined and seeing the fruits of my labor.  The amazing thing is how I see “stuff” now.  Nothing is valuable other than the intangibles.  Clothes, shoes, purses, things, furniture, etc all have a price.  Since saving I realize that I was paying a high price to have most of them when they never really satisfied me.  The other good thing: I love when people think I’m struggling.  It’s amazing what you can get for free or cheap when people think you are barely making ends meet.  Idiots.  But, it’s not about the money.  If I die before I anticipate, my kids will be on a great financial path.  You can’t take the money with you, I splurge on things that I feel are important to me, pull back in other areas I couldn’t care less about, and have created a nice balance.  For the first time in my family in generations, I want to be able to leave my kids something other than my outstanding debt and high funeral costs.  I lived my life.  Take this money, invest it, spend a little, and live your life too but don’t forget God cause He will royally throw a wrench in any plans you thought you had.

Maybe I’ll write something else this week.  Maybe I’ll wait until September.  Maybe stupid people will stop subscribing to neglected blogs.  Maybe.