The Virginity Monologues

So, everyone who said, 'once a jerk, always a jerk'- was right on the money. Lucky for me, Scott stood me up for our Saturday date, which means that my decision was easy. No more Scott. At all. Not even as a friend.

Here's the rundown of all the other Man-type situations in my life currently.

Mr. 11. The prettiest man I've ever been involved with. He moved to Florida over a month ago, and we've stayed in contact. I miss him. I miss my Sunday mornings with him. I'll see him when he comes back into town. That's about it.

The Kid. I've had to go out to JFK a lot for work recently and in the process, I've met a 22 year old kid who is ridiculously in love with me. He's cute. And his adoration for me is spectacularly flattering. Some friends think there's no reason not to give it a real chance. Some friends think the entire situation is ludicrous. I'm undecided. I'll admit to having a crush on him. I'll also admit to being really embarrassed at having a crush on him.

B-Boy. I used to work with him. And I had a crush on him the entire time. I kinda threw myself at him at our Christmas party last year, and he seemed receptive, but then nothing ever happened. I was disappointed, but I don't chase and I don't believe in wasting my time trying to make something happen with someone that doesn't want me. On Monday night, I was an invited to an event at my former company and I knew that seeing him was a real possibility. I went in the hopes of making another play for him. He was there. He came straight to me and we flirted, like ridicuslously horny bandits. THEN we found an empty room on another floor and made out like high school kids. It was unbelievably hot. Seriously. Will this turn into a real relationship? Absolutely not. Can I have fun with this? You bet yer ass.

Today's title from: Sideways by Citizen Cope

Labels: b-boy, Mr. 11

“I’m TIRED of feeling like I’m not good enough. I don’t want to feel this anymore. What more can I be doing?” I ask my therapist.

We talk about it. We discuss options. She reminds me that self-esteem comes from esteeming acts.

She reminds me how I’ve previously mentioned that due to events that took place when I was 4, I’ve always felt tarnished.

Tarnished. This word reverberates in my head. Dirty. I’m standing on the edge of the cliff in my mind again.

She asks me what if felt like before.

“I don’t remember,” I tell her. “I don’t remember what it felt like to be completely innocent.”

The tears are coming again. Every single time I’m in therapy these days, I cry. Hard. And then I start to feel something new. I feel angry.

I have always been pretty blasé about what happened to me when I was 4. I’ve always felt that it didn’t really affect me that much and that I’ve learned the effects that it did have and I’m aware of them. It’s not something that I talk about very much, not because I deliberately don’t tell people, but because I don’t THINK to tell people. And if I ever do talk about it, I almost always say, “Eh, it didn’t have that much of an effect on me. And I’m not really that upset about it.”

But suddenly and out of nowhere, I’m angry. I’m angry at the douchebag who stole my childhood innocence. I’m angry at myself for having excused his behavior for the last 2 decades. I’m angry that I’ll never know who I was really meant to be, without that experience to shape me. I’m angry that I was forced to learn a coping mechanism at 4 that STILL makes me emotionally constipated to this day. I’m angry that I’m googling psycho-babble shit about healing my inner child and that I find that everything that I read really strikes a chord with me.

I’m ecstatic that I’ve had my epiphany. I’m not so ecstatic that it’s about healing a 26 year old wound.

I cried all day. Sometimes uncontrollably. My eyes hurt today, from the continuous crying of yesterday. I am a little scared about what’s in front of me and I don’t really know how to proceed. I imagine it will involve a lot of crying. And something about finding my 4 year old self.
Today's Title from: Baby Don't Cry by Tupac

What if- once upon a time, you met a guy who with whom you had instant and electric chemistry. And then proceeded to have an almost 2 year long, on again -off again, incredibly tumultous relationship. When it was good, it was the best nights of your life. The most consistently amazing sex. Slow dancing in the living room. Xbox. Laughing endlessly. Long, quiet talks laying in each other's arms. Showering together. Eggo waffles together at 4 am.

But when it was bad, it was horrible. Rarely following through with plans. Lying about cancelled plans. Never really knowing how he felt. Crying endlessly because he just doesn't ever live up to who you hope he'll be.

The relationship ends in veritable burst of flames.

Eventually you become friends again. Completely platonic friends. You have lunches together. You talk on instant messenger. You watch him go through a lot and make a lot of major changes in his life. You watch him battle with his mother's increasing failing health. You watch him become a different person where women are concerned. You talk about life together. And for about 8 months, this is your relationship.

Then one day, you're talking. You're making him laugh with the ridiculous sorts of situations you often find yourself in. He reminisces about your time together. And suggests going out together. It feels different. It feels like things aren't so platonic anymore.

You are hesitant. You remember how strong your feelings for him were. You remember how much he hurt you.

Do you try again?

Labels: Scott

Look at me! Writing in the middle of the week!

So, I've mentioned before that people OFTEN remark on my striking resemblance to Britney Spears. I generally don't hide the fact that I LOATHE this comparison (Sorry Mr. UPS guy- I wouldn't REALLY have punched you in the face). I mean seriously- who wants to be told that they resemble a coke-head who frequently appears in public appearing to have lost the ability to shower? Yes- I'll grant you, she's cleaned up quite a bit recently. However, I still resent any kind of comparison. I just don't like her. Its very similar to my dislike for Mariah Carey. And Celine Dion. And Jennifer Lopez. Okay, I'm done now. Oh wait- and also Jessica Simpson.

Anyhoo. The other day, I was on the subway with my BFF, Karen. We were heading to Brooklyn to explore a new neighborhood (we like to do this and if we didn't have ridiculously low rent, we decided that we would move to BK, cause it's just so NORMAL there). And there, on that subway, Karen committed the unthinkable crime. My-Crazy-Cat-Lady-Life-Partner, who gets me better than anybody else turned to me and said, "Ya know, you really do look a lot like Britney Spears."

Ok, I promise to start writing more than once a week soon!!!

I was talking to my therapist about a current situation in my life, that is a little too complicated for my personal drama meter, and I start crying. I don't even know why. And I can't stop. I cry the entire session and as I leave, I feel like someone has sucked my soul out, leaving me empty and drained. All I want to do is go home and crawl into bed and stay there for a few days.

I'm not saying that I'm unhappy or depressed in any way (I actually feel the exact opposite of depressed- elated, joyful are better words). When I was in that office, a place that I have come to know as a very safe environment, I saw in my head that I was standing at the edge of the cliff. And on the other side of that cliff was an epiphany. An important truth that I needed to know. I didn't get there. It remained elusive and out of my grasp. I wanted time to stop and think. To go back to the cliff and jump.

Was it the ability to finally wrap my head around the fact that only a few short months ago, I almost died? Was it to genuinely believe that I AM lovable? I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever know.

In the meantime, I'm gonna go for a run.

Today's Title from: How to Say Goodbye by Paul Tiernan