Reason, Season, Lifetime. Again.

I keep forgetting that I can also be a Reason.

I guess I don't give myself enough credit for that. Maybe I'm friends with someone because I'm supposed to connect them to someone else and then I'm supposed to MOVE ON.

But that doesn't stop the hurting.

And it doesn't stop me from feeling stupid when I realize that someone in my world truly does NOT have my best interests at heart. Not that they all should. Because everybody really should be looking out for him/herself. Doing what makes them happy. But I have this expectation that people around me err on the side of kindness.

And I think I'm sick of people choosing to be kinder to someone who, supposedly, doesn't matter. Especially when I'm the one sitting here trying to do the right thing. Trying to err on the side of kindness. Standing up for my friends. Fiercely.

That makes it hurt even more when I realize that all of those things I said in her defense were wrong. Wait. That's not true. She is loyal. Just not to me.

::shrug::

This isn't the first time I've dealt with this. And like before, I'll just change my own boundaries. I don't have to go through a big breakup over this. I just need to change how I behave when I'm around this person. And I certainly need to remind myself not to count on her anymore. 'Cause she certainly doesn't have my back.

I just really hate that I had to pull up the BGPs and do something that I swore two months ago that I wouldn't. Because now someone else gets to get hurt, unnecessarily. But I have to look out for myself and my family and my friends. And I will err on the side of kindness for THEM. And not the one who doesn't really matter that much anymore.

So, this marriage counseling stuff sucks. I pretty much cried for 14 hours after the last session. Not kidding. Barely slept. Woke up crying every time I turned over. Sucked. Hard.

But the very next day, baby steps were taken.

I don't know if my husband and I will end up back together. And I've been asked if this agony will be worth it if we don't.

And the answer is, without a doubt...

YES.

TG reminded me that I have been through a lot without him. Job loss. Deaths of loved ones. Shit, I beat cancer without him.

I know I can survive without him.

And, obviously, if we manage to work things out and learn to be happy together, this excruciating process will all be worth it.

But it will also be worth it if we don't work out.

Because only through this will I know that I really, really, really tried this time.

Secrets and Lies

I woke up feeling like shit this morning.

Slept most of the day until it was time for my appointment.

Eric, of course, offered to bring me soup, kleenex, anything I needed. I didn't feel quite ready for him to see me looking like something the cat dragged in, however...

And then I went to get the cancer removed. I got there early, and with the doctor ahead of schedule, I was done right about the time everybody started sending the Light and Love. Hee!

So, I called Eric. And asked if he was working from home and could I come over? I had a couple of things I needed to tell him. And, hell, I had just beat cancer, so I was feeling somewhat kickass. Even though I still looked like shit.

And I sat down and told him the big scary secrets. Like about the scars that HRT left. And that even though I'm becoming this honest person, I haven't always been so.

But I needed to tell him because I see this going somewhere and I wanted him to know now so that he still has a chance to get out if he chooses.

And after I told him the big scary things, he patted the couch next to him and I came over and snuggled up against him. And he told me to just never lie to him. I can agree to that.

And then I left to go hug the kidlet and I checked my phone.

I'd gotten an email in response to a voicemail I'd left last week.

For Leon.

Because last week, it hit me that I was grateful. I was grateful for his presence in my world when he was in it. That he was as good to me that he could have possibly been. He simply didn't have the capacity to be any better to me. But that didn't mean he ever meant to hurt me. And he was the right person to be in my world at that time. I'm grateful that he didn't sleep with me. I'm grateful that I got to learn about dating and stuff with someone who kept me (mostly) safe.

So, on the day that we might have done that thing together (but it would be raining. LMAO.), I picked up the phone and called. And said those things to his voicemail. Told him not to worry about calling me back. But that I just wanted to thank him.

Then I let it go...

And, actually, kind of forgot that I did it. Because it was so not a big deal. I just expressed my gratitude. It was on him how he decided to take it.

And, apparently, he took it well.

And he wrote me an email to tell me so. And it was lovely.

And then I went and hugged my son and texted a few of my girlfriends who knew those truths and understood what a big deal it is that I told Eric.

And I'm just feeling utterly exhausted and completely loved.

So, even sick and unshowered and doctor's office scented, I'm happy.

Lighter.

I told the big scary things and he hasn't run away.

And the Spree feels soothing on my sore throat.

:)

Ooh, bop, bop bop!

Yet another colleague stopped me and said, "You are always just so happy!"

Someone who knows what's been going on came in and hugged me right away and then stepped back, surprised. "Wow, you seem like you're in a good mood."

I don't know what it is, but I continue to smile. I continue to live. There's an ache in my chest, but it's not that bad. Denial, perhaps? Or perhaps it's just that I have this certainty that all will be well in my world. I am clinging to those harsh words spoken two days ago. I am clinging to the reminder that Leon isn't brave enough to try. That the woman who did something horrific to him is someone with whom he had a conversation a week ago. That he said, "I can't deal with this right now." This, meaning... Well, me, I guess. Because his life is, supposedly, so overwhelming that having a kickass chick tell him she loves him is too much to handle.

Everybody tells me he'll regret this. That he'll come crawling back at some point.

But I don't actually want that for him. I love the man. Flaws and all. I don't want to be with him. But I do love him. With something in me that hasn't ever been touched before. But when you love someone, you don't want them to hurt. You want them to be happy and to know beauty and Light. I hate this certainty that he's going to die alone. I don't want that for him. I want him to know Love. I don't want him to look back and regret that he lost me. I really don't.

I am grateful that he knows I love him. I am grateful that he knows I am a good person and that this love is pretty pure. I am grateful that he loves me enough to let me see how fucking flawed he is and how I am better off without him. I am grateful to know that I now know that I have given it my all. I tried. I will live knowing that I truly tried.

And then today... When I bravely went off by myself for my follow-up for my little skin cancer... After a wonderful half-hour with two of my former students. High school freshmen, now, they've grown and matured. These young men took time out of their lives to come hang out. And it was cool to measure the teacher I am now against the one they had... Because it was another reminder of how far I've come.

Just before I got to the doctor's office, I posted an update. And got responses right away. One of which was sending Light and Love, but gleeful about how her boyfriend was visiting from far away. And how was that for Clarity? And clarity hit. Hard. She's got a man who loves her and is willing to travel many miles and many hours to be with her. And the man who loves me ran screaming in the opposite direction just two days ago. My cry-free streak was broken in that moment.

Ugh.

But then I found out I'm still cancer-free. Which totally rocks.

And I started to drive home... And this song came on the radio... "Big Yellow Taxi" by Counting Crows and Vanessa Carlton.

And there's this whole part about "Don't it always seem to go, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone..."

And it hit me.

Um, no. It doesn't go that way. Because I absolutely do know what I've got. Long before it's gone.

I don't live with regret. Even little shit I think I regret, I take action to rectify it. Like I regretted that I allowed someone to stop me from shaving my head for my mother. So now I'm embarking on this huge thing that will not only result in a Bald Retromama, but it will raise awareness and funds to cure cancer. And I'll get to look around my world and see all kinds of baldies.

But I really am not the kind of person who doesn't know what she's got. Maybe that's why I have had so much trouble letting go. Because I know more than anyone what I've got. And I've been afraid to lose it.

So, right now, I will hold onto this gift of anger and disgust. Because I had this Love. And someone broke it. But I will never have to look back and wonder "what if?" I chose to love him... And he chose to be fearful and embarrassed and cowardly. Sure, he loved me. But his love wasn't the kind of love to move mountains.

But mine is.

And one day I'll move another mountain. And one day it will be reciprocated. And I will be happy in love with someone else. But in the meantime, I will keep crying. Grieving in Real Time. And dwelling in the possibility of the next thing...

Which will be something that I will grasp with all of me... And I will know exactly how precious it is... While it is right there in front of me... Not while it's walking away.

All is well... And all will be well...

First of all, for those of you who care, I am now cancer-free.

And that kicks ass.

:D

For those of you who were wondering about the dating stuff, well... Here goes:

I saw the guy again. It was a rather brief interlude, but I was pretty thrilled when he held my hand and kissed me in front of my friend. He asked me when my surgery would be and when I told him, he told me he would call me Monday afternoon to find out how it went. He said "I'm glad you're getting that taken care of. I know you've been worried about it..."

And he's right. I had been worried. And while I put up this total ass-kicking front for nearly everybody, this was one person with whom I'd been really honest about it. I WAS scared.

So, I loved that he understood that and made me feel like it was important to him to know about it.

And then he kissed me and said "goodnight, sweetheart..."

Nobody has called me by an endearment in a very long time... (No, flutiefan, "gargoyle" doesn't count. lmao)

And I giggled about it for many hours that night with CF... And woke up really happy about it...

And even after Sunday night's shenanigans, I was still thinking about him. Realizing that even though, yes, I AM interested in other men, spending time with other men, this is the guy that is my first choice right now. When I am considering going somewhere, he's the one that comes to mind first when I'm considering who to take...

And then Monday rolled around... I hadn't slept well the night before, and when I called to talk to my son to help me find my center, I ended up finding all kinds of frustrations, thanks to my ex.

Ugh. He picked the wrong day to pull that crap.

I ended up putting out the fires and was in a good place when TF came to get me. I told her my secret and instead of giving me shit, she just smiled, shook her head and said she wasn't surprised or mad...

Phew!

And then we went for my surgery... And she teased me about what a dork I am... And then I went in...

And the doctor was awesome... He chose a less invasive procedure because of where the cancer was, and gave me an extra shot of novacaine to make sure I was numb. He scraped away for a few minutes and then cauterized it with this machine that makes a sound like a bug-zapper and the scent of burnt skin wafted into my nostrils... Nothing would taste right for the rest of the day.

Forty-five minutes after walking into the office, I was on my way... Cancer-free.

Breathing a sigh of relief, TF and I went to a movie (Julie and Julia), and then out for lunch, cocktails, and dessert. Hey, we were celebrating!!!

I walked out of the movie with several voicemails and texts on my phone... I was overwhelmed by the Light and Love that was coming my way!! SO MANY people let me know that they were rooting for me... I was beyond touched...

And I tried really hard to focus on that when I realized that the guy hadn't called. Like he'd said he would.

TF reminded me that it was still afternoon, and he had time.

By 5:30, I sent him a text telling him I was cancer-free and to have a nice evening.

An hour later, I was comfortably ensconced in a bar downtown, celebrating flutiefan's visit (and the absence of cancer!), telling her about how I was bummed I hadn't heard from him...

And only because he'd told me he would. I hadn't asked him to. We'd already made plans for later in the week. If I didn't hear from him on the day of the surgery, I knew I'd see him a few days later, and we'd talk about it then.

He's a different kind of communicator than I am... He's not a texter. He's not even a phone-guy. He'll talk on the phone just long enough to make a plan for face-to-face time. And while that is strange to me, I find it somewhat refreshing... And something that I can totally deal with.

Shocking, I know.

But when he didn't call.... My feelings were hurt. I admit it.

Of course, moments after telling flutiefan, my phone rang. And it was him. And, no, I didn't take his call. I thought I'd call him when I got home that night. Maybe around 9:30 or so.

Of course, I didn't end up getting home until 12:30.

After a wonderful night with friends and strangers... Strange men flirting with me, and friends of friends coming to my rescue... I felt comfortable and alive...

I did speak to him this morning. And he apologized a dozen times for not having called when he'd said he would. He had a fairly legitimate excuse, and finally I told him to stop apologizing. I actually really appreciate that he did apologize. But I want to get over it. And I am over it.

But it gave me pause...

Do I really want to date a guy who says he'll call on the day I have surgery and doesn't?

Because I was married to a guy who let me go to surgeries by myself.

Granted, this is very new. And we're not in a committed relationship. But I had been open to that. And then I felt like maybe I wasn't.

CF already knew that I'd realized this guy matters. That was my big ClaRiTy revelation on Saturday night.

And TF and NOF (and E!) all told me to stop saying I'm going to break things off with him when I see him. That I should take a deep breath, tell him that he matters, and tell him that if he's really got all this stuff to work through, that he should probably take some time to work through it.

Maybe I'll still be available when he's ready, and perhaps we can try then.

But I can sense that he probably shouldn't wait too long... Because wonderful people are walking into my world every day... And I'm not saying that I'm going to find someone else right away.

But I AM open to it.

I keep saying everything happens for a reason. And so does he. But it feels like he's focusing on the bad stuff, and that's so not me.

Whoa.

I typed that last part and paused for several moments.

Because I realized it's finally true.

I understand it's a process and everybody goes at their own pace...

But I'm there. And I like it.

So, whatever happens next, I will say what needs to be said... And my heart and my mind will be open to whatever comes from that...

Of course, with that in my head, I spent a couple of hours with the ex this evening. The kidlet did his sport-thing, which left us with 90 minutes to chat, and then we all went to dinner... Our usual Tuesday routine.

I've been pretty quiet the last couple of Tuesdays... Now that I'm dating, I've found it more and more difficult to talk to my ex. Even though he's proven over and over again that we're done, I had still held out some hope until a few weeks ago. Moving on is one thing. Telling him about it is another thing, entirely.

But something clicked last week, and I was fairly certain something had changed with him.

Tonight, I asked him about it.

And, apparently, he's been on a date, too!!! Supposedly, he probably won't go out with her again. I'm the curious gal who asked for details, which he kept from me.

It was almost a relief when he asked if I was dating. Because then I was able to tell him. He doesn't ask as many questions as I do, which is fine.

But then we started teasing each other and joking... I about fell off my seat when he asked if I was seeing the cable guy. Because I am so NOT seeing the cable guy!!!

And while he insisted it was weird that we were talking about this stuff, I think it's just how we roll... And we'll go with that...

The only time I got upset during the conversation was when he insisted he'd offered to take me to my surgery.... Because he SO hadn't offered that. Grrr. Oy, with the re-writing history!!! Ultimately, I found it funny... Especially when he realized he'd had this whole imaginary conversation in his head. Which had culminated, apparently, with him ACTUALLY bringing me to my surgery!!

Yes, twisted senses of humor.

Hey, it's what keeps me sane.

Ish.

Haha.

But in these moments, when I am slightly nauseous at the idea of the conversation I'm going to have soon, I am secure in the knowledge that I will be able to say what I mean. And while I can't control how he takes it, I can control my own reaction to the situation.

The blinders are off. I know what I want and what I deserve. While I may be terrified, once again, I'll pull up the BGPs and face my fears...

And if this guy isn't on the same page, that's okay. Because, again, I'm pretty happy with where I am.... I have so many girlfriends who are amazing and wonderful... Both men and women seem to be attracted to my energy these days... And I'm just truly enjoying every moment.

So, no matter what happens, I know that all is well... And all will be well...

Ass-Kicking Eve...

Finally.

Surgery tomorrow. TF is coming with me. Not that I really had a choice. She sent me an email telling me that she is coming and that I have to just deal with it.

Apparently, even though I totally kick ass, I don't HAVE to do it by myself all the time.

Just as long as we all know I COULD.

;)

I found out that there are actually maybe more than just two people reading this thing. There might even be, like, FIVE of you. So, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to read. Thank you, in particular, to the one who said she cried over the last post... Because we ended up bonding even further over it. And thank you to the one who's been reading it and not holding the TMI against me... And thank you to the one who told me I'm a good writer. And, yes. I do have a kid. And yes, I do have cancer. But by this time tomorrow, I won't.

:D

So, I went home again for a few days last week. And it was wonderful and amazing. Interesting twists and turns all around. And most of it was really fun, actually.

There were a few rough moments...

Like when one of the former friends from last summer showed up at the restaurant fundraiser where I was... And she totally sat with her back to me. And while I had thought I'd gone commando, apparently, I had brought the BGPs because I pulled those damn things up, walked over to her, hugged her, told her I was happy to see her and inquired about her daughter.

Moments later, the kidlet would ask me how come he never gets to play with her daughter anymore. Yeah, that one ripped open the old wound. I was so grateful later when someone said "Wow, that was really shitty for it to spread to the kids. It's so sad when people can't be adults about this..."

Of course, I even invited her out with me and a few other moms the following evening so that the kids could play.

She didn't show.

And while I was proud of myself for being the bigger person (Again... Jeez.), there were moments later when I was tired and asked myself why she looked so uncomfortable... Because she knew she fucked up last year and is too embarrassed to admit it? Or is it because she's afraid that she killed my loyalty and I would possibly tell her secrets? (I haven't. Ever.) Or is it because she is actually so filled with negativity that it was more a "Ew. I can't believe she hugged me. Bitch."???

I don't know.

I tried not to go down THAT road...

I actually pulled a piece of paper out of a notepad and made a list... I listed the people who went out of their way to make time to see me during my brief visit. On the other side, I listed the people who, apparently, still have a bit of power to hurt my feelings, but that they shouldn't really matter. The list of people who actually do matter was far longer than the other side. And it helped for me to see it in print.

JWG said "It's important as an adult to have people around who knew you as a kid..." I am so blessed that she is one of those people... As well as so many others whose company I enjoyed during this particular visit...

And then...

As I left town, I picked up CF and brought her back home with me... And during those 24 hours, something shifted in me.

There was this moment of ClaRiTy over dinner where I sat there, choking on my words, tears in my eyes, when I admitted the truth about this Patience thing. Whoa. And it was absolutely lovely to be so secure in the knowledge that I was in a safe place... And although the realization was somewhat terrifying, it actually felt... Right.

Weird.

And over white-trash margaritas into the wee hours of the morning, we talked and laughed and shared far more secrets...

And exactly 24 hours after I'd picked her up, I put her on a train for home... And I was sad. Because I don't know when I'll see her again.

Luckily, I had something to anticipate...

Which was a lovely Sunday evening in the park... With a craptastic band... Which actually made the experience even better...

And I felt the Light and the Love from these dear friends of mine... People who are rooting for me... People who gave me beer. Which I don't ordinarily drink. And I love how IP heard about it and called me out on it. Because she knows me that well.

And now I'm home... In a place of my own... And I'm alone, but not at all lonely...

Because tomorrow will be a day of loveliness with TF... (With a slight detour into the "operating room"... LOL) And then catching up with flutiefan... And the next day will be lovely as well... And so will the day after that...

Huh. Still so much to anticipate...

And while I got some not-so-great news on the job front (presently 30 openings left... I'm number 32 on the list), that news could change in a few days as well...

And when I get my job back, here's a partial list of what I will do to celebrate:

(in no particular order)

• Brazilian
• chiropractor
• some kind of storage unit to organize the kidlet's stuff
• manicure (pedicures are not luxuries, they are necessities. I haven't had a manicure since the layoff)
• schedule travel for ultramarathon
• artwork for dining area

No, I won't do it all at once. But those are a few things that I've been putting off... Again. Patience.

I'm learning it.

And it's not quite as difficult as it used to be... Because while I've totally gotten the messages about how everything happens for a reason, and that it's not all about me, I'm learning, too, that sometimes things are sweeter when you've waited for them... And that it can often be far more worth the wait than you could have ever expected...

And now as the clock strikes midnight, I will sign off... Find my quiet place... And rest...

Because tomorrow, I get to call myself a survivor.

Sweetest dreams, all.

Laying down some ground rules so you don't piss me off.

Okay, so I have a little cancer. It's a very little cancer. It's a sarcoma, not a melanoma. It's a very common form of skin cancer. It will be removed next week, and I will be cancer-free.

Yes, it was a bit of a shock. We'd been watching this mole that had cropped up in the last couple of years, and when I went to have it removed a couple of weeks ago, the doc was just going to freeze it, like she was freezing one on my arm.

I told her that I had a weird feeling about the one on my chest, and maybe we should go ahead and biopsy it to ease my mind...

I didn't hear from her that week, and assumed that no news was good news.

Two days ago, she called me. And I'm standing there in my towel, fully expecting her to say that it was totally fine.

And that's not what she said.

It was a bit of a blur. I don't think anybody is prepared to hear that they have cancer. Of any kind.

So, I made my appointment to see the dermatologist to have the rest of it removed, and went about my day.

And when I did start telling people, I've made sure to say that it's a very minor little cancer. It's, like, the lowest form of cancer that can even be called a cancer.

Most people are being awesome about it... I like the clarifying questions. I like hearing the stories of the person they knew that had the same kind of cancer and that that person got it removed and is cancer-free. That this is curable, not just treatable. I like those stories.

I like it when people tell me that I'm totally going to kick cancer's ass, and that, yes, I CAN call myself a cancer survivor...

Because I'll be honest with you. I have a bit of an issue with being all, "I'm kicking cancer's ass!" I mean, it's a sarcoma. The doctor's going to poke me a couple of times with some local anaesthetic, cut it out, make sure she got it all, and then I'll be done. Cancer-free. No chemo. No radiation. I'm, like, a cancer loser. Leave it to me to go off and cure leukemia and develop a measly little skin cancer.

Although, I loved when someone told me that I had a very good excuse to shave my head now... I will be able to say things like, "Sure I look like I had cancer. Because I totally did!"

And I really love it when REAL cancer survivors tell me that I can totally brag about kicking cancer's ass.

Um, but I don't love it when you minimize it. I can minimize it. You don't get to. You get to tell me I kick ass. You do not get to say, "Oh, you mean it's a pre-cancer."

Because it's actually NOT a pre-cancer.

You do not get to speculate as to whether or not I'm freaking out about it.

Because I'm NOT.

You do not get to freak out about it. If you are going to spend any energy on my little ol' cancer, you can send some Light and Love my way. But that's it. I'm not gonna die, so you don't get to worry about that.

I appreciate so much the offers to come hold my hand while I get poked and cut, and maybe I'll decide to take you up on it. And maybe I'll just pull up the BGPs and just get it done on my own.

But in the meantime, know that I am GOOD.

I explained it to my son in a way that even has him joking about it (although, when he found out it was cancer, he apologized for saying "The one on your chest is gross, Mommy!" about the silver nitrate scar left there from the biopsy. My sweet little Bubba!)... We're good with this.

So, we are good.

Yes, I have a little cancer. And while it was tempting to text that guy from the last blog with, "Yeah, I was diagnosed with cancer today, so I'm not really interested in your crap right now..." I didn't.

And right now, I'm actually pretty damned grateful for this little ol' cancer of mine... Because it caused someone on the periphery to step up and bring me joy. And that's a good thing.

So, please. Keep your negativity and your minimizing to yourself. You may tell me I kick ass, that I've got this, that I rock. Keep the rest of it to yourself.

Thanks.

Oh, and while I have your attention, go get that mole checked out. And slather on some SPF 50.

And have a beautiful weekend.