Playing "The Other Woman". Or NOT.

I lost my virginity a few months shy of my 17th birthday.

It was a pretty good experience as far as first sexual experiences go. I was in love. I knew the guy loved me. We had already done pretty much everything else, so the actual act of intercourse was a simple progression.

I'm grateful for that.

Of course, once my parents found out that we were having sex (or rather, suspecting!), they put the fear of God (or rather, the fear of JAIL) into the poor guy. He had turned 18, and they threatened statutory rape charges.

The kid was so glad they did not make him stop dating me, but he was terrified of having sex with me again until I was 18.

So, there were other things. I was fine with it most of the time. But there were times when I wasn't fine with it. And times that he forced me.

I didn't even break up with him for that.

I remember the afternoon when we did break up. And I went to work that night. And after work, I went out with a guy I had become friends with through work.

And that young man kissed me that night.

And I remember going to school the next morning, anticipating seeing my friends. I was desperate to tell them that I had broken up with Alex, but that another boy had kissed me.

Of course, a girl at my school had committed suicide the night before, so my boy drama took a backseat to that.

Within a few weeks, however, I was messing around with the new boy fairly regularly. Not having sex, but pretty damn close. We did go out. He actually offered me a ring fairly early on. I refused.

It wasn't long before my friends found out I was dating the new boy. And a particular group of friends knew him. Because he was the long-time boyfriend of a girl in their youth group. The guy was practically engaged. But getting naked with me on a fairly regular basis.

Ew. I ended things pretty quickly at that. I had too much respect for myself to be the other woman.

Then I got involved with the next guy. He would end up being the fiancee. It was while I was dating him that I began to have flashbacks of what had occurred with the first boyfriend. It was the fiancee that used the word "rape" for the first time.

A year later, I would run into that first boyfriend. And I would use the word "rape" to his face. And he would look me in the eye and apologize for what he had done.

Of course, the fiancee felt pretty good about himself. He would never rape me. He would spend the rest of his life with a scar on his right hand when that fist connected with the first boyfriend's teeth.

Of course, that fist would end up connecting with my face a year later.

But I didn't even break up with him right away for that.

I had gone off to college during that time.

And once I broke off the "engagement", I went a little wild. I kissed a lot of boys. None of them respected me. None had a reason to.

Many of them had girlfriends. And I simply did not care. Because if they had a girlfriend, they would not get close enough to me to break my heart or my spirit.

Sex was my shield. Sex was my weapon.

I finally calmed down enough to date a boy who would never rape me. Or hit me. But he would let me know in other ways that I wasn't quite good enough. And I let him.

I went through a few more phases of being the other woman because it was safer.

And then I met the husband.

And he treated me like gold. For many years.

Until he didn't.

And when we were breaking up, I fell into that thing with the soulmate. Ah, the soulmate.
The man who turned me inside out, woke me up, and got me out of that marriage I needed to leave. That soulmate.

He was no longer living with his girlfriend, but they were still speaking. I guess, in a way, I was the other woman for him. And because I was still, technically, married, he kept me a secret. Nobody knew that he loved me.

And when we broke up, he waited about five minutes before inviting a new woman into his bed.

But a few weeks later, he saw me. And I knew that he had been seeing someone new. But when he invited me to stay, I was pretty powerless to resist. He still had that hold on me.

And he did not kick me out the next day, bless his heart.

But I never did see him again.

I did hear from him for awhile. Especially when things were not going well with the woman that he would end up marrying.

Yep. He married her. And she has no idea that I even existed.

And I let that happen.

Because he and I were done. I would never see him again. We would stay in touch periodically for awhile. But I have not contacted him in over a year. And I have not heard from him in about that long. As far as I know, they're happy. He was not committed to her at the time we last made love, but once he did, he did.

Did I feel a little used? Nah. I got what I wanted that night. Was I sad that he would not be in my world for a longer period of time? Sure.

But thanks to Richard from Texas, I let that go.

When I mentioned him to TF the other day, she reminded me, "But you never thought you had a future with him." And she was right. I always knew that the soulmate and I were finite.

But I did feel a little icky about being the other woman. Which is a major reason why I never saw him again.

And through a lot of therapy, I've come to realize that I have some pretty serious issues when it comes to men. I won't go into all of that here.

However, you probably need to know that RetroMama has not always had this self-esteem that she holds dear now. She really let men use her as she used men in turn. She chose men who were "committed" to other women because it kept them from getting close enough to break her heart. Because she was sick of being raped. She didn't want to be hit. She didn't want someone to tell her that she really wasn't pretty enough, or smart enough, or good enough.

So, she chose other women's men.

But those days have been over for a long time. She does not choose other women's men. She's not that fucked up little girl who had been used and abused. She would rather be alone that with someone who will never be hers. (Clarity? Yes. But we'll save THAT for another blog for another day.)

Eric was the man who really made me realize that I deserve to be treated well. Eric respected me. Eric loved me. Eric made me realize that it's okay not to settle. That I am pretty enough. And I am smart enough. And I am good enough.

But then...

That night... When LI came over here and took something from me. I told him to stop. I told him to slow down. I told him to leave.

And he did not.

He did not "rape" me in the technical sense. But as TF validated for me, he did rape me in an emotional sense. He did something after I told him to stop.

I took the same shower I would have taken if he had raped me. I washed and washed and I made the water hotter than I could stand. I washed my clothes twice and still ended up throwing out the tee-shirt I had worn that night.

And Eric came to me that night and made me feel safe. He touched me with love and affection and gentleness.

But he had a girlfriend. Oh, but that didn't really matter because he was going to break up with her anyway.

So, when Eric touched me that night, I did not feel guilty.

For days, I did not feel guilty.

But then he threw me under the bus. And he not only did not break up with his girlfriend, but he told her that I had told him I still loved him.

Um, I would never have said that to another woman's man if he had not told me that, repeatedly, in the previous days.

But then he did not break up with her.

And he did not tell her what he had done with me. And what he had said to me. He only told her what I said.

Great. Now, she hates me.

And I stuck up for her that night when he told me he had booked that trip. I told him that he was leading her on. And that he wasn't being fair to her if he only told her half the story.

But that day... When he told her what I had said, but not what he had said?

Something broke in me.

Because Eric... Darling, wonderful, loving, amazing Eric... Eric made me into the "other woman".

And I can't condone that and I can't respect that.

And I was fucking pissed off that he did that.

Because he was the last person on the planet that I believed would ever disrespect me that way.

So, I told him we couldn't be friends.

But he fought for me.

And I thought I could forgive him. As long as he did not make me a party to his dishonesty. If we were to be friends, I would have to be friends with Cara, too. And I could not be friends with Cara if he did not tell her the truth.

So, he asked for a "break". "Let's take November. You write your novel, let me get through my stuff. Then we'll be friends."

I assumed that he meant he would have told Cara the truth. Because that was my condition. Not an ultimatum. Just a condition.

And as the days passed and we weren't talking, I realized that there was no reason to wait and have a conversation in December if he had not told her the truth.

And, surely, he would know by now.

So, I emailed him and asked him. He'd said it was okay to email if we needed to. I needed to. So, I did.

And he ignored me.

Until today. Finally. After I actually had started worrying about whether or not something awful had befallen him or his family.

And after dragging it out all fucking day long, he finally answered me in a one-word email.

"No."

Well, there's my answer.

I'm done with Eric. And while I did call him, hoping for a decent good-bye this time, he chose not to answer my call except for when he had a kid with him. Knowing I would not pressure him to speak in front of his kid.

So, I may have left him a voicemail. One in which I told him I'm so damned disappointed. That I had expected so much more from him. That he had always treated me with respect. And that I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around this. But that I hoped he would choose to be happy. That it would be worth it. I said that stuff at the end.

Huh. He must not have listened to that part. Because he described it as a "diatribe" in his last email. Which he sent about two hours after that voicemail.

Um, okay.

He opened with how furious he is with me.

Yeah. I think he's going to be even more furious with me by the time this night is over.

Because, you see, I realized something that I never realized before. Back when I was in college, I liked being the other woman. It made me feel powerful. Sexy.

But now? Now I feel dirty. (Which really sucks. Because last night when I was so upset, I found myself thinking about LI and what he did. And I can't focus on how Eric made me feel better. So, now I actually get to deal with that whole act.)

And I realized that I really feel a sense of solidarity with Cara.

And I said in one of those emails over the weekend, that this isn't about him telling her to hurt her. If he broke up with her with our secret intact, that would be okay. I'm just really not okay with allowing this woman to fall further in love with him when he has already betrayed her.

She's a single mom, for crying out loud.

And I would hope that if I'm ever in a relationship again (which is REEEEEEEEAAAAALY doubtful at this point!), that if that man made love to another, I would hope that someone would be brave enough to tell me.

Cara seems like a really nice lady.

She's a little pissed off, though, and confused. And says that Eric's got some 'splainin' to do.

But, yeah. I did tell her. And I apologized for my part in this, and I told her that she does not have to worry about me ever having sex with her boyfriend again. That I had told him two weeks ago to tell her what had happened, and that he had, apparently, decided against it.

So, yeah.

Eric's gonna hate me now.

But you know what?

I'm actually feeling totally okay with that.

Eric said in that email he sent me a couple of hours ago that I can think of him whatever I want. That he knows who he is.

Yeah, well. So do I.

And now, so does Cara. Just as she should.

Just give me something to believe....

...'Cause I am living just to breathe.

What a fucking craptastic day.

I was nearly in tears half a dozen times when I realized just what a disservice I had done to my students by trying out this new schedule just to prove a point to someone who will never look at herself and realize what a horrible teacher she really is. If I wasn't so enraged, I would have been flattered by all of the wonderful things my students said about me. But all I could think was that they deserve so much from every teacher with whom they work.

And the plans I had for tonight... Didn't exactly happen. Since it's the last night before the husband goes on his trip, I thought, for sure, we would go for coffee...

I thought wrong.

I told him to drop me off at home so I could get some writing done. He was too distracted to have a conversation with me anyway. Why bother?

But I did ask him: While you're gone, are you working under the assumption that we're still working on things?

He didn't even hesitate when he said "yes".

Fuck.

"And when you come back, you see us as working on things because you want to get back together?"

And for the first time since this all began, he said, "Yes."

Is he fucking kidding me?!?

And then TF played DA with me. And I so wasn't in the mood for it.

No, I'm not putting off telling him what is really happening because I care what people think of me. (Shit, if I cared what people thought of me, I wouldn't write what I do here. Haha.) I truly believe that allowing him to come to his own conclusions (either on his own or with the therapist pointing it out) is what will be best for our family, over all. And while it's hard to put off my real life while he's trying to figure this shit out, hell... I've been putting off my real life for three years. What's another few weeks?

::shrug::

But when he called to say he would pick me up instead of me driving over to meet him to pick up our son?

I pulled up the fucking BGPs, lemme tell ya.

And I got in his truck and said: You know how you said that you think you're coming back and we're going to work on stuff? Well, I don't believe you. I have no reason to believe you. You have given me nothing to hold onto while you're gone. I have no reason to think that you will be thinking about me. I have nothing to look forward to when you get back. I'm waiting for you to change. And you're 40 years old. That's not fair of me to ask you to change. And I don't think it's a matter of desire. I think you do WANT to change. But I really think it's a matter of capability. I don't think you're capable of change.

And he didn't really answer me. When I asked him if he had anything to say, he said, "I don't know what you want."

I said, "I want something to hold onto."

He said that he worries about how this trip will affect us, since it's been such an issue in the last couple of months. I said, "I'm not worried. Honestly? I don't even care at this point." And that was the truth.

And then he tried to say something about how he doesn't want his one big trip to be an issue, especially since I've made it clear that I plan to travel, too.

Moments later, I made this point: I would be inviting you on any trip I take in the future. You will never invite me on this trip.

And then there was the usual family dinner. And it was great. And we all had fun together.

And then we got to my apartment. And the kidlet clung to his dad because he's going to miss him. But he was pretty calm about leaving him.

And then as I got out, he said, "I'll call you."

And then he grabbed my hand.

And kissed it.

And I closed the door, slung my arm around the kidlet's shoulders and walked away. I didn't look back.

Saying it.

Remember when I took the kidlet on a trip over Thanksgiving? It was a driving trip out-of-state. And I was pretty terrified going into it. TF had planned the whole thing and then had to back out a few weeks in advance. And I was all freaked out over going on my own.

Yeah.

Tomorrow afternoon, we leave for a trip out-of-state.

And I've planned it. I booked and paid for the plane tickets. I booked a rental car. I secured places to stay with dear friends for most of the nights we'll be gone. I've booked awesome activities for while we're gone.

And, of course, Eric generously offered me hotel points so that we could stay in a hotel on the night we arrive. And, shockingly, I accepted.

I have yet to pack. But I'm getting laundry done, so that's my excuse.

And I'm not scared. I've totally got this.

What a difference a few months makes. And what a difference pulling it off once makes.

I am a completely different person than the one I was at Thanksgiving.

I'm no longer crying over Leon. I've actually gotten to my grateful place about him.

I got to see CJ, hand him a copy of my book and thank him for being so influential during that time. I got to tell him to his face that I deserved better than the way he blew me off. And he looked me in the eye and said, "I know. And I'm so sorry." He explained what was happening in his world at that time (which, of course, had nothing to do with me) and I pretty much brought a ton of stuff to the surface for him. Threw some truths at him that he had yet to see. I was, apparently, his Reason.

And, I went there that night with Eric's blessing. Because Eric is great like that.

Eric read my blog a bit. And then stopped. Probably for the best. But he signed an email "YABE". "Your Assless Boyfriend, Eric." And I totally love that he is so great about it.

It's been hard for me to find time to write. This whole business of falling in love and having a grownup relationship when there are kids and Exes and whatnot involved... It's time-consuming. And it's beautiful and amazing and complicated and frustrating and wonderful.

This man encompasses everything that was on my lists. He kicks more ass in his corner of the world than I do in mine.

He really hears me. And he really sees me. And at 1:00 this morning, when I sobbed in his arms, he told me I was being ridiculous. But at 8:30, over coffee I'd made in the French Press, he admitted that I was absolutely not ridiculous.

We're still in the honeymoon phase. Ish.

Today when he emailed me and accidentally used "your" instead of "you're", I actually let it slide. Minutes later, he emailed me again apologizing and asking if I was going to break up with him. I love that he knows that is so huge to me.

We have different definitions of being "in love". And I'm trying to wrap my mind around that.

By my definition, I love him. I have since days after we first spoke. And even after that horrific first date, I knew I still would love him. That we would be great friends.

But, by my definition, I'm falling in love with him, too. And, by his? He's not there yet. And that's hard. But only sometimes. Because I know how he feels about me. I can see it in his phone calls and texts. In the way he listens and in the way he looks at me. In the way that he touches me. In the way that he won't let me turn away and hide my tears. He kind of sees through my tough chick act. And, shockingly, I'm okay with that.

Secure in the knowledge of what we have, I can go finish the laundry and get to packing for our trip.

I get to see my LLT in the morning. And then we're off. For another kickass trip that I can provide for my son because I left his dad. Who remains one of my very best friends.

Life is good.

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.

:)

Now I get to choose between Quality and Quality.

Have you missed me?

I have.

Um, remember this? The list?

I just re-read it.

And, um...

So far, Eric is all of that. I don't know how he is in bed. Not that he didn't offer to let me find out... The first time we met.

Let me backtrack.

I was supposed to flee the state for Valentines Day weekend. And my friend ended up getting sick, so there I was... Alone... For the entire weekend. With no plans. Not a good place for me to be at that time.

It ended up being a lovely weekend. I spoke to Brendan while he was on a long drive... For, like, two hours. He even brought me into the convenience store while he stocked up on candy and water. I told him to get Spree, but that doesn't seem to be found very easily lately.

Anyway.

The next day, something happened that I wasn't clear about... And it turned out the ultrarunner that I'd been interested in last year knew what had happened... And we got to texting... And then I was sitting there reflecting... About how pivotal he was in my world. How he was a part of that Mother's Day weekend last year that changed everything... And I had never thanked him.

So, I did.

And we ended up meeting for dinner. And it was awesome. He promised to call the next day.

But I woke up thinking about Brendan.... Hoping he would call me on his way home. And perhaps we could meet. Because he pretty much has to drive through my town to get home. We texted that morning and he promised to call me on his way home.

And then the ultrarunner didn't call. I didn't expect the ultrarunner to call (nor did I particularly care. Except that I hadn't asked him to call. He simply volunteered when we'd said goodnight the night before). But I did expect Brendan to call.

In the meantime, someone contacted me through the dating website... And I found myself intrigued...

He'd posted what he's looking for in a woman...

What I look for in a woman: cute, funny, smart, sassy, honest, kind, open minded, intellectual curiosity, socially conscious, playful, affectionate, mischievous, down to earth, wine tasting fan, responsible, professional, independent, outdoorsy, reader, fan of the arts, single, good communication skills, movie lover, passionate, sensual, romantic, friend, adventurous, social

Um, hi? Has he been reading my blog?

We wrote back and forth a few times that day. I was totally entertained, but still had my hopes sky-high for Brendan. But then he didn't call.

So, there I was... Valentine's Day. I'd gotten to see my son for maybe an hour or two, but he wasn't with me that night. And I missed him. And then the boy I liked disappointed me. By breaking a promise.

So, when I opened a bottle of Cabernet that night and sat on the couch to feel sorry for myself, the tears came... And that's when the phone rang.

It was Brendan.

I quickly dried my tears and was pleasant on the phone. He wanted to follow through with the phone call he'd promised, but he waited until he got home... Hmmm...

The next day, the emails with the new guy flew fast and furiously... And then Brendan called that night. A spur-of-the-moment thing. And when we hung up, I got an email from the new guy... Asking me if we could talk. He wanted to "match the voice to the prose"... And I was excited to talk to him. I had been very much enjoying his emails. He's clever and funny... Asked me lots of really good questions...

We were on the phone til midnight.

And I liked him. I really liked him.

Which kind of confused me about how I felt about Brendan. I'd been putting in a lot of effort with him. Because he was worth it. I'd been calling him "my future husband, but he doesn't know it yet" for two months. Completely convinced that it was just a matter of time until he decided not to be afraid of our connection and to decide that we would be great.

And then Brendan didn't call the day he said he would. Again. Ugh.

So, then the new guy and I decided we could meet. His travel plans for work changed and could I meet him for lunch near my work? I couldn't, but we ended up meeting at my favorite coffee shop that afternoon.

And after four days of amazing phone calls and emails, we were both pretty excited.

I still spoke to Brendan on the way to work that morning. Didn't mention anything about the new guy (although I think he had stepped up the contact when I did mention I'd been on a date that weekend), but we had a great conversation. Totally connected. Again.

But I was anticipating meeting the new guy that afternoon. My body was humming with tension and excitement.

D talked me down while I was driving there... Told me to breathe and shit. Reminded me that I had been thinking Brendan was "the one" and how could I be so into someone else in such a short period of time?

And I talked it out. About how Brendan is actively working towards something in his work. And I love listening to him talk about it. But he says things about how he wants to be a man of his word. And yet... He hasn't been that with me. How many times does he get to promise he'll call at a particular time or on a particular day and then not and then I blow it off? I don't stand for that in others, why do I with him? Fears shmears. I was on my way to meet someone who absolutely had been showing me that he is interested in me.

And there he was.

And he gave me an amazing gift... Something beautiful and perfect for me.

And I was so completely not attracted to him.

Fuck.

But I stayed. And drank dirty chai. And got to know each other further. Ish.

And then he asked, "Do you want to get out of here?"

And I asked, warily, "And go where?"

"Back to my place," he replied.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't."

We went for a walk instead. And I couldn't find the words to tell this guy that I totally adored him, but was completely not attracted to him and could we just be really good friends?

But I still kissed him. Hoping I would feel something. But I didn't.

Within moments of driving away, he was texting me and emailing me. Apologizing for what he'd asked.

I told him I needed time to process and no, I wouldn't see him before he left town for work. But that I would talk to him when he got back...

We emailed for a couple of days... I called Brendan and asked him to meet me for dirty chai (he'd never tried it) that weekend. And he did.

And, again, we had a great time together. He told me his birthday was coming up the following week. And I called him out on how he tells me he'll call on a particular day and then doesn't. And that it's not okay. And he said he wouldn't do that anymore.

And I knew that the new guy had a date with someone else that night. I found myself wondering how it had gone. And I asked him. Because I wanted to be friends with him, right?

I went to bed and woke up to his response. He'd joked that he'd slept with her. And I didn't like that I felt a twinge of something when I read that. I was grateful that the next thing I read was that he'd been joking. But I was confused that I felt relieved.

Why did I care? I wasn't attracted to him. He can fuck whomever he chooses.

But I really, really liked him. And I must admit that I really, really appreciated that he pretty much really liked me. (He swore he wasn't in love with me. But that he was "smitten".)

And then something shifted. He went away for work. And it was like I was with him on that trip. He emailed often and texted and called me from hundreds of miles away. And he asked the greatest questions... Like about who my best friend is. And why was she my best friend? And I've been brutally honest with him, "Yes, if I had to choose today, I would say that we would be just friends... But I'm open to seeing you again... When we're not so nervous..."

And I love what he does for a living. It's something I admire. And he is really good at it. And I love that I'm never left wondering if he's thinking about me... Because he lets me know. And I have come to realize that I require that from someone I'm dating. I require daily contact. Even if it's just a text or something quick on a busy day. But that's not negotiable.

But I'd found Spree the day after I'd seen Brendan. And I bought it for him for his birthday. And I found a few other bits of perfection that he would totally love.

And on his birthday, I called him on my way to work. I got his voicemail, but left an adorable message.

I realized I was keeping my weekend free, hoping I would see him.

But then the new guy asked if I was around, and I found that I had decided I would see him on Friday night. I would wait til his kids went to bed and go see him. And we would keep it casual, and I would see how I felt about him when I was in his space. I felt like I wanted to be in control. And, I admit that I sensed that he would make himself available if I decided I wanted to see him. I made it very clear that he was not to ask me to have sex with him. Haha.

But then I didn't even hear from Brendan. I finally texted to ask if he'd gotten my voicemail. And he texted me right back and asked if he could call me Friday morning. After crying to TF, I responded adorably that he could (because it would be FRIDAY!! LOL.). She helped me decide that I wouldn't give him the other small gifts I'd purchased. But I could give him the card and the two rolls of Spree. Because that's small and cute.

I woke up Friday morning to an email sent from an airport from the new guy.

And Brendan didn't call.

And I found myself re-reading the Leon blogs. And seeing some major similarities.

So, I decided I would eat the Spree.

Fuck Brendan. I'm done.

And then I saw the new guy.

Eric.

And I was so much more comfortable with him. He served me wine (a zinfandel in a real zinfandel glass) and we just talked... And he told me that he never talks about his work. He just tells people he does government work. But he told me. And I find it utterly fascinating. And he talked about a celebration that is a few months away. And I found myself wanting to be a part of that. And then he told me he wants me to be a part of it. He'd asked me to bring my iPod because he wanted to hear what music I listen to. And I did. (This is pretty rare for me, actually, for some reason...)

And he asked me more questions and I told him about different friends and different relationships... I told him about how I'd been in a band several years ago and how much I miss it... He says I'm like an onion... That he wants to peel back the layers of me and that he is fascinated by the person I am... That there are so many facets to me.

And he's not running away, screaming. He doesn't seem to be intimidated by the gigantic personality that is RetroMama.

And then he told me he wanted to kiss me. And I let him.

And this time, I felt something. It was lovely.

And we just sat and held hands and hugged and talked and it was beautiful.

I got home at 1:30 in the morning... And I ate a red Spree.

Thing2

"...And I call them Thing One and Thing Two.
These Things will not bite you.
They want to have fun."
Then, out of the box Came Thing Two and Thing One!

I realized a couple of days ago that my skin cancer's back. I thought I might be mistaken, so I didn't say anything. But this morning, I was sure of it. So, I called the dermatologist and made an appointment for next month to have it checked out and removed.

And I'm so not freaking out. It's just a little SomeThing. Way smaller than last time. So, this one is Thing2.

But I found myself wanting to talk about it. And I didn't want anyone who loves me to freak out. Enter CJ. I had an appointment in his town this afternoon so I texted him and asked him if he was willing to meet me... "no awkwardness or expectations. just food." He actually responded that he couldn't tonight, but would love to another time. Was I available next week? I told him I wouldn't be in his town next week. Haha.

The only reason why I wanted to talk to him is that he doesn't exactly matter, you know?

But then I did tell a few friends. And reminded them that I am NOT freaking out. I'm not.

I am getting my zen back. I yoga'ed this morning for a bit before work. And had an awesome day with my kids. Answered my classroom phone and had a colleague say, "You sound so happy!" Yes, this on the day I admit I have cancer again. 'cause that's how I roll.

But then this evening... After a wonderful chat with my dad... Where I filled him in on all things RetroMama. Well, all things regarding dating. He was surprised I wasn't seeing Clark anymore. I didn't go into detail. Haha.

But it just kind of got me thinking... I ran into 23 last night. And he was so sweet. Asked how I was doing. Hugged me. And I realized that this kid totally thinks he's in love with me. And he's pining and shit. And that actually really bothers me. I never meant for that to happen. And last night when I was exhausted after my double-platelet donation, I found myself thinking about him as I drifted off to sleep... And how he probably wanted to stay with me those nights... And I never even allowed myself to consider that.

Then tonight, I was joking with an 18-year-old who works at a place I frequent. I was about to give him my number (we're going to be in the same place at some point this weekend and he wanted to make sure I would be able to find him) when this other customer kind of teased me about giving out my number to an 18-year-old. So I came back with my usual "they have to be old enough to at least sit at the bar with me," and he said I was being "cold". I said, "What? I have no problem with younger as long as they're at least 21. I have to draw the line somewhere." It was all funny and we all went on our way.

But then I came home. And I'm totally PMSing. Which gets me all sad and shit. (And there are no more brownies in the house. WTF was I thinking??!!??)

So, I find myself thinking about 23. (Shut up, you guys. You know who you are.)

And how that first time he came over, I was really struck by his maturity. This kid grew up out of necessity and is really responsible and has a grownup job in a grownup world. And he totally supports his younger siblings. At 23. Shit. I was married, but going to school full-time at his age.

But I wanted him to stop talking because that's not what he was there for, dammit.

And maybe it's because this week is the anniversary of the first time we met (ish). But I find myself remembering all of our interactions that came before. And that I liked him. He wasn't just a toy. But I shut off that other part because that was the deal we struck that day.

And I feel like I have to stick to that. And until yesterday, I thought that all he wanted was sex. But I think there's something more there. But we fucked it up already, right?

Crap.

I should not be allowed technology or to be out of the house at this time of the month. This was always when I broke up with Leon. Okay, I'm totally laughing now.

But my point is that I'm in a slightly vulnerable place right now. I find myself really wanting to make a connection with someone. No, not just anyone.

But tonight? When I spoke to my little boy and I know I have to tell him when I see him tomorrow that it's back (I have mad skillz at not freaking my kid out about stuff like that), I hung up the phone feeling so incredibly lonely.

I just really want a hug.

Because, apparently, I have some 'splainin' to do.

I wasn't trying to be a bitch. Honestly.

I'll explain about today, but first I want to make an observation.

Last year. November. Twilight. I went with TF. I had read the first two books at that point and then saw the first movie with TF. I was in the beginning stages of my breakup with HRT. And I was in agony over it.

Last night. November. New Moon. I went with TF. I've read all four books twice (but not recently) and then saw the second movie with TF. I am in the beginning (middle? end? LOL) stages of my breakup with Leon. And I'm in agony over it.

One major difference: I am not broken.

The situation with HRT is so much clearer now... I was such a mess that I was absolutely devastated by that breakup. Hell, I was such a mess that I got involved with that guy in the first place. He said he loved me early on and I totally fell for it. And it hurt so much to lose that. Of course, now I realize it wasn't love. On either of our parts. But it sure felt like it at the time.

And a year later... In the throes of this breakup... With a man I realize I love more and differently than any man I ever have before... And yet... I'm not broken like I was before. I hurt, sure. I cry, sure. (Today's the first day I haven't cried in a week. Mad skillz?) But I know that I am loved. By my friends. By my family. I know that I am worthy. Which, for some reason, a year ago, I doubted. And I do know that Leon loves me. And I'm pretty sure that his intentions for not being with me, while hurtful, are far more noble than HRT's reasons for not being with me.

And then there was today.

I've been somewhat ambivalent about this guy. We'd gone out three times already and decided to get together this afternoon to watch football. I was super-excited about this game and would have gone to watch by myself. Which would have made today turn out far differently, I'm sure.

The last time we had gone out was the day that I had called Leon to ask him to meet me the following week. Because I would be telling him I love him and shit. So, when I didn't particularly enjoy that date, someone told me I had been picking apart this guy because Leon had been on my mind. I wasn't certain that was the truth. But because Leon was an issue that day, I decided to give this guy another chance. Because maybe it was me that made him babble away about movies I'd never seen. And sports teams I don't follow. While I had thought the third date would get to a bit more of the nitty gritty, we didn't do that. And I called him out on it to an extent, but I was told not to give up on him because it could well be my own fault.

So, I met up with the guy for football today. We went to a favorite restaurant of mine and he asked me about New Moon last night. And I started to tell him my thoughts about the movie. And he interrupted me to tell me all about the reviews he'd read. But he hadn't seen the movie and he hasn't read any of the books. And I found that annoying. This morning, TF asked me if he reads. And I said he does, but not the kinds of stuff I read. This gave me pause. I left my husband because he doesn't read. I can't get involved with another guy who doesn't read. I just can't.

And then he was telling me about his evening on Friday night... And while he didn't come out and say it, I was 99% certain he'd been out on a date. Which doesn't bother me. I'm dating other people. But I think he should have come out and said it.

At halftime, the couple sitting near us left the bar and I asked if we could scoot over. That would leave me much closer to the television that was showing my game. So, we moved. And when I went to put my stuff down, this guy puts his hand on the barstool and says "This seat is taken." I stared at him because I was pretty sure he was full of shit, but his delivery was impeccable. We laughed and then sat down.

And this guy was talking to me way more than my date was. I had eaten a late breakfast with TF and her brother so I wasn't starving, but I shared an appetizer platter with my date. And then he got a meal. And then we shared dessert in the final quarter. We each got a drink (mine was cheaper since it was on draft. He drinks margaritas. Only.) and a soda.

So, "other guy" is asking me questions, getting to know me. Trying to draw my date into the conversation, but he wasn't having any of it. I was talking to "other guy", his friend, and the guy on the other side of them who was cheering for my team as well. "Other guy" graduated from my university. "Other guy" has a mom who is a teacher (and taught all over the continent!) and a dad who's a doctor. "Other guy" was quite clever and entertaining.

I kept reaching over to my date, placing my hand on his leg or rubbing his shoulder and he just wasn't responding. (Don't say it's because of "other guy". He'd been that way since I'd walked in.)

That was when I started wondering if it would be bad form for me to try to connect with "other guy". Exchange numbers or something. Not in front of my date, of course, but still. Something. Because I'm pretty sure my date isn't "the one". And I'm pretty sure he knows that too.

So, then I was really trying to ignore "other guy" because someone told me not to search for madness, heartbreak, and despair.

And then the bill came. And I offered to split it, fully expecting my date to insist upon paying more since he ate way more than I did. But, no. He let me split it. Which wasn't a big deal, but kind of the nail in the coffin for me. (He paid on our first date, and we've gone dutch, mostly, since. Or he's used gift cards to pay for most of whatever we did.)

Pretty sure "other guy" saw what happened. And he kind of made a face towards my date. Who didn't even notice because he was too enamored with the games.

As we got ready to go, my date went to wait for me outside as I went to the bathroom one last time. And "other guy" was totally going to the bathroom, too. He said, "I'm not following you," and I said, "Bummer."

I pee really fast, so I kind of dawdled, hoping I would run into him when I left. With my date outside, I could have been totally discreet.

But when I came out, I couldn't see "other guy". I walked slowly toward the exit and turned around at the last moment, and that's when I saw "other guy" walking out of the restroom. Crap. I didn't know where my date was, and I didn't know if he would have seen me already, so I couldn't exactly go back inside.

So, I met up with my date, and that's when "other guy" and his buddy walked out and passed us. We totally made eye contact, but there was nothing I could do. I walked with my date to his car so he could get a sweatshirt, and then he walked me to mine. He hugged me and kind of kissed me, told me he would totally distract me but that I needed to go home and write (not this blog. My novel. LOL). I'm just kind of thinking he's all talk and stuff, though. And I'm kind of over it.

And maybe it was bad form to start talking to another guy while I was on this date, but a connection is a connection. And I really enjoyed talking to that guy. Far more than I've enjoyed talking to this one. On any of our four dates.

::sigh::

Back to the drawing board, I guess. Well, I do still have a couple of other irons in the fire. Moving on...

RetroMama Kicks Ass.

I am feeling particularly kickass today. Well, not at this moment. But I did earlier this afternoon.

And yesterday.

A year ago, I took the kidlet to cb's birthday party. And I was in a bad place. I was in a place where I was about to get dumped by a guy who turned out not to be worth it anyway. My friends confiscated my technology, and got me kleenex when I burst into tears over the butterfly. I was fragile. Raw. And it would get a lot worse before it got better.

But yesterday, I took the kidlet to cb's birthday party. It was in a different venue. And it never even occurred to me until we were driving down there to wonder if I'd get to see some of the same people as last year.

The guest list was slightly different. Mostly cb's friends from school and extra-curricular activities. The family friends I'd hoped to see weren't there. I hung out with TF's folks and such. And as I sat there with TF's mom and cb's agent, I noticed CB's hot Cuban friend talking to him. Lovely. He doesn't have a kid. Why is he here? I haven't talked to him since two days after that amazingly hot kiss we shared several weeks ago... Which was after a wonderful couple of hours of him sobering up over coffee... Sharing confidences. But it wasn't the start of anything. It was just a moment. When I kissed him BACK. Contrary to what he continues to insist. Ugh.

A few minutes later, he approached us, hugging TF's mom, hugging me, saying hello... I pointed out the kidlet and said, "That one's mine. He does exist!" (Hot Cuban Friend had never actually met the kidlet, apparently.) They said hello and he went off somewhere else, and I got back to my conversation...

Awhile later, I approached HCF and CB and CB opened with "Is this going to be awkward? Should I leave so you guys can kiss?"

I laughed and as HCF and I embraced, I said, "I only kiss.... BACK..." And we all laughed. Awkward moment averted. Ish. LOL.

After dropping off the kidlet at his dad's (where I regaled the Ex with stories about explaining to the kidlet (in answer to his questions) that when the sperm comes out of his penis, it probably feels even better than when he has an erection, to which he replied with reverence... "Whoa... Cool!"), I headed home for a snack before driving to the theater where my uncle was performing. I went by myself. Because I can do that. With no problem.

I got home late, did some grading and slept in this morning.

And woke up in a major snit. Perhaps it was because I'd left my window open and what woke me was my neighbors talking really loudly, but there were other things that were getting to me too. TF got me calmed down via text, and once I wrote out my List of Three, I felt a thousand times better.

And then my Pea called... And we actually got to have a conversation that was longer than 5 minutes. And I was back in the game.

I went and got my oil changed. And no man (meaning The Ex or my Dad) had told me it was time. I just did it. And then I tried to shop for jeans, which was a bust, but I did manage to get a couple of cute tops.

And then I went to a bar/restaurant. To watch football. By myself.

And I sat down at the bar and ordered a cider (got carded, too! Whee!!) and some food and watched the game. And had conversations with strangers. And did a couple of fist bumps with the guy sitting two stools away. And we yelled and cheered (and my team won... Phew!), and I had a really good time.

And I hadn't ever done that before. I'd talked to IP about that. She totally does that kind of stuff by herself. And I never have. But I totally did. And I had a great time. I even stayed after my game ended to watch the end of another game that the chick next to me was into. Because she was so cool. And we chatted a bit and I told her how proud of myself I was that I was there by myself and how grateful I was to sit next to such cool people. She looked at me in awe and said, "I don't think I could ever do that. Just go by myself. That's really brave." And it hit me... That I was really brave...

Who is this RetroMama? This chick who goes to plays by herself? Who gets her oil changed without being told? Who goes to bars to watch football loudly? Who holds her own and can answer questions about what's happening with her favorite team?

Whomever she is... I kinda dig her.

RetroMama takes a lover...

It was about time... It was the valet. And I'm assuming he's back at school now. So, I can take friends to that restaurant without worrying about running into him.

Yep, I pretty much got exactly what I wanted. (Although, really... The kid talked FAR more than I was in the mood for...) We were safe (my choice, not his, apparently.), and it was lovely, and then he was gone.

And then there's Leon... With whom I was suddenly communicating with far more regularly than when we were actually dating... And I didn't know how comfortable I was with that. I thought we'd agreed not to talk for a couple of weeks until we saw each other. And then I was suddenly privy to much of what he's processing... And I wasn't quite sure I appreciated that. I'm not his girlfriend. I don't need to know his every little thought process about what could be life-altering decisions. (TF told me, "That's not necessarily stuff you'd tell a girlfriend, but it's definitely stuff you'd tell a best friend..." Great. Now E's doing the happy little "haha, I'm right!" dance. I can see it now. argh.)

But then there's the grabbing of the bull by its horns... That person I mentioned previously? The one from his present and my past? Yeah. I pretty much handled it. And while CoffeeLady played Devil's Advocate and asked me if I could deal with the potential repercussions, I realized that it had to be done. And I feel good about it. Finally. For real. If Leon has a problem with it, he'll have to get over it. Because I can't let myself have loyalty at this point for something that doesn't even have a start date.

Because all this time, I've thought that we did... Have a start date, that is... At some distant point in the future... And I've been all patient and shit... Like it doesn't matter how long it takes for us to end up together because I'm so certain that we will. So, these months in the meantime don't really matter. I can keep living my life and enjoying my kid and my friends and the occasional younger man to fill a particular void, and I'm good. And eventually, we'll fall in love and live some semblance of a "happily ever after"...

And then I got my kid back after three days... And we had amazing and lovely days together... And as I looked at him across the breakfast table yesterday morning, it hit me like a ton of bricks... I really don't want a relationship with any man right now... I mean, like, really.

I spoke to a friend a few weeks ago (a man) who told me that he never understood how women could put their kids first and not date for 18 or so years... And then he got custody of his teenaged daughter. And found himself in a position of having to make that decision for himself. And he finally "got it". And stopped dating a woman he'd been pursuing for a year.

And I totally get it... I don't want to be in a relationship that might throw this amazing thing I've got with my kid off-kilter.

The thing is, I know that living a full and rich life benefits my son in countless ways... And I know that I am a far better mother to him because I am feeling fulfilled when he's not with me.

But a relationship? Where there could be expectations? Demands of my time?

That's really not for me right now. Now, I did have this conversation with Leon months ago... That when I have my kid, I'm with him and only him. But that I could see someone a few times a week when he's not with me and maybe once during the week that I do have him. And Leon made it sound like that would be totally reasonable and acceptable. That any man should be okay with that.

And maybe it's because I'm still in a place where Leon's the only one I'm considering for anything longer-term and his schedule is pretty opposite of mine right now that I'm coming to this conclusion.

That I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to be in any kind of relationship other than being a mom to my son and a friend to my friends. That's it.

Oh, but I'm totally open to keeping a boy or two on the side... Because there are still other needs that must be met.

That's the conclusion I've come to in these last couple of days.

Which could be exactly what I need. Or it could just be the PMS talking.

::shrug::

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.

I'm like Dr Pepper.

Dr Pepper is one of those things people feel passionately about...

Nobody says "Dr Pepper? Oh, it's okay. I can take it or leave it..."

No. People either love it or they hate it. Ask around. Nine out of ten people will have a very definite opinion about Dr Pepper...

I'm like Dr Pepper. People either love me or they hate me. Nobody really says, "Oh, that RetroMama? Yeah, she's okay. I can take her or leave her..." And yes, that opinion can, apparently, change in a heartbeat.

And I'm okay with that... I'm a passionate person, so I expect people to react passionately about me and/or towards me...

Last weekend, I would be meeting up with TF and CB at the Improv... I found out after I'd bought my ticket that I would be the 5th wheel... They were going on a double-date, but I was totally welcome...

Um... Yeah.

I'd had a rough day and was texting back and forth with TF, who'd told me they'd managed to secure a table for four, but I was totally welcome to squeeze in... They were saving me squeezy space. I texted TF and told her she needed to be ready to do a shot with me, and she replied that she wasn't drinking.

Fuck.

I texted again and said, "Tell your friend she's going to have to do a shot with me..." And her reply made all of my fears ("TF and CB totally love and adore me all the time... Well, except when I'm being a total girl and obsessing over stupid shit... But they love me! They get my sense of humor and think I'm hilarious... They think my outrageousness is charming!! But what about their friends? What if they think I am annoying as fuck and can't stand me? And what if I end up totally making the whole evening awkward and then TF and CB no longer have another couple to hang out with???") go away... Because, yes... I'd had that conversation with myself in my head, but when TF responded with "She said she'll do a shot with you, but only if you squeeze her", I knew they were already hanging out with kindred spirits and I would fit right in...

And I did. And it fit. And it was wonderful. Good times, good times... Apparently, they like the Dr Pepper.

As do I... Especially the Cherry Dr Pepper that a certain Cat turned me on to... Something else to give up when I wean from the caffeine... Eesh. Haha.

The Cherry Dr Pepper got me out of my funk yesterday... I was kinda down about the anti-versary... It would have been 11 years. And that's a long time... And I started down a slippery slope, but allowed myself a good cry (lasted maybe 8 minutes?) and then moved on...

It's been a strange week for me... Lots of growth... Lots of signs and messages and stuff... And suddenly, I'm realizing that I'm learning to let go... And actually doing it... (I'm not saying I don't falter, but it's more like three steps forward and one step back instead of the other way around...)

And suddenly realizing that the Reason, Season, Lifetime thing??? Isn't necessarily always about me... That maybe it was ME... Who was in THEIR lives for a reason...

And when that reason is fulfilled, it's actually easier to let go...

Miles of Hills and ClaRiTy... Always good times... Tough times... But good times...

Being an open book isn't necessarily a bad thing... It's just part of my charm.

Love that about me or hate that about me... It's okay.

I'm just Dr Pepper.

FTW

I really have no business thinking I can do this stuff...

I have even less business saying it out loud...

And I most certainly have no business pulling it off.

And yet... I do.

I had decided to take on the Laguna Hills 1/2 Marathon for the first time. I'd been there cheering for others for three years, and this was my chance. Just because I train nearby, I thought I knew the course. Hell, turns out I didn't even know where the start line was!

I had pulled an all-nighter Saturday night. And had only napped for about an hour on Sunday... And didn't go to bed until about 10 on Sunday night.

On top of that, I hadn't been taking care of myself in the two days prior to the race. I might have forgotten to eat dinner on Saturday night before heading out to the ultra... And I hadn't gotten to eat breakfast other than the Starbucks I'd gotten on my way to the swap meet, and every free sample I could find that morning...

My stomach was not in great shape... I'd had a bit of the gas all day on Sunday and by Sunday night, everything pretty much exploded... My poor little butthole was raw... Stuffing a Tucks pad in there actually made it feel worse. I was not thinking that my race the next day would even happen, much less be a success. I lay down gingerly atop the covers, with my ass feeling like it was on fire and just thought cooling thoughts until I finally fell asleep...

I woke up Monday morning at 4:15 or so, and started getting ready... I didn't dare try to poop.

I had decided to wear the shoes I'd bought the day before. And new socks. And my new sports bra. At the last moment, I changed my mind about the socks and the sports bra. But the shoes were new. And I knew this was against the rules... I'd also stashed some new gels in my hydration pack... Another broken rule...

But I found that I wasn't really looking at this as a race... I was looking at it as a training run... A chance to really kick off my training for the 50-miler I'm doing in the fall... And because I'd hung out with Ultramarathoners just the day before, I decided to really be like them and not take the shuttle back to my car after the race... I could add another 1.5 that way! (Turns out it was actually 2.)

There was so little traffic that I actually began to worry that I had slept the entire day away and it was really Tuesday. No backup at the exit off of the freeway... I was not even two hours before the start and yet it was eerily empty. I knew this race wasn't huge, but I hadn't realized just how small it really would be... And then realized that when there's race day registration, it's a pretty small race. LOL.

I sat in my car, staying warm... Ended up chatting with Zabba and Facebooking for a bit... She helped me finalize my plan for walking back to my car after the race... I ate some Sports Beans and drank some water...

Finally, I went to use the porta-potty and then ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich... I met up with a TNT pal and caught up a bit... He said he was just going out to have fun, since he'd done no more than 2 miles so far this season... I said I was kicking off my training... His jaw dropped and he repeated slowly, "Kicking off training with a half-marathon? Wow." And I'd done about 7 miles the day before in the wee hours of the morning.

We helped a couple of people attach their D-Tags, and then headed into the corral. It was the first time I'd ever not gone out of my way to be at the back of the corral...

We were in the perfect spot for the National Anthem, and I was crying pretty hard, thinking about the people who sacrifice so much for my freedom, and especially missing the Chief...

And then the gun went off and I was off and running...

And running...

And running...

And walking and running...

I ran farther than I'd ever run before. I played little games with myself to get myself to run just a bit farther than I thought I could before allowing myself a walk break. And I never faltered. Well, once I faltered. But I still prevailed.

I was actually inspired to write another mile-by-mile, which I haven't done in ages... (For those of you new to my blogging, I used to post a mile-by-mile blog for every race I did... Just different things I saw and thought during each mile...) I may actually get around to it...

But a few things that stand out in my mind are as follows:

I hit the Mile 5 marker and the volunteer yelled "One-Oh-Three!" And I thought, "Wait. What???!!! 1:03?? I usually hear or see that number at Mile FOUR... Not five... Holy crap, I am on fire..."

And then I finally saw the place where I used to stand and cheer... And I looked down below to the bike path where we would move after we saw our friends at that first spot... And it wasn't until I made a few quick turns before I realized that I had had no clue as to the hell those runners had endured during the four miles in between sightings....

But then I did it. And I came out on the other side... And I tried new gels and fell in LOVE with one of them... And every chance I got, I jumped OFF the bike path to run in the dirt... Hopping over plants and rocks and stuff... It was great fun.

And I kicked ass. And I finished strong. And I crossed that finish line with a new Half-Marathon PR... Nearly six minutes faster than my previous PR, set on a flat, fast course 19 months ago... A lifetime ago...

And then I got my stuff and walked uphill 2 miles back to my car to finish it off...

Every rule I broke on that race course was a risk that worked out in my favor... Recovery, however, has not been sweet... I did the electrode thing for 24 minutes and they made it sound like my muscles would be all better... So, I walked the 2 miles to my car and drove to TF's house...

Where I decided I could afford to skip the ice bath.

That was not a wise choice... CB does awesome BBQ and I enjoyed the meal and the company (and the shower!)...

But when I got up to yoga on Tuesday morning, I found that I could barely touch my toes... And I pretty much hobbled around all day as though I'd done at least a full marathon the day before...

This running stuff is pretty hard when you first get started, apparently...

And I need to have a bit more respect for the distance I ran...

A half-marathon isn't something I'm good enought yet to sneeze at... Especially when I do it in the middle of a 22-mile weekend.

Noted.

Pulling an All-Nighter.

When I was in college, I worked in a nightclub. I made more money than I should have at the age of 22 by serving drinks in very little clothing... If I didn't work happy hour, my shift generally started at 9 or 10. I would nap before work and then get all cute for my shift. I rarely got home before 3:30 in the morning...

Last night I napped for about an hour in the early evening... And left at about 11:45 to drive out to where there was an UltraMarathon happening... I got there at about 12:30 and looked for LT. Turns out he was napping. He'd been feeling ill and was taking a break...

It ended up being better for me... By that hour, most people still on the course were walking... Just my speed... I was trying out my new Injinji socks (sorry about making you google, k2b!) under a pair of Wright socks. I wanted to try out my new headlamp... So, I did... I did a lap with a small group, and then jumped in with this guy who had just completed his first 50-miler ever. He'd never gone further than 36 miles, so every step he took was setting a new PR. I walked with him for several loops... He tended to slow down on his own.

I spent a lot of time in the barn, just watching, listening, helping out when I could, calling out encouragement to the smaller and smaller field of athletes... I learned so much about footwear, moleskin, socks, nutrition, gaiters, etc... It was overwhelming...

I had planned to just stay a couple of hours, but then LT woke up and seemed surprised that I was leaving "already"... (Hey, you were sleeping for the first two hours I was there! LOL!)... I stayed... I would have liked to see the finish, but I did get to see someone complete his 100-mile goal...

I ended up staying until I needed to leave to meet my Girlz for some swap meet fun... And I was loopy. Stupid. The Starbucks barista laughed at me because I couldn't seem to formulate the word "run". Yep. I was having difficulty articulating that little one-syllable word.

And I was sober.

I bought two pairs of trail shoes today. And another pair of street shoes. I'm testing out some new nutrition, and I'm going to mess with my socks on longer mileage and see what really works for me.

I am breaking every "race day" rule for tomorrow... Because 13.1 is just a training run. I'm trying out a few new things...

And I'm excited about finally getting to participate in tomorrow's race... For the last three years, I've been a spectator, a cheerleader. Tomorrow's my turn.

And another big race changed the date so that's major competition for my race. Which means all the potential cheerleaders for me won't be around. Because they'll be at the other race.... Which is cool. I was kinda bummed, but I'm just going to get out there tomorrow and see what I can do.... And then go hang with TF who actually got everything on my list. Whee!

I'm excited... I'm upping the mileage and feeling good so far... I'm going to be smart about this... Looking at race schedules... Wondering if I really need to try the Big Bear Marathon. (Elevation kills me, and the 50-miler isn't nearly the elevation I was worried about...) Hmmm... Maybe I should contemplate this after a good night's sleep... And a quick little race.... With a kick-ass playlist...

;)

And in the "eerie little connection" (aka "only in MY world", aka "OF COURSE!") genre:

The RD for last night's ultra showed me the beer that he'd stocked for those runners who completed 100 miles... It was from a brewery I know... In a town 75 miles away... Because it's next door to the coffeehouse where I completed my first novel.

As I was typing, I got word that LT completed 101 miles... And finished only 10 miles behind the winner... And that's with that 3-hour nap he took around midnight... (I was stunned at the sub-10s he was pulling at 4 in the morning!)... I congratulated him on getting his beer, which was, apparently, a surprise to him...

A hundred miles in 24 hours... Wow.

I don't think I'm THAT crazy... I'm only doing 50. In about 20 hours or so.

Okay, rambling. Need sleep. Goodnight.

Everything I'd planned for... And more.

One reason I left my marriage is because of the traveling thing. The desire to share with my son a bit more than just our own little corner of the world. Not that our little corner of the world isn't amazing... But there's so much more to it...

And I'm actually doing it.

I've already set aside the money for our Thanksgiving trip. To the Grand Canyon. TF orchestrated it, but the check is ready. Because I've made sure of it.

Yesterday, I took him for his first train ride... He was smart enough to ask if we'd pass SM's house, and we totally did! And recognized it.

I'm nervous enough about taking the train. I can do planes. I can drive. But the train stresses me out. I've missed a train before. Because I was on the wrong side of the track (pun intended? Ish?)... And I stood between two trains and nearly got on the wrong one as I watched mine leave... Luckily, another train would come through an hour later, and I would be with my parents (both of them!) not long after the original schedule... I think I was pregnant at the time. I remember telling my dad not to talk to me until I'd eaten... My mom was really great about it.

That was just one of many memories I had while taking the train with my son. And, of course, I was caught up in remembering that one time I smuggled the pussy on the train... What? I'd smuggled a kitten for the HRT! And, of course, the kidlet remembered the time he dropped me off at the train station with the kitten... And decided to ask all kinds of questions about what happened to Marshmallow... Ugh. LOL!

But it's stressful enough for me. With only moments of a stop, you gotta get all your stuff and get on the train! And I'm always afraid to sleep on the train. Scared to miss my stop.

Add a small person to the mix... And I was the only one responsible for him... I had to carry my purse, his booster seat, the bag o' stuff I brought to keep us occupied on the train, a few things we needed to put in the car we were picking up, AND keep a handle on him.

And he's asking a bazillion questions, and I'm just trying to breathe... As my heart is racing and my palms are sweating... Okay, the rest of me was sweating too. It was hot!

But we made it onto the train... And somehow ended up on the first-class car... And didn't get kicked off. And it was a lovely trip...

And my dad picked us up at the other end... With the car he was giving to me... (I'm selling the minivan because it's rather embarrassing to be a single mom of one and driving a vehicle meant for SEVEN... lol.) He'd bought a new car and I'll pay him for the CRV when I sell the van... Which will happen this week. There's this awesome lady I spoke to today who's totally excited about it.

And my dad noticed my knitting in my bag... And questioned it... "You're knitting now?"

And it just really hit me that I am becoming this whole other person... She was just waiting to be in a place where she could try new things...

Yes, I'm now a person who knits... Well, ish. LOL. And I'm a person who takes her son on the train. And to the Grand Canyon. And to dinner with her ex-husband and his grandmother.

And I'm going to be a person who completes a 50-mile UltraMarathon. On a hard-core trail.

Stunningly, my dad was totally supportive about it. (He'd given me a hard time the last time I decided to do an Ultra. Actually, I'd only told him I was doing 26.2. I hadn't exactly trained. So, he was worried...)

Another person who was supportive was M. Didn't seem to think I was crazy at all. And he had even mentioned postponing his annual hunting trip for later in the season so I could do my favorite race of the year... (Which I'm not doing so I can do this trail run instead.)

I guess it's easier for him to be kind now that he doesn't feel like he has to. *shrug*

Mass amounts of ClaRiTy in recent days... So much I haven't much felt like blogging, actually. I finally asked the few friends who are still in touch with the HRT to never talk to me about him again. I will try not to ask, as well... It wasn't even the HRT I was upset about in those moments... But one of the Mean Girls from last summer.... Whom I respected enough to share what was going on with k2b. But she was a bitch (which I should have expected, but still gave that chance).

And I realized that while I would still rejoice over successes and happinesses, and I would still step up when things got tough (a text to the HRT when a friend of his passed away went unanswered, but I was still a person who sent it), these people simply don't care. They are simply not evolved enough to be able to send Light and Love to a third party because they're still so caught up in sending negativity towards me.

And then I found out that the same Mean Girl who was a bitch had something scary happening in her world... And for a moment, it gave me pause... Should I email her? Ask a mutual friend about it?

Ultimately, I decided to send some Light and some Love and nothing else.

And that's when I realized I've been waiting for some of them to step up... Because I know they got the memo about a friend who's been in the hospital for months and is probably going to actually die this time... And they don't care enough to say anything to me... And it finally hit me...

That it's okay....

It's okay for them not to say anything... That even though I am a person who would still want to know because I still care, they are not like me... And if they don't want to know the joys in my world, I don't need for them to know the tragedies either.

And I finally figured out how to delete phone numbers from my SIM card... And those last saved text messages... The ones to remind me of pain and horribleness (my blog. My words. I make 'em up. Deal with it.)... I finally deleted those, too...

I'm ready to actually let go... I was holding onto the bad so that I wouldn't be tempted to let them back in at some point... But I was finally able to let it go... Secure in the knowledge that I won't actually ever let them back in.

As I'm evolving into the woman I'd said I wanted to become, I'm actually finding more and more about me that I'm happy about...

I'm proud of myself for following through on stuff... I'm proud of myself for learning new things... I'm proud of myself for taking on new challenges... I'm proud of myself for providing for my son.

I'm grateful for being open to the people who tell me the hard things... I'm grateful for not being the materialistic girl that some pegged me to be...

My "new" car has far fewer bells and whistles than the minivan... I'd joked that the lack of a CD player was a dealbreaker to my dad... And then said I would buy myself one... But I don't actually seem to need it at this point. And I mentioned that it's weird not to have a remote to unlock the doors. I actually have to put the key in the lock. And a friend said she couldn't handle that. And I shrugged and said, "It's a Honda that will keep me and my son from being stranded somewhere. He's old enough to be patient while I unlock the doors."

I'm truly a person who is learning to be happy with what she actually has.

And today, I like that about me.

Elijah can't Come without a Purple Rabbit.

Alternate Title: Manifest This!

Alternate Title 2: Don't rain on my parade.

So, the girl who spent Thanksgiving with her SoulMate in March is now the girl who might have had a Seder on Wednesday or Thursday like all the good Jewish families, but in true SoulMate style, scheduled it for Saturday instead.

The plan was formed a few weeks ago... I was dreading Easter. Dreading not being with my son. I would have had him for the entire Spring Break, but Easter is his dad's holiday. Not mine. But I would miss playing the role of Bunny for both my son and his cousins.

Being the proactive chick I am, I made a plan with the SoulMate. She was feeling the empty nest syndrome since all the people who had been staying with her (prompting the March Thanksgiving) would be gone and she wanted me to spend the night in her guest room. Everybody would win if I stayed with her last night and spent Easter morning with them. I would be going to TF's later that afternoon. SM decided to make it a party, and would also ask her friend, Ben (not his real name) to join us... Had I met Ben?

Um, hello? I mentioned him in the Thanksgiving blog... The maker of amazing cranberry sauce? The really comfortable hug? Yeah, since Thanksgiving, I've had it all figured out. He has (in my fantasies) become the yin to my yang. The one with whom I would spend the rest of my life. I'd actually asked her about him in an email, (because, of course, with my luck, his fabulously gorgeous wife couldn't join us for Thanksgiving because she was working on her dissertation for her Ph.D. or stuck in the lab on the verge of curing cancer or something equally as worthwhile), just a casual "So, what's Ben's story?"

When she'd answered that email, she said nothing about Ben. I, of course, decided that she absolutely loves me and loves Ben, but she knows that I've got a few holes in my boat right now, so perhaps she didn't want to subject Ben to the mayhem that has been me over the last year or so?

Right.

Anyway, during the course of planning the Seder party (and I've decided that this will be the night that he will look into my eyes and decide he wants to ask me to dinner (what? I'm starting off small here... We've got the rest of our lives, so we can take it slow)), she says, "Oh, yeah. You asked me about Ben... I meant to tell you..."

My heart pounding, I knew what was coming... He's asked about me. He wants to spend time with me. He felt that connection and wants to spend the rest of his life with me too?

Um, yeah. No. He's gay.

Of course he's gay!!!

Well, pressure's off. Now I don't have to worry about shaving my legs. Whee!

Fast-forward to yesterday.

I decided to buy a table. I had finally realized they simply don't make tables in the shape I want. Everybody told me to get a round table, but I really wanted a square table... I finally realized I would end up settling for a round table and was becoming okay with it... And then last week, I found the EXACT table I'm looking for. AND, they custom build them so I would get to truly make this table (and the chairs!) my own.

Driving to the furniture store, I called the one I'd thought was worthy of the dinner several weeks ago (thank goodness he has a girlfriend now and I don't have to worry about dating him anymore!) and told him how excited I was about buying a table, and hadn't we shopped for a dining room table for him several years ago???

And then he asked how much I was spending, so I told him. And he was all, "Oh, wow. That's a lot." Um, look, asshole, I'm not in the same situation as you are. I didn't just graduate college with a degree in something that was one of the first professions to take a hit in the recession, and I've been saving. So, you don't get to make me wonder if I'm making the right choice.

Because I am.

But it's kind of hard to get that level of excitement back when someone dashes some cold water on it. Eesh.

I did manage to get the excitement back... I ordered the table that is perfect for me. AND it was on sale. AND they paid the sales tax. So, screw you, not-so-worthy one. I won't be cooking for you again. You won't get to sit at the fabulous table. So there. Ha.

And then I made it to the SoulMate's home... With lots of wine. Which we proceeded to drink. In mass quantities. Luckily, I'd forgotten my phone charger and so I was cautious about the technology, so I don't think I was totally annoying or anything via the BlackBerry. (Although, SM's husband told me he was slightly distracted by the red light blinking from my bra... Haha)

We were well into the second bottle of wine by the time we finally sat down to dinner... I'd already told Ben all about the big plans I'd had for our future and he was totally great about it and told me if only I had more hair on my chest, I could have been perfect for him as well. He'd brought this amazing cheese (and more wine!) and we were all giddy by the time we sat down... The table was beautifully set with all of the traditional Seder bits but of course, we ended up using the stack of Haggadahs for a trivet for the amazing broccoli dish...

And as we drank and ate, no subject was taboo... Including vibrators, meeting men, "holes in his boat" and the gem we came up with about how "we don't have holes in our own boats, we just have holes in our oars..." And then SM spilled Elijah's cup of wine... And as we frantically tried to soak up the purple stain, someone said, "But now Elijah can't come!" And someone else said, "He could if he had a purple rabbit!"

Why, yes. My soul circle does talk about the prophet like that... Good times.

Later, I would collapse on SM's bed and pat her and talk with her while she drifted in and out before launching myself off the bed and draping myself over the toilet in their sons' bathroom... I felt hands on my forehead, pulling my hair back and then the sweet relief of the damp and cool washcloth on my cheeks... It was minutes before I realized it wasn't SM. It was her husband. Who even went into my suitcase and found my toothbrush as I sat with my back to the tub and rested my head on its edge...

I can't believe I threw up. That hasn't happened in awhile. And SM's husband took such good care of me... So sweet.

This morning was a lazy morning. SM and I had some toast, and I entertained her boys while she and I chatted and cleaned up from the night before... And there was a bottle of wine that had gone missing and neither of us remembered having opened it... After looking in the downstairs refrigerator, of course, we found it in the recycling. We pretty much had killed four bottles between the four of us. And Ben couldn't have had very much since he was okay to drive home.

Whoa.

I had promised Ben to get SM out of the house for some grown-up girl time, so we went out for some coffee and just chatted and such... And we talked about how I'm figuring out what I'm not looking for... So, we decided it's time to start manifesting what I am looking for in a potential mate.

I've got it mostly figured out. And I'm back to believing he's out there. So, I'm working on a new mantra. And back to manifesting with purpose...

And then TF asked me where I was because they were waiting for wine... I brought it and they all drank it... I drank water. And enjoyed every last drop.

After dinner, TF taught me to knit. Which I'm pretty excited about... I'm making something for someone for that Pay it Forward project over on FB... And I'm really excited about it. And proud of the small progress I made this evening...

And we started with the plans for Thanksgiving... The one in November. The one I decided to fight for... And the husband-guy reminded me why I'm glad we're not going to be married anymore. Not intentionally, I'm sure, but I was sure glad TF took my ranting phone call so I could get it off my chest...

And then my dad came up with this plan to help me out, and I just love him for it...

So, it's back to work tomorrow... After an amazing week with the Kidlet... Surrounded by Light and Love and reminders of what I don't want...

And with CB's observation still ringing in my brain... "She's such a strong woman, but she kind of falls apart when it comes to talking to boys..." But he asked me "what's the worst that could happen?"

So, I will focus on that. And put myself out there. Because what's the worst that could happen? Certainly not anything worse than anything I've already been through... And I'm stronger now. Therapized and shit.

Time to manifest what I can accept and what I actually want...