losing faith.

lately i’ve been bombarded with stories about cheaters/liars/jerkface boys. it makes me so so sad.

‘i want so badly to believe that there is truth and love is real’

i don’t understand. what’s the point of being in a relationship if you’re gonna cheat and lie and run around? if that’s what you wanna do, go be single! i just don’t get it.

in all fairness, i’ve been guilty of boyfriend borrowing. it wasn’t intentional. and i was young. and selfish. and very, very different. now, i know better. (read: got a taste of my own medicine and it was BITTER!)

in any case, i don’t condone cheating. or lying (unless it’s absolutely necessary. for instance: no, i’ve had those boots forever! i didn’t just buy them yesterday during my lunch break).

one (read: several) of my ex-boyfriends think it’s okay to text me obscene comments about umm…you know…the ‘stuff’ (mom, dad, and current boyfriend: i have NEVER done anything inappropriate, not till i’m married, i promise!) anyway, it’s gross. pathetic. and really really sucky for their new girls. at one point i may have found it flattering. i mean, i love the idea that my exes are all sitting at home crying over losing the best thing they ever had. but now, i just feel horribly for their new girlfriends. and of course it sends me down the whole ‘was he doing this while we were together?!’ path. and that road is just ugly. so, i’m staying off it.

but seriously, all the stories about liars and cheaters make me sick to my stomach. and make me want to never get married or trust anyone. it’s sad.

please world, stop making me sad.

this is the fear, this is the dread, these are the contents of my head.

i’m suffering from massive blogger’s block. at this point, i have seven half-written blogs. i can’t bring myself to finish them. i’m not sure what my malfunction is…if i had to hazard a guess, i’d say it’s a bad case of the crazies mixed with a little wanderlust.

i battle the crazy on a daily (read: minute by minute) basis.

the fact is, i’m completely neurotic, often anxious, and get caught up in these insane hypotheticals that i invent in my own head. i don’t know why i’m sharing this. i don’t know why i share most of the things i do…especially since i’m not really a fan of sharing. ask my mom. (about my inability to share, not about what a head case i am)

don’t get me wrong. i mean, i think i’m fabulous, but i recognize that even in all my amazing-ness – there is room for improvement. let’s not get too deep here though, that’s a different topic for another day. i just spent the better part of the morning trapped in my head over-analyzing something that i just need to let go.

apparently, ‘letting go’ for me somehow translates to ‘i need a vacation’ (just go with it). and so i’m sitting here…thinking/plotting/planning where i’d like to go. and then i realize: it doesn’t matter where you go, honey. you gotta take all your crazy with you.

so, for now. i’m staying put. in my head.

watch out, world. (read: poor, sweet boyfriend who has to put up with me)

race to the altar.

i was thinking today…about past relationships. and the whole contest thing. you know what i’m talking about: the ‘i’m so much happier without you and i’m in love and he’s so much better than you’ thing. it’s a contest. sure, we don’t admit it. or really talk about it…but it is. and if your ex-boyfriend gets married before you, then you lose. (yeah yeah, put aside all that marrying the right person crap. blah blah. i KNOW! clearly, i know. still single, remember?!) anyway, even less talked about is the whole race among girl friends. of course we all want our best pals to be happy. and blissfully so. but i won’t lie and say i didn’t relate to kim kardashian’s (self-indulgent) temper tantrum as her younger sister lived out her wedding dream. (albeit, khloe married a laker not a saint. tomato. tomatoh.)

wrong timing. wrong guy. wrong state. wrong ring. wrong, wrong, wrong. i know (without a doubt) that i’d rather be single than with the wrong guy. the fact is, i don’t believe in divorce and i’d rather spend eternity alone than with someone i’m not completely crazy about. but sometimes (read: very recently since turning 29), i wonder…why not me? why hasn’t it happened for me yet?

and then, i remember: i’m exactly where i’m supposed to be. sharing my thoughts in a very public diary and thus ensuring that it’ll be a long long time before it’s my time. and i’m okay with that. most of the time.

sticks and stones.

let’s be honest. (i always am. well, mostly always) sticks and stones can hurt and all, but it’s the words of the people i care about that really stay with me. and that really have the power to bruise. or heal. or make you fall in love. or cause you to fall out of love. or break your heart. or stop the pain.

they’re magic. and everyone knows, magic isn’t always good.

words are powerful. anyone who says they’re not is:

a) silly
b) wrong
c) a bad writer
d) possibly all of the above

exhibit a: words of encouragement

i heard a story last night. it was about me. my cousin’s boyfriend was telling me about a story my dad had told him. my pop-sicle said that he would’ve given up his fight with cancer after his massive surgery if it hadn’t been for me. my dad said that the moment i crawled into his hospital bed and said ‘please don’t give up,’ he knew he had to hang on.

exhibit b: words of inspiration

see exhibit a. (yes, this one was just filler. so what? it’s my world. i make the rules around here.)

exhibit c: words of wisdom

don’t spit into the wind. (thanks, jim croce)

one of the best pieces of advice i’ve ever received came from one of my very best friends (yes, i’ve mentioned it before, but it really bears repeating). the advice came at the perfect time for me. i was 23. engaged (i’ll tell you about it later). living in kansas (you don’t even want to know). and terribly unhappy. i missed my friends. i missed my family. and i missed my independence. she said that we only get 80-some years to do all the things we want in life and considering we were already a quarter through, we didn’t have time to waste in unhappy situations. she was right. i wasn’t happy. and i deserve to be. we all do. so, i cut my losses. called off a wedding. and came home. on my little bravery kick, i also told my dad i had a tattoo. i actually have two, but i only told him about the one that he could potentially see 😉

exhibit d: song lyrics

i love music. i love how it can cheer me up. make me sad. make me dance. make me cry. make me miss someone. make me happy they’re gone. make me wish they’d never left. (music holds it’s own magic, but the lyrics…that’s what we’re discussing today, kids)

sooo many to mention. so, i’ll touch on a personal favorite. since it incorporates several of my favorite themes (fantasy, creativity, love ~ if you must ask): ‘if you weren’t real, i’d make you up. now.’ so simple. so true. and damn, i wish i’d wrote it! i’m so tickled at the thought of bringing ‘him’ to life, except guess what?! he’s real! ahh, bliss.

exhibit e: words from the heart (my personal favorite)

this one can encompass all the aforementioned categories. this is the one i look forward to when i get a birthday card, a letter, a phone call, a text (don’t laugh. i’ve fallen in love based on witty texts).

boys, if you’re gifted with words (you know who you are). please write. and even if you’re not, try. because we love it. because we eat it up. and because it makes us love you. trust me.

words: they’re my kryptonite.

all you need is: love?

according to charlotte york (if you don’t know who she is, stop reading immediately. i won’t make sense to you) you only get two great loves of your life. i like it when people apply tangible things, like: numbers. to intangible things, like: love.

cue: emotional mind.

love. it’s like magic, only better. cuz it’s real. right? i mean, i can’t touch it, but i can feel it. i can’t see it, but i can show it. in any case, (in the wise wise words of the monkees) i’m a believer.

pop culture has successfully influenced me. year after year of sappy romantic comedies, angsty pop music, and dramatic tv shows has convinced me. true love CAN exist. (although, if the latter is any indication, eventually he’ll sleep with my best friend. and probably my mom. who was once thought to be dead. but she isn’t now. and through it all, i have perfect hair. you know what? let’s scratch tv shows from the list. they aren’t sending the right message AT ALL) anyway, i digress…let’s just assume it’s true what they’ve been feeding us: we too can have perfect movie (the notebook)/song (just the way you are) LOVE.

i want so badly to believe that it’s true. so, when i fall in love, i fall HARD. i fall for real. and i fall completely. people find this hard to believe because of my confident, self-assured, independent, and witty (read: often insecure, sometimes jealous, reformed clingy girlfriend and really just dorky) persona.

don’t get me wrong, i’ve had my share of heartbreaks (summer of sin 2005, anyone?). i’ve given up too soon, i’ve held on too long. i’ve been unforgiving, i’ve been too forgiving. i’ve given too much, i’ve taken more than my share. i’ve told lies, i’ve been too honest…yet i’ve never given up hope. while i don’t subscribe to the soulmate theory, i DO believe that there is someone special out there for each one of us. someone who can help us fulfill our dreams, compliment our personalities, make us laugh, make us think, challenge us to be better individuals, give us butterflies AND get us off (sorry baba)… we all have the ability to find someone who can make us happy, REALLY (i can’t get this grin off my face cuz i’m so super in love) happy.

finding your someone is no easy task. it is difficult. it is trying. and sometimes, just when you think things are going great, you’re completely blindsighted by a breakup. a breakup that feels like it’s physically hurting you…you lose your appetite, you can’t sleep, you cry nonstop, you can’t understand WHY?!, you talk about him to anyone who will listen, you pretend to be better, you leave the house, you put on makeup, you dance with other boys, you laugh, you flirt, you see him with another girl. you get blackout drunk. you lose your nose ring. puke. wash. rinse. repeat.

through it all though, we can’t seem to stop trying. and we can’t seem to give up or stop believing for one second that our someone (or someones, as the case may very well be) is out there.

sorry char, but you can’t quantify love. it isn’t rational. it just isn’t. it doesn’t always make sense. but it feels amazing. and it’s magical…and for that, i’m still willing to walk face-first into the dark and pray that maybe somehow, this time it’ll work out. (fingers crossed, here’s hoping!)