Never was a Cornflake Girl…

Posts Tagged ‘loneliness

I want to write lately but just can’t seem to make myself.  In two weeks I’ll be moved out.  I feel lonely but oh well, that’s all just part of it.  It’s scary but staying is scarier.  This song is fitting:

A Better Wife
Erin McKeown

i’m just something else he tried
a catalogue of interests in a catalogue of lives
i hid myself from him, i wouldn’t say it was a lie
but hiding worked its way into the way we lived our lives

it was clear that he was troubled
he had trouble with his pride
but i could never tell if the fault was his or mine
so i drew myself away, i wouldn’t say i left behind
a man who would never know the man he was inside

in a moment he was gone, i could see that he had died
by the quickening of blood and the fluttering of eyes
so i held him to my breast like all the better wives
who furnish men with love and never leave their side

i’m just something else he tried
the salt that’s left behind after tears have dried
and I suppose that i’ll go on, after all it was my life
and all that i supposed i held has come to be untied 

I need a pick-me-up. Last year at this time I was equally emotional, so maybe it’s just a birthday thing. I don’t know… my husband called me a name when he was half-asleep last night.  He also went through my phone like a crazy person – again – while I was in the shower and I hate that. I know that this crap has something to do with the way I feel. He came home from work a few minutes ago and apologized so I guess I should feel better, but I don’t. I just cried and told him I’ve never felt lonelier in my entire life. Then I felt crappy for confiding in him because I don’t want to even look at him right now.

And I feel crappy for confiding in you, whoever you are that reads this, because it would be nice to have someone who understands me. I don’t think that’s possible. The only one who may doesn’t have a computer and hates talking on the phone. Not that I’d even know what to say to her.

I’ve talked to a lot of friends in the past week that make me feel great – make me feel like I’m really proud to be me, because some people might have a lot of people that speak to them or say hi but I have a lot of great friends who would do anything for me, and are genuinely happy to see me. So I must not be a horrible person like I think, right? Horrible people don’t have such good friends.

Church is another thing that makes me happy. I felt like I really belonged this past week, too, and I’ve made wonderful friends there who care about me. When I’m with them, I feel like I have a lot to contribute to a discussion, and that feels good. I also feel like I have a lot to learn from the Universe, and that feels good, too – to not have everything figured out. Because if I had everything figured out at this point, I’d be pretty pessimistic about it all.

So Beth had a blog challenge a few weeks ago that I never fulfilled. She asked everyone to write a short narrative describing themselves, kind of a “Who Am I?” thing. So here’s mine, it’s going to be my pick-me-up for the day:

I’m a not-so-perfect girl. I’ve always lived in Mississippi, which I hate because it’s conservative but love because it’s hot. I hate cold weather and love the stars. I’m a Unitarian Universalist, agnostic, secular humanist. I’m spiritual and religious but definitely not a Christian. I’m a mother of two and sometimes can’t believe that. I’m an adventurer and lover of all things spontaneous and/or dangerous. I’m a liberal democrat who loves politics and sometimes gets too wrapped up in things. You may think I’m taking something too seriously, but I am very rarely serious. Remember that. Because I’m very rarely 100% serious it is sometimes hard for me to take other people seriously. I hope that’s not a problem.

I try to let Love guide my actions but I’m quick to anger and will say anything that comes into my head. I throw the word “Love” around a lot because I think people are too hesitant to use it most of the time. I love a lot of things: laughing so hard it hurts, the smell of gardenias and riding around the Refuge, navigating through traffic on the expressway, taking way too many pictures, making people smile, acting silly, taking chances, saying outrageous things, wiping Nate’s face again, acting surprised when I’m not, people-watching, writing in my journal. I love MUSIC, especially Tori Amos, or anyone who can wail on a piano. I love midtown and coffee, and coffee in midtown!

I love buying (used) books I’ll never finish, rollerball pens, reading to my kids, holding hands, singing loudly and off-key, *HUGS*, getting messy – preferably with dirt or paint or both. I love watching movies – but I hate trite Hollywood bullshit, especially romantic comedies, and prefer indie films and documentaries. I love hating things mainstream people love, like the stupid sitcom Friends (fuck off that show blows), I love saying “fuck” or any variation of that, sex and saying taboo things about it, learning and saying off-color things in different languages, road trips, the smell of marijuana, dark lagers, karaoke, dancing, eggplant and feta sandwiches, sext messages, patchwork skirts, young hot country boys, nag champa, taking long power-walks and sweating out the dirty thoughts, my dog, brushing my kids’ hair, painting Jade’s fingernails, poetry, holding either of my kids while they fall asleep, having a goatee rub my neck, being invited anywhere, and I love each of my friends intensely for their unique and beautiful qualities. … There tons of other things I love…

I don’t hate a lot. I do hate the sluggish economy, conservative people, being aggressively witnessed to, feeling avoided or ignored, and most republicans. I hate conservative boys who act like they’re hot shit when I secretly know they have a big problem pre-ejaculating. I hate their fancy cars with their fancy car insurance and I hate it when they think I care. I hate the way spoiled milk smells. I hate to vomit. I hate being called a slut or hearing someone call someone else a slut, and nothing will make me angrier. I hate it when people drive slow in the left lane and I hate it when cops are rude just because they can be. I hate pushy parents, and I really hate pageant moms, they disgust me. I hate having to work for a living but I love having money.

All in all, I’m pretty independent and very neurotic. I fluctuate between being overly confident and insecure. I can be kind of critical but I’m working on that. I’m a creatively maladjusted, divinely dissatisfied, fiery, loud-mouthed, buxom brunette with a red-head’s attitude and a teenager’s zest for life. I’ll never grow up because I refuse to, and I don’t care if I’m “that girl” at the bar. Fuck em all.

(And thanks, Beth, because this did pick me up).