Archive for the ‘Love’ Category
It’s easy to keep making excuses why we don’t want to do something. It’s easy to come up with different reasons why we don’t want to something. It’s easy to create stories why we don’t want to something. But the fact is that they are all excuses, reasons, and stories.
The reality of why we don’t is usually quite simple and non-complicated. The reality of why we don’t pursue options, take adventures, just jump usually falls under one answer. Usually can be labeled by one word: FEAR!
Fear can keep us from love. Fear can keep us from relationships. Fear is strong enough to keep us from taking that job we always wanted or going on the vacation we have been dreaming of. Fear is weaker than LOVE but sneakier.
Fear makes moving on, moving forward, and moving past it a hard move. Fear can bring down a person, a home, a country, the world. Fear can corrupt every logical thought with doubt, angst, and sorrow. Fear has that kind of power.
Fear, my friends, can keep you safe, guarded, and secure. Fear is a great body guard and keeper but a horrible counselor or therapist. Fear makes ice cream taste better on a lonely Saturday night and sad movies even sadder.
Fear to conclude this story is the reason I haven’t said I love you. Why I haven’t been open enough. Fear is the reason I pull back and why think I’m really strong. Fear is why ‘This’ is never good enough and I’m always searching for more.
So I’m slowly breaking that relationship, slowly I’m letting go the word. Slowly I’m growing into my own and taking ownership of my world. Slowly I’m standing firm and can only move forward. Slowly, with fear there is no other way!
Hello friends it’s been a while since I’ve been around. I’ve been dedicating my time to video-blogs and podcast, writing other projects that I forgot about coming back here, to where it all started. But so many new things have happened, some good, some great, some not… But be reassured that through it all I have kept my sanity… Well, part of it!
Since we last saw each other I have been through individual therapy and now group sessions. This is where I want to start off and as time goes by I’ll add to the story. I am going to tell you about yesterday’s session, I’m writing on Tuesday and the sessions are on Monday. I can’t tell you who is in the group but my doctor’s name is John Timberlake, awesome man.
So as we were sharing and it came to this woman who was talking about her mom and how she never shows her love, how hard she is and how she feels abandoned and the issues that come with it. It struck a cord because I remember when I used to be really close to my mom and how I miss those moments.
I remember as a kid laying on my mom’s chest, sitting on her lap and I could smell the Pall Mall unfiltered cigarettes and coffee. How I could hear the beat of her heart as I lay there. It was so comfortable and safe and as soon as I felt okay I wanted to run and get away. But now I want to be there again.
I tried so hard for so many years to be a grown-up, to be her equal, to be her friend. I tried to gain the respect of my Dad but showing him how grown up I was. What a big man I had become. Like a kid playing dress-up and putting on dad’s shoes and not being able to take a step never mind walk.
I forgot that my parents have 40 years more experience in life than me and that no matter what I go through I will never catch up. I realized how much energy I have used trying to be a different member of the family and not enjoying who I am. I am the baby brother, the fun uncle, mom and dad’s little boy.
I said it in the group that I had to find my “Inner Jan”, if you remember ‘The Brady Bunch’ show where Jan say’s Marcia-Marcia-Marcia and tries to be different and fit-in in a different place in the family. Not realizing that she is just where she needs to be…. Well, I’m there now!
I’m tired of fighting a never ending battle that I created myself. A war against what was set in place as soon as I was born and can never be undone. I had nothing to do with it but I can claim it as my own. I can be the best little brother I can, the best son I can, the best uncle I can.
Because trying to be anything different has royally sucked. I’ve been horrible at being the oldest or the smartest or anything other than the spot I have within the family. That has nothing to do with my place in the world, I can strive to be all those things outside but within the family I have a place and I should do my best to do that well.
Again, I type this now with tears in my eyes, I would give anything to go back and be a kid. To have fun playing while my sisters watch me, while my mom rocks me in her arms, while my Dad and I watch reruns of “Adam 12” on TV. When I didn’t worry about where the groceries came from or how the food was cooked.
Yes, I’m embracing my spot within the family and I’m going to the best I can to be an uncle, brother and the baby!
My trips to see my family usually start the same way; I go on a 2 week long agonizing stress diet. All I do is stress over what’s going to happen and what people are going to say. I stress over the trip, the flight, the whole thing!
I write monologues: because I’m such a psychic and I know exactly what everyone is going to say that I have the whole trip scripted. Everyone should get a copy by the time I get there and be ready to reply to my lines.
I have entrance and exit cues: because I have people that I want to see and have time limits. You can only take some folks for so long and others you want to see as much as you can. Plus they should have their schedule cleared for my visit.
Food; I have favorite foods that you can only enjoy in South Texas and I expect everyone to have kept themselves from those places so that they will want to eat there with as much excitement as I have. Starve for a year if you have to.
If possible get in touch with my friends back home and get updated on the latest inside jokes so that when I make a comment you will laugh at just the right time (please refer to the above paragraph and get your script).
Get caught up on what’s going on in my life so that I don’t have to tell you long stories and bore you with the details. Because if you know me, I remember all the details, you are my Facebook friend you should stay in touch!
Of course this is more of a wish list than actually happens on my trips. Things never turn out exactly the way I want them to. Folks just don’t follow the rules. But I’m glad that they don’t because they always turn out better.
My life is so full of surprises and my family is part of that. They teach me so many new things, they have interesting new things that weren’t there last year, and they treat me like time hasn’t passed, like I never left.
There is something magical in my mother’s eyes, in my father’s voice, in the laughter and the tears. The aroma of my sister’s cooking and the even the soap she washes her sheets in. I swear I even miss the cigarette smell.
But now I can share special moment with my nephews as adults. Now I can tell them about my dreams and goals. Now they don’t want to be cowboys and ballerinas they have real jobs and even children, careers and lives.
So now that the trip home is coming up and I get ready to say good bye I’m glad things didn’t turn out the way I wanted. I’m glad I get surprised cause it makes me excited for next year. I’ll still get stressed before the trip.
The great thing of being on vacation is that you get to be someone different for a bit. Even if you are visiting old friends or family there is always a chance to reinvent yourself. On this particular trip I get to be a writer.
Not too famous just enough to show my friends that I’m moving up in the world. Don’t brag about anything published unless I had a magazine copy ready to give out, and I usually did. No book in the works but I’m considering the idea.
There is also the chance to find romance, the wild wind kind, where you meet fall madly in love and then you disappear. I’ve always wanted to say, “Here’s looking at you, babe”. I didn’t get to but it would have been a great ending.
If you have been following my blogs for the last year you are aware of the fact that I have been looking for love through the dating sites and I have been very forward in reaching out to folks. Been on several dates and even repeated some.
This time I was approached by someone that I found interesting too. Looks, attitude, voice, walk, goals, dreams… everything! Okay so he smoked and had a dog, can’t get it all right now can we (some folks know that I’m not a big pet person).
This was a one week romance we met on Saturday for dinner, which turned out to be popcorn and a movie on his bed. A long conversations about life and the meaning of, about dreams and goals and how to make them reality and a kiss here and there.
Everything was great, I skipped out on some folks to keep his company, if you are reading this and I skipped out on you now you know why. Insert “I’ll come visit you more and you can visit me” conversation, needed in every long distance romance.
Everything sounding too good to believe, yep it was. Then came the last night and it would be that part of the movie where everything reaches a climax and one person ends up not getting on the bus or the other buys a ticket gets on the bus with no luggage ready for a great adventure.
Hold the tissues that didn’t happen. What happened was not on my script, I didn’t get the memo it was more of a tragedy. There were harsh words and some accusations I chucked them up to the tension of leaving.
There were “you don’t love me and I really love you”. There was even or at least in my head a Whitney Houston song playing in the background. A couple of tears shared that will forever remain on the seat of a Greyhound bus.
There was a song playing on the background that over the course of the week became our song. But the real end came when I was deleted from Facebook… What??? Oh no you didn’t… I was deleted!!! So there ends the one week vacation romance.
So we all have couple friends where the two folks in the relationship are so different in personality that we always question how they even got together. Usually we are more or better friends with one over the other, so we start to question how one tolerates the other or do they compromise?
Lets face it we really don’t know what goes on behind close doors, right? There are always two sides to every story and then there is the truth. We see how one treats the other in public but we don’t know in the privacy of their own homes. I mean, from my parents I remember my dad all sweet around other folks.
The definition of compromise: settle a dispute by mutual concession.
The definition of tolerate: accept or endure.
I wondered about it from my former partners. I was very different from most of them, there was usually a bit of tension in public. After the break-up my friends would ask what kept me in the relationship and honestly there was only one answer. Love. Being in love blures the line between compromise and tolerate.
So when that line begins to vanish and we see it all as part of being part of a relationship would we get out if we could? At what point will we snap out of the magic spell of love and realize that we are loosing ourselves into our partner and allow us to just exist and not live, at what point?
I mean when did I forget that I liked jalapeños on my pizza or lime on my salad. That I liked the nice smelling shampoo and had a favorite cologne. Tide over Cheer and two dryer sheets in my laundry. That I iron all my clothes and I fold my underwear. When did I become you?
After the break-up and as I begin to find me in the boxes that I have to unpack small parts of my previous life begin to take shape. The shell of me, which now feels odd, is like an old pair of jeans that I couldn’t wear without loosing some weight. I had to loose you to find me.
So when the fog that filled my head, translating tolerance into compromise, begins to clear and the horizon is filled with my dreams and goals. My wants and needs. Filled with me, I realize that I did compromise a lot so I could tolerate being with you. I tolerated things so I could compromise on the love that I needed.
So now that time has passed and I find myself living alone and sometimes a bit lonely I think about the usual argument or discussion of where are we going to eat; Mexican or Italian, take out or dine in, I pay you pay. Suddenly I can’t tolerate to be alone and would compromise it all by spending one more night with you.
I would give up the jalapeños on my pizza and not wear the cologne if you compromise and tolerate being with me.
At my age and after many years dating and being in relationships I have done and been just about every kind of person. I have been the caregiver, the lover, the high maintenance boy friend, the frugal one. I’ve sat in the back and I’ve been loud in front all in order to please my lover at the time.
Tiring… Yes. It’s tiring just to write and even more to read over but I did it all in the name of love or the closest thing to it. I have morphed and changed all in an effort to not be alone. All in an effort to be part of something and not wake up in bed alone again.
I have loved big dogs, small dogs, I have even shared a bed with some. I have hated cats, disliked birds, babysat children, avoided places with children. Loud restaurants, quiet places, too close to the highway, too close to downtown. The table is too close to the bathroom.
I’ve had my hair short and left it long. Didn’t wear cologne or used scented soaps. No gel in my hair or no hair spray. Wore a cap and a cowboy hat or never wore a hat again. Wore boots to the beach and sandals to the club. Shorts and a tux even all in an effort to fit in.
Spoke just English and even just Spanish, learned Sign Language and tried to learn Italian. Ate strange food I couldn’t pronounce and some that I didn’t want to smell. Some that looked back at me and I think one that even moved. But I tried it so I wouldn’t eat alone.
I slept on the right side of the bed and then on the left. I slept on a futon and on the floor, on a couch. I slept with more than two persons in bed and at some point I slept outside on a camping trip. I slept in a camper, bed of a pick-up truck and an RV, he was a traveling nurse.
I have tried everything to not be alone, done anything to not be alone, and yet today I’m alone. I’m alone writing about why I’m alone and I’m really not any of those things and a lot of those things. I have learned and grown, I have liked, loved, and hated some of those things.
Maybe this time I’m gonna try to find out what I like, love, and hate. I’m gonna give ‘Me’ a chance to decide what he wants and when he finds out what he likes, loves, and hates I’ll meet someone that knows what they like, love, and hate. Then together we can like, love, and hate the same things.
Because in the end I like, love, and hate myself. Sometime apart, sometimes together.
There is something about a hug that makes everything feel better and there is a hug and then there is a HUG. You hug a friend, your dog, your pillow. You hug your mom and dad, your brothers and sisters. Hug the aunt you don’t see often and then you hug your grandma.
But when your heart is sad and a tear is lingering in your eye there is only the hug from that special someone that makes it feel all okay. There is the heart that comes with a long passionate kiss that melts the pain away and lets you see the light at the end of the tunnel brighter.
Its the hug from that person that makes a celebration much happier and a birthday wish come true. It makes a promotion seem like the Nobel prize and winning lottery ticket like being assigned to the presidency. Take-out like a gourmet meal prepared by four star chef.
Its that hug that feels your body with warmth and makes your head spin, your knees weak and your toes tingle. Your heart skip a beat and your ears ring. That hug that makes your arms longer, long enough to wrap yourself and that special person two times over.
Its the hug that keeps you from collapsing from pain and holds you up to take on the challenge of the next day. The hug that seems to squeeze all the tears from your body and drains the pain from your soul. The hug that burns when its saying good bye.
The good-bye hug that says I don’t love you anymore or the can we just be friends hug. The I wish I could give you more hug or this just isn’t enough for me hug. The if only you were available hug or if I were single hug. That hug that feels so right and so wrong.
Whichever hug you get sometimes its just nice to be able to have someone to hug.
Okay so this is really not an excuse but more of a fact. I was raised in the 70’s and television was a great babysitter. My parents would take a nap and I would sit and do my homework. To this date my favorite shows are Sid & Kroft shows and The Muppets, I could watch for hours.
I can still do that, sit and watch TV for hours and I still like those shows and competition shows. “Project Runway”, “Top Chef”, “Master Chef” and anything that brings people to compete and live in the same house. GENIUS, there is so much energy and fighting and arguing!!!
There is always one, usually the most aggressive, that will say, “I’m not here to make friends”. Really, you don’t think that at some point you will cross paths with these folks again. You really think that through your whole career you will never need them… Really?
Of course later on in the show they always have an ‘AHA’ moment and they are best buddies with one of them. There are tears and hugs and ‘I’ll call you’. Then we see them at the reunion show and they are back to their cocky, phony, annoying personality.
Well, it got me to think what if I had that attitude about life. ‘I’M NOT HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS” What if I attempted to go through life not counting on anyone or needing anyone or wanting anyone around? Well, probably I would not write because there would no one to read it… Right?
I have said many times, “It takes a village to put me together” and I mean it. I have amazing friends that keep me in check. Even when they don’t realize that they are doing it, they really ground me. I would start a list of names but I’m sure I would miss someone.
Thank you to all my friends because when it comes to the reality show that is my life… I am here to make friends.
It’s no secret that I have resorted to on-line dating. I don’t drink, I don’t like bars, I don’t go out much. Really, is there really any surprise that I posted my photo on at least a half dozen websites. Okay, now there are only 2 and the picking has gotten slimmer but I’m still trying.
There have been some really good dates; movies, dinners, Disney, lunches, walks on the beach, carnivals. All the things that I really enjoy. Some very nice first date kisses and some awesome conversations. But they haven’t all been great there were those frogs that were just toads!
Okay so some just were messages back and forth. Some were E-mails for a couple of days. Some were great late night conversations. Even a Skype session, that ended when my gentleman caller wanted to get a little freaky on the screen. Thank you “Hang Up” button!
Some never came back after the first date or even called back. Some I really didn’t want to hear from. Some I was upset that they didn’t come back for seconds. Some dates peaked too soon. Some never ever got to simmer. So you get the idea that there have been several “First Date”… You are correct!
The fault could be mine I tend to be very forward about what I want. I could talk a lot about what I’m really passionate about. Or my favorite subject, according to my friends… ME. Hey, when you have been through as much as I have there is a lot to share.
Maybe its the numerous loops that they have to jump through. Well, not just loops. Loops with fire, and glass on the floor, with a tiger in one end and snakes on the other. Then when they cross that they have to swim in a pool with sharks and alligators.
Get to the end and answer a 20 question survey, followed by an oral quiz. Just when you think you are done. You have to listen to one of my long stories and pay attention cause there will be a test afterwards. Sounds a little much? It is… I know… I claim it!
But don’t we all deserve the best partner possible? I just want what I deserve and that’s the scariest part of it all. What if I deserve is not the best but somewhere in the middle. Like a partner out of the clearance bin at Wal-Mart? What if I have been so horrible in my life that mediocre is the best I get?
So dating is not just for fun its a game of survival!!!
I was talking to my sister of all places on Facebook. What is it about chatting on-line, about being anonymous that allows you to ask and answer anything? We had one of the most intimate, honest conversations that we’ve ever had.
I just turned 40 and for the first time I feel like she was talking to me like an adult. Like I was part of the family, not that I ever felt not part but I finally understood my place in the dynamic of our little world. Because isn’t each family a little world?
Just like our planet Earth it revolves around the Sun so does a family revolve around other families. Those families made up of other folks and we all have to work together, we gravitate towards each other, we co-exist.
Our stories intertwine and we lose track of where one ends and the other starts. And suddenly our little world is invaded by others. Sometimes not welcome. We come to a fork in the road, a moment to decide how we are going to react to the new information.
Sometimes the information comes to you and it makes thing fall into place. Kinda like when you buy a puzzle with a picture of a pony and puppies on the box and you start to put it together and it doesn’t look right. Then you realize that there are kittens and rainbows in the puzzle and now it all makes sense.
The puzzle is all of it; puppies, ponies, kittens, and rainbows!!!