And so, it found me. The giggly, happy, butterflies. The tug on the old heartstrings that tells me this could be something. And yet it's too soon to really call it much of anything. A few weeks of rekindling an old friendship, a bit of flirting, and suddenly the floodgates of how he really felt, and how I used to dream comes flying open.
And the talks. Fuck. The talks. He's fucking perfect for me. Seriously. We handle laundry and dishes the same way. I mean, the big stuff is there too, the ideas about relationships, future, timing.. We want the same things. We value the same things, honesty, trust, equality and validation in hearing each other out. The feeling of knowing you're being heard, cause your partner prioritizes understanding you, over responding.
But it's the little things that gets me all warm and fuzzy. Like how naturally our conversation flows. How he has no problem saying what he feels or me saying what I feel, no fear, no pulling away. Like how he gets and enjoys my stupid jokes. Like how he's the funniest, cutest and most perverted person all rolled up into one. The switch from fucking adorable to epically dirty is almost elegant, when he does it, and it makes me smile every time.
I love how he's mindful of me, and respects me. I love how he's mesmerized when I tell him about something I'm passionate about, and how deeply detailed he gets when I ask him deep questions. I'm insanely in love with how easily we seem to compromise. Like it's just a little puzzle to solve, and we're both intent on doing so. It makes it feel like we're in it together, rather than two sides wanting it our way. We're similar, when it comes to reflection and choosing to and from in life. Quality over quantity, and acceptance when there's no more positive to find, that it's time to let go.
We've decided we're totally gonna get married. We'll have matching joggingsuits that says "my king" and "my queen", have two cats and seven dogs, all of which are named ridiculously adorably. So far we've named 6 of the dogs. Honeybunny, Pancake, Buttercup, Pookie, Sweetums and Nugget. Primarily, they'll be corgis and samoyeds. We even prefer the same pizza. Pineapple and all. I'll fall asleep on him while he reads to me, and he'll whisper sweet things in my hair. Like "I took out the trash."
I really, really, really like this one. And I'm quite annoyed about the distance. But God fucking dammit. This could really be something, and we both know it. And I have not smiled this much about a guy in years. We both missed dinner and our bedtime by hours, just talking, tonight. Cute, funny, joking stuff as well as heavy, emotional stuff. He's afraid I'll judge him, but every time he just openly tells me about something, I only like him that much more.
I want this one. I think it could be pretty big.
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Thursday, November 2, 2017
A Plea For Karma
So. This year.. This year has been really tough. During it, both of my grandparents, my stepfather and myself have all been hospitalized, rather seriously. All of us underwent surgery, for various reasons, most serious cases being my grandfather with a ruptured aorta and my stepfather who had a fourdouble bypass. My grandmother breezed through getting her rotting gall bladder removed, and I myself lost an ovarie to a giant cyst that mushed it.
All in all, we're fucking done, okay? I hope you're listening in, Karma, cause you owe us, by now.
However, lately has offered difficulty for others than myself, and tonight my mind is centered on some very good friends of mine. Probably the people I know who deserves hardship the least. They are truly good people, you know? The kind who makes a difference, who always tries to be better than they were, and who just.. They're the kind of people who makes you want to be a better person, yourself. They're inspirational, kind, funny, loving and generous, and it kills me that they're not doing well.
I'm not going into details of why, because that's not my right to share, and they've already shared what they felt they needed to, with those they felt comfortable doing so with. So in stead I'm going to do something else, and talk about something one of them said, that resonates with me.
They said that they'd appreciate not getting well-meant advice. And that's such a simple thing, yet it takes me back to when I was doing really bad, myself. I never wanted advice, yet I don't think I ever asked people not to give them to me. Cause back then, I was so confused and all over the place, that advice seemed like a good idea, yet every time anyone told me "do this, this works", I just felt worse and worse.
I guess it's pretty normal to understand everything better afterwards, when you're not all foggy-brained from all the emotional stuff you're going through, anymore, and when you can actually see how the events related to eachother. So now, it's easy to see how every well-meant idea of how to handle things, only served to make me feel even more inadequate, because doing those things didn't work for me. When you're already in that place, it just doesn't take a lot to feel insecure, because you already live in the knowledge that you're not what you should be. Or feel you should be, rather.
It never made me feel better to hear that it would get better. Honestly, I think the worst days motivated me more than any moment of cheering up ever did. Because the bad days, the days filled with pain and doubt and fears, they were real. They were honest, and a testament of how it could only get better. Whereas everyone proclaiming that it would get better, was some sort of falsehood of not knowing what to say, or thinking that skipping over it like that was even an option. And it's just not.
"You'll get through it" was tolerable. Because it wasn't focused on some false end-result, that was elusive and impossible to really say when would be reached. "You'll get through it" was just.. Correct. At some point, somehow, with work, I'd get through it. And I did. I could trust that.
But when you're at the lowest, or even still going down the slope.. Failing is like having a mountain dropped on you. When something, that someone claims make them feel better, isn't helping you at all, you feel like you're failing. You feel like you're doing something wrong. You turn it onto yourself, and start questioning what's wrong with you, that makes you unable to feel better, when others can?
Yet, personally, I'm a practical person. I need specific answers to the tough questions, not some.. flimsy, hypothetical, philosophical crap. And honestly, that's what helped me the most. Therapy helped to voice the issues, but I was already pretty aware of what it consisted of, so the whole process of analyzing didn't turn into a very complicated matter. But getting the tools to actually work through the issues as they arose, testing them and finding out what works for me. That really helped me to take those first, careful step up the ladder.
Later on, what really helped me, was one of these people. Which makes it so much more unfair, that they're hurting now. The support, love, moral backup and care that this person showed me, when I was so vulnerable, will forever be comepletely priceless to me. They were there. Completely there, whatever I needed, even when that was tough honesty. They taught me that handling conflicts can be done in a caring, respectful way, where both parties are heard and where winning and losing don't need to even be a thing. They helped me be okay with not always being my best, and that it doesn't make me a bad person to stand my ground. They made me understand that feelings are valid. Not just mine, not just everyone elses, but all feelings. All feelings are valid and should be recognized. But noones feelings should dictate your actions, especially if it makes you compromise in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable or unhappy.
And these things have helped me be a happier person. I no longer keep people who drain me in my life, I prioritize those I know give me something back. And I'm way more careful with who I invest in, because I'd rather put my energy in those who put theirs in me, in a way I agree with. I don't have to be polite, if I don't like someone. And that doesn't make me a bad person, it makes me someone who knows her limits, and works within them, rather than stretching myself to the point where I break. A broken me isn't any good to anyone.
And now, I'm just hoping I can give something back. That I can reach them, the way they reached me, and just.. Give them that little bit of feeling okay, just a tiny bit, to try and repay something I can never fully repay. Because wonderful people deserve better than this. They've given so much, so many positive things, and done amazing things, and I can't believe that this should be the repayment. There's something amazing out there, waiting for them. Because there has to be. It's the only explanation for what is going on right now, the universe is saving up for something wonderful, for them.
That's my hope. My wish. I'd say prayer, if I believed in that. I'm okay giving up on the karmic repayment, you can give my share to them. They'd never claim to need it more, but I want them to have it, more than I want it for myself. And that's who I am, my refound, reformed, reshapen old self. The one who wants those she loves, to be as happy as they can be, even if it costs me my share. But for them, it's worth it.
All in all, we're fucking done, okay? I hope you're listening in, Karma, cause you owe us, by now.
However, lately has offered difficulty for others than myself, and tonight my mind is centered on some very good friends of mine. Probably the people I know who deserves hardship the least. They are truly good people, you know? The kind who makes a difference, who always tries to be better than they were, and who just.. They're the kind of people who makes you want to be a better person, yourself. They're inspirational, kind, funny, loving and generous, and it kills me that they're not doing well.
I'm not going into details of why, because that's not my right to share, and they've already shared what they felt they needed to, with those they felt comfortable doing so with. So in stead I'm going to do something else, and talk about something one of them said, that resonates with me.
They said that they'd appreciate not getting well-meant advice. And that's such a simple thing, yet it takes me back to when I was doing really bad, myself. I never wanted advice, yet I don't think I ever asked people not to give them to me. Cause back then, I was so confused and all over the place, that advice seemed like a good idea, yet every time anyone told me "do this, this works", I just felt worse and worse.
I guess it's pretty normal to understand everything better afterwards, when you're not all foggy-brained from all the emotional stuff you're going through, anymore, and when you can actually see how the events related to eachother. So now, it's easy to see how every well-meant idea of how to handle things, only served to make me feel even more inadequate, because doing those things didn't work for me. When you're already in that place, it just doesn't take a lot to feel insecure, because you already live in the knowledge that you're not what you should be. Or feel you should be, rather.
It never made me feel better to hear that it would get better. Honestly, I think the worst days motivated me more than any moment of cheering up ever did. Because the bad days, the days filled with pain and doubt and fears, they were real. They were honest, and a testament of how it could only get better. Whereas everyone proclaiming that it would get better, was some sort of falsehood of not knowing what to say, or thinking that skipping over it like that was even an option. And it's just not.
"You'll get through it" was tolerable. Because it wasn't focused on some false end-result, that was elusive and impossible to really say when would be reached. "You'll get through it" was just.. Correct. At some point, somehow, with work, I'd get through it. And I did. I could trust that.
But when you're at the lowest, or even still going down the slope.. Failing is like having a mountain dropped on you. When something, that someone claims make them feel better, isn't helping you at all, you feel like you're failing. You feel like you're doing something wrong. You turn it onto yourself, and start questioning what's wrong with you, that makes you unable to feel better, when others can?
Yet, personally, I'm a practical person. I need specific answers to the tough questions, not some.. flimsy, hypothetical, philosophical crap. And honestly, that's what helped me the most. Therapy helped to voice the issues, but I was already pretty aware of what it consisted of, so the whole process of analyzing didn't turn into a very complicated matter. But getting the tools to actually work through the issues as they arose, testing them and finding out what works for me. That really helped me to take those first, careful step up the ladder.
Later on, what really helped me, was one of these people. Which makes it so much more unfair, that they're hurting now. The support, love, moral backup and care that this person showed me, when I was so vulnerable, will forever be comepletely priceless to me. They were there. Completely there, whatever I needed, even when that was tough honesty. They taught me that handling conflicts can be done in a caring, respectful way, where both parties are heard and where winning and losing don't need to even be a thing. They helped me be okay with not always being my best, and that it doesn't make me a bad person to stand my ground. They made me understand that feelings are valid. Not just mine, not just everyone elses, but all feelings. All feelings are valid and should be recognized. But noones feelings should dictate your actions, especially if it makes you compromise in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable or unhappy.
And these things have helped me be a happier person. I no longer keep people who drain me in my life, I prioritize those I know give me something back. And I'm way more careful with who I invest in, because I'd rather put my energy in those who put theirs in me, in a way I agree with. I don't have to be polite, if I don't like someone. And that doesn't make me a bad person, it makes me someone who knows her limits, and works within them, rather than stretching myself to the point where I break. A broken me isn't any good to anyone.
And now, I'm just hoping I can give something back. That I can reach them, the way they reached me, and just.. Give them that little bit of feeling okay, just a tiny bit, to try and repay something I can never fully repay. Because wonderful people deserve better than this. They've given so much, so many positive things, and done amazing things, and I can't believe that this should be the repayment. There's something amazing out there, waiting for them. Because there has to be. It's the only explanation for what is going on right now, the universe is saving up for something wonderful, for them.
That's my hope. My wish. I'd say prayer, if I believed in that. I'm okay giving up on the karmic repayment, you can give my share to them. They'd never claim to need it more, but I want them to have it, more than I want it for myself. And that's who I am, my refound, reformed, reshapen old self. The one who wants those she loves, to be as happy as they can be, even if it costs me my share. But for them, it's worth it.
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