All of the Things, All of the Love

*warning: the following contains lots of feelings (mostly of the sad variety), grief, personal information, and possibly some self indulgence. proceed at your own discretion.*

I can't believe it's been a year. I can't believe I've survived an entire year without you in my life. and I'm very aware how selfish that sounds, but it's the truth. you're one of the most amazing people I've ever met, and I was always aware of how lucky I was to have you around. I know you let me in much further than you meant to, but the fact that you didn't push me back out meant everything to me. you almost did, once, and I am forever grateful that you chose not to. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had - after all, it would've been the same struggle i'd have had if it were me. similar creatures, always. I'd never experienced that before; my brain and my soul always seemed to work so differently from everyone else's. I'm not very good with people past the superficial because I don't understand them. and conversely, they don't understand me. I just seem to be wired differently. but then there was you, who not only understood my ramblings but expounded upon them, creating fantastic, intelligent, thought-provoking conversations that helped me make sense of life and the events around me. but just as important was the silliness - the bad jokes, horrible puns, and funny pictures that we constantly sent back and forth. to have someone in my life who operated on the same basic system as me - not identical, of course; we didn't agree on everything, and it'd have been boring if we had - was a first. I'd always been the odd one out, the one who thought completely differently. I'm very lucky I'm both clever and an empath; without both those traits, I'm sure I would have been labeled a sociopath and more or less ostracized in social situations. even with those things, I'm still awkward and odd and uncomfortable. and somehow you never saw that. and I never struggled around you. it seemed that we just had the same oddities, so we made sense to each other. oh, I was still awkward sometimes, but for a totally different reason. I loved that about us together, by the way: it was just the right amount of awkward. too much awkwardness is uncomfortable, and none at all means it doesn't matter. but we were just slightly awkward with each other, just some of the time, and there was such a beauty in it. and in the fact that neither of us backed away from it. we just hung out on the ledge together and bumbled through with perplexed but genuine smiles, until the world smoothed out again and we went back to talking or being silly or whatever we were doing.

it still hurts every single day, and I'm not sure it will ever stop doing that. before you I was alone and apart but I assumed that's just the way it was. I was not made like everyone else, so that feeling of "once-removed" was just something I had to live with. I got used to it. it didn't even bother me any more; it was just a fact of life. but then it seemed I wasn't alone anymore because you were somehow like me. and it's weird and strange to suddenly have to change your world view, to have to stretch it to include someone else when the universe had always seemed to tell you that you were it - that your bubble didn't actually connect to the rest of world's Venn diagram. but we overlapped somehow, and it was amazing to discover. it's not to say I don't have friends or family that love me, because I do, and I love them right back. my parents are amazing, and I have john and jen, my inner circle, who love me no matter how weird I am. but for a brief (way too brief) time, there was someone that loved me for my weirdness and idiosyncrasies, not in spite of them. and furthermore, someone who understood them, as I understood yours. it was a magical thing. and now that you're gone, the aloneness I'd gotten used to and had come to rely on is suddenly extremely painful. because before I only knew the separation. now I know how lovely it is not to be separated - with no way to get that back. and that really really sucks.

you were brilliant and funny and sweet and kind and insanely talented. and didn't seem to really understand how rare and beautiful you were. we knew each other for several years before we became close - you always had protective walls up and I always respected that, though now I suppose I wish I'd been less respectful - but you were always on my radar, long before I even realized it. the word I always used in my head (from the beginning) to describe you was "adorable," which I meant the most literal sense possible. you were adorable in the modern sense as well, of course (and I miss seeing your face and your smile more than I could ever find words for), but I always saw you as someone worthy of being adored. no one deserved it more than you. you held a mirror up to me when I was at my lowest and helped rediscover the parts of me I'd lost or forgotten about. I just seemed to be unable to be stuck in the past when I was with you. I've always sucked at "living in the moment"; I'm always overthinking what just happened or thinking ahead to the next thing. but I was always completely in the present with you. because where else would I possibly ever want to be? you made everyone around you want to be better, to do their best, to up their game. it was something in your presence that just made us want to be the best versions of ourselves for you. it was nothing you ever consciously said or did, just who you were and how you inspired us to be. when you left, you left a huge hole, not just in my heart and in the hearts of those who loved you, but in the universe as a whole. you were such a positive force, even when you didn't think you were, and a light went out with you. it crushes me to think of the amazing music that will never be written, the thoughtful, beautiful lyrics that will never be sung. the incredible adventures and experiences that you'll never get to have, that you deserved to enjoy.  all the things we'll never get to talk about, all the places we'll never travel to, all the time I'll never get to spend with you. because I'll never stop wishing I had more time with you. I can only hope that I was able to bring into your life a fraction of the joy and beauty you brought into mine.  all of the love, always.

Always Something There to Remind Me

when something is no longer part of your life - when someone dies, yes, but also when a friendship goes sour, you break up with a partner, a pet dies or runs away, you lose a job you liked, or maybe you move away from a city you lived in for years - the memories of it are everywhere.  often they pop up in unexpected places  or catch you when you least expect it.  (like in the song "call me maybe" - why is chirpy bubblegum music making me cry?)  but it happens, and it's normal, and we assume it will happen when we lose something we love. i anticipated this, but i was not even a little prepared for how extensive it was. and still is, six months later.
eric and talked about everything. important stuff, sure; the world and how it works and how we felt about it and all sorts of deep, philosophical thoughts. but also - and more often - lots and lots of mundane and often silly things. music, tv shows, really bad jokes, where we were taking each other to visit when we (someday) had money, horrible puns, the pros/cons of moving to idaho, what animals we identified with, harry potter, doctor who, being geeks in general, emoticons, and whole host of other ridiculous things. i loved all our deep conversations, but i absolutely adored our dorkiness. and because said dorkiness ranged across so many subjects, the reminders are everywhere.
the other problem (maybe problem is not the right word - complication? issue?) is my eidetic memory.  granted, it's much more selective than it was when i was a kid due to the years of undiagnosed celiac and the resulting brain fog, but now that i'm mostly healthy, it has started to return. and moments from the last few years are burned indelibly into my memory circuits.  although, now that i think of it, maybe it's not just that. maybe it was just him. because even before that, before the onset of the worst of my symptoms, before my brain started clearing up and remembering more of what it saw, i seem to have filed away all sorts of little interactions. unimportant things, casual conversations, nothing impressive. and all stuff before we really started spending time together and became close. but he was always on my radar, i guess. and my brain - however many holes and gaps it has when it comes to other subjects - found a way to tuck him inside to keep.
anyway, the point of all that is this: saying that everything reminds me of eric - of some conversation we had or some joke we shared or some time we hung out - is not hyperbole. it is actual fact. and while sometimes i'm too busy or preoccupied to always notice the connection or to let myself dwell on it, it happens. a hundred times a day. and at least a dozen of those random times cause me to, if not out and out cry, at least tear up. and there's nothing i can do about it, because the emotion is just there, and so strong that it just bubbles out before i can stop it. (which is super professional when you're working with a student and something stupid like the word "doctrine" or a reference to a platypus suddenly brings tears to your eyes.) not to mention the countless things that cross my path that make me immediately think, "i need to send this... never mind." i mean, who else is going to appreciate a star trek/beatles crossover meme on all the levels? or fantastically illustrated puns? the conversations that would've followed those shares would've had me laughing all night. and i miss that so desperately. there seem to be a million things i miss, deep, important, life-changing things, and maybe i'll be able to discuss those things eventually. (those roots go deep, though, and - since i spent much of the writing of this blog with tears trickling down my face - i'm not sure i'm ready to sob openly while trying to write that one.) but it's the smallest things that make my heart ache the most. the hello-theres and what're-you-doings and what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-peoples and so-this-just-happeneds. they were the best parts of my days and now they're gone. and nearly everything in the world seems to remind me of that. i hate the reminders because the initial happy thought is invariably followed by a vague but crushing sense of "and i never get to do/see/talk about that with him again." but oddly i love them, too, because they mean those things happened, and i got to be a part of them, and i wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

I Don't Know How To Answer That

"how are you?" seems like a simple enough question. and most of us answer it automatically, just like we ask it. we hear it so often - from our neighbors, co-workers, the cashier at the market - and most of the time it's only asked out of politeness; the person asking really doesn't care, or at least doesn't really want an answer other than "fine" or "good." and that's ok, really - it's a social conditioning to ask, to be polite, to show possible interest. sometimes it's asked with real concern, by the people who know and love us, and it seems easier to answer those inquiries honestly. but i seem to be having some real problems responding to the casually-asked version of this question lately.

i'm odd anyway (like that should be a shock to anyone) and one of my weird ocd things is accuracy. in this case, it prevents me from replying "fine" when i'm not. if i say "not so great," then the next question will undoubtedly be some variation of "what's wrong?" i realize that most people don't want a dissertation on why i'm not fine, and in 95% of cases, i don't really want to tell them anyway. inner circle and family aside, people want to be supportive, but aren't really equipped to deal with others' loss. it makes them uncomfortable, and understandably so. no one wants to imagine what that sort of thing feels like, and besides, what do you say? "i'm sorry" seems woefully inadequate and doesn't really do anything. and asking for more details will probably only intensify the sad and possibly bring on tears - even more uncomfortable for the person just trying to be nice. none of this is fun for anyone involved.

the other issue i'm having with this question is that i honestly don't know how to answer it. i'm definitely not fine, but what am i? awful? well, yes, emotionally i suppose i am. i am bereft of my connection with one the most beautiful human beings i have ever known; i have to wake up every day knowing i will never again get a silly text from him, or ruminate with him about life over drinks, or see him onstage doing what he loved, or hear a new piece of his music. and that knowledge sucks harder than i can possibly put into words. but i also know - objectively, mind you, in those brief moments when i can get around the sheer horribleness of the situation - that i'm dealing with this fairly well. (ironically, i can deal because of him, but that's another subject for another blog.) i sit around and cry all the time, i'm frequently overwhelmed by the need to hear from him, or the want to send him a silly picture, or just by the intense feeling of without.  but i get up. i go to work. i occasionally do things with people. i eat (though not terribly well, i admit). and i try my best to go to yoga because it seems to be keeping me sane. sometimes i even enjoy myself for small pockets of time before something random reminds me that everything sucks. but that's the point: not everything sucks, just this one thing. granted, it affects how i deal with and feel about everything else, but i have work, i'm mostly making ends meet for the moment, i have my drama classes to teach, and i'll have dance again soon. most of my life isn't sucky, technically. so how do i feel? i don't know. mind-bogglingly sad. grateful for my jobs. alone. appreciative of the friends and family that love me. kinda angry. mindful of the beauty around me. heart-broken. all of these contradictory things, and usually all at the same time.

so i think i've come to the conclusion that it's just best not to answer in casual conversation. i've had enough theatre training and guest/client/parent contact over the years to enable me to smooth over and redirect the conversation. usually just repeating the question will encourage the person to answer, and few follow-up questions should be enough to put the focus on them. eventually i'll be able to go back to "fine" and "good" but until then, i think i'll just stick with, "how are you?"

i'm trying to take your advice...

i am. it's not going very well at the moment, i'm afraid. but i'll keep trying...

 

(that was such a fun night, too...)

i Should Stop Thinking So Much...

I realized yesterday that I'm sort of holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. things are going marginally well, I'm healthier physically and emotionally, and I'm finding myself relatively happy. and here I am, apparently waiting for something to fall through, for someone to walk away, for something to implode. and I don't like it. I don't want to be suspicious of happiness and stability in my life. I mean, given past experiences, my worry is hardly unfounded or irrational, but still, it's no way to go around being. I don't know - maybe its good in a sort of reverse-psychology way? I never think about the possible downfalls, so when they happen, they're that much more devastating. maybe if I go into things expecting the worst, or at least allowing for those possibilities, it'll all be fine? sometimes my convoluted thought processes give me a headache. anyway, point is, I don't like assuming that things won't last, but I don't know how to fix that, as looking on the bright side of things never seemed to get me anywhere either. i don't like being negative. it's no fun and gets me nowhere. ah, well. one day at a time, everything into bite-sized pieces I suppose...

Well, Crap.

pretty ideas and random daydreams are one thing; they're pleasant distractions from the real world, and that's fine. the problem is when something goes from being a pretty - and probably unobtainable - idea to being something you actively want. wanting is never good. it means you're emotionally invested and that if (or more likely when) you don't get that thing, it takes a toll. wanting is a part of desire, and to quote neil gaiman, desire is always cruel. dammit....

Fatal Flaw

John has yelled at me about this - and reprimanded me again recently for a comment I made - but I really have no other explanation. for all my frivolity and randomness and even my romanticism, I am a very practical person. highly logical, albeit in my own way. and yes, I realize it's impossible to make rigid statements when dealing with people because people are individual and changeable. but when every single guy I've ever had a relationship with reacts the exact same way, then something's gotta be up, right? (or attempted a relationship, because, let's be honest, I do bring a lot of harder-to-deal-with things to the table to begin with.) and these are all very different men and really good people. well, ok, one of them was kind of an asshat about things, but generally, awesome people who, after a certain amount of time with me, all do the exact same thing: walk away from me with no explanation, no reason, no good-bye. no excuses, even. just gone. out of my life completely, just like that. and it's not like these guys even had a history of walking out on people. (well, ok, maybe the same aforementioned asshat had some issues. ok, that one I take responsibility for - I should've known better.) anyway, the point is: if every single person reacts the exact same way, and these people are all different, then obviously the fault must lie in me. the evidence points to the apparent fact that something about me must trigger this response. the frustrating thing is I can't fix it because I don't know what it is. and I can't ask anyone, because they're all gone. (well, all but one, but that's a long complicated mess that is currently simple and surfacey and uncomplicated and I'd like to keep it that way.) and the next logical conclusion is that this will continue to happen any time I might try to be with someone. if someone can claim to love me and want to marry me and make a life with me and STILL walk away from me without a word, then... what's funny is that I never went into any relationship - or potential relationship - expecting them to walk away. which seems silly in retrospect, but I guess it didn't occur to me that the same thing would happen over and over.

which brings up another point, and the one that john yelled at me for: I can't keep doing this. I sure as hell can't survive what I went through after jon again. so how can I trust that the next man WON'T run away? clearly I now have abandonment issues; and I can't even consider being with someone until I can let go of that and not expect it. I fully believe that to be successful in a relationship you need to be able to be completely open and completely over what has happened in the past. I won't go into something if I'll be projecting past problems on the current person. it's totally unfair, and as I've been hurt by this in the past, I refuse to do this to anyone else. but how do i let go of what appears to be fact? an obviously repeting pattern that is out of my control? ugh. I hate being broken...

Well, Apparently The Answer Is "You Don't" When It Involves Me...

went and saw cowboy mouth this weekend with kristin and her sister... and i promise to detail the as-per-usual kick-ass-iness of the show at a later date, but i just needed to share some of these lyrics as they keep going 'round my head.

how do you tell someone (you don't love them)

Michael says don't shout at me like I was born a fool
You speak of love and scream of love now dare to treat me cruel
Nothings fair in love and war, so please lets make some rules,
There's a little boy who's cryin' over here

Did you ever know me, I swear that I have tried
did you ever need me, I feel like I just died
Did you ever want me, I swear that I have tried
How do you tell someone you don't love them
How do you tell someone you don't care anymore
How do you tell someone you don't love them anymore

Tina says I wish that I had never seen you smile
your name is written on my soul in alphabetic file
all I've got's my dignity, so I will leave in style
there's a million of us crying over here

everytime I talk to you there's no one listening
everytime I reach for you there's no one there
everywhere I look for you there's no one to be found

if you'd like to listen to the song (it's a great song) click here.

Mad As a Box of Frogs

if you haven't yet scene syfy's "alice," you should really do yourself a favor and watch it - especially if you saw and enjoyed "tin man" from a few years ago. (i watched it on youtube here, and i'm sure you can find it on hulu or elsewhere.)  go watch the show - enjoy, among other things, matt frewer (taggart from "eureka") as the "mad as a box of frogs" (my new favorite phrase) white knight, colm meany's slightly-witless-but-not-a-complete-cuckolded-idiot king of hearts, and all the fun associations you can draw between what you remember about the book and original movie and this version of wonderland. and then there's the end bit...

Ok, I Lied; I CAN Think of an Analogy...

(it seems i can always come up with a good metaphor...)

i didn't understand it was possible to hurt this badly; to feel this sort of soul-crushing pain. i mean, i suppose i sort of acknowledged the idea of it, just as you - having never broken a bone - can acknowledge that breaking one is going to hurt. i've broken bones before, literally and figuratively, and so i thought i knew what to expect. but i forgot that there's an intense difference between, say, fracturing your wrist and breaking a couple of ribs. (both of which i've had the displeasure of experiencing, thankyouverymuch.) the wrist hurts, it lays you up for a while, it's difficult to do a lot of the things you're used to doing.... but after a short while the pain is more annoying than anything, and you quickly learn to compensate with the other hand until the pain has faded completely. breaking ribs, on the other hand, is a totally different story. the pain is intense, crippling. it's hard to breathe, it's stabbingly painful to even try, and the slightest movement in any part of your body will set off explosions of white-hot searing pain. and that shit doesn't heal quickly, either. with a wrist, you can put on a cast or a splint, give it a month or two, and you're as good as new. ribs? yeah, not so much. there's nothing you can do short of immobilizing your entire body, and the stabbing pain can take between 6 months and a year to go away. and even after it's supposedly healed, it can still give you twinges, years later. so i thought i'd known emotional pain and heartache, but it turns out it was just a fractured wrist. now i've got several crushed and broken ribs and i'm struggling for my very breath. not a pretty picture, granted, but at least it's accurate, and may help explain how i'm feeling...

A Visual Aid for the Current State of My Soul

i would be the blue one on the left...

(the extreme irony, of course, being that the artist is the one who rendered me so...)

From Such Great Heights

just as you had to bear with me when i was at an extremely high point in my emotional well-being, you will now have to deal with the extreme low. i apologize for this, but well, this blog is a catch-all for my thoughts and feelings, and nothing in either of those categories is very optimistic at the moment. i don't have an analogy or metaphor strong enough to express how shattered i am inside and how hard it is to even breathe right now. part of the problem, i think, is that i fell from such a height - it's one thing to be happy, but i was happy to the exclusion of all other things. other issues, money problems, stress... none of that mattered in the least, because i was so over the moon. i've never had that kind of happy before, ever. it was the best i've ever felt, ever. not to say i've NEVER been happy, because clearly i have, but not like this. not like nothing could touch me and everything was possible. not even when i was seven, and the world was still full of magic. so to have it taken away, so suddenly and so completely, was beyond devastating. it's like my world imploded, and i was trapped in the center, helpless to stop it. the pain is overwhelming, and really, that concerns me a little - i was thinking about this this morning... i am currently on 100 mg of zoloft a day; can you imagine if i were not? if i can be this depressed WHILE on anti-depressants, i shudder to think of the mess i could be without chemical help. my philosophy does not allow for suicide, but i think i would be close to those depths, if (again) i allowed for such thinking. it's all icky, i am icky, and i'm sorry - i try not to break down in public or in front of anyone if i can help it, but i can't promise that i won't have a moment here and there. i'm SO very tired of the crying, of the miserableness, of everything, but i just can't get out of it yet...

Stealing Stuff from Sami

(man, i love a good alliteration...)

my friend sami had this posted as her status: [sami] is damaged and thus will hurt you if you get too close. Therefore, I accept my sentence of experiencing this life by myself...

i feel like these words sum up my emotional state right now, and so i am stealing them.

It's The Little Things

i just spent the most amazing week with jon in alabama (yes, kids, i know - but it's not like the deliverance-type images you're conjuring in your heads). seriously amazing. we didn't do anything special really, just spent the week doing every-day-life stuff: driving around, visiting with friends, wandering around the beach for a bit, renting movies, and the like. and i wouldn't have changed a minute of it. everything was so... easy. like we've lived together for ages and already developed routines, and just fell back into them. so obviously, we work really well together - we have similar interests and spiritual beliefs, we both believe family is important, we are very compatible physically (and not just that, gutter-dwellers, but also things like kissing, hand-holding, lounging on the couch together - don't get me wrong, though, there are no complaints in any area...). but sometimes it's the little things that assure me that this will work. like the following conversation, which took place on the walk back to the car after lunch at a beach-side restaurant.

j: orange beach is celebrating their 25th anniversary, so there are lots of activities and things going on this week.

k: very cool.

j: and every place is celebrating. you know when we went to my store and i ran in to get my check? they had cupcakes and drinks and stuff out for the customers for the anniversary.

k: nice!

(pause)

k: wait, there were cupcakes and you didn't bring me one?

j: well, i didn't know you'd want one.

k: um, i pretty much always want cake. just for future reference.

j: duly noted. cake good.

k: unless it's chocolate cake.

j: it WAS chocolate.

(pause)

j: you don't like chocolate?? what's wrong with you?

k: no - i just don't like chocolate-flavored stuff. ice cream and cake and things. it doesn't taste like chocolate to me.

j: (nods) it's like watermelon candy.

k: what?

j: watermelon candy. if i gave you a piece of candy, you could put it in your mouth and immediately say, "hey, that's watermelon!" but if you then took a bite of an actual watermelon, they taste nothing alike.

k: you're so right! why do we call it watermelon flavor then? grape flavoring's sorta the same thing.

j: and grape-scented stuff...

see? i realize a lifetime of conversations like these doesn't sound like the stuff dreams are made of, but really? i can't wait. :o)

Can't You Just Do Something Stupid? I'm Used To That...

just a note, first:  this is a departure for me, because i'm not a big "share my private life" sort of person. i mean, i'm not secretive or anything, but... you know,  i think it has something to do with how people relate to me as an empath - people tell me all sorts of things i don't need (or sometimes want) to know about what's going on in their lives.  it's like subconsciously they pick up that i'll understand them and their point of views, so if they feel confused or need to talk something through, they seem to automatically come to me.  but because people are generally self-concerned creatures (and i'm not being mean, it's just human nature), if i start talking about my issues, i don't get the same concern from others.  so i've just gotten used to keeping to myself, which is fine, and all-around easier as far as i'm concerned.  but this is not the point of this blog; this is just some exposition so you know where i'm coming from.  rob mentioned something yesterday that made me rethink some things about myself, and that's the point of this blog.  ok, tedious explanation over.

i've never been that girl that gets lots of showy attention from guys.  i don't know that i've ever (to this point anyway) really had any romance in my life - again, i just don't seem to inspire that from guys. and i'm generally ok with that... or, rather, i've gotten used to it.  i've never had it, so i really don't know what do with it.  and really, i'm not a need-to-be-pampered girly-girl; my best friends have always been guys, and i only have a handful of really good girl friends - and generally, these are girls who are a lot like me.  plus, the universe seems to think that i shouldn't be allowed to have relationships, so that's another thing i've (unfortunately) gotten used to.  so i've been completely thrown off lately because i suddenly have a boy who's romancing the hell out of me. i'm loving it, don't get me wrong, but after 32 years of not ever having it, it's totally throwing me for a loop. 

i was mentioning this to rob the other day, and said that i'm just not the type of girl that guys feel like showering with romance and sweetness. rob narrowed his eyes and said, "well, it's more that you inspire guys to run around doing stupid things to see if you're impressed by them, instead of seeing if you're impressed by flowers." i started to object, and then realized he was absolutely right.  as much as i might roll my eyes about it, i like my boys to be, well, boys.  so it makes sense that i would attract the guys whose idea of romancing or wooing someone is not necessarily hearts and candy.  and while i wouldn't be surprised if this one did something random and silly to get my attention (which he does from time to time), he spends a lot of time being sweet and honest and making me feel like the most desirable woman in the world.  which, again, is awesome, but.... different.  and taking some getting used to.  though i have to admit, it's pretty addictive...