November 15, 2009

• Fair to say…

  I tend to sit here and stare at the blank screen for a while before I can begin to write. I usually want to say something, but have no idea what to say, so I opt instead to talk about everything and nothing. That probably sums me up well, someone who says everything and nothing at all.

  My point is that I would like for my posts to have some sort of organized, coherent point, but that never really ends up happening. Interestingly enough, that sums up my life pretty well. It usually goes well past the opposite of whatever I thought might happen.

  I’ve noticed that within the last two years or so, many of my peers have gotten married. This is an eye opener for me, only because my “decision” to get married was so different than theirs have been so far. I actually like to look at their wedding photos and hear about their “big day.” I’m fascinated with people, especially those that are so hopelessly traditional.

  I’ve been married for over three years now (hooray!). And yes, that did not happen like I thought, or maybe dreamed, it would. While first dating my husband, my whole family and even psychologist told me to break it off. He was going through some deeply troubling issues, which had nothing to do with me, except for the fact that I was there. I don’t blame him, or resent him, for the way he treated me. I took it, and just kept coming back for more. It was my decision, though I can’t say to what extent the psychotropic drugs were pushing me to make irrational decisions, but I knew what I was doing, even if no one else (including my husband) could understand.

  It was strange how quickly we became close, as if it happened over night (is that one word?). In the beginning, he tried to stay emotionally detached from me but it was incredible how rapidly that turned around.

  If I had dated more, it would have become very obvious that I am a chaser. There is no bigger prize for me than to earn someone’s affection and adoration but then the game is over. I was then the one who tried to detach. But I’m also passive-aggresive about it, you know, as in the girl who suddenly becomes a bitch to be around in the hopes that you will stop wanting to be around her. And wouldn’t you know? As I stood by him, he never left my side.

  At first site, ours doesn’t seem like a whirlwind romance. Maybe it wasn’t, I don’t really look at it that way. I could never let go of him, and it’s even more true than before. My heart wouldn’t just break, pieces of it would be lost forever. I know he knows this. A tremendous part of me wants the world to know it as well. I really need to stop being so afraid to let my colors show. I was unabashedly myself once, maybe I can retrieve that.

  • 12:03 am
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