Well, it has been months since my last post, I admit. I'm not going to apologize or make excuses. I'm only going to say that I'm going to do a better job at writing more often. It's good for my soul.
Part of the reason for my absence is yet another lesson in being a self contained, internal locus of control type human, rather than one who allows others to influence me too much - yes, as always there is a balance between being open to feedback and being like a feather in the breeze.
I was writing rather regularly and frequently and then, a reader of my blog told me she wished I would write about more positive things, not wallowing or talking about my divorce, break ups, and other things that make me, well me, and make up the fabric of my story. So, while I appreciate the feedback and do welcome it, I realize that I took it too literally and it made me lose my writing voice a little bit. My voice is my voice - sometimes angry, sometimes bitter, and sometimes in love with life and all who are part of it. Maybe I'm manic, but take me as I am. Dear Reader, I'm not angry with your feedback and I don't hold a grudge. I believe in being honest. I'm just standing up and saying, corny as it is, thanks for the advice but..Please don't take it the wrong way - it's my lesson more than anything... my ongoing lesson in being comfortable and maybe even a little happy with who I am, head to toe.
The beauty of self expression and freedom is that there are times when I want to wallow, or times when I'm feeling reflective, more than others. Sometimes I am full of ideas or plans, restuarant critiques, and other times I want to talk about the woes of dating or the trauma of divorce. The beauty of being who you are, in its purest form, is that it is uniquely you, and it will appeal to some people some of the time. Take it or leave it.
So, I'm back.
I need to do this because I have so much to say. As life goes on and on, so many things happen in a given week, so add months to that and there is a lot to tell. I won't get too bogged down. I'll just take it one memory at a time. These past couple of months, I was sexually assaulted, I tried online dating for a month, am now officially divorced, had my ex-husband leave for the army and come back all in one go, due to unacceptable details in our divorce decree, and have almost walked away from my job. It has been really interesting to say the least, but this is how life goes.
I went on a walk around Lake Harriet early this morning with a friend and we talked about wanting to collaborate on a book. We really should. She has an amazing story - stories within her story, actually. And the same is true of me.
Since I have not written for months, there is a lot of ground to cover. But I'm going to start out small.
The small is the hilarity of coincidence - call it what you will - some say there is no such thing as coincidence and I haven't committed to either side of the argument.
Anyway, I may have written about this in a previous post. In May I gave my phone number to a bartender. Weird. I had never done that before and I'll admit to having had a few drinks - daytime drinking always gets me. So, after much prompting and pressuring by my friend, I left my phone number on the receipt. I was shocked when he actually sent me a text the next day. I never expected to hear from him. Now, I have to go back and check my old posts because I'm curious about how much detail I went into in this post. Damn. Imagine my disappointment in discovering that I skipped from January to July in blogging. That'll teach me to be better about regular writing.
Okay, I have to lay some ground work. He did text me. We went on, I think, 3 or 4 dates, which included sleeping over at his place. We were intimate. On the last "date", he brought "The King's Speech" over and we watched it, snuggling on the couch. Then we made out. After sort of having sex, (it was really really quick), he freaked out and left. Before leaving, he ran around my apartment looking for his shoes. The freak out prompt may have been that I told him he smelled good. He said, "Stop saying that. You're freaking me out." He also said, "I can't stay here. I'm sorry. It's just one of my many hang-ups and you know I have quite a few." (I had gotten a couple of inklings of OCD-esque behavior, but none of it was alarming or seemingly abnormal) - until this night... I helped him find his shoes, while I was wrapped up in a shirt, still naked. He did pause to say, "Are you naked? Cool!"
I was understanding- after all, I don't really like to sleep at someone else's house and have almost had a near freak out myself, just waiting for morning to burn it out of there before breakfast, coffee or awkward conversation. It didn't seem like that big of a deal. So, as he ran down my stairs to get his bike and leave, I thought I was being funny and said, "Good thing I don't have low self esteem." And that my friends, was the end. I never heard from him again. I waited a couple of days and sent him a text that said "Whatever made you freak out, don't worry about it." No reply. No explanation. I may never know. Haven't really cared to know as, quite honestly, there is something really wrong with a guy who has to flee like that and can never offer an apology or explanation.
So, as fate would have it, tonight at the deli counter of the grocery store, I turned around because there was someone behind me. I looked. And then I did a double take because it was him. I said a simple, "Oh, hey" and he looked momentarily displaced. I turned back to the deli counter helper and then the old escaping bartender disappeared. Imagine his memory engaging itself and the horror of recalling his adolescent behavior.
I think it's pretty amazing to have run into him after so many months. I don't have his phone number anymore. I was sure to erase that. But it was hilarious. I wish I knew what had happened in his brain so I could wrap the story up all nice and tidy like a Christmas present, but maybe speculation is the best gift of all.
Happy reading! I am excited to be writing again.
