Reason, Season, or Lifetime

No one ever thinks about how long life really is. Every morning when you wake, you have 86400 seconds with which to work. You can do anything you want 86400 times! Meet new people, go new places, see new things. Anything.

31.5 million opportunities in a year to change your mind. And sometimes, you do.

I grew up way too fast. And now, at the ripe old age of 27, I feel like an old maid.

On more than one occasion, I have looked around me and wondered whose life I was living because surely, I would have made better choices. Regardless of where I thought I would be by now, I am where I am. And I am who I am. And who I am changes 86400 times every day.


I guess my question is: How do you tell people that you've changed? Should you?

I don't know what to do here. There are so many people that I can no longer find room for in my life. There's the guy who lied. But that's not new to me. What was new was the feeling that I deserved better than him. How am I supposed to goodbye to him? I've never done it before without an argument. The screaming and the yelling, the cursing and the blame. Those are my old normal. But they don't fit the new me.

The friends that I used to get in trouble with. How do I say that I don't do trouble anymore? They want to see me and I'm running out of excuses. All I really have are reasons. We are no longer alike and thus, there's no room in my life for them anymore. But I can't say that. Can I?

And what about the other people in my life? The ones that I never truly fit but I forced anyway?

I spent years feeling like a lost puzzle piece. Like something was wrong with me because I had this wonky corner. And there was always someone, their puzzle having a few missing pieces, that was more than willing to let me wiggle in and see if I fit.

You've been there before. You have that one weirdly shaped puzzle piece that has the right coloring and would fit perfectly if it weren't for that wonky corner. I have a wonky corner. And I pressed and pressed myself into other people's puzzles while knowing deep down that I didn't fit.

But I've started to accept my wonky corner and to love it because it makes me special. And as hard as it is, I'm pulling free from other people's puzzles. It's hard. I'm a little battered and bruised. A little bent and torn. But I'm still me. I'm still a little wonky. And I'm finally OK with it.

pic found here

Strange Things Are Happening to Me

I have the best therapist in the world. You may think I'm exaggerating  but I'm not. I think that everyone should have a counselor as wonderful as mine. She listens and engages in real conversation with me. She never makes me feel like I'm crazy or invalid. Her ideas and solutions are relevant to my life and situation and she's as honest with me as I would want anyone to be.

So, when she tells me something, I listen. Intently. And I rarely hesitate to put her ideas and suggestions into action. She always applauds me for it. I can't tell you when the last time I felt like someone was truly proud of me. She makes me feel proud of myself. For who I am. Just the way I am.

It's like she gets me. So can you see why I was completely confused when she asked me why I continue to use her services? I...I...well, I laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed. Until, I looked up and she was not laughing along with me. She was dead serious. My therapist asked me outright why I continue to come see her and spend money when I have two people in my life giving me the exact same advice.

She said that they are wise and noble and love me. They love me. Just the way I am.

That's why C always gives me the lectures when I'm going to do something stupid. That's why C laughs when I dribble water out of my mouth and down the front of my shirt. Or is the only person who can hear my gimp when I walk in heels. C listens to me cry and whine and tell the same stories. She believes me when I tell her something new. Because she knows that for all my gossip, I keep some things close to my chest. C understands that just because I didn't mention it doesn't mean it didn't hurt and just because it hurts doesn't mean I won't forgive you. She'll ask me to say something nice about myself and when I come up with nothing, she'll ask me to name 20 things about her. When I'm done, my eyes glowing with pride and worship, C simply says, "You and I are a lot alike." I want to tell her how much she's touched me but I know that she can see past the grin on my face to the shock and sadness in my eyes. For all that I am, I am not self-assured.

E is the man I want to marry but know I never will. If it weren't for the distance and the fact that we don't want to see each other naked, it might be a possibility. Even my therapist thinks we should date. But, if we did, I would risk losing a wonderful friend. When I was racing head-on towards a cliff (and after C had given me three days worth of reasons not to do it), he wrote me an email that included: four thumbs down, a metaphor about a cliff, a confession that he had once been a cliff, a threat to shake me by the shoulders, and the reassurance that he was giving me all the credit in the world and that's why he knew that I deserved so much more than I was allowing myself to settle for. He tells me to get up and run when I just want to eat ice cream and weep. He tells me I'm worthy when I can't imagine that anyone could love me. E tells me that I'm funny when I'm just giving him a hard time. And whenever I try to thank him for something that he's done, he makes sure to razz me on how long it took to show my appreciation. For someone that's never even held my hand, E is one of my biggest cheerleaders and I wouldn't want it any other way.

When I think about C & E and how well they know me, I want to weep. I'm weeping now. Because they know me. The know happy me, sad me, lonely me, open me, angry me, scared me, me. And they love me anyway. C & E have never wanted anything except to be my friend and I've never felt required to do anything to make either of them stay. I'd never known that feeling until now.

To compare the other people in my life to them would be unfair. Because no one could ever give what they've given me. No one could ever come close. And that makes all the difference.