finally....
This song by Billy Ocean runs thru my head. "Suddenly". Song what talks about life's sudden new meaning to him. "There's glory up above, and things we never take notice of, you wake up and suddenly, you're in love".
I wonder what the flip side is to that. You wake up and suddenly you're out of love? I guess. I also guess that, above named song, whose ironic side I wanted to use, will not suit my purposes. I'm babbling. Shows my state of mind.
Okay, I've finally hit rock bottom. I've finally given up. Am working on accepting it. But right now, I'm exhausted. From my brain right down to my feet. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. So I guess, this is it. MEN, Patricia. Part ways. Forever.
I guess it's never been meant to be. I mean, all I've been doing is taking a cold hard look at my rap sheet. I don't know if I'm the one picking up all the losers, or I just happen to be a hardcore card carrying member of the losing club. I've drawn a really painful conclusion that there's an elite club of people on earth who really believe in love and spend most of their lives searching for it. Never happen though. See, they're different from the ones who believe and eventually find, and the ones who couldn't give a damn but find it every corner they turn. I guess there are also those who don't care and don't find. All the above named are the winners. Happy endings all around. Even if they did shed a few tears along the way.
But my club: the elite eventual losers, we're the ones who raise stock prices for Kleenex and Prozac. It's hard. Facing that.
It's like I never would get it. You don't get it, do you? Tricia girl? Not everyone was born as part of a couple. It's really sad. I think I should been told that when I was like thirteen. A lot of the heartache that's been most of my life would have been left where heartaches come from.
I can't believe I'm back here again. At the same time, I'm not too surprised. This shit happens over and over and over, and over and over... okay, is there a point where I finally get it?....
...(Continued Sat night- 7/9)
So yeah, I was asking, is there a freaking point where I finally get it? I guess this is it. Woke up this morning begging God, please let it go. Help me let it go. I don't care what you do or how you do it. Let this hell be over. This crap has to stop. Now. There's no earthly reason why I always am the one ending up with the short end of the stick. All the fucking time. Here I am, heart slowly bleeding over my insides while he is out there doing God knows what with God knows who. I'm on the phone with him Thurs night and he says I gotta go use the restroom, will call you back. I'm still waiting for him to call. It's Sat night. It's inconsiderate shit like that that makes me say, you know what, this gotta end.
So here I am. I think I've finally lost faith in the love legend. I guess that's all there is to it. Legend, myth, fable. I mean, I had been thinking that I still believe it's out there. Maybe not meant for me to experience but it was definitely out there, happening for some people. Now I'm not so sure. I done seen men AND women swear by all they hold sacred how they love someone then go out and ... God.
It's happening. The very thing I've been dreading and praying won't happen. I used to pray when I was a teenager not to let my bad experiences mold me into a bitter adult. I might not be bitter now, but I have definitely lost all faith in love and myself; it's starting to edge towarsds my faith in God. And in Sting's words: If I ever lose my faith in you, there is nothing left for me to do. As is true. I'm sitting here pondering the rest of my life and I see nothing but emptiness. A long gray dull mind-numbing emptiness. You'll call me melodramatic. Whatever. Things just ain't too bright from where I'm standing and that's how I'm calling it.
30 years old and not one damn good relationship I can call mine. The only fond one I can even touch on was with Stan himself, and even that's been tainted. What with current events all souring my thinking. Yup, at a certain point, you finally get it. I guess I've gotten there. Finally.
It's a cold hard place to be.

 
HEART REALLY REALLY NOT SMART. AT ALL.
Today, some possibly sexually repressed punk along with a coupla his equally frustrated buddies decided to give Londoners a free first hand show of what the WTC looked like on 9/11.
That also means that I spent most of my day alternately worrying and crying about Stan. I know I'm working on cutting him loose, but coming face to face with the raw fear of even the slightest possibility of danger to the one who has the final say so on all your heartstrings( whew, long ass sentence!), well, it can make all your resolutions fly right outta ya head. In layman's terms, I suddenly realized I'd probably not make it if anything happened to Stan. THAT floored me. I mean, here I am, working my butt off, along with God,praying, praying, praying for strength, and trying to keep my distance. All the while knowing that I still love him, a lot. Whole whole lot. But allowing my pride and my head, to talk to me, for once. So yeah, it's been these two parts of me, along with God's everloving mercy, that have given me any kind of strength where Stan aka my heart, is concerned.
So it's been one day at a time. Pride and Head holding my hands back when he calls so I can watch the phone ring without dashing at breakneck speed to answer. They also hold my hand from calling back. Most of all, Pride is able to whisper me to sleep when I don't hear from him. Head helps me eat. God watches over all this and helps me try to carve out a normal life, one hour at a time.
Then bam!, terrorists hit London. Subway system, also known as my baby Stan's limousine, SUV, taxi, bike. His sole mode of transport. I start calling him. Cellphone communcation is at a standstill. I need to hear his voice. ASAP. Keep calling and calling. Can't get thru. Monitoring MSNBC, CNN, FOXNews. Total carnage. Need to hear his voice. It's not happening. I WANT TO DIE. I call and call and call then, bam!, I get thru to one of his cell phones. Can't believe it. It goes straight to voice mail. Try the other one. Busy, but keep calling till I get thru. Can u believe the durned phone rang and rang without its owner answering? I did it all again. Busy till I get thru, phone rings. No pick up. I start praying- God, let him be okay. I don't care if he is with some hoochie somewhere so he's not picking up. Just don't let him be trapped under some carnage somewhere, unable to get to his phone. Careful, Tricia, about the things you pray for:
I muster courage( I get nervous speaking to his dad on the phone, why, I don't know) and call his house line. Dad answers, is really nice and tells me Stan is fine. Gone out, though. I'm like what the muthafuck??!!! Excuse me, but didn't London just get its ass bombed and have its entire subway system grind to a freaking halt? Isn't the durn city still on alert? What, what, what would make a sane person go back out into that chaos after being home safely with nary a scratch? (He'd been home all day. Didn't go to work.) Shows God is trying to to keep your wanderlusting ass safe. You go back out there, if I were God, I be like you're on your own this time negro, I've got REAL victims and families to attend to.
Anyway, back to my question. WHY oh WHY and WHAT would make a person go out tonight of all nights? Boredom, curiosity, concern 4 ya friends, another woman, what?
Ain't enough ass in this world to make me go out into that chaos. I mean, people are probably stranded or fighting to get home, transportation and communication being as limited as it is.
So, Stan is back on my shitlist. Now I'm pissed off to indifference about him. I mean, you won't call to let folks know you're okay, and when THEY call YOU, you aren't answering, for reasons best known to you and God. Oh wow. I realized I prayed that he was okay, even if he's holed up with some some skank.
I'm hoping that it's not true. This shit being one, no, most of the reason why I'm walking away from him. I don't have trust issues( fuck you, Ren). Stan just can't be trusted. I mean, he's been uncharacteristically affectionate with me this week, and is telling me he's going out of town to visit an old buddy. I haven't believed a single sentence he's told me. Dude is up to something. But I do know his head is screwed on right. I just don't see him going out into that kind of craziness just to get a piece of tail. Can't believe I just said that without totally losing it.
Maybe deep in my heart, I know it's not true. Or maybe, just maybe, my heart really ain't so smart.