Toxicity Level - Code Red

I worked late tonight. I almost called you on my way home. I wanted to tell you about the amazing sunset I witnessed over the bridge. Maybe it's all the rain we've had but I don't remember the last time I saw the this vibrant of a red bleed into the Ocean. But I didn't. I didn't call. Suddenly, I've got no one to call.

You would've answered the phone. You would've asked how my evening went. You always did. You would've wowed over my trivial recount of the natural occurrence of a sunset and the oddities of customers served that evening. As always, you would've been up waiting for me to get home. But I didn't call. I could not call.

So instead, as I drove toward the minute apartment that is my current abode, I channeled my energy in fighting every urge to drive "home" . With fondness I recalled your half sleepy face watching TV. Dirty pots in the sink. A half eaten dinner on your plate. Some cheesy show on the screen. I wanted to come home. Even if just to drive by to see if your car was in the driveway. If the light from the TV screen reflected out the windows into the street. Just to see what you were doing. To tell you about the horribly dressed uber-rich participants of my evening at work. But I couldn't. Coming home would mean staying forever and I cannot make that promise. So, with uncontrollable sobs and tears streaming down my face I drove the opposite way wondering what kind of a person passes up the opportunity to be with someone who has no other desire in life but to be with you? A mentally ill one, obviously.

So tonight as I sit alone in my little place furnished with nothing more than a futon, a coffee table that houses my college TV, and a mattress/ box spring combo I feel compelled to make a confession to an audience that doesn't know me, is sometimes willing to listen and is always impartial.

Hello, my name is Ed.
I am 35 years old.
I am a commitment-phobe.

My last relationship lasted about eight years.
My previous relationship fell apart after ten.
The last time I offended and let it all go to shit was two weeks ago.

If you love me, I am toxic.
I should come with a warning sign.
I run from anything that is good for me.
I feel suffocated by those who care for me.
I am cursed by the uncontrollable urge to escape those who genuinely and unconditionally adore me.
My irresponsible behavior irreparably breaks hearts.
Hurting others pains me more than I can explain, but I don't know how to stop.
I am a free spirit, yet I do not want to be alone.
You pull, I run.

If you don't love me, I am bi-polar.
I am attracted by everything that is negative.
I am magnetized by what pushes me away.
I chase you if you don't really want me.
I waste my time and energy wondering why you don't feel for me the way I do.
I am the fall back-gal, the rebound pal.
I am the constant second choice striving to be the number one.
I hurt because you don't love me the way I want you to.
You push, I pull.

I don't know if there is a pill or a cure. I hope to God there is.
I think I want a balanced relationship. One I can shamelessly show the world that I have a heart.
A careless kind of love. A lovy-dovy, mushy-wushy, googly eyed kind.
I don't want to pretend I don't care anymore. I don't want to doubt how he feels.
I demand to shamelessly be the center of someone's existence and them mine.
I long it to be effortless.
I want to miss someone when they are gone, even if for five minutes. I want for that feeling to be mutual.
I aspire to complete and be completed.
In a crowd of a thousand, we are the only two people there.

I'm tired of running....I'm sick of being toxic.

Hello, my name is Ed.
I am 35 years old.
I am a commitment-phobe.
You pull, I run.
You push, I pull.
I caution that prolonged exposure to me is likely to cause severe damage. I strongly suggest one seek cover.

Cu-Cu! Time to Go!

It's somewhat ironic that in most cases it takes an event of catastrophic dimensions to bring two people closer and push the third one away. It's when the going gets tough that you finally get to see where you stand.

The realization that you may actually lose someone that up to that point you've somewhat taken for granted is pretty powerful. So you've galavanted around chasing other skirts and building relationships when suddenly it's all discovered. What do you do now? Do you take action and make the realization that if you found the grass to be greener elsewhere it was a sign of an underlying issue at home? Or maybe it was more along the lines of the thrill of the chase and now it's over. The ten year old that pushes his luck to see how far he can get before they're caught. How about opting to be cowardly and waiting out the storm? After all, if you've been with that person long enough there must be a reason. No one wants to be single again. It's too much work. It is time to backpedal and reiterate all those empty promises that mean so much to others. It's time to pull out all the stops of forgiveness and mercy. It's time to throw out all those "love you", "miss you" and "wish you were here" phrases with no subsistence that somehow have the ability to coat and mend a broken heart. And of course don't forget to add sexual innuendos because those always go a long way.

The second party plays it smart. If you've been the greener grass you know what's at stake. If you let go they walk away without a second thought. However, if you hang on too tight something will snap. The game is on. Time to be supportive of their activities. Time to be caring of their issues. Time to be super nice, sweet and very available. Time to learn how to work the yo-yo of control versus insane jealousy and suspicion. Time to find that weed killer that will turn the proverbial neighbor's greener grass into a desolate mass of brown mush.

I on the other hand, I'm pretty sick of it all. I've been dangling out there like a wind sock in a storm. I haven't been happy in a while. In a long long while. Stuck between one that wants too much and another that doesn't want me enough isn't a good place to be. I need a balance. On one hand I'm tired of having to justify everything I do. On the other hand I'm tired of being the recipient of words that for as nice as they may seem are also being said to someone else. On one hand I'm done pretending I care when I really don't and consequently being guilted into doing what I don't want to do. On the other hand I'm tired of hoping that something will change and I will no longer be a third wheel.

It's somewhat the case that an event of catastrophic dimension brings about some changes. And when said event doesn't bring about those very changes you were hoping for, I'd say it's a big enough hint of where you stand on the totem pole.

Poetry

I am generally not a big fan of poetry. Most of the time I don't get it and the rest of the time it's too deep for me to deal with. But life has been a little up in the air these past two weeks. And, when I came across this excerpt today in some way it just voiced exactly how I've been feeling lately.

- The Invitation -

It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

- Oriah

Writer's block

I miss writing yet lately I can't seem to bring myself to do so. Every day I promise myself another blog post and then the clock ticks by and the day fizzles and with no post. I don't know if it is a lack of time or desire. It's probably also compounded by the fact that I've lost most of my blogger audience. What is the point of writing when no one is there to read it. It's not really as therapeutic this way. The thoughts, topics and discussions are abundant but why is it that I can't sit and write. Maybe it's cuz I can't seem to distance myself long enough from all that is going on to actually write about it. Who knows. All I know is that I miss it.

Domesticate the Beast

I just don't get how some people say that they don't know how to cook. Cooking really doesn't take a genius. Good and simple cooking only takes minimal planning and some imagination. Mind you, I'm no gourmet cook but I manage to make something different for dinner almost every week even if I'm in a pinch. I rarely have time to do much that is relaxing and this past Tuesday I was was in more of a pinch for time than usual. I had to think of a meal quick that would not require much attention. Since I had already previously thawed out a ham steak I figured I had to make do. Pulled out my trusty crock pot. Trimmed my ham steak of it's fat and dumped it in the pot. Peeled some small onions and threw them in whole. In goes a handful of shredded carrots, a couple of cloves of garlic and roughly cubed potatoes. Covered the whole concoction with low sodium chicken broth and added a quarter cup of skim milk for moisture, turned the pot on medium and walked out the door. When I got home a few hours later it was all ready to go! For added health purposes I removed the remaining broth, chilled it and skimmed it of the very little fat that was on it. I brought it back up to boil and tossed in some chopped up bok choi. When the bok choi was cooked I removed it from the liquid that was then turned into the yummiest of gravies with a little addition of starch. And voila I had me a meal of meat so tender it was falling off the bone and an array of soulful veggies. It all took a whole 10 minutes of preparation and just as long to enjoy it all. How can someone call that difficult?

Not to continuously revert to the same old adage but frankly if you have no imagination in kitchen, there is little left to wonder about what one is like in their other domestic abilities including those that take place in the bedroom. ; ) A little advice to those who care to take it; what woman doesn't love a man that can 'cook'.

Old Buzzard

So, I haven't blogged in a while because truth be told I don't feel like myself lately. I'm turning 35 this year but the actual numbers that refer to ones age have never really had any meaning to me. I know 42 year old men that look, feel and act like they were in their thirties. And I know 27 year old ladies that act and look like they are 40+. Numbers really have no other purpose but to keep track of passing time. The actual problem lies elsewhere. It arises when you realize that you no longer recognize the reflection staring back at you in the mirror. We've already established that I've never been a head turner. But in my own defense I'm comfortable saying that I'm also not quite Quasimodo's cousin. So I've noticed that those days spent worshiping the sun are beginning to leave crow's feet around the eyes, and furrows in the forehead. The once shimmery skin tone is ashing. The vibrance of the green in my eyes that has always earned me so many compliments is fading. Even the full head of unmanageable hair that used to have a mind of it's own now just sits there limp on my head. The many curves the body used to take now have an added speedbump right around the mid-section that seems to want to eventually grow into a dirigible. I've tried a little make-up to mask the obscenity my face is becoming just to realize that applying make-up is an art that I never mastered. I've tried looser clothing to mask the battle of the bulge with the result of just looking frumpier. And finally it's the attitude. Usually known for a happy-go-lucky kind of personality I'm instead growing to be insensitive and easily annoyed. There were times when I'd get the occasional compliment. Nowadays I'd even settle for a drunken "you're hot" comment as I don't even remember the last time someone said I looked half decent. Like a 1970 Chevy Chevelle left out to the elements I need a tune up, a new carburator and some major body work. Once, just a few years ago, sitting at a coffee shop I was mistaken for her sister. Now the best I could do is pass for the model of this epic figure. Sigh!

Snapshot of Stuff

I haven't been blogging much lately for many reasons. Mainly I'm a little tired of bitching about the same thing without any type of break in sight. After a while certain status quos take a toll even on resilient people like myself. Then the reality is that no one reads this blog anymore as I don't have the desire to 'push' it. I guess lack of posting does sort of nullify any followers. Also I've been so busy with work that it's been hard to find the appropriate amount of time required to collect thoughts and put them in some kind of sensible and coherent rant. And finally, I've been traveling some albeit for business and not pleasure which requires adequate planning time and all that other stuff that sucks you away from the marvels of blogger. So, since as they say pictures speak louder than words here is a little taste of what I've been experiencing lately. A collage of a few oddities I seem to encounter as time flies by and so does life. Enjoy and ask away.