Worlds apart

I'm currently sitting here looking at GoogleMaps to see just how far my friend and I will be driving tomorrow to reach our destination for New Year's.

Is it just me who finds maps amazingly fascinating? I live in the metropolis of a southern state in the US and like most other urbannites, I tend to live within my own bubble and forget that other people, cultures, and lifestyles exist beyond a 30-mile radius of me. But ever since I started seeing Dr. Shark--who lives about a hundred miles south of me most of the year--it's made me become more aware of the rest of the region around me.

I mean, truth be told, it's not like there are golden treasures to be found or captivating social studies to be made among the citizens or land outside my city... honestly. It's trees. And dirt. And farmland. That's it.

Nonetheless, I like looking at the map of my state. Well, used to like, at least. I liked looking at the bold print of my city's name and zooming into the familiar neighborhoods and streets and feeling like I'm actually flying over them, and then zooming back out to let my eyes drift down, down, down to the smaller, less prominent name of Dr. Shark's town. I liked recalling my most recent drive down those two-lane highways and passing that particular fruit stand or creek, finally reaching that happy house of his. I liked being with him in a safe small place, in a bigger unfamiliar place, within my own home state, which I've realized I haven't explored thoroughly enough.

Now though, as I'm looking at this map that I've happily stared at countless times over the past few months, I'm feeling pretty sorrowful. My city's name is still there, big and bold as ever, and I see his town where it always is. But now, all I can really focus on is that other name, a little bit more south and west, and in bigger font, where he'll probably move to in a month or so. And be with her. Because even further west is her town... And they want to be central in between his and hers... To be together.

"For the baby."

Playground riddles may have taught us that "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in a baby carriage," but that's never real.

To be real, it goes: First comes lust, then comes love, then comes break-up, then comes break-up sex, then comes break-up for realz, then comes rebound, then comes baby, then comes shacking up, then comes love again.

And then... No more me.

Good riddance, 2011

I don't know about y'all, but I'm totally ready for the new year to start. Aching for it, actually!

Yes, I'm one of those folks who wistfully believes that when midnight strikes on a spankin' new calendar year, things can and will be different. It's all about a fresh start, a clean slate. Of course, it's also all in your own individual minds and souls, and some may argue that you can consciously choose for a new beginning at any moment in your life. But something about New Year's brings hope to my sometimes hopeless life.

At least there's still opportunity for hope, right? Even if it's just once a year!

Last year, I brought in the new year among strangers, in a strange city, while my best friend was tangled up on the couch with her then-ambiguous-hookup-guy-now-husband.

Yes, BFF is married now.

She eloped on Christmas Eve Eve.

Can we talk about that in another post though? I think I've gotten over the initial shock, but I may still be too fragile to talk about the girl that I've known for over decade--the one who decorated my school locker every year for my birthday, and passed notebooks full of giggly, emotional notes about boys and glitter ink with--who is now a married woman. (To a guy I don't fully approve of. Ouch.)

Anyway, back to my point, last New Year's was pretty horrendous. I was all dressed up prettily and surrounded by people I could have been socializing and laughing with, but I had never felt so alone and miserable. I was still stuck in the bowels of my break up with J(erk), and still letting myself think about him during once-in-a-lifetime moments such as the first midnight of 2011, even if it was clear that he wasn't thinking about me.

I should've known that most of the moments following that one would be just as lonely, miserable, and confusing, seeing as how the year started.

What is it about fireworks that seems so magical?

That's why I want the first midnight of 2012 to be different. I need this year to be different! My thoughts will most likely still be consisted of a large concentration of boys (though about Dr. Shark this time), but my setting will be different. I don't want to be surrounded by drunk, wild, sketchy strangers. I originally thought it would be safest and smartest to sleep through it all in the comfort of my own bed, but even I know that's kind of depressing since I'd always made a point to celebrate NYE big and proud.

I'll be driving to the coast with just one girlfriend in tow, and we'll toast champagne while watching the fireworks over the pier. She's had a rough year, and you all know that I've had one as well. We've both leaned on each other for support when our hearts felt too heavy to bear, and I know that I would be honored and happy to spend a quiet New Year's with such a friend as her.

So, here's to a new beginning, y'all. I hope that however or wherever you spend yours, that it brings you peace, happiness, and the opportunity for a fresh start! Sometimes we all just need the opportunity.

Weight lifted

Rege and I had our last ever conversation last night.

In a way, I felt a little bad about it since rejection never feels good. But in another way, I'm glad. Super glad even.

I'm the type of person who needs an ending, a conclusion, a closure. And I finally got it from him. Even if he wasn't a constant presence in my life like Dr. Shark and I certainly didn't feel for him in more ways than sexually, there were always days where I'd wonder about him and be curious if he was wondering about me too. But now that I know... I know.

Surprisingly for me, I'm not sad about him leaving my life. The idea of him hanging over my head was more of a hindrance and brought me more anxiety than it should have when clearly to him I was already gone. Maybe it's time to do a little man-cleaning in my life! Trim the balls, so to speak.

His last words to me were: "Good things usually come to an end, sooner or later." I've deleted him from my phone, all his messages to me, and I'm glad.

Put into more eloquent words

"[Sketching] made me see people again, and that made the hurt of Robert lessen a little, this feeling that I was one among many and that those other people--with their different jackets and glasses and variously shaped and colored eyes--all had had their Roberts, their incredible disasters, their pleasures and regrets. I tried to put pleasure and regret into my sketches of them. Some of them liked being sketched and smiled sideways at me.

Those mornings made it easier, in a small way, for me to accept that I was alone and didn't want to look at other men, although perhaps that would wear off eventually. After about a hundred years."

--The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova, p.296

While reading this book, I really connected with this one character: A young female art student who fell hopelessly for her professor who was married at the time and was struggling through his own demons. She was unsure of her lot in life, she wasn't expecting much out of other people, but their paths crossed and sometimes "it" (the surprising, illogical, irrational "thing") happens. Neither of them were bad people (although, if I had to choose one antagonist, it'd be HIM!), but the timing in their lives weren't in line for them together in the long haul and his situation wouldn't allow to keep her in his life.

This excerpt really speaks to me. As much as everyday is a struggle (for instance, this whole weekend I basically didn't leave the safety of my own couch let alone my house), it really does help to think that I'm not alone. And like this character, being creative keeps me from doing anything outlandish and stupid.

However, also like her, I can't imagine myself with any other man right now. Until our story finishes completely, I can't feel about anyone else than him.

The Stones lied: Time's not on my side

Time is such a strange thing.

At the present moment, I am a part of Dr. Shark's life, but I most likely won't be in his future at all. While my own future is unknown in every possible way--Professional, romantic, even location-wise--His immediate future is pretty set. That's what having a baby does.

He did reveal to me a bit of his very sordid and twisted past. As young of a guy as he is, and as many "serious" relationships he claims to have been in, his magic number is admittedly high. He's done everything from sleeping with married women, pushing the boundaries of his heterosexuality, being the player of other couples' sick fantasies, and yes--He's even been in a threesome. I hope that doesn't come off as judgemental on my part, but the last one came as a surprise to me simply because he's expressed to me many times how a huge sexual fantasy of his is to have a three-way, especially with me.

I guess he meant he wants two hot ladies to be with simutaneously as opposed to being the guest star for another couple, but still! There were three people present, interacting with each other sexually, so that's a fucking threesome.

He says he's calmed down over the years because of his profession and just generally growing older. I have been his latest sexscapade but I'm surely not his last. I've realized that men don't change... won't change... And while he's great in many aspects, I don't think I'll ever be able to trust him. He defended his actions very rationally, saying that he likes to try new things and be adventurous just to know what it feels like, not to brag or boast about his conquests. Some things work out, other things don't. At least he can keep a mental checklist on what he likes and what he doesn't. I'm fine with all that since I've proven to be flexible (both literally and metaphorically!) and adventurous in the sack as well, but I guess my sensitivity with Dr. Shark has grown pretty high over the months.

Despite it all though, and despite his own concession that he's "not marriage material," I find myself still as in love with him as ever. I know that our futures will never line up and that knowledge is slowly breaking my heart, but I'm holding tight to our limited present. Time in general is precious, but time with Dr. Shark I am addicted to.