First...The Plan is still in effect.

But just as I thought it might, the Plan will need to be slightly altered. Some new challenges have presented themselves and I vow to take them on and to do so, the Plan will have to change.

I'm not sure how long it's going to take, how complicated it's going to be, but I still hold on to the fact that there IS a Plan. I'm happy with the possible outcomes, and there are many. I'm nervous for them too, anxious. But I'm not afraid of them. Of change.

No, the Plan will continue.



And on another note. My previous post, the story? Yeah, that's like a stain on the carpet. I can see it, I know how it got there, I've tried to get rid of it, but it won't go away. I can't get this story out of my head but I have no idea how to get through it. I need a cleaner for my writer's brain.

It rained today and I was glad. I woke up, got dressed by Christmas light glow, kissed the manfriend, fed the beasts and walked out into a cool, gently falling rain. GLORIOUS. When it began to get light out, a soft fog kissed the tops of the trees and I paused in my work to watch the sun try to come up. I had a great day at work, fulfilling and I even had a nice thing happen to me. It's so nice actually, you should know it happened, let it inspire you.

I was manning the floor alone and it hadn't been terribly busy but I was working through a little rush when a woman came in with a Saturday morning stroll and cup of Starbucks. I hadn't gotten away to go pee, let alone grab myself a coffee. She left and I mentioned out loud to the woman behind her how good that cup of joe smelled.

She smiled, "Want one? Let me buy you a coffee."

I started to protest, but she wouldn't hear it. "No, no," she said, "It'll make me feel good. Let me do it. What do you take in it? Cream and sugar?" 

I stared at this woman, aghast at her kindness and could only nod. "Yes, um, cream and sugar." 

She grinned and promised to come back in just a few minutes.  Sure enough, she brought me back a coffee from the Starbucks next door, a venti even and another smile. She reached into her bag and brought out a piece of chocolate cake.

"I hope you can have chocolate." 

I fell over myself saying thank you at her sudden kindness and it was then I realized I didn't even know her name. She told me and I told her mine, shook her hand and showered her again with thanks, promising to do something similar for someone soon. It DOES feel good and I will-as corny as it might sound-pay it forward.

After work, the sun was out but the air still held coolness from the rain and I got home, started cooking dinner for me and the manfriend. It's dinner and movie tonight, at home, together with the beasts and it will be the perfect ending to a pretty fine day.

Today is one of those days when things feel right. When I know that whatever happens, will happen and I will be able to deal with it. I'm feelin' good today and instead of saying, "I hope it lasts" like I might have in the past, I already know it will.

Go have a coffee and a piece of chocolate cake in the rain. Trust me, it's bliss.

I have a Plan.  It deserves capital letters because it's new, and big, and mine. The Plan is subject to change without warning at any time.

I have a Plan (and right about here is when it starts to sound like Martin's "I have a dream" speech in my head) and I'm going to execute it like a grown up.

I've never done this before and technically speaking, I've been a grown up for a while now.  It is time.

I don't know if things will work out. I don't know if I'll be able to find everything I want, need, or am even looking for. But I can recognize when things need to be different.

Note to self: Sometimes, things you don't like happen and there's nothing you can do about it.  Things that you wish you'd never seen are right in your field of vision. And sometimes, even if you know it's the right thing to do, it still feels bad. Do not let this stall you. Proceed with the Plan.

I need to try.

I know exactly what I'm aiming for and I know how scary it is. There are goals included in the Plan that are big and some that are less daunting.

I need to do this. I want to do this. I am doing this.

So that I can learn to be more accepting, more patient with myself. So I can aim for something different because I recognize things need to be.

I need to go forth with the Plan because the Plan is me.

Sometimes it just isn't a good time, you know? Sometimes it's just a day that goes by. A day when work is just that. Maybe the work day went by fast. Maybe you end the day with a take out meal from the noodle place next door. Maybe you come home and you unlock the door and you say hello to your pets and you wish you weren't walking into an empty house.

Sometimes, it isn't empty. Sometimes, you still feel like it does. And sometimes you think about that feeling and sometimes you just accept it.

Maybe you're glad the weather isn't as hot as it has been and one of your favorite tv shows is on and your boyfriend called just to say hi, that he might be late, but he is coming home and then your best friend stops by.

Sometimes she brings you a sweet pea flower bouquet from the farmer's market and it makes you cry and you blame it on being a stupid girl and not pms cause you're tired of that excuse.

Sometimes, one tear and a little sniffle is enough and maybe this time it is. 

Maybe having your best friend let you have that tear and then putting the flowers in a vase while you continue getting out whatever it is that you need to, out, is enough too. And maybe having her talk about something as random as 'anal glands and their expulsion' is enough to make your fingers pause on the keyboard, your eyebrow go up and a giggle to escape because, yes, she said 'anal glands'.

And then you're laughing instead of wishing that tear had never happened and whatever was in, is on it's way out and you don't feel like you need to have as big of a freakout as you thought when you first sat down at the computer.

So you think of a close, of how to end it, and you smile a little because you did what you have so often done in the past that you weren't even sure you could do anymore.

You wrote it out. And sometimes, it just isn't a good time. It just is.

These words came to me last night just before sleep.


Muffled screams
that do nothing
but lead to
questions
why
when
how
can I sleep
with you beside me
listening to my
muffled screams

 

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I've made you feel that you can't be yourself. I'm sorry that I've made you feel that you aren't entitled to have the feelings that you do.

It's ok to feel insecure sometimes. It's ok to not understand every detail. It's ok to ask questions and mull over the answers, decide whether it's what you wanted to know in the first place.

I'm sorry if for one second, you felt unsure about your reaction to something. It's ok to be upset. It's ok to cry. It's ok if crying is what your first response to stressful or frustrating circumstances is. It's ok to doubt an answer to a question or a look or feel that tiny twinge of jealousy.

It's ok to say that doubt is there. It's ok to talk about finding solutions and voicing your opinion and letting yourself feel. It really is ok.

I'm sorry for every moment you might have felt like pulling out your hair or screaming or hiding under the blankets. It's ok to have those moments. It's ok to let yourself have those moments. IT'S OK TO LET YOURSELF HAVE THOSE MOMENTS.


I'm sorry you have trouble accepting that.  But it's ok that you do. It's who you are, it's the way you are, it's why you are. It's you.

It's been a long time, and there's much to tell but not a lot to share.

I'm happy. 

A few people might feel as though they helped it happen and they might be right, but eventually, only we could find each other. He makes me smile and laugh and believe. He kisses me good morning, night's breath be damned. He makes me little origami pigs out of restaurant paper napkin rings and brings my jacket to work when I forget it. He brings me lilacs.


I'm learning.

Many people told me it would be ok. That things would start to even out and I would feel like things were my own, but I doubted them. I shook my head and cried by myself, frustrated. But the tears became less frequent and the frustrations became challenges instead of battles already lost. I started saying what I really wanted to say and thinking before I said it. The waves have started to calm.


I'm being. Me.

"You must have had a bad dream last night. Do you remember it?"

Yes.

She lay in the middle of the bare mattress, her eyes staring into nowhere. Her wrists and ankles were tied to the corners with rope, slightly frayed at the edges.  She wore a faded flannel nightgown that was oddly familiar. She was dead. I sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her, waiting for her to blink. To breathe again. Strangers stood behind me, surrounding me with whispers. "Touch her."  "Are you sure she's really dead?" "Find out."  I leaned closer, frightened at the thought she might shift her gaze to mine. "Find out." The last incantation rang in my ears, invading me. I already knew.

"You were moaning. You cried out 'No'."  He reached for my hand, laced his fingers with mine. "You ok?"

Yes. 

Fingers resting on the keys. A blinking cursor taunting me. Thoughts whirling about work, friends, sex, the way my hair looks in this ridiculous ponytail. A book lying on the table seems like the way to spend the evening but my hand strays to the remote control and suddenly I'm watching Family Guy. Sort of. And wanting a cigarette to mingle with the taste of beer on my tongue. 

I start thinking about tomorrow, what will happen, what won't. I think about the things I have to do, the things I want to do, the things I will do. I start thinking about how maybe I just fucking think too much.

I start reflecting on my day (and the dulce de leche flavored Haagen-Dazs in the freezer) while I think about how I ran into the mom of a childhood friend. How she asked me about my mom and for just a moment I had to think about how to respond. I reflect on how odd it is to be having the most mundane little chit chat and in a split second your heart has fallen into your shoes and you're talking about death.  

And then Stewie is singing with a banjo and laughter takes over the dark thoughts.

Another one tries to sneak in when I remember that during a conversation wtih my dad earlier today, he told me about how he had a 'friend' over on Saturday. Valentine's Day. And they drank wine and his friend stayed over and as he told me, I was ok with it. And I wonder if I will still be ok when I think about it more.

I start to smile at the thought that maybe I shouldn't have had that second glass of beer at dinner cause I'm actually a little buzzed and then I smile a bit wider knowing that you might be as you read this. I think about how silly and kind of pointless this particular blog is, but that it doesn't really matter cause it's mine.

Another episode of Family Guy comes on but I've seen this one before. It's the one where Peter sends Lois on a scavenger hunt for their anniversary so he can play golf and the book on the table is suddenly more appealing. Or a movie, since I go in to work late tomorrow. 

My fingers aren't finding words anymore. They just lay quiet on the keys. My mind is no longer whirling but slightly humming, comfortable in its thoughts.

And I'm done.

Word Document


It has been a long time, but I haven't forgotten your pull. I've thought of you in the most inappropriate times and not nearly enough. And now...
 
I've come back to you. I will caress you. I will become familiar with the way you move, respond to my touch. I will know you. I will never hesitate to manipulate you because it's too easy not to. I will not ask you to surrender. I will simply take over you. Everything you thought you knew, was nothing until I told you what it was. You will become mine again with only a few whispers. Only a few strokes of promise.

And you will  be mine. Feeling my words...under my spell. I will stop you only when I'm ready. When it becomes too much and just enough at exactly the right time.