In the end

I spent the day in a meeting. A meeting about things I didn't really understand. Taking notes and wondering how it was I got here. I sent a text to my mother. "I have a bad feeling," I wrote. "Please call and see." The meeting ran long. I figured she hadn't heard back. But in the back of my mind I knew. I knew before I sent the message. It was already a fact.

So home I drove, annoyed that I had spent my day so counterproductively. This wasn't the dream. It didn't even rank on the scale. Actually, it was something I would force someone to do as a type of purgatory. But hey, it's a job... right.

I complained to myself. But there are worse things. I knew.

I came home. To a kitchen in use. A rarity in my house. I got to the corner of the stove and everything was clear. I could read it in my mother's eyes. Even before she spoke.

"I'm sorry" she said. And in that moment, in those words a lifetime of sorrow built and the tears fell, for just a moment. I can't really do the emotion justice. I don't think. It was like knowing that the hurt and anguish of not knowing him had been released from but also permanently locked into my mind. I will always know that I didn't know the man who is half of me, but in that same thought, I never have to fear his reactions or judgments, his anger or resentment, ever again.

Sometimes I feel like this evil person. This woman, with no regard for the meaning of his life. But then I feel as though he never really appreciated the value of mine either.... and the relief is, well, it really isn't.

I know the guilt is perhaps misplaced. I know that the anger I bear him is somewhat useless... being that he is gone. But I can't seem to dismiss it. It is there, just as he never was. These mixed emotions that toy with my dreams and live in my mind, a resident that will not pay, but also will not leave.

Sometimes I find myself longing to shut off. So that I can forget. Just put the world on pause so that all of the anger and grief and happiness and regret and joy and longing can be held at bay. But a girl can't shut off a part of herself... can she?

Someday I will think of him and just be at peace. I will look inside myself and feel like he had this chance to change his relationship with his oldest child and he just didn't, but it will be okay. Because, in his own way, he did shape who I am. In his absence I experienced an entirely different life than I would have had with him around. And someday I will be okay with all of it. I will. Really.

I'm so tangled

Father's day is coming soon. Slowly it is approaching. Radio commercials and television ads keep telling me the same thing over and over again. "You don't have a father anymore," they whisper to me.... like a subliminal message. I'm not writing for pity, it's just that the feeling is so weird. When he was an absent father he was still my dad, just a crappy one. Now he is a man I barely knew who was my father, but who really didn't ever see the happy end of a hallmark card. You know? It's stressful, this self indulgent sorrow. The jealousy I carry around for people who don't have to think about this stuff. I push it away, I do, but it creeps back. Every single time. I don't want to feel this way. But then again, I have felt this way pretty much since I was a kid. Okay, so this next part is hard to say and it is rather embarrassing, but that is sort of what this place is for me. A place to be the most honest I can, no matter what right? Well, if your father doesn't love you. If he doesn't love himself and half of him is you... me, then who will love me? I mean, and I'm saying it poorly, that I find it hard to believe that anyone could love me. At least all of me, not just pieces, based on the notion that I find it very hard to love the half of myself that comes from him. And I'm not simple, so I know that comes across to other people. I am scared. That I will always feel that emptiness. It is truly terrifying to be that person. With the missing piece. It feels like a kind of defect. A forever flaw. I hope that it doesn't last forever. It makes me feel sad.

His heart

Dreaming of his heart
of the illusive nature
The never ending chase
Chosing to love someone
Who can simply never love you back.
Freudian???
Probably.
Escapable???
I hope so.
Found a pattern
Can't seem to shake it.
Want to be the apple
Turn out to be the core.
Essential,
Strong,
but tossed away.

Choices

Trying to decide which Masters Program to pursue.... I'm thinking literature... cause how amazing would it be to teach classes about literature. I imagine that it would change the way I look at the world. To meet so many people and to read their ideas... to be able to honestly tell them how to improve their work... or better yet, to help them show each other how to get better... It is a prospect that I am so excited about. I guess I never realized how excited I would be about it... time to sleep and consider.... Humanities or Literature...

My little sister just graduated from high school, with her associates degree.... as the valedictorian. I am so proud!

When the words build up
And I’m choked on the thoughts in my own mind
When I’m scared to speak
Because the words aren’t enough
And too much
When tears slide down my cheeks
And my mascara smears the cream of my pillow case
I drown in thoughts of you

Of the way you were a stranger
And forever a thread in the fabric of who I have become
When I dream of you
Because to forget you
Is too much to bear

When my love
And hate
And the need to forgive
And the unending confusion
Intertwine with every thought
And I am lost in where you end
And where you begin in me
My heart
The person I am

The days feed upon themselves
As I watch from outside of who I am
And see
That words don’t say it correctly
The words are too much
And at once
Never enough
When I’m dying to forget
And yearning to remember

You broke my heart by living
And ripped into my soul when you died
Strangled
And singing
A panic moment of relief
And sorrow
And fear
And joy
And shame

I wonder if I will ever feel right
About loving you
When you are the one person
I best know how to hate.
I miss you
But don’t want you back

People I Love

To my friends at home... I love you all and I miss you even though I saw you only days ago... I can't wait to see you all again soon. I can't wait to be an Auntie to my "adopted" niece and or nephew to be... I can't wait to walk back into the best friendships I have ever know. I am a lucky woman... no matter where I am, because I know you are all there and I am here for you no matter what!!!

Dancing in the car

Couldn't pay attention today. The day was so long and people just kept on talking about things that I just don't understand. I had to walk back to my car on crutches after sitting in a meeting room for 10 hours. I wanted to cry. To wallow in the meaninglessness of it all. I really wanted to come home and be grumpy. To be mad at the whole world! And maybe a little part of me will be... But I got into the car and I danced all the way home. (I even danced to "the Climb" by Miley Cyrus)... An admission that may knock me down a little, but I will get back up... haha. I let go and I went car dance crazy. It was great. Just those few minutes of mental freedom.

It makes me wonder if my dad ever had moments like that. If he ever just let himself be goofy and fun and free. I never knew that side of him. The free side, the happy side. I never really saw him be a person. I always saw him be this once in a while mythical type figure that was so unhappy. He was angry and grouchy and I can't remeber what he looked like when he smiled. I'm sure I saw it... maybe, but I really don't remeber.

Did he ever dance in the car? Did he have rhythm? Did he sing along when nobody was looking?

The dad I knew drank while he drove. He smoked until it ate him from the inside. He cursed me for wanting a life without the pain of his presence. And I was no better, because I torchered myself, maybe I always will, because I think about him every day. Every single day.

Maybe that is what drives me to dance in the car... or sing in the grocery store. Maybe I have to make myself unlike him. But who knows... maybe he did those things. I really wish I knew. I wish he had been a different man. Or maybe that I could have been a different daughter to him.

He didn't say goodbye. Not once ever did he think to call... and I didn't either. It makes me sad to think that I will never have that moment with him. No moments with him...

So I will dance in the car. And I will choose to think that he had some good times... he had to. He loved the outdoors and he wanted to be free. I am like that.... I have the same wave in my hair that he had and maybe I got my creative spirit from him. He loved Westerns and I love them too. So I will dance in my car... and chose to believe that he was happy at least for a while in his life.

Maybe I will not cry so much if I think of him that way. Maybe I will miss him less if I can think of him happy. It makes me feel kind of empty when I think of him hating the majority of his life... So instead, I will dance in my car.

Who is she and why is she strangling my spirit??

There is nothing sadder to me than the thought of leaving this world with regret. To spend your days living as someone you don't respect. Living as someone so entirely outside of yourself that you imprison that person you are meant to be on the inside... in some dark corner of yourself until you stifle all that she is and she slowly withers to be that creepy alien thing that comes out of that guys stomach at the end of Spaceballs... sure it will dance and sing a jaunty show tune, but it's gross... and you're dead once it escapes. And where is the fun in that? But really, in a more focused way, what does it say about your self esteem? Nothing good. Do I really hate myself that much? And if not, if I look inside and like the woman that is hiding in there, then why am I locking her so deeply away.

Dance I say! Speak, sing paint, draw, look, listen, yell, cry, walk, crawl. Love. Forgive. Feel. I will no longer stand inside myself. No longer do the dance of the self loathing American member of mediocrity building up my 401K so that I can retire with a house full of crap I don't use. I moved myself 2,000 miles, once again to bury myself back in that decaying pile of secretarial misery with a government name boost???? I don't think so. I want to love who I am enough to be able to enjoy the choices that I have made and the life I am living. Who cares if the world doesn't think that I am making the right choices... actually, most of the world isn't even thinking about my choices, or me at all, so why do I spend so much time thinking about them? I think that my greatest failure is wallowing in the fear that I am not living up to other people. I just want to know that I am capable of having what other people have you know?? That I will be able to find a healthy place in my own head so that I can allow someone to love me without feeling like they are going to disappear. I want to live. Love. Let go of the baggage and travel a bit lighter.

I sprained my ankle.... and have no cool story about it. SAD FACE. Oh well.

Overcome with emotion.
Taken over by a reaction.
Overwhelmed by the presence of chemicals in my brain.
It isn’t so farfetched.
Actually, it is a reality that I have grown rather accustomed to.
I am often lost in my own mind
Overthinking
Concentrating on the what ifs instead of the right now
I shy away from making plans for the future
But I fear that I won’t find one
It eats away at the very core of who I am
What will happen and what is happening seem so intrinsically linked.
Stuck together the way you can’t have day unless night follows
I yearn for the strength of night
To be the quiet sister to the brilliance of day
To be all right as the shadow
Instead of needing to be the spotlight, the center
Of course, the day is only the center of one small thing
The infinite possibilities of the billions upon billions of other centers is overwhelming.
I am like that inconsequential center
I don’t want to shine alone.
To face the notion that I may have to be strong enough to stand alone
Forever
The timeframe is just too long
Forever
To be expected to endure it by yourself…
Well that would just be cruel
I fear that I am destined to push everyone away
That in shining alone for so long
I have burned too bright
And have overshadowed my match.
My knight
When does a princess become the wicked queen?
Is it her time alone that makes her so embittered?
When will I find the home I have sought for so long?
When will I let the sun set on all of the dreams, so that I can embrace a reality?

Strangers

The stranger in the mirror is lying to me once again.
I guess to know yourself is an adventure that takes a lifetime.
My adventure begins anew each day.
Beginning as the sun skims the horizon of the small world I have chosen for myself.
Closing as the moon rides the waves or a swimming black sky.
With each star, there is a twist and a new chapter comes to life.
Shooting out on a tangent all its own.
I see that stranger in the false light of an energy saving bulb.
I wonder if I would know her had the bulb been full strength.
Light is said to change one's perspective.
I doubt it though.
I doubt that I will ever be anyone but a stranger to myself.
And maybe that is what I was meant to be.
Because if I don't know me, than neither can you.
And if I don't know myself, then I can't be disappointed if you don't like me.
Because you can't fault someone who won't befriend a stranger.
I guess the lie is that I do know at least a little part of that stranger
And sometimes I love who she is.
And sometimes I wish I could say she was a stranger.
Because not wanting her around wouldn't hurt so much.

So... he died

I started talking about having a blog like a thousand years ago... okay like two years ago. I thought that it would be a great way to write something and let people read it, without the fear of publisher rejection.... but I wanted the best blog, the blog that would look all other blogs in the face and make them feel an overwhelming sense of dejection. I wanted to be the head cheerleader of blogs... But I was a drama kid. I stole the attention from the room by overtalking, over gesturing and outwitting the competition.

Turns out that neither option will work... Cause no matter where I am, there is always a blog who can look at my blog and say- ummm no. It's the blogerary version of a bitch slap... and it never stops stinging.

But in all seriousness, I needed a place to build up a comfort level with the thoughts in my own head. I place that wasn't a journal that I would hide away from the world... the way I lock up my goals simply because I am afraid to fail.

So, why after the two plus years of writing did I finally decide to start my blog... well, my dad died. And there is a whole story of disconnection and hurt and unrealized dreams for the future of our relationship that is wrapped up in that piece of reality. But all I am left with now is half of a lifetimes worth of animosity and confusion wrapped in a bundle of... me.

Do you feel a little awkward about laughing at me now other blogs? With your fancy backgrounds and cool linking functions? Don't... cause this blog needs to be kind of plain. I think I need to get comfortable with the notion of who I am, instead of who I always thought I was going to be...

However if you are reading this and you have any tips for improving on the mundane functionality, I'm all ears.