I haven’t written anything exclusively for this blog in over two months — because I’ve been living — literally. I did not plan on taking a mini break, but it just so turned out that way. It’s 3:30 AM right now and my mind and heart are swarming with emotions, thoughts, fears and ideas. I could not think of a better place to remove my mask of “I’m okay!” and allow some of my vulnerabilities room to breathe. I’m coming up for air.
I’ve…been…dating. And…it’s…weird. This whole getting to know you thing over dinner and other activities is completely not the norm for me. I’m the girl who experiences those off the wall–I need him and he needs me right now– love connections. I’ve never had to “date” and now that I’m doing it I feel lost. The first thing I’m realizing is that the man you don’t want to pay attention to you all the time — will do so. He will hound you for a first, second and third date and each time you break down and give in you’ll feel guilty for potentially leading him on. And then there’s the guy you like when you’re with, but forget when you’re not. He’s….nice…but unremarkable. And then there’s the guy you gave your number to, only to wake up the next morning and think “what the fuck was I thinking??” He’ll call and text, and you’ll duck and hide from your phone when he does, turning off the lights in your home like he’s Jehovah’s Witness. He won’t get the picture — you end up blocking him. (Thank you for that feature, Apple!). And lastly, there’s the guy. The one whom you asked the Universe for during one “woe is me! I’s foreva sangle and lonely!” convo on twitter. He fits your request so frighteningly, you don’t think he exists. Yet he does. If you could have your way, you’d discard all the other men and keep him. But…you can’t. He comes with baggage. Baggage you cannot ignore. Baggage that you don’t know if he knows that you know exists because the baggage makes itself known. Every single time. Because insecure. Because hopeless. Because lonely. And you can’t help but lay awake some nights wondering if he would even be worth it all.
Work has been interesting. I hit a plateau in February and became disenchanted with the daily grind. I love what I do, but “love” wasn’t cutting it anymore. Every little thing started grinding my gears, and I felt as if my head was about to blow. I had to pull back a bit and remind myself my career is not my life, merely a part of it. I started leaving the office at 5 more often instead of 6, 7 and sometimes even 8. I stopped taking my work home so frequently as well. Sitemaps and excel sheets were becoming my bed buddies…and yeah — that ain’t cool lol. These little steps have all actually helped, but your girl needs a vacation — ASAP.
Writing is that lover that I can’t live with and can’t live without as cliche as it sounds. I love it. I adore it. I need it. But sometimes I don’t feel worthy of doing it. I watch my number of hits for this blog increase amazingly every single day and I wonder what it is that you all are finding and loving here. The feedback is so positive, and it’s intoxicating. It takes hold of me for a minute and makes me believe I can be the kind of writer I dream of until I open a blank document and face that blinking cursor challenging me.
So yes —- Life has been strange, inspiring, hopeful, confusing and just down right scary lately. It feels good to come up for air, to fill my lungs. It feels good to write something for myself for a change.
Let’s just hope I don’t regret being so open by 5 pm today lol.