When you incur a debt from God you eventually have to pay for it. I grew up the tomboy who played sports, loved music, made fart jokes, and wrestled with the neighbor’s dogs. I also had long blonde hair and an easy smile. I was oblivious to the fact that boys did not necessarily hang out with me just because I happened to hit a mean curve ball. Over the years of my youth I had to have several, “I’m sorry you like me but we’re just friends” conversations. Too many for my comfort, truth be told. Moments of awkwardness in parked cars puffing a joint, outside front stoops easing your way into the easy joy of a first cigarette puff, a collective LSD trip moment where the collective consciousness of the group trip was ruined with the worst seven words in the English language, "I want to be more than friends." I dreaded that moment. And everytime it happened I braced myself in my next male relationship to wonder if it would happen again. Or the other inevitable, which is that they obtain the girlfriend that they obviously want and cast you into the dead seaweed of the ocean that fisherman dread having to get out of their lines. Usually they do this because their girlfriends feel threatened by your close relationship with said friend and you don't happen to be bad looking. I always felt bad and it usually resulted in the end of the friendship, or at least a death of the comfort that existed between me and the guy it happened with. I am not trying to sound arrogant in this regard it is just what my experience has been.
And then I fell in love. And it was with the entirely wrong person who did not love me back and made that apparent on every level that he possibly could, physically forcing me out of his life when the opportunity arose. But then he dissipated. From the sudden world changing nowhere that he rose he returned and I never knew where that spot was. I just (slowly and painfully) found a peace with not knowing where he came from in my life. It also made me question whether or not he had ever been real. I never had to face him. I never had to look up into his beautiful face and realize with longing that this was someone I could never have. I did not have to confront the very deep realization that I had to sit next to someone I pined for so much that their very presence illuminated the shadow of loneliness that I felt. I’ve made it a point my whole life to not stay friends with people for whom I had feelings knowing that it does nothing but ruin your self-worth and make you feel insignificant. So I never had to feel what those guys felt for me. I valued my own worth enough to put my feelings before theirs and pull my friendship when necessary to spare myself the waterboarding torture that is unrequited emotions.
Until now. Days where you spend time together turn into endlessly excruciating events where you ache and remember those moments of lying in bed together with your legs so tangled you don’t know whose belong to who and the only solution is to find their lips with yours to further the spider web that is your bodies. The soft feel of their chest under your fingers and the lingering looks of adoration that make others jealous and lift the corners of your mouth all day when you think of their hands pressed into your hair while you hold each other. Then it ends and you’re left to wonder why.
In some of these unfortunate situations a friendship occurs because of those moments when you felt close to them and confided in them. As a person who frequently finds it difficult to open up to anything more than a blank, anonymous computer screen it is rare to meet a kindred spirit that you can feel at ease sharing with. So you cherish that familiarity. But it comes with a heavy and impossible to pay price. Like student loans. You still look at that guy with the adoration that you feel, knowing you are merely a mortal person who is incapable of quelling that desire within you. But you know that there is nothing you can do about it. It will not change. That person does not want you. It has been made up in their mind that they are looking for something better than you. And it hurts. But you have to move on and accept it. With time your feelings grow for them but you care enough about having them in your life that you swallow hard and drink beers together. This is my sentence. I am repaying that debt to karma that I have accrued for far too long. So I suffer. Because it is only fair.
You do it to yourself....
New Beginnings!
Okay so my camera broke and I am officially unable to physically document my new life here, which is slowly killing me. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am very fond of taking pictures. Not being able to chronicle my experiences for my three readers (and myself) is really upsetting as more and more exciting things begin to happen to me. My desperate need for the practicality of a bicycle right now is overruling my absolutely insane desire to buy myself a new camera. So anyone who would like to start a project fund for a girl in an expensive city and take collections would become a hero of mine.
Today I had one of those amazing days in my new neighborhood in Greenpoint (which is right next to Williamsburg) that I've been craving to experience here. I needed to run a bunch of errands and I've been working crazy hours at my job at Brooklyn Bowl so I've not had as much of a chance to check out the area as I'd like. I laced up my battered Converse, brushed my teeth, and set out to my adventure into my new home. I'm so thrilled to be able to think of this neighborhood as home after so long of feeling like a green eyed alien. I set out early and decided to try to kill as many rats with one BB pellet as possible. In Bed-Stuy a day where I needed to go to the post office, laundry mat, bank, grocery store, etc. would have meant I needed a car, or at least a bicycle. And it also meant getting cat calls whereupon I would be compared to a piece of bread or some other cute nickname, often by a boy no older than fourteen who stood on the dirty, overcrowded corner with his pants practically around his ankles. I walked four blocks away from my apartment, which is on the last street before Manhattan so I have an absolutely glorious view of the skyline, and managed to accomplish all of my chores in under an hour. It was incredible! Walking around I found that everything I needed was right next to my doorstep. Which is the picture of NY I'd had in my mind before I left. I laid awake at night dreaming of the city and having everything you could possibly need or want lying in covetous wait just for you. All it craved was for you to find it. I felt so charged and happy. The air was brisk but not cold and while I know I am about to encounter a winter I am indescribably scared of I am enjoying these last days of an all too short summer. I'm seeing fewer and fewer pigeons, which truly means that the warmth is about to make its prison break.
One of the best things about it though is that I live so close to work and all of my friends now that I rarely need to take the subway anymore, which is saving me a huge amount of money. Everything is so close! I'm excited about leaving my house for the first time since I moved here. I step outside and lock my door and finally feel like I'm easing my way into becoming a New Yorker. The streets are lined with oak trees, there is a cute little park across the street where weary day shifters take their dogs to walk and kids sit on swing sets. Every other small side road off of the main avenues possesses a hidden art gallery covered in graffiti or a whole foods market sporting an illustrious line of fresh flowers that will all too soon be pulled inside. Bicycle riders already wearing winter hats speed past in the bike lane and people chat happily on their cell phones while enjoying a glass of white wine in the early evening hours at an outdoor Bistro. It's my perfect version of Brooklyn. It might not last, but for now I am sincerely just enjoying the moments of being able to savor it like a good neat whiskey.
The fact that I am blessed enough to be able to walk along Franklin street (my street) and look over the river where the Empire State Building towers over the Manhattan skyline on my way to work is a treasure that does not cease in value as the days slide by. In fact, it is a testament to me that I am finally truly here, in one of the most exhilerating cities in the world. Now I just need to start making some new friends so I can begin my journey as an urban explorer. There is so much here! I feel rejuvenated for the first time in more months than I wish to admit and realize that I am so lucky to be able to say that I live here.
Bring it on NY!
Padawan learner.
So today I had an epiphanic realization and decided that it is time to really start my New York life. I've been living my Tampa life just in a place that's a lot bigger and a lot colder. I've been pining for someone for far too long who has clearly moved on, watching another year slip gently past me while I sat watching the fascinating wall at a bar. I've been in New York for three months and have not achieved any of the things I desire. Some of which are as simple as buying a bike for myself and others of which are as lofty as starting my career, which I know takes patience. But the huge thing that occurred to me today was none of these things, although I believe it will set me on the path that may lead to many of them.
It was that I cling to my pain so completely and so exquisitely that it gives birth to a fear of not only letting it go, but feeling it again. The Catch-22 of this silly tendency that I have to harness that anguish and grief within myself is that if I let it go I would no longer be afraid of it coming back around. It wouldn't be so terrifying to get hurt by the opposite sex if I was able to move on from my setbacks more gracefully. However, fear of losing the familiarity of heartache can also be a giant step forward. On this day to begin all days I've decided that instead of jealously coveting the characters in Tom Robbins novels and the grandiose and story book love that they share I've decided to relinquish the stranglehold I've held on my failed relationships and stop longing for the things that I cannot have. Some of these, like my most recent very short lived dating situation, will be easier than others to pry my fingers away from. Obviously. The huge heartbreaks will be all the more difficult. If I've learned nothing else in my 29 years on this planet it is that there is much comfort in being sad. Cobain was right. But sometimes that comfort does nothing but hold you back and make you drink too much.
Sitting across from a friend today at a restaurant he posited a really interesting theory that made me stop in my tracks. He asked me, "What good is it doing you to sit here thinking about someone else when they're off not thinking, or probably caring, about you?" I realized what a huge waste of time it was. Sincerely. Something a Kindergartener figures out their third or fourth day of class and it took me this damn long. Pathetic. But that one simple thing unraveled so many other things for me. How much effort it is to be heartbroken. How much strain fighting with an ex is. How painful it is to lie in bed and think of them. And for what? Where does it get you but wasting countless hours you could have used to learn to play the guitar, take a day trip to Prospect Park, sew a quilt. You get the idea. I've wasted so much time I could probably have been accepted and finishing my first semester of law and/or graduate school. Still torn on that one, by the way. Thoughts?
Anyway, the point is that this time spent could have been utilized in such a better manner. Sure, I wrote a novel to cope with how much pain I was in but that was just sanity survival. Without that project I wouldn't have made it through that break up. Maybe that's what I have to do every time I go through a break-up. Just find a new project to immerse myself in that will in some way enrich my life and distract me from more unpleasant thoughts. Or even just an activity. Rather than hating being alone all the time I should begin to relish it and see it as an opportunity to grow more as a person because I do those things on my own terms and experienced them with myself. How many great documentaries, movies, books, TV shows, conversations, etc. have I missed because I was talking and/or thinking about an ex or a recent acquisition of a crack in my heart? Why do I feel compelled to let my overtly sensitive and emotional nature run my life? And why do I get so hung up on guys who are toolboxes anyway? Because for a few months/days/years we got along? So what. Let it go. Drop it. Fuck 'em. They were never worthy of someone like me because through all my flaws the one thing that most of my boyfriends cannot generally deny is that I was a good girlfriend who spoiled, pampered, and loved them. I do that because I care about them and want them to be happy. And I, just like most of us walking, talking bacteria that crawl around the face of this damaged world, deserve someone who will do that for me. The point of dating someone is that they make your life a little better. They complement you as a person. It's not always easy, but it shouldn't always be hard. When it is, it's time to shake your head sadly like they do in old movies, look down at the ground forlornly, and walk away.
I've recognized within myself that I am looking for someone to commit to and hand my trust to. And I need to be with someone who not only really wants it, but realizes what a true blessing it is to have someone believe in you enough to think you are worth it. There are many things that we take for granted in our self-involved, overly indulgent lives and having someone in the world who thinks your smile is worth more than Mona Lisa's is one of them. That is not something you throw out with your old McDonald's wrappers. It's something you frame.
So today was a good day. Tomorrow I am buying a bicycle or scanning the East River to see if there are any usable ones on the bottom. Whichever gets me something with two wheels and a basket.
It's insane how one comment can unravel your whole world. I'll tell you this, the person who said that is my Obi-Wan.
