What it takes

Normally, I would post this in my other blog, but since the site is down right now, I'm doing it here. Steve, you may not want to read this.

Years ago, a day had been particularly hard. I, per my parents instructions, was told to get rid of "that boy" or they would. You see, my friend Jenny saw my Daddy every day. And the day before, Kevin had jerked me across the hallway. So, he had jerked me around from time to time, it didn't seem like a big deal at the time. However, in my friends eyes (and now mine), it was the first sign of many years of abuse to come. She ratted Kevin out. My Daddy knew the signs of abuse and was only trying to protect me. But, being the stubborn person that I am, didn't want to believe my Daddy was right. I wanted to believe that he simply didn't want to see me happy. (How much further from the truth could that have been??)

Leaving school that day, I was thrown as cassette tape. I was thrilled, it was the new Aerosmith: Pump. Riding with my cousin to my Nannie's house for the weekend, I discovered a song on there that has stuck with me, some (almost) 20 years later. Inside the tape, I found a note. I'm not sure exactly what it said, but something to the effect of "What will it take to let you go?" It took me a while to realize what those words meant, then I heard the song, I was hooked.

For some reason, tonight, Kevin is on my mind. I wonder if he is ok. I wonder how he is surviving prison life. And I wonder what will it take for him to let me go.

It's nights like these, I hate to be alone. I should be asleep, I should be peacefully sleeping. But every time I close my eyes, I see Kevin. I see the film of our lives together. In order to "get over" Kevin, I tend to remember the bad stuff, not the good. Something triggered a memory tonight that I had not thought of in years, the sharing of the cassette tape. One week it was mine, the next his. This didn't last long, as he "got over" me pretty quick. The following year, his son, Justin was born. But I got custody of the tape. I still have it.

I can't fathom why I continue to torture myself and allow thoughts to creep in about him. I finally have my life on the path I want it to be on, yet, memories of him continue to creep in.
I hate these long nights. I hate hormones, I hate that I think of him, when my thoughts should be focused on Steve and planning our life together. I know without any hesitation I would never go back to Kevin, I can honestly say that now. Before I really "fell in love" with Steve, I'm not sure I could have said that. I feel as though any thoughts of Kevin should be automatically banned from my memory. I know it doesn't work that way,

So anyway, below are the lyrics and a link to the song. I'm sure some of you remember it.

What it takes---Aerosmith

What It Takes

There goes my old girlfriend, there's another diamond ring
And, uh, all those late night promises I guess they don't mean a thing
So baby, what's the story? Did you find another man?
Is it easy to sleep in the bed that we made?
When you don't look back I guess the feelings start to fade away.
I used to feel your fire
But now it's cold inside
And you're back on the street like you didn't miss a beat, yeah

Chorus:
Tell me what it takes to let you go
Tell me how the pain's supposed to go
Tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night
Without thinking you lost everything that was good in your life to the toss of the dice?
Tell me what it takes to let you go.

Yeah
Girl, before I met you I was F.I.N.E. Fine
but your love made me a prisoner, yeah my heart's been doing time
You spent me up like money, then you hung me out to dry
It was easy to keep all your lies in disguise
Cause you had me in deep with the devil in your eyes

Tell me that you're happy that you're on your own Yeah, yeah, yeah
Tell me that it's better when you're all alone
Tell me that your body doesn't miss my touch
Tell me that my lovin' didn't mean that much
Tell me you ain't dyin' when you're cryin' for me

Chorus

Tell me what it takes to let you go
Tell me how the pain's supposed to go
Tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night
Without thinking you lost everything that was good in your life to the toss of the dice?
Tell me who's to blame for thinkin' twice
No no no no 'cause I don't wanna burn in paradise
Ooo Let go, let go, let go,
let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go,
let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go
I don't wanna burn, I don't wanna burn

What do you say in a moment like this?

As I made my way home yesterday, my cell phone rang. It was Andrew. The conversation went something like this:
"Where are you?"
"Trying to make my way home, I'll call you when I get closer, I can't talk right now baby"
"Okay Mama, but I have a question"
"Andrew, I really need to get off of here"
"But Mama, why would someone shoot all those kids? Will they do it at my school?"
"I don't know, baby, I just don't know"

Reba McIntire has a song that says "what do you say in a moment like this?, when you can't find the words to tell it like it is."
That is how I felt yesterday. I wasn't sure what to tell my son, other than (God willing) it won't happen at his school. I had to wait until we were at home to tell him what had happened. Of course, by this time, his little mind had been tainted by his PawPaw Wayne and kids on the bus. It's a shame that any parent should ever have to tell their child about such tragic events.

As most of you know, Steve lives in the area of VT. So when waking up yesterday for the 2nd time, I went into the living room and turned on the scanner and television. I sat there mesmerized and trying to grasp the enormity of it all. Here 24 hours later, I still have not. My phone started ringing, friends asking about other friends, family asking if I was ok and my brother asking if I had heard from a girl from church. It began to sink in.
No, it was not my alma mater, but I spent a fair amount of time on that campus, whether it was going to one of the frat's keg parties to working there for the Red Cross. Now, as I have "grown up", the campus is still a part of my life. Whether it is hanging out in the parking lot before a game or trying to find a duck pond, the campus has always seemed larger than life to me.
I realized a few minutes ago while reading through the list of victims, I had one of the professors. He was a foreigner. I only remember a little bit about him, he was a small man with a big voice. I remember the class more so than the professor, it was one of the hardest classes I ever took on the bachelor's level.

It pisses me off to no end when everyone wants to blame video games, movies or God forbid, music. Makes me wonder if these people who profile have children. Did it ever occur to these people with a professional opinion, that maybe if parents had smacked their kids on their ass when they were younger, things may have been different? I'm not saying this would have solved everything, but no one ever wants to take the blame for their child being something other than perfect.

So what do you say when your child asks about such things? Usually I can come up with some sort of explanation for his questions. Yesterday, I could not come up with any answer. I don't think there are answers for such questions.

I told you she created a monster

From my Mom:
Hey girl, I taught you better than that...... Are you really going to just stick your head in a hole and think the world will go away? Pout, have a pity party and then pull yourself up, stand tall, hold that head up and face the world. And if you really love him, don't let him "just" walk away... Don't you dare use this as an excuse to quit living. email me........ where's my "monster"?

After being rudely awaken by an elbow to my side and being told there wasn't enough room to work on the airbags, I finally decided to get up. And the above is what I find. At first, I thought, I'm not doing that. And then I realized, she's right, I am hiding. I haven't called any of my friends, I haven't been home in a week and in general, I've been a turd.

To put things mildly, I've had a rough week. Jealously that escalated to a fight was the beginning. Got that cleared up. And to answer not only her, but everyone else, I do love him. It is hard to describe. It's not a deep, needy, obsessive, "I need to take care of you" love like it was with Kevin. It's not the "get me out of here, well, I'll stay with you because you are the father of my kid" love as it was with Dale. And it's not the warped whatever you want to call it relationship I had with Tim. And as I told Andrew, we don't count Joseph, he was, simply put, a mistake that I barely remember.
Whatever it is that Steve and I have is not clouded with delusions of changing someone, fixing them to suit you or molding yourself for them. I really, truly and honestly believe that for the first time in my life, I am in love. And no, he did not walk away. And neither did I. We walked towards each other and sat down like adults and talked it out.

To make things so much more fun, my body is showing its ass, as my Mama would say. It has decided to throw a few kidney stones my way. And to top it all off, I have surgery in two weeks. Surgery that will once again change my life. I'm not looking forward to it, but it is an evil that must be dealt with. I am terrified to no end. I do not understand why I keep having reoccurances. But it's not my place to question, I am just kinda dealing with it. Ok, let's be completely honest, I'm avoiding thinking about it. As Steve and I decided the other day, I have too many irons in the fire. (one is about to be removed, I graduate in less than a month!!)

So, to all my dear friends who over the last few days called and wrote, I apologize for not being my chipper self. A special heads up to Gary and Janie. Immediately, they knew something was up, more so than my usual drama. As for Heather and Nikki, I am blessed to have been taken in by your family. I thank you all for taking the time to care. I'm very lucky for each and every one of you. And as always, thanks Mom, for giving me the reality check that I really needed.

So, with that being said, I'm going to go check on Steve and his dreams of working on airbags. I seriously hope it didn't blow up on him.

And Yet

he walked away.

Just as every one else has.

I should be used to it by now. But somehow, I am not.

F.I.N.E. once again

Once again, I try to play by the "rules" and I fuck up. Ya know, I'm seriously starting to doubt myself. Am I self destructive?
I tried to be open and honest, what did I get? 3 fucking words from a dictionary.
So, once again, here is the acronym to describe me:
F.I.N.E.
Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional

I give up. I tried that bullshit of telling someone when something is wrong and/or bothering me. Apparently, I did it wrong. All it did was blow up in my face and cause hurt feelings. Then to add insult to injury, now I look like the "bad" guy.

I dunno, but I do know that sitting on this living room floor is hurting my butt, so I'm done. After all, avoidance is what I do best. I think I'll take up that hold habit again. At least then, I didn't get hurt.
'Night all......

My favorite season is confused

Everyone knows it doesn't take much to confuse me. Earlier in the week, I had settled nicely into the fact that it was Spring. After all, this year's flip flops had been bought, shorts had been pulled out, it was my birthday and the Easter Bunny is on his way. And almost as important, the hard top had come off the Miata. No, the rag top hadn't been put down yet, but that day is quickly approaching or so I thought.

Yesterday, I'm on my way up the mountain to Steve's house and suddenly, it was snowing. Yup, the white stuff we did not get earlier in the year. You know, while it was still WINTER. I wake up this morning and as I take Alyssa doggie out, I realized that it was only the 2nd time this year I had seen the white stuff and the first time ever that my little red ride had ever been in snow while underdressed.
After searching the house for the camera (I consider Lent over as of Good Friday), I go back out and get some pictures.



My poor little ride, I'm sure it's confused and shivering, wondering what in the heck happened to that 80° weather.
Poor little flowers just now stuck their heads out and look what happened to them. The tulip has a defeated look about it.
My baby got me a Vermont Teddy Bear. Winston's first companion, Olivia was brutally disembowled during a fight with the ex. Steve, being the perfect boyfriend that he is (and he really, really is!!!), got me Isabelle. But we decided she would probably go by the name Izzy.
I finally got to meet Carol after 4 years, woo hoo!! She gave me a great birthday present: a pedicure. So, to show off her great work and my really cool color (Pompeii Pink) here ya go:
I never knew how hard it is to take a picture of your own feet. But it is, especially if you are using a webcam.
Ok, I'm going to wrap this up, I have to go play Easter Bunny for Andrew and I haven't gotten him a thing! Hope everyone has a great Easter!!

Pardon Me? Are you speaking to me?

So, I'm sitting there in my counselor's office, discussing how to get around missing my last class before my surgery without getting an incomplete and not graduating (aagghhhh). It can be done.

Now, when I say my counselor, I mean a young, fresh faced recent college graduate. Let me emphasize that again, YOUNG. I'm thinking 23-24 at the most.
As I walk out the door, I hear "Umm, Ms. R******?, May I ask you a question?" I turn and say "sure, whatcha need?" and this is what I got:

"At YOUR AGE, how do you do it?"

I was taken aback, truly I was. I actually looked around me, looked behind me and was thinking "is she talking to me? my age? Huh?"
I had no reply for her that could be taken in any other way than a sarcastic shitty ass remark, so I went for it. Needless to say, I'm glad I asked for her help before I replied:

"If I take my Geritol everyday, I get along pretty good, some days are harder than others, but I'm lucky, I have a great family who put me in a assisted living nursing home" and I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I think my blood pressure actually went up to 120/80.

Ya know, I thought over the weekend I found my first wrinkle. Thank God, it was my paranoid self. No wrinkles. Now I have some young chickie thinking I'm ready for retirement. I'm not sure which is worse.