Refreshed

So, Nick texted me. After literally almost 3 months of silence through multiple attempts of communication and unanswered emails, he texted me. I looked down at my phone screen after hearing my text alert, I was driving, and almost crashed into on coming traffic.  I told myself that I was just imagining the picture of us with his name under it on the screen.  That my mind was just playing tricks on me and it wasn’t really there. It was a different Nick and my heart switched out the picture, like a cruel joke on myself. I pulled my car over to the shoulder of the intracoastal bridge that I was crossing and took a deep breath.  I don’t do it very often lately, but I looked up and asked God to please not be playing some kind of joke on me.

I unlocked my smart phone’s screen and there it still was: my favorite picture of us together, his name, and the alert that there was a new text message. I swallowed down all the nerves and questions and the strange feeling that I still can’t even seem to find the right words to describe what it was. I took a deep breath and opened it.

We texted for the remainder of that Saturday. I worked in the middle at Green Room, and to my surprise the texts lasted until after the bar had closed and I was back at home. I do not know if he was on or off his boat while all these were happening; I didn’t have the courage to ask to be honest.  The conversation wasn’t a good one, but it wasn’t really a bad one either.  It wasn’t about getting back together. It wasn’t about missing each other. There are a million questions I wish I would’ve asked, but didn’t because I held back.  I was too surprised that he even contacted me that I treated the situation so delicately that I think it has made everything worse.

See, the texts started that day and ended that night.  There hasn’t been any return of conversation.  I can’t really say that I am surprised. I can really say that I am extremely confused. Actually, I can’t.  I still feel like I know Nick so well; I do know him so well.  I am grateful for the texts that I got.  He contacted me. Out of nowhere. And yes, at first it was to sort of yell at me for some instagram stupid stuff.  But you know what that means? That he still looks at my instagram. You know what else it means? That he is beginning to get over his pride a little bit and after he texts me instead of just deleting it, he actually sent one. You know what else it means? That he still cares about me enough to, although it was through harsh words, watch out for my well-being and somewhere inside him is still the urge to try and protect me.

Nick is the type of guy to wipe someone completely out when he’s decided to be finished. I think he may be one of the most cold hearted guys there is; except I never witnessed that side.  I got a guy who hid notes and bible verses around our house, who had breakfast delivered on my birthday when he was out of town, who wrote me poetry, and who showed me glimpses of his heart.  I’ve often questioned these glimpses since the split. That maybe those were just the fake pieces of Nick, that maybe they were just the times he was acting how he thought he should, but that they didn’t come from the heart.  That he was trying to be what I wanted, but that after we stopped talking, he was being who he truly was: a cold-hearted, womanizing, bed-hopping barfly. This view was the one everyone has been trying to push on me to believe.  That I had idolized him in my head into a person greater than the real Nick is.

Nope. HA. Everyone was wrong. See, if Nick would’ve never texted me, I would’ve finally agreed with everyone. I was just giving into it all. The hope was gone. I was thinking about dating this guy who had been displaying interest and is pretty attractive. I was about to just throw all my feelings away and write it off as my heart just being stupid. I was going to cover him up with someone else and drinks and bars and parties.  It’s like Nick has this direct line to my heart and my soul because there has only been three times in my entire knowing him that I was at my wit’s end.  That I needed something, anything, from him to stop me from turning around, closing the door, and never looking back. Three times I have prayed to God so desperately asking for a sign or a clue to which direction I am supposed to go in with Nick.  Each time, He’s provided one. I don’t care if you believe in God, or the Universe, or Karma, or whatever.  But I do know that every single person believes in love. If you want to admit it or not, you do.

That morning I had poured my heart out. Telling Him I couldn’t do it anymore. Explaining that it had been nothing but silence from Nick and I couldn’t hold on anymore.

Then I got the text messages. And everything didn’t get answered or really even addressed. But I know Nick. If he still didn’t love and care for me, that picture of us with a new text alert wouldn’t have been on my phone. It’s all going to be ok. I knew it would be. I will take this sign and continue how I was thinking before I started letting everyone else change my actions. I love him, I promised him my life, and I think that one day it’ll all work out.  I am not dating anyone else for a year, so maybe by April there will be another break-through or two with us.  Maybe there won’t be. For now, I am extremely grateful that I got the sign that I did. And just because it wasn’t some huge get back together text conversation or even a visit, I’m ok with that. Because I know Nick, and if he didn’t give a fuck, he wouldn’t give a fuck. There would have continued to be no communication.

I am refreshed in my hope for us and faith in us.  Understand it or don’t. I could careless about any of the other opinions.

Love is patient.

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12 months

When you sign a lease, you never really know how many things can change over that year. You make plans and you try to map out your life, but usually, it turns out nothing like what you planned. We signed the lease to our first place together and he had plans to propose and I had plans to accept if he ever asked. I spent a lot of time decorating and trying to make it feel like a home.. building a “nest egg” most of my customers called it. I started planning a wedding, he started planning our financial future. It was planned, everything was mapped out. The date, the venue, his job path, all planned and ready to go.

What you never seem to include in your plans are: the fights, the speed bumps, the social media lusting, the time apart that separates two people who called each other best friends, the temptations you get presented with by being a bartender, the friends who have terrible intentions for your relationship, the distance, the stress, and the toll all these take on you. Nobody ever plans a break up, especially to an engagement. When you’re caught in the spiderweb of it, you don’t even really see it coming. Maybe because it’s too close, ya know? Maybe it was just so much focus on the future and some day and a year from now that you get blindsided by the present. Maybe it was all the times that we didn’t say what we thought, that I didn’t ask for help when I started noticing other people, that he didn’t ask for help and tell me he used instagram to stare at other girls. Maybe it was pride or a lack of a true feeling of protection in our relationship that stopped us from addressing our weaknesses and struggles in our present and covering them with plans for our future.

The first night we had the keys, we had a mattress on the floor of our room, a record player and a modest mouse album, a bottle of champagne, some vodka and orange juice. We were happy. We drank to our plans. Enjoyed our new, empty house and slept in each other’s arms on the undressed mattress.

It’s funny how one year, twelve months, can change everything. I walked around the empty house, drank a bottle of champagne to honor our failure, and slept on the floor. I woke up and took one look around. Left the keys on the counter, locked the door, closed it, and left. Called the office and told them everything was out.

12 months. Huh. What a fucking difference.

Love Does or Doesn’t It?

Sometimes you read a book and it resonates deep, down inside you somewhere. You aren’t really sure why, but it touches your heart and soul in such a way that it seems as if the author wrote what they wrote because of you. That the connection you feel couldn’t possibly be meant for any other reader besides you; that whatever sentence or paragraph that you just read was specifically formulated for you to read, whether the author knew it or not. I read a lot (I don’t own a television and haven’t for years) and it has been awhile since I have read a book that did this to my heart. Then I was given the book Love Does by Bob Goff. I don’t know if it was the timing, or the person that gave it to me, or just the book itself that made it touch me so deeply, but it did.

I think it’s very important in life to surround yourself with people and resources who will keep you in check. Who are not afraid to tell you their opinion about what you’re doing or how you’re living without sugar-coating it or being scared to cause an argument about it. You need to have faith in and respect their wisdom, experience, and their motives. You need people around you that love you so much they will tell you when they think you are fucking up and that they believe that you need to stop. More importantly, you need people in your life who will tell you this but still stand by you while you continue on your own path and don’t follow their advice. That is why a few years back I made some changes in my friend circle; correction, I abolished pretty much 90% of it. I realized that the people who surrounded me didn’t care enough to tell me when I was fucking up, and encouraged it by doing it with me. When they did give me advice about what to do or not to do, it was almost always motivated by their own personal schemes and what benefits they would get from it. So I changed. I dropped more people than I can say without sounding like a cold-hearted person, but sometimes its ok to be selfish and this is one of the areas that I encourage selfishness.

I repeat a quote to myself often and it helps me evaluate the surroundings I’m in and the people I allow to surround me while in them. I think it’s important to stop yourself from falling back into old habits, and this has helped me stay moving forward and out of old ruts that I really have no desire of revisiting. “If you are the smartest person in the room, it is time to move on”. Some people will probably think this is stupid, but I don’t. I think that if you really think about it, it’s actually an amazingly true and accurate life motto to take on. You want to surround yourself with people who are constantly inspiring you to be better, who are teaching you new things about life, and who challenge you. Nobody knows everything. If you are ever in a place where you either think you know everything or you have learned all there is to learn from it, it is time to move on. We should all be constantly improving upon ourselves.

“I once heard somebody say that God had closed a door on an opportunity they had hoped for. But I’ve always wondered if, when we want to do something that we know is right and good, God places that desire deep in our hearts because He wants it for us and it honors Him. Maybe there are times when we think a door has been closed and, instead of misinterpreting the circumstances, God wants us to kick it down. Or perhaps just sit outside of it long enough until somebody tells us we can come in.” -Bob Goff, Love Does

I have had a lot of people who I respect, who I value, who teach me things and inspire me, who have motives that are true, and who are in amazing relationships that I one day hope I can have one similar to, tell me it’s time to move on. That I shouldn’t place any more hope in Nick or us ever seeing each other again.  That I’m a pretty girl and I’ll be fine and it’s all apart of a plan that I don’t understand yet. That continuing to stand outside this closed-door will eventually just make me miss out on other opportunities I really am supposed to take. Then I read this book. That quote. I found myself torn in-between a bunch of things: their advice, my heart, my doubts, my hope, Bob Goff’s advice, God’s subtle hints. Love is a funny thing. So is pride. So are the hints we receive from God, or the universe, or whatever it is you believe. I lived a lot of my life ignoring coincidences and I realized maybe that’s where I went wrong. Maybe they aren’t coincidences, maybe they’re important signs you are supposed to pay attention to. Maybe I was supposed to open this book that was given to me, read this very paragraph, and go with what I feel is what I’m supposed to do: believe that one day, Nick and I will get another chance. I’m not supposed to date or get numbers or sleep with other people. I’m not necessarily waiting around; my life has been filled with new experiences and adventures lately and I can say I’m very happy. I just think that the dating area in my life should be off for a while. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone else anyways because I don’t even have my heart to give to a new person, I never got it back.

The thing that I realized the other day is that I am also supposed to be teaching the people who have decided to include me in their surroundings. I am supposed to be beneficial to their lives as well and it is a 50/50 type of deal. So when I decided to turn down their advice and counsel, I realized that that really is ok. Maybe it’s my turn to teach them a few things about loyalty, faithfulness, determination, and hope. Maybe that’s why I was placed on their path, as a reminder of unconditional love and devotion. I feel like in the world we live in today it’s all about quitting and giving up and getting new things to replace broken things. I want to be an example to them that that isn’t the only way to do it. That maybe, if you try hard enough and have enough faith, it will work out. That if you stay hopeful and understanding, things that you once thought were lost or broken or destroyed can be found, repaired, and rebuilt. I know what most of you are thinking and I’m ok with it. In a world where I hardly agree with anything anybody thinks, I’d rather be looked at as foolish/naive/stuck in the past/pathetic. Maybe Nick and I will never talk again. I can’t make him come back, I can’t make him miss me, and I can’t stop him from dating and meeting someone else. I can only control my own actions and my own hope. I can have faith it will all work out. I can continue to love him and hope he finds whatever it is that makes him happy, and maybe that’ll include me.

 

Foreshadowing

fore-shad-ow: verb: When an author of a plot uses an advance sign or warning of what is to come in the future.

A few years back, there was a song that was super popular. It was played over and over and over again on the radio. At first, I really liked it a lot. After hearing it about 50 million times a day on every radio station, in every public place, and posted on people’s social media sites via youtube videos, my opinions about that song changed drastically. It was a song by the artist Goyte called “Somebody That I Used To Know”. You probably remember it. It was super catchy and once you heard it, it had you singing “somebody” in a high pitch voice for the rest of the day.

The summer that it became an overplayed hit, I was working in a restaurant at the beach. My x-fiance was also working there, but this was before we had even started our story. There had only been those moments when the attraction was super obvious, like when you catch each other looking at each other from across the restaurant and your stomach does that little flip thing and you can’t stop smiling because you can feel that amazing butterfly feeling you get in the beginning. We had only had a few conversations, mostly about work stuff and any excuse we could use to talk to each other. We had hung posters up for the grand opening on the street with fishing line out of the bed of his Toyota pick up truck together; I don’t remember the small talk in-between us but I remember the feeling of just being completely attracted to him. I have small tattoos on my hands below my thumbs, about the size of dimes, on the left is a world and on the right is a peace sign. [Please do not judge me for the fact I did get ‘world peace’ tattooed on me, I was young and in my hippy movement stage of life]. Nick came up to me as I was leaning across a high top table one shift and touched the tattoo on my left hand and asked me if it was a tattoo of a deadhead. [If you don’t know what a deadhead is..open a new tab, google it, and download some of their music onto your itunes OK?] I remember the feeling of butterflies from his first physical contact with me mixed with embarrassment as I explained that the hard-to-recognize, blown-out tattoo was of a world and not a deadhead, followed by the explanation of the whole “world peace” thing and being young and dumb when I got it. We both had a pretty good laugh about it. Another time, the restaurant had run out of aprons and Nick had never gotten one. I remember telling him I’d bring him one the next time we worked together. This immediately lead to us comparing our schedules and seeing what shifts we were scheduled together for the rest of the week. I think both of us had probably already checked each other’s schedule on the one hanging on the wall of the server station to see what days we both needed to make sure we were a little bit early and, at least for me because I’m a chick, what days I needed to spend a little extra time on my hair. These had pretty much been all the first interactions that we had had, back when it was new and exciting and developing.

On a different shift, a group of co-workers and I were standing around- probably waiting for tables to come in. The restaurant, although it was new, was never really busy, and we didn’t know it then, but would be closing down in about 2 or 3 more months. I don’t really remember everyone else who was present in the group, but I remember that Nick was there. The song by Goyte came on over our sound system and we all started singing the lyrics that were impossible not to know at this point. Nick looked at me and said he had never heard this song before. I was shocked. I don’t remember exactly the conversation that followed between us, but I remember some back and forth about how that could be possible. At the end of it all, I remember he said something along the lines of how he obviously knew it because it was overplayed everywhere. We laughed. I knew I loved him, right then and there.

The song became a joke throughout our growing relationship. It was on mixed CDs and sang between the two of us. It was never skipped on the radio; it had reached it’s peak so it went from being played all the time, to never, then a couple months later they threw it back into the rotation here and there.

I guess I never realized that the song would become a foreshadowing of our story. That God- or the universe or whatever your beliefs are- used it to bring us together and, as the author of my story, would use it as a hint to our future. It was the catalyst of the moment I first realized I loved him. But it was also a clear, lyrical prediction of our ending. We used to listen to it together, it was an on-going joke, built right into the foundation of us. And now?.. He has become somebody that I used to know.

“But you didn’t have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don’t even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
No you didn’t have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don’t need that though
Now you’re just somebody that I used to know..”

Dammit I hate that fucking song.