One of my LJ friends is selling her engagement ring, so I finally decided to post a bit about a ring of my own.
About two years ago I met a woman named A. and after being friends for a time, we began dating. For the first several months of our relationship, we kept a journal that we swapped back and forth with each other, writing about our fears, our hopes, and our feelings for each other. In September of last year, she proposed. We found a gorgeous ring at a little shop that was going out of business and I fell in love with it.
Later, life began to get in the way. Her parents offered to pay for grad school for her and I knew then that I wasn't ready to be anyone's wife. I couldn't imagine moving for someone else when I have so many of my own dreams left to chase. So we parted ways and moved out of the apartment we lived in together.
Sadly, at the beginning of January I lost our ring. I can't recall the last place I wore it or where in the world I could have put it. In the move, our journal was also lost.

I can't even say which hurts the most. The journal... I thought we'd give it to our children someday. I thought we'd fill up dozens of notebooks.

And the ring...I loved that ring and the memories associated with it.

Maybe someday when I've let go they'll come back. :/

Recently I was looking over old LJ entries and realized that I had spoken in late 2006 about "radical changes," essentially creating a different life for myself and ridding myself of people and patterns that are doing me more harm than good. It was a little disheartening to realize that some of those changes had taken place but some of them--which seemed just as necessary--had not. So after reading through LJ and my handwritten journals, I formed the idea of making these changes. While I was considering it, the airplane fiasco happened and I decided for sure to just do it. So I did.
Yay.
First I told Eric and Jen and the rest of my group of friends that I could no longer be their friend, that I'd been hurt too many times. A great decision? I think so. We all know my history with Eric. (And if you've somehow found this journal and don't know, please refer to the entries from the last 3 years!)
...but how can the right thing hurt so much? I'm not sure that I necessarily miss Eric or Jen or anyone in particular, but I certainly miss having friends to hang out with, to talk to, even if they're not the greatest thing for me. There's been a couple of people who have been pretty good to me during this process--my friend Cara in particular--and I'm learning to deal with the loneliness, to accept it, to find hope that things will get better. But that doesn't mean it's easy. I am happy--actually, I'm thrilled--however, that I will not read journal entries in 2020 from 2009 and still be forgiving all of the ways Eric makes me feel LESS THAN.
And even as I've struggled with loneliness, I find myself talking to people more, being happy with the way I look. I'm pretty sure it's because his voice is no longer in my head telling me not to let people in and that I constantly need to improve upon the way I look.
...But the loneliness is hard to handle sometimes, especially when I'm not sure when it's going to end. I live on my own now and sometimes I leave work or school and realize there are HOURS until I can fall asleep and I have no one to call or to see. I won 4 free movie tickets and I'm not sure what I'm going to do with them because, really, I have no one to invite. So while I'm happy to have made such a positive decision for me...I guess I just wish other friends would show up NOW.
:)
In other news--for the last year, I've been in a relationship with someone, Anna. We actually moved in together for several months but we have broken up now and that's also pretty painful. It was the right thing again, but still--ouch. We began as friends and somehow we ended up dating pretty seriously. But for the last few months especially we have been fighting an uphill battle for our relationship and it was causing us both more pain than good.
It just doesn't help the loneliness, though!
I'm sort of in this strange transition place in life where I'm confident in the decisions I've made but it's hard getting from here to there. I guess it's like being on an island and seeing another island across the sea. You want to be on that other island but it's a bitch to paddle there.
After Anna and I moved out of our apartment, I moved into a studio type place that I quickly made a home. Then I found out that they are tearing down my apartments and I have to move by March. I have a bit of time to figure things out but that time seems to be passing so quickly and I'm not quite sure where to go from here.
It's not all poor me though. Like I said, these decisions were all mine (well, the breakup, I guess, was half my decision) and I'm proud of every one of them. I love my apartment but I get lonely there so perhaps a roommate will end up being a great thing for me.
It's just hard to paddle.

I'm a reader. I'm also a writer, too, sometimes--but I'm always a reader. I read memoirs, cereal boxes, Danielle Steel novels, textbooks, self-help manuals, fashion magazines and famous (and sometimes infamous) literature.
Books are my friends, my family, my guidebooks, my prayers, my Pandora's boxes. I could write a love letter to the wonderful books that fill my world.
Little Women taught me the meaning of transcendalism--and also of family. Any and all of Martha Beck's stories and memoirs give me directions for ways out of the messes I sometimes make of my life. The Great Gatsby taught me to reinvent and so did The Mediocre Danielle Steel.
Some books haunt me and I know I must buy them whatever the cost because I will read them over and over until the pages are worn. Some books are like acquaintances--pleasant or not, memorable or not.
One book that seems to have seeped into my very being, a book that seems to have been written just for me is The Dive from Clausen's Pier by Ann Packer. It follows a young woman named Carrie who realizes she does not have to live the life she has created for herself but can explore any alternative she chooses.
Anyway...
I think everyone needs a reminder of that sometimes.

In tenth grade, I had begun to lose what eventually became over 150 pounds. Every day while I walked and drank my water and ate my veggies I would think of the popular girls at my school. I believed they were my ticket to a wonderful life (or at least a pretty great high school experience). I decided I would casually sit wherever they were seated during lunch after Christmas break. They would notice my weight loss, new clothes, and new make up and I would be POPULAR. Cheerleading, dances, dates, slumber parties--my new life wasn't based on anything I truly new about this particular group, but more on TV shows and movies that depicted what the popular group did.
I see now what balls (and a hefty dose of naievete) it took for me to walk up to their table like I owned it and sit my American Eagle-clad self down. Of course, after about day 3 of this they began sitting elsewhere. New clothes are acceptable, old desperation is not.
I was crushed. Before I was invisible. Now I was some sort of joiner who tried to force friendships with people who, truth be told, had no reason to be friends with me.
I wish I could have told my mom how hurt I was. How stupid I felt. How lonely I was. My old friends (who, in all honesty weren't friends either--I was simply the funny, fat sidekick) didn't want me in their group. I had been hiding my weight loss under baggy clothes until the big reveal after Winter break. Also, somewhere along the way I'd realized they weren't true friends nor did I want them to be.
I couldn't tell my mother though. I am not sure of its origins but there is an unwritten/written in stone code in my family that:
YOU SHALL NOT BE NEEDY.
YOU SHALL NOT SHOW EMOTION.
YOU SHALL NOT BE HURT.

Later in life these rules would haunt me as I admonished myself for being needy in relationships while simultaneously being overly needy at times because I wasn't receiving emotional support from anyone except my partner.

(I have only recently realized I repeat the same patterns and cycles of relationships with my friends that I experienced with my family: we are not vulnerable, we are always trying to have fun or at least pretending to, and there is no talk of "bad" emotions.)

I am at times needy and I am also incredibly self sufficient on many other occasions. This seems to prove that neither make me who I am--they are simply feelings and attributes that are part of the whole.

I feel as though I've lived large blocks of my life behind a glass window. During sex I am in my head, making sure to make the right noises or move in the right way. Even while dancing, one of my favorite pasttimes, it is difficult for me to lose myself in the music without wanting to change the song or becoming distracted in some other manner. I haven't learned the definition of "in the moment."

2009 is a New Year and I'm sure many, many people have great resolutions. While I admire anyone that resolves to have better confidence and/or health by losing weight or taking control of their life by becoming debt free, I want to achieve a different kind of goal:

I want to LOSE control.

I want to be swept away by emotion, to feel the music, so to speak.

A couple of weeks ago I took a trip to Indianapolis. It was my first flight (which was technically four DIFFERENT flights) and I learned big things, both in the sky and on the earth.

1. We are ALL family on some level.

On the plane I was always seated with someone from my group named Andrea. Andrea was also a first time flyer and we became family in a way I have never quite achieved with the people who share my DNA: We held each other, we listened as we spoke about our fears, we supported each other, emotionally and sometimes even physically. Andrea was my rock on those flights and I felt that even if something horrible happened I wasn't alone. There's always hope around the corner. And maybe love too.

2. Trust your instincts.

On the final flight, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach before boarding. By the time I was on the plane (and the last one to be seated) the feeling had turned to a lead ball, the heaviness pouring into my veins. I had one constant thought: I have to get off this plane. My "logical" self told me I was being silly, I was overreacting, I was just scared. But I felt deeply that I had to get off that flight to remove the brick in my core. The plane, which was taxiing the runway at this point suddenly stopped and I decided this was my opportunity to find a way, legal or not, off the flight. Just then the pilot announced that there was a mechanical error and we had to go back to the gate to fix it or change flights. As a team of mechanics came onto the plane to work on it, the lead disappeared and I began to feel light again. I could breathe. And I knew we'd be okay.

3. Get away from the voices around you and figure out what YOU want.

In Indianapolis, I knew no one except my classmates (who I didn't know very well until this trip). There was no one telling me who I am or what I should do or be. And I suddenly realized: it is truly my life. I pay for school, I pay for my apartment. I could move a thousand miles away tomorrow if I want. I can choose when I have children. I can choose my career. I make it a point now to spend time in silence every day, listening to that feeling in my stomach and the voice in my head that is only mine.

I hope you all have a wonderful 2009.

Senator DeMint,

You don't know me, but I am a citizen of the state you represent. I go to college here (at USC Upstate), I go to church here, I volunteer for causes like Girl Scouts and the Special Olympics, and I'm a daughter, sister, and friend of many other SC citizens. Today, however, one beautiful soul is no longer in South Carolina, or in my life. His name is Sean William Kennedy. Sean and I met in 2005 and I thought to myself "Wow! I've never met someone with so much energy-or such a compassion to love." Sean was unique in the way that only the people who will forever change your life are unique. He was charismatic, sooo affectionate, charming, loving. And he way gay. Because of this, someone who possibly was taught to hate and be intolerant of those unlike himself made a decision that took Sean's light away from the rest of us. Sean's legacy now is the wonderful memories his scores of family and friends have and the hope that his death will not be in vain. With this in mind, I beg of you to continue supporting anti-hate legislation such as HR-1592. Regardless of political or religious beliefs, gender or sexual orientation, I believe that everyone can agree that our country-and our state-should be one that won't tolerate hatred against anyone. Thank you for your time and thank you for honoring Sean's last wish.

I apologize for not putting a link, but a. i don't know how and b. i haven't posted pictures in forever! These are pics of the last few weeks....

It's late. I'm sitting here thinking about Monica, although I don't know why. I was just thinking about the first few weeks after we broke up, wondering how I could've laughed, put on makeup, did anything that wasn't a necessity. I just remember thinking that eventually I would be okay. Emily and I were playing a word association game tonight, like one word to describe people we both know. She asked for a word to describe Monica, and that made me think of the beginning of my relationship with her. I remember the infatuation I felt...overpowering me, and taking me completely by surprise. I remember that it started with her having a crush on me and me thinking that was cute, but no big deal. Then she left me a message on Facebook and I got really excited. Then the girls at B&N were having a makeover party and I went because I wanted to see her. And on our first date...it started out kind of bumpy, but at the end of the night, my cheeks ached from smiling so much. Every little moment meant so much to me. Painting pottery, her kissing me goodbye in the mornings, the text messages she'd send me....I was so happy wrapped up in those moments with her...And even now it hurts to know that she doesn't think about me. And yeah, I'm pretty sure she doesn't. I (drunkenly) texted her Saturday night and she didn't even know who it was...
I don't miss her anymore...I guess I'm just shocked that I lived through that. And I'm a bit jaded to think it'll ever happen to me again. I've went on several dates since we broke up to a. not let her win and leave me permanently cynical, and b. to find that feeling again. When I get close and then it doesn't work out (like with Kelly) I get really sad and miss how I felt for her-dancing with her, our first kiss, watching movies...
I think maybe it'll all work out for the best. This year has definitely gave me a stronger respect for myself and a lot more knowledge about who I am. I definitely don't try to have relationships with people just because they like me and I don't pretend or try to be something I'm not to make someone like me. I guess the biggest thing I've realized that with friends, lovers, jobs, or really, anything-some things fit and some just don't. You can only compromise so much. And one thing I'm not willing to change is me. Everyone has flaws, but I've realized-I love every single person that I care about in spite of, and even because of, their flaws. Whether they're physical or emotional. No one is perfect and I wouldn't want anyone in my world to be. And that includes myself. I don't have to be anything other than me and I'm still okay with that. So I don't regret anything this year.
....but I wouldn't mind a little romance.

Life's been sort of weird lately...
I don't know if this is normal or not, but I've had just....so many thoughts all the time about death, dying, funerals, the afterlife...I have these weird dreams where my cousin invites me to go to the store with her, so I'm in the car when she dies...or I find out I'm dying...or Sean is there talking to me...or my little brother dies...or I'm at my funeral....
Maybe it's normal only if two people in your life die within a month of each other....
What else...
I went on a date last week with this girl Cammy...I was pretty excited because we had a lot to talk about on the phone, but there was just no attraction or chemistry there. I hope we can be friends but it was just hard because it reminded me of how much I cared about Monica...something I don't like to be reminded of. I'm giving up on relationships for a little while. Being alone would actually probably be good for me. Alyssa, Emily, Monica, Lindsay, Jen, Amber, Cammy, Elisha, Nikki..those are all the girls who've liked me this year. I'm not boasting, if that's how it appears. My friends say I'm too picky, but I think if you really like someone you think their imperfections are cute...Aside from that....
I may have my job back at Barnes and Noble...did I mention I was fired from there a few weeks ago? It was such a stupid technicality and I spoke to the district manager yesterday who said she'd get back to me about possibly coming back...
Aside from that....
I'm going to see a psychiatrist tomorrow. I think I'm handling all the changes and stress in my life pretty well, but sometimes I don't know....Sometimes I'm so proud of myself and other times I feel like I'm on the verge of breaking down....
Something small will remind me of working at Greenville Tech..or B&N...or being with Monica...or my cousin...or Sean...and I just want to give up and cry. I finally prayed about it a couple of nights ago. Praying isn't something I always do and I'm not exactly a huge churchgoer. But I believe in God. And I believe we all have souls...This may sound weird, but when Sean had been pronounced brain dead I squeezed his hand and felt...nothing. He was still breathing but he wasn't there. That's why I want to be cremated. I hate boxes and the dark and I hate looking at a souless body.
Still looking for the light at the end of the tunnel....Let me know if ya see it.

Love you, love everything about you, thinking about being you for Halloween....