talking to myself

My irrational fear of new.

It’s stupid. It’s irrational.  But it is predictable, for the most part.

Anxiety blows.

I manage it the best I can, without medication at this point.  What I do works for me.  I’d rather deal with the anxiety than the side effects of more medication.

My choice.

We have a unique relationship,

 my subconscious and I. 

Enjoy.

*A note – being this is pretty much an internal monologue, there’s some language in it that I don’t generally use when I post.*

He wanted to take me out for a nice dinner.

I honestly can’t remember the last nice dinner I went to.

It was very sweet. 

Bastard.

I was doing fine.  Really. despite having worked eight days in a row and not sleeping well. I was fine.

well, I was pretty damn tired.

But.  

Looking forward to seeing him. 

I went to pick him up from where he was staying.

This when our story begins.

Me, in my car figuring out where I'm picking him from

Not new.  Done that before.

Wait! You’ve not picked him up from the house before.

There will be people there!

You’ll have to meet people. 

And be social and polite with people you don’t know.

You don’t know what he’s told them about you!

Aaaaagggghhhhh.

Holy marigolds. Dammit. Fucking hell.

I drove past the house twice before I forced myself to park.

This is stupid.

It’s a house, you've been into houses.

Just get out of the car.

NO.

the car is safe.  

OUTSIDE is not safe. 

If you get out you'll have to walk to the door.

G E T.

OUT.

of the

C A R.

Fine.  Out. Happy?

Ah hell.  I have to knock on the door.

Nonononononono.

if you knock on the door you’ll have to GO IN.

Shut.

The.

Fuck.

Up.

*silence*

I’m knocking.

*silence*

He answered.  

See. Just him.  Not new.

Grumblegrumblegrumble.

AHHHHH

See, you have to meet someone.

I was right!

This is terrible.

We’re gonna die!

Shut up.

I am not going to die.

Actually I think I've met this person before.

You’re lying.

Introductions were made.

I didn’t die.

Comments on pink hair were made.

Is it really that extraordinary?

not important.

get back to the van.

Backtothevanbacktothevanbacktothevan.

My subconscious shut up at that point, but I knew it was just waiting.

Just.

Waiting.

He met the kids. And the dog. 

He introduced himself to the dog before my kids. 

Priorities, Silly boy.

Dropping the kids off at their dad’s.

More introductions.

My subconscious was still ominously silent.

Then

DINNER

HA. NO.

Terrible idea. 

eating is stupid.  

Shut up.

I am going to dinner

AND

I’m going to damn well enjoy it.

"Wait, can we get scotch first?"

"Sure."

Newnewnewnewnewnewnewnew.

Yes, this liquor store is new. Deal.

Didn’t have what he wanted.

see?  

new is not good. 

told you.

Finally found what he wanted,

then on to dinner

 The parking lot was full. 

Never parked in this lot before.

I’ve parked before. Deal.

If parking is not new, why are you so terrible at it?

Great. 

my subconscious is giving me shit about my parking skills.

RESTUARANT

NEW

NOT NEW.  

Dammit. 

You’ve been here before.  

It’s attached the gaddamn bar I Friday at. 

NOT NEW.

Him? New?

No. not new.

But, New.

Yes, okay, in this context new - ish.

He’s fun. I like him.

*grudging acceptance*

ORDERING

A bit of discussion about what I don’t like.  

At this point he kinda took pity on me and didn’t ask me to make any decisions about starters.  

For which, I am eternally grateful because I couldn’t have made any more decisions.

DRINKS

NO NEW.  

Nonononono.

SHUT UP.

I WANT new.

This is new and he is new

and  

I WANT NEW.

*silence*

Look, that one.  

It has bourbon.  

Bourbon is whiskey. 

Whiskey is not new.

okay.

My usual coping mechanism when dealing with stressful situations is to not eat.

That was not going to work.

I’m eating.

All this new food.

So you can just deal with it.

no. 

can't

really.

too much.

Fine.

I’m going to taste it all.

Deal?

Deal.

I did taste it all.

It was yummy.

My anxiety didn’t go away, it just sorta gave up.

I wonder if I ran out of adrenalin.

I have a few friends that make the anxiety lose its intensity.

One of them sat across from me, completely unaware he was making it better.

He is aware new is hard for me, but that didn't stop him from pushing my limits. 

If I want to spend time with him, it’s all gonna be new.

I have no idea what he thought of the whole adventure, but I’m sure I wasn’t engaging company.

I certainly don’t remember much of what we talked about.

I do remember smiling and having a good time.

At some point he threatened to find my big-little-brother and insist take me skydiving.

new.new.new.scary.new

he's joking....I think.

I remember other things about dinner, but they’re my things to remember.

I half expected him to just ask me to take him home after dinner. 

There’s no way I had been anything other than shy and awkward.

I’m all kinds of awkward at the best of times, add exhaustion and anxiety and I’m sure I wasn’t very much fun at all.

But he didn’t.

yay, new!

always friends, sometimes more

I made the decision a while ago to be myself. It’s stupid not to be.  Blunt and honest. No games and no pretending.  I’m pretty good at being me.  I’ve gotten lots of self confidence beaten into my head over the last two years. People enjoy my company. I don’t understand it, but I don’t question it. 

Where I lack self-confidence is in myself as a woman.  I don’t get hit on when I go out.  I don’t ever get approached.  I’ve not been on a date since I was seventeen.
 Eighteen years ago.

When I was seventeen I started dating the man who would become my husband.  We spent the next seventeen years together.  Since our marriage ended two people have expressed interest in me. 
Two.

Neither of those two people would be up for me and my complicatedness.

Last summer I reconnected with a friend from a life time ago.  I took a chance and we had a conversation.  Since that conversation we've had quite a lot of conversations.  He’s spent the last six months pointing out the flaws in my reasoning, making me smile, being there for me when he’s able.  

I like him. Always did, it just never happened, before.

We were finally in the same place at the same time.  We carved out a bit of time to spend together.  I looked forward to it. Very much so. I looked forward to spending time with someone who knew all of my complicated-ness and still wasn’t scared off. 
Really, almost too good to true.

That's when my subconscious started.
Yep. 
Its too good to be true. 
He’s going to realize I’m a lot and decide I’m not worth his time.

That thought kept going in circles in my brain.   
Too good to be true. Too good to be true.  Too good to be true.

That, and I was afraid.

Very.

I was very afraid that I had been terribly wrong.
I was afraid that in spite of my bone-deep certainty that I didn't want a forever I was really just hiding from myself.
I was afraid that others were right and I really did want a forever, a someone to cling to, lean on.  
I was afraid that I was hiding from the truth because I was afraid of getting hurt.  
I was afraid I’d just gotten so used to sleeping alone that I didn't remember how nice it was not to be alone.  
I was afraid that I going back to always-friends after sometimes-more was not going to be easy. 
I was afraid there would be a hole in my heart when he left.

 At some point, lying in the dark, listening to him sleep, I realized  that I had been right.  I know myself better than anyone else. My fears were groundless.

I don’t want a forever. 

Love him?  Nope.
Wish he lived here? Nope.

My subconscious relaxed and I was finally able to sleep.

I don’t want him to stay.
I am so happy I don’t want him to stay.

Oh, I want more time with him.  I'll take as much as he can give me. 
I want him to come back, as long as he wants to come back.

He says he does, he even said when he’ll be back. 

I’m having a hard time believing him. Oh, I think I’m pleasing to look at, but I’m a lot.  Being more, even just a sometimes-more, means accepting all of me.

But. Trying not to question it.

So, until he visits again,   I’ll enjoy being always-friends.  His messages will make me smile and I’ll look forward to actual time together.  And if he changes his mind and I’m too much, so be it. We’ll still be always-friends.  I’ll just have to buy my own dinner. And sleep alone.

I know that as long as he can say, “I will be back on this date and I want to see you” I’ll look forward to that time and anyone else will have to be pretty amazing for me to be willing to let go of my sometimes-more.

There is a point that he won’t be able to say that though.  He’ll be starting a new adventure later this year that means it will probably be two-ish years before he’s back. 
He doesn’t know.
I don’t know. 

A lot can happen in two years and nothing can happen in two years.



Tomorrow will take care of tomorrow.

I’m gonna enjoy today.

i don't want a forever...and that's okay

Relationships.

Sometimes I think it would be easier if I wanted to follow the storybook path of how things generally happen.

But I don't want that.

It took me a long time to figure out what I want. First I had to figure who I am.  For 17 years I'd been part of a couple. I really didn't know who I was. - am - who I am.  

I figured it out.  

I am Kristin Michelle. 

At first I wanted a future with a someone. After 17 years it was hard to adjust to not having someone there. No one there to catch me when I fell, or help me run a household, to turn to when all I wanted was to forget the world for a couple of hours.

But, at my core I knew I wasn't ready for any sort of relationship. 
So I found my friends.  Friends I can laugh with and call when things weren't going right. Friends who never need to ask if they can invade my bubble.  

M'Amy.
My Friday ladies.
and
My Younger-Than-Me Big Brother

Alone, I dealt with frozen pipes, scary noises in the dark, car trouble, bills. 
Alone. I made all the decisions. 
I did what I thought was best.

and I liked being alone.  I was thriving being alone.
Sure, I missed having a someone around sometimes.   Watching movies curled up next to someone is much nicer than watching movies alone.  But I want to have that time on my own terms.  I want to share my space on my terms.

I don't want a forever.

There's nothing wrong with not wanting a forever.

I repeat.

I don't want a forever.  and that's okay.

I was driving my eldest home from somewhere a while back.  Out of the blue she commented that I was happy.  She went on to elaborate that different people need different things.  She was happy that her Daddy had found someone.  And she was happy that I didn't need to find someone.

I was taken aback a bit.  She's twelve.  She's watched her dad and I take to very different paths.  Both are good paths.  They're just completely different paths.   By this point, I had serendipitously found my sometimes-someone.  So she was watching that unfold, very slowly unfold.

My twelve year saw the truth before I did.

My heart isn't broken and just needing time to mend. 

I just don't need a forever. 
I'm happier being just me.

I like being alone.
Alone is not lonely.
It can be, but being "alone" doesn't immediately means you're lonely.

I like being the only adult in my house, making all my own decisions. I love the independence that comes with being alone. I like going out with friends and not worrying about what time I need to be home, or sitting at home wondering how late he's going to be.  

I like having the freedom to just be.

My Facebook feed is full of couples. Couples who've been married for decades, couples struggling to stay together, newly made couples looking forward to a bright future together.

I'm very happy for them all, they've found what's best for them.

I don't want to be part of a couple, but, it still...
well...
I still feel it...
that little ache of "oh...I wish that would make me happy."

But it won't.
Forever won't make me happy.

But I know what will.
It's complicated.
I'm complicated. 
My life is complicated. 
There isn't anything about me that isn't complicated. 
Except for maybe my infatuation with whiskey. That's not complicated.

It's easier to say what I don't want.

I don't want a bunch of notches. 

I can't do notches. 
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. 
My subconscious doesn't do well with "new."  
Essentially, that's what a notch is - New, every time.

Um. No. 
Wish I could. Really do.
because, in the very wise words of one of my friday girls, "Sometimes you just need a notch, ya know?"

But, I can't.  So I won't.

What do I want?  If we stick with my furniture analogies, I guess I want a broken table. Sort of. 

It's confusing, I know. 
like I said, complicated.

You know what I else don't want?

I don't want is to marry again.
Ever. 
Nope. 
It was great, just not for me. 

I know that now.


I don't want to be that important to someone, ever again. 




"You complete me" isn't for me. 



I complete me.