She was sitting next to me again. I didn't know who she was, well, I didn't know her name at least. She always sat next to me though, never said anything, she was just always there.

She had a tattoo of a butterfly on her neck, facing me. Her hair was long but always pulled back tight. Her style matched mine, glam rock, she was quiet but aggressive. She always had a look like she was ready to explode. Right on the edge. She never took any crap from anyone - especially men. Maybe she was a lesbian? No, don't make that assumption just because she's strong and stubborn. I kinda hoped she was. I always liked new girls better when I had suspicions they were gay. Then disappointment later when they gawk about how hot a guy is on American Idol. Then I hated them. But then again there's never any hot guys on American Idol so who knows.

Who did she love? Did she love at all? I'm sure she did. I did. If I can she can! I bet he's just like her. Aggressive, loves to fight, kinda judgmental but mostly of himself. I bet he's beautiful too. No, she's beautiful, he'd be handsome. Probably tall. Probably cares about his car more than his clothes. Probably loves her more than he'd ever admit.

And her to him? She probably hates the kitchen but would brave it for him. Probably hates giving him a back massage but does it for him. His family probably loves her and they're probably some of the only people she's truly shy around.

I miss her when she's gone. Where does she go when she's not with me?

Our chairs had arm rests. I wish they didn't. I wish she was closer to me. I wish we could be the same person. For once.

Dope - Gaga always comes through right when I need her most

 

When Lady Gaga performed this live, she started crying and could barely sing. She became very emotional, and so did I. 

http://youtu.be/1iSd_wTuA3U


[Verse 1]
Cork's off, it's on
The party's just begun
I promise this
Drink is my last one
I know I fucked up again
Because I lost my only friend
God forgive my sins
Don't leave me, I
Oh I will hate myself until I die

[Chorus]
My heart would break without you
Might not awake without you
Been hurting low, from living high for so long
I'm sorry, and I love you
Sing with me, "Bell Bottom Blue"
I'll keep on searching for an answer cause I need you more than dope

[Post-Chorus]
I need you more than dope
Need you more than dope
Need you more than dope
I need you more than dope

[Verse 2]
Toast one last puff
And two last regrets
Three spirits and
Twelve lonely steps
Up heaven's stairway to gold
Mine myself like coal
A mountain of a soul
Each day, I cry
Oh, I feel so low from living high

[Chorus + Post-Chorus]

[Outro]
I need you more
Need you more
I need you more than dope

You said you did

I don't know if it was because she was drunk, or maybe, finally, talking to me on a level I'd never reached with her before. Molly said she had recently considered suicide. She said it'd been so hard lately, that she almost drove out into an intersection. How easy she thought it would be, to just get it over with. She looked at me like it was nothing. I felt the same way.

"I thought about it recently too," I said. "I thought 'I could drive my car off this bridge', but I might survive. But on a motorcycle, well, my chances of dying are increased with that."

"Exactly!" she said like we finally connected. "But what about insurance? Especially if I failed and lived. I couldn't make Dan deal with the increased rates." Insurance rates, that's why my best friend was still alive. My inability to buy a motorcycle right now, was that why I was still alive? Was Armani a reason I am still alive right now? I fought to keep him alive as a kitten it would be rude for me to take life away from myself. But for a while there I thought I was going to die. Work was great, school was great, my friends are supportive and my family is getting along for the moment. But my heart felt lifeless. I was living for myself, and I was not worth it. I thought about boxing some of my stuff up and giving them to friends to hang on to "in case something happened". In case one morning I just didn't wake up, in case my chest pains were too much one day, in case an accident really did occur, in case I died.

It scared me how much sense it made to me. It made sense to kill myself. I just thought "What else would make the pain go away? What would bring me peace?" Where's my mind now? Not sure. Not even sleep knows where I am.

Frank has been acting strange. He doesn't touch me anymore. There's no passion. There's no playing. There's no love when I get in his car, but merely a glance and raised eye brows. He won't cut the cord from his parents and wants to be with them more than he wants to be with me. He's 32 and choosing them. Not that you can't choose your parents, but you can't work on your relationship when you're constantly choosing them over your girlfriend. I suggest a romantic holiday so we can FINALLY get some time alone. He tells me no because he'd rather go with his parents, because they pay for everything. Well, good luck having sex and reproducing with your parents.

Where's the hand on my waist that I used to love so much?

Molly's tried getting the hint across. She said she went up to him when he was avoiding me when we were at a bar for a friends birthday party this past weekend and said, pointing at me across the room, "Look at your beautiful woman over there, Francis, you should have your arms around her right now, go give her a big kiss." he simply replied "Oh yeah?"

Then later when I was third wheel to his convo my cousin said, "Frank you're lucky, you've got the supermodel girlfriend, fun and thin." He simply looked at me and smiled. Yeah, don't hurt yourself showing affection. It's terrible to let people know you're straight and love me. At least you said you did.

I tried to talk to him about it when he took me home. He tried to avoid it the whole time. At my back door he held me and didn't let go. Such a nice embrace, I felt him for once. Felt his warmth, how solid he was. It was either a hug to reassure me he loved me, or a goodbye hug. It might've been a goodbye hug, if I had my motorcycle.

Bad Dreams

It's been a rough week. No, not rough, but not good. Not not good but still bad. It's been a week.


My mom showed me what Alex had been saying about me on Facebook. That I used him, that it was all my fault, that I was immature, not brave or strong, that I wasn't independent and going no where with my life. And how he couldn't wait to start his new life, and that he was happy.

I was pissed.

How can I use someone who's 5000 miles away? I always took care of him while he was here, never accepted his money offerings (although sometimes he would just send it anyway) and I gave him things he could never possibly give me. I worked hard to give him the body he always wanted a female partner to have, and yet he didn't seem to want to work towards giving me the male one I wanted. How can I not be moving forward with my life? I'm graduating soon, earning my writers certificate, have another chance at getting something published, finding a second job, getting my motorcycle license, volunteering and even had my picture taken to help advertise pet adoption events.

Alex had this five year plan that HE HIMSELF made. He never asked for my input or thoughts. He never considered what I wanted while making it. But it was my fault when he could no longer go through with it. He's a control freak. Not to mention when we broke up he sent all our mutual Facebook friends a message saying that I left him for another guy and even called my MOM at work! It was no ones business! Maybe I should send his friends a message saying how bad at sex he is? How I never got anything out of that. My ex Taylor was better than him and we hadn't even had real sex!

Once the flames of my wrath died down (my mom described it as 'fueled by anger' not far from the truth) I found myself checking my moms Facebook almost everyday to make sure the conversation between them died. I pretended to be her a few times to talk to him and help him realize things. But things he says to my mom are different from what he says to me. He told her (me) that he is miserable but puts on a brave face. He misses and loves me and hopes that someday we can be together again. That I "changed" and that I wasn't the girl he once knew.

I told my mom that when we broke up Alex told me he didn't want anything to do with me. No friendship, no communication, no anything. So I told her that includes her, she's a part of ME. Therefore he can't keep in touch with her and "have his cake and eat it too". As he said I was doing several times.

I send out for university info from colleges in Florida and Hawaii. Warm places I know Frank can transfer to and would like to live. Some times I find myself wondering if I should be with Alex. I do still love him and feel as if I've lost something great - even given all the above. It'd be easier to pay for college with him but I remember being bored with him as well. Usually when I get back with an ex it's never what I expect it to be and I'm just disappointed. Would this be the same? Or is the hurt that much more painful because I'm fighting what is supposed to be?

God, I love that asshole.

 

 

 I remember England. I remember the green hills that made you feel like the world was flat and that there was no more beyond the peaks. The narrow twisty roads that looked like a two year old designed them. The stone buildings and the high fashion. How children ran around the super market because it was safe enough to do so, not to mention people never watched where they were pushing their carts - ahem - trolleys, so you were constantly dodging them for the sake of living to see another day. The wind. The rain. The clouds. How a high sixties day was considered nice. No.

I was not an English girl. I was most definitely an American girl.

I loved wide open roads and eighty degree days. Canoeing and tubing. I loved being able to drive everywhere and seeing the sun everyday. Alex said if I moved there I'd be a commodity. People would love to hire me because I'd be different. I would be good for business. But from my experience no one can understand me when I talk.

Me in Subway: "Pickles."
Guy making sandwich: "What? Onions?"
Me: "No, pickles."
Guy: "Cucumber?"
Me: "Yes, because that's exactly what pickles sounds like."
Guy: "Okay,"
Me: "I will murder you in your sleep."
Guy: "Huh?"

I suppose that could be a plus.

But now I find myself at a crossroads. I'm heart broken. Heart broken because I feel for an American man. So I lost more than England, I lost Alex. He gave me another chance, but I refused to leave Frank. And why would I? I'm tired of being alone for months at a time. Frank hasn't done anything terribly wrong yet. Besides chaining me down saying I can't get my motorcycle license or another tattoo. A part of me thinks that's just what I need. Someone to tell me no. But at the same time that makes me feel like I'm trapped and am being punished for no reason. When really Frank loves me and doesn't want me to get killed by a driver ("It's not you, its the other drivers"). And tattoos are addictive and I don't want to go crazy with them, but I've been researching this one for about a year now and I'd really like it. It's text and it would go on the inside of my arm. It's a curse that was inscribed in a pharaohs tomb.

"As for all men who shall enter this my tomb...impure...there will be swift judgement...an end will be made for him...I shall seize his neck like a bird...I shall cast the fear of myself into him."

Lots of double meanings in there too.

But that tattoo is an attempt to distract myself from what's really bothering me. What caused me to have a proper emotional break down. Cut my hair, looking for a drastic change. A motorcycle license to enhance my edginess. Anything to potentially cause self destruction. I've taken an offensive role in hockey and have gotten some requests to join roller derby teams. I'm a tough girl. The only thing that can kick my ass is the emotions from that man. Alex. The man bringing me to my knees and he's not even talking to me anymore. I refuse to take our picture off the entertainment center. And no one has asked me too. I'll take it down when I'm ready. If that day ever comes.

What have I done? I knew what I was doing when I did it. What about our travel tree? How devoted that man was. How loyal and faithful, and all he ever wanted to do was care for me and make my dreams come true. And breakfast in bed (the fastest way to ruin my morning).

I still speak to his Mum on facebook. Trying my best to figure things out and keep in touch. I emailed his work email and he didn't even respond to that. But I knew that wouldn't conjure any results. I've shattered him. And now I'm shattering myself. I'm a shell of who and what I used to be. A broken spirit. I feel dead already. I've thought of suicide. A thought I haven't had since Taylor and I broke up. Not killing myself, but what if I did die? What would I be missing out on? Nothing. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to anymore. Even with Frank, which will probably end up in heart break or divorce someday.

There's no such thing as soul mates. But merely someone who can make us happy. At least for the time being.

I closed the passenger side door and looked at him over the top of the car. He looked back, unaware. "Why do you always do that?" I asked, clearly frustrated.
"What?" He asked.
"At the end of every night you always say something to ruin it."
"I don't know," he said, meeting me on the sidewalk. "I guess I just like confrontation." Frank didn't seem to grasp the idea that I wanted a guy to be sweet and loving and everything I ever needed. All his ex's that I knew of seemed to be what I would call 'tramps'. And why did he have so many single friends with kids? Why did he go out of his way to take care of these other women's children?

Molly said I was immaculate compared to girls he was used to hanging out with and dating. She said he was intimidated by me. My cousins warn him not to fuck it up. Or else. And he knows better than to do so. But sometimes I wonder why he acts the way he does. Why he openly checks out other women, how he can ignore me on the couch when I purposely wore what he asked me to.

Since Frank's an only child he still lived with his parents and why not? He had no reason not to. He was going to inherit everything and didn't have a gf to live with or kids. He had lived on his own before; he had a house in the Florida Keys, until a hurricane washed it away and he came back to wonderful Michigan. He had a million stories to tell and he was interesting, which is what fuels my patience. What will happen when the patience runs out? What will happen when my heart can't take anymore?

The girl with Gold on her lips

I don't know what to do anymore. I just want to be around him. I need his scent and kiss. Even if it tastes like alcohol over half the time.

Alex is a blessing. I'm not sure how I was lucky enough to get a man like him. He's a great supporter and would be a great father. He loves me unconditionally and would always be faithful. He's a good guy playing a good guy. Hard working and successful. A man any woman would be grateful for.
His family loves me and everyone wants us to get married and for me to move far away. But it's easy for them so say. They're not the ones leaving behind their friends and family. Their home town and risking everything. It's a Cinderella story, but am I really a princess?

The American man who is somehow successfully pulling me away from Alex is my very definition of masculinity. Guns, cars, beer, he travels the world and he's a good man. My cousins and best friends all encourage it - in an effort to not lose me. And he's almost ten years older than me. Which itself is a turn on as my love for older men has done nothing but blossom into a must. He was a rambler but is now ready to settle down and have a family. Find a woman who is marriage material. Which is swears is me. I'm marriage material. His family loves me, he can support me, he travels and has family all over the world. He's a good man, and loves kids. He'd be a great father and a loving husband.

So what am I to do? I have developed feelings that have caused me to tell Alex not to propose, again. To postpone, again. Again. What am I doing?

"Am I doing the wrong thing?" I asked my brother Cody, who had no idea what I was talking about. "What if I'm doing the wrong thing?"

"What if you're not?" He said simply. I paused. Yeah, what if I'm not?

Molly was thrilled when I told her Frank kissed me. I thought she was going to slap me. I was almost afraid.

"I'm so sorry!" I said, "I know you told me not to but I didn't exactly know it was coming!"

"Are you kidding, Mesa? This is great! I knew it!"  She was happy. "What are you going to tell Alex?"

My favorite recent question. "I'll tell him the truth." Like it was ever that simple. Molly nodded, and smiled.

A couple days later I told Alex I was going riding with Frank. Alex said: "Remind me to buy Frank a beer next time I'm there. He's a nice guy keeping an eye on you."

He is a nice guy, isn't he?