Just saying

I had love once. A mutual love that was shared. I had it in my life. I was loved and adored and nurtured. And I am grateful for knowing what that feels like.

I have decided it's time to stop all of this crazy bullshit. It's time to stop looking for "lover boys" and stop selling myself short. Stop searching. Stop acting out of boredom.

I'm actually really happy right now. Maybe it's because I hit rock bottom...maybe it's the practice of being grateful. Either way I'm okay just being me, cause I'm pretty amazing. Just saying.

Day 13 and 14

Day 13 : Grateful to chose whether or not I will think about any stupid boy, and to not have to get home and not know where my car is or when my boyfriend is going to be returning it so I can use it.

Day 14 : Grateful to take the longest bath ever (refilling the tub twice) and not having to explain myself to anyone.

That God Damn Rock

While making earrings, I asked, "am I just totally retarded when it comes to dating?" (Believe me, I ask myself these questions constantly - you're not the only one's scratching your head).

I feel like I'm spinning out of control. And I guess the key component that is fucking me up is, well, sex. It's time to take a dose of abstinence. It seems easy enough, something that just comes naturally for most, at least on the first date maybe up into the third, but for me...I move fast. Which is probably why things end fast.

Here's a little update on my dating life since Sunday (it's Tuesday by the way)

I was officially an utter asshole to my ex boyfriend (I'm sorry - I'm an asshole). I posted a great assholish blog about grey area, pretty much just narrowing in on the then current situation with a "certain love interest" returning and completely overlooking any future repercussions or potential outcomes. Good job Kyla.

I canceled (rain checked) a "casual" get together with a boy that I haven't seen since 6th grade who found me on facebook and wanted to catch up on Monday over beers.

I had a whirlwind of sex with a "certain love interest". Ending, again, before it began. Don't get drunk and have sex with people. Don't get drunk and have sex with people. Don't get drunk and have sex with people. And, don't confuse your male best friend who you've known for 2+ years and shared numerous life experiences with, who has been there for you through thick and thin, ups and down, for anything less than a man when it comes to having sex and trying to have a relationship with him.

I've got another future engagement penciled on my calendar to meet with another gentlemen who I met at the BSC Ducks game, when his out of town guests clear out in about at week. Don't get drunk and have sex, don't get drunk and have sex.

I'm sick. I am jobless. I have 2 leads. I've made 5 new pairs of earrings. I am about ready to give up on men and dating ALL TOGETHER but with encouragement will try it sans sex. I think it's time. It's not in my character to give up on life but this little juggling act that I've got going, sometimes seems to never end. I'm so tired of this shit. I thought I had a chance for "happiness" a real connection, a friend and lover and it all backfired and now I feel like all efforts are in vain and every path leads to an empty spring. Perhaps I was Sisyphus in a past life - or maybe eternally.

so highschool

I pulled up to "my" parking spot under my house and a car was parked in the road right next to it. A pair of fringed moccasin boots were swaying back and forth being held up by the arms of the boy whose legs they were wrapped around. Grrreeaaat. Perfect. I slowed down and stopped just as the girls head peeked around the boys shoulders. Then the boy's head turned. I pointed to the spot next to their car. He turned around for a second, still holding this girl's legs, then turned back to me and shrugged, insinuating that there were other places for me to park. So I politely, (with raised eyebrows) pointed to the spot and then pointed up at my house as I mouthed, "I live here." Finishing the sentence in my mind with, "so fucking move asshole."

Ahhh.

As he dropped her legs and she dismounted off the car, I started to think about the days when I would sneak away with a boy so we could stare at each other, with my legs coyly wrapped around him, smiling and teasing. What happened to that kind of intimacy, then called "flirting". You couldn't just have sex, so you had to have sex with your minds and in your eyes and hair and fingers and knees and the sides of your toes. Sex was everywhere outside of your clothes. It was on the back of someone's car wearing his hoodie, your best jeans and a pair of moccasin boots. Sex was a cluster of fear in the back of your brain but power in the corners of your lips.

You also had to do it wherever you could find a place to do it, so you no matter how bad it was, it was good if you could get it. I suppose when it becomes more convenient to have sex, you can afford to be a bit pickier about the actual act as opposed to what is leading up to it.

When their car pulled away and I rolled into my spot, I was a little bummed to not have that in my life, yet. I grabbed my dry cleaning and other things to schlep up the crumpled steps to my single person house. When I reached the top, I looked over the city and smiled. The sun was shining.

Day 11 & 12

Day 11 : Grateful to be available to other single men :)

Day 12 : Grateful to come home and know exactly how my house will look and who will be in it...just Josie waiting to be fed :)

Back to black

I created a grey space. The only grey space I like to have in my life is the clouds over my head in Portland, Oregon. Certainly not anywhere near my personal life. But this time I thought, what the heck, people do it. I had a partner in crime sitting with me and a half bottle of wine down the pipe when I made the call. He asked if it was a booty call and I wondered why it even needed to be clarified. I think he was just trying to make me squirm. It worked. I dodged every question except for when he should come over. An hour and a half later....

I was clear with my decision when I ended our relationship. Clear with my decision to still be friends...not so clear when his text messages were lined with unresolved emotions. Then quickly muddied by a booty call. Hello grey area!

I was actually enjoying a bit of the sloppiness of it all. Perhaps because it wasn't my mind in the grey, simply my actions. Those could simply be remedied by ending them, and hopefully on a friendly note. Was I kidding myself? It could be one of my favorite things to do based on my track record. And, I suppose it didn't help that the promise of a return of someone special was on the horizon. I was clear with my intent on that, maybe just to myself, but I knew. My ex was clear on my intent with that, though his clarity came from this blog, and not my lips. So I floundered a little, splashing the grey around when (not) answering his retorts about being a place holder until "he" came around. Eventually grey turns back into black or white when more information is entered....it was only a matter of time.

A day later, a bucket of clarity was poured into the mix. "He" came back. A month early mind you, but there he was, on my voice mail and on his way over. I thought I would have more time to friendly unwind the entanglings my ex and I were in. So much for timing. I will say, he was right. But of course, in any situation where you "should" answer honestly, you don't for courtesy sake. It's right up there with, you "shouldn't" break up over the phone, or you "shouldn't" tell someone if they have food in their teeth - but I DO THOSE THINGS... If I was doing what I "should" have been doing from the beginning, it wouldn't start with me drinking that second glass, or picking up the phone. So I meekly followed proto-call, and denied his inquisitions, out of courtesy.

It's been a few days and a blog post since my ex and I had any contact. By now, I know, I know he knows, just as he predicted. I thought of calling. I thought of texting. I thought of what I would say, with nothing in mind I knew every word would be catalogued as ridiculous. And every word would be. "It's time to fold em...I had a great time. Of course, I like you and have no hard feelings. It was what it was and I hope we can just be cool." How does that sound to someone who has said the words, "I love you" to you. Probably not good. Nothing will sound good. Would it be best to just say nothing at all? Can life just keep going? Is it better to have a moment? That is the grey area. The area where feelings go to marinate in aloneness and solidarity. Nothing can be done about them. They just exist. And for who knows why or for how long. And it is what it is. I just want him to know I wish him well and am grateful for sharing the time we did. Damnit...I've got a phone call to make.

Day 10

Day 10 : Grateful to jump in my car and drive.