I am the mess you chose

The closet you cannot close,

The devil in you I suppose

'Cause the wounds never heal.

-from Everything Changes by Staind

I'm in an odd frame of mind. This happens every now and again, as I'm sure it does with everyone. I'm not sure what exactly brought this on, but it's here. What's off, is that I was in a reallyreallyreally good mood this morning at work and now I'm... Odd. There's just no other word I can come up with for it. I recognize the mood. I've been here before. Thing is, this time, I'm not sure when I'll be able to get it out of my system.

I need to be alone. Soon. Greg will be gone April 14th, which is rapidly approaching, but I'm not sure I can wait that long and not freak out at some point. It's pretty safe to say, though, that if I do have to wait that long and have a freak out, no one will really notice. This isn't something that I've made known to a lot of people that I do. What it really boils down to, I suppose, is that I feel like if I let too many people know, they will know I'm not as strong of a person a everyone seems to think I am and have always been. And I know it's nothing serious. I'm not contemplating playing the Suicide Game or anything like that. Chances are I'm just being overdramatic and full of hormone induced moody bullshit. But, I know how I am when I get in this frame of mind and, really, being alone to work it out in my own way, is the only way I know how to deal with it.

There is a lot I haven't accomplished in my life. Granted, I'm still rather young, so there's plenty of time to do some things. There are a lot of choices I wish I had made differently. A lot. Regrets? No, not at all. After all, I made the choices I did for a reason. And had I not made them, I wouldn't have gone down the path that I have and, ultimately, become the woman I am today. But those fucking What ifs... Nag at me relentlessly when I'm like this. What if I hadn't done this or What if I had gone there... Things like that. And I wind up imagining what my life would be like. Which is totally fine. I think more people daydream a bit like that then they care to admit. But what I don't like about that, is that once I'm done imagining, my heart just aches. And I wind up wondering about people I've loved through my life and what I've done to drive them away. More often than not, I realize it's pretty much just an issue of growing apart or whatever, but not when I get like this. When I'm in the frame of mind I'm in right now, I'm convinced that everything that has ever gone a different way than what I wanted, is my fault. Regardless of whether or not there's really even fault to be found.

I want to go home and be alone. Just me. I want a bottle or two of wine and I want to be left alone to look through the things I've collected in my suitcase over the years. I want to be able to just purge myself of those feelings all at once. When I get like this, I can usually find a time to do just that. But I have to be alone. I need to be alone in order to let myself go. I tend to cry when I do this. Crying in front of humans? Not an option. Hell no. That shows weakness and I can't let people see that. No. With the exception of What Dreams May Come, I will not allow people to see me even tear up at a movie. (that movie tears me apart everytime I see it) Chances are, there was something instilled in me when I was younger that makes me not be able to cry in front of people. If it ever actually does happen, I'm either very drunk or there is something very wrong. That's just the way it is. I've been interrupted before, and the moment someone walks in on that, there is nothing but something and sunshine flying out of my ass. When they leave, I continue. But, this time, I just want the house to myself so I don't have to worry about someone randomly walking in and having this whole awkward thing. I want to be able to go through my things and be able to... I guess, grieve, over things that make me ache. Be able to have one night to myself where I don't have to be so fucking chipper or strong. I want to just not be happy and not have to blame it on my fucked up hormones. Ok, so 9 times out of 10, that actually is the problem, but damn it, I don't want to have to keep saying it. I want to light my candles, drink my wine and be fucking emo. Be a fucking emo girl! And I want to do that without being stared at by anyone. I don't want to have to worry if someone needs me to listen to them talk about their day. I don't want to have to worry about anyone needing me to wash clothes or sheets. I don't want to have to worry about getting up and going to work. I don't want to worry about paying the fucking bills. I don't want to worry about whether or not I'm gonna be able to buy fucking groceries so I can make dinner. I don't want to worry about people getting pissed off at me if I don't send a pair of fucking jeans somewhere.

I want to remember when my life wasn't so full of worries. I want to think about when things were simpler, even though the most trivial things felt like life and death issues. I want to remember what it was like to have someone go somewhere with you out of their love for you, cuzz they wanted to see you happy, instead of telling you it's out of the question cuzz they think it's beneath them. I want to remember who I was. I want to figure out where I lost myself...

Here's the bullshit of everything, though. I want to be alone, yet I'm terrified of it. At least at night. My cat, Harley, has learned how to unlock the lock on the door knobs for front and back door. My back door is ALWAYS locked. That door is very rarely ever used. When I see one of the locks is moved, I tend to panic. In my mind, when the back door is unlocked, everything can change. Everything becomes dangerous. When the back door isn't locked... HE can get in. And while I know he doesn't know where I live and, more than likely, doesn't think about me at all, the fact that that door is not locked means everything happened. That it actually happened. And if it happened once, it can happen again. And so I panic. The only explanation I have for that door coming unlocked is Harley. She's opened the door to my bedroom a couple times to let herself out and I've seen her unlock the front door. The dryer is right next to the back door, so she has ample opportunity. The deadbolt isn't unlocked, so everything suggests that my soon to be 12 year old cat, is fucking with my head. But it still sends me into a panic. And I hate that even more than letting people see me cry.

I want to be alone and yet, I'm fucking terrified of it at the same time...

Hello world. My name is fucked in the head. How are you?

So, his mom bought his ticket. He'll be gone April 14 - 17. He never even asked if I was upset that he had told me he wanted me to go and then made plans to go with out me. heh. I'm contemplating taking the time off anyway and just spending the weekend drunk. I could save some money back and buy tickets to see Whitey Morgan on the 14th and Slave to the System on the 15th up at The Machine Shop. Find me a driver and just get shit faced. Or I can buy a few bottles of wine and play art.

I had a dream that I had a bunch of wine and a piece of canvas as big as the floor where the kitchen table sits. I was drinking wine and drawing with my charcoals and pastels. I had charcoal smudges everywhere and was so into whatever it was that I was drawing, that I didn't notice a friend had walked in. He was just standing in the doorway. I had an opera blaring from a stereo and was just feverishly drawing. I'd sit back and look at it and sip my wine and then just tear into it again, the whole my friend was just watching me in awe. It made me want to play art again. And, I was wicked skinny, too, so THAT was awesome. LOL

I think that's what I'll do. I think I'm gonna out in for my vacation, get wine and play art while Greg is gone. Maybe I'll see if my friend wants to come over, too. Hell, I haven't seen him in a while and Greg doesn't want to actually meet him, so that won't be an issue. And while he may not be happy that I asked him over while I'm home alone, he can get over that. I'm not sacrificing my friend for anyone again. Matt pulled that shit with me. Never again...

So, now I have a plan. Vacation time for when I was asked to go with Greg but then left out of the actual planning process. Getting a ginormous canvas to play art on while drinking wine. Asking Ron if he wants to come over and keep me company. He has to pick up the video he left over last time anyway. And it always helps that I have someone with me when there's no one else coming home. I have issues with being home alone.

Now, to work on that wicked skinny thing...

Welp, looks like I have once again neglected this blogs. Ugh. I need to stop doing that. It just seems like if there's not a whole lot of drama going on in front of my face, I forget about this blog. O_o

So, not too much has really been happening. Still throwing darts on Wednesdays and then going up to The Machine Shop to make an asshole out of myself at karaoke afterwards. I'm generally a pretty good singer, but I'm always drunk as hell when I'm up there for some reason and I sound like shit. I don't like that. It's seriously bothering me that I sound bad when I'm up there. Doing it sober is always an option, but being on that stage where some of my favorite bands have played sold out shows is pretty intimidating. One of these days...

I picked the boy up from his dad's a few weeks ago and saw the fiance making flower arrangements in the living room with her brother's girlfriend. They were lilies. At first, I thought that the boy had wanted to do something nice for me at random like he does sometimes and since his dad knows lilies are my favorite, I thought maybe he had helped him pick some out or something. The boy had actually asked me earlier in the week if lilies were my favorite cuzz he remembered them being planted under my bedroom window. That thought was there for only a minute, though, as I realized it was the fiance and her brother's girlfriend making the bouquets and laughing. When the boy and I got out to the car and on our way home, I asked him what the flowers were for. He said they were for teh wedding. I asked when it was and he said he didn't know, but that it was gonna be soon. He then went on and on about how his brothers and sister (the fiance's kids) and his two little cousins will be there and blahblahblah happy kid babble. I'm glad he's happy about it. It's important to me that he be happy that his parents remarry. I guess I'm just still a bit taken a back about the speed it's happening for his father is all.

I know it's not really any of my business, but I'd like to know when the wedding is. I'm sure the boy will be staying with his grandparents when it happens as majority of weddings are on the weekend and the boy is with his dad on the weekends. And I'm a little weired out by the way the lilies are making me feel. It's like just seeing them reopened all the old hurt somehow. I had a bouquet my mom bought me at the last minute. It was a nice bouquet and I('m glad I had it, but I didn't get to pick out my own flowers. If I had, I would've had lilies. I wore a dress that was my mother's but was too big on her. It barely fit me since I was 6 months pregnant. It was a nice dress, but I didn't really have a choice in it. It was wear that one or wear the same maternity clothes I'd been alternating days wearing. I got my hair done by myself. I was dropped off at the salon by the boy's dad. I told them to pretty much do whatever they wanted, but I wanted it up. I had a lot of hair then, so me telling them to do whatever as long as it was up was like giving them a barbie to play with. My hair was beautiful, full of ringlet curls that cascaded. I was almost late to the City Hall cuzz my step-dad and my little brother got into a fight about something. The day became about them. No one had really been focused on me anyway, but having everything suddenly hinge on whether or not they got their shit together really aggravated me. Add in the pregnancy hormones and the nagging thought that we needed to wait a little longer before getting married and you have instant stressed out pregnant bride. I forced my smile in the pictures that were taken. I tried desperately to hide my belly with my flowers. And I stood in the back of the room the majority of the time we were there, trying not to burst into tears. My wedding was nothing I had envisioned it would be. Like most little girls, I had dreamed up the wedding I wanted when I was very very young. The only thing I got that I wanted? I walked down the "aisle" by myself.

Seeing those lilies made me think of everything that I missed. The planning, the having brides maids, the dress fittings... All that shit that is SO stressful while it's happening, but makes for memories you'll always have. The only thing I was able to do was pick out a set of wedding bands in white gold that together cost about $70. His parents bought them for us cuzz we were that broke. Heh. I didn't have a honeymoon. I went home and slept on the couch. There was no grand love making or whatever. Hell, I didn't want him to touch me for most of my pregnancy anyway. I slept on the couch that night. I don't even remember where he slept.

Seeing those lilies made me jealous as hell. She's getting all the memories. She's getting the flowers. She's getting the man he promised me he would be, but never became. And while I'm more than happy to step aside and let them be happy, it still hurts. And I hate myself for it.

I hate that this is hurting me. I hate that when I look at Greg, all I can wonder is if he's gonna be like the boy's dad was. Is he going to promise me things that he knows will make me happy and then not follow through? Is he gonna sit there and talk about things that I want for our future, say he wants them too and then sit back while I work my ass off to try and accomplish those things? Greg and I had talked about taking a few days off work this summer and going to either Vermont or Conneticut. For some reason I've always wanted to do something like that. Stay at a bed and breakfast and take a tour of the vineyards in Conneticut or go play golf in Vermont during the day and have a romantic dinner at night and get drunk on wine and food and just being around each other. I've always fantasized about something like that. It's completely girly, I know, but I've just always wanted to do something like that. Greg seemed to get just as excited as I was about it. I told him that if we agreed to start saving money to do that, it needed to happen. That if it didn't, I was going to be very upset. He said it would and I set about looking at places and tours and what not. I signed up for information to be sent to me and all that crap. Started figuring out how much of my check I would set aside and considered opening a seperate account just for that. I asked last week if he wanted to golf at Sugarloaf or if he wanted to go somewhere else. He kind of looked at me confused. Greg is very forgetful, so I reminded him about the trip. He said he wouldn't be able to go with me. I guess he's his nephew's sponsor or something. He's 2 and it has to do with the Catholic church, which Greg's family is devout. I just looked at him and he said that he needs to use the time he was gonna take for our trip to go down to one of the Carolina's, I can't remember which, so he can do this for his nephew. He redeemed himself when he told me he wanted me to go with him. I said I'd see about getting the time. It's much sooner than what we were planning, but f I could get the time, we could just do stuff in whatever Carolina we were gonna be in. It wasn't what I wanted exactly, but I could handle that. I figured driving would be cheaper and we could stay in a small B&B or a hotel or something. Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, his mom called. She wanted to know if he knew if he actually got the time off for sure. I don't know what all was said, but when I asked, I found out that she wants to buy him a plane ticket. Notice I didn't say "us". I'm not sure if that's his mom's way of telling me I'm not welcome or if Greg thought that I'd just drive down there after work one night or something. When he said his mom wanted to buy him a ticket, I said I can't afford that. He kinda shrugged. I told him there was obviously no point in my trying to get the time off now and I left. I'm so disappointed it's unreal. And all I can wonder about is whether or not he's going to do the same thing the boy's father did to me.

I'm hurting and it's over stupid shit. I know it's stupid, yet I can't make it stop. And I that myself for it....