A beautiful thing :)

Anthropologie sweater from Field Flower

Two and a half months ago, I closed my poetry journal. It has remained on the floor beside my bed, and I have had no desire, or need, to open it, until today. I didn't want to look at all the poems I'd written for a man I no longer love. I didn't want to see the proof that I didn't know enough to say "good-bye". I didn't want to see my tears in words, all over the page, remembering how I cried through most of them, cried through nights for years, wanting the feeling inside of me to leave. But it never left.

It has now left, and I am reborn. I am solid and sure. I am open to radically new things. New has entered my life in a way I never expected, but has been an incredible gift. One day, the burden was lifted. And now there are things I do not know. There are things I have not planned. I am free in a way I've never been. It's a beautiful thing.

I never want to let go.

The most difficult things I have had to do in my life have been to see people as they really are, not what I imagine them to be, but as they really are. And this process usually ends in tears, tears of regret and grief, and then the ultimate work of figuring how to move on.

A few years ago, I had to do this over and over again, and it almost killed me. And I never wanted to do it again. I never wanted to be disappointed again, I guess. But then, this year (oh God), I've had to do it again. I've had to see the people I love for who they really are, and figure out whether or not I'm going to accept them, or whether I'm going to move on (fuuuuuuuck).

The thing is (and this is the most difficult thing), I don't have a lot of relationships that I've had for over a decade. And that makes me want to cling to the ones I have left, to forgive and forget, to make it work when I'm pretty sure it won't. Because I don't want to go on in my life and leave everything behind. I don't want to leave my younger years behind me. I don't want that part of my life to disappear; I don't want that part of me to disappear. And I'm willing to compromise big-time to salvage parts of my life that have all but disappeared. I don't want to lose everyone, because it makes me feel like I'll lose myself in the process.

Sad day.

Differentiate yourself.

I'm not exceptionally good at describing jewelry yet.

So I'm reading this book called Passionate Marriage, by David Schnarch. I guess you could say that it's a book about sex, but it's not really. It's more a book about how sex reflects our intimate relationships in both positive and negative ways. I've pretty much decided that I'm going to give it to people as a wedding gift, maybe two copies, because the book is all about differentiation, and how we can have better relationships when we don't expect the other person to define us or affirm our worth.

In most of my relationships, I don't need other people to give me worth. That's not a hard thing for me. Maybe at one time it was, but now not so much. However, that is not the case in my closest relationships. I have so much trouble saying, "This is where I end and you begin...This is you...This is me." I take on people's problems because I "love" them, but when I do that, it communicates that I don't think that they can handle their own problems, that they need me to function properly, and that's exactly what I do not wish to communicate.

Truly intimate relationships are difficult to navigate. They take constant work, and pain. Sometimes there are easier times than others, or else we wouldn't be able to cope, and we certainly wouldn't stay together. But if being human is hard, in and of itself, then being human with another human has to be exponentially difficult.

So to all y'all out there in long-term partnerships, more power to ya :) You are each a testament to the possibility of love to triumph.

I'm engaged.

I've been eating a lot of spinach lately. I put it in my fruit smoothies. I eat it on all of my pizza. Good stuff. It makes me feel like I'm a relatively healthy person, and I guarantee that my sister gets deliriously happy every time I eat it.

So today, this totally cute guy at the rescue mission thrift store said "Hello" to me, then said, "You're a regular. I've seen you before...Do you mind my asking your name?"

"Uh [what is happening?]. Megan."

That was pretty much the end of the conversation, but I definitely was impressed that he just came out and asked. I'm a sucker for men who speak to me. It's become more difficult lately. The whole masters degree thing doesn't exactly work in my favor. I'm tall, always thinking and using big words, and now I have an advanced degree. I'm stuck between men too intimidated to believe they could be with me, and men too narcissistic to make me happy.

Oh dear. Maybe I'll marry spinach.

Sexual Zeitgeist

When a prostitute can comment on the sexual zeitgeist of an age, you know you have to listen. And since I've read this editorial/commentary/opinion piece, I've thought to myself, "I wonder if it was always thus? Have sex workers always had their fingers on the pulse of the sexual heartbeat of the nation and/or culture?" I think this might be entirely possible.

I feel lonely sometimes, though I am rarely lonely in its truest sense. I am not hungry for human affection, or love. I'm not even hungry for canine love or affection. But there is something deep inside of me that longs for touch that can only truly come in the form of a significant other, a romantic partner, not because sex is the be-all, end-all, but because that's what it's there for. It exists as an outlet for true and honest intimacy. We pervert it all the time, but at its essence, that's what it is.

So I strive towards that end. I search to express my sexuality in ways that are honest, and true to who I am as a person. I try to be honest with my words, with my tone, my body language, and my physical appearance. I may fail in any and all ways at one or more times, but I keep trying. I want connection, but I only want honest connection from someone that wants to connect with me. I don't want false intimacy. I've had enough of that for a lifetime.