What Now?

I'm not new to writing, nor blogging for that matter, so why am I staring at the box here with a blank expression on my face? Instead of the cat having got my tongue, it's twisting my fingers into knots.

I feel like I'm cheating on my friends. I have put myself out there for several years, just letting what I had to write, be examined by anyone's eyes. I don't feel like doing that anymore. Not like that. A gal has to have some mysteries. But this gal needs an outlet for hers. Sort of. Of course, I will still put myself out there (wherever 'there' is) but this is going to be my outlet to say things I need to say for me.

Things I secretly do...... I read a few stranger's blogs on a regular basis. I have been doing this for years. I love to peer into someone else's life & wonder who they really are behind the anonymity of their internet writing.

Sometimes, I break my own rules then beat the living shit out of myself afterwards though no one but me knows I did that. I have double standards. Who doesn't? But do any of us really & truly want to admit to it? Well, sometimes I do but only when it's funny. But never when I am serious. Oh God never. That would make me vulnerable (gulp) & I want to be in control of how much vulnerability that I throw out there.

And I've been feeling more vulnerable than ever lately. It's been an accumulation of events coming to a stark end, the need to move on about those events & feeling more like who I was born, instead of the adult I transcended into being. At this point in my life.

See, I am guarded. Gulp. I can admit that out loud now just not to anyone but myself. I want to be needed. I want to need. I want to love. I want to be loved but I keep so so so many people at arm's length. Sometimes so arm's length away that you can throw a 92 yard pass & get a touchdown before getting to me in the end zone. Ha!

I suspect I have done this since a child & it was probably caused by my parents & how they have treated me but come on. What kind of a pathetic excuse is that when you're a 40-year old woman who pays taxes, can take care of herself & can give Woody Allen a run for his money on therapy sessions?

I'm the oldest of two daughters. I should have been revered not just for being the first, but moreso because I was the first for 6 years before my sister came along. Honestly, I remember a very sad childhood. Not something I really wish to lament over since my 57 years of therapy has covered it but I needed to bring it up as it is probably the core of why I keep people at arm's length.

Even trying to type about it, I stop myself. Even in my head it sounds whiney. Woe is me. So I had a sad childhood. So I grew up in a house of no hugs & no "I love you" between parents & child? It's not like it can be changed. You cannot unring a bell. Yet, once again, it needed to be brought up as it is also part of the core of why I keep people at arm's length.

Mostly men. No brainer, hey? Ohhhh angry loud mouth woman. There must have been some fucked up men behind that one. Ohhhh what a surprise in this world of anger we live in today. (Just chuckle. I'm making fun of myself with.)

I am vulnerable because like many, many, many other people, I once loved more, harder & stronger than the one who was suppose to have loved me in return, with as much gusto as I loved them. But they didn't. He's remarried with a child of his own. We had none. Good for him. I've had friends ask me if I was hurt by that fact? No. Seriously, good for him. I am glad that we didn't have children considering the circumstances.

Now, if they were to truly ask me to be honest about my pain it would be simple. He didn't love me enough. To have children with me & to fight for our marriage like I fought for it. And that's not the part that makes me vulnerable. What makes me vulnerable is what if I fuck up again & choose yet another man who doesn't know who he is & doesn't love me as much as I love him? Arm's length! Arm's length! Arm's length! Prove yourself before crossing the moat! Or I shall slay you with my fire searing tongue! Be gone with you!

Oh no. I do it all backwards when it comes to dating. I don't do the flirty things & come on to men. Hell no. Everyone knows men are suckers for that shit. I don't want a sucker. So I developed a really fucked up complicated system of smacking them around verbally first. I have kicked one in the shin & put him in a head lock. I figure 'here's my bitchiest side ever. Can ya handle it, Drummer Boy?'

Not only that but my God he's a fucking musician. I need another musician like I need another 50 extra pounds on my fat ass.

But he thinks my bitchiest side ever is FUNNY. The only problem is, he never noticed when I was serious & being a bitch because I MEANT it. Which infuriated me even more because how dare him think I am funny?!?!? And then how dare him not see when I am serious?!?!!

Every logical thing that I know about him, just does not impress me. I have been trying to find something about him to like. I wasn't always giving him my bitchiest ever. I like balance so I was honest a few times. Just not bluntly honest, which apparently you are suppose to be with men. Whatever.

I like that he is outgoing & charming. But. He's like that with everyone. With every woman. It's like a show & he's always on stage. Performing. Look at me, me, me, me, me. So I wanted to get to know the real him. The real man. I even said that to him, exactly like that. "What does it take to get to know the real man that you are? Help a gal out here." Nothing.

Seriously.

NOTHING.

I even slipped him my number once. I was coy. I even made a cute joke about it - that I give the best ear in town.

Again. Nothing.

So I surmised that rejection sucks & I must have misread what was going on between us, that in which was unspoken. Mind you, this is not a man that I have spent any quality time alone with. Ever. It's just some weird thing. A thing that has happened to me a few times before & out of that thing I ended up with a ...... you got it ..... boyfriend! And in one case, a husband.

But I suppose, back then those cases came out of my being NICE. Right now, in my life, being nice is not always an option. I have so much I am dealing with. I cannot be open to everyone & all nicey nice because I cannot afford to find myself in the fetal position after helping someone out & it cost me like a few of the times I was taken for granted. Right now, I really need me to be here for me. It's not something I can bargain with. Thank God I am finally getting that, at close to 40. Sigh.

I have a lousy temperament at times. I got pissed off at something he said to me last week & rightfully so. But instead of going home & cooling off about it, I deleted him from a site that we emailed on. A site that he has his settings set to only receive email from people who are his 'friends'. Which brings me to another frustration. Since when has adulthood turned us all into high schoolers again with this internet & email shit?!?!?! Uuugh. Ohhhh she deleted him as her 'friend' on a website. Gag me. Shoot me. SOOO fucked up. Yet, we do it. We're adults. What a great example we are setting for the younger generations. ha!

Well. He shocked me. He noticed that I was truly upset (though he laughed at the time because he always laughs at me when I am at my bitchiest.). He did what men don't usually do. He apologized & asked if it was something he said or did then actually admitted to being stupid.

Gasp.

Now I cannot even reply back to him because I am not his 'friend' on that site & though I sent him a 'friend request' he has yet to approve it because yes, he can be very stupid at times. $100 he hasn't even touched his 'friend request' area therefore never noticing I cannot write him back.

So who's the stupid one now?

Me.

Vulnerable. Mean. Bitchy. Loud Mouth. Me.

That's who.

And I have been fighting it for months. The 'it'. The 'thing' between us. Because I keep people at arm's length. In the beginning. Especially men. I feel like I have to. How in the hell am I suppose to know which ones are giving me attention for all of the right reasons versus the superficial? Well?

And with him. I don't know. For all I know, he's just being nice now because he is one of those people who can't handle it when someone doesn't LIKE them.

I can have friendships with no expectations that have ran smoothly & beautifully for decades. But shove a possible romantic relationship in my face & I make them jump through hoops. That were set on fire. And sit 15 feet in the air. A foot apart from one another.

I look at those men like I am the Spanish Inquisition. "What you got for me? Bring it." It's like I subconsciously challenge them to like me at my very, very worst to see if they have staying power & like me for all of the right reasons. "Show me what you've got that is different than any other man I have ever encountered! One. Two. Three. GO!"

I am my own chastity belt! ha!

I know why I do it. I do it because I'm protecting myself. The ex-husband didn't protect me from his family. I have a fear of meeting people's families now. I had a live-in boyfriend after the marriage ended. It's not like I didn't move on or try to fix my fucked-up quirks. But that guy ended up being a raging alcoholic who sent a picture of his dick to a woman in Greece who he claimed to love. Only to her. Because when I found out, it was all "Baby, how could I love someone I have never met & never will meet?" Well that asshole didn't realize that she had feelings. Her & I ended up friends after it all. Strangely enough, we had the same birthday.

I have a Zero Tolerance for cheating, I don't care which form of cheating they chose to do, so he was properly disposed of a week later.

I have dated for the past 3 years, since that shithead left, but nothing ever stuck. I need the Za Za Zoom. I need the spark. I need that intrinsic click between the two of us. I finally find it & what did I do? Put him in a headlock. Kick him in the shin. Ask him who the fuck does he think he is?!?!?! I have been utterly mean to him. Arm's fucking length.

I fight it. I have to. I don't feel one iota special to this guy. I have not seen one iota of interest from him that he wishes to know ME. So why does he care if he upset me? Threw me for a loop. Even writing it makes me feel 12 years old again. "Dear Diary, do you think Mike Smith likes me? He keeps stealing my Twinkies at lunch & pinching me."

Vulnerability. Sucks.

And here I am writing somewhere else, anonymously, in another tiny corner of the internet so I cannot be found. Because I am embarrassed. I am ashamed. I am too fucking scared to put myself out there THAT far.

Naked & raw hanging from a tree branch.

No thank you.

I am the little girl who lashes out when hurt. Then quietly slinks into her cave, to lick her wounds, then comes out a few months later looking fabulous & perfectly coiffed as if nothing ever happened.

I'm the Phoebe Buffet who's friends heads spin when she slips out & says things about her life that she's never shared with others. Some know. Other's don't. Because I am the girl that keeps others at arm's length.

It's not like I have a secret life, mind you. I just don't share a lot of who I am. I am very crafty with what sides I let loose & which ones I don't. It's not like I am that hard to get close to for a lot of people think I put them at ease & have known me forever.

Sadly, the softer sides of me appear to only be seen by those holding Platinum laminated V.I.P. passes. And right now, the only one holding that is ..... me.

I'll get through this. I will embrace my vulnerability. I will get this right. But for now...... I hurt. I am sad. I want to be loved. But just not by anybody. I miss the closeness of a physical relationship with a man but what if I am too critical to handle a healthy one? That scares me the most. What if I fuck it up? What if my stupidity fucks it up & hurts another human being? What if I fuck it up & accidentally chose a guy who is insensitive & hurts me?

You'd think at 40 we'd have it figured out by now.

But we don't.