Let me preface this entry by saying that I haven’t seen my favorite guy in a week, and I’ve managed to question everything. Because, that’s what I do. And to say I’m frustrated is a bit of an understatement at this point, not with him but with my inability to just BE already.
So right now, I am dog-sitting this lovable pup. She barks a lot, although not as much as most dogs, and she drives the cat crazy. Which drives my mom crazy. And when Princess is crazy, I’M crazy.
I got invitations for New Year’s Eve and Day, which was awesome. (Not from the guy … you see why I’ve gone all paranoid, yes?) But I always have to build in time for Princess, so I will probably say no to something.
Of course, I got the guilt trip that “We need to go out Friday night because you have plans the rest of the weekend, and I don’t get out of the house unless you take me, and you’re always busy and you don’t ever have any time to look at me, and if I lose out on Friday I will be stuck in the house for a whole ‘nother week WITHOUT ANY FOOD.”
Hand to God on everything I ever say that comes out of her mouth!
So I thought my friend was picking up the dog today. But we’ll have another day together as far as I know. Which drives my mom crazier still, how WE DON’T PLAN SHIT.
You know what … friends help each other. This friend is off having a wonderful adventure. And I know she would be the very first one to come look in on my mom when I get a hot date who whisks me out of town.
So, the problem is WHAT exactly here?
I know mom is sick, and some days are worse than others. Today is a “worse” day. I don’t begrudge her being sick. What I do begrudge is coming home to this barrel of sunshine who’s resentful toward me because of ALL I PUT HER THROUGH.
You know, the dog (or any pet I’ve ever brought in here because I happen to like having the extra critters in the house) DIDN’T MOVE IN HERE FIVE YEARS AGO AND STAY RENT-FUCKING-FREE EVER SINCE.
Just sayin’.
So, I love my apartment and we know I have to give it up soon. It kills me … five years ago I had the cutest apartment in Maryland that I had JUST MOVED INTO. Then I inherited mom and had to take a way-less-cute place so I could accommodate her.
And it feels like history repeating, you know? To keep affording this home life that brings me so little joy anymore, I have to give up my private beach and my Intracoastal Waterway DIRECTLY UNDER MY BALCONY so I can support us better.
It’s necessary, but it’s heartbreaking all over again. I know a couple of guys who have downgraded to cheaper places recently so they can save up for retirement, for an engagement ring, for a life with someone special.
Now THAT’S a reason to move. Not … this.
But I need to find my grace and suck it up. Even though I know she’s going to BITCH AND MOAN the whole time that I am inconveniencing her and taking her out of her comfort zone.
Speaking of where I came from, I’m feeling hella homesick lately. For Virginia, mostly, and the people I knew there. Mostly for the life I should have built while I was there … before the workaholism set in and I destroyed through neglect every friendship, relationship and anything that could have been a potential SOMETHING.
I had lunch with a gal at work yesterday. She’s a couple of years older than me and was asking my experience with dating sites. I said I always get lots of replies but I never write back to them. Usually they figure they won’t get a response so they don’t bother being clever, and I don’t care to talk to someone who doesn’t take the time to BE clever.
And besides, after the rejection I’ve faced over coming with my own personalized baggage named Mom — or, hell, maybe I was the one who pushed them away first — I don’t really put myself out there anymore. And I haven’t in a very long time.
Which is why it’s easy to be coy and cautious with the new guy. I FORGET HOW TO DO THIS, PEOPLE!!!
She said, well, don’t you want the happily ever after? I said I would be happy with some good dates that lead to a functional relationship. I can’t even think about the kids and the ring and the what-the-fuck-ever that she was alluding to.
It’s sad how many dates and dreams and outings and such that I’ve felt compelled to give up. Not that I was ever really swimming with them in the first place.
And not that she’d WANT me to give up a chance for love and happiness — she’s not like that at all. But … the fact that she “reserves” me — which I HATE — pretty much reminds me that I will pay for it one way or another if I dare to do something else. And don’t even THINK I do anything by myself. That, she just finds insulting.
God, I hate myself for complaining so much. My date Sam Adams is loosening up my tongue (er, typing fingers) a little more than I anticipated. 😉
Oh well, I keep praying for success at work. And when my friend re-enters the picture (and he will. I am NOT letting go of the one thing that has made me so happy these last three weeks), I have a lot to look forward to.
And somehow, it will make everything else OK, like nothing else has or ever could. …
