Day 17: Memory is a Way of Holding on To The Things You Love

Oct 6, 2010

The problem with this is that it’s kind of goes hand and hand with, Day 8: A moment, in great detail and let’s face it repeating myself isn’t really fun. So I suppose I will go with my second favorite memory since we’ve already visited my first: the day Robby proposed.

Ironically enough this isn’t some grand story. In fact compared to most engagement stories, it’s actually kind of unromantic, but at the time it meant the world to me. Robby and his family were going through a rough patch. His mom just had emergency surgery and was a little loopy and his aunt thought she was helping, but instead only said some really, really cruel hurtful things.

She sent his sister an e-mail basically saying I was useless and that I had brought another freeloader into the house and that we both needed to go. I was shocked, hurt, and just completely blown away and I broke down in tears. I never wanted his family to think of me that way, most especially his immediate family and the words I admit wounded me deeply and pissed Robby off.

I had busted my ass to make sure his mom’s house was sparkling because I realized she was doing me a favor by letting me stay there rent free. I appreciated it and it was a huge hit to my pride to not be able to compensate her monetarily so I did what I knew how to do, I cleaned and cooked and helped in what every manner she needed. Having her aunt send that e-mail to his sister made me realize that it wasn’t enough and it devastated me.

I’m not sure what it was for him but while I was sitting there crying in his arms and wailing like a child, I guess something in him clicked because the next thing I know he’s asking me to marry him and I’m choking and gasping on my tears. To this day I joke that was his attempt to get me to shut the fuck up. In any event, I obviously said yes and the fact that he asked me in that moment when things were completely messed up, only proved to me that he was going to love me regardless of the bad. He was in it for the long haul.

So while it may not have been the most romantic proposal, it was still one that touched me to the very core of my soul and still does.

Day 8: The Most Important Thing in Life is to Learn How to Give Out Love and to Let it Come In

Sep 27, 2010

I don’t believe I’ve ever really talked about when Robby and I exchanged “I love yous”. I know I have on Ecstasy, but the moment has never been captured on my public blog. The moment of course is on an old Livejournal account; one that I look at and realize how much I have changed. How much the cynicism that once encircled me has faded and has instead been replaced by the love I have from a man, who while I may not deserve it, still loves me nonetheless. My moment is the moment that we said I love you, it was the day when I truly changed.

Before I begin I will preface that we were in Hawaii at the time on a short getaway to spend some time together. The following occurred as we had climbed into bed for the night and were trying to get some sleep:

Robby: “What’s wrong?”
Me: “Nothing.”
Robby: “Liar. What’s wrong?”

…. silence …..

Me: “I hate you.”
Robby: “Why?”
Me: “Because you make it hard not to fall for you.”
Robby: “What? [smiles] I don’t see how. I’m an ass.”
Me: “That’s the impression you give to other people, but I know better. You have your sweet side and I’m not the only one who sees that.”
Robby: “Who else?”
Me: “Amerlyn. You annoy her most of the time because you’re an ass, but she also knows that you can be sweet. Which is why when it comes down to it, she said if she had to pick someone for me, she’d pick you over Emilio.”
Robby: “So what’s wrong?”
Me: “….”
Robby: “You’re confused. I read your thing. You left it open.”
Me: “Which one?”
Robby: “There are multiple?”
Me: “Yes. Which one?”
Robby: “I don’t know, you left it open on your computer one day and I read it. It was the one that said you’re confused.”
Me: “Okay, that doesn’t help. Which one?”
Robby: “You mean to tell me, you wrote you were confused in more then one?”
Me: “Yes, which one?”
Robby: “The one that said you didn’t want to give in.”
Me: “Oh, probably livejournal then.”

…. silence ….
(more…)

Day 5: Love is the Condition In Which The Happiness Of Another Person is Essential to Your Own

Sep 24, 2010

If you asked anyone- even me- I would say I should be the last person anyone should defer to for the definition of love. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not screwed up, because honestly I am. I’m probably one of the most screwed up people you were ever met, especially when it comes to the concept of love; though I suppose anyone with the childhood I had wouldn’t be expected to really know what love is, much let define what it means to them.

For a long time I didn’t think I had the capacity to allow anyone to love me. I was too damaged, too bruised to ever put anyone through that short of mental heartache- hell through that physical and emotional heartache- and yet I did allow my first love to enter my heart, my world, but never fully because I knew deep down he would never been able to love me if he knew who I really was.

Come to find out down the line that was true– but I digress.

Love to me is not something that you can define with words. You can try, but it’s not something anyone can ever get right. Instead, what we seek to do is define what we need from another to consider their love as worthy. So rather than define something I don’t think anyone is capable of defining, I’ll instead define what it is I need from another to allow them to love me.

First and foremost, I need understanding. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m crazy and despite the fact that I like to say that girls are crazy because they are, I think I’m the dangerous type of crazy. Why do I say that? Because I can think like a guy. I know what hurts. I know where to poke and where to prod to really make it hurt, to really drive that stake home. While it’s not something I ever use, it is something that I am capable of so for someone to love me, they need to understand.

Next, I need someone who understands I am a free spirit. When I say free spirit, I mean that I will not allow anyone to tell me what to do or how to live my life. While I will have enough respect to consider another’s feelings and thoughts when I am in a relationship, I will not allow anyone to tell me how I should live my life. If you can’t do that, if you can’t understand that I’m eccentric and kind of cooky, then you can’t love me because you wouldn’t be loving me for who I am, rather what you can mold me into.

Last and most importantly, I need someone who has the capacity to forgive. I make mistakes- hell we all do- but my mistakes can be worse than most. I have a tendency to self destruct. When things get too good or too happy, my fail safe is to fuck shit up because fucked up is all I have ever known. If the first thing you’re going to do is push me away because of this tendency, then I won’t let you love me because you’ll just be another person who walked away when I needed you most.

My husband is all of these things and more. He is the first person in my life who I could lean on and know that he would never let me fall. He is the first person who held on even though I was kicking and screaming, begging him to let me go. He is the first person who looked at me and said, “I love you. Not for who I want you to be, but for who you are.”

I am fortunate that I was able to find someone who could learn my deepest, darkest secrets, see the darkness within my soul and not think any less of me for it. In all my life, I have never been lucky– that is of course until I met him.

There’s No Place Like Home

Sep 9, 2010

You know it’s kind of funny how much I miss Robby when we’re apart. I always feel kind of silly because I’m not really the clingy type, but I can’t seem to help it. I mean I do have fun when I’m out and about and away from him, but he’s still always there in the back of my mind.

It’s been an amazing few days out here but I won’t lie and day that I won’t be glad to be home and back in his arms.  He can drive me crazy sometimes and sometimes I want to throttle him but at the end of the day, I love him and he’s home.

Somehow When I’m With You, I Never Get Burned

Aug 23, 2010

If I’m truly honest with myself, which I admit I have the tendency not to be– I’m depressed. I’m not unhappy with my life per say, but I guess finding out that there are more than two couples in our lives, one of which’s wedding we attended a few months before ours, are going through a divorce is a downer. It hits me hard. Harder than I thought possible, but I guess it’s like a constant reminder of what I almost lost. What we almost lost.

I’m trying not to let it affect me. Trying to barrel through and let it roll off me, but it’s not easy. For most who know me they know that I’m not gun hoe about marriage and never was (thank you mom and dad). In fact I wasn’t the one who wanted to get married or even broached the subject of marriage first; Robby was. And I’m not saying I regret it or that I didn’t want it because I don’t and I definitely did (otherwise I wouldn’t have said I do) but seeing the people in my life who’s weddings I went to or people close to me decide it’s just not working; well a piece of me breaks because honestly that could be us or anyone for that matter. Nothing is promised, as much as we’d like to think otherwise, but I’m not naive.

I know I shouldn’t be afraid, that I should not have doubts or be fearful that we may end up on that same windy path, but I can’t help it. It’s just one of those things that you can’t help let affect you, because it tends to make you realize that even the ones you thought would last forever are often the ones who don’t.

All in all it’s been a very emotional month, especially for an empath who tends to feel more even when those actually involved, don’t feel anything. My heart aches for what was loss but I of all people know that staying in a relationship that you’re unhappy with isn’t right and isn’t fair to the other party. I just hope that whatever happens to be in the water for the month of August skips us, because while I’m quite certain we won’t be walking down that path yet and if I have my way, never, there’s always going to be that what if and that’s what scares me most.

A Simple Thank You Goes A Long Way

Jul 21, 2010

One of the biggest relationship killers (well at least in my opinion¹) is often taking your significant other for granted. The little things done out of love are expected and overlooked which often results in resentment.

For the most part, while I wouldn’t say I resent Robby, he is hurting me with his attitude of late. When he makes dinner every night I make a point to say thank you because I realize he doesn’t have to and he does it because he enjoys it and loves me. Now I will openly admit that I didn’t always use to thank him for his actions, but after a few tiffs here and there and his continual mention of feeling unappreciated for making dinner, I made more of an effort to recognize what he does.

I can’t say the same for him when it comes to me and it hurts. A LOT.

Yesterday when he came home and saw that the leftovers from last night had not been put away, he started slamming drawers and cabinets which only lead to my anger and frustration so I told him to just forget it and not worry about making dinner. He stormed off in a huff saying, “FINE!” and went upstairs.

After I calmed down, I went upstairs to talk to him and told him that he acts more like a girl then I do because instead of just telling me what’s wrong he starts slamming shit which only serves to piss me off. So he says to me, “I asked you to put the food away last night.” and I said, “Um, I didn’t hear you say that.” and he follows by saying, “Well, I said that and you all got up and so I assumed you had heard me.” I laughed and said, “We all got up to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen because you had cooked dinner.”

Finally we were able to resolve that little issue, but then he and I got into it again later and to be honest I’m not even sure what it was about, but his negative attitude and lack of appreciation for what does get done finally took its toll and I broke down crying last night while he slept. I just feel like what I do it’s never good enough. I can do one thing but it doesn’t matter because that didn’t get done so it negates any of the effort that I put in.

I’m just tired and hurt and fed up of feeling like it’s never enough, more specifically I’m never enough. A thank you goes a long way and I don’t think that it’s too much to ask—but maybe I’m wrong?

1. Cause we know mine’s the only one that counts.