sadness


Before I start the update, I have a story.  I busted my ass yesterday on backwards crossovers.  Again!  I hadn’t fallen in around three months, so I figure I was due.  It was the same thing it always is – I brought my toe in too close to my heel, and the blades hit, and splat.  And these are dance blades.  There is no fucking tail on them, so I’m bringing everything in really close to be able to hit.  Dude, it hurt so fucking much.  I think I hit bone.  So yeah, my ass still hurts today and I’m sitting and walking funny.  I’m gimpy.  Miss Emily was cracking up.  I’m not sure why it amuses all the coaches so much when I fall.  My hope is that I usually look graceful or something, so when I fall it’s unexpected and laughable.  I’m sure that’s the opposite of true though.

Anyway, here’s the update.  We all went out on Saturday night for Man-Friend’s good-bye party.  I had a horrible stomachache beforehand, but was fine once we got going.  We went to a country bar to see this guy play that J likes.  He was good.  I realized that I had seen them once before with these guys, but it was before M-F and I got together.  We hung out with everyone for a while, and then went off on our own so we could just sit and be together.  It was nice.

Later, our Russian friend, S, told me, “You know he likes you, right?”  I was like, yeah, I know.  Then he goes, “You know he more than likes you, yeah?”  So I dragged S off to get more information which really just consisted of me telling him that I more than like M-F as well.  He was telling me that M-F is a great guy and all that, but I already know that too.  So we went back over to everyone else and S tells M-F that he thinks we should just get married already and start having puppies.  Oh my God.

The last song the band played was a slow one, and we danced.  Neither of us normally dances seeing as how we’ve always been choreographed for (my background is actually ballet), but we did it.  I’m telling you, it was the single most romantic thing I’ve ever done in my life.  I was completely melty.  It was all those things you hear, like it felt like we were the only two people there even though we were periodically jostled and all that stuff.  I’m not at all a romantic person, but I was oozy mush.

We ended up staying at J and L’s since they live a lot closer to M-F than I do.  We didn’t get much sleep for a few reasons that I won’t get into since I’m not tacky that way, ha, but key among them was that I had to have him home by 6:30 at the latest since his dad wanted to hit the road.  It was so hard to drop him off.  I was like, “Fuck this shit, I’m kidnapping you.”  He said they’d know where to find him anyway.  I was kind of glad his dad wasn’t out there because my hair was a disaster.

Driving home was awful.  I was crying and my hair was all crazy, so I had to look freshly released from the nuthouse.  I went back to bed when I got home.  Around the time I woke up, he woke up from sleeping in the car and we texted the rest of the day.  Then we talked on the phone that night.  That seems to be our routine now.  It’s a good thing I switched to unlimited texting!

Monday in stroking class, J and I did nothing but talk about M-F.  Seriously nothing.  It was bad.  We’re so sad though!  M-F said it sounded like a wake.  It felt like one too.  But J told me something interesting.  He goes, “Did he tell you he told his parents about you?”  No!!!  No, he did not tell me that!  Apparently his dad didn’t say much about it, but he’s generally quiet anyway.  His mom was excited though.  Hee!  He still hasn’t told me that though.  He’s so funny about that stuff. 

I think we’ve thoroughly hashed out M-F’s inability to express his feelings unless super-drunk, but he did tell me before he left that he does like me and that he would miss me.  Today I got a text that said, “I miss u”.  So sweet!  It means a lot to me for him to say it because he won’t say stuff like that very often.  So when he does, I think he really means it – it’s not auto-pilot.  I miss him too.  I have at least one crying jag a day, to which he says that I don’t need to be sad because I’ll see him again in less than three weeks.  It needs to go by much much much faster because this sucks ass. 

So for now, I’m trying not to eat my way through this.  I still have accomplished nothing around here, and in fact, my house is far dirtier than I’ve ever seen it.  The dog ate a hockey puck the other day, and there’s little bits of vulcanized rubber all over the place.  My OCD ass does not care at the moment.  I’m coachless this week other than for classes, so I’ve been a bit lazy with the skating as well.  I start with the new coaches on Monday, and I won’t be able to miss any days during the week because I now have either coaching or classes scheduled for everyday.  That should help!  Hopefully I won’t bust my ass again before I go to New Mexico. 

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Well, fuck me, but I am a stoopid woman.  This is going to be hard to explain, but for those willing to do the math, Man-Friend and another person I blog about are the same person.  I can’t be more specific than that, and I can’t say it outloud because he could lose his job over it.  I think it’ll be evident who it is in a second, but anyway, without the information that they’re the same person, this story will make no sense.

Okay, so Man-Friend was over last night.  He brought over Army of 2 and played it on X-Box Live with this other guy that he plays with a lot.  Sounds like fun for me, right?  Actually it was because they’re just so damn funny with the stuff they say and do, so I was thoroughly entertained.  Afterwards, we made a Taco Bell run (I cannot believe I ate Taco Bell at midnight, but it turned out okay when I weighed this morning) and watched a little tv before going to bed.

This morning, we did our thing and then we were talking.  Somehow, and God help me, I can’t for the life of me remember how it happened, we got on the subject of feelings.  Oops.  See, the thing is, we weren’t supposed to have those.  Remember when I first brought Man-Friend onto my blog?  I wasn’t sure what to call him since he was only going to be kind of a fuck buddy (hey, first clue that I am dumb!).  Man-Friend was suggested and I took it because it sounds so much nicer.  The point is, I’m a girl, and I ended up with feelings.  Dumbass.  It’s not like I wasn’t warned.  My sister, Anjelica, and even M-F himself warned me.  We talked about it the night we discussed our Pros and Cons lists – one of his cons was he was worried that I might get “crazy attached”.  That sounds so fucking arrogant, but I guess if you’re not looking to get attached, you might worry about the other person attaching.

Wait, I just remembered how it happened.  He keeps telling me I could do better and that I’m slumming with him and all that kind of shit.  Or that I could meet a doctor and end up with him and all sorts of crap like that.  I keep saying nah.  Finally I was like, “Look, you keep trying to give me outs, and so we’re going to play a math game and see if you can figure out what this adds up to.  I don’t want this imaginary doctor.  I don’t think I’m slumming.  I don’t think I’ll get bored with you (this is another one he says).  What do you think all that means?”  Duh.  I still had to spell it out as in, “I did the thing I wasn’t supposed to do.  I got attached.  I like you, not fake doctor guy.”  Well, duh on me, he already knew that.

So then we got on the topic of him.  He said, regarding himself and anything relationshippy, “I’m an ass.  I told you I’m an ass.”  Oh, he also said he was sorry.  I told him, “I just don’t understand how you can be the way you are with me (meaning all cuddly and hand-holdy and having fun and texting me all the time and all that shit) and then not be at all attached.  How do you do that?”  He refused to answer, saying that it would only dig his grave deeper.  Then later he said that he never said that he wasn’t attached.  So what the fuck do I do with that?  You’re either attached or not, and I personally think that if you are and the other person is too, you might have something to work with.  Maybe that’s just me though???

And here’s where we get to the merging of M-F and this other person.  On Monday, he had asked me if he made me happy, and I said yes, except for the leaving part since he leaves town to move back home in ten days.  I can hear the lightbulbs snapping on right now.  I asked him if I made him happy, and he said yes, except for the part where I don’t cook, heh.  So this morning, I asked him why he asked me that question.  He didn’t want to answer at first, but he finally did, saying, “I wanted to see if I was more to you than another notch in your bedpost.  And for the record, you’re more than a notch to me.”  That sounds all well and good, but then we got on the subject of his feelings.  I was like, “I’m more than a notch, and you admit to being at least a little attached.  So why can’t you admit that you might just like me a little teeny tiny bit?”  And he proceeded to cover his face with pillows.  Fucking ridiculous.  Then he said he was emotionally repressed and that he would understand if I didn’t want him to come over anymore.  Oh yeah, and earlier he had said that his plan was to make me hate him before he left so that it wouldn’t be so hard on me.  Apparently, everyone who knows about us keeps telling him how hard it’s going to be on me when he leaves.  Duh, of course it’s going to suck!  Pissing me off isn’t going to make it hurt less – it’s just going to piss me off.  I didn’t say anything at first to the whole “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to come over anymore” comment because at that point, I was so upset that I felt like I needed to think about it.

So I thought for about five minutes while he convinced me I needed to hurry up and get ready to go skate.  And here’s what my fuck-tard self came up with:  He’s not telling me anything I didn’t already know or that I wasn’t warned about.  It’s just outloud, that’s the only difference.  So I walked over to him and gave him a hug and told him it was okay, and that I still wanted him to come over.  And he said NOTHING.  *screaming inside!!!*  So I go, “Does that mean ‘no’?” And he said, “I didn’t say that.”  Exactly, but you didn’t say anything at all.  What the fuck?  So then he took my hand and we went downstairs so he could get his game and hard-drive, and then I walked him out.  He gave me a kiss and a hug.

So yeah, I’m fucking confused.  I know that he, on some level, cares about me.  I know that he is, to some degree, attached.  I know that he can’t say it.  I don’t know what to do.  Oh also, he normally texts me a lot on nights that he’s not here, and I haven’t heard a word.  I’m afraid to text him and get ignored or worse, so my phone is off limits at the moment.  The thing is, I always knew how this would end up when I found out he was moving.  He was never going to do a long-distance thing with me.  It’s just not practical, and I’m not sure I would want to do that either.  But what the shit is this?  Damn it, I hate this.  I hate not knowing what I should do.  I hate not hearing from him (dude, you’d think the least he could do is text “R u ok?” – he does that after a bad day on the ice, and this morning was way worse than that!).  I hate not knowing what he’s really thinking.  He has just confused the utter fuck out of me.

Now, on the more hopeful side of me, I know people get hurt like this all the time, and I know we recover.  I’m 38 years old and have yet to have a successful relationship, but some part of me is willing to keep trying.  I wish this one would give me a chance, but if not, I’m not going to drop out of love-life stuff.  It might take me a while because I really like him.  God, the real suck of it all is that he’d get along so well with my family.  FUCK!!!  And now I need to cry again.  Shit shit shit.

Okay, I’m fine now.  I hope this post made some sort of sense (and if not, welcome to my world!).  I’m super-confused and upset, so I know I got stuff out of order and whatnot.  I just hope it’s readable.  

UPDATE:  I know y’all are waiting with baited breath for updates on all this bullshit, but twenty minutes after I posted this, he started texting me.  What to do, what to do?

So remember the girl who hates guns and freaks out about them and was like all militant about not having them in the house, etc etc?  Yeah, well, I’m going to learn how to shoot on Tuesday.  D is going to teach me.  He’s a gun-toting maniac.  I don’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before, but he has quite the arsenal including an AK-47.  That’s the one that impresses me the most.  If I were a dude, I’d get a woody anytime someone said AK-47.  His favorite is his 1911.  I’m going to rent a girlie-fied 9mm.  That’s because I have skinny little arms and he doesn’t want me to have recoil freak-out.  He had considered having me use the 1911, but it’s got a little kick that he thinks may be too much for me.  Obviously we’re going to have a safety lesson and all that before I actually shoot anything, and hopefully that shooting will be limited to the targets.  God help that man if I shoot off my own freaking toes.

While we’re talking about D, I should go into why the little fucker is moving back to New Mexico.  One reason is that his mom is really quite ill, and he wants to be with her.  It has something to do with her lungs.  I asked if anyone had thought about a transplant (which is clearly the answer to everything), but apparently there’s too much other stuff wrong with her for that to be an option.  Basically they’re just trying to find the right combination of drugs to prolong her life.  So I get that – I mean, I lived in Albuquerque when my mom was sick before her liver transplant, and I would’ve done anything to get back to Dallas to be with her.

The second reason is a career one.  The dance market here is pretty much cornered by three big coaches, and so he’s having a tough time getting students.  Plus he has like no freestyle background because he pretty much started out in dance.  He can do a waltz jump, but then again, so can I (uh, sort of).  So that’s not saying much.  What that all means is that he’s not comfortable teaching freestyle so his student pool is quite limited.  He could teach the shit out of some footwork though.  Freestylers are so god-awful sloppy!  In New Mexico, they have the dancers, but no coaches (well, they have one, but she’s like eleventy billion years old and teaches stuff that we don’t do anymore.  She sucks it).  So he’ll have all the business he can handle at two rinks.  I get that too – we all want to make money and have good careers, right?  Oh, he knows he’ll have students because he has them when he goes to visit.  He’ll go for like three weeks at a time and do nothing but teach.  Apparently they’re all jumping for joy that he would be permanent.  I’m so jealous of those bitches that are getting my coach.  Urgh!

So those are the why’s.  I still hate this.  I was so awful to him during lessons on Monday and Wednesday.  Seriously awful.  I called him names, I refused to do stuff he was telling me to do, and I stood there with my arms crossed in the middle of the ice and wouldn’t look at him.  Wow, I am so fucking mature and really very proud of those moments.  He told me yesterday that he very nearly kicked me off the ice.  He said any other self-respecting coach would have and that my attitude was horrible (though in his accent, that word is “haaarrible”.  Also he kept asking me if I really wanted my lesson, which turns out to have been a warning that he was about to kick me off.  Oops, I took that as “Oh, I’m on the right track to pissing him off!  Keep going!”  I kind of wanted to see how far I could push.  I think if I had called him one more name, he would’ve booted me.  Yeah, I’m a big brat.  P.S.  My attitude was better today and I was nice.  There was no name calling.  Karma got me for being an ass by having my trunk hit me in the head when I put my skate bag in yesterday.  It was really windy!

We were texting the other day about my future coaching situation, and I told him I was giving Phillip six months to make me okay with him.  He would have to take me through a test session as well for me to really know if it was going to work.  I freak out during tests and I panic and shake and all that good stuff.  D is able to get me through it (he has a sister who has a lot of my same issues, and I think he just treats me like he does her).  I need to know that Phillip could do the same.  He’d also have to let me have some fun in our lessons because if I’m not having fun, I’ll quit.  Anyway, out of nowhere, D says he’s not sure if it’ll work with Phillip because of all the extra driving I’d have to do.  I don’t get that – if I’m willing to make the 90 minute round trip drive to go with the coach that my current coach is most comfortable with, then what the hell is the problem?  So I texted back that it was either Phillip or I was going to start packing for NM, it was up to him.  He said we still had a lot to talk about with all this, but it was too much to get into over text.  I don’t talk on the phone unless I have to, so we still haven’t talked about it.  We need to soon though, because when D goes to NM the week after next to finalize the details, I want to work with the possible new coach.  So yeah, I kind of need to know who it’s going to be.

I just don’t know how this is going to work.  I cannot wrap my mind around a different coach.  My intention was to be all Brian Boitano about it and have the same coach forever.  D knows how to handle me, and believe me when I say that I’m difficult (see the bratty paragraph for proof).  I’m very OCD, and if I get stuck on something and want to do it over and over, he’ll let me until he starts seeing the freak-show coming on, and then he tells me “No more.  You’re not allowed to do that anymore today, we’re moving on.”  I need that.  I can’t see how it’ll work with someone else.  Who else is going to put up with my bullshit?  I got very lucky in finding the right coach for me on the first try, and now he’s leaving.  Damn it all to hell.

My coach is moving back to New Mexico.  I have cried all the tears I have (I think anyway), and moved to the anger phase today.  I yelled at my ex-husband for no reason other than he was a convenient target, and gosh, it felt good.  It felt guilty, yes, but good. 

I suppose if I were to look at the bright side here, I could say that I lost two pounds with all the crying.  That’s a lot of tears!

Man-Friend is coming over tonight.  We’re going to shoot stuff up on the XBox.  That should help.

While I was writing the mouse post, my mom called and told me my cousin Robbie passed away last night.  She’s the one who had the untreatable brain cancer I wrote about a few posts ago. 

My sister lost her baby to Trisomy 13.

I’m sitting here waiting for the furniture delivery people to get here with our nightstands and pub table set.  I’m not sure which I’m more excited about, but I bet it’ll depend on which room I’m in at the time.

Without meaning to, I keep finding myself watching the Anna Nicole Smith trial.  These people are all sick, and I must be equally so to watch this misappropriation of justice.  Bozo the Judge is a joke.  I don’t know where he went to law school, but I think it might have just been in his own head.  This case is supposed to be about who gets to bury Ms. Smith where, not about drugs or paternity.  Those subjects have absolutely no bearing on the question of who gets custody of her body.  It’s totally out of control.  Incidentally, the judge (Larry Seidlin) was reportedly in talks to get his own courthouse show.  Good Lord, he just swore in a man over the phone whom he has NEVER met in person!  Shepard Smith said, “We have just entered a parallel universe!”  Truer words have never been spoken.  Oh, the man is Daniel Smith’s father.  How sad.  This is the kind of thing that does absolutely nothing for my faith in humanity.

 Don’t get me wrong – in general, I am very impressed with people and the hard decisions they make and the tough rows they hoe.  I mostly think that people are good and want to do good and make the world a better place.  But then sometimes, I have one of those days where I’m pretty sure I’m the only person in the grocery store who has never been to jail or cheated on their taxes or had a warrant out for their arrest.  Those are not good days.  I hope someday I’m able to live up to my own expectations for the rest of the world.  Rich tries to do something every day to make himself a better version of himself.  I’m not so good at that – I fall into old patterns and I make the same mistakes over and over.  It’s hard to change!  I want to, and I think we should all expect more of ourselves.  Think how amazing this world would be if we all did that!

I hope that wasn’t soap-boxy.  Knowing all of my own flaws, I don’t think I’m in any position to tell anyone else how to live or what to do with their lives. 

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