Moving On...

GOD(---and I use that term lovingly and in conversation to the one being that needs not read my blog to hear me); life has been hard. I don't say that simply because my life has been difficult. It has. But, it's not really about that. It's more about being stuck...or not. It's more about the letting go of things. I don't really mean "things" like in hoarding of books, memorabilia, even shoes (I've gotten to a place that I can even let go of those)...I mean the real stuff, the stuff that we carry day in and day out. The hurt and the pain. The stuff that glues us to thinking we are worthless and undeserving. That's the part we need to let go of. It's the part that makes us hurt ourselves, others, and have panic attacks in the closet. It's the part that no one sees and yet is the most damaging.

Look, I'm not saying that I won't have an argument with my bf or old friend. I am saying however...if you damage me and I am unable to move on with you in my life. If that damage is too deep, too typical, too "insert word" for us to move on with each other...I am finally at a place where I can let go of you and where we were, where we might have went, and the pain that we caused each other.

I am letting go of arrogance. Some of it will stick. I know. Part of that is mine and so interwoven with my fabric...letting go would mean losing the real, inner, inner, inner parts of myself. And, that's not the goal. But, I am letting go of the part that makes me think that I can "fix" you, the part of me that thinks if I am your friend, lover, sister...somehow, I can plug that hole of emptiness for you. The part that deeply believes...I can carry the weight of the world. I cannot. So, I am moving on...carrying what I can, my luggage first. If I have room, and your stuff won't fall on me, suffocate me, drown me...I will help you. But, you have to ask...you have to want my help. I'm sorry that I have given what was neither desired nor requested.

Please don't take this as me leaving you or giving up on our friendship. But, if you haven't called, if I only know you are sick or struggling via Facebook, if you had a baby (and I called you) and I reached out, if we are not real...mutually real...I am letting go of you...maybe just for now...until it can be what it is meant to be.

Peace,
M

There's never enough time...

It hits me like a brick today....My son is 17 and graduating in May. Did you hear me? May.

First of all, I am far too young to have a kid graduating from High School. I have tattoos and get my hair colored. I read current events. I don't watch the weather channel. I keep up on music and watch awards shows. I AM NOT OLD ENOUGH FOR THIS.

But, it was seriously yesterday that he was speaking his first word. There are conflicting stories as to what it was. I swear it was "cookie". A certain grandmother vehemently swears it was "girl". I was barely twenty when he was born. Now, I'm nearing forty. Shit...I'm so old. I mean for real old...My twenty-year-old self wouldn't recognize me. "B" has grown up. He's lost teeth, learned many words (some I don't like him to say), grown about 1000 times his height, created, learned, stumbled, climbed...he's more of a man than my little boy. When I was 20...40 seemed so far away. But, now that I'm almost 40...20 seems like yesterday.

Today, I'm reading the details of college applications instead of Winnie the Pooh or Blue's Clues books. There isn't enough time. Today, I'm checking grades, curfew, his work schedule...instead of giggling and playing. There isn't time for that. Today, we go to orthodontists, counseling appointments, and the DMV...at 20 it was Happy Meals and play-dates...for both of us. Now, it's jobs (for both of us too) and school (x2)...there isn't enough time for books, movies, play dates, or Happy Meals.

I miss him already...soon he will be living his own life. But, tonight there is time to tell him I love him, I'm so very proud of him, and there is only the time we have right now...this moment.