Friday, March 14, 2008

thought of the week: march 2nd-8th (late entry)

and all along, i should've known this wasn't your dream, it was mine, i know you wanted me to give up this life to be, everything i was back when you had the hands my heart was in

yellowcard, firewater, punk goes acoustic

this really will circle around, but it's going to take a bit to get there. last wednesday my mom played hooky from work & the two of us went to the barnes & noble in maplewood, bought some books & hung out in the starbuck's there sipping coffee & chatting. first off i'd like to say my mom & i had a really nice heart-to-heart. she's still not on board with me having gotten gastric bypass, but she will eventually get over it. while we were sitting there i asked her if she had heard about what dad did after TSSOB* & i had broken up. she had no clue what i was talking about so i told her what i had just found out in february when my dad helped me move into my new place.

for whatever reason my dad started telling my cousin all about the fiasco that was that relationship. & i'll be honest i was barely paying attention just because sometimes my family, while seeming to be well meaning will bring up my past mistakes in a way that reminds me of rubbing a puppy's nose in his misplaced piddle. so i was pretty much ignoring him, only half listening when he said something that was news to me.

my dad then says that after i had broken up with TSSOB he kept calling my parents' house asking for me & by some incredible stroke of fate he kept getting my dad. & my dad basically ran interference on my behalf. he told the guy i was at school, at work, out with friends, out on a date, just whatever he felt like saying. & then my dad goes on to say that at one point TSSOB breaks down & starts crying while on the phone with my dad, saying that he made a huge mistake by letting me go & that he loved me & that he needed me back in his life. my dad told him to get over me because i'd gotten over him. according to my dad this went on for months. in this time i had seen TSSOB's phone number come up on my cell phone, but i never answered when i saw him calling because i didn't want to deal with him.

by the time i finally answered one of his calls it was august of 2004, almost a year since my nephew died, almost a year since those silent days in connecticut with my sister, almost a year since i broke up with TSSOB, & almost a year since i had taken my life back. i was in california leaving an office max after picking up some supplies for my poetry book to give away at burning man driving my rental car, a silver ford focus. & i answered the phone annoyed that he was intruding on my california oasis. annoyed that he still hadn't mailed my stuff back to me (of course, now it makes sense why he didn't). & just generally annoyed at his sudden appearance into my life. & i let him know it. i don't recall much of what i said, but i do remember it was the verbal version of a bitch slap.

if i would have found out that my dad had been lying to this guy & basically being my goalie for close to a year any earlier i'm honestly not sure how i would've reacted. but by now i've gotten enough time & distance that i see it as so sweet that he continually did that for me & never once told anyone in my family about it. sometimes it's nice being a daddy's girl.

as for the boy. it was mismatched from the beginning but neither of us had the experience to be able to tell it any sooner. as much as i'd try to tell myself i'd be fine with small town life in the south i really wouldn't have been. i would have been miserable. & while he thought i was what he wanted, i really wasn't. now that i'm being honest & true with myself i am probably opposite of what he would have wanted. i'm a city girl. i love my tattoos, my piercings, the look of downtown st.paul lit up for the holidays, the convenience of living in the city, & the pulse that the city has that is lacking in small town america. or, lacking for me at least. we both really did want the other to be what we thought they were, or pretended to be, but not the truth.

in the end, what woke us both up was my writing. he told me to give it up & i realized it was the one thing that i never could give up. & i'm so thankful that i have my writing in my life. maybe i'm not always as productive with it as i'd like, & maybe i write a lot of tripe, but it's my tripe, it's my lifeline. & it's the essence of who i am.

now the million dollar question: do i miss the boy? not in the slightest. i write about this with a studied indifference. i've had the time & distance & healing i need to keep me from any strong emotions at all where he is concerned. i will say if he suddenly popped into my life again i would have some strong emotions & strong words for him & possibly even a well aimed punch, but that's only because i've permanently closed that chapter of my life & never want it reopened again.

*the southern son of a bitch

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