Can i just say...

....it feels AMAZING to be gently kissed on the forehead during an embrace that happens just because.......

This is what it feels like? 

Not overbearing and all consuming - just fits perfectly into my life, wraps around it and keeps it warm and safe.  It's the coat in my winter, the cool breeze on a summer day.....compliments whats already there and makes it that much better because it is.

This is love?

It's about goddamned time. 

New Things

The alarm goes off and I quick sit up and turn it off hoping that it hasn't taken him out of a deep sleep.  I throw my legs over the side of the bed and begin to stretch so i'm not tempted to move over instead, and curl up next to him.  I'm starting to come awake, fully - good.  Stand up, look over at him - feel grateful that he comes to bed so quietly at night that I barely wake up - so nice to be considered, and taken care of in that way.  Our shifts are different, our sleep schedules have potential to be a problem without the proper regard for each other.  It's there, that regard.  And it's nice.

On my way to work in the morning I see two small dogs with wheeled carriages as their back legs being walked up the street either by a woman or a man.  I'm assuming they are a couple, the people.  That or there is an abundance of dogs without the use of their back legs...........  They a running with their little tongues out and ears flying backwards, kinda how i feel.   Wheels?  What wheels?  I'm just happy to be alive.

Then there's the old guy with the 70's porn mustache that drives his buick century with his arm hanging out the window and a cigarette hanging from his mouth.  I don't know how people do that, i never could.  I always ended up with smoke in my eyes or burn holes in my clothes - not something i have to worry about anymore.  Anyway, this man either thinks i'm a lot older, or he's a lot younger or it doesn't matter either way because we have the same morning routine apparently.  All this week i've had him as my road buddy and he knows it too.  I'm gonna have to leave a bit earlier in the morning.

THE HIGHWAY  da! da! dahhhhhh!  So crazy good when the lane is wide open and no one is in front of me OR behind me.  I'm one of those that actually gets out of the way when there is traffic wanting to go faster than I........I wish everyone did that, there would be no traffic jams.  It's not hard.  So, when i can just fly up the highway it's a pretty nice feeling - especially when i'm going um, slightly more than the speed limit (?!) and fly by state cop on the side of the road only to realize (after my heart starts slamming) that it's a decoy or he isn't speed trapping because THAT would have been an expensive ticket to pay..........That was my get out of jail free card today so i must keep in mind that i've already used it up.

Unpacking is still my second least favorite thing, the first being packing.  This experience is new in that I moved into a fully functioning home and have to somehow incorporate my "things" with his "things".  That's a delicate road to trod.  It's his house.  Has been for a long time - and now i'm trying to make it mine too.  With his invitation of course.  It has to be stressful to have someone with a shit ton of "stuff" move into your home and begin exploding all over the place - disrupting the space you've been living in for years.  Just as stressful doing the exploding and waiting for the "what the holy hell do you think you are doing?" to start.........which it hasn't.  He appears to roll with it.  So I continue to empty out the attic where i had the movers put all my things, one box at a time.  Ha!  multiple boxes all over the place at a time is more like it.  I sometimes think he is a saint.  But he's with me, so that isn't a possibility.

I enjoy sinners.  Handsome, loving, attention giving and receiving, communicative, demonstrative sinners........well, sinnER.  Annnnnnnd now i'm gonna stop gushing but i will say it's nice to be able to do so.

My only unhappiness at this point is my daughters anger and my sons apathy over my choice.  MY choice.  I had hoped there would be happiness for my happiness.  I had hoped there would be trust in my choice.  I understand concern, what i do not understand is being cut off because i'm living my own life without permission from anyone.  I'm not going to start.  I've lived 49 years and had several long term relationships, more than a little experience in the love department.  I've gone on many many dates over the past year and met all kinds of men ON PURPOSE not dating anyone I was immediately drawn to.  I avoided my type, determined to break my pattern of falling in love with jerks who find drugs and other women more important than me.    Jerks who underestimated my kindness as weakness, my silence as ignorance, my expressed concerns as bitchiness.

Those men come in all shapes, all sizes and from all walks of life.  They can be a journalist who cheats on his wife by pretending they aren't together, or a retired naval officer who is so fucked up in his head that he can't let go of a 6 month relationship that happened over a year ago.  OR he can be a perfectly normal looking man who is an IT professional telling me he is a Satanist but doesn't know who Anton LaVey is.....Or maybe he's just a guy who wants to get fucked and thought that my "wanting a relationship" was a cover for a one night stand?  He could be the guy that is dating multiple women, like i was dating multiple men, and decides he likes one better than the others including me.....that happens.  Its supposed to go like that.  Then there is the guy that is super nice but is a hot mess in his life so much that his problems are all that is discussed and the idea of him trying to kiss you makes you laugh in his mouth.......twice.  Even the much younger man  - so young to be so narrow minded and unbending- an old man in a young mans body.  There are all kinds of men that I kept an open mind about, "tried" to feel excited about........I went out a lot.  I went out with scary stalker man who thought he owned me after buying me a beer.

It's scary out there.  I am not ashamed to admit that I don't now, nor have I ever wanted to live my life alone.  I've BEEN alone in relationships for a long time because i thought I could make them love me.  Therapy has been incredibly enlightening and freeing.  Therapy has allowed me to love myself.  First.  Because if i can't trust myself, how can anyone else?  If i can't have faith in myself, how can i expect anyone else to?  I can be in a relationship and not lose myself........now.

It feels wonderful to stand on my own two feet and not feel like i need approval or help.  It also feels wonderful to know that I can give approval or help and receive it AND STILL be my own person.

Another one of those random rambling blogs that started out as something and turned into something else.........kinda like life.

Forgiveness Ring

I purchased a ring for myself.

This is what is engraved on it:

"If I have harmed anyone in any way either knowingly or unknowingly through my own confusions, I ask their forgiveness. If anyone has harmed me in any way either knowingly or unknowingly through their own confusions, I forgive them. And if there is a situation I am not yet ready to forgive, I forgive myself for that. For all the ways that I harm myself, negate, doubt, belittle myself, judge or be unkind to myself through my own confusions, I forgive myself."


I do.

So should you.

Love everyone

This weekend has been filled with dust, sweat, heat, work, laughter, "breaks", seriousness, shopping, laundry, and general "where do we start?" ..... It hit me in the middle of moving furniture and not even bothering to wipe the sweat pouring off me....i fucking love it all, and everybody.

I can't look at that smile, those blue eyes...and feel anything but...free. odd word to use right?  We have been working together on the hottest most humid day and at times literally just laying on the floor trying to cool off and not ONE cranky word or vibe has passed.  That's new. For me.

I'm not holding my breath, being pulled down with negativity or having to leave the area due to filthy looks being thrown my way. He is happy to consider and implement every damn thing I've suggested without an ounce of frustration or having to make me feel like I'm asking for the moon to shoot out his ass for my entertainment.

I'm not used to this.  I also know that frustration with each other is going to happen eventually because that's just how life goes.

He talks to me.  He lets me talk to him. He doesn't treat me like I've got nothing interesting to contribute. I'm not discounted.

I come first.

He hasn't said that. He shows me that by his every action and word.  He hasn't had to give up any of his freedom or manhood to make me know this is true.

And now I'm loving every thing about my life and everyone who is in it, or has been. Because I'm here now.  It's everything that has ever happened in my life that brought me here.  How can I NOT be grateful for everyone who has participated in helping me learn to see, and arrive?

This is how I've always meant to be treated. And it has nothing to do with money. Completely free when given willingly. And I get to return the feeling and have it not only accepted, but cherished.

For the first time in my life.

Make a choice

I'm moving in with Mike in less than a week.  Changing my address and my life, again.

Fast.  yes. Why?  Because i'm pregnant.

No, because I WANT to, because there is no reason NOT to (and i have dug deep to find just one reason).

Am i giving up a dream of owning my own home?  No.  I am moving in with the man i want to be with into his home, yes.  Is it possible that it won't work?  yes.  Anything is possible - I know that first hand.   I know how to move like a champ now. Does that scare me?  Hell no.

What scared me was wondering if I would ever want to share my life with someone again.  What scared me was wondering if a part of me had died out of disappointment and disillusionment .  What scared me was thinking i would never trust again, never feel that feeling of longing to be with that one man, and the happiness that fills me when I am.  What scared me was the idea of living alone with a bunch of animals actually seemed to be the smart thing to do in the name of self preservation.

What scared me was feeling like i would always be too scared.  Too hard.  Too dead inside.  THAT scared me.

Do i need a man?  No.  Obviously I don't.  Do i need one?  No.  They are more work than easy.  Do I want one?  No.  I want the right one.

And i found him.

So.  Wish me happiness and celebrate with me my ability to make a choice.  I know this is fast, I know it may seem reckless, but for fucks sake all my being careful in the past never made me any less vulnerable to pain, hurt and disappointment.   I've never been more sure.  Of myself, of him, of this choice that we have made together.

That's all that should matter.

Dreams of the future

Last night i had one of my dreams - where i know it's a dream, and i'm participating in it.

He was in it, and I wasn't mad, or sad, or even disturbed - just completely adamant that he not continue to pop up in my life anymore.  I got to say what i wanted, what was true to me if not him and finally to be set free from any kind of caring.  Hopefully he got the message.   I have no desire to be included in the list of ex girlfriends and safety net checks that get called on rotation.  I do not want pictures of what is going on in his life any more than i want to share what is going on in my life with him.  It's none of his business.   My happiness gets shared with my loved ones - and this blog.  A little.  He  is my past and i am looking toward my future.

I did domestic things this weekend.  Started to find my place in MM's home, soon to be my home as well.  From the moment i walked in the door I loved the feel of the house, reminded me of the home a co-worker put up for sale that i had wished i could buy.  He's given me free reign - seriously, how did I get so lucky?  The only drawback is the commute, which i found out is about the same as what I do now only all highway.

So..........It's time for another big change.  My resume is on the list of immediate to do's.  I love where i work, i love the PEOPLE i work with (most of em) and what i do isn't complicated and only stressful at times.  Thats not the norm.  I have a coosh office, and i don't have to wear shoes that hurt.  I have a ton of time off, and excellent insurance.  Why leave now when the retirement plan is probably the best i'll ever have?  Because i want to grow.  I want a challenge.  I want more money.  I deserve more money - and the union contract is coming up again and I know that we will lose more and gain nothing.  And frankly, fuck the union.  It's never going away so..........it's time for me to have a job title that actually fits what i do.  "Secretary".......yeah, okay.  Don't i wish.

While i'm excited and sure about the big changes coming up within the month, i'm also feeling sad. I'm going to miss where I live now.  When i left home the first time it wasn't off to college like most of my friends - It was me in October, barefoot with wet hair in a t-shirt and sweatpants banging on the apartment door to be let back in while my much younger sister stood crying at the window as my "mother" screamed at her to get away from it.  My future husband came and picked me up off my front steps and brought me to his family's home where they proceeded to try and help get my mother to take me back.  Which she would not.    She had torn apart my room and anything i cared about- i'm not sure what she tells herself about what she did that day, but i was 16 and kicked out.  I wrote letters, i called, and she told me she "wasn't ready" for me to be in her life.

And then she told everyone else i ran away.

I'm sure social services has records somewhere of what happened because at the time, it wasn't common for teens to be kicked out of the house, like it is now.  My brand new social worker took me back to the apartment to get my basic stuff while my mother stayed upstairs and did not allow my sister to come say goodbye to me.  The only way the social worker was allowed to get me in was when she threatened to have the police come and assist.  Once i had what was left of my stuff (she had either broken or taken most of it) no one knew what to do with me because i wasn't pregnant. Had i been, the state would have set me up in an apartment and a monthly check.  Because i had the audacity to NOT be pregnant, i was on my own.  So i stayed with my ex's family until we got married. From that point on my life was spent bopping around at the whim of everyone else, never my choice.  I went where i was told.  I lived the way i had to in order to keep a roof over my head.  Self preservation won over any goals i had in my life.  Shit just happened to me instead of me making shit happen.

The only thing i accomplished that i am proud of is my children.   I look at them now all grown up and independent, each with spouses they love in their own homes with their own jobs and lives - and I know they are the story of my success.

For the first time in my life i feel like i'm making conscious choices to move in the direction I choose.  Leaving where i live now is feeling harder than i expected because it has felt like home, the kind you have when you grow up with a family.  A "normal" family.  Part of me is afraid to leave - kinda the way i imagine an 18 year old senior feels when going off to college.  This family took me in and allowed me time and space to lick my wounds, cry spontaneously - laugh loudly - swear constantly, and be a part of their family in every way.

Which is why i now feel that the choices I make are not made out of self preservation, but because my heart wants this.  I want to share the rest of my life with MM.  Or for as long as he treats me with love and respect.  Because now i know what that is and how that feels.  I have no doubts.  I'm very excited to begin the rest of our days come what may.    I will never be able to say i didn't live my life when i'm old and frail and in the nursing home.  I'll be the one with the little wicked grin on my face.