This morning I find myself at an unusual loss for words. Not a writers block, on the contrary, a brand new story about the last five years of my life is running through my head. So unfortunate that The Last Five Years is a title that is already wonderfully taken. But more at a loss for how to say what’s in my heart.
As a survivor of abuse I’m used to the feelings of loss and disappointment. I’m not used to feeling calm and content. I felt it most with my children and I feel it a lot now with the kids I nanny (Beatle Boy and Flower Girl) and the ones I used to nanny, (Ginger Snap and Sammy Bo Baggins). But I’m not used to feeling it alone, and this last year has given me that.
And I’m jealous for it. I want the calm, content and safe feeling all the time. I’m so tired of the worry and paranoia that comes from relationships. This is my hermit phase, and I believe I’ve picked the perfect place for it. Chicago. A huge city that prides itself on its ability to have everything that New York and Los Angeles has, but it's a big secret. Like Chicago’s past. You gotta know someone to get in. I like secrets. And I like keeping them. I like telling them too, but I like keeping them more.
I miss love, and I miss sharing my life with someone special but I don’t miss any of the drama that comes with relationships. Now maybe I’ve picked the wrong types of men to be in relationships but that is probably due to the repressed nature of my abuse. Now that it's not repressed anymore and I can see it for what it was, I see men in a very different light. Especially the bad boy types I was attracted to, and thought I was helping. Poor trained to be obedient me. So gullible. So wanting to believe.
I think that my attraction to Mr. Practical was about that. He was not a typical bad boy. He turned out to be one, but he didn’t fit the complete profile, quite the opposite. He was the first man in my life that wanted me sober. (Which was very flattering.) And I’d have to say the opposite is also true, he was the first man I wanted sober that wasn’t gay. LOL So while that was not the ideal experience for either of us, it was the start of me wanting more for myself. Wanting the whole package. Wanting someone that I didn’t need to raise, or fix, or babysit. And with last weeks amazing things that happened, I feel I’m on the right road.
I went out all by myself in the big, big city, to a wake that was set in an Irish pub for a Scottish woman, surrounded by so many people I didn’t know, and quite a few I did. The introvert in me, the wounded warrior, tried to talk me out of it more than once during the day. But I went. And I had a great time. And the friends I shared it with, or tried to, were all very happy and proud of me, because they know how hard a climb it has been back from Mr. Practical, Mr. Hopeful and Mr. Charisma.
But with the help of my favorite muses, and influences, (Stevie Nicke, Neil Pert, Roger Waters, Stephen King, Dr. Who, X-Files, Supernatural, George RR Martin, Gilmore Girls, and Parenthood) I’ve found the noises in my head have quieted. And I can think. Really think. About what is most important in my life, and who deserves to be a part of it. I’m very selective now, and so if I include you in my personal day to day events, or try to, consider yourself trusted. And if I don’t, I’m finally sure, that I’m missed. That statement took a lot from such a broken soul. It’s not ego, its repair work.
Cheers
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