birthday boy

the absolute love of my life turns 41 tomorrow. i couldn't be more thankful for his entrance (and survival) in this world. he finally found me, and i him, two years ago tomorrow. if i'd only have known...

i knew it was our last night in florida. i put on my yellow and white plaid sun dress. i had painstakingly straightened my hair, but no amount of heat or product could beat the humidity that night. so i gave up and put it into a pony. i drank wine straight out of the bottle, brown bag and all, just to prove how classy i was. lauren and i had brought papa johns for all the guys, and ate it in the laundry room of the marina. after we ate, we all wandered around the dock, some were on the broken down boat choosing play lists and shooting the shit. some were standing on the dock talking to neighboring vacationers. mark and i found our way to the end of the dock and i wrapped my arm around the post just so i had something to hold onto. it wasn't the wine i needed steadying from, it was the electrifying tension between us.

i blurted out basically my life story...something i rarely do so easily. i delved into the darkest corners and fondest memories. he watched me talk like nobody ever had, he asked questions and i could see how genuine his interest and concern was for me. it was beyond refreshing. he shared his very personal, present day, problems. he was struggling so much with the choice between stability and his happiness, and told me the details of the past three years for him and his kids. we talked for hours. i was absolutely awestruck by this man who looked at me so intensely, who made me feel something so deep; not only emotionally, but physically, who never took his precious green eyes off me.

i finished my wine bottle, then whispered a line from my favorite movie into it, corked it, and threw it over the edge of the dock. the next morning we were parting ways. him back to his life, me back to mine. we never planned or expected to see each other again. as we were driving away, my heart hurt. it physically ached. it was so wrong. he says to him it felt like a dark cloud followed them all the way back, and he had to fight the urge to ask his friend to turn the truck around, to go back. our hearts knew way before we did.

and he hasn't left my mind for a minute since then.

happy birthday, my darling. happy birthday to the man who has picked me up so many times, who has carried, supported, held, and loved me with all he has for the past two years. to the man to whom my heart, soul, and body belong. to the man who melts me. to the man who fathers our children so brilliantly. to the man who will own me as long as i'm breathing.

to you, baby. happy birthday. i love you more than you'll ever comprehend, and more than i'll ever be able to express with my measly words.

"this is the end. the end of life as i know it."

I LOVE YOU

lonely side of love

i've decided to, once again, make this blog private. i will continue to write about what i feel, raw, uncensored, freely. i'm working to repair some very important relationships, and this blog seems to be hindering them. gotta love chitter chatter, gossip, and judgement. it makes the world go 'round, i suppose.

want to continue reading? email me here and let me know.

unlike before, i welcome family and friends alike. (and for those of you creeper facebook friends that read and are embarrassed to ask, don't be...i'm just as nosy as the next person :) i simply need to close it down from the 'public' eye.

thank you for the ever constant support you provide. this blog has been better than $100 an hour therapy in so many ways.

it will go private tomorrow night (5/30) by midnight.

love.

apology

well i need to apologize.
apologize for turning my anger into an attack. i will not apologize for how i feel, because i believe it's fully validated. and i won't take down my post, because it's the rawest of emotions, and a very large part of me. when i get as angry as i got last night, i immediately throw up walls and go up in arms, preparing to fend off any one or any thing that attempts to approach me. it's not fair for me to attack anyone, no matter how i feel.

fuckery

guess who didn't call oliver on his fifth birthday?! his dad. shocker. what a miserable excuse for a parent. you're a terrible, horrible, no good, excuse for a "father" to my child. i thank god every day they have a real father in their lives.

also, i just love conversations about my parents' third grandchild. makes me relive those oh-so-happy days of my two pregnancies, where i was nothing less than shunned. i fondly recalled my ob-gyn appointments back in 2005. alone, scared, and when i asked if anyone cared to know the sex...what wonderful times. even better when i was dropped off at the medicaid office being told "good luck"...even better. god i wish i'd had a legitimate child. oh well.

i have my live in boyfriend, his three children (whose mother died of cancer, leaving me their mother for all intensive purposes) to take care of. oh and my one super illegitimate child, and other semi illegitimate child to care for. and the dog we paid way too much for. oh and the chains and whips we keep under our bed. and the upside down cross in the living room we gather around every saturday night.

fuck it. i'll just head to church and repent and give 10% of my child support check (should i receive it) each week to the church. then, i'll pray. and everything will be magical. and i will be loved and accepted by my wonderful christian family. and we'll laugh and play board games.

or...i could work my ass off at being the best mother, partner, and friend i can be. put every penny of my measly child support check (should i receive it) into buying and preparing food for my family of 5 growing kids, spend 100 hours a week without my partner while he works two jobs to support the seven of us, and spend it teaching our children fun games in the yard or tricks to cleaning the house or buying them slushies at sonic that they later spill everywhere. i tucked them into bed, tickling each one and making each one laugh and giggle before kissing them goodnight. and i'm fucking satisfied. i have done my best, a damned good job today. i'm glad i didn't waste 4 good hours of my sunday at church pretending to be amazing. i love my little dysfunctional and ever insane family. i do not regret a single second of my life with them. i do not regret (as painful as it is) losing an entire family over a religion and life choice. i am strong, i am a good person, i am an amazing mother. i'd be more than happy to show you my favorite finger if you think otherwise.

this is not a feel-sorry-for-little-ol-me post. this is a fuck-you-i'm-stronger-than-you-think posts.

so, fuck you.