Stuck In a Moment

I hear it's particularly normal to have bizarre dreams about exes in the months prior to your wedding. What they didn't tell me is that the love of my life from 6 yrs ago was going to contact me for the first time in nearly 4 years!

How can I explain Drew in one short paragraph? He was the bright spot in my day, the happy-go-lucky guy whose dimple made me smile and who was my best friend during the darkest time of my life. He witnessed the irrational behavior of my controlling husband, listened when I needed to talk and gave me the courage to extricate myself from the situation for good. He could read my thoughts, dreams and fears through pure eye contact and quickly transformed from best friend to best love, fully and completely appreciating me for me and all of my little intricacies. Even on bad days, he would cancel his plans, sit me down, give me a massage and make me dinner. He was passion, intensity and bliss in a protected little bubble. No one could come between us. No one except the ex husband who was still not officially my ex because my faith made me too torn to go through with the offical proceedings after a year and a half. At the end, Drew decided to join the Navy and I was less than supportive. Between that and my slow effort to action, I pushed him away for good and I have never fully forgiven myself for it. He was the biggest love and biggest loss of my entire life.

A year later, in 2004, Drew, the punk rock bass player married a recent transplant from Mexico who knew little English and left for boot camp.

Last November, I found Drew on a mutual friend's myspace page and sent him a quick hello. I was genuinely curious how he was doing, since last I heard, he had shipped off to Guam. I noticed he hadn't signed in since August though, so I didn't expect much.

Last week, as I was driving to pick Ian up from school, an old song came on that Drew had put on the last cd he ever made me, themed accordingly to subliminally suggest that I make up my mind once and for all and move forward. Thinking back to the idiot I was for not realizing it until it was too late, I decided I might dig up his old e-mail and send him a letter. It had been cathartic for me to do with a few others, so why not?

Three days and several e-mails in my head but not actually sent later, Adam and I got home from ordering his wedding band and I checked my myspace to find a shocking e-mail from Drew. It was strange and vague but excited to be back in touch with me. He sent an extremely long letter to my reply...one which provided me with all of the answers that I had wanted from years ago. His marriage was crumbling, he was getting out of the military and he had been thinking about us and wondering if we really were right for one another or not. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried it all out. Suppressed memories came flooding back to me and I was so entirely overwhelmed. It was what I had always wanted, only 6 years too late. His reason for telling me all of it was simply to say that we'll never know what had happened and that he had found himself in my shoes. He had met someone who reminded him of me and now he completely understood why it pained me so much to make such a concrete decision to end my marriage.
After living in the Twilight Zone for the past few days, and being able to fully process all of my raging thoughts, I have come to a few positive conclusions:
1) Giving Drew advice on how to make that difficult choice allowed me to envision what it would be like if I was forced to make that choice now between him and Adam. Years ago, I tried to tell Drew that I was going to give my marriage another shot and that he and I could never be, but when I did, all I could see was the pained look in his sad, green eyes and I just couldn't do it. Now, I couldn't do it to Adam. He is my rock and my life now and no matter how much Drew and I have been through together, I am merely enamoured with the past idea of us and not who we are today.
2) As my dear friend, Jen unwittingly pointed out, maybe this whole communication was to finally show me that Drew finally understands and I am finally released of the years of guilt I have felt for making the biggest mistake of my life. Maybe that mistake was all for the best.
3) The onslaught of memories has helped me fill in the blanks of long forgotten stories for that first novel I began and I haven't been able to stop writing since.

As I said to Drew, there are some people in life who will forever hold a piece of your heart because of all you went through together. I'm glad that little fragment is at least in good hands.

Now, all is right with the world, and I had a sex dream about Joey McIntyre last night. Go figure.

Friday the Thirteenth

Typically, I've never been one to be superstitious and I usually have fantastic Friday the 13th's. Honestly, today I even forgot it was that notorious date until someone commented on my disastrous morning. Regardless, I'm just chalking it up to a string of bad events.

It all began like this...
7:00 a.m. Adam usually wakes up early and takes Ian to school and lets me sleep, but Ian was coughing incessantly due to his allergies and I was awake.

7:43 a.m. Adam was having a rough morning already, as it was cloudy and he was disappointed because his flight lesson got canceled, and I could hear him scrambling madly to get Ian out the door. I decided I'd get up, help out and shower early and see if I could get my passport renewed for the honeymoon before my doctor's appointment. I had a physical scheduled at 10:30 to see if I qualified to participate in a research study to try a drug for my seemingly endless stomach problems. By the time I got ready, I was starving, of course, but could only drink water until after they drew my blood.

9:15 a.m. Dropped Adam off at work and went to the Passport office. Apparently, having your old passport is not sufficient if you dog has chewed on the corner. I was instructed to go home and retrieve my birth certificate. Oh and payment must be part cash and part check or money order. Highly annoyed, I rounded a corner quickly and cringed at the sound of my little car hitting the curb.

9:49 a.m. I arrived home, successfully sequestered my birth certificate and filled out my paperwork. I wanted to eat so badly but I had just a bit longer to wait.

10:11 a.m. I decided not to risk it and headed straight for the doctor. It was my first time there and of course the research study's instructions failed to mention the first turn, and I had to re-track myself using my handy GPS. In the midst of this, a car pulled up beside me honking frivolously. She slowed and mouthed the dreaded words, "You have a flat tire", gesturing toward the wheel that had my irritation taken out on it earlier. I thought about going straight toward a Discount Tire but decided I desperately wanted in on this study, so I drove the extra two miles, only to discover the entirely deflated rubber when I parked. I filled out additional consent forms (I had already spent nearly forty minutes filling out background info last night), waited for a bit, trying not to stress about my tire, to no avail, and was finally called in. Ten minutes later, I was escorted out, no check in hand. Apparently, I have to stop taking any and all drugs/herbals/supplements related to my stomach and the acid blockers my real doctor prescribed are the only thing sparing me from nauseating pain.

10:53 a.m. Staring at the horribly disfigured tire, I set my things down in my trunk and open the storage, shaking as I failed to lift the oddly placed tire. I glance around and notice a 711 less than a quarter mile away.

10:59 a.m. I pull into what I thought was a gas station, only to be flagged down my several men telling me to stop immediately before I drove through wet concrete. Apparently, the deceptive sign housed an under construction gas station. However, the men were kind and hooked up their air hose for me to get me to the Discount Tire a mile away.

11:03 a.m. Hazards flashing, I wheel slowly into the Discount Tire, as a man commented "Man, you made it here just in time". I got out to find that my tire had completely gone flat again after only a mile. Thankfully, I had coverage from my lease and my new tire was free.

11:14 a.m. Overheated, stressed, nauseated, shaking, headachy, frustrated, and famished, I hiked a quarter mile to a Quiznos and collapsed into a seat with a sandwich.

12:03 a.m. Thankfully, I was done in 45 minutes, however I noticed I was short one hubcap. It must have fallen off when I hit the curb. and I decided that I was going to accomplish something on the agenda today, so I returned to the passport office (which was on the way to work) and submitted my application. After all that, I certainly wasn't about to risk missing my honeymoon!!

Three tylenol, a 7up and a sandwich later, and I am feeling nearly human again. TGIF? Well, usually!

Hot N Cold

So, I was driving to work this morning, fiddling with the crappy run-of-the mill radio presets until I gleefully stopped on "Just Like Heaven" by the Cure. As I listened to the twinkles and pretty guitars, I wondered just how many songs I would be limited to for my wedding play list due to altogether too many memories of... days gone by. Just then, the song ended and I giggled as the familiar reassuring chick rock tune belted out of Katy Perry's angst-ridden mouth:

You
Change your mind
Like a girl
Changes clothes
Yeah You
PMS
Like a bitch
I would know
And You
Over Think
Always Speak
Cryptically
I should know
That you're no good for me!

Cause you're hot then you're cold
You're yes then you're no
You're in then you're out
You're up then you're down
You're wrong when it's right
It's black and it's white...

Well, I don't need to go on, but it highly amuses me every time I hear that song and it just reaffirms how I made the right decision.

So I moved on, and then I purchased my wedding dress!

Oh, Edward...

As a writer, dreamer and all around romantic idealist, I often find myself wrapped up in a fictitious story and relating it to at least one current or former aspect of my life...or at least the overly dramatized elements of it that lie within the twisted cavities of my brain.

Over the holiday break, due to the insistence of several friends, I delved deep into the abyss of the Twilight series. I have never been so deeply absorbed in books in my entire life!

As I was reading through these stories of soul mates, I was also neck-deep in wedding dress selection and guest list reduction, which has placed a certain panic within me and made everything seem so...final. I contemplated the guest list and the great loves of my life, one whom was currently on said list. I've been asked a few times if that person ever had a sudden change of heart, if I would consider giving him another chance, and it got me thinking. I allowed myself a short indulgence down a rather poisonous path just to try to reach a final conclusion as to why the thoughts still plagued me from time to time. I thought about Edward and Bella and how closely I could relate to the uncanny inseparable duo and especially to the way she felt when she was near him. Edward even disappeared for a time, but all the while, he loved Bella and stayed true to her. In my case, however, he let the protected, special element of our uniqueness, our friendship, our soul mate qualities dissipate. He shut me out entirely and cheapened it with superfluous others after me and insisted upon keeping them all around for his undying glory, putting all that muck in the middle of us. Though I've known it for a while, it occurred to me in a searing flash that no amount of time or change of heart would ever heal the wounds he left and it would never be possible to go back.

At the end of this rabbit trail, I came to a rather remarkable conclusion. Part of me was still in love with the fantasy...with the memory of what was (for several brief glimmers) or mostly...what could have been. Though it's true that the stories were spectacular and several of the scenes were quite the essence of the finest romance novel or film, that's just it...maybe they're best served for fodder for my next two novels for others to revel in and to sit safely inside bound pages, high upon a dusty bookshelf.

And that's that...

Besides, no one can ever really live up to Edward.

Brother, Dearest

I had the best conversation with my brother tonight. It was genuine and real and something we haven't done in quite some time.
Growing up, we were quite close and played together constantly. However, we drifted after I left for college and he was stuck at home alone with our sweet but overbearing zealot of a mother.
Since he moved to Austin this past spring, we've been able to see one another a few times and he even spent the entire weekend with Adam's family out on the boat. It wasn't until tonight though that I felt like we overcame a huge obstacle in our relationship and progresseed to becoming great friends again. He called to tell me he was drafting a letter to each of our parents to address their rude, awkward behavior toward one another since their separation over twenty years ago. He was requesting that they put grievances aside once and for all for my wedding so we could actually sit down as a family and I wouldn't have to worry about a thing on my day. I couldn't believe he thought to do such a sincere act for me and I was greatly touched. We talked about how odd our family is and how rare it was for them to speak honestly about life, and how grateful we were that we could be so candid with one another.
It occurred to me recently just how self absorbed I had been after I left home at age 18. He was 13 and greatly needed me at the time. He said that he too just realized how he harbored resentment toward me for many years because of it. I apologized to him for not being there for him or making more of an effort to check in. He understood, in light of our overprotective upbringing that it was easy to run away and not look back and he didn't blame me at all.
He even said he loved me, which has always been a difficult thing for him, and I know that he meant it. The damage done by our father's absence weighed heavily upon his growing up but I'm so proud of the man that he is becoming.
It's taken us a long time to get to this point but I'm extremely excited that we finally arrived here and I look forward to hopefully reuniting our family.

Ode to sleeplessness

Here I am again, exhausted and out of my bed when I should be sleeping, shaking limbs causing unsteady keystrokes. I am so tired of not sleeping and I wish for the life of me that someone could finally figure out what is wrong with my insides. My digestive system is completely out of whack and I've lost 20 lbs in the last six months. Most who know me well, know my meager frame cannot really spare the poundage. I honestly think I look fine but my clothes are too big and I feel like absolute crap 60% of the time. I've had multiple tests run to no avail and I'm going to a different doctor for another batch after Christmas. I just pray he can finally find a solution so I can feel like a normal human being again...and eat a full meal without feeling sick...and get a good night's sleep for a change. Oh how I miss sleep.

DO NOT CROSS

Sometimes, I wish I could create a yellow and black tape perimeter around me, my house and my little family. There are just some people in this world that simply do not comprehend social boundaries and require some sort of visual to assist them. It's a great concept, in theory, if only it were acceptable.

You see, we have run into a bit of an issue lately. A little background: Prior to us taking over custody, Ian's mom's sister and her husband used to pick Ian up from school and take him to their home every Thursday. Being that Adam and I are sharing a car at the moment and he has school this semester until 7pm on Thursdays, leaving me at work without transportation, it really helped us out to continue that plan. Unfortunately, after only three weeks of this, we have already become highly annoyed.

For one, on the very first night they dropped him off, they just waltzed into our home without an invitation and sat down in our kitchen. I'm sorry but when I go to someone's house, I wait outside the door until I am invited in and even then, I do not take a seat unless it is offered to me. I thought that was common courtesy, but apparently not everyone has received that memo. They also garnished me with hugs and kisses on the cheek. I have met these people twice in my lifetime and anyone who knows me well, knows how much I despise fake niceties.

By the second week, Ian had begun testing the waters of his new surroundings and started acting up in school again. On that particular Thursday, his uncle stood outside our home with Adam, discussing whatever Ian's teacher had said that day and offering unsolicited disciplinary advice while I was forced to entertain the aunt, who had once again made herself comfortable in my kitchen while I was making dinner. After nearly thirty minutes of conversation about Ian's transition and how much she adored our home and how she had driven around writing down numbers on homes down the street for lease (Oh God!), I asked Ian where his daddy was. Thankfully, she picked up on the hint and went outside to check on the guys. Apparently, once Adam got a word in edgewise, he was able to share his wise parental plan, which sufficiently left the whiskey-stenched uncle speechless and they left after more hugs and kisses.

After last night, we realized that there were simply too many chiefs for this one little Indian and the line had officially been trampled upon. Around 3pm, I received a call from Ian's mom, asking if I knew anything about some supposedly mandatory math night at the school. Apparently, Ian's uncle had called her after picking him up and gave her the 3rd degree about it. We had seen something on the school's billboard and heard of it vaguely, but nothing about it being required. After calling the school, Ian's mom learned it was optional and both of us got a chuckle over it. Well, that evening, a lovely friend gave me a ride home and Adam stayed up at school practicing on the flight simulators. Unfortunately for me, this meant I had to deal with the terrible twosome on my own. To my relief, their dog was violently ill at home and they dropped him at the door...but, not before reminding me about how we missed the math meeting and how they felt it was in Ian's best interest to at least do something, so they held their own math night and wrote a note to his teacher all about it. I was floored but I thanked them and wished them well with their dog, quickly procuring the boy inside. He's not actually my son, so I'd let Adam deal with it. Adam was furious as I read the note to him over the phone, giggling at the spelling of the word "excercizes".

I simply do not understand some people's lack of judgment and extreme inclination to interfere. I realize the child is not mine by blood but he does live under my roof and I care for him a great deal. Now, we have to decide how to tactfully handle this matter without causing a huge amount of drama. Thankfully, next week is Thanksgiving and Adam's only has one more Thursday night class after that, so we will no longer have the need for Thursday help, however, convincing a family member of that is most likely going to be received as an ungrateful slap in the face.
Anyone know where I can get some crime scene tape?