coming full circle...

This year has been a turbulent year, many not so good changes. I lost the recent battle with the gym and weight and I am back at the starting point again. I wrecked my truck, and had to get a new one, which I truly can't afford. I am in the negative financially more now than ever. I haven't found the one again, many frogs, but no prince. Lastly, I lost my dad. This man that had me fearing for my life at times, hating myself, and hating him for the majority of my life. However in the end, I miss him, my daddy. Miss the good parts of him, and I am saddened that his physical self is gone. I am so looking forward to this next year, another one to try again, to hope, to give, to learn from and to I pray finally just live in. I hope that within this year, I make it to my goal shape, in body and mind. That I choose happier, healthier moments to cling to. I hope to find a way to save money instead of living paycheck to middle of the month and no new paycheck. I pray that I find the one I pray for, the one with sparkling blue eyes, with depth in their body, mind and soul. I want to get lost in their very presence, and truly smile and love. I want to remember my dad, not the bad things I lived through, but the good things he gave to other's, to my kids, and ultimately to me. This year I want to move forward, let the past go. I need to learn new ways and let go of the old ways that have shown nothing but loss. I want to truly turn the pages and move on. I have been wasting my time on dating apps over this last year, and I mean really wasting my time. Giving myself over to a moment of pleasure just to try and feel, but gaining nothing. I was getting tired of all the games, and have become even more weary of playing them myself, when a man with ice blue eyes said hi. I thought he was a bot at first, because he was in the oil and gas industry and from Louisiana, working in Texas. I was polite and said hello back, but didn't pursue this man. I was busy fishing for what I thought was a real man, mostly real losers, but not a bot. He kept coming back, "Hello pretty one". Thought this surely was a line, and in fact probably was. I was short with my responses. Didn't think to much of this "Calvin" person. My dad died, and well I got a message on the day we were burying my dad from this man. I replied that I was burying my dad and that I was dealing with that. He was so polite and understanding. I let it go, he had left his number a couple of times and I ignored it. He kept asking when we could talk, he thought I was a woman of substance, more than pretty eyes. Then one morning I woke up and gave him my number, just did, it was a push from somewhere. We had in depth texts, more than the usual hey sexy, more than send me a pic of your girls, oh by the way here's a dick pic just for you. He did none of those, for his texts were about life, knowledge, and he made me smile. In early December it snowed here, he was out in it, working on a well site. I was genuinely concerned for this mans safety, his comfort, and I had not even met him. I began to look forward to just the simple "Good morning pretty one", sometimes days would go by and well I would wish for a text, but gave it no mind, for after all maybe he was not a real man, just a romance scam artist. I was cautious at best. Then he texted that he was home in Louisiana, and that he wanted me to know that he was still interested. We started marathon texting, I just felt right with him and responding. He shared pictures of his grand kids, he sent pics of him in the dentist chair, he shared his life. He had me secretly praying to God, to let him be real, that if he was, I would give up the chase of the not so great, and the ones that made me feel less than a woman of substance. Then I asked him to call me, this was a test, a not so real person would not call, but he did, when I answered his call I could hear his gentle voice, heavy with uncertain shyness, my heart quickened. We talked for 3 hours, we talked the next morning for another 3 hours, sharing just our thoughts for the moment. Talking every day, texting, getting to know each other bit by bit. I shared my dark story, he listened, I listened to him. Genuinely listening, and beginning to care. He shared his hopes for a future with someone someday, that would hinge on adoration, friendship, love, someone that would keep him interested before, during and after sex. He wanted a woman with big beautiful eyes, a good smile, and a booty, those where his physical needs, but a woman with substance was something he so desired. Someone that would listen, understand, and keep up her side of the conversation. I shared with him that I was looking for a best friend, an honest man, a man that worked hard, that was loyal and that would never hurt me.  Christmas holidays came, he was alone in Alice, Texas, sick with a head cold, and was told he couldn't go anywhere, had to be available to work if needed. So I decided to go see him on Christmas night. I took him food, and just wanted to meet and share time with this man. It was a time of talking, and sharing, he didn't eat. He was eager to show me how to handle a gun, wanted to see the fit, because I had mentioned that I wanted to learn how to shoot a gun. He talked about when he comes to San Antonio, that we would go shooting. He talked of when "we" often that evening. We shared a bottle of wine, we shared each other, and we kept talking after, he slept with a smile. I watched him for a while before I fell asleep. I would wake several times during the night to listen to him breathe, and when he'd cough I'd ask if he was ok. I felt adoration for this man, that I knew in my mind that when the morning came, I would leave, and with probability never see him again. He woke up in the morning, around 5:30, turned on TV, was watching the news with me laying next to him, holding my hand. We talked about the news, we just talked. He asked me how do you take your coffee, and brought me coffee in bed. We laid there for two hours talking about my work, his work. He said that I was stuck with him, and that he was glad I liked him, and genuinely smiled when I spoke of work. He had bought a throw blanket the night before and slept with it, he gave it to me, and when he realized that it did not smell truly like him, he sprayed his cologne on it. I had slept in his tshirt which smelled of oil field and slightly like me, I dabbed my perfume on it for him. Just a small dot. My heart felt like it was going to break as I walked out to my truck with him, hugging him like I just didn't want to let him go, but I had too. I made it home, and now here I sit, knowing that my Christmas moment was just that, a moment. Not a life changing all will be right in the world moment, but a small one to cherish. The ones you pick up and hold close, and inhale for all it's worth. I still thank God for the realness of it, and of him. I will miss him, miss the hope that he was the one, but know what it was, and as always is. I was played, out played, and it was my heart that knew it before my mind allowed. So I will dust  myself off and remember what I was thinking when I started this writing, coming full circle, I was hoping for change, and today I know it has to be now or never. To turn the page, and hope that this new year, well is a better one and that I stay focused and put my heart back inside that box and this time double lock and lose the damn key, and begin my healing of me......

School year has begun.....

Today is the first day of school, I just dropped my baby off to start his 7th grade year. AC/DC ablaze on his shirt, my son back in black to face this new year with more confidence than last year. He's growing up so fast, and before you know it he'll be a man. I pray everyday that I will do right by him. It's not easy being a mom alone, I never asked for this, but knew it would happen. I am not a dad, I don't know how to be a dad, nor do I know what a good dad is. To be a good parent you have to be both kind and firm. You should never be cruel, I know this, and yet I have been at times. Cruel in things I've said without thought to my kids, my daughter the most if truth be told. Why, because it will make her stronger, that's just mental bull shit I told myself to not deal with my actions. I own that, and I acknowledge that I am far from a perfect parent, nor do I want to be. Never want to be perfect, just fair. Hard to undo a lifetime of bad parenting. Yet, I forgive myself my faults. For I see this wonderful little boy thriving. There are days he is the only light that shines in my day. So much lays ahead of him, should he choose. There is the biggest thing I can do for him, is allow for him to choose, to make mistakes, but be there for him to help when he needs it, and to stand back and watch and love him. How do I guide him, to keep him from making the same mistakes that I did, I don't fear he'll make his father's mistakes. He's to good, to kind, and well his soul is far from damaged to be lost to his demons. The mistakes I made were in not preparing for the future. I live in here and now, without any savings, Bob took care of that when he wiped everything out over and over again. How will I get him through school, through college, through his first heart break. I can't even teach him simple things, like tying his shoes, riding a bike, how can I teach him to soar... Oh my self doubts eek through sometimes. I should try and look at what I have given him, and feel secure enough in knowing I do the best I can. I have given him life, love and security. He is surrounded by a brother and sister that adore him. He really truly lacks for nothing that doesn't sustain him. The only thing I can't provide for him is his father, or even step one. He's asked me many times, and I always hug him, and tell him, it's not that easy. As with everything, it's in Gods time, not mine. I hurt for him when he cries for his loss, when he allows the darkness of that pain to cloud his otherwise bright self. It hurts me, but I have to let him deal with it, work through it, and he always does. Just like the day I told him, that his dad had died, he cried, heart breaking to see and hear. His little body racked with immediate grief and loss, all I could do was hold him, let it happen, and then just when I thought he could cry no more, or I to bear it, he fell asleep, deeply asleep in my arms. Two hours, I pray that in that time, Bob reached out to him. I will never no, it's a nice fantasy, and beautiful thought, only God knows. My biggest wish and hope for him is to be great, at being just himself, and accepting of his ups and downs and learning to surf the waves of life.

My daughter has begun another semester towards becoming that teacher she yearns to be. She gets to shadow along side a middle school history teacher, and I pray she enjoys every minute. For the choice of careers should be part joy and that she gets fulfillment as well. She has become a remarkable young woman. I had some part in it, but mainly it's just who she is. She is quick to remind me of how much I place on her when it comes to her brother. I lean to much on her I know, it's not right to do this, and I will try to do better. She's a strong young woman, with a huge future ahead of her, no glass ceilings, no person to hold her down, besides herself. She's slowly shedding all the baggage she's carried, by just letting time heal her. She thinks all her own, doesn't have a problem speaking her mind, which I did at her age. She has not had to look for rescue or a way out, she is making one on her own. Someday when it's right, she find someone to "share" her life, not be her life, and that is the way it should be. She will come into her own on her own, and I am just so proud of who she is. I hear my mom in the back of my mind, whispering, if she's just "whatever" she'd be thinner, happier, healthier, blah, blah, blah, same shit she said about me....but I don't want to be that to my daughter, she knows, I don't need to tell her, she see's my struggle and well, again when it's right for her she will shed this old skin and become reborn as the person she wants to be, not the person anyone else thinks she should be. My daughter, I love her deeply and I am so proud of her, and well I couldn't be me without her. Bob's little girl, is more me then him, and well that's a good thing. I am grateful that she doesn't drink, smoke, or do any form of drugs. Her addictions are simple and she knows what they are, and I'll leave it at that. Her demons are relatively quiet, not soul taking like her fathers, or nagging like mine, so I am grateful that she can walk without fear. I pray that Bob is looking down at her and that he is smiling and knows that she will carry on the better parts of us...

Today is a new year of learning, changes for the future, and so it begins.

Waiting game.....

I have never been able to just wait patiently. My mind has always raced to the what ifs. What if, disaster is coming? What if, it doesn't happen? What if, this time I'm done for? All good things come with bad things attached in my mind. All truths have lies around the edges. My trust factor is nil. So to wait for something good, is the hardest thing I have to do. Toes tapping, fingers too. I sit and wait for a person, a feeling, a soul filling need, to come into my life. I wait for the other shoe to drop as well. Where is my faith? I lost it years ago. In my mind, it's not going to happen in my life time. I know that I will not find completeness or happiness that fills my heart from another. I know that the only way I will find that feeling of completeness is through myself, only through me finding myself. How do I do that? I don't know, I struggle with that everyday. I wait....

My favorite friend, who I had not heard from in a long time, texted me out of the blue. My heart beat just a bit faster, my mind said be cautious, rightfully so. For I love this favorite friend more than I should be allowed. I have been hurt, lied to, manipulated for his gains, but my wants. Our last conversation months ago, I lashed out in drunken anger and jealousy. Truth stings, but when you're fueled by whiskey or wine you don't feel it as much. And truth is you don't care. He may of only deserved a quarter of my comments, but I let loose, and lost him.. Truth be known, he was never mine to lose. Anyway he texted, I responded, and boy how I had missed him came back with painful vengeance. I write to clear my mind, I write to clear my soul, and I write to heal. I wrote some things that were not true but spiteful, bitterly mean even. Do I regret writing, no, because I needed it, to be able to move along my journey. What should of been a new start, was really a stall. For I let him read what I had written, maybe is was my mind wanting him to know how I had felt, how he had made me feel. My heart should of known better. Open mouth insert foot, yep, would of been better. My pain became his truth and again a bitter pill to swallow. He is, in his soul, a very good man, with really a lot to offer this world, if he could get past his pain, his demons, and I would love to help him meet his potential, but I just took myself out of his life equation by being me. Spiteful, bitter, mean, angry, and drowning in my own pain. To many strikes thrown, to many I am sorry's, to much time waiting. However I simply said goodbye, but maybe someday he will forgive me my anger and pride and at least put out the hand for friendship, nothing more, but the giver of that old familiar smile, so I wait....

Work has been a bitch, heavy with everyone else's needs demanding my attention. I have let my needs go to the way side. Not been eating right, not been to the gym and drinking way to much again on the weekend. Oh not as much as I used to, but still more than I should. I dread Monday, I already know what's waiting. I keep thinking any minute they will stupid I really am, how much I just fake it to make it. The one thing I can't fake is my feelings and compassion for those in need. I know that's why I still do what I do. I suppose it fills a void for me. If give maybe, just maybe I'll get in return. I very rarely cry at work, because of work. But recently it has become a daily thing. Brief as it may be, because there is no crying in Neurosurgery, or baseball, either way it's not accepted. You do the job and move onto the next needful person. Do your best to patch them up and keep going. Lately, I can't patch them up, can't get them to the next level, they stay waiting..... I hate this, the waiting to move on....

The waiting for the longing for, the desire to be desired, but know that with each passing day your beauty fades and grays, and lines replace smooth skin, and desire becomes a thing of the past. Once lost to never regain. Each day another potential another chance to set things right, to move forward, to keep breathing, with that thought I realize this waiting.. I don't want to wait until my life is over, I want to live it and love in it now. I suppose the best place to start is within my heart, that's been waiting for me a long time......