Over not (3/13/20)

When I called you yesterday, and I told you I didn’t plan on calling you because I thought I needed some time and space, you said, “oh, you got over me that quick, huh?” I know you said it jokingly, and I took it as such, but I still thought about it today. I needed something to write about, and that’s what popped into my head first.

If anything, I’m less over you than ever. If I felt this kind of friction with someone in the past, I’d choose to dip out and say it wasn’t worth it. But for some reason, I want to stick around with you. I’ll admit, I was nervous when I called you, just because of how things were left off when we last communicated. But I forgot about that when I saw you. It was a fucking relief to see your demeanor changed, just in the way you looked at me. It felt pleasant and normal again and not stressed and forced. Let’s keep doing that; I don’t need anything more right now. But over you, I am not.

Writing Therapy (3/12/20)

I felt very at peace with things yesterday after I wrote out my thoughts. That writing therapy got to me. I’ve heard many times of the power of taking those thoughts floating around in your head and putting them down on the “page.” It never really clicked until yesterday. It almost makes too much sense to write every time something starts to rattle a little differently up there in the dome. Like, why not? A part of me thought having the ability to go back and read it over and over again would trap me in a vicious loop of reliving it. But in actuality, it put order to all of those thoughts so I can see everything step by step, to make sense of it all. 

A couple of days ago, I told myself I needed some space from someone for a while. I texted that person yesterday. I think if I hadn’t put my thoughts in order yesterday morning, I’d still be exercising that space with zero communication. But when I texted, it wasn’t weird, it didn’t feel wrong or rushed or awkward, and the response I received felt normal and comfortable. I don’t know that I’m ready to have a face-to-face with them yet, but I think the overpowering feeling of missing their friendship dissolved any of those other space inducing feelings I was having.  

Being cerebral sometimes can get you in a lot of trouble with overthinking things, but it can also help you resolve matters quickly. For whatever reason, I was lucky enough to develop a perspective on life that often makes me ask if certain things are that influential in the grand scheme of my life. Resolving stressful issues is much easier with that combination of perspective and being so inwardly analytical.  

One of my greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses is my emotions. It helps me connect with people when I sing, but it can get me into pickles as well. Not very often, those emotions will overpower my reasoning. I could be way worse off and be a reactionary wrecking ball, but it’s still something I can work on. I’m much more scared of the emotionless person, or the person that suppresses all of their emotions to get through life. What kind of life is that? 

Dear someone,

Dear someone,

You said you “don’t take this that seriously.” That line was a wake-up call for me. 

I knew at the start, a relationship was off the table at the time, and I told myself that it was okay. And I honestly was fine with that. Somewhere along the way, I started taking it very seriously and allowed myself to care and invest more of myself into it than I thought I was. Way more than you can right now. But that’s okay. You’re where you’re at, and I’m where I’m at. There are no fingers to point, no blame to cast. It’s a nice place to be. Nothing about it actually feels nice right now, but I know there are worse places to be. I felt like at some point, you were starting to take things a little seriously too, so in my mind, we were just getting more serious, and I was okay with that. Now I know that was causing you discomfort and is ultimately what you didn’t want from the beginning. You said you were going to be harsh, but I didn’t see it that way, you were as honest as you could be, and I appreciate that about you so much. That line was so honest that it left no room for interpretation other than the simple truth, and it’s what I needed to hear so I could be honest with myself about my wants. 

Don’t feel bad that things affect me so much, you have nothing to do with that. You can sleep tight knowing you’ve done nothing wrong. I can’t help that I think about things very deeply, sometimes too much so, but it’s because in this moment I care about it so much. I can’t take back the feelings that grew from the last several months, cats (haha) out of the bag. So all I can do is step back and hopefully let those feelings subside so you and I can get back to our friendship. Which I deeply miss right now. 

Like an asshole, I clicked on your name in my messages and looked back at the photos we sent each other over the last five or so months. I wasn’t sad; I actually smiled. It was a lot of food pictures, you looking beautiful in dresses at different events, me taking selfies with the boys at my gigs, your HANDSOME dog, random things you and I were doing, you and your mom drinking, more food pictures, more of your dog, and one selfie I forced on you at that concert in Long Beach when we were watching The Green play. I think my favorite one hands down is the one I took of you with the face mask on at your mom’s place during your December vacation back home. That’s the smile that kept me up at night. You weren’t dolled up in a dress, or posing with coworkers at an event. You were raw and beautiful, and happy. And so was I. Happy, not raw and beautiful. 

I’m very optimistic that we can get back to that one day because we bought those face masks on my last trip, and we never used them. I can’t wait to goof off with you again and make you laugh at dumb lawyer jokes. I miss hearing about your cases and the challenges you faced at work. What did you do to me that I looked forward to you venting to me about work? What the fuck. I miss walking your dog in the middle of the day because I slept through the morning. I miss kissing you, but I can’t kiss you right now without those deeper feelings creeping in. And I realize it wasn’t about not having feelings for each other, of course we had feelings for each other. It was the wanting-something-more that was the issue. I get it. I never expected anything from you or pressured you, but you were right, I deep down wanted more than you’re ready or willing to give right now. All good. Am I sad? Yeah, of course.

I promise to be a good friend to you again soon, as long as you can be one to me as well. I miss you a lot. Before it was the proximity, you being across an ocean, and I missed being near you. Now I miss just talking with you and joking, and venting, and smiling at each other because we made each other happy. One day soon, hopefully. 

You’re probably going to shake your head if you ever see this because you said you don’t want me reeling over things, or thinking deeply into our conversations. But I don’t think this counts because we had the conversations, I understand them now, but now I’m sorting through my feelings. And hell, this is giving me tons to write about! So suck it, I’m going to keep writing, haha. It’s also helping me work through everything. It’s true what they say about writing being theraputic.

Here’s a picture of a plate of tater tots I refrained from eating so I can beat you in our weight loss challenge that you haven’t started yet, but that I started back in January. One of the pictures I sent to you in the last few months.

Something in your eye… (3/11/20)

It’s a strange knot that appears behind your throat. It’s just a slight tingle, making it hard to swallow. Your chest fights the inhale like a stubborn gatekeeper causing a tremble while your lungs want to cave in and expand at the same time. At the deepest part of your inhale, your eyes shut tight with the weight of the world on your brows. The spot behind your nose itches, like the feeling before a sneeze. But instead of a sneeze, your eyes flood, and your throat feels dry and collapses in on itself. From corner to corner, no matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut, the tears make their way into the cold air. Sometimes it stays there, clinging to your eyelashes, till they evaporate into the void. Sometimes they take a trip down your face. From the outside corner they cascade down your jawline, sometimes reaching your chin. From the inside corner, they hug tightly to your nose and sometimes make it to your lips. Other times, from either corner, they find their way onto the floor, or your pillowcase. I find it best to let things happen, and feel the things you’re feeling. Still, “there’s no crying in baseball!” But I stopped playing baseball 19 years ago.