Focus, focus, what's go the focus?

When did I begin to want to be a housewife. Cuz that's what I feel like most days. I just wanna meet someone and settle down. Is this the deep seeded midwestern-ism, sitting inside of me? I remember a Micah who while he was very interested in finding a partner in life, at the same time primarily cared about his career. And now it almost feels the reverse. It feels like while I would like to get acting jobs, the main thing that I want in life is a partner. Someone who I can spend my life with. Why can't I find a better balance between the two things? Are these two aspects of my life that are destined to be out of balance for the rest of it? To be Carrie Bradshaw for a moment, I couldn't help but wonder, is it possibly to be completely fulfilled in your career and your love life. I guess that if you were at least looking at most people the answer would seemingly be yes. And I guess yes, there have been instances where I was fulfilled within both areas of my life. But in an ultimate purposey kinda way... I dunno. It's interesting to look at my parents as models. Mom has never really had any TRUE career ambitions. I think that ultimately she has seen her role as a caretaker and or housewife. She never saw herself as booksmart, though she is a pretty damn smart woman. She and my dad met in college, dated for two years and got married. The career baton in their relationship has always belonged to my father. He literally never dated anyone till my mom. She was his first girlfriend. How amazing is that? He underwent some pretty crazy career stuff though. Initially he was going to be a pastor, but didn't, until he reached seminary, realize that he didn't want to do that. At the same time though, it's never seemed as though he compromised his integrity when comes to jobs. And the one job he got that he couldn't stand (for more than an hour) he quit (for the record, it was a Wendy's). But my dad was in school till I was 15. He was I believe, 45. Does this mean that I am doomed to not REALLY know or really settle into a career until I'm middle aged? I know that I am my own person, but at the same time, you have to wonder (again with the Bradshaw) how much our parents and their relationships really inform ours. Well, the caffeine is kicking in, and so the introspection is leaving me... but I'm sure I may have more thoughts on this soon...

Love is...

Finally, from my guy, something that I can get behind:

Peppermint Patty: What do you think love is, Chuck?

Charlie Brown: Well, years ago, my dad owned a black 1934 two-door sedan. There was this really cute girl. She used to go for rides with him in his car. And whenever he'd call for her, he would always hold open the car door for her. After she got in and he had closed the door, he'd walk around the back of the car to the driver's side. But before he could get there, she would reach over and press the button, locking him out. Then she'd just sit there and wrinkle her nose and grin at him. That's what I think love is.

Yup.

What I Lose: An Essay Poem

Break-up’s suck. If there’s a universal truth that one could agree on, I feel like this might be it. I have no delusions that I am special on this front. Everybody hurts, bleeds, cries, aches, vomits (emotionally and physically). And while I realize that this Jane Austen truth, that a break-up is a colossal, profound loss of a partner and a lover, to me it’s much more and much different. It’s all the little deaths. Tiny mini dream deaths. Keeping the bed warm death. Cuddle up to me death. A your face is the first thing that I see in the morning and it makes me thrill, smile and be at peace death. A let’s make summer plans death. A valentine dies. You’re my automatic plus one no more. I cease to communicate with you with every whim or thought I have because, we don’t do that anymore, because it’s a little death. Tell Mr. Sondheim he got it wrong. Every Day A Little Death? Try every hope a little death. Every thought a little death. Your smile kills me. And what happens to the words you’ve said to me? Do those die too? Have I ceased to make you safe? Maybe to me that’s the biggest mystery. Where do the feelings go? Do you just wake up one day and think, okay, I’m done? Do they dissipate? Evaporate? Rhyme intended. Inside joke intended. How is it that no one has these answers? We’re supposed to be logical and practical about these things which logic and practicality do not apply. We’ve been in each others lives. Known each other intimately. And I hate to live in a world where that fact doesn’t exist. When I’m just a friend to you. Can’t we be friends and former significant others? Friends and former lovers? Again, with the intended rhyme. I don’t have a problem with friends. I have a problem with being friends with no history. Do I hope that you’re having these same thoughts and feelings too? Sadly, yes. Not because I wish you pain, because that is the LAST thing that I would ever wish you. But because if you feel these little deaths too, then I know that I’ve touched you. To me, that is what’s most important.

Love.

I deserve it. I realize that this might be a no brainer, but sadly, I don't know if I've always believed it. Hell, I still don't know if I do. But the fact of the matter is, I recognize this now. This is I GUESS what one refers to as a break through... I think that until I believed this, perhaps I wasn't ready for it to happen. But I am now. The thing that's awful is that obviously, as I have had much proof already, it's probably going to suck. But I can't let that stop me. (CMW quote...) I am lovable, and capable. God loves me, so why can't someone else? It's gonna happen. The other thing that I realize is that not everything that happens is permanent. Optimism is not dead in me. I need to embrace that more. BUT I DON'T need to feel guilty about being sad. Just because someone has it worse than me does not trivialize my pain, or make it any less real or relevant. I can't imagine the specific pain that someone is going through, but I can imagine pain. For sure. So I don't need to feel guilty for feeling sad, or having to talk about the pain that I'm going through, because it's just as real and as relevant as other things, just in different ways.

How's that for cryptic, deep, and internalized? :)

I deserve to be loved.

An Angsty Interlude...

I'm fundamentally sad right now. Like it's my norm, my place of zero, the place from which all other things start. Like really, when people ask me how I am, I should reply, "Sad". The problem is, no one wants to actually hear a real answer when they ask that question. They just want you to say good, and to move on with their day.

I'm writing this at 2:52 in the Am. The reason why? So that I will fall asleep and we tired enough to not wake up too early tomorrow. When I'm depressed, I often wake up at 7:30/8 every morning. The goal for tomorrow? To sleep in.

I hate this post. It was supposed to be all poetic. But here's the moral. My heart has been broken, no, shattered. AGAIN. I don't know how I'm going to move on with my life. I just don't know. I"m fundamentally sad. It's all the little dreams that died that make this especially hard. Okay, I think I might actually get to sleep. I hope I see him there, in good circumstances. That's how I'd like to remember him.