Chapter Two – Bad luck? - Awful luck.

Every year on Valentine’s Day, and I mean EVERY YEAR, I would inevitably stop dating the person I was with. I mean, I would the dating or even “talking” to someone, then something happens. I thought it was because Valentine’s Day is a fake holiday made up by card companies and I sent off this vibe that I hated it and guys picked that up… but now I think it was just because I had bad luck.

This Valentine’s Day my boyfriend, Ray, bought me tickets to see this country singer named Bobby Clifford. I had never heard of him but apparently he was well known in the country world and Ray was into country.

I hated country music, but I didn’t want to discourage him after he already bought the tickets so I decided to have a really nice time with him. I mean, it’s the company that matters, not what you do, right?

It’s Valentine’s Day night, and I’m not exactly sure how these things work, but isn’t Valentine’s Day supposed to be romantic alone time?

Ray’s version of romantic alone time was having nothing to eat before the concert at 7pm (and I’m literally hungry every 3 or 4 hours, like a child), getting picked up by two other couples who were already drunk, and cramming in the back seat of the tinniest Nisan anyone has ever seen. We parked and I walked half a mile in my beautiful new high-heel shoes. That means the fake leather and plastic weren’t broken in yet so I had the gift of blisters.

Once we got there, after we pushed through all the crowds (I hate crowds), I had the wonderful pleasure of sitting next to a couple who were incredibly inappropriate with their hands and then, in the middle of the night, the guy in back of us split beer all over my seat. Of course, I didn’t notice, and I sat down. Yummy. Oh, and did I mention, I broke my phone so I had no way to call anyone in case of an emergency? I was completely trapped.

After we got home, I was hungry, exhausted because I had no sleep the night before, smelt like rotting beer and all I wanted to do was go to bed. But, of course, it was Valentine’s Day and he just paid tons of money to take me to a “great” concert, so we did what most couples do… I’m sure you can fill in the rest.

Then I realized that my womanly gift hadn’t come when it was supposed to. Bad luck? - Awful luck.

Chapter One - The Beginning (Sort Of)

If I started talking about the very beginning of my journey then I would have to start before my birth, but I am not going back that far. I mean, it’s just too much to explain, so I’ll start somewhere else.

It took me three years to get my Associates degree, which isn’t very good when you think about it. I just graduated and I took the summer and went to California to do a research program. It was a blast traveling across the country alone but I had to come back to real life some time, and when I did I realized how bad by procrastination really was. I mean, getting my associates in three instead of two years showed a little procrastination, but I always had reasons. Like, I needed to work to pay for my books, car payment, car insurance, cell phone bill, 25% tuition (because I had a 75% scholarship), gas, food and rent. I rented a cheap room from this old couple I knew because my parents kicked me out, but that story’s for another time and place.

I wanted to keep going to school because I had my scholarship and I didn’t want to lose it, so when I got back from California I applied to StateU. But, I applied a week too late and was accepted for the next year. Basically, I had an entire five months of no school. This was not good as I get bored very easily, so I moved in with my Dad and got a new, full time, assistant manager job paying way more than I could imagine.

This wasn’t the greatest of all ideas because my Dad is a closet drunk, and I don’t put up with drunks very well, so he kicked me out. Really, I kicked myself out.

That’s where my life began. I was finally free to breath. I started going to school online, I had a brand new boyfriend who was wonderful, a small but great group of friends and a little room that I rented from a lady who was incredibly friendly and easy to live with, Bonnie. The only issues I had were work related, no big deal. I thought I could conquer the world, but on my 22nd birthday things started getting weird.

Working Title

At 21 everything seems new and fresh. Besides the legally being able to drink, you are able to call yourself a true adult, and that’s what I was doing, calling myself a true adult. I was moving out, on my own, and I had everything figured out. I had the perfect job, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect place to live, my car was running (which is all I could hope for), and my classes for school were awesome. And when I say awesome, I mean awesome.

But that’s when I should have known, you can’t have everything you want. I mean, there’s always a flaw, a misjudgment. I was only 21, how could I have known it would turn out in disaster? Seriously? It’s like the gods were against me or something, no, they were against me, that’s what the fortune teller said.

I know it’s dorky to go to a fortune teller, but I was desperate. I had to know what was about to happen. Had I not gone to Esmarelda I would have be royally screwed…. Royally.

Maybe I should start from the beginning…

One Tiny Tight Rope

This will be my last post of love. Love is a sensitive subject. Every person has something to say about it and something they think is right about it. Everyone experiences love and it is so difficult to define that poets turn to nature and artists turn to vibrant colors.

My experiences with love have been all across the board and of course I think I’m right, doesn’t everyone?

When I started writing on this particular subject I had no idea it would affect me so greatly. I am raw with feelings, good and bad. I am starting to see this thin line that I keep trying to get onto while writing about love and all I am doing is jumping right over it or falling off. Let me tell you, falling off of an imaginary line is not a walk in the park.

If I could say one more thing about love, it would be the following:
I could search all day, every day for “the one”; but until I stop and breathe he will never find me. In the mean time, I’m just going to work on breathing.

Stupid Ex

I’m opposed to many things but love isn’t one of them. Just because I talk about the difficulties of dating for a woman like me doesn’t mean I am against men. I love men. I could go into more detail, but I really don’t think it would be appropriate.

As it stands, and I will make this public knowledge, I have been in a relationship, fallen in love, trusted someone, and been burned. Do you know what I learned from that relationship?

I learned what most people should already know, but don’t. Trust yourself and love yourself. If you don’t do those two things you will have absolutely no success in relationships. None.

It’s simple, if you don’t love who you are then how can you possibly love the person standing right next to you? How can you even see the person sitting across from you? How can you see yourself? You can’t. You can’t see anything. You are blind, and that’s not good when it comes to love because love is already a hindrance to sight.

Let me see if I can break this down. The man I thought I wanted was tall, dark and handsome. Fun and easy to get along with. Happy and driven and works hard, and he needed to be smart but not necessarily educated. I wanted my dream man to have a passion for something and to be dedicated to his family. And, guess what, I found that. But, do you know what it came with?

The man I thought I would marry one day ended up threatening his own life, having no back bone and doing only what his mother says, having incredible anger issues, and controlled my every move. He was manipulative and talked about our sex life with his buddies. Side note, ladies, if a guy talks about your sex life with other people besides you then it’s a huge red flag. It took me three months to realize that he wasn’t the one for me and I decided to dedicate a year of my life to me. Concentrating on my studies as well as my mental and emotional development and well being.

But now, I am confident and I love who I am and I don’t want to lower my standards just to be with a guy. Things are clearer for me, but the difficulty of my past and present give obstacles for my future. (See what I did there? Clever, no?)

Don’t get caught up in the perfect guy, get caught up in the imperfect you and a guy will come along that will love you for exactly who you are. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself every morning when I wake up.

Stop Fixing Everything

In accordance with some readers, I am well versed in the ways of “daddy problems.” And, they are right. You never get rid of them; once they exist they always exist.

But let me explain to you what happens to the common woman. (Notice I didn’t say the common woman with daddy problems)

I had a friend, let me call her Leslie. Leslie and I worked together and went to school together. She was a few years younger than I but a very smart, lively, fun and outgoing person.

She met a man online and she fell in love with him and after her graduation she was going to marry him. Her father was abusive, her mother left her when she was a small child, and her older brother used her; she needed to move out and marrying this man was her way out.

Leslie was incredibly excited and she and I would take regular trips to the mall to look for cheap wedding gowns that were her style. A year later, she got married.

I wish I could say that we still speak, but I would be lying.

She once had a facebook debate with me about politics. She claimed that Obama (the President) was a communist dictator and all of America is going to hell for electing such a terrible president. Natually, I assumed she was republican (which was different from when I knew her 2 years prior) but that wasn’t the case.

You see, her husband believes that all the presidents are against God and so she is against government, because government is against God.

The problem is that now she has changed so much that she is no longer the person she used to be. Happy and fun loving.

So, what’s the difference between she and I?

I still express who I am and I refuse to change for someone else as I refuse to try to change someone else.

Daddy problems are around and women will never admit to them… let them be and maybe they can be happier. There is nothing wrong with a woman who doesn’t trust a man because of the past they have, they are not broken… DON’T TRY TO FIX THEM.

A Whole New Level Of Sad

Taking a chance on love… it sounds so sappy and gross, honestly. I mean, really? It’s just like “a leap of faith” or “falling in love is like falling”… stupid little catch phrases.

But, the thing is, these catch phrases ring true.

Last year I was in a relationship and I honestly thought, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we would get married. Then I dumped him…

Santo made an interesting comment to my last blog (and I’m sorry if I called you out for making a comment… I hope I didn’t just scare you away.) He said that I need to just take a chance and stop making it impossible for men to like me. Great observation, but I do flirt and I don’t push them all away. I’m open to new possibilities but I also have some things that I need in a relationship.

The problem with women like me is that they have little or no men in their life that they can really trust. I constantly question whether or not my dad loves me. If I tell him certain things, will he still love me? What about my step dad also? He has acted like my father for 10 years, however, he still thinks that I could be doing more… I’m not good enough. Another reason to not trust men.

I have three options:
1. Date men like my dad or step dad
2. Become a cat lady and never marry
3. Do a whole bunch of research and learn how to have my own love

I want to go with option three, but its hard work, I have to change my entire thinking. You see my dilemma?