This Fish Needs A Bicycle

i'm an idiot

Haven't been sleeping lately.

Find that when 10:00 rolls around, seem to catch this really aggravating second wind. So, have taken advantage of current insomnia bout to start writing again. Now, instead of finding self surfing the net to pass the sleepless hours, actually sit myself down at 10:00 and pound away at the keyboard, being productive. It's also the only time to catch up with Smart Assed Sibling who, much like me keeps the oddest hours. She calls me “Face” and I call her “Gay” and our conversations are easily the most hilarious of my day.

Last night, started thinking about two failed relationships and suddenly, nearly two years after the decay of one, find myself feeling embarrassed and foolish because came to the realization that -- I’m an idiot.

D
At the time, I blamed him for everything. Called him a drunk, explosive and demanding. All of which he was, but those were all the things that drew me to him initially. Out on the town after work many nights, throwing back drinks, laughing – life of the party. Passionate about his career, his family… life in general. More than ten years my senior (he was 35), he wanted something meaningful, permanent and committed. He told me I lit up every room I entered. He loved looking at me, hearing what I had to say and seemed to notice everything small I did. He was like no one I’d ever been with. And I threw myself into it full force. For a while, anyway. Months went by and it just got old – the drinking, the temper tantrums, the getting upset with me wanting spend time without him. Wanting to spend more and more time without him. I started being evasive and cold and completely uncommunicative. And then, one day, I just broke it off. In the office. He was furious. I attacked him for all the things he’d done to make me unhappy, feeling perfectly justified in everything I was saying. I made him out to be the bad guy in every way.

J
Two weeks later, I met J and fell completely and insanely in love with someone who didn’t give a rat’s ass what I said, didn’t care what I thought, and would barely glance at me when I entered a room. J wasn’t a drunk, though. No, drugs are more his thing. So with J, I took a whirlwind tour of the high life – anything from pot to Ecstasy – where everything became more exciting and… superficial. I didn’t read anymore. My two-book-a-week habit became a two-movie-a-week habit. J doesn’t read. Hates it. Instead, we bonded over movies. I lost a lot of weight. The girls at his shows made me nervous with their perfect bodies and their perky tits, clamoring to be “with the band” and so I became, or tried to become, the perfect vision of a rock star’s arm decoration. Everything was so very shallow.

But love is love and lust is lust, and when present in unbalanced amounts, the metabolism of your soul slows.

The last 9 months have been all about getting back on track. All about change. And although I’m dying to fit back into that really great pair of jeans, I’m more concerned about being balanced -- being better at my job, changing my relationships with my family members, learning to be more firm in who I am.

And maybe I’ll just buy a new pair of jeans.