If I Lay My Heart on the Table

Sometimes I wonder if I get in-depth enough here when I write. More often than not, I present to you my stories, full of analogies and zany emotional grievances.

But beneath my ribs of steel lies a heart, ready to burst at any given moment; a heart that murmurs nervously more than it beats steadily.

Too often I can't find a happy medium: should I allow myself to give into everything that turns those murmurs into heavy beats, or should I keep it in a cage where it's safe from anything that could touch it?

These are the questions that weigh on my mind. Because how do we know that we are ready to dive in and let go of the things we fear about love and the like? I can preach all day about having fun and not taking things too seriously, but maybe that is really my problem.

I haven't taken myself seriously. My friends can attest to this. I haven't totally considered how the actions of those I allow to walk by my side affect how I love.

But what if I did put my heart out on the table? What would someone say? Someone may examine and see the scar tissue of loves lost and not totally healed. Another might see the stitches I've haphazardly sewn myself because I was too stubborn to let anyone else touch the injured part of me. One person would definitely see the burns which became dark spots, the slowest to recover.

There is a lot going on in my heart, and I assure you not all of it is negative. The parts of my heart that have been hurt the most are the ones I've tried to heal by myself. And the parts of it that are still full of life, are what I want to keep the safest. Those parts are innocent and should not be punished for having good intentions. But experience tells you that exposing your heart means letting people treat it like a specimen...to let it be examined and discarded when it's no longer of use.

Falling in love is scarier to me than jumping out of a perfectly fine aircraft. I walk by myself at midnight and have little fear about what will happen to me. But to expose the ugly, dark side of myself? That's horrifying. There's a struggle when you understand that you can see the bright side of everything. However bright it may be, the light can blind you from seeing what's underneath. That's what happened with CSB when he told me we never were. That's what happened when I decided to continue seeing OGM even though I knew he would move.

I can be selfish and flakey. Rude and obnoxious. Inconsiderate and foolish. Needy and angry. Who wants to see that? I don't like wearing my heart on my sleeve. People who do annoy me. They can't bend and adjust to obstacles. As for me? I try to take the most logical approach to love.

What?

The logical way. Tactical. Having a Plan B in case Plan A doesn't work. To consider all the horrible things that could happen, and creating a mental survival plan because experience taught me that I will get hurt, and I will need to learn to stitch the wounds. Bandages unravel, so I must learn to cauterize.



(Source: zenpencils.com)

Every time I feel my heart try to rattle its cage, I think about the next best way to repair it. Because I know I will let it happen. Believe me, I know it's not the best way to live. And then there's this school of thought: fall in love because it happens naturally, not because the opportunity appears to present itself. Fall in love with the person, not with the act itself.

These thoughts wake me at night. Hell, they prevent me from sleep at night. The difficult part is to dismiss that I am the common denominator in why my relationships crash and burn. The end result is always the same: I learn and move on. Sometimes the end isn't so horrible. Other times, it's devastating.

I'm prattling on because what it comes down to is the biggest question: how much should I hold back from falling for someone? One of the mothers I adopted sympathized with me one time. She told me she falls fast, hard, and at one point very often. I tend to do the same. In an effort to protect what's left of my heart, I hold back. I put on this front that I can move on. It's not me, cupcake...it's you. My time is valuable and I don't want to waste it falling in love only to hit the ground hard. I've done it enough. I don't know how much more my heart can handle. I don't know how many other hands I can trust to touch it.

My burlesque mama is of a different school of thought: enjoy it, but never settle. If I enjoy it, that's how I get blinded by the deceptive rays of something good. It's this game I tend to lose very often.

And then there's TD.

• The way he kissed my shoulder the first time while he was capturing video of my dog acting like a fool for her toy.
• The way he melted into my back while we watched TV
• The way he leaned over, closer to hold my hand while we lay on the couch
• The way he traced my back with his hands and I felt a surge charge all the way from my toes and up to my lips where I met his

And then...

• The way I melt into his arms when he reaches for a hug
• The way I found the perfect nook on his shoulder to lay so I felt safe in his arms
• The way I look forward to hearing him tell me sweet dreams every night
• The way I smile when he asks me to let him know I walked safely into my home and my doors are locked
• The way I felt when he smiled at my excitable reaction to the end of my favorite show

It has been one week of this. Not to say that anyone should put a time stamp to matters of the heart, but when your heart is healing, it knows what it needs for nourishment. I wasn't expecting it this soon, and especially not from him.

Again it's just the way he is so open with me. By showing me he can be comfortable giving the caring part of himself to me this soon, it's like he's giving myself permission to do the same. I guess that's how it's supposed to be...

With bated breath and one eye open, I find the key to the cage. The hesitation is still there, but my hand is holding the key, resting in the lock, almost ready to release it into someone else's hands where I can trust that they will help me heal it so I don't have to do it on my own for awhile...

Reality

In my utter moments of optimism with The Trainer, I have failed to mention one thing:

Much like OGM, he is a nomad. His job is contractual, forcing him to move around the country.

He has a meeting tomorrow discuss his time here.

While I am an eternal optimist, he has the sunny outlook of an Eeyore. Even when we talk I have to remind him of ways it could constantly be worse. I told him not to worry because why worry about what you don't know.

Sound advice I rarely take myself.

Being the usual sunny me, I forced the "I hope it goes well" line. Translation: I hope you stay. I was forward enough to ask "if you had your way, what would happen?"

I would change a few things, but I want to stay here. I've had one year contracts and have never wanted to stay with them.

...Promising. And vague. The smitten kitten in me hopes that I'm part of why he would like to stay in one place longer than a year.

I'm melting. I don't know if I should be happy or devastated. I never want to get in the way of upward mobility...but I am ready to settle.

I said it: I am ready to settle.

I'm not willing to give up the strongest parts of me. I'm not ready to put my feet up in stirrups and pop out ankle biters. That's not what I mean by settle. I mean...I'm ready to find the following:

- A hand willing to fit perfectly into my own
- A challenger who cheers me on in my hardest days
- A tender set of moments where I know that he's with me too
- The reassurance that we are in it together

There's a time in a single girl's life where she's done clicking dating profiles, chatting up/avoiding strangers in bars, waiting to see if her married friends have unmarried guy friends. I never said I wanted something immediate.

I think the word I'm looking for is stability. I have enough chaos in my life; other than my dog, who's going to take a moment to enjoy this chaos with me?

We still (supposedly) have a date on Friday. I can hear it in the voices of my friends. I know they don't want me to get hurt. They avoid this conversation with me because they know I've gone through enough trouble with guys and they're bracing for impact.

But...what is love (and the like) without the risk?

We spend so much time wasting away, worrying about where we'll be, who'll be there, and if it is all just and right. As for myself, I've spent too much time not worrying and giving all I have and getting little to nothing in return. It's such a fine line to walk.

Is it wrong to close my eyes, inhale a staggered breath, release the worry, and to just let my vulnerabilities go? There's no doubt; I have a lot to offer, which is why dating is so frustrating for me. The moment it seems that someone out there can be that hand, can challenge and cheer, will hold me and show me he is there, it all falls like sand through the fingertips. And sometimes I wonder if it's because, in many ways, I hold on too tight.

I bet this is how Freddie Mercury felt when he asked the desperate question: Can anybody find me somebody to love?


If you want me to be 100% truthful about it all, I want something special to happen between me and The Trainer. I cannot deny what my heart is feeling lately. This is the slowest I've ever taken anything in the dating world. The fact that I'm more excited about a first kiss is so new to me. By now, as in my past has shown, my toothbrush would be on his bathroom sink.

For now I am Amelie, once again melting into a puddle of longing and uncertainty. I could pray to things I believe and I don't believe, cross my fingers, eyes, and toes, but it won't change anything that happens tomorrow.

"Describe Your Dating Fears in 1,200 Words or Less"

Online dating sites would hit a gold mine if they encouraged you to lay out your fears about online dating and dating in general. 

I got to hand it to men who attempt it. You're not like women in the sense that you don't know how to talk about yourselves, usually because women are constantly cutting you off. Or that you just never have to unless it's for an interview. I'm sure they wonder what's worse: trying to create the damn profile or having the guts to make that first move.

I recently went on a road trip with my best friend to celebrate the victory of conquering a chaotic work week. I adore my her quite simply for the fact that I don't know if anyone else could put up with my dramatic nature. Seriously, give that girl a medal for being so patient. She drove a whole two hours and listened to me gripe and overanalyze everything about online dating.

And I do mean everything. I want to punch myself for saying the following things:

"Well, do you ever see me standing next to a guy in a polo?"
"Why would a man think he's datable with usernames that include pimp, 69, or bro in it?"
"What am I? A mail order Asian bride? Why do the 45-year-old men in douche gear want me?"
"I don't see myself settling down. But I really want to. A dream is a wish your heart makes."

I assure you that none of these questions or statements were alcohol induced. The fact that I wasn't inebriated when I said those things saddens. It's difficult to admit the things in love you know you want, and the things you aren't sure of quite yet. Nobody likes being lonely. I conquered my fear of fire, but not that of loneliness. And I worry about rushing into the arms of another man. It's still worth noting that I kept my guard up pretty high with OGM. And as far as OGM is concerned, my gut was telling me that while I can't have him for long, it is possible for me to be with a good man.

So as I'm slouched in the seat of my best friend's car, salvaging the remnants of the first Slurpee of the day, I chattered on about how I feel about my date with Academy Boy. It was essentially a series of "what ifs." The worst part is that I know that is is just a date. My best friend kept rolling her eyes and telling me that I should just have fun. You don't have to tell me twice! Still, at 26-years-old when most of my peers are planning both wedding and baby showers, it's difficult not to want to date because you want to find your partner, not just to try on men like their pairs of jeans.

I never thought I would need to have a particular conversation with my best friend this soon in my life, let alone in a car with bright red sugar stains on my teeth. The topic came up of what would happen if things went particularly well and I ended up a Navy wife.

But then this whole concept of "settling" came up again. Would I be okay to pack up and move? Can I just up and leave everything I know behind and often? What about having children and exposing them to this kind of life? All of these questions were followed up with my inner child screaming obscenities. I can't possibly grow up. I won't fit in with Navy wives because I don't scrapbook ( I assume they scrapbook and only make babies. Someone prove me wrong). However, I thought that this would be a challenge...and I adore those. I would find a thrill in being forced out of my comfort zone, trying to meet new friends and learn about a new town. But I'd be forced to be lonely again...right?

One of the last conversations I had with OGM was about moving I told him that I honestly and truly believed that the only way I'll move is when and if I get married. Having that conversation with OGM made me feel like I didn't have enough ambition in my life, whereas he is willing to be a cowboy and travel where all the cattle thrives. Ever since I moved out of my ex's home (and awful home situation) a few years ago, my main focus has been about me having fun and taking in all that life has to offer.

Is this Dating Darwinism? Am I destined to not find the right man because I'm not aggressive enough in the concrete jungle? Do my strange hobbies indicate a lack of focus so strong that my ability to even think about being barefoot and pregnant just isn't possible? Can men sense that and run away to the next girly and fertile being they see? It's obvious that one of my dating woes is that men see me and don't think "long term love of my life."

Yes, that is what I want. I want what every girl wants: a man to look at me in the face, tongue ring, awkward jokes, crazy hobbies, snide comments, and all and still see a girl he can take home to mom and give flowers to just because. It really does hurt that I don't get that impression from men. I am more than just punch lines and quick-wit sarcasm. I can bake and I also enjoy wearing pearls and cardigans in addition to studs and leather jackets.

And here I have a date with someone who thinks I'm interesting and important enough to email back. A man who studied engineering at a prestigious military school, who's working hard to be a pilot. I am but a picture in a catalog, filled with countless other women who find it difficult to meet men organically. Underneath the surface of the girl cheerily tying on a pair of ice skates, is a girl scared to put her guard down because she fears no one will want to be the ice to her fire. Someone who fears she won't be good enough for him or someone like him.

But I will meet with Academy Boy, chopsticks in hand, ready to plot zombie defenses. I will introduce him to boba smoothies and perhaps he can entertain me with academy tales. All the while, in the back of my head will be the fears: rejection, not being good enough to mention to mom, being too odd even though I will be myself. A girl like me typically doesn't end up with men like him.

And then a glimmer of hope. I read this on his online dating profile and it made me feel better. It made me feel as if maybe I shouldn't be too quick to judge or over analyze. Trust me, I do both quite well.

"Don't worry if you're interested a little and the complete opposite of what I ranted about above because no one knows who they might end up with in the end anyway, right?" 

Wow. If he's right about that, let's see if he's right about me. 

When a ship sets sail...

So I've been noticeably absent. Don't get me wrong. I never said I wasn't single anymore. I just happened to be distracted by OGM. And then...reality hit. 

So, a couple weeks ago he texted me that he had something to tell me. I said, ok, so just tell me. Apparently then was not the time. Okay, ladies and gentleman. I have an annoucement: Now is either a bad time or it's the only time. Choose wisely! I digress...flash forward to a few days ago.

"I move this Saturday"

So...September isn't it then, I thought? He followed this heavy-sighed statement with "we shouldn't continue." Which, again, is fine. I think I've been prepared for this. In fact we had quite the routine:

- Sundays were days catching up on a certain favorite TV show
- Tuesdays were more of the same. He'd make us dinner
- Thursdays were spent drinking and laughing
- Friday we may go out somewhere

This, coupled with work, is why I have been quiet on the Single Girl front. I think, I believe, we had to savor the moment. Live the present. Be together because we knew this couldn't happen after he left. In his own words, "he needed something good in his life." And believe me, I'm honored by this. It's really sweet.

When he would hold me late at night, brushing the hair away from my face, sighing deep into my neck, I could tell that he didn't want to be alone on this ship. A lonely captain, weakly grabbing control, and venturing out into new territory, unsure of what he'll find. I will be there in some shape or fashion with him. I am there with him. But that's because he chooses to.

Believe it or not, I'm not heartbroken. I prepared for this. It stings a little bit, but I have made great strides to emotionally detach myself from falling *gasp* in love. And yet this boy confuses the life out of me.

Who follows "we can't continue" with "I want to see you again" or "do you really have to leave" or "what about seeing you Saturday or Sunday." Don't get me wrong. This isn't just about sex. Yes, sex is a part of it. In fact, this is the closest I've ever felt to knowing what it feels like to make love. However, I have continuously come to the same conclusion ever since he (we?) decided to stop after he moves.

I will feel this way with someone else

And that has what has kept me sane the last month. It's not a mantra. It's a fact. I know I will feel this way with another person. It's like my best friend reminded me: maybe this is some higher deity's way of saying "you can feel a mutual emotional connection with a good man." And this is my conscience following that up with "and you will feel it again." 

I adore OGM. He is truly a good man, a good person, and he treated me well and made me happy. But I can and will move on. This is his ship. He has chosen to go into the great wide open without me at his side. And I can't blame him. No one ever wants to feel held back, nor does a really good person ever want to hold someone back from fulfilling, what they believe, some destiny they need to seize.

The more I continue with my single girl adventures, the more I understand my own destiny. I know what it is I want in a relationship and from a man that I potentially want as my partner. However, I do know that I may not need it right now. And that's okay too.

In the interim, I will lift my own sails and venture into my own unknown. Besides, this wouldn't be the first time me and OGM have parted ways. And it's not the first time we have reunited. In life, there are many possibilities. In love, when you experience these possibilities, it's amazing what you learn about your own heart...and his.

Besides...I may have another date soon. This guy? Apparently attended the Naval Academy and asked me out for a discussion about zombie outbreak defense over milkshakes. Did I ever tell you I don't have a type?

Anchors Aweigh!

Au revoir, mi amor

That one Moment

When you are holding each other
Feeling each others' warmth
Sharing soft kisses
Not wanting to let go
Tracing each others' shadows in the darkness with your eyes
Silent other than the sound of content sighs
Along with the sound of hearts breaking and growing
Fingers intertwined
Hair falling over your face
His hand pushing it aside
His chest on your back
Lips on your shoulder
Sheets like a loose cocoon
The rising of two bodies
The falling of two hearts
Three words you want to say
But know you simply can't
And the three words you say
But simply don't want to

But it's not any easier than getting up and walking away.
In fact it's just as difficult.

The Lift before the Fall

Sorry for the lack of posting. I was busy having a life and dating I suppose.

And with that, the title says it all: the lift before the fall. I am in a world of hurt.

OGM is moving in September.

Very few words can describe this news. The most notable of the few is "heartbreak." I find One Good Man, and this isn't fair. Once again, our timing is absolutely horrible. We have decided, at this point, not to continue after he leaves. Of course that is easier said than done. Rest assured, we both have feelings invested at this point. And with this dizzying teacup ride, we will see what happens.

He told me earlier this week and I think I handled it well. I had to remind him this wasn't up to me. I wanted to continue seeing him. I suppose the call it summer love for a reason, right? Last night, he completely broke down to me about the hardships he's had the past year and he said the kindest words I've heard for the longest time.

You're amazing.

That's what makes this transition even harder for me. He is such a good man to me. Warning me that he's leaving. Feeling bad that this conversation even had to happen. This is the worst kind of heartbreak because what we have has a deadline. So add "not fair" to the way I'm feeling right now.

My best friend was saying that maybe this is God's way of saying that I can have a special kind of relationship like this...but maybe this isn't right quite yet. Again, it doesn't make it hurt any less. My throat is closing in, my chest quivering, and my body in general is sulking at this news.

And last night, he laid on my chest as we comforted each other. I have to remember that I am not on this blinding rollercoaster by myself. He said more words to me that didn't make this terrible news easier to hear.

Your heart is beating really fast. It's called I'm falling hard for you and the bottom is going to be ripped from under me. Well...that's what I wanted to say. Instead, I played coy and told him that it's beating fast for number of reasons. As we stared at each other, knowing the difficult months that lay ahead, he pulled me closer. His hazel eyes pierced my heart once again.

I know this isn't the usual uplifting and humorous post of which you all are accustomed. But what's dating without a little letdown, right? In a perfect situation, he would realize I'm the reason to stay and we can carry on talking about each other's heartbeats and telling jokes. Alas no situation is perfect. And all I am left with is this feeling of being lonely with him. Most would just say "stop seeing him and move on."

But it's difficult to move on when you both finally recognize something great. And that is the risk of falling in love. There are no easy decisions. There are only sacrifices, big and small, and figuring out how to embrace the risks and savor the moments you have together. I don't know what will happen now. Oh time...how you continue to punish me.

The hardest part is knowing you have something great, and being forced to let it go.