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...

It was a Walk in the Park...No, Really

I appreciate your patience, my dear readers. I always have a lot to say, and I know you've been waiting for the "First Date" story with The Trainer.

Let me map out that day for you. I had plenty of activity to keep my mind sane up until we were to meet that afternoon. It was Memorial Day, so while most people were sleeping in, nursing a hangover, or barbequing, I was lacing up my shoes to run a 5K. After abusing my body with my best race time (43:00. I'm slow but consistent), I also met my friend to join her Zumba class.

Here was how I justified all this: Let me get out my nervous energy out now, and have less to throw up out of anxiety later. I was treating my first date nervousness like a nuclear threat. I had an emergency text ready for my friends in case it went south, I made sure the date was close to home, and I made sure if anything did happen, I had witnesses.

It's also worth noting that is the first time in a while that I've been nervous for a date. I've been on bad first date after bad first date. I wasn't nervous for them. I think in retrospect, I treated them as rights of passage. Everyone should go through at least one bad first date just so it builds character.

So after soaking my cardio-weary body in a hot shower, I made genuine efforts to look and smell like a girl again. I remember my first date with OGM. I didn't know what I was going to wear and had a mini panic attack...or two. This time around, I knew what I was going to wear. That was the easy part. The hardest part was staying in the park long enough to wait for him and not feel the need to bolt.

So I sat there, near a fountain, hair somewhat done, sundress, and flip flops on, feeling the Florida heat cut evenly with little breeze. Then it hit me.

He's going to be here in five minutes.

It's hotter than a hooker in church.

We agreed to meet at a park.

I put in at least 5 miles today.

Suck it up, cupcake. You have that text ready to go.

I clutched my purse close, shoulders raised high. I felt his presence. Even if I had to, I wouldn't be able to send out the text on time. Slowly I stood from the fountain where I sat, thinking don't trip, don't trip, don't trip. With nervous smiles, we said hello, and he gave me a hug.

Truth be told, that was fairly unexpected. Welcome, but unexpected.

But then he wouldn't look at me. He was talking to me, but not looking at me. Maybe he was nervous...

After we started to loop the park, I thought I'd better give him a tour of the area. And if I kept walking, I could concentrate more on that than throwing up granola chunks. We started reciting our past conversations about movies, tv, music, anything we could muster.

Then the heat. Steam rising from concrete, bake-cookies-on-your-dashboard heat. Luckily there was an antique store with A/C. I figured it would make for an interesting study. What would he find here that he would talk about, and would it really make me reach for my phone.

As it turns out, we started talking a little more, finding pregnant pauses less and less. We started to venture around after cooling off, and found ourselves making our way into downtown. Side-by-side, not missing a beat in anything we talked about. It was only then that I was less concerned about where my phone was and more concerned about the heat. Luckily I checked later. My make-up held up. I was sweating enough to drown a village. I'm glad that wasn't an issue.

We started talking about our races. His eyebrow raised when I told him what I had done earlier that day. He started to feel bad about walking everywhere. What was another five miles, right?

Naturally all that activity made us hungry, so we ended up at one of the few places open on Memorial Day. It also happened to be where CSB and I went often. Luckily that didn't leave a bad stain. I still knew most of the servers there.

After The Trainer laughed at the fact that they were out of pretty much everything I usually get, I playfully slapped his arm. Oh, that's an arm. FOCUS! Then he said something that made me start liking him even more:

I think it's great. You have to think outside of the box.

Interesting. I have a challenge now. He's challenging me. It's a small way to do it, but nonetheless, he is giving me banter.

At any rate, we were still going on about everything under the sun. I caught one of the servers I knew peering over the bar taps, curiously staring at us. How many ways can you visually send I'm-on-an-awesome-date signals without being obvious? I turned around from our booth at the window and noticed the sun was gone. Woah....what time was it?

Six hours. Six hours later we were still there. I noticed my phone dinging. It turns out my best friend sent me rapid fire texts throughout the day.

Afternoon: Hope it goes well!

Early evening: Still going?

Late night: OMIGOD PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE STILL ALIVE!

I had to sneak a text back to her. She was pleased to know firstly that some crazed lunatic didn't kidnap me. And secondly, she was glad it was still going.

We both remembered we had dogs to tend to. So he took me back to my car at the park, and we sat under a lamp post. He asked if I was up for a second date. I told him I was free that week and thanked him for a wonderful time. Another hug and we went into our separate cars.

I was perfectly content at that very moment. My windows down, I turned on the radio, and sang along. He wanted to see me again...just as I wanted to see him too. These are the simple things people enjoy and relish. And I finally had my turn. My legs were weary, and my eyes were heavy.

My heart was pulsing like fireflies in the park.

Fear of Falling

My best friend laughed at me one recent morning and said in so many words, you are so gung ho with everything in your life, but why are you so cautious and weird when it comes to dating?"

I guess I must have had donut-glazed eyes and have been gliding around in a hazy disposition when she saw me. My heart is still a'flutter with the possibilities of my adventure with CSB. I find myself giggling when I usually have a boisterous, sea-parting laugh. I'm watching romantic French movies on my small 25-inch screen TV (reading subtitles is difficult on such a small screen!). I have been listening to songs that send lightning through my veins because I want to duplicate the way I feel whenever I'm with him (romantic heroin? Ugh, that sounds awful...). 

Let's be real here: I haven't exactly taken the straightest path to dating enlightenment. And I do think about it often. What DOES make me so scared of plunging all-in for love? Anything new is scary, and that's exactly what this experience is. We haven't had "that talk" of what we are, but I have made it clear that I'm not some girl he can just hook up with and leave me on the side, which he responded well to on more than one occasion. Breakfast after sex is usually a good indicator of being in some semblance of a relationship, right? I like where this is going, so why force it?


This is why falling in love is so scary for me. Of course I understand there is always a risk in love. Yes, that little, one syllable four-letter word:  

Love.

I've accepted that I have fallen in love with a man I barely know. How can my heart know that this is something good, but my brain is saying, slow your roll, homegirl? You're being foolish! Yet we can make love all night and go out to breakfast in the morning and continue to enjoy learning about each other. Do you understand how awesome that is? And because that's awesome, I'm afraid something as silly as my insecurity about this situation will ruin it. Does that make sense? Because I have to ask myself too if I'm in love with an idea I'm afraid of losing...

And he has this creepy Tom Cruise "I'm in love with Katie Holmes" crazy laugh. He smokes. But you know what? I don't care. I like him in spite of those things! We were at a club on a recent weekend and he was making me laugh with his adventurous spirit. It was crowded and when people would bump into him, he'd yell something absurd like WE'RE SWINGERS! I guess most girls would balk and run away, but I laughed! It was just so ridiculous. And we were outside talking to our friends and he was going to get a drink at the bar. I told him I'd stay out. He looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes and said, "come with me. It will be an adventure."

On another recent occasion, I received a text message from him. Here's how the conversation went:

Him: So your friend asked me about you tonight.
Me: Ok. Who?
Him: So and So's girlfriend
Me: Oh ok! Well, what did you say?
Him: That we're getting married next week. Best to thrive on awkwardness
Me: Be still my beating heart. Since this is short notice, I'll pick catering...the hot dog cart. Our friend can officiate as well!
Him: Haha! :)

Okay, I really, really may have met my match.  And I don't want this to end. He is this intriguing individual. And when I think back on how this all started it's such a wonderful story that I don't want to end. From watching afar, doe-eyed and scared to make my presence known, to asking a magician to pull the right card from his stack. From late night text messages to midnight rendezvous into a whole new world. From late mornings under a down comforter to waking up with him and the adorable dog who chewed my shoes.

I know often times in my posts I say that I'm ready for something serious, something real, not something to pass the time. But I have to laugh at my naiveity. Because it wouldn't be the first time a story started out as a simple series of amusing events, something "not serious." Over time, these events can continue to play out as a series of misadventures which become incredibly mundane, or they can develop into greater adventures that collect and resonate with time, creating new and wonderful beginnings. So far, I can say that we've both kept up with each other. There's that fun little thing called The Chase, and it's been fun playing hide and go seek with a worthy opponent.

When I was younger, I always lived by the words, "labels are for cans," and as I've gotten older, I applied this phrase to relationships. As a result, I've gotten burnt. The boys would either take advantage of my carefree nature and completely forget I exist, or they would see it as an opportunity to let me know they're only here for a good time. I also suppose that is another reason for my fears. But the funny thing is that I was super cautious with OGM and my ex before him. I didn't dare think, let alone utter the word "love" when each one invaded my life. Then this man enters my world, full speed, without a warning label, and I'm in love. You can't help who you fall for or how hard you fall, I've learned.

What a good friend did tell me is that I can control the way I handle it. I kind of laughed, but it's worth trying. Being cautious has saved me from being totally hurt, but it has kept me from something I so believe I deserve. So long as he continues to show up unexpectedly to see me at work, text me nonsense at midnight, and hold my hand on our way to a bar excursion, I won't complain. I will relish falling in love. If I can free fall 10,000 feet from a rickety plane with a stranger on my back, I can fall headfirst and heart first into this crazy little adventure called love.

Coffee Shops are Where the Magic Really Happens

I joked the other day that if I were a Playboy Centerfold, my bio sheet (yes, they really have those) would read "Bakes cupcakes, plays with fire, loves people watching, and defies convention."

Unless you're new to my blog, you understand that bad things happen when I try to date the normal way. When me and OGM started to date, it was nice because there were very little strings attached. It felt easy. That was also a problem. He didn't challenge me. He didn't leave me wanting more. That is, until he said he was leaving. You know what they say: You always want what you can't have.

So what, you ask, do coffee shops have to do with any of this? Well, this is a typical first date for many people. At best, you enjoy a good cup of coffee and conversation, along with ample people watching. At worst, you only spent $3.50 for a half-hour date that would've been worse had dinner been involved. For me, I've lived and seen all of these events. But I assure you, my coffee shop was much different than the your fancy la-ti-da coffee house that happen to be on every corner.

First of all, I am a fire performer who has done shows in front of the shop. There were LARPers who would meet once a week to continue a storyline. And the list of regulars reads like a very famous Billy Joel song. We frequently saw Frank the cop. The Foursquare Mayor was always in the house. Raven cruised by on his bicycle, clearly identified by his face tattoo. And most important to this whole story, Andy the Magician. Andy is one of those people I will always hold dear to my heart. It's difficult to find men with many stories to tell, salted and peppered with jokes, fatherly love, and sealed with magic. Andy is this man.

One recent evening, I was out on rollerblades testing them for fire tricks (for curious minds, it was not going well). I know Coffee Shop Boy rides a motorcycle: a beautiful orange Triumph. I know enough about bikes to get by in a conversation! I was skating towards him because traffic was not being kind. I finally found a free space. Sadly, so did he. He pulled in front of me, while I stumbled like a fool over rollerblades...and eventually my words.

Coffee Shop Boy: So you going to try it with fire?
Me: NOBUTIHAVEBEENCONSIDERINGIT

He smiled and walked inside to order a cup. I painstakingly pulled off the blades of shame, and hobbled over to my fellow fire friend. I complained about wanting to talk to him, but not knowing how. She shrugged, and honestly I can't blame her apathetic or unknowing reaction. Girl's married to the man who's been in her life for almost 10 years. One thing you'll learn as a single girl: Asking dating advice from people who've been with someone forever or who are married is just a waste of time. They're just as out of practice as you are. Hence, why trusting one's gut is the way to go. But we're getting there...

I saw Andy chatting with a few of his friends, gingerly playing with a deck of cards. This was a moment that most screenwriters want to capture. I inhaled sharply, eyes widened and told my friend I am going to have Andy perform a magic trick so that guy can have my number.

She, of course, stared because this is simply foreign to her. It's okay; I don't think anyone really knows how to properly make a pass at someone without fear of shame or rejection. I was going to win or fail guns a'blazing! My friend, Dave calmed my nerves and assured me with the following conversation:
"Either way you win. You grew the pair to do such a thing, so even if it doesn't work out, you've proven that you could do it. And if he's not flattered, like most men would be, he doesn't deserve you."

So I sighed, my heart pounding. I wasn't sure at this point if it was because of my nerves or because of the caffeine. But I skipped up to Andy and asked him a "silly question": can he do the card transfer trick so I can give CSB my phone number. Andy told me he would be honored, especially since he hasn't been asked to play cupid for awhile. He had my write my phone number on a blank card and explained he would do a transfer trick in which his name on a separate card and my phone number on a different card would combine. After I saw him walk towards him to perform this trick, a few things crossed my mind: Run, run fast, hide, and finally question what in God's name I just did.


At this point, my friends were outside laughing with me stating they'd never have the guts to do that. It's okay, I said. I'm used to working in extremes. I swear at that point I needed to run away. What if he isn't flattered? What if he finds out who I am and thinks no thanks? So many fears crossed my mind. Finally, I see Andy open the door, crouched over, taking long strides my way. Oh no, I thought. That's the "I have bad news" sulk.

Miraculously, he lifted his head, and a smile stretched his bushy mustache. With two hands giving me the signs for hang loose, he said, "He digs it!" I couldn't be any happier to hug an old Vietnam vet at that point. Andy said CSB was amazed with the trick and the fact that some girl would go that far to get his attention. And Andy, in his wonderful fatherly voice told him: "Hmm. Seems like you have a card now with the one girl's number in this whole entire coffee shop. So...you gonna call her?" And he said yes!

At this point I was hyperventilating like a silly school girl. Suddenly, a buzz in my left jacket pocket. Color me impressed! That was amazing :)

What's the lesson? Take a risk. You'll never know what will happen. Don't get me wrong. I still ran away to my car with a cheeky smile the whole drive home. I did that, I thought. Damn right I did that! To make this story even better, my fire friend's husband got a bag from his car from a recent trip they took to New Orleans. They found me a voodoo doll. For what? To help me find a good man. What impeccable timing. 

So what happens next? Questions of age and proper dating protocol. Let's just say midnight dates with someone you barely know aren't such a terrible thing.

I Awkwardly Date Just Like Everyone Else

I admit it.

I'm excited about my date on Thursday finally. I still have some jitters. I feel the need to, like any proud blogger, do some research on how to date.

I'm extremely nervous. We are going to a Japanese restaurant. Apparently he admires the culture. I am introducing him to the goodness of boba/bubble tea. And then I wonder, as I did before, about how to do my hair. Or if I should wear glasses or contacts. Or if I should dress up or dress down.

And the awkward dater in me asks the more hard-hitting questions: do I bring my own chopsticks? Will that impress him? Do I cut my swearing 25%? Is that enough? 

Yes, yes, I know BE YOURSELF, you say. But this date is different because I'm being forced completely outside of my comfort bubble. I usually enjoy this. But, as stated before, I did my research on online dating. It's basically safety first. My best friend knows where I will be. We have a code red abort signal. I am meeting him there. And I'm certain he's not a Nigerian money scam, so there will be no wiring of money in the future.

*sigh*

I will keep you updated. I want to be someone's second date. Not gonna lie.