Living a life in paradise

It has been a very long time. I just read my last post and my have things changed since those days. Hawaii is now home. I cannot imagine going back to Minnesota. I live in a perfect house with mango and lychee trees growing in the yard. From my living room and dining room I can see the majesty of Diamond Head. I spend my weekends at beaches and campsites and grilling in my backyard next to clothes blowing in the breeze and drying on the line. The windows are always open. I am almost always outside.

My love is with me and our relationship has twisted and turned and made itself into one of the most joyous and rewarding relationships of my life. He takes out the trash and cleans windows and drives me to work almost every single day. I cook lavish dinners and clean the house and research our weekend escapades. At times he is quiet and does not speak his mind. At times I am as well. Sometimes the words that do come out come from a long ago place where the sadness and fears linger. But these times are becoming fewer and fewer. The laughter and the hugs and the love have become stronger and stronger.

Work is work and just work. I do not dread it. I do not dislike it even. It's not a fantasy job. I do not rake in the dough. But I got to work and make some money, knowing that I will be able to go home and eat and drink and enjoy all the things that surround me. Of course, I still have magnificent dreams of a small restaurant near the water where locals come to eat local, delicious foods and drink spectacular cocktails. My specialties will include sweet potatoes and speck with eggs, banana smoothies, ribeye crostini and hand squeezed lime margaritas. One should never stop dreaming.

I have given up running. It took me some time to finally put that dream away. I still whine about it and miss the hell out of it. Sometimes, though, you have to do what's going to be better for you over time. Every time I attempt to pound the pavement these days, there is pain throughout every inch of my feet, legs and back. It usually sets me in a pained and useless state for days. And so after gaining more weight than one should gain when moving to the island, I've taken on a new program. I am lifting and lifting heavy 4-5 days a week. I am taking spin classes at 5:30 a.m. I am doing brief running sprints at the gym. And hot yoga, including an insane sculpt class, has brought back more joy to my life. I still have some way to go before I feel fit and happy but I am doing my best with this endomorph of a body.

In 3 short weeks I will find myself back in Minnesota for a visit with friends and family. I cannot express how fucking excited I am to spend my vacation there. It seems odd in some ways, but to have 9 days to just wander my old city and catch up with old friends sounds like the best possible vacation I could have right now. It's been almost a year since I've been there. Wow. Time sure does move at lightening speed when life is good.

This is probably going to be the last post of this old blog. I've moved on and feel sort of like a different person than when it all began. 40 Grand in the Hole no longer applies. But perhaps I will begin something new. Perhaps.

Transition

I am struggling. But I guess a transition is never easy. I can't find a job. I am done with my current one at the end of the week. Even when I do find one, I will need to find another as well.

At this moment all I want is to be on my porch thinking about what delicious thing I can make for dinner. I want to feel spent from a day of work and a good run. I want Kevin to come home from tennis and tell me how he kicked ass and then have him slap my ass. I want an enormous all encompassing hug and a kiss.

I want my life back. It was not a spectacular life, but I worked hard for it. But I sold everything. I risked everything to be here. This is my dream, right? I want a peaceful life near the ocean. I want a job that doesn't make me feel stressed. I want friends to bbq and camp with. But so far, I am not feeling like this is home. My roommate said she knew it was home immediately. I just feel like I am still waiting for my life to begin, wading in the waters, staring at the waves waiting for someone to rescue me from myself. I am eating too much and not running or really even working out except long walks. I feel uncomfortable in my skin and around these people who have good jobs and are established and don't know a thing about where I've come from.

I want to see the leaves turn pinks and reds and oranges. I want to smell the air changing. It's that smell of cool breezes and pumpkin. I want to put on my hoodie and complain about the impending winter while drinking red wine in front of the fire. I want to talk about where I am going to escape the snow. Minneapolis is home and I am afraid I won't ever ache for it.

But if I were there, I would be sad and lonely and cold. This breakup is so very devastating still. I knew it was coming and yet I cannot shake this man. t does not help that we talk and write every day and that at one point he did say that we need each other and that he loves and misses me. But at the same time, he has taken to calling me new names that aren't as loving. Does he want me or the idea of me? Or does he just want to use me to get here? Or is he just as confused and lonely as I am right now? It doesn't matter. I would be a fool to hope for him. I am the worst kind of fool.

I am so very confused about life. I am not entirely unhappy. I am living in paradise, trying to chase a dream with so much lovely support it makes me tear up. But I am weaker than I appear. I don't want to do this all on my own. I am not looking to be successful or self actualized or to change the world. I just want love and laughter and someone to hug me when things get tough. Of course, I want to accomplish other goals as well, but when it comes right down to it, that is at the center of it. And so I cry and I feel sad when I have too much time to think.

Time to go the beach to clear my head. I do love being in the ocean. It sets my soul at ease. I wonder how this will all turn out.Will I live a loser life or will I find something to give me more peace?

To the ocean

Sadness permeates. Heartbreak, loneliness, devastation. How much more can I handle in my life?  I feel numb. Exhaustion takes over. Right now I am at my desk and the pain in my chest is so deep I can barely breath. I guess that's the opposite of numb. I guess I am feeling far too much. Not only am I losing my friend and lover, I am losing this whole new life that I've invested my heart and soul in. I am going to follow my dream to Hawaii. That is exciting and frightening and I believe in myself but sometimes I don't. There is so much to do and I am frozen at this moment. Frozen. Lost. Sad. Tired... so very tired. It's an up and down battle between my heart and my mind and what I know and what I believe and what I wish to believe. I'm heading to the ocean to sit in the sunlight and close my eyes and try to forgive this world, to try to forgive myself.

I'm alive

You might have begun to worry that I had been eaten up by monsters or disappeared into some padded room or dark well somewhere, but alas I am alive and well in the buzzing Minneapolis metropolis. I am working hard creating a multitude of spam messages and arguing for the importance of social integration and the like. I am massaging very little but intend to get back at it shortly.

I had a successful surgery back in December and my foot is healing quite nicely, although it often tingles in strange fashion and I find it difficult to run more than a few days a week. I take time to ice and massage when I think to take the time, which is not often enough. I ran for the first time 4 weeks after my surgery which is quite special, I'm told. But now, I am still slow and not running often. Instead, about 8 weeks ago I decided to buck up and get this body whipped back into some sort of sculpted shape. Eggs were my best friends for a few weeks. Poached, scrambled -- with peppers, with truffle oil, with blueberries and cinnamon. Now I'm sort of back to my apples and dried fruits as mainstay, coupled with plenty of delicious lamb, chicken and sweet potato concoctions (my fave is baked with onions and speck in a multitude of spices....mmm, speck). The gym is my other best friend. Squats, deadlifts, barbell presses, cable rows, and on and on. It started with heavy lifting and I have now gotten to high rep cycles. I hate high reps. I like the results.

A few weeks back I discovered hot spin class. It is a beautiful addition to my routine. I've been doing hot yoga for some time now and I adore it as well. It's difficult to find the time to fit in all of these things.

I am back living with my boyfriend. I know that you are shaking your head and tisking me. But I adore him. He makes me laugh. He makes me giddy. He makes me soar. Of course there is a deep down guttural fear and paranoia, but after all I've been through, it hardly matters. I am still inclined to just keep living, giving and taking and not dwelling on what may or may not be. I'm just hopeful that this passion and joy will remain for both of us. We are enjoying each day more than I thought was possible.

On February 29 we went to Hawaii to explore Honolulu for a few days. It is most likely where we will be living in September. Of course, all of that is dependent on whether or not I passed my licensing exam. I hope I did but it had been some time since I had to know my anatomy. Does a sprain happen to a ligament or muscle? If I failed, it will not be the end of the world. I can always head back and retake it. But I am so very hopeful. It has been an arduous road and to think that it comes to this... it feels like it is going to happen. I am willing it, working it so. So yes, we spend a few days on Waikiki beach. We drove to the North Shore. We ate amazing breakfasts and drank strong Mai Tais. We sat on our balcony listening to music and watching the sunset. After those amazing days, we hopped a plane because I deeply wanted some quiet and to show him Maui.

In Maui things got a bit crazy. Amazingly, I haven't even told these stories yet. Our first night we stayed in overly-Hawaiianized hotel. I won't complain. The beach in front was gorgeous and we enjoyed ourselves. We took a cab to Lahaina and hit up a bar with the most outrageously bad singer and almost as bad of mai tai's. From there, using our handy Around Me apps, Kev found the "local" bar. We walked a mile or so into an industrial area and entered a tiny little dump. The drinks were cheaper and delicious. The clientele... not too exciting. For a Saturday evening there was not much going on. So that was that. The next morning we got up early and headed to the volcano. Unfortunately, the place with the best breakfast sandwich I've ever had has gone to shit. Worse than that, the rain and clouds were so thick that when we got to the top, you could not see a thing. I had to explain to him what it was supposed to look like. 2 hours wasted.

The last nights we had booked a cute little apartment on the north shore of Maui. We arrived and it was even better than in the pictures. It was fairly private with a great patio looking out over the ocean. The land was green and lush. The apartment itself was good sized and fully equipped with a nice soaking tub and a comfy bed. The thing is that we didn't get to stay in it that first evening. The owner messed up and double booked. She was very apologetic and kind but our alternative accommodations, that she set up for us, were nothing like what we had paid for. In the hills of Haiku we arrived at this lodge where a spacey guy named Danny showed us to our room. Our room was one of 4 in a house in the middle of the jungle. This was a hostel. It would be the perfect place to stay on a budget vacation. That's not what we had planned. The bed sucked. The bathroom was dingy. The grounds were pretty yet unkempt. We made the best of it. That night I had a giggle fit that caused my stomach and face to be tight for hours. Did I mention there was an animal sanctuary next door? Apparently they took care of rabbits and carrots (inside joke).

The remainder of our trip was good, despite insanely unusual rains and cool temperatures. We found the sun most days. We ate delicious fish tacos. I got to see his face light up when he saw his first whale. We laid lazily on the beach.

Our last day, we flew back to Oahu early and took a cab to our favorite beach bar. We wanted to lay in the sun but Mother Nature had other plans. We drank mai tai's and laughed and laughed and laughed. Neither of us remembers the plane ride home. It turns out if you want to sleep through an 8 hour flight, Tylenol PM and a few Mai Tai's are the way to go (thanks to my boss for the advice).

We are an excellent team. I never knew what a true partnership is like until now. We do things for each other. We have our own things as well. He has tennis. I have lifting. I have cooking. He has laundry. In the next few weeks, we are going to 5 shows. He is willing to head to the Cowles center with me. I actually enjoy going to the Knight Cap with him. We are planning dinner parties and fires. We are planning a full summer. We are planning to Hawaii together.

Everyone told me that good things were coming my way. They were very right. Life and all of its pleasures have found me and I've found them. It's got me deliriously giddy.

I'm sure you are bored to death of this talk of this relationship. He does not complete me or anything. Don't worry. If we split up, I believe I will carry on just fine. But I now believe in the kind of love that I thought was reserved for fairytales. It is out there and it makes everything taste just a bit sweeter. Unfortunately it also makes one lax at things that are artistic. I believe that art is definitely best when it comes from pain. And that is why you can't be angry if it takes me another 6 or 7 months to write.

Date

I ended up going on that date. It is a long story but I contacted him and he gave me another shot. I felt very lucky.

We went to the Wilde Roast Cafe on the first snow of the year. He hugged me hello. He smelled good. The booth was cozy, the lighting dim and the atmosphere quiet. We shared salads and wine and pizza and dessert. He asked me to sit on his side of the booth and he fed me chocolate cake while we watched horse drawn carriages go by the river. He told me that I talk too much. I laughed at that. I've grown, I guess. He told me his favorite place on Earth is Vegas and the he loves shopping for clothing. He noticed that my fingernails matched my ring which all matched my green dress. He kissed me. We went to Honey for further drinks and I told him I was going to try a special concoction from the bar and for some reason he changed the Vodka in it. It was a little odd. We couch danced a bit and he put his arm around me. He told me that I had beautiful eyes... that he liked the shape. He dropped me off at my car and we hugged and he kissed me again. He told me that he was going to write me a poem.

The next day he wrote me and asked me on a second date. I did not respond. I spent Sunday cuddling on the couch with Kevin. I went over early and made him breakfast. We watched football. We went on a walk in the snow all bundled up. He could barely move his head because of his silly, puffy hood attached to his coat... I called him a super hero. We watched Limitless and ordered Chinese. We went to sleep quietly and he kissed my shoulder. My heart ached with love. I almost told him that I loved him but I held back.

The next day I wrote the Doc back and told him we would not be going out again. It was the correct decision. He would not change my heart. He was not for me.

Winter has barely begun and I'm already freezing my ass of and dying for a long vacation. I know, I am moving to Hawaii shortly. The problem is that my boss told me yesterday that her goal is to have me running an entire email and social media department for all of our companies. She said we can do it. She said that we are going to make my dreams come true. Shit. Why do I have to love working for her so much? I am tempted to stay longer and save more money and get more experience in the travel business and volunteer around town doing massage and then move in September. But I can't do that because it seems like I am then giving up or changing my plans for Kevin. That's not what I would be doing, is it? But somehow it feels like it. I still want to move to Hawaii but I feel like I need more money and experience. Or is that just me justifying my fears and letting them change my plans? I don't think so, but then again, what do I really know about myself.

Life is complicated.

By the way, I am quite delightfully happy right now. These are pretty good dilemmas.

brunch

I am a complete idiot. I had a brunch date scheduled with a seemingly very cool, smart and interesting man. I cancelled. I awoke in Kevin's bed and thought that it was somehow unfair to everyone if I went on this date. I sent my would-be date a message, closing the door to any possibility of a future date. The second I hit send, I felt an overwhelming desire to push un-send, go back 2 minutes, change the course of my actions.

I wanted to go on that date but I was afraid of the complications that could come from it. I was afraid of hurting Kevin. I was afraid of liking this other guy and feeling torn. Those were all very real and possible fears, but so what. Kevin is still unwilling/incapable of telling me that he loves me. If he cannot do that now, I am a fool to believe that he will ever be able to do that. It's fine if I am seeing him during this time to pass the time and enjoy myself, but I am an utter fool to shut myself off from life's other possibilities. I keep making excuses for Kevin, but the truth is that he is incapable of grasping what love is. He is incapable of taking life by the balls. He is incapable of loving me the way that I want and deserve. I am easily and stupidly manipulated by men like him and I am so very tired of allowing myself to stay when I should run.

So, here I sit. We had a great time this weekend, and yet I'm feeling depressed and lonely. I am alone in my bed. He is alone in his bed. I am living in bags once again. This is not where I should be putting my heart. I should have enjoyed coffee and brunch. For some reason, this feels like an enormous mistake -- the type that will hang around my head for the rest of my years. Such a simple act, such a silly notion. I wish I could take this entire day back.

Vegas

I leave for Vegas tomorrow morning. I will be working hard and long but it will be nice to get away for a few days. I'm hoping there will be a smidgen of time to spend outdoors in sunshine. The weather isn't looking all that fabulous, but the 60's will do right about now.

I've started doing hot yoga on a regular basis. There's a beautiful studio right by me and the classes are great. I cannot explain how good it feels to be in that 105 heat, sweating out all of frustrations and wrongs and just letting myself sink into it. Yoga has been a bit of a life saver. I also did quite a bit of running over the past couple weeks but my legs are aching so the yoga is an excellent supplement as I try to give them a bit of a rest.

I'm still seeing Kevin. There was a night where we saved a cat that we didn't really save, we danced in his living room for a good hour and we laughed unbelievably long. On Halloween we handed out candy. Well, I guess I handed out the candy and then we laughed and laughed and laughed. I spent the night. He said he got back off the dating web site. He said we could date each other exclusively and see where it goes. What the fuck? Can we really go back to the beginning? He no longer calls me darling or looks at me lovingly. He hasn't told me that he loves me and wants me. So what the hell am I doing, you ask? It's never going to work if he is not committed and if he does not love me. If we don't have that, all the laughter in the world is not going to make us a happy couple. I don't have a clue what I am doing except trying to convince myself that he does love me and is just struggling to express it.I'm convincing myself that his issues can be overcome by my love and our connection. But if that were true, he would have never let me walk out the door. I'm fucking doomed to heartache in this situation. It's a choice I've made. Sometimes we do bullshit things when we chose to ignore our brains. I'm doing that and I've reconciled myself to it for the time being. What can I say... I want to dance with him again.

November is cold. I am feeling anxious to get the fuck out. It's almost 4 months exactly until the license test in Hawaii. That seems really far away and way too close.

Vegas, here I come. Maybe while I'm there things will become a hell of a lot clearer and I will meet someone who will change the course of my career or personal life or my entire life. Wouldn't that be spectacular?

I need some new music. This old stuff is just not fucking doing it.

Uptown is beautiful in the fall. Yesterday I ran around Lake Calhoun as the sun was setting and the leaves were shimmering. I came home and made couscous and drank wine. Lovely. I hate it here. My friend is great, she is, but whenever she is here it is non-stop talking about herself. I can't even walk in the door and it begins. It's a billion degrees in the living room. The dog ate my headphones and now the handle off of my glorious water bottle. I am tired and lonely. Saturday I am going out with Kevin. Last night we texted back and forth. I feel confused by this situation. What am I doing? What am I really doing with this life of mine? I was listening to the Ben Folds song "The Luckiest." Do you know that song? God, it's gorgeous. I want that so badly. I don't want to sound needy and co-dependent. But honestly, I am better when I am loving. I was made for it and I can't escape it. I am an independent, smart and perfectly capable woman. But I want companionship. I want to love someone.

February

I am planning my move. I am really planning. It cannot come quick enough.

Some days I am happy and strong. This morning I sang in the car and I felt good. Right now, not so much. I hate the swinging of emotions. I am a grown woman. You would think I would be faster to recover. Well, ok, I deserve some credit. It has only been about 2 weeks and my world was sort of turned upside down yet again. The sad truth is that what bothers me the most is that there could be such a fast (4 weeks is fast in my opinion) shift in how he felt about me. It bothers me that I can't get inside his head and know how he's feeling or thinking. Does he sort of regret it? Is he jealous at all, seeing me back on the dating web site? Did he post the picture I took of him to get under my skin? Does he wish he could have me back for a moment or is he just excited to continue his quest for the perfect, passionate love. None of this matters, I suppose. I have this odd desire to proposition him. I'd like to ask him to hang with me for the next few months... no attachment. I won't stay at his place ever. I won't even expect there to be sex or anything. Let's just be friends and go to shows and have dinner. I just need a friend in my remaining time. Ridiculous and unrealistic, right? I would just end up dragging out the hurt more, right? I really would like to play him some Elliott Smith and see him in his blue hat... I'd like to wear the orange one and have him tell me that he wants to give it to me because it looks perfect there on my head. It's stupid to think these thoughts.

I am moving tonight. I am moving to Uptown. I have mixed feelings. It feels sort of lonely and cold all of a sudden, to leave the 2 people who have been keeping me occupied... the 2 people who feel like my family. But I'm out the door right now and I'm going to pack up my shit and try to start a new life yet again.

Chopin

There are times for Chopin and there are times for Hass. I am at that time. I am at that place. I am trying to wade my way through the doubts and the sorrow and I am trying to believe that I have a soul worth knowing. I am trying to believe that people see something good, and not just sadness, when they see me. I'm trying to believe that I have touched people in some way that stays with them in a positive way. I am trying to tell myself that my love has not been for nothing. I am trying to tell myself that it is not wrong to keep giving away my heart. I am trying to tell myself that there is love left to give and love left to be received. I am trying to tell myself that I should not be so serious but it's ok to be serious. I am trying to tell myself that the last two years are not an indication of who I am or what I deserve. I am trying to tell myself that what is ahead is beautiful... there will be sunrises and music and the sound of the ocean. I will find peace and purpose and my heart is not broken. I am not broken. But I am so very sad for the people that I have known and loved and lost. I want to hug Kevin so tight and touch his hair and look in his eyes and tell him that he is worthy and lovely and he should be happy to be. I want to kiss his face and touch his hand and I want him to feel worthy and comfortable and close. I want to find Brian and hug him and kiss him on the cheek until a light flickers and we can smile at the magic. I want to see him smile the way he used to smile. I want to find the girl that I massaged this past weekend and touch her hand and let her know that she is beautiful. I want to hug my father and tell him that he is the kindest, most wonderful man. I want to tell him to let go of his sadness, to let go of all those things that hurt him. I want to tell him to embrace the beauty that surrounds him. I want to hug my mother and tell her to let the silence fill in. I want to tell her to be quiet in her mind and let the good overtake the guilt. I want to hug my friends and tell them how wonderful they've been to me and how sorry I am for my ups and for my downs. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to be quiet. I want to lay in bed, a body next to mine and feel warm. I want to feel breath upon my neck and the excitement of breakfast in the morning. I want to wash all of the sadness away. I want to let the hope in. I want to play Chopin and read Hass all day and all night.

I know. I am an idiot. I should never have bought anything that Kev told me. I should never have moved in with him. I should never have stayed. I feel like a total and complete fool. I am so very lucky that he had the balls (or maybe no balls) to cut things off when he did. I don't even really know how much I loved him. I may have just loved his persona and the idea that he could possibly find me to be the love of his life. But it is all over which is so good. I no longer have to help him walk or have him tell me to fuck off or make fun of me for not putting the toilet paper on the roll the correct way. I've been looking back at my blogs and I wanted to be happy, but I was not. In fact, almost every weekend I would dread the point where he would be super drunk and I would feel responsible. I don't know if he ever touched me when he was sober. His kisses were few and far between. His love was never really love. He didn't really have any goals or desires. He never really showed himself to most people or even to me most of the time.

I miss him. I miss his hugs and his darlings and the way he would compliment me and do my laundry and hold me at night. But last night I slept damn good.

I am afraid that I will not meet someone again. I am afraid that I will not be held like that or kissed like that or share dreams and music like that. But it's just fear, right? If I am open to it, it will come. There are other people out there who will appreciate me more and really love me. There have to be. And this time, I won't be so ignorant and easy with my heart. This time I will be smart. I will be smarter than smart. It's not that I am going to hold back and shut myself off.... that would be a sign of being broken, that would be Kevin. I am going to continue to put myself out there, but this time I will be way fucking smarter about it.

I want to tell Kevin "fuck you" but I can't. As much of a shit as he is, I still have this crazy desire to not destroy what we had or any relationship that we could have. Is that entirely insane? I think so. I know it is. But I can't help myself from feeling endeared to him and his sadness. I cannot seem to let go of this desire to call him or text him and ask him why. I know, right? It's ridiculous. Nothing good will come of me talking to him. Nothing. He made up his mind. And even if he didn't, I shouldn't want to be there anyway. But a part of me does. I cannot wait until that dies, because for now I feel achy and so very sad. I am so tired of feeling sad. I hate this pathetic person that I become. I feel like everyone sees it when they look at me. I cannot stand it.

I don't want to cry for him. I don't want to hope that he will reach out to me. I hate these rough nights with the train humming by and the loneliness of this basement seeping in.

Tiny miracles

Life sure can be harsh and blunt. And then little, strange and life altering miracles will happen. Today, I had one of those miracles, a small magical moment, happen to me.

My mind has been in a horrible state, fluctuating between the pain of losing someone I love and the knowledge that I should have never loved him. I am well aware of the destructive nature of our relationship and yet letting go of him and this idea that we were perfect for one another is impossibly difficult. Had he not been an alcoholic, had he not been incapable of opening up, had he not been looking for a savior, we would have had the most amazing love that one can imagine. We had all the same passions. We would both revel in music and the way the sunlight hit the trees or the mountains. We both believed in love and living in the peace of the ocean. He became my best friend and he told me that I was one of his. We loved. We laughed. We held each other in the dark of the night. But it was never to be. He was never ready to love or be loved. It was not me. It was not me. No matter my past, no matter my hurt, I can and will open myself and my heart fully to anyone who makes me laugh and makes me feel loved, for even the briefest  moment. That may be an enormous flaw of mine but I don't really want to change. I really don't want to stop giving everything that I am and loving from the depths of my being. That makes me feel happy, no matter how much it is rips my heart out. Eventually that naivety of mine, that risk, gives back in the most amazing ways.

And so here I sit, hurt and questioning and feeling lost. But today I experienced a few things that keep me from wanting to wander into the abyss. Today I have hope in the world. I believe in some spiritual thing that I've never believed in. Or maybe it's not that I didn't believe it. Maybe it's just that I merely felt like an idiot to express it. I don't think I would have fell immediately in love with massage if it had not been for some sort of belief in the healing power of touch and human connection.

I massaged this young woman with a beautifully freckled face and a lovely glow. She had a problem with a lumbar disc but felt most of her pain in her mid-upper back. I could tell by the way she described her pain, that she wanted some sort of comfort more than she needed physical rehabilitation. Maybe it's not true of everyone, but I find that you can get a sense of this quite easily. I massaged her back for a long time. She wanted her arms massaged as well and I did that. I tried to stay focused on helping her, but I must admit that I was slightly lost in my own sadness and loss. I was not thinking about particulars but I was feeling hurt to the core, just wondering what it is that I did wrong, wondering why my love was not enough, wondering if I will ever experience love and affection again.

To finish off the massage, I decided to give her something soothing. I don't really know if it was for her or for me. I had her lay on her back and I massaged her neck and scalp, finishing by holding her head lightly and stroking her hair. When I stood up and gently said that we were done, she opened her eyes slowly and began to sob. Her face just scrunched up and the tears came. This is the first time I've experience this. I touched her arm and said, "it's ok, honey. It's ok, You have to take care of yourself." She looked at me so kindly and said, "so do you." I'm sure my face showed the utter emotion that ran through my body. It was as if she could see into my soul. I wondered if I had sent her my sadness. I wondered if it was mere coincidence. I felt utterly baffled and touched and moved in a way that is inexplicable.

I don't want to analyze that moment too much. All I know is that it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Since I've been working at this clinic, every single weekend I am moved in a way I never knew possible. But today it was personal and it was something that I think I needed. That human connection of touch is so profound. I am so lucky to have found this work at this time in my life. I am so lucky to have met that girl today. I am so very lucky. Being able to care for people in this way is personally healing and the  most spiritual and rewarding thing I've done in my life. I don't know that I would have made it through the day without that lovely, red-headed girl.

Same old story.

TUESDAY POST

Saturday night my love told me that he does not love me anymore. At some point in the last couple months, he stopped wanting to kiss me or hold my hand. He stopped loving me. How? Tell me how, please. How do you go from one moment being entirely passionate and telling someone how amazing and sexy and wonderful they are to nothing. Fuck. My heart is once again in a million fucking pieces. But this time is different. Because this time I loved him with every inch of my being. Sure, I was disappointed in his drinking and his seeming desire to live a seedy life and then die. But fuck, I loved him. I would often just look at his arm or his face and be enamored by it. That sounds fucking crazy. I wanted to kiss him all the time. I wanted to lay next to him and feel his arms around me.

In hindsight, I knew he was over me. In hindsight I was unhappy because it was clear I could not make him happy. He had no intention of being happy. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. I don't remember anymore how losing Brian hurt but I feel like this is far worse. I almost feel like this is something I cannot come back from. Hope has left the fucking building. And the people around me are sure that this is for the best. That's kind and loving of them to say, but I feel like I've been broken for the last time, god damn it. How much more can one person take. I am strong. I am crazy strong. But this is devastation. It would be one thing if he loved me and he just didn't think we could work. But he pretty much just told me that I am un-fucking-loveable. He pretty much told me that I am undesirable. He just told me I am everything that I feared I was.

And then to top it off, I am kicked out of the place that I love living... pretty much my fairytale Minneapolis home. My bike is there. My stereo is there. My lovely food and my favorite pans are all there. And here I am in my friend's basement with my computer and my fucking clothes. I am 34 years old and I have built nothing of consequence.

He told me that I am a quality human being and it would be great if we could be friends. It's not me, it's him. Fuck him.

Last night I was there and we drank a bunch of wine and acted all normal like nothing was happening. I had told him I would be sleeping on the couch. At bed time, I put my water bottle next to the couch. He moved it into the bedroom. Fuck him. So I slept there a safe and empty distance between us. And then at some point in the morning, I just started talking. I don't fucking know why. I called him a worthless piece of shit and then apologized. And then I talked and talked and fucking talked about how I felt. I rambled really. I was still in a wine coma. I was fucking retarded. My alarm went off. It went off later than I meant for it to go off. He was listening to me. I wanted him to be at the time but now I fucking regret every word. I am not crazy. I am not fucking crazy.

After that I was on the porch trying to get some work done and I just started to cry. I could not help it. I could not stop it. I went and laid on the couch and cried. I pulled myself together but he was watching me. We both got ready. I packed up some shit in my car. He watched me, his face so hollow and sad looking. At some point we were both ready to leave. I was standing on the porch. He came out and hugged me and said he had to go. "I'm sorry," he said as he backed away. "So am I," I said as I took a drag of my smoke. He went through the door. I went through the other door and that is that.

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WEDNESDAY

The range of thoughts and emotions that rush through your body when you are losing your best friend and your life for the second time in a matter of 2 years is unbelievable. Am I revising history? Did I really love Kevin Boehlke: a 42 year old who has never committed to anyone, who has been in jail countless times, who has no real desires except to live somewhere warm until he dies young? Could he have ever, ever, ever made me happy? He feels like he's lived more life than most and I feel like I am just beginning.

I can't help but feel like I will never connect with someone the way I felt connected to him. Wait a fucking second. He didn't even like to look in my eyes. He barely ever kissed me except out of lust... it never felt out of love, at least not after a couple months in. When he told me he loved me for the first time with a grand gesture of roses on the floor, it wasn't even original. He did it the same way that he had for some other woman.

And yet, I have never felt more gutteral reactions to a person. He called me "darling, dearest, love of my life." He called me love. He told me to hurry because he missed me so much. He told me that he would always have my back. After we had already split he told me he would do anything for me. He wrote me a letter last night that said he has never felt like this over a break up in his life. He can't eat. He is so sorry that he is douche. He loves me but just not in the right way. Part of me hopes that he will never love someone in the "right way." How could I not have been enough? And yet, I worry about him and don't want him to be unhappy. I can't seem to make sense of anything right now.

I went to look at an apartment today. It's in Longfellow right by Lake Hiawatha. It is big and has a deck and a porch. It's pretty dumpy. They would let me stay 6 months. All utilities are included in rent and they are nice 50-something couple. I was excited about it when I was driving there but when I left it was fucking depressing. It's not even half as wonderful as where I was living.

I could stay in this basement and save money, but be this fucking child. I could move in with my friend who is an emotional wreck. I could keep looking for places. But the thing is, I am itching like crazy to get the fuck out as fast as possible. I need to do something. I am afraid that if I stay here, I will wither away. I can't stand the thought of seeing Kevin out and happy... I feel like I have to avoid him which means avoiding everything that I love: music, sushi and the city. And honestly, he's the only person I would have to do those things with anyway.

My marketing career is still bullshit and headed no where.

I have a few very good friends but my circle is small and separated and they are busy with their families and lives. That is wonderful but I don't fit within that world. I don't fit.

It's time for me to put up or shut up. I need to get the fuck out of this and soon. On Sunday night at 4 in the morning I walked the streets and stared at the light rail and wished to god it could just take me away.

I don't know if Hawaii is the right place, but it seems like a good jumping off point. It seems like a good place to become one with who I am and find some sort of niche in the world. I love massaging people... it makes me feel relaxed and centered and useful in this fucked up world. I can make that happen at the very least. I can lay my head on the sand in the sunshine and maybe I can find a little peace.

Or maybe I should head to Costa Rica and learn Mayan abdominal massage. Or maybe I should take off to Thailand and learn Thai body work. There are a lot of options. I am going to pick one and do it. 3 more weeks of normal classes. Foot surgery in November. CPR classes in late November. Massage certification testing after that.

I could buy my 1-way ticket for January and be gone. Can I do it? I don't think I have a choice and that's not a bad thing.

cabinets

I have a deep and gutteral longing for my kittens. I just want their fuzzy little faces against my cheek. I want to sit with them and watch football and eat peanut butter toast. I sent Brian an email to arrange a visitation, this after having sent him a text about how much his son looks like him, how cute he is, and not getting a response. He emailed me back quickly & said I can see Shiva and Audrey any time. In the email he warned of a messy house because of a big project & he included pictures of the kitchen. He has started installing the cabinets we bought about 3 months before we parted. The cabinets look beautiful and clean against the mossy green paint, which has always been my favorite. Oh, how I love wood against that color green. It's exactly as I imagined. I'm so fucking proud of him for doing it.Instant flow of tears.They've been building up over the last few days and today I cannot control myself.

My boyfriend is an alcoholic and determined to drink himself to death. I'm thinking about leaving.

I have to have foot surgery sometime soon. I'm glad, really, because there's a large possiblity that I will regain some movement and be back to normal activities. I ran on a treadmill last night because its gotten to the point where I can't run on roads without suffering for days after. Hell, I can barely walk normal these days. I ache every day and every night. There's no way this surgery could rmake things any worse. But it's going to cost me. I don't have much money as it is and I hate to give a huge portion of it away like that. But that's life, right? It's just a whole bunch of shit intertwined with the good stuff. How could you appreciate the good without the shit.

Last night was the first time I've been to the gym in ages. It felt really fucking great. I felt motivated. I didn't like seeing myself in the mirror. I have lost a lot of my tone... way too many breakfasts and cookies and days without lifting. The 2 hours flew by and I felt rejuvenated. I think I'm going to go do some hot yoga tonight if my foot will allow it.

I need to shake this sadness. It's not useful. It's not likeable. It's not getting me anywhere good. I probably should not see my kittens. How silly is it that it's been a year and almost 10 months and my heart still aches this badly? Bullshit.

more of the ranting.

God damn it. This is one of those days, one of those moments. They are few and far between these days, in all honesty. But they come crashing in unexpectedly and it really infuriates me. All of a sudden I had this incredibly clear recollection of sitting in Venice eating cannoli with Brian and from there it went to sitting on the rooftop in Venice drinking wine with the church behind us. At the time that was the best fucking night of my life in many ways. 4 friends enjoying wine and food in the moonlight of Venice. Perfection. Fuck them. And then my mind quickly moved from that to the name Elgin Plainview. Elgin Plainview. Elgin Plainview. If you recognize it, it's because it's on a sign in Wisconsin. Two town names on a sign should mean nothing. But I saw them once and told Brian that's what we would name our kid. It wasn't a big deal, really, but I can't erase it from my brain. I also cannot erase this feeling of vertigo... I still don't feel quite grounded and maybe I never will. So, although I am quite happy with life in general, I feel awful today. I just want to go lay in bed and sleep and sleep and sleep. I don't want the responsibility of school and work and a relationship. I feel utterly inept. 

In an attempt to lift my spirits, I am going to bore you with details from my life. Last weekend was absolutely delightful. K and I went to Pepin for dinner and stayed overnight. It was beautiful. Then we woke up and stopped in Stockholm, where we feasted on pastries and eggs and Mimosas surrounded by lush vegetation and with great old-timey music coming from the kitchen. I felt like I was in some quaint beach town and not in nowhere Wisconsin. That same day we went to Valleyfair and got our thrill on, although we both agreed that skydiving sort of killed some of the thrill. Steel Venom still gets the heart pumping -- I dig the corkscrew part. We went to Cantebury and bet on some horses. It was my first time and I rather enjoyed it. We were sure we were going to win, but we did not. ILikeChocolateMilk is not my favorite horse. We finished the day off with a big dinner at Nye's before retiring to our porch. Sunday evening was spent around a campfire  with K's boys, discussing politics and religion until 2 in the morning (probably my favorite part of the weekend) before retiring to the futon for some… well, I guess I can be ladylike and not mention that. And although there was bit of rockiness one day of the weekend (my fault), I felt complete love for my life and for Kevin. 

Last night K went out and I stayed at home and rode my bike before baking peach cobbler and oatmeal raisin cookies while sipping wine. This week I've had a small glass of wine each day and worked out every day. I feel healthier than I've felt in some time. I slept hard and long every night until last night. My legs are aching badly today – my left hip, my swollen toe and my rigid, unstretchable right leg.

This attitude today is dangerous. I'm supposed to go spend the evening with K’s friends. I like them fine enough, a lot actually, but he will be playing horseshoes and I will be left with women. I'm not good with that sort of situation. I'm much better left alone with the men where quiet is tolerated. Plus,  I’m just feeling ornery and bitchy and I’m going to be awful company. He’s going to hate me. 

Tomorrow I have to work at the clinic and then he is going to the Gopher game, so really we will have no time to enjoy a good meal together this weekend. And that pisses me off deep down inside. It shouldn’t. I’m pissed at myself for being pissed.

I’m loving girl music lately. Jessica Lea Mayfield is to die for. Lucinda Williams continues to haunt me. And I can’thelp but love the overly popular and glorious Adele. Davina and the Vagabonds are this great little jazz band that I saw at the Dakota last month. They are playing again tomorrow night and I’m thinking I would love to go. Her voice is awesome.

Pocket by Davina and The Vagabonds on Rhapsody. Check it out!

Listening to Call Me by Jessica Lea Mayfield on Rhapsody. Check it out!

romanticizing

Damn, I suck at posting these days. I wrote this dull, dreary post yesterday but then decided not drag you into the dull depths of my girly crabbiness. You are very welcome. Is it Friday yet? I want it to be Friday. And yet I don't because the weekend means that I am just that much closer to school and winter and all that horrendous crap that keeps me from being the joy filled person that I aim to be. I am not exactly succeeding right now either, but it's nice to be able to blame it on the bitter chills and loads of work instead of the fact that I'm just searching for that stupid thing we call "meaning." I know, "meaning" is a silly thing to be looking for... it's such a silly human concept. So whatever...

Have you heard the call of the cycadas this year? Isn't it glorious when you can sit outside in the heat, on a porch, with a drink and a smoke and listen to that beautiful mating music. It's awfully romantic if you ask me. Then again, I can romanticize most things. For instance, right now I'm thinking about how I'm going to hop on my bike in the last humid, heat of the summer and ride by myself towards the lakes. After my body is worn, I will return home and grill something up -- probably habanero brats and sweet potatoes. I will pour a pineapple rum drink of some sort and I will sweat on the porch and listen to the cycadas for probably the last time this summer. Ridiculously romantic.

After that, I will continue reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe. Have you read it? I've been meaning to for quite some time. So far, so good. I will be taking a towel with me at all times from this point forward. Last week I read a short, murder mystery novel. That is typically not my speed but it was fun ripping through it and feeling entertained. I feel like I'm getting smarter already.

Did I mention that I passed my comprehensive massage therapy exam. It was close but I am done with that. What a relief. Now I just need some clients who won't cancel on me at the last minute. My rates are $60/hr or $80/90 minutes if you come to my place. Add $15 and I'll come to you. Spread the word.

Well, it's about that time for me to head out and begin the night as I outlined it. I hear it's hot out there. Perfect.

2 posts in 1 day? Is she bored already?

No, I'm not bored. I'm just proud. I'm proud that today after work I came home, laced up the running shoes and managed a 9.55 mile run. It's been quite awhile, folks. Sure, I've been running but the runs have been short and painful and often result in walking. I know -- it's awful. In fact, I've actually only ran like 2 times a week for the last couple months. I blame summer hours and school and my fucking hallux rigidis (there's a name for ugly ass big toe problem). My knees hurt, my feet hurt, and my hips keep me from sleeping. But today I went out there and I ran like I haven't run in months. I was gliding and sailing across the path with a smile on my face. My breathing was steady and I was enjoying the the tightness in my abdomen and the sun soaking into my skin. The beautiful Chris Bathgate played on and I had no need for anything else but that moment. That is what a run is supposed to be. It was a beautiful, beautiful thing. I arrived home to a concerned boyfriend. Where had I been for so long? Perfection. Tonight we will get sushi and most likely drink some lychee martinis. Right now I am on the porch with wet hair, tight calves and the haunting sounds of Two-headed Boy filling my ears. Boredom has not visited me in quite some time. Life is superb.

Friday Update.

Can you believe that I am almost done with school? Holy shit. I have 7 clinic shifts and 7 days of class left and then I am free. Yes, free. Holy fuck. I need clients. I'm not quitting my day job or anything, let's not get crazy, but I do have some student loans to pay off. Shit, I hate owing money. Luckily I have been paying quite a bit as I go, but still, that school was damn expensive. And now I need to figure out how to pay that off and simultaneously get some experience so that when I move to Hawaii someone will hire me. Oh yes, Hawaii is still in the plans. But before that, I am headed to Colorado.

No, I'm not going to live in Colorado. I just have a very exciting road trip planned for the end of next week. Well, unless air prices drop. If that happens, I may be hopping on that. The boyfriend and I are headed to the Rocky Mountain Folks Festival to hang out with all the hippies. I'm pretty excited. Can you believe that I've never been to Colorado? We will be staying in a little cottage by a river and the mountains. We will have a hot tub and a grill. Glorious. That's just 2 days, though. We still need accomodations for the other 2. I think we will be spending a night in Omaha.Omaha... somewhere in middle America. In Colorado we may try to spend a night in downtown Boulder or in Estes Park. I'm leaning towards to park myself. I'm trying to convince Kevin that white water rafting would be awesome. He seems up for it, but I believe that he may be a bit nervous. Then again, he went skydiving with me and didn't appear nervous for a moment.

Kevin makes me happy, even though there are things that concern me.

I saw Brian last weekend for the first time in 8 months. Last night he was in my dreams looking like the old Brian and not this new Brian. When I actually saw him he got choked up. I told him I had a boyfriend and was living with him. That must have been a bit shocking. We talked about work and life. He's surviving. I'm sad to say that I don't know that he ever goes too far beyond that, although he has every ability and characteristic to live a fantastically happy life. I sort of miss him. I guess I miss him like you would miss any person who was a part of the majority of your life and knows you well. I see his face and it reminds me of my life. Without it I feel so separated from that. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. It's good to be free of that heaviness of heart. I saw pictures and video of his kid. That still baffles my fucking head.

Life is good to me right now. I spend a lot of time eating and cooking and seeing music. And now I have time to workout on my terms and read and maybe turn on the television some day... hmmm, maybe that one can wait. But of course there are things that I am sacrificing, like the opportunity to have a family. I am trying to come to terms with the idea of that. I will never be a Mom. Is that cool with me? It just may be. I may have just found someone who makes that all ok. Sometimes I don't think so, of course. Like when my Mom continually sends me stupid ass comments like, "I am so angry with Brian for ruining your lives and the chance for you to be Mom" after I've told her multiple times that that is bullshit and to shut the hell up. WTF, Mom? So maybe I don't want to be one of those. And when we sit on the porch and watch people go by and laugh so hard I cry and get sushi and go to bed at night and he kisses my shoulder, I think that maybe a life in the sun, possibly starting up a little restaurant in the hills of Maui, living and exploring with this man, could be more than I ever hoped for. It's hard to say, I guess. I'm just going with the flow. I'm just living life and keeping the possiblities open. After all, almost anything is possible these days.

By the way, I am indulging in way too much music lately. Right now I'm listening to Beirut. They keep growing on me. I'm also in love with Dan Auerbach and the songWhen The Night Comes. The Rural Alberta Advantage and Band of Horses are still on heavy rotation at our house. And last night I introduced Kevin to The Kooks since they are coming shortly.It's going to be a show filled fall which makes me quite happy.

So that's it for now. I'm hoping to have more time, energy and creative flow in the upcoming months but I cannot promise anything. The food blog, excersize blog, music blog is still enticing me, but maybe I just need to make a end-goal Hawaii blog. I don't know. At this moment I'm excited about an early exit from work, a bike ride, and weekend of absolutely no studying.

cows

I think that beauty and love are the only important things in this world. Call me stupid and naive and fucked in the head and I will probably agree. Fucking beauty and love, what the hell do they get you but loss and longing. But there they are. I believe that's all that anyone is really fighting for. Wait, that's a fucking piece of shit lie. People pretend that's what they are fighting for, but in reality all they are fighting for is survival and power. What? You are some self-actualized, brilliant person who would give of yourself for the good of this planet or at the very least some individual that you've chosen as your luck. Ha! You are fucking delusional. You are just as simple and base as the next guy who is out there beating the shit out of another person for a little food. It may be on some "higher" level. You may be fighting for an idea or a place or something that seems entirely intellectual or good... oh yes, you are fighting for good over evil. Double fucking ha. Those ideas and that goodness is all your way of dealing with the fact that you have too much time on your hands and too many things and too much ease to be able to just sit still. Deep inside you are positive that you have no control over anything and you want that control. You want the world to bend and kiss your feet. You want to be adored and respected, but more importantly you would like to be King. You want to rule all those things and piddly human beings that you see out on the street. "Dumb shit", ugly ass long grass, horribly cooked hamburger -- it's all a big old swatch of gooey, stinking shit throw on you doorstep. You need to clean it up by cleaning up the world. That's what you're thinking, right? You're think you rattle off words and phrases and magically remove that shit. But you are mistaken, my friends. That shit is just part of this fucking world. No matter how hard you try to clean the stench and bury it down, it's still there. It's your fucking shit. You are in no way different than the drugged out whore or the sex-crazed politician or the cow grazing in the farmland miles from your urban home. Wait, I take that back. At least the cow doesn't think himself better than you.

Some times it freaks me out how in touch with my body/mind I am. Seriously, man. Did I or did I not say that I was seriously PMSing? And of course that should be a fairly simple thing for most women to place, but I get emotional and am immediately willing to admit what the issue is.Yeah, I'm pretty damn cool that way. Kidding. But I am happy to be that in touch. I think it should make the men in my life happy too. You would think I might want to slap the shit out of my boyfriend when he asks me if I'm crabby because of this, but instead I just shrug and go, "yep" I hate it as much as you.

But anyway, this is boring stuff. I had a pretty laid back weekend really. It was good, though. I am sun kissed and decently rested.I met the boyfriend's parents. Man, I was scared of that but it ended up a pretty laid back and easy affair. His Dad talked quite a bit and his Mom just hugged me and introduced me to other's as "Kevin's latest girlfriend."Ha! Nice one. It's true, though. I am the latest. From what he tells me, though, I am kind of special. Do I believe that? I want to. I think I'm a pretty special gal. I mean, you should see how I've been cooking lately. Damn, I've gotten good. I don't like to be all cocky about this stuff because I know I'm just on a bit of a roll right now, but damn it is a good roll. Homemade salsas, guac, speck and eggs, fish tacos, sweet potatoes, and an amazing filet on pesto. That's just the beginning. Even the raisin oatmeal cookies did not last. I love cooking for the guy, what can I say. He is super appreciative and I've brought him over to the couscous and a bunch of other things. He calls my cooking unique and full of flavor. Mission accomplished. There aren't enough days to cook as much as I want.

I'm counting down the days. 5 weeks and I get another break from school. And come September, I will only be going 2 days a week -- one of which is for only 1.5. Can you believe that? I am almost done. I am almost done!!! And then what, you ask? Then I plan my exodus. Kevin and I are talking about how we want to sail the world. I like that idea a lot. So the only question is how do we make enough money to kick start this dream? Any suggestions or donations would be greatly appreciated.