deja vu

I woke up this morning, not thinking about you
Like I've taught myself to do
But in the still of the silence
I'm reminded of you
And just like that, it all comes back
Déjà vu

Oh here I go again (again)
From the beginning and, oh
I watch us fall too fast (too fast)
I can't escape the Love we made, the fights we had
The slamming doors and broken glass
And just like that, it all comes back to you
Déjà vu
Déjà vu

I won't ever get used to, watchin' me lose you
Over and over again
I've gotten good at pretending
That I'm okay, but up here in my head
I see your clothes on the carpet
Your arms wrapped around me
On the floor in the living room
And I almost believed that
I'm really here with you
And just like that, it all comes back
Déjà vu

So yeah. I sent him a friend request. He accepted. I messaged him to apologize and he asked why I was apologizing. We ended up texting for a couple hours the other day. He reminded me of something I said. 

I texted him the next day to tell him I remembered meeting him at a bar where Nick was working. And asked if I misremember his hair being black. He said that it was and remembered the bar. Then he brought up the night I saw him at a bar and he came home with me. I said I never really forgot that night. He asked me what I remember about it. I didn’t get into specifics just said Kristin was there, she went to bed, things happened, Eric called. He said “yep. I remember.” What was I supposed to say, “I remember it being the last time I had good sex”? It seriously was. How sad is that. Dave liked to dry hump like a 13 year old. There was oral but sex was a handful of times over the years I was with him. And Shawn... well... it is what it is. 

Timeline: Saturday night sent friend request. Sunday afternoon request accepted. Monday night message sent. Tuesday afternoon he messaged me after work (he works overnight). Tuesday night we texted. Wednesday night we texted. Thursday I talked to Kristin. Or was that Wednesday too? Anyway it helped a little to talk. She asked if we were going to meet up. I said that wasn’t discussed. She asked if I would. Said that’s really how I’d figure out what’s going on... are there actual feelings or just memories. I told her I don’t really have any doubt how I’d feel if I saw him. It’s been a long time but he’s still him. And underneath everything, I am still me.  So I don’t know if meeting up is the best or worst idea ever.

I’ve always said that shawn let’s me be myself but I’m not really sure that’s even true. Looking at old pictures and having old memories coming back... I’m not who I was. I feel caged. Chained. I think I need to let her out again. 

I’ve also always said it was Eric that ruined my life but I think it was ultimately Dave. They were both mistakes but Dave was no good for me... on any level. He tried to mold me into who he wanted but that didn’t work out for him. And I wasted so much time. Bob and I were happening for about two and a half years... if I can just remember when we stopped happening. But that seems about right. If I wouldn’t have met Dave, I might have tracked Bob down more. I don’t know. Who can say? I started working with Dave in August of 1996. We started hanging out probably around November or December. It started as friends. But ugh... 

I’m thinking that child was Bob’s and if it would have survived maybe... just maybe we would have. But again, who knows? He was 19, you know... I’m killing myself over what ifs. And I am dying inside wanting to see him. 

March 10, 1994

That’s the day I met him. I know that because I pulled out my journal to see what I had written about him. I found out that I hadn’t written much. So why now, almost 26 years later do I miss him? I feel like a fool. I’ve been trying to internet stalk him but I haven’t come up with much. Apparently he has a son who graduated high school and a girlfriend he has been with for about six years. They have a dog together. There’s a part of me that’s like, I don’t even know if he’d remember me.  There’s another part like, girl, of course he remembers you. He was in legit love with you. And yet another part that’s like, hello? Why does any of this matter now? Answer. It really doesn’t. I’ve been taking Wellbutrin along with my Lexapro to try to combat my anxiety and depression. One of the side effects of Wellbutrin is insomnia. Joy. One of the side effects of insomnia is remembering things hat have been blocked from my memories. I’ve spoken before about my voluntary amnesia. I say it like a joke but it’s a real thing. I blocked out a lot of the Eric years. I cheated on him. He cheated on me. I had for real relationships with more than one person during that time with Eric. One of them was Bob.

I was working at a men’s clothing store. I worked a 12 hour shift by myself on March 10, 1994. My mom came by to bring me food. Three guys came in later. Bob, Shawn, and Brian. I had seen Brian before. Bob and Shawn were new. Bob started hitting on me right away. Making comments about getting caught up in my eyes. Do I have a boyfriend? While they were there, my friend Barb called. Bob took the phone from me and started talking to her about me. Telling her I have amazing legs. Then started asking her questions. Is my boyfriend big? Then he said if I was his girlfriend, there would be a ring on my finger. He continued to come to see me at work. Eric and I broke up on March 19th. I went out with Bob on March 20th. Though I don’t remember the sequence of my memories of Bob. I do have several. I remember the ease of being with him. It was like our souls and our bodies knew each other forever. I remember having sex in his truck and just feeling cherished and loved. I remember him coming to see me at work when I was there with my manager, Nick on more than one occasion. I was the assistant manager. So Bob would be there when my shift was over and Nick’s was starting. After about the third time, Nick raised his eyebrows (or one, Nick was one of those one eyebrow raisers) because he didn’t like Eric either. Eric and I always got back together.  But that breakup on March 19th. I went to pool league (Eric and I were in a league together) and he kept trying to talk to me. I didn’t want him to. I called my mom and asked her to come get me and Bob came to pick me up shortly after. I ended up back together with Eric I’m sure it was less than a week later. But Bob kept coming around. I wanted him to. I really liked him. Like a lot. I went to his house once. I met his snake, Diablo. And learned that he wore pantyhose when he went hunting (“because they’re warm”). He came to see me at work one night right before I was closing up and put what appeared to be an empty Pepsi bottle on the counter. I went to throw it away and he was all “don’t throw him away!” He brought me a tiny little white mouse. He bred them for his snake. The breeders were named Bitch and Balls. He thought this one was cute so he gave him to me. I named him Buddy and had him for a year and a half. He was awesome. Bob wasn’t 21 yet so we would just sit and talk in his truck. I don’t remember what we would talk about. Just everything. Eric and I got engaged in May. Bob was heartbroken. But he still came to see me. He still called me. We were sitting in his truck one day and he said his friends kept telling him to stop coming to see me. But he said he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He wanted me however I would let him. He made me a mixtape. I made him one too. The songs I remember that were on the one he gave me were “Baby Blue” by Badfinger and “Come on inside” by Izzy Straddlin. I don’t remember what songs were on the one I made except “Runaway Train” by Soul Asylum.  He turned 21 on July 30, 1995. Our after work conversations moved from our cars to bars. I remember sitting at a table across from him and him reaching for my hand. It felt so perfect, I ached. I remember one time drinking with him and talking about feelings and being drunk and telling him I had to go because I wanted him and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stop myself. I had to pull over on the way home to pee. There was so much snow.

This is the sequence I’m not clear on. But I think it went like this.

I met him at a bar... like a VFW type bar.  We had sex outside by a lake or pond or something. Someone’s yard?

I got married in August of ’95. He bought me a sunflower throw blanket as a wedding gift. (I still have it.)

I met him at a bar and Nick was bartending. His hair was black.

I was at a bar with my sister and brother-in-law and Kristin. Bob was there. We played pool. He asked me to dance. I did. I wish I remembered what song. I feel like it was Wonderful Tonight. Kristin was staying at my house. Eric was in Atlantic City for pool league. So this would have been March or May ‘96. Bob came over. Kristin went to bed. Bob and I hung out  in the living room. Things started happening... as was inevitable because we were so good together. Andy called. I hurried him off the phone. Bob asked if it was Eric. We went back to business. Then Eric called. I was naked. Off the phone and back to Bob. The sex that night was incredible. Easily the best sex of my life. By a large margin. Sweaty naked pounding long multiple orgasm multiple times. We’d finish and lay there wrapped up in each other until it was time to go again. I remember him saying that was how it should be. And I remember my arms around his neck not wanting to let go. To this day, I know Kristin had to have heard us but neither of us has ever mentioned it.

His dad died (shot himself in the head) and he called me. We sat outside on the sidewalk and he cried to me about his dad and about us. And god I loved him I did. I wish I would have told him. I wish I would have chosen him.

We were so close and so familiar.

I think it’s possible that part of my amnesia from that time was due to him. Because I broke his heart. And in doing so, I destroyed my life.

We’re different people now. But I wonder who I would be today if I didn’t, for whatever stupid fucked up reason, choose Eric time and time again. Who would I be if I’d have chosen Bob.

Where did all these memories come from? How do I make them stop? Do I want them to?

I am so proud

And just like that, my brain is back to normal functioning.  Maybe I have finally had my closure.  I don't know.  I'm not sure.  But I feel good today.  I don't feel destroyed like I usually do.  And I mean, it usually lasts for... well, ever.

I think I'm okay.

Today is good.

It's been a while

wow.  I never thought I'd be here again.  I mean that by here, typing in this blog, and here, like back to John brain.

My dad called me last Tuesday and told me Peg died.  Firstly, she was a dear friend of mine whom I have loved and cherished for over 20 years.  Secondly, she's John's mother.

Shawn and I went to the funeral home on Friday night.  Joe (John's brother) leaped from his chair to hug me when he saw me.  John was talking to somebody so we waited until he was done.  Our eyes met and I got a feeling he was both surprised and not surprised to see me.  He hugged me and I put my face in his neck (I don't know why) and he put his in mine and made a sound.  Like a sigh and an mmmm.  It took me off guard so I pulled away and said, "How are you doing?"  Not in a casual way but in that funeral way.  He said, "Good.  I'm good.  Did you see Harry Steiner?"

My dad said Chick wouldn't recognize me but I think he did.  He looks terrible.  So old and fragile.  Not like my Chick.  He grabbed my hand and I bent down to kiss his cheek.

I said goodbye to Peg and then we left.  On our way out the door, my dad and stepmom were talking to John's wife.  We paused there briefly and she said she doesn't think she'd ever met me before.  I think I managed to not roll my eyes and she hugged me.  Apparently my dad and stepmom hang out with them sometimes.  Like seriously?  I could puke.  But he's been friends with John longer than I've known him so... ugh.

John was in the hall talking to some people.  I waved goodbye and he said, "wait.  Did you see Harry Steiner?"  Like that's the only thing he can say to me.  So awkward.

And now, of course, I am back to feeling destroyed.  The same way I always feel when I see him, hear his name, have a dream about him, hear a song that reminds me of him...

and so it goes.

"Stone Cold"

Stone cold, stone cold
You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor
Stone cold, stone cold
Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore

when darkness gets there first

“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.” – Terry Pratchett


As he snores beside me the thoughts in my head repeat themselves like a broken record. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not talented enough. I’m not good enough. I am just simply not enough. With every thought, every fiber of my being, I doubt myself. I lay there thinking of all the dreams that have been lost. Even sleep itself seems a far away dream. So I just try to keep up with my racing thoughts, refusing to look at the clock. I think about all the failures and all the mistakes I’ve made throughout my life. There are many. Regret fills me and makes my stomach ache. I think about all the things I should do better. I think about how much I wish I was a better person.

There are times when the darkness hits me hardest when I’m sleeping. When I’m blissfully unaware of all the horrible things that life can throw at you. When my defenses are down. That’s when the darkness can hurt the most. I spend so many hours wrestling with my thoughts that it’s no longer that I can’t sleep; it’s that I am afraid to. Every heartbeat brings a new thought. And as my heartbeat quickens my thoughts flash through my mind like faces through the windows of a speeding train. And they start to hurt; the heartbeats and the thoughts… the self-torture. But still I lay there hoping eventually I will fall asleep from exhaustion. Hoping that I will tire myself out running from darkness.

Suddenly his alarm goes off and I know morning is coming. I toy with the idea of just getting out of bed. Maybe I’ll make myself some breakfast, watch the NHL channel, go outside with the dogs and drink a cup of coffee; do things to keep my mind occupied. Instead I stay in bed and try to embrace the darkness. It won’t last much longer. The sun will be coming up soon. I will lie silently in bed and try to familiarize myself with the demons that inhabit the dark. If I can teach myself to recognize them, maybe I can befriend them. Then I won’t be as afraid of them the next time they appear.

Sleep finally starts to take over about the same time my alarm sounds. I roll out of bed still haunted by the thoughts that took control of my night. I try to be optimistic about the day that lies ahead. I will have to deal with the twists and turns that present themselves to me. After every sleepless night, there are still more challenges that lie ahead and somehow, someway, I have to try to put a positive spin on that. I have to and that is all.

I’ve never been one of those people who think you can “choose” happiness. You can’t wake up one day and say, “I’m not going to be sad anymore,” and have it be so. What you can do is figure out a way to look at the good things… count your blessings. Each time a dark or scary thought comes to mind, think about the beautiful and bright aspects of your life. That can be hard to do sometimes.

We all have our own hole that we climb into from time to time. What makes us different is what we do while we’re there. Do you want to feel your feelings? Or would you rather take something to make them go away? I will always choose my feelings. Always. Sure, sometimes I wish I was one of those people who can see silver-linings and feel blessed and happy all the time. But then I wonder if I could ever again be filled with such joy that renders me speechless. Could I appreciate light without dark? My feelings aren’t always pretty because I have shadows. Most days I am okay with that. If I could only find a way to release the anxiety and the misery that too often comes with them.