So back to what I was saying before... a lot of things have changed since I last blogged on here, and regularly blogged in general. When I deleted my MySpace, I emailed myself all my blogs. This is because the first MySpace page I ever had chronicled soooo much of my life, I blogged sometimes twice a day... some of them were hilarious, some of them were about my pregnancy, discovering Felix was autistic, moving to Arizona, moving BACK to Minneapolis, my wedding, my divorce... everything. And one day, I got so pissed off, I deleted it. I always think that, in death, I might be able to read all those lost entries. I know that sounds shallow and self-centered, but they weren't just about me or my life- they were my only means of expression at the time, and people loved reading them. Long story short, I am quite an honest writer, and can sometimes get in trouble when I write. So while I think I've grown out of a surname like "Motley Kitten," I do have to admit that its literal meaning still does serve my personality well.
Right now I am struggling to keep my job, trying to finalize my divorce, trying to be a good mom (and also a good roommate to my friend Spike who is so patient with us... for now), and also... trying desperately to get over someone.
And that someone isn't my husband. Not by a long shot.
I have written about him many, many times since I first met him. Sometimes they were factual, sometimes romantic and flighty, sometimes angry and vengeful, sometimes pathetic and depressing, sometimes desperate and exhausted. Honestly, I could write about him until my hands fell off, and it just doesn't seem like I can ever get it all out.
I met him by accident. Shortly before I left Al, I was sitting on my mom's computer on a hot August day... we had just moved back from Arizona and were staying with her. i googled Felix's first and last name... it was a couple of boring British guys. Then I googled Lars' name... and there he was. I didn't know what I was doing at the time, and I often wonder, if I could go back in time and change things, would I? If I could have never known him, never started talking, never met in person during a Minneapolis snow storm, never left my husband, never sent each other care packages back and forth... what if? I guess it doesn't matter. The fact of the matter is, I fell in love with him. Ever since he flew back to Pennsylvania in December of 2007, I haven't forgotten the way his skin smells, the softness of his lips, the way his hands feel when mine are slipped into them. Both of us have done everything possible to pull away from one another, set boundaries on our friendship, all to no avail. Once, we went 8 1/2 months without speaking. I would send him text messages that I knew he wouldn't answer. And then one day, out of the blue... he did again.
I could dissect many things- that we are not attracted, but obsessed, that we are co-dependent, that we need to make a clean break... we've said it all, seemingly a million times. The other day, he wrote me a story... I tried very hard to decipher it without getting my hopes up. One of the last conversations we had on the phone, I called him and said, "Do you want to come to Minneapolis?" and he said yes. Every day I think of seeing him again for real, but since that day, he skirts the reality of it happening under the rug. I don't know if its a desire to string me along, or a fear of being unable to make it out here, or anxiety about somehow disappointing one another. Maybe one day I will look back and read these words, and laugh at how stupid and naive I was. Right now, all I feel is longing and embarrassment for being so enamored with a man who absolutely takes my heart and squeezes it until there's no blood left in it.
This story is based on actual events (his friend from work really DID break her ankle, and he visited her... but while he was lost he found parallels to our relationship).
Here is his story. He titled it "Getting Lost:"
A friend of mine hurt herself recently. I decided to visit her and hopefully make her feel better. I took some time and did things I thought would cheer her up...make her happy, that way I wouldn't show up empty handed. I'm sure just the thought and effort of making the trip to visit was enough, but she's worth the effort. I set out unsure of where I was going and how to get there. I followed the directions she gave me but somewhere, I must have taken a wrong turn. Of course, at that time not realizing it...I kept pushing onward...getting farther and farther away from where my friend actually was. The roads seemed less an less familiar. Not just to me. To anyone. They hadn't been travelled near as often as the ones I was on before. There was some excitement to the idea of "getting lost" in these crazy woods that just got darker and darker as I continued on. The excitement and uncertainty distracted me from the fact that by now, I've surely gone the wrong way. No one would live out here and I had better turn around because sooner or later, I'm going to leave this dark place. Afterall, my friend was waiting on me and she was the reason I went out in the first place.
Turning around was hard. I couldn't find a place with enough room to swing my car around. The few places I did, I was distracted by something and missed my opportunity. Every intersection with another lonely road had me second guessing the way I came. It was almost as if these woods didn't want me to find my way...and maybe there was a part of me that didn't want to either. My head was swirling with thoughts. The way only your thoughts can when your in the midst of something like getting lost. I kept trying to focus on my friend...sitting by herself, hurting; needing to know someone cared about her. She didn't realize it. There was no way she could know, but what began as an innocent thing like a visit had somehow gotten me lost, far from home with seemingly no way back. Every mile looked the same. I couldn't tell if I was making my way back to her, or carelessly making my way deeper and deeper to this place she had accidentally brought me. As the trees kept passing me I thought of the things about her I love. Unique things about her and how there weren't many people I'd make this kind of effort for. I thought about how she was worth it. I also cursed her for giving me such terrible directions and inconveniencing me like this. Either way, the whole time...I thought about her.
Just then, I came to an intersection. I went with my gut and made a turn. Still unsure if my decision was the right one I drove until things seemed to get a little brighter. Eventually, cars began to pass me and I started seeing more houses, restaurants and gas stations. I stopped at one because my tank was on empty. I didn't have much money but filled the tank with what I could. When I paid the clerk, I didn't ask for directions. I got back in my car and continued on, taking a minute to look back in the rear view at the black forest behind me. Calling me. I was tempted, but she was waiting for someone to cheer her up and put her feelings before their own. She needed to know she had a friend. Just then, I saw a sign for Route 239. I knew where I was.
I took the turn and was on my way back. After only a few minutes, everything seemed familiar. I eventually found my way to where I think I went wrong. I continued to backtrack and after a few more miles and then there it was in front of me. A dark green road sign with the word "Winter". The one I passed almost two hours earlier and thought "...this can't be it. I haven't come far enough." I turned down this dirt road and her house was the first one on the left, just like the directions she gave me. I pulled in to the drive way. Gathered up the macaroni salad I had made, movies and magazines I had brought for her and made my way up the stairs. I opened the door and there she was, alone on the couch. She turned and looked at me with a big smile. I expected her to say "Did you get lost?", but she didn't. The first words out of her mouth were "...did I give you bad directions?". I paused for a minute and thought about that. "No, you didn't." I said. "It was kind of both of our faults." and laughed as I sat down next to her.
The real tragedy was that in getting lost, the two hours I could have spent with my friend I spent loosing myself in my attempts to keep her company. Now that I was finally here, I had only a few minutes before I had to leave. I know she appreciated my coming but deep down, I think she was sad that so much of our time was spent on me just trying to get there. We talked. I made her laugh. I told her stories about things and people she hasn't seen since her accident. I glanced at my watch knowing I should have left twenty minutes ago and that I would certainly be late, but she waited for me. I had a very hard time leaving and neither of us brought up the what time it was. When I did finally stand up, I leaned over and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I could tell she didn't want to see me go. I was the only person that came to her.
The last thing that I told her is that I'll come back soon.
