Reality vs. Hope

I’m the type of girl who is very much OK on my own... I have learnt to do so many things for myself and by myself to the point where if I don’t do something alone for a month it feels like my world is shrinking and I can’t breath... melodrama aside. I have made myself accustomed to this life just in case I end up dying alone as the coloured Bridget Jones eaten by pit bulls or 5 million roaches. I do however have an ember of hope that the love list that I have created in my mind will eventually materialise and then my life will burst into colour and song like a Bollywood movie... aaaaah; hope is a funny thing until it meets reality!

I’m generally confused and suspicious of everything that is man! And a very interesting conversation with an online contact confused me more than a dyslexic reading a 500 word essay. My contact, whose name shall not be mentioned (as he so politely requested) is married, yes married and after 15 years of marriage, he says, and I quote “wants’ different pussy”. I don’t understand so I probe to try and figure out what the hell his motive is. Something must be driving this mission, they must have issues, I'm trying my best to find an excuse for this man, but he remains firm that there is nothing wrong in his marriage. In fact he says and again I quote “she is awesome”. I think he feels his honesty will prove to be non threatening to women and perhaps he is right and there is a woman out there willing to participate in the destruction of what he calls a great marriage.

I stop typing and slowly process this information... I am a super mom, great conversationalist, funny smart and hot and still no amount of cheesecake or maid’s costumes can save me from the painful whims of a man. Now this is just a conversation with one man, so I best not make irrational assumptions, however, this one conversation coupled with my personal experiences, makes me believe that no matter my worth it may never be up to me whether or not a partner may remain a loyal one. It could just be a sad need inside me to expect nothing but assholish assholeness from assholes. Oh, my bad, did that come out bitter?

And even though I was hopeful that after my very blunt and clear conversation with him that he may give up his pursuit of a destructive fantasy, but the reality is that he would just go on to send random women pictures of his not so enticing penis J True story!

I am reminded of how little control I have when it comes to matters of the heart. In life there are no guarantees and whether I love a little or a lot, my heart will always be exposed. I could use this information to feed my recently re-inspired bitterness and scare every woman into forever avoiding love or I can learn to take a few more risks. Honestly, even though right now I have to settle for rechargeable batteries, candles and very strong wrists, I remain hopeful and my reality is that every adventure I say yes to brings me closer to a fear free relationship with a one pussy loving man!

Funny thing about the truth!

In relationships it’s the one thing that once untold trust can never be recovered and in break ups it's never spoken. It’s also the one thing that people don’t like sharing in fear of hurting someone. I do however believe that lying is not about not wanting to hurt the other person, but more the fear facing actual consequences and even the fear of what that persons hurt may do to your reputation and perhaps even your vision after being stabbed in the eye with a broom stick.

Many say that they would prefer the truth no matter how painful, but that my friends, I believe to be a lie. For years I have expected and preached the truth, but did I really want it. Would the truth keep me from breaking or would I take a larger lesson from it and most of all would it give me closure? I feel strongly about the truth. Without it I feel betrayed, less respected and even insulted. I have however learnt to look at the small untruths differently since sitting on the outside of relationships and also having been lied to too many times. I do not condone it, but I do understand it. I have ended many relationships with a lie and have been lied to the same.  And by lying I know I have deprived that person an opportunity of growth, well only in that one very small case. I should have told him that his manner in which I witnessed him caring for himself told me that he is a lazy person and incapable of caring for anyone one else if he could not even wipe the food from his chin.

But pain is pain is fucking pain, whether its sugar coated with an “I’m not ready for the level of commitment you expect” or a blunt “I really just wanna start sleeping with someone else, anyone else”. It just mustn’t happen to me, but I’m very ok with using a classic breakup line, but hate the insult of it being used on me. 

There are different levels of lying I guess. Levels of betrayal or at least levels of pain you feel when the truth finally comes out and you bet your pansy ass it does. The biggest betrayals are those little self lies. Ja ja… lets not pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.

Those:

It was only that one time…

He will feel the same eventually; it just takes men longer…

I will lose enough weight to fit into that halter dress…

I can't do this...

LIES!!

All little lies...

We lie to ourselves about bad relationships, bad men, men who don’t love us, men who don’t want us and we keep doing it over and over. And as soon as I stopped lying to myself I stopped lying to the men I know. There are men I have been stringing along for quite some time now, purely for my ego. And the moment I got real with myself I started getting real with them. I told the TRUTH! It didn’t really feel good at first and I didn’t do it for them. I was just sick of making excuses to not meet them and to not wanna hang out and to just well…. To just NOT! Now I have no daily conversations with my contacts, but I feel free. And perhaps that old saying of it being able to set you free, the truth has an amazing light to it. And now wonder how I could ever have gone without it. 

So until I fuck up again, I say

Satsang - remain in the company of the highest truth.

Never go full retard!

Yesterday morning something funny happened to me, no my skirt didn’t fall to my ankles on a busy street, that’s sooo last year! Blissfully walking up to the building I work in, I walked passed a guy I see every morning and every morning he looks at me and watches me, after which I walk awkwardly up to the automated doors. Yesterday I decided to be brave a look back and with a huge smile on his good looking face, he said good morning! I skrikked so big I nearly walked into the glass door. For those of you who know me will know this to be true about me!.

Blushingly I turned my head away from the glow of the hot guy and smiled and calmed myself with a reminder that he could not possibly have been checking me out. And then I rewound and replayed the scene in my head and blushed again and then brought myself firmly back to earth. This morning as if he were waiting to see me, he said good morning again. This time holding my stare and me praying I don’t slip and hope that I pulled my skirt down properly and my panty was in no way visible. Yes this has also happened before! I smiled at him and gave him a firm nod. Aaaaaaaaargh… I should have said something ne! Ai Megan!

 

Then the battle started, yes the one I have with myself on a regular basis. The “did he check me out” and “of course he was just being a nice cheery morning person” conversation with myself. I decided the only way to settle this is by making historical reference to my life, well to my interaction with men in general.

SO Here is a hot guy with a pretty smile looking at me. Me! Now why on earth is it so difficult for me to believe that he could possibly into me? And I’m not ugly, and I have at least 30 reasons why I love myself and deserve to be loved. I can't remember them now, but I'm sure I have it written down in my book of affirmations. So the conversation with myself got deeper, like that look that Bill gives Sookie.

And my history came flashing at me like that time my mom threw the ashtray at me. So here it is.

All the guys I dated were, er, how can I put it… nothing great to look at. And I always told myself it’s because I’m not shallow and I like no other woman will be the one to love for who that man is or could be. Now if that were really the case, how come they all turned out to be less than the toe jam? WHYYYYYYYY???

I never chose the lions, because in my mind, a lion would never go for the likes of me, a gazelle. Yes wildlife references seem appropriate, since my life is like a pretty girl bleeding in a vampire movie.

Ok let me get back to my point. Losers all so much a part of my life and past. And this is where my internal monologue has taken me to the point where I have to be honest about the fact that I date them because the retard in my head tells me I ain’t worthy of anyone better. So if they hit on me I don’t see it because they just trying to be nice or even trying to hook up with my hot friend. Now this may seem to be pathetic, but since I expect honesty from all I am choosing to be honest about this darkness that has held me back from being the best slut I can be! We all have our insecurities and even though my world consists of pure love and real friendships, my life is also on occasion dictated by that silly thing called self worth. Never feeling good enough or strong enough or hot enough. I'm convincing at my quest of telling men to not even bother, because I will never meet their expectations. Hardly asking if they can meet mine!

I’m freeing myself of that inner retard and only bringing that bitch out when I’m stoned.

How about tomorrow night!!

It’s a date…

Me, my retard and the next ugly guy I’m never gonna date!

This one goes out to the one I love!

I have been dating for what seems like forever and have been sorely disappointed and gravely hurt. And many will feel that this is my reason for remaining forever single. Even I thought this. I put it down to fear of pain and rejection. What I was not admitting to was that every man I have ever dated never had the ability to love me the way I wanted or needed.

My very recent failure of a relationship was a challenge to begin with, but here was a man who treated me with so much respect and had so much love for me that I was overwhelmed. Yes, yes, yes I also put it down tot he fact that it’s difficult for us girls, use to the abuse of the bad boys, to accept love of this magnitude. This, I fear, was not the case. The love I had for him was real to the extent where I was willing to hang up my letter “S” and live semi happily after as society dictates. I tricked myself! So many people around me thought that being on my own was making me unhappy and me, like a prize idiot, believed them. Thus my search has lead me to many meaningless encounters and one almost real relationship.

After a very short while with this man, I felt my life changing and the decisions I was making contradicting what I ultimately wanted for myself. And I became extremely unpleasant and unhappy. I stuck it out for months and forced myself to find happiness in the mundane acts of a relationship. And then just before walking away, I realized it was ME vs. US. I was sad and unhappy!

I had to think about what he wanted to do and what he wanted to eat, where he wanted to go and the kind of sex he wanted and to be considerate to his needs. Its all too much for a self absorbed cynically morbid woman like me. I know it all sounds so trivial, but this is my HAPPY! I have already spent nearly all of my life considering other’s needs and wants and excluding my own. Was I about to spend the rest of it doing the same? OH NO!!

Consider me selfish or bitter or any other creative box you would like to put me in, but I know that this time right now and for a moer of a long time, this time is mine. My love affair with myself has already started and is flourishing, with very little compromise. We love the same food and smoke the same cigs and we have learnt to treat each other with respect. It’s a love that can be challenged from time to time, but a love worth fighting for. And in the words of Michael Masser and Linda Creed "The greatest love of all is happening me; I found the greatest love of all inside of me!"

No one has topped that feeling of happiness when sitting on the beach with my favourite book wondering what tomorrow’s adventure is going to teach me.

My worth has been discovered, by none other than me. Its only a recent affair, but its 31 years in the making and I'm not about to squander it for a space taking, pee standing penis minder with a lazy non kitchen cleaning attitude!

Stepping Stone

I went hiking the weekend past and boy did I abuse my body, it took me the rest of that day and the next to recover L… Was it worth it? Will I do it again? Hell Yeah!! I suffer from short term memory loss and will find myself in a body aching situation very soon again! This not being the point I wish to make, let me get to it then! Ah Ha, the stone.

My son is very cute and every so often he brings me a stone to tell me that while he was playing or walking or running or doing whatever it is that 8 year old boys do, he was thinking about me. It melts my heart every single time and my home is a shrine to collected stones from all over; peoples driveways, the parking lot, the beach the mountain, basically from anywhere in the world of an 8 year old. And on this muscle bursting hike, I decided I’m gonna get him a nice little stone to show him that I was thinking about him and that I missed him. It took us just over 2 hours to make it to the top and I kept looking down hoping to find that perfect stone.

Some were sooo pretty and others quite unusual and some resembling other inanimate objects, such as birds and hearts and so forth. And every time I’m ready to pick one up I think 2 things, do I really smaak like carrying it all the way to the top, I mean and I’m not the smallest of girls so to carry more than my weight is possible, but not very comfortable. The other thought was, what if I take this one and then I stop looking and there may be a better one and while I’m holding onto this stone, I could miss out on the best stone of my life… yes, I am very passionate about stones. So I pass by all these stones that I could possibly take with me on my journey, but I choose to go on, stone free. At the top, while taking in this beautiful breathtaking view and the road that lead me to this point, I wondered if I missed a really good stone, the right one for me maybe. I didn’t worry too much, knowing that my journey was not over; I was determined to settle for at least one damn stone. With empty hands I shall not end this day!

I found it of course, still having concerns as to whether it was good enough and am I prepared to take on this weight even though the stone was not extraordinary and exactly what I hoped for, it served that specific function that I needed it to.

Do I have the right stone? I have no idea

Should I know what the right stone for me is? Probably, but I pride myself on ignorance, it’s my defense against the dark arts of life.

Is there a future for this stone and I? I don’t know.

What I do know is that I picked up this stone and took it home, my son loves it and so do I. Will this stone be part of my décor or will it contribute to the foundation of my absolutely fabulous future? I have it so this means I must be interested in the outcome, but knowing for sure was never my forte, experimenting however, I am much better at.

I’m not making plans and I’m not changing anything, I am and will participate as I am hopeful that the stone that provoked so much thought can make me feel like this one thing is the one thing that I know for sure.

My Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I wanna know if you can pay for you own movie

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I wanna know if you can do your own washing and get your own beer.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon

I wanna know if you have and interesting view point on life.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.

I wanna know if I am important enough to tell the truth to.

I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;

And stand up to your mother and side with me.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty

And if you can remind me when I don’t

I want to know if you can live with failure

Because every now and then I am imperfect.

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have

I want to know if you can have that and feel no need to make it known to the world and find comfort in the fact that it is no one else’s business.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here

I wanna know if you know when its time to leave you should.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied

I wanna know if you can talk so much kak that you laugh until your stomach hurts and you fart out loud.

I want to know if you can be alone with me and not feel the need to poison the silence with words when only your presence is necessary.

This is my invitation to you and only if all of these can be accepted so shall you

I know that this may be plagiarism to an extent, but I do feel that since I try my very best to live my life by The Invitation it’s only fair that those wish to be a part of mine should accept my invitation and NO it’s not a FB friend request.

OUT!

Sucker for punishment

Bit my lip badly yesterday and its super sore, but I find myself rubbing my tongue against it and slightly grazing my teeth on it to make myself flinch from the discomfort. And just as I am constantly pestering my physical wounds I do so with my emotional.

Sending an email after he does not show up for a date…

Becoming friends with him after dropping on and off the radar at random moments…

Responding to sms’ after finding out he is married…

Welcoming him back into my life after he left me to raise my son alone…

Seems there is a bit of a pattern developing here! And as I’m sitting her writing this I’m thinking “Yor Megs catch a wake up!!”

My friends come to me with all their stories and my most common advice to them is “Leave the vark”. My friends know that I don’t take kak and don’t make excuses for the assholes that treat you kak! Big Bek will tell anyone to piss off and advise my friends of doing the same. I force them to be harsh towards the people that have caused them the most harm. Yet I have the longest history of giving second chances! Mostly because I am slightly older than all of my friends (not put together). Without explanation to them or anyone, not even myself. It pisses me off to see my loved ones in pain because there is nothing I can do to help. How about me? What about my pain? How do I stand up for myself after being abused, neglected and rejected?

I don’t that’s what I do.

So I am hoping this little realization does 3 things

1. Make me realize that I have to love myself enough to not want to see myself in pain
2. Not be so hard on my friends and their choices
3. End my self-destructing relationships once and for all!

"We don’t mean to remain in pain, but if it’s all we know then what else can a self loathing writer of blogs do?"