are you worried?

Last night. He started laughing. It was sweet. We were both laughing. I was so tired. I said what are you laughing at? He said, are you worried about me turning 37? And I said no, it just occurred to me that I'm getting old. I'm so tired. And it was funny. Surreal. Comfortable. We both laughed, collapsed. I'm tired too.

After a few minutes we got into our sleep position. I talked about I don't remember what. How much I love him, maybe, how nice it was, maybe, that he had to turn 36 first before 37. I know-- it was whether he would want someone younger when I get a few years older, (although the age difference won't depreciate). Are you ready for sleep? he said. But I'm not tired anymore.

He said, the problem is, I keep going in and out of dreams as we talk. That's not a problem, I said. And he said, this is as good as it gets. And then I must have fallen asleep.

i love my life

So many people aren't happy. People in nice, solid relationships that seem to have it all together. And secretly, they're jealous of the guy who just divorced his wife and moved into an apartment with nothing but a bed and flat-screened tv. People overwhelmed with their own success, drowning in material possessions and walking through life doing what they are supposed to do instead of what fulfills them, feeds their spirit. Taking life too seriously. I dream of walking away, leaving everything, not looking back, starting over, he said.

And that's what he needs. Forget marriage counseling and psychiatrists and separate holidays. Life's too short to waste time trying to convince yourself that happiness isn't necessary. That if you're able to exist without going utterly insane, that's enough. I feel so lucky, it was so easy, but so many people are scared to do it. I guess it was hard, but it was so necessary for me that I really didn't have a choice.

I told my psychologist about what you did, walking away from everything, and she says you are a very brave strong girl, she said. No, it was easy. And now I never have to be one of those people. It's so wonderful. Never have to act happy, act satisfied, act loving and caring about someone I can't really stand being around. Never have to feel his touch and try to convince myself that it's not that bad, close my eyes so he doesn't see the disgust. I never could hide my feelings. Turn off the lights and get it over with. Or drink a bottle of wine to conjure up that lust that should come naturally, effortlessly.

Because they say that it's work, that it's hard work to make a relationship work, but it shouldn't be. I bought into that for far too long. It shouldn't be that hard. It should be compromise, yes, but not changing, giving in until you forget what it feels like to be you. It should be easy. Love is easy. Happiness is easy. The rest is a lie.

And now he says, I love my life. I love being me. And he means it. It sounds silly to say out loud, but it's the most wonderful thing you could say really. And I feel it too. I love my life. No, everything's not perfect, far from really, I don't even have a living room couch or dining table and my checkbook's close to overdrawn. People would not be jealous of me. But I love being me. I love my life. It's even better because I know what it's like to be on the right track, doing what you should do, the whole college, job, homeowner, married track, and I know how wrong it was. So I'm free. I'm potential. I'm whatever the hell I want. And I'll never get caught in the trap again, I'll make sure of that. And he's right, it just doesn't get any better than this. except, it's getting better every day.

crazy is relative, isn't it?

everything's so tangled up, i feel like it's a struggle just to keep my head above water. and in the midst of all the craziness and being out of control, beyond my control, there's the feeling i have whenever he's close. you know that feeling, like nothing can hurt you, like this moment is the only one that matters. Safe, that's what he feels like. and home. it adds to the confusion. you forget everything that's brewing outside, the storms and the rages that might happen. you forget that things aren't this perfect, until something horrible does happen and then it's too late. you know you should have known better, done things differently, but there really wasn't a choice to make, was there?

all of me

him: will you love me forever?

me: do you think it's too early to talk about forever?

him: do you?

i didn't answer. we were lying in bed with all the lights off. i was so sad. i tried to put it into words.

at first all of these changes. i was happy about them. anything felt possible. i was excited not to know what was next. but something happened. now I'm scared. i feel unsettled, like i need to be sure of what's going to happen next.

him: it's because now, you know what you want.

me: i think that's what it is.

him: and what do you want?

me: you.

him: you have me.

me: kind of.

him: no, not kind of. you have all of me. i want you to be sure of that, confident in that. it is settled.

i felt like i couldn't breathe. i felt myself clinging to him, my hands tightening on his skin. i wanted to cry, but i was too sad. those were the words i needed. i just wish they are true.

dashboard confessional

Your hair.
It's everywhere.
Screaming infidelities.
Taking it's wear.

your hair is everywhere, he says. i think of the song. he means it quite literally. before she comes over, he crams the sheets and bedspread into the washer or dryer. he learned to do that, the first time: it took me so long, he said, every time i turned the pillows over one last time, i found another strand. a hair doesn't mean anything i guess. but just in case, i sweep and take out the trash when she starts acting too unpredictable (crazy).

it seems to be the topic of the day. whose is this, pulling one long black strand out of his book. they know she has short hair, brown or i think i remember him saying it's blonde now. who knew it would be such an issue?

loved and lost

I tried not to be crazy about this, just to be logical and orderly and that was that. But now, I guess it's too late, I'm too involved or too much is at stake. What really? Just thinking I'm in love confused everything again. Am I? I feel like it. I feel that heart-ripping fear that it's going to end.

Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, he likes to ask. Yes, yes, yes, my immediate reply... But really is it? I'm not sure. I think not really. It makes everything harder to bear. If you have nothing to lose, you fear losing nothing. It's much simpler.

Before you know you can be this happy, this retarded happiness, this thinking that someone is so irresistibly wonderful that you need them all the time, you don't miss them. You are just you, numb and cold, but just you. You don't have to factor the possibility of this someone in your plans, in your dreams. don't have to include them, then fear including them, then try not to include them, although secretly you are still making decisions based on how you imagine your lives will work out together.

Then, when it's over (or when the infatuation has faded, sometimes it isn't over just yet) you despise the decisions you made. It seems so clear, why did you feel like that? why was he someone you thought you needed and wanted? why did you sacrifice so much of your precious time. you can't get it back.

And I figured out today that I am one person who craves stability. It's why I hate change. Why I always sit on the left side in the movie theater and sleep on the right side of the bed. Little examples, but it's the same applied to the big things. And while I've just made all of these drastic changes in my life and fancy I'm venturing into the unknown world of possibility, I've found and clung onto one person. Anchored myself to him. I'm madly, spinningly in love. Or maybe I'm just trying to balance myself in the unknown.

And he says things like we have a future. In a few years we'll move to New York, he says. And I start shuffling that into my ideas for how I wanted my life to be. And I've known him for three months. Maybe he means it, maybe he doesn't. It shouldn't even matter. Even if he does, so many things could happen. And I should have my own plans for my future... but that would mean accepting the probablity of being alone. Which I thought I was okay with before I met him. Which now I think I've always been scared of. It's easy to say I love to be alone when you have someone with you every night. So once again I'm a fake I suppose.

Now I keep thinking I want a baby. I want to get married again. If I'm really going to be honest: I was disappointed Saturday when I started my period. (I would never intentionally get pregnant, but I just love the thought that it could be possible. Things could be settled. My life could be decided without me having to do a thing. If I had a baby, it would be the center of everything. I wouldn't have to worry about fullfulling potential, navigating this life. Making a mess of everything.) I know it's horrible. Horrible timing. I know I hardly know him. I know it's not ideal. So, what's wrong with me?

The only thing I can blame it on is this hate of the unknown. It wears me out. I want it settled. I want to know this is real, this will last, this isn't a waste of time. That's something that's sure. A baby won't go away. And once you're married that's forever. It's a terrible attitude, but one I don't know what to do about. I get so depressed when I think too much about it. What is wrong with me? Logically, I know so much better. I want to keep anything possible, not jump into something until I'm completely sure. I don't want to be the kind of person who needs somebody. I want to be independent and happy with myself and alone. Maybe I need a psychaiatrist, too.

Logically, I'm a feminist. My secret thoughts apall me. I'm disappointed in myself. But I'm doing it all the same. I have this cycle lately. These ups and downs. Thinking, what am I doing? Then god, I'm silly, this is just love. Then again, what am I doing. I'm fighting and clinging to something simultaneously. I feel so conflicted, so complicated. Then it's simple again and just happy. Then conflicted, depressed, worried. I can't take it, and my period I guess doesn't help me feel sane.

I read my journal yesterday. My real journal. First I wrote an entry in it. And then I read it all from the beginning of January. And it was the same thing over and over. There it was in black and white. First, I'm so happy, so in love. Then, I'm crazy, what if I tricked myself, what if it's not real, it can't be real. Then, god, i've been silly, i'm so happy, so in love. Then, what am I doing, I am crazy again. That was yesterday's, the I'm crazy part.

Are daily flucuations in complete mindset normal? When is it going to end? It's already gotten out of hand. How many times have I said to him I want a baby or let's get married. Maybe we should both get divorced first, he says. I don't even know if I really want to, I just feel this craving for something. I'm not sure what, just that's how it manifests itself. I've never felt this way before. Maybe it's my biological clock. I am getting older. Maybe it's just him, and nothing else. I really do love him. Maybe I'm scared of losing him, just because he's wonderful and I love him. There really aren't many people like him. He's so... perfect. He should think I'm crazy by now. I think I said i love you after like two weeks. But maybe he started it. Maybe he feels as crazy as I do. I do know this: I need to figure it out soon before I ruin everything. Before I make a mess of things again.

you are beautiful

you think I'm beautiful. i didn't believe it at first. you said it at the least glamorous times. dirty hair and dark eyes smoking cigarettes downstairs. snow-soaked with smeared mascara at the greek restaurant. sleep-eyed and bed-headed after a long, sweaty night. at first i thought you were making fun of me.

but i look at you the same way. i love those moments no one else sees. i love you most at those imperfect, unexpected, stolen moments. sleeping sweetly on your side when i get home late at night. feverish and vomiting with that 24-hour virus. albert einstein hair on your way to the shower. those moments make you mine. i think when you say you are so beautiful, you are really saying how beautiful this thing that we have is.

and i think it is beautiful too.