Update, or It’s Time to Don the Oven Mitts

Heya, my innernets friends!  *wave*

I’ve been MIA for a bit, mostly due to 70-hour work weeks and a need for solitude.  But know that all is well, and I’ve come to terms with the shit I was going through a while back.  To sum it up, my ex and a friend of mine fell in love, and she moved to my former hometown to live with him and start a new life.  This news, coinciding with a MAJOR, MAJOR life change for me, basically ripped me apart.  Being thousands of miles from my support system and everything I’ve ever known and being sworn to silence about the whole thing coupled to turn my head into a nasty, self-destructive place.

Many have asked why I let this scenario bother me, given that I now live with the love of my life in what could be called paradise.  That’s a perfectly good question, one I asked myself many, many times in the midst of my emotional collapse.  The answer is not simple.  Many of you don’t know that I have a history of major depression with suicidal ideation and attempt.  After many years of hospitalization, therapy, and continuous self-examination, the trigger for my self-destruction was determined to be emotional rejection, primarily from a male.  The reasons behind this are countless and VERY deeply-rooted, and I’ve done my best over the past 32 years to come out victorious in my many battles with this issue.  Unfortunately, discovering that the circumstances behind my breakup last year were not at all what I thought they were sent me off the ledge once more.  Couple the demons with the facts that my rejector was now fully in love with a friend of mine, and that I was all the way across the country from everything I’d ever known, and that pretty much brings you up to date.

I have since dealt with this issue, and the other issues at the root of the problem.  I can’t say that I’ve beaten my demons for good, because it’s not a simple case of “the sads” with me.  But I have embraced my new life, and am working on bettering my situation on many levels.  I have accepted the unceasing love of my Mocha Man; I am amazed by his every facet on a daily basis.  I may never fully see myself as completely worthy of a man’s love, but I’m doing my best.

So, there ya go.  I won’t delete the previous posts, because they are a reminder to me of how easy it is for me to lose touch with reality in times of distress.  I need to remember, every day.  I need to see reality in its true light, and I need to be able to discern the veil of self-destruction when it comes to cover my eyes.

Thank you to those of you who helped me through this, my apologies to those of you who had to sit in the dark.  That matter wasn’t my choice, and I wish I could’ve let you in earlier.

Much love, and a blackberry pie in the works!

And now for something completely different.

Well, not really.  It’s completely related to all that shite I wrote last month, but I’m not ready to tackle it yet.  Or better yet, I don’t know if I’m allowed to discuss it publicly yet.

Yes, that was complete, unadulterated snark.  Deal with it. 

This post is a devotion to all the things I love about my Mocha Man, because I never, ever want to take him for granted.

I love his laugh, and the way his eyes twinkle.

I love his skin: the color, the softness, the warmth.

I love his twisted sense of humor.

I love his sense of adventure.

I love that he’ll eat ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING.  Especially absolutely anything that I cook.

I love that he cherishes the value of a good crap.

I love that he bought an orange couch.

I love that he adores red wine, the spicy, tannic, dry as sand kind.

I love that he trusts me completely.

I love that he loves my cats.

I love the way he lights up when I enter a room.

I love way he GETS me.

I love the way he smells.

I love the fullness of his lips.

I love his Sunday afternoon stubble.

I love the way he sees beauty in absolutely anything at all.

I love that he can express his love for me so openly.

I love his fearlessness.

I love his sense of integrity, and his insistence upon truth.

I love his sense of style.

I love his strength.

I love that he finds me beautiful no matter how fucked up my hair is when I wake up.

I love his goodness, and his respectfulness.

I love him, everything about him.

I am a very lucky woman.

This one’s for the guys…

Hey, hey, hey, zip your pants back up. I’m not that drunk yet.

Really, guys, I need your help. Well, more your input than your help. See, I’m one of those silly Romantic idealists who believes in the sanctity of marriage, and absolute monogamy, and prolonged celibacy between relationships, and all that sappy crap. My 31-year-old noggin’ still has dreams spinning around inside that show me getting married one day, to the most amazing guy who is as completely into me as I am into him, and pooping out a few kiddos, and sharing a gallon of bourbon-spiked prune juice as we motor on toward ancientdom.

Well, it DID have those dreams. Until recently.

(And let me interrupt myself to say that this is not one of those bullshit my-self-esteem’s-in-the-gutter-so-I’ll-whine-to-some-strangers-about-how-lonely-I-am posts. This is a serious ethical question I’m about to present. So, STFU and listen. )

My best friend and I were having a discussion the other day about heterosexual relationships, as we often do. The topic at hand was monogamy, and whether or not it was truly realistic to expect it of men. My initial reaction, of course, was, “DAMN STRAIGHT it is! If the guy I’m with feels the need to go poking around some other girl’s stinkhole, then obviously he has no idea what a gold mine he has in me and he can get his skanky ass right on out the door!” (Well, okay, maybe I didn’t use the word “stinkhole.”) But the more she spoke, the more I came to see that she might be right. Men, by nature, are wired to spread the seed, to fertilize vast and remote pastures, to, well, have unlimited spins at the “Wheel of Poon.” On a less biological and genetic diversity-driven level, most men would prefer to have multiple sexual partners as opposed to mating for life. On the conscious level, some would say that most men think with their other head. When posed with the question, “If it could be guaranteed that your significant other would never find out, would you be unfaithful?” the resounding answer is, “yes.” So, how realistic is it, my best friend pondered, to expect monogamy from men?

My inner Republican shrank away from this question, stunned and disheartened by the truth in what Mo had presented. But, but… most men get married, right?

Oh, and then there’s that.

I began to ask myself why it is that men propose marriage to the women they love? What do they want to get of the deal that’s worth stifling their internal need for “strange?” How realistic are they being with themselves when they promise to be faithful and true to one woman for the rest of their lives?

I know LOTS of men who have been unfaithful. I know plenty who make it a habit. Today I even heard one complain to his girlfriend that his fiancee was pissing him off with all the inane details of their wedding plans.

WTeverlovinF, y’all?

Don’t get me wrong, I know lots of women cheat, too. But when it comes down to it, most women genuinely WANT to spend the rest of their lives with one man. But, guys? Be honest. What drives you to pop the question? Is it pressure, or do you really, truly want that one woman, and only that one woman, to be with you till your time on this earth is done? When you say, “till death do us part,” do you MEAN it? And if so, what in God’s name would EVER make you think that it’s okay to go back on those words?

I’m starting to lose faith in the concept of marriage. I’m starting to think that not many men really, truly want to make a lifelong commitment to ANYONE, when the other option has so much biological pull. Let me hear from you, guys. I know lots of you are in amazing, beautiful marriages; you make me proud, guys. But I also know that many, many, many other guys aren’t so commitment minded.

So, let’s hear it. If it’s too personal, post anonymously. Your secrets are safe with me.

And of course, ladies, I want to hear from you, too.