I spent some time this evening reflecting and pushing myself out of my comfort zone and letting myself talk to others and be myself again and what I realized is that my struggle is not singular. If I’m having a bad weekend, someone else reading this is struggling as well. I want you to know that even if your heart is breaking, your body is aching, your mind feels lost and you feel fragile…you are not alone and someone cares deeply for you. The things that happen are hard and heart-breaking and stunning, but they are not the end for you.

Continue to grow and love and move forward. I’m going to try to do the same along with you.

It never occurred to me that the people I’d left along the way weren’t really gone. For the longest time I was such a black and white thinker that I’d written those relationships off as lost to me.

And then I found Facebook. Because I’m an introvert, social networking draws me like flies to honey. I can speak to people quickly and efficiently, which also hits my firstborn tendencies, and feel like I’m connecting without losing the energy that I lose in face-to-face interaction.

And then I started exploring.

And found the little girl from down the farm road that I used to play with often. I road my green bike with the banana seat to her house frequently. And not only did she remember me, but she was delighted to hear from me. We still had the connection that we had even then.

And I found the first friends I had when I finally started elementary school. And then those when I moved to a new town.

I found my first group of friends from middle school. We were so close for those four years. It was like we picked up where we left off. The best friendships are always like that, aren’t they?

I found my high school best friends and my college best friends. I found people who weren’t best friends, but that I like more as adults than I did as children. They have grown into amazing people that I love.

Through other social networking sites I have found people that I love more and more each day.

For me, I think it was just a reminder that, though there are times I feel alone and have certainly felt alone in the past, I never was. They were with me. They missed me. They were there.

And they still are.

Livvy was born three weeks before my junior prom. As such, my mother didn’t have time to go dress hunting with me or even see me before my junior prom. Thankfully, my aunt stepped in and green eyes and I had a fine night. I think. I don’t remember much of it because there was so much emotional turmoil around that time, both with his absence and Livvy’s health.

Livvy eventually came home and green eyes eventually drifted away and a new normal came to me. It wasn’t without much resistence on my part, however. I lost 30 pounds simply because I wasn’t interested in eating. I was depressed and had lost interested in most everything and everyone around me. I was starting to finally feel like myself when I developed what felt like the worst cold ever. My nose started dripping like a faucet and I’d rubbed the thing raw. My best friend, at the time, was a boy we later determined was related to me somehow. He and I went to Wal-mart, where I worked (I have SO many stories about that place) and saw the new guy stocking the shelves. A cute new guy. One I’d only seen in passing while we were zoning the area at night. I’d been lucky enough to help him a couple of times.

I’d never been a forward kind of girl. I’m shy, especially where my looks are concerned and even with the weight loss, I was sure he wasn’t interested in me. Nevertheless, I went up to him with my dripping, peeling nose and started talking to him. He talked back and seemed amused by what I was saying. Eventually we made a date. One date turned into several and we dated on and off, though mainly on, throughout my senior year of high school. He was a few years older than I was and was very different from the guys I went to school with. He introduced me to “No diggity” (which is still one of my favorite songs) and was probably one of, if not THE nicest person I’ve ever dated. He also took me to Olive Garden for the first time in my 17 years.

I don’t know anyone that didn’t like Aaron. He made friends with all of my friends and the people at work adored him. The girls at work really adored him. He kept his eyes on me. I felt adored. His sister and brother felt like my family. I thought a lot of them and still do. I have no idea what my senior year would have been like if his kind spirit hadn’t been a part of my life. My family was dealing with a lot of issues, not just a new baby. He was there for me and I will always appreciate that about him.

He was also my prom date that year. Strangely enough, I remember most everything about that night. I remember sitting in the chair at my salon and watching my stylist place mini-flowers in my hair and wondering if they looked Asian enough. Would Aaron like them? Was it too much? Were my bangs too high? The answer to the bang question was YES, THEY WERE TOO HIGH.

I remember the moment he saw me and the smile he gave me. I remember that his hands are really strong and when he held mine to walk me into the convention center that I couldn’t stop smiling. We sat with our friends and there was much dancing and laughing. When prom was over, we went to a friend’s house and, in my typical party animal fashion, I promptly fell asleep on the couch.

I’m a winner.

Three weeks later, I broke up with him for a guy who truly believed that there is a dark side and he was a jedi knight. I still have a lot of guilt about this and I’m so, so sorry, Aaron. It was among the most stupid decisions I’ve ever made. I’m a firm believe that things turn out the way they should, though, and I’m really glad that we are still friends. You were the best prom date ever.

For the duration of the marriage, he and I have always been on different schedules. I’m a night owl who can often be found doing homework or catching up on hobbies, like writing my blogs, at 3am. He is a morning person who dislikes waking up after 10am and often wants to be asleep by 11pm. Every single night he is asked “Why do you have to do that sleep thing? Hang out with me!!!” Because, really, who wouldn’t rather hang out with their wife than catch up on some zzzz’s, right?

So, as we are on different schedules and Leon’s job often requires that he work at home, as well as work, I often feel bereft that we haven’t had enough time to truly connect during the day. As such, when I get to bed, I’ll poke his shoulder.

You read that right. I purposely wake him up. Then I grin the most cherubic grin ever and say, “Hi, Leon!” He will sleepily open one eye, grin a bewildered grin and say, “Hi, baby” and depending on how tired he is do one of two things 1/say “I’m sleepy” and attempt to go back to sleep or 2/give me a hug and humor my need for conversation for about 5 minutes before he’ll say “I’m sleepy” and go back to sleep.

What’s even funnier about this situation is that we can have full, deep, meaningful conversations in 5-minutes about topics that most couples won’t bridge in waking hours. And Leon might even remember them in the morning. And I will most likely get the truth without all that logical, analytical crap clouding his mind when he’s sleepy.

Before you start thinking mean and stingy thoughts about what a selfish, needy wife I am, I want to clarify that this is not a one-way street. My husband likes that connection as well.

I’m a night reader. I always have been. Since the age of 8 or so, my mom would give me a book and let me read until I could sleep. That habit has followed me and my insomniatic self since I was young (yes, I know it isn’t conducive to good sleep habits), so I often lay in bed reading for hours.

Leon will roll over, gently peek out to see if I’m there reading, and if I am and he wants to talk, I’ll know it because he’ll start rubbing my shoulder and I’ll hear “Hey, baby.”

No, we aren’t a conventional couple. But we connect on the important issues and we have fun doing it.

Excuse me, I need to go wake up my husband.

Random thoughts

April 27, 2009 Dear men,
Women want to feel desired and adored. If you can accomplish these 2 things, you will have cornered the market on your woman. Flirting is an art.
Sincerely, Me

May 1, 2009

One of the small things in life that I greatly appreciate is my mailman. Every day he brings my packages to my door instead of putting notices in my box, which effectively saves me about 18 trips a week to the post office. He does this regardless of the weather. I’m thankful for him.

May 5, 2009

I gave my final today and said goodbye to my undergraduates. The pride I feel at watching them grow this semester is not unlike the pride I’ve found in being a parent. Teaching is incredibly rewarding and I’m going to miss it while I spend more time focusing on my education.

Every now and then I think both Husband and I feel like we missed something, but it never feels overwhelming that we missed those “typical experiences.” Husband had plenty of odd experiences in his teen years, which I won’t expound on as this isn’t his blog and if he ever wants to share about the time the police came after him and his friends for walking through the drive-thru at Taco-Bell, that will be his story to tell. Just like Whitney Houston, “he partied” and I don’t think he feels like he missed much. He did the dorm thing and had a group of friends.

I was the exact opposite. I lived at home, did the community college thing, spent my time with a crazy boyfriend who I went to high school with, and worked quite a bit to pay for college, my car and other expenses. I can’t understate the craziness of the boyfriend. He actually believed he had the Force. From Star Wars. And that he was from the Dark Side. Go on and laugh. I’ll wait. I still don’t know what I was thinking and neither did my friends and family at the time. They patiently waited for me to screw my head on properly.

Because of that situation, I had alienated just about everyone I knew, as it goes with obsessive, crazy, nutcase relationships. There were no parties because I worked on the weekends. I also didn’t drink. This meant that when I went to the parties, I wasn’t exactly the type of person that everyone was happy to see.

So, where am I going? Our early 20s were spent raising a child, going to school and trying to make it out of the hole and into a home. Now, I’m almost to 30 and I spend my Saturday nights hanging out at home and watching the Scrubs I’ve tivo’ed all week. I still don’t do parties like the Sex and the City 30′s singles I know, my life is comfortable. I’ve managed to get work on my class done this weekend and some minor studying for my mid-terms accomplished. I’ve written emails, responded to posts and spent a lot of time on my computer. I’ve played games with my son and napped with my husband.

No, my twenties aren’t typical. But they are mine and they are comfortable. I’ll take them.