It’s Simply About The Little Things

We’ve all heard it before: “Appreciate the little things you have in life. Not everyone is so lucky.” Or some variant. Either way the point is the same.

I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that; whether it was my family or friends trying to talk me down from rash decisions or if it was me being the creepy creeper I am and eavesdropping on so many different conversations. It’s bound to be somewhere in the thousands.

I used to have a really hard time understanding that. I had to go through quite a bit to even get close to what I think is right. This is a very recent revelation. Unlike most of my other blogs, I didn’t take time to sit and think everything out and sort my thoughts for a few days. So be patient with me guys, this may not make any sense at all.

This morning, I’m sitting in the recliner with some terrible music on. Terrible, but I love it anyway. The sun is shining in through the window on my right effectively warming my soul. I’m relaxed with my morning iced coffee, I’ve got my cigarette. The squishiest loaf of a cat is (was) on the armrest to my left purring away (he turned into a dick and was banished). The love of my life is on the bed next to me taking part in his morning ritual, which consists of watching trashy YouTube compilations and ignoring his friends. God, I love him so much. It was in this moment that I realized that for the first time in my entire life I’ve discovered true happiness. I thought I’d experienced it before, but clearly I was wrong. This is the best feeling in the entire world. I couldn’t be more grateful.

This also brought me to another realization. This moment is fleeting, and I have to love it for all it’s worth and hope to every power that I never forget it. Having a history of depression, I know that this afternoon I could slip into a suicidal fit regardless of how perfect everything is. I understand that not everyone suffers from depression, but sadness can trigger in anyone. I’ve come to believe that this is just how life is. You just have to do your best to balance it and continue to strive for greatness.

If you’re depressed or sad right now and reading this, rest assured. It does get better in a sense. Patience is the key. Find the smallest thing you have that makes you happy and cherish in the small feeling. Yes, things are going to be hard, but it’s also going to be rewarding. Even if it’s in the smallest way. Happiness isn’t a cookie-cutter definition.

I used to believe that in order for me to be successful and happy I needed to pursue the traditional route. You know, the minivan, the husband, couple of kids, the white picket fence… It’s taken time, but I’ve realized that that isn’t what I want out of life. That’s not the setting I fit into. Maybe at one point, but I’ve learned too much about the world, and I know that in this day and age that isn’t possible. Instead, I’ve decided that in order for me to be happy, this is one thing I can’t plan. I need to take things day by day. In an ideal world, I’d love to spend the rest of my life with the man next to me, travel and see the world, maybe adopt and mentor a young adult a decade or two from now. I couldn’t imagine a better life. I love him more than I can find the words to describe the feeling I get when he smiles at me. Eventually I’ll find a way to put it into words, but I’m not rushing a thing. As long as I have him, the titles don’t matter.

So, my lovelies, I leave you with this: Right now, think about where you want to be in five years. Realize that two years from now, where you want to be in five years could be completely different. Shit happens. Forget about all that crap about how “you have control over your own life.” That’s bullshit. You don’t have control over a damn thing, all life really is is adapting and responding to a series of challenges thrown your way. You can’t control your life, but you can control how you RESPOND to life. Boom. There. I just saved you $400+ on a self help seminar.

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Why I Won’t Say It: A L*&% Story

Even though it’s obvious.

This is something I’ve thought about quite a bit lately. More details to come.

Allow me to start at the beginning:

New Years Eve Party, celebrating the long-awaited end of 2016. It was just after midnight and the party was still going full force, at least twenty people that I’d never met before. There’s beer pong in the garage, shots every couple of minutes in the kitchen, the smokers out in the backyard, and some guy playing a DragonBall Z game on the Playstation 4. Then there’s me; sitting on the couch alone just watching everything going on around me, wondering why seven people just came out of the bathroom talking about why something was “sticky.”

This was my normal position at these parties. My social anxiety doesn’t permit me to be able to be one of the “pretty girls” that flirts with everyone. I’m perfectly content like that, it’s so much easier to collect information if no one around is really paying attention to you.

As I’m sitting there, two guys come to sit down on the other couch in the living room. One of these guys I’ve known for years, we even dated really briefly. The other… Now this is where things get interesting. Occasionally my old friend would pull me into the conversation, sometimes I would just interject myself because I can’t stand when people are wrong. After a short amount of time my old friend becomes distracted by other people and conversations, and I’m left to talk with this new guy. Normally, my palms would be sweating and I’d be giving one line answers to anything said to or asked of me. Not this time.

I was enticed by this new person in my life. Words came effortlessly and eye contact wasn’t really an issue for the first time in a really long time. That’s one of the first things I noticed about him. He had the most incredible green eyes, I could stare into them all day while my knees go weak. I could tell he’d been hurt, the pain was apparent and it drew me to him. Here was someone who knew what I’d been through in some way, someone I could talk to with ease. He was intelligent; one of the absolute smartest people I’ve ever met. That meant the topics for conversation could go literally anywhere. Most people of our intelligence think a mile a minute and adding in the spirits and other “party favors,” we found ourselves talking about everything and nothing all at the same time.

Hours I spent talking to him. Learning, trying to remember as many details as I possibly could through my alcoholic drug-influenced hazy brain. For the record, I didn’t retain much. Just his name and the way that I felt while talking to him. I was overwhelmed with how it was so easy for him to make me smile. This is something I never thought I’d feel again. Something I stopped believing in a long time ago.

I knew better than to get my hopes up. Nice things never happen to me because I’m such a negative person. I knew there was a huge probability that I would never see him again, but I at least got him to add me on Facebook. I never expected to talk to him, I never expected…

January 26th.

After talking for a couple of days we decided to hang out. He picked me up and we went to lunch and then we went bowling. I hadn’t smiled or laughed so much in at least two years. After everything was said and done, I had to ask him if that was us hanging out, or if that was a date. It was most definitely a date, and safe to say the best date I’d ever been on. Over the next week we went on another date and talked almost every single day (except when one of us forgets to reply and I have too much anxiety to double text). The following week, I broke all of my normal rules and things got a little hot and heavy.

Holy shit. Sex with anyone else would be a waste of time. But enough of that because I’m already starting to embarrass myself.

So now here I am – a little over a month after our first date – beating myself up because I’m doing everything I told myself I wasn’t going to do. I’m falling for this guy.

A month.

I’m a crazy person.

In defense, it feels like I’ve known him forever. He’s… Me. He’s everything that I wanted BEFORE I got broken. He’s the most wonderful person to have ever graced this planet with his cynicism. He’s just so… Perfect. What makes him even better is that he doesn’t believe it. He’s humble. It’s disguised under layers of depression and anxiety and I adore it. Now before you tear me down for “romanticizing” mental illnesses, hold on. If you’ve read some of my previous posts or any of the posts on my old blog, you’d know that I am no stranger to depression or anxiety or a handful of other afflictions that are unimportant at this point in time.

We have our differences, and yet we’re the exact same person. It’s simultaneously wonderful and terrible.

I’m not going to tell him how I feel.┬áNot because I don’t want him to know, but because I’m not in a hurry to blurt feelings that may not be reciprocated. I believe I’ll be spending quite a bit of time with him in the future though, and I’ll have all the time in the world to tell him every single day after. In the meantime, I’ll continue to tell him in subtle ways. It’ll be in the way I smile at him, when I ask him to make sure he lets me know when he makes it home safely, in the feeling I hope we share at least a bit when we kiss… It’ll be in every movement I make and every moment I spend with him. And when the time is right, I’ll tell him what I so desperately want him to know. And then maybe we’ll be one day closer to happily ever after.

Return of The Empress

It would seem I’ve spent far too much time away from you, my precious blog. We have oh so many things to discuss. I’ve noticed that I’ve lost quite a few followers, but that will not stop me from providing you with the bitter insight that you normally get from me. In my last entry, I mentioned the “mess of marriage,” and I explicitly remember stating that I didn’t believe my marriage was a mess. Oooh boy was I wrong.

Shortly after my last post (you don’t get a time frame, sorry, it’s depressing if you do the math) my now ex-husband and I separated. We had… Creative differences.

A lot was learned from the experience, and it’s been over a year and I gotta say…. I couldn’t be happier. Ask almost anyone, I’m in a really good place right now. I’ve lost almost another person’s worth of weight, I’ve become more self-aware, I’ve set standards not only for myself but for the company I keep as well, and I’ve started learning how to tell people no.

On top of all of that I’ve met the most wonderful boy. He’s beyond adorable, so incredibly smart, and just the absolutely sweetest person I’ve ever met. All while being cynical, dark, morbidly depressed, and a bit of an ass sometimes. I believe I can say I think I’m falling for him, he’s perfect. And I’ll never let him find this blog because I’m pretty sure he likes me too and I don’t want him to see how much of a mess I am.

In my time away, I decided to go back to school. I’m continuing my degree in biochemical engineering, as well as pursuing a degree in English Literature. It’s kept me very busy, and I’m still managing to maintain my 4.0 GPA. Last semester I made Honors Society, so this semester I’m taking all honors classes and I honestly feel like I’m dying. I’m taking a Utopian/Dystopian thought course, physics II, Bio III, Early American Literature, and a philosophical thought course. Oh, and I’m also working approximately 60 hours a week.

All of this and I still make time for him. I always will.

Anyway, school reminded me of something. Last semester, I took a creative writing class. I’ve elected to post a few of the pieces I submitted last semester. Very soon you will see a part of me that I don’t show very many people. Please be kind.

With that said, I was just intending to do a quick catch up without much detail. The Empress has returned. Much love darlings!