All that I am.

I've been swirling my last several relationships in my head all day, wondering how to make them stop affecting my life. I realized though, after much thought, that the only way my last relationships won't affect my present and future relationships is if I consciously, day after day, don't allow them to. At least that's what I have to do for now. I'm sure, once my past isn't so closely past, that it won't be conscious at all. But right now, when my past isn't really all that past for me, it's something I'm going to have to work at. My past relationships destroyed themselves, so why should I, even for a moment, give them the chance to destroy anything else? I've touched on why my marriage ended, but not really my relationships since.

In each scenario, things ended because, at the end of the day, who I am wasn't enough for the person I was with. Whether it was one rash decision to choose another woman, or the baggage, if you will, that my marriage handed me, or just some physical aspect of myself that someone didn't like, I wasn't enough. But I'm trying to teach myself that that's okay. If I wasn't enough for that person, the relationship would never have been a happy one anyway. But to someone, maybe I will be enough. Maybe, just maybe, the man I'm with now, will always find that I am enough, now and henceforth. It's tough because the inner, self conscious, low esteemed Hilary likes to repeat in my brain the many reasons why I'll never be enough. But the strong, confident Hilary tries to shush her down and tell me that I am enough. Who I am and the baggage I hold is exactly what someone in this world will love one day. It's a battle fought day by day, even hour by hour, but I won't allow my past to dictate my future anymore. I am enough.

All I Desire.

What a weekend it was!  I got to spend the last three days with sweet Spencer.  Since I woke up with conjunctivitis on Friday, our plans to go to our favorite little dive bar that night were nixed, and instead we spent an evening at home.  First though, we went on a hunt to search for an inexpensive dart board to put up on my patio.  Hey, what better idea could we have for two people who like to have fun on the cheap?  We really did have a great weekend with the little investment that was the dart board and cheap beer, as well as some great tunes on the iPod.  He makes me laugh so much that I don't know if I ever stop smiling when I'm in his company.  I'm sure that sounds just as pukey and lame as it does sweet, but I mean it - it's true.

We may have enjoyed the alcohol slightly too much last night, so I woke up with a killer headache that luckily didn't last too very long.  Later on this afternoon, I got to meet little Fox Rocket, Spencer's little dude.  He was adorable, and I could see his daddy in both his features and his actions. It was a bit of a strange situation for me, and I wasn't quite sure how it would act when it happened.  I've never dated a single dad, so I've of course never had to meet the child of someone I'm interested in.  It was so nice though - to not be the one doing the introducing, but instead get to be the one being introduced, and getting to watch my boyfriend interact with his son.  There's something about parenthood though that changes a person.  It changes you on a grand scale, of course.  You're never the same once you become a parent, but it changes you on a smaller, day-to-day scale too.  I got to see the daddy part of Spencer for the first time, and it was adorable and endearing, and made me a little weak in the knees.  What's not to adore about a man who is so clearly head over heels for his child? 

Boyfriend.  That's what I called him a few sentences back. I like the sound of that.  Love it, actually.  It wasn't intentional.  In fact, I didn't realize I'd typed it until it had already flowed from my fingertips.  Boyfriend.  I'm still wrapping my head around it a little, I think, but it's new, so I'm sure that's normal and I'm rolling with it.  Sometimes (read: all the time), I wish I could peer into his skull, and see if his lines of thought run parallel to mine. It's a clever kind of love, I think.  This clever love won't tire.

Kinship.

I heard this notion once that the men a woman loves, from her first love to the man she loves at her dying breath, all have this kinship amongst each other, something like a fraternity of sorts.  Each of those men know that woman a little differently, maybe a lot differently, but they've all loved her, needed her, and wanted her at some point.  Whether they hate each other or know nothing about the others in that fraternity, they all have an unspoken commonality.  It's the same way with the women a man has loved, like it or not.  The complex network of those you've loved, and those your loves have loved, is unbelievably interwoven. 

Who are your fraternity brothers?  Your sorority sisters?  Have you ever stopped to think about the likenesses among the other people your significant other has loved?  Maybe it seems pointless and counterproductive to some people, but when I stop to consider who the other women are, it gives me some sort of satisfied, respectful feeling.  Whether those women hurt the men I've loved or whether the men I've loved hurt them, at one point, they were all that person wanted for some moment in their lives.  They were each others' worlds, and when I think about how life has brought me here, to this moment, I have this unexplainable respect for how fast life moves.  How did I get right here where I am now?  How have those other people shaped the men I've loved, and how have I shaped the men who will one day find their own soul mates, the person I wasn't for them?  It's interesting for me to think about, I guess.  I've pictured so many possibilities for my future; envisioned distant, cloudy images of how things might unfold with one person or another, but at the end of the day, my own personal hopes and expectations have little impact on what actually unfolds.  Moreover, I think all of those women I've got kinship with have a bigger influence on how my future turns out because they've all played a part in shaping the men I've loved, or do love, or will love.  And that, to me, is a respectable, fascinating position to be in.

It's not over.

I freaked out a little bit last week, the night before my divorce was finalized.   Obviously, I’d seen it coming for over a year, but when you’re actually looking down the barrel of that gun, it stops you in your tracks.  It’s the finality of knowing your greatest fear is here, and the trigger is about to be pulled.  I expected I’d feel a sigh of relief, but that’s just the opposite of what I was feeling the night before.  Luckily, my close friend was there for me, talking me down from the edge and reminding me that everything was going to be okay.  His confidence in me led me not only into the next scary morning, but through it.  My breaths of freedom hit me the night of the divorce, when I realized I could finally take the dog-ear out of that chapter, and turn the page to something new.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve gone on lots of dates in the last year.  Lots of first dates, plenty of second dates, and very few third and beyond dates.  I’ve only dated one guy exclusively, and only for a couple of months.  It was a rough breakup on me, probably derived from the fact that I sometimes get too close too fast.  But I bounced back and delved back into the dating pool.  After only a couple of terribly written introductory messages from possible suitors, I received a casual, cool (properly spelled and grammatically correct) message from a guy named Spencer.  He seemed nice, smart, laid back.  His pictures didn’t scream “douchebag” and I wasn't fanning myself over love at first sight. He was just a friendly, handsome guy, and that was enough to spark my interest.  We exchanged quite a few messages back and forth, and then progressed to texting each other.  Soon enough, we agreed to meet up at one of my favorite spots in downtown Greenville.  I wasn’t expecting anything phenomenal, and really didn’t even consider it a ‘first date’.  To me, it was more like just potentially making a new friend.  I wasn’t, after all, quite over my last break up at that point.  Little did I know, we’d end up sitting, laughing, and very likely over-sharing for more than three hours that night.   I don’t know that I’d ever opened up so quickly as much as I had to him, but he made me comfortable and he made me laugh, and apparently, that’s how you snake your way right into my heart.   Although it started out in my mind as just a friendly meeting, I found myself having to stop myself from leaning in for a kiss before he headed to his Jeep to go home. 

We hung out a couple more times before I took a trip to Fort Polk to see my kids, (and I pretty quickly got that first kiss… and second… and third…), and I found myself texting him for hours upon hours on end during my whole trip.  When I saw him again after I got home to South Carolina, I felt unbelievably close to him, and I realized I’d gotten much closer to him than I had initially intended to at all.  It was more than a little scary, but I’d also realized among our long conversations that Spencer wasn’t quite ready to be in a new relationship.  He not-so-long-ago separated from his wife of six years, and he was going through all of the stages I’d so very clearly remembered going through just a few months ago.  In a way, I saw it as a blessing in disguise because I had another guy waiting in the shadows.  The other guy, K, was a friend I’d known for nearly a year through letters and emails and text messages and phone calls.  I’d helped him through Air Force basic training and his subsequent schooling, and we’d found ourselves dreaming about meeting and dating and having a future together.  But K was living many states away, and it was more of a pipe dream than anything I was actually pursuing.  Except that right about the time that I realized Spencer wasn’t quite over his last relationship, K presented the idea of coming home on leave to meet and stay with me for a weekend.  I told Spencer about the other guy, terrified of hurting his feelings, but aware that he’d hurt more if he felt I was leading him on in any way.  Much to my surprise, he supported me with no catch and calmed me down in my nervous chattering before K came for his visit.  He was, no doubt, the best friend he could have possibly been for me.  He was my shoulder to lean on, my ears to babble into, and a warm pat on my back to calm my nerves.  He was exactly what he needed to be, and he stood by my side, even in the face of his feelings for me, as I pursued another guy. 

To make a long and not very exciting story short, K came to town, and we had a lovely time.  I think we both felt a spark, but it fizzled quickly when I realized that we had a few personality quirks that probably never would have meshed.  But that’s okay.  It was what it was, and that was all it was.  The whole time K was in town, I found my mind wandering to Spencer, wondering what he was doing with his son, and whether he was thinking about me.  I missed texting him every few minutes like we very nearly had been for weeks by this point.  It had only been a few days since I’d seen him, but I missed him.  When K left and I realized that our fun weekend was nothing more than that, I started evaluating why I’d missed Spence so much.   We’d talked through separation and kids and divorce and life, and I could actually see him moving, before my eyes, from the depressing, terrible side of separation to the happier, positive, maybe-good-things-can-happen-to-me side of separation.  I began to slowly leak the feelings for Spence that I’d bottled up before K came to town, and the more I thought about the kind of guy it would take to stand by my side like Spencer did, the stronger I felt them rush out.  The thing is though, I think they’re still rushing out because every day I find myself feeling something new for him.  Something different.  It’s nice, and I love it.

We laugh so much together.  We make silly faces and take silly pictures.  We tell each other funny jokes and listen to each other’s stories.  We don’t divide our attention between a million different things when we’re together.  When I’m with him, he’s all I even care to think about.  I feel little butterflies when I think about seeing him, and I find myself leaning further and further into his kisses every time he touches his lips to mine.  His hands give me chills and his voice makes me smile.  He’s a single dad, and soon to be divorcee.  He’s Spencer, and he’s exactly what I didn't realize I’ve been looking for. 

Get ready, 'cause here I come.

I think I start the majority of my posts off with some rendition of “It’s been so long since I updated, and so much has happened… blah blah blah”, that it feels redundant to start another one off like that, but well…. It’s been so long since I updated, and so much has happened. :P  I’m having one of those “where to even start?” moments.  

In the last month, I’ve managed to start my fall semester, break my knee, start a new job, throw my daughter’s 4^th birthday party, get my divorce finalized, and meet a wonderful guy.  I’ll skip the boring stuff, and just say that I somehow managed to break my patella on my first day of class, which resulted in a lot of pain, a huge injury, a stack of medical bills, and massive surgery in less than a week.  Like I said, boring stuff.  Perhaps I’ll go into more detail after the surgery is behind me and I’m holed up in my bed for two weeks.  

My new job is awesome.  I’m working in the box office for a concert venue, and it’s turning out to be a lot of fun.  I worked the Mumford & Sons concert last night, and I loved the atmosphere and the fast paced movement of what I was doing.  Classes are going well so far, despite having missed nearly two weeks after my injury.  I’m maintaining A’s across the board, and I’m very pleased with myself.  It’s wonderful to have a feeling of accomplishment when you get a good test grade back that you know you studied hard for.  

My girl hasn’t yet turned 4 years old, but we did throw her 4^th birthday party last week, and it was a little bit of an emotional day for me.  I can’t even believe that my girl is already well past toddlerhood and bounding into straight up childhood.  I went back and checked out the blog I wrote from when Cori was born, and it’s just mind blowing that it’s been nearly 4 years.  Have I said that enough?  Time flies, man, especially when you’re a parent.  I think life turns to super speed when you became a mama or a daddy.  Anyway, her party was Disney princess themed, full of Rapunzel and Sofia the First, and pretty much anything purple and girly.  She had a couple of tantrums, but overall, she did well, based on her personality and overall disposition.  I invited several friends and lots of family, and I was so glad to see the people I love come together to celebrate my girl.  She’s worth it all.

 

Anyway, I’ll save the divorce and new guy part of my story for my next post.  It’ll be tonight, promise, but I have to run for now.

My Happy Place

I was going through some old files this weekend, and found all of the papers I wrote my freshman year of college. One particular paper left me so cheerful. The assignment was to write about a place we've been that always leaves us feeling happy. I wrote about downtown Greenville, SC - just the spot I would write about if I was given that assignment today. So here goes, here's my happy place paper. It's almost unbelievable just how much has changed since it was written 6 years ago.

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December 5, 2007


As I swerve around the curves of Interstate 385, I know what is coming up next.  I pass the Haywood Mall on my left, and the flashy neon sign of a strip club on my right, and I know I'm almost there.  The interstate ends, and as I drive under an overpass, it's hard to control my excitement.  One more light and I'll finally be back to my happy place: downtown Greenville, SC.  It is the one place I never grow tired of -- the place I have had so many happy memories and happy times; the place I spent months of my life working day after day, and still, I love it.

 Starting at the top of the street are the high-class bars and the Hyatt hotel, where a beautifully lit Christmas tree sits in the middle of a fountain every year.  Bright Budweiser and Heineken lights sit in the windows of bars as people stumble out into the street, happily inebriated.  Across the street, the lovely patio of the Piazza Bergamo quietly sits, a holiday carousel resting after a long day.  The plastic animal faces of the rides even seem to doze off, worn out from providing a comfortable spot to ride for the small, smiling faces of the city all day.

The red and white candy striped awnings of Woolworth's reminds me of the tasty foods I used to get in that very spot as a child. But the tasty foods are no more, as the building is vacant now, empty and lonely, with only fading red and white colors left to remind the city of what once was.

On the opposing corner sits a Sticky Fingers, and across the street is a small sushi restaurant. Next door is a Mexican cafe, and even further down is the O*Cha tea bar, where the hippies of the city sit and talk with one another.  Continuing further down the street, the elaborate, fancy Wachovia bank sits, nudged between a Quizno's and a Port City Java.  Countless times I have spent at this coffee shop, pouring my thoughts into words on my laptop, and sipping hot chocolate well into the darkness of night.  During the day, men and women with briefcases and crisply pressed suits march out of the bright bank building next door.  By night, the building sits locked up and dark, with only a light shining on the small ATM that sits out front.

The street is lined with tall trees and lampposts.  My memory stirs when I see the tall trees and I think about when they were first planted, more than a decade ago.  Now the mature trees are covered in netted Christmas lights, sparkling and bright, beckoning people to rejoice in the holiday season.

As I walk along the sidewalk, a group of men, bundled up for the chilly weather, all seeming to have somewhere to be, something to do.  Teenaged boys and their smiling beauties saunter by, holding hands and cuddling close for warmth and love.  Every now and then, a group of two or three children race past, tagging each other and erupting in giggles.  Soon after, the parents of these tiny people stroll past, enjoying he time out of the house to reflect and watch the children they are raising. 

Further down the street is the familiar sign of Bellacino's.  The restaurant I once worked in, where I made friends I'll never forget, and learned patience like I never knew.  The bright red and green "Open" sign bids passerbys to step in for a quick bite to eat.  The inside is empty, like it usually is in the chilly autumn months, and only a few workers are inside, sweeping and trying to pass the time.  On the opposite side of the street is the Westin Poinsett Hotel.  Over the past decade, the hotel has seen significant changes.  Not many years ago, the hotel was the local hangout spot for high school dropouts and drug dealers.  Busted glass and spray painted brick ornamented the building, but now, it is a luxurious five-star hotel.  In recent months, it has accommodated several actors and actresses, even having been the setting of a George Clooney movie coming out in a few months.  The fountain out front and the beautifully decorated revolving doors, complete with garland and red bows, are truly a gem of downtown Greenville.

Continuing down Main Street, the Greenville News building sits on the next corner, just across from the Peace Center for Performing Arts.  The beautiful auditorium is home to many events every year.  From the Singing Christmas Tree to comedians like Lewis Black, it is a place that brings many people to Greenville's beautiful downtown area.  Each time I pass by the Peace Center's theater, I am reminded of the two times I performed within its brick walls.

 Beyond the Peace Center is where the natural beauty really starts.  The rushing Reedy River passes beneath the concrete bridge of Main Street.  Sidewalks with chalk paintings line the river, and black iron tables and chairs dot the areas around the water.  The most climactic part of downtown is near, as the street is followed still further.  Just around the bend of a realty company's building lies the newest and most beautiful picture in downtown Greenville.  The focal point of the city is the beautiful bridge that crosses the Reedy River over the Falls Park.  It is the perfect example of man's amazing creativity alongside nature's simplistic beauty.  The suspension bridge is wide and long, and if you stand very still, as you look over the cabled rails, you can feel the bridge just barely swaying with the feet of people walking by.  Down below, people sit on the banks of the river, and children jump from rock to rock in the waterfall, even in the chilly weather.  In Spring, it becomes the backdrop for prom and wedding pictures, and is even home to an outdoor amphitheatre, where plays by Shakespeare are portrayed by local, aspiring actors.  Dogs pull on leashes held tightly by their owners as they take in the sights and sounds of the beautiful park.  A garden on a hill is slowly closing up with the cold temperatures, but it is only resting until next year, when its buds can come back in full force and beauty.

This is the ultimate stop on the tour of my downtown.  It is calm.  It is beautiful. It is my home, and it is my happy place. 

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Not ready.

A few months back, I said something in passing on a blog post about how I’d only had feelings for one person since separating from Jesse. I mentioned how I didn’t know if it would ever progress past friendship, but sort of acknowledged at that point (at least, internally), that I wanted things to hopefully turn into something. Just a couple of weeks later, I was the lucky girl getting asked out by the boy she’d been crushing on for eight long months. I had some apprehension, since this would be the first relationship since my eight years with Jesse, but after a lot of talking and thinking, I knew it was something I not only wanted, but was ready for. Boy, was it lovely.

Was. It ended too soon, and I’m not ready for it. I really, really like this guy. I’m not yet at the point where I’m ready to start settling down again. I’ve got school to finish, a divorce to finalize, and just in general, life plans to figure out. I still need time to not have the stresses of a super serious relationship upon me. I don’t need or want that. Even so, I was thinking to the future with this guy. Beginning to have those thoughts like maybe it could go somewhere, eventually. It wasn’t just some cute, sweet boy that I enjoyed spending time with. I was getting to know him – to learn about his aspirations, his fears, sentimental moments from his past. We were growing. It sort of all ended in a flash though, and although I won’t get into details, I’ll just say that I’m crushed. I wasn’t ready for this to end. I wanted more. I know there’s more there to be felt and said and had.

Above all of that though, where the hell did this come from? I didn’t know I was at the point right now where a break up would hurt this bad. I hadn’t proclaimed my love for this guy or anything, so I certainly didn’t expect it to hurt so bad when I realized… this is it. Done. When did I even allow my heart to open up to that kind of hurt? I hadn’t realized I had. Screw break ups. This is a terrible feeling.