Guess what???

I have keys... :)

I have my place! It's so sweet! I love it!

Now if only my furniture would move itself...

Warp Speed ENGAGE!!!

Man...

I need to engage my warp speed. Or clone myself.

I have 5 billion things to do at one time and I am trying like hell to keep it all in line.

I move this weekend. Tonight will officially be my last night in this house.

You don't even know...you can't even imagine...

After 4 months of sharing a tiny, cramped, messy room with my daughter - of inhaling dust, dirt and 3-packs a day of smoke - after doing my laundry in a tiny 1 hour time slot during the day, after not cooking for 4 months, after rushed showers in a leaking bathroom, after sleeping on a cot, after being confined in this space ---

My own place.

Mine.

There aren't words.

I half expect to hear angels sing when I turn that key in the lock the first time. I expect a ray of light to shoot from the heavens and illuminate me as I cross MY threshold.

I'm beyond exhausted. I've worked all day, all night and then packed after. I'm averaging 4 hours of sleep. My body is sore.

But it's worth it...

I want to know how it's going to feel. I want to know if I will be happier. I want to know if I will feel better.

Shoo!

"Go play with someone your own age," I told him when he flirted heavily with me again at work.

He's 22. He has bedroom eyes, a bad-boy personna and he can make me blush faster than anyone I know. If he were 8 years older I'd have an eye on this one.

"I like older women," he told me.

I shot him a middle finger.

Later when I was lugging empty boxes out of the restaurant he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm moving this weekend," I reminded him.

"Ooooh, right. Right by me, aren't you?"

He's right. He'll be around the corner from me. His parents own a small mansion in a community next to mine.

"Maybe I'll come by sometime?" he said.

"Sure, my daughter has PlayStation," I shot back as I left.

Twenty-two. I know there are those who think a 'boy toy' is just what I need, but I can't be that person. I'm not interested in casual sex, I'm not interested in someone so much younger and I'm not going to play with this co-worker because that never ends well. A boy who still turns pale at the idea of children - while I am a single mom. A boy who still lives with his parents. A boy.

It's a shame because he's really yummy, but I'm going to pass.

I'm exhausted now. I went to the Weston house to pack my kitchen last night after work. Jeff wasn't there. I packed several boxes before I noticed I was practically asleep on my feet, so I headed back home and crashed. I have to do it again tonight.

I really hope this move happens. Money is SO tight.

I keep wondering - will I be happier when I move? What if I get there and I am still so miserable? What then?

Just Blue

After such an incredible night, you wouldn't think I could feel blue today, would you?

But I do.

In ways, last night was like a brutal therapy.

First of all, if you aren't familiar with Blue October you really are missing out. I have never in my life been a huge fan of any one particular group but I am a devotee of B.O. And their current album Foiled is practically a diary of my relationship with Jeff - in some of the most eerie ways.

The lead singer and songwriter, Justin, has battled mental problems, depression and addictions for most of his life. You only have to hear a song to hear Jeff's 'inner voice' speaking and even Jeff himself admits that the songs resonate in him. "I could have written these," he says.

So it was a little hard to re-experience it all. When they closed with Hate Me, a song Jeff still dedicates to me, I had tears on my cheeks. The songs speaks of a tormented man who admits that a woman has been there for him and understood him and begs her to learn to hate him in order to "see what's good" for herself and to prevent him from hurting her again. Jeff and I may get along fine now, but he still seems to wish I would just hate him and disappear even when he puts himself in my path. It's a sort of "save yourself from me" ballad.

Although the lead singer, Justin, and Jeff could be described as one and the same personality-wise. Justin has managed to marry and is expecting his first child. When I spoke with him last night, one woman approached him and asked if she could kiss his cheek and he said "No, I'm married."

Jeff would have never said that.

I drove home alone and I wondered if anyone would ever love me again. I cried some more.

Love has always held a front and center role in my life. I consider it to be of the greatest importance. I consider life without it to be meaningless. A life without love isn't a life at all.

But will I ever love or be loved again?

It's been nearly 5 months and I still cry every day. I think it's safe to say that I am not getting over this.

On my MySpace page, I had an email from a 31 year old man in Greece. He emailed me to say "It's terrible that such a sexy woman is so unhappy". He wrote that based on one - and only one - blog entry I posted where I wrote "Everything hurts" and nothing more.

I'm not so sure about the sexy part, but the unhappy part is true enough.

I am empty. I am lost without a partner to love and anchor me. I feel like I am dying without someone to share my life with. Even as I wrote that, I am surprised by how true it is - that's what this all feels like to me...a slow death. Like a piece of me dies every day.

Working two jobs and playing single mother leaves me no time to go out and meet anyone - and I wouldn't know where to begin anyway. Online dating is not for me - it's tacky and kills the romance of it all.

My life is passing me up daily and I am trapped in a life that can't afford me the luxury of love.

It's only my daughter that keeps me alive at all. If not for her, I would have killed myself a while ago.

How Was My Night?

Hmmm...

Imagine your #1 favorite band of all time.

Now imagine you're at a private party for them. There's only about 80 people there. You're 4 feet away from your FAVORITE lead singer for an entire concert. There's eye contact (he's awesome at making eye contact in his shows).

Later, after the show you are sitting on the sidewalk and the bass player comes out and asks you for a light. You chat. In a few more minutes you have chatted with every member of the band.

Then wrap your night up hugging the lead singer you are madly in love with.

Add a blurry picture and you're done.

It may be blurry, but this is my favorite picture of all time now...me and Justin Furstenfeld of Blue October...

Blue Monday

No, I'm not feeling blue - I'm actually feeling just fine.

I've posted before about my absolutely favorite band - Blue October. Serendipity - I got an email Sunday inviting me to a FREE concert tonight by Blue October at a local nightclub. They added my name to the guest list and I'm all set! I'm beyond thrilled. This is the same band I drove 400 miles to see in January.

I was scheduled to work tonight but Mondays are devastatingly slow nights. I was able to give my shift away and I'm excited to spend my night adoring Justin Furstenfeld (lead singer).

In other news - not much. Nothing of note is going on in my life. All the focus is on my move this Friday.

I mentioned a few posts back this guy (Brian) who I kept running into online and how we'd discussed meeting up. Well, not quite. Brian has just gone back to his ex-wife for the 4th time. I had no plans to date the guy, but it's still not looking too bright to further communicate with him either. So...seeya, Brian - and good luck!

My Looking Glass

I went to a midnight movie last night with some girls from work and we had a great time. We saw Premonition - which was...difficult. Ultimately, it was a fine time, but it was slow, hard-to-follow and was disappointing in general.

That's the least of it.

My body aches from working so much. I've worked non-stop and I'm sore. I've picked up shifts and now I won't have a night off until moving day - but the money is critical now. You do what you have to do, right? This is what I have to do to get this roof over our heads.

I had a dream about Brad. I was stranded on an island a la "Lost" with a group of my co-workers and Brad was there. We'd infiltrated "the others" camp and been captured. One "other" revealed to me a way off the island - but when I tried to round up my co-workers they were like lost sheep - dazed and distracted and unable to really keep up. I ran across Brad who was trying to coach a ball game. I walked up to him and kissed him. Then I left.

I had an interesting conversation with Jeff over the past few days.

Once, he said to me "I'm a bad habit" - to which I replied "and I will kick you" and he said "then I will just be someone else's bad habit."

"Probably," I told him.

I am working on it.

The problem in my life is this. I feel like I have two men in my life, and two men only. Brad and Jeff. One who doesn't care about me, but pretends he does and one who 'supposedly' does care about me and pretends he doesn't. Ultimately, I am stressed, struggling to make ends meet and deal with traumas and fears and I feel very much alone.

One man pushes me away. One man opens the door to me everytime. When I desperately need someone to be there for me - only one man shows up time and time again. When I need to be held, when I need to feel connected to something, when I need company - only one man lets me in.

It's just that it's the wrong man again and again.

I'm stuck. I have no time in my frantic schedule to go out and meet new men. I have no desire to take on a 22-year old "boy toy" lover who is also a co-worker that I'd have to face regularly. I have no interest in the magic-less world of online dating. I have no way out of this box I am inside of and most of the time I feel like emotionally I am stranded on that deserted island with two men...one who pushes me away and one who lets me in.

So, it's of small consequence usually that the one who lets me in is only using me right back in those moments.

I have actually had some clarity. So, while it seems like I've made no progress, I actually have had some realizations that are ultimately good ones.

I do want someone so badly in my life - and I do feel like I can not move on so long as I am trapped on my deserted island with only two men. But just like the survivors on Lost I am without the means to escape it for the moment.

But I would really like to.

A Step Away

I had a strange sort of realization last night. Something that I thought I wanted very much fell into my hands and I realized that it was an illusion. I didn't want it as much as I thought I did. In fact, I didn't really even like it.

It's made me realize that I have some things to put into perspective. I'm not sure how to do it - but maybe the realization was a start.

Truthfully - I think I am torn between relieved and disappointed.

Questions in the Dark

He asked me what I was thinking - in a way that sounded like he actually cared.

I lied. I said I was thinking about the ceiling fan I had painted.

I should have told him the truth. That I don't tell people what I am thinking anymore.

I could tell he was thinking himself.

I told him I didn't want to know what he was thinking.

It was the most honest thing I could have said.

Recovering

I continue to feel a bit better even though the signs of stress and depression are on me. I'm dying to sleep all day and not sleep at all during the night.

I'm feeling better day by day about the stabbing last weekend too. I think the closer bond we're all sharing at work has really made a difference.

Last night, Jeff was out of town and due back late at night. When I picked Taylor up, I took a moment to spend an hour in the house just reading and relaxing while she played with her friends. The house smelled awful and I lit a candle just to be able to breathe. He'd left dirty dishes all over the place and something was rotting away. Still, it was nice to relax there. I remember looking around and thinking "I was happy here" with a touch of sadness.

The counselor encourages us to go to a happy place in our mind when the memories of the stabbing surface. I didn't know how to tell her that I can't go back to my happy place.

Brad accepted an invite to join Taylor and I for a quick dinner. He was still standoffish but he went.

It made me shake my head...two men. One who doesn't care about me, but is great at pretending that he does and one who supposedly does care about me but is great at pretending he doesn't.

I was just about to hit bed when I remembered the candle. Did I blow it out? I have a terrible habit of forgetting...I was sure I had left it burning. I cursed and swore for a bit and then after I put Taylor to bed I headed back.

When I arrived, Jeff was home. I cursed and swore some more and then called him to say I was out front. He had me come in and we sat and watched TV for a bit. We're a fan of most of the same shows, so it was comfortable and relaxing to just hang out that way. He sat close and sprawled across the couch in a way to be sure he leaned against me.

He hugged me when I left. It made me think back to earlier in the night...I went to hug Brad (who had his arms folded) and he kept them folded as I hugged him.

It feels like there are already two men that I love in my life - how could there ever be room for someone new? The trouble is that neither man can love me back.

I really wish I had someone special in my life.

Speaking of - there's a bizarre online thing going on for me right now.

About two months ago, a guy contacted me on MySpace and for some odd reason we began to chat - I almost NEVER chat online with people. He'd been through much the same as me and was broken up and we connected right away on a friends level. We talked about meeting for lunch someday and then he and his wife tried (unsuccessfully) to reconcile.

Over the past two months, this guy (Brian) and I keep bumping into one another online. He stumbled on my old Yahoo Personals ad. I accidentally came across his new MySpace page. With billions of people online - we have accidentally (without looking) run across each other dozens of times.

He's local and we're both interested in friends only talk. No friends-with-benefits, no romance, nothing more than friends. I think we may finally meet up since we ended up in contact again last night. It just strikes me as odd the way he keeps turning up.

He's still hung up on his wife, just as I am still hung up on the men in my life. I'm sure we'll have much to talk about...

The restaurant I work in plays country music all night - this song keeps running through my head:

Ain't it just like one of us to pick up the phone
and call after a couple drinks
And say: "How you been?
I been wonderin' if maybe you've been thinkin' 'bout me."

And somewhere in the conversation,
an old familiar invitation always arrives,

And I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.

Everyone's known someone
that they just can't help but want;
And even though we just can't make it work out,
well the want-to lingers on.
So once again we wind up in each other's arms,
pretending that it's right,

And I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.

I know it's wrong,
but it ain't easy moving on.
So why can't two friends
remember the good times once again?

Tomorrow when I wake up,
be feeling a little guilty,
and a little sad,
Thinkin' how it used to be
before everything went bad.

And I guess that's what it is,
in lonely late night calls like this,
that we try to find;

And I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.
I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.

Slow

I did finally speak to a counselor at the EAP (Employee Assistance Program) yesterday and found it a waste of time. She was nice, but I really didn't need a stranger telling me "Just remember to eat, sleep and exercise".

Huh?

I've barely eaten. I can't sleep and exercise? Just not up to it.

What did help was another story. My restaurant held a 3:00 meeting with anyone who wanted to talk and our General Manager.

I wasn't sure who would show - but a handful of us did. We all agreed that we felt closer. Some of us cried. The Manager in Training - now a new hire manager for us told us his version of events. He was the one who pulled Javi off of Lamar and basically saved Lamar's life. He's probably the most shaken of us.

It helped to talk this way and my General Manager expressed his concerns for me. He'd heard I'd been down. At the end, he hugged me.

I worked last night and my 'real' help began. Tuesdays are my favorite nights. We have a good mix of staff and we all like working together on Tuesdays. I found myself enjoying the night - laughing with co-workers, teasing others, flirting with the 22-year old cook who can make me blush in a wink and best of all I made good money. I only had 6 tables all night but every check was $100 or more and I made $100 in tips.

So, last night - I slept.

My next major hurdle is this move. I'm unfortunately counting on a large chunk of money that is supposed to be direct deposited into my bank on Friday. If it doesn't hit I wil panic because I'll be almost $900 short. If it DOES hit I will be relieved beyond words.

So, now I wait.

I have a meeting with the Homeowner's Association in an hour or two to review the rules of the community.

I think that once Friday passes, I will be relieved and ready to move ahead. Right now I am still just a ball of stress.

And still lonely.

Falling Apart Again

I'm unfocused. I'm stressed to the maximum of what I can tolerate. This morning I blew my top on Taylor because she did something stupid and irresponsible.

After I dropped her off, I called the Employee Assistance Program hotline to talk to someone. They said someone would call me back, but when they did it was 30 minutes later and I was already at work and could not talk then.

My fuse is lit and I feel like I am falling apart. The pressure on me is so heavy and intense that I can't breathe. I'm supposed to move in 10 days and the HOA has been completely unresponsive to my approval process. I'm tired from work. I'm stressed from the crisis. I'm feeling VERY alone. I'm deeply depressed and barely want to go on.

I know that the incident triggered much of this in me.

I've walked around feeling like it should have been me.

I'm tired, used, broken down, unhappy and alone. It should have been me who was killed (or the victim of the attempted murder) rather than some young new father with a wife and a happy life.

PTSD at it's finest, folks.

I'm Not Sleeping

Somehow the memories of what I saw and heard Saturday night are intensifying for me. In my head I can still hear the screams of "He's stabbing him! He's stabbing him!" and now, when I hear it in my head, I get a full body tremor.

I'm having trouble sleeping.

I did go back to work last night. It was slow - not a lot of people anxious to eat at a crime scene where an employee stabbed another employee over and over with a huge knife.

The interaction between the staff was different. Closer. We'd all been through the same thing. None of us had slept much. There were hugs. There was a LOT of talking - they're really encouraging us to talk to each other and the managers, just not the tables. People recounted what they saw or heard. Most of it was the same. It just depended on where you were in the restaurant.

I was somewhat in the middle of lucky and unlucky. I was lucky to have been in the front section of the kitchen. I heard everything from immediately before to during to after and I froze. I had been heading to the exact spot this happened. Apparently I saw Lamar (the man who was stabbed over 10 times) staggering towards me and somehow I have entirely blocked that memory from my mind. The human mind is a fascinating thing. Apparently there were only 3 of us in the front "alley" of the kitchen at that moment - Kayla, my sister and me and when Lamar tried to flee the kitchen covered in 10+ stab wounds (4 in the neck) and blood running off of him like a river - my sister began to approach him and I yelled at her "Come away from there! Sara! Come away from there!" and she turned and saw me shaking violently and she raced to me. Lamar went back into the kitchen and I never remember seeing him, but I do remember that suddenly there was massive pools of blood on the floor in front of me and I had no idea how they got there. I stood for what seemed like hours staring at the blood and shaking.

I'm getting worked up just writing it all now.

The news reports that the stabbing followed an argument. That's a lie. We all unanimously agree on that. Javi - the man who did the stabbing - is a quiet, sweet and pleasant 43 year old family man. He was apparently having marital problems. Lamar (the victim) apparently passed him and dropped a bag that fell and bumped Javi's foot and Javi picked up the largest meat-cutting knife we have (think Psycho knife) and just began to stab Lamar over and over.

I heard yelling. I heard crashing as pots, pans and the meat slicer fell to the ground with Lamar. I heard someone yell "He's stabbing him! He's stabbing him!" and I heard Lamar saying "What did I do? What did I do?"

Javi was pulled off of him after Lamar had been stabbed over 10 times, 4 times in the neck. How Lamar is alive right now is a fucking miracle. Lamar had a baby 3 weeks ago with his wife.

Javi was locked in the managers office where he sat quietly and dazed waiting for the police. Towels and linens were held on Lamar and they shouted at him to keep him conscious.

Half my co-workers were covered in blood. There was so much blood. My manager's pants were soaked and stained, employee shirts were spattered and stained and the floor...the floor was pools of it.

I didn't go in the back. I didn't see how much blood was back there. I'm told it was bad.

I have to admit that I feel like I am hanging on by a thread. I am so shaken and upset and confused and afraid. I know Javi is in jail, but I keep thinking that if I bump someone they could stab me to death. I'm afraid. I'm traumatized.

Drama does seem to follow me. You have to be asking if I am making this shit up. I am not. As hard as it is for even me to believe - I am not making this up. I wish to god I was. I wish this was some elaborate story I made up and that I wasn't sitting here shivering and feeling like my body could split into a million pieces any second.

The local reaction got under my skin. The news story in the Sun-Sentinel allows pepole to post comments and they ranged from tasteless jokes to racist remarks on "spics and spooks" and the scum bags that work in the kitchens.

Not our kitchen. I love my co-workers.

I am not angry at Javi. I don't think I am afraid of him although when they led him past me in cuffs, I almost put myself through a wall backing away. Javi has kids and I am worried about his family. Javi just snapped and after what I have been through myself, I think that I can understand. I wish I knew he had been having problems. I wish I had had a chance to talk to him about how many times I felt that same feeling of losing my mind only to hang on to my daughter to keep myself together. I wish I could have told him to do that. I wish I could have helped. I wish I had not been frozen in fear. I wish I could have stopped him. I wish I could have saved Lamar. I wish I could have saved everyone who is feeling like I am right now. My friends...my co-workers - the people I spend almost every night with...they're all hurting too and none of us know what the fuck to do.

I do seem to experience life-changing trauma after trauma, don't I? Roofs falling on my head in the middle of hurricanes, losing babies, dating sociopaths...and that's just in the past 2-3 years. Don't get me started on my childhood.

Am I jinxed? Am I drawing these things to me? Am I a danger to people?

I have so many thoughts - all so scattered. I am so screwed up right now.

Let's Play "Who Had the Worst Night Tonight"...

I went to work tonight in a good mood, prepared to make a lot of money.

I didn't expect to be a witness to an attempted homicide. I didn't expect to go into shock staring at a bloody floor. I didn't expect to be giving statements to police.

I walked into the kitchen and everything was normal. I had 3 tables. Suddenly, there was a commotion from the cooks area just out of my line of sight that sounded like yelling and pots and pans crashing. I froze. I heard someone scream "He's stabbing him, he's stabbing him!"

I stayed frozen. I had no idea what was happening. I didn't know if a customer had gone back there or if a madman had run in or what...

I shit you not, tonight at work, a fellow employee picked up a gigantic knife and stabbed another employee in the neck 4 times for no apparent reason. Both men are nice, sweet, quiet and long-time guys.

The details are a bit like flashes from a bad dream. I remember the sounds. I remember seeing my general manager covered in blood yelling to call 911. I remember going to my tables not knowing what the fuck to say to them. Gee, your orders going to be a bit longer - we're down two cooks?

The police came and locked down the restaurant. They had every patron leave. One lady actually had a heart attack and more paramedics were called. In retrospect, it's astonishing that I did not have one myself. They shut us down for the night. We were all interviewed and then released.

The moment they locked us down I walked up front and saw Brad and Taylor outside. They were coming to eat and see me. I went outside and hugged them and filled them in and told them to leave.

When I left the restaurant, I was still in shock. I still am now.

I can't believe this was my night. This is too surreal for words.

The Deceivers

Brad may be the writer, but I have to admit that I have many times wished I could write a book. I have the story, the title and the tragic plot twists but whenever I have sat in front of a blank Microsoft Word page, I just go blank on how to even begin it.

MWCB's comments in my last post were somewhat on the mark. I have to disagree with his thinking Brad wants me and I don't want him. The truth is that he doesn't want me. He did once but he got over it. No matter how skilled a man might be at hiding his feelings, I can't imagine that some hint wouldn't slip through and Brad is like a brick wall that I have run up against. As for me wanting him, I have many times thought I do...or might...but because our relationship is probably the most important one in my life I have (for once in my life) tread lightly and wanted to be able to be sure about exactly what I felt before I voiced that to him and he has denied me any opportunity to find out. I think if I spent time with him alone, either that old chemistry would resurface and shine....or not. Without that time, it's irrelevant. It's a mystery I can't solve and it's too important to 'guess' at.

I would call my book The Deceivers and it would ultimately serve as a warning to anyone who loves.

My characters would include:

Brad, the steadfast but somewhat irresponsible writer who cherishes his family but loses himself in his own failures just long enough to turn to another woman through the safety of the internet...ultimately changing the dynamics of the family he loves. A tiny slip, an error in judgement, a small opening in his life to an outside predator and he becomes a deceiver.

Christine, the follow-your-heart dreamer who cherishes her family but has great frustration with Brad's lack of responsibility and motivation and is changed and hurt by his indiscretion to the point that she later loses her own heart to the interloper and becomes a deceiver herself.

Jeff. the professional con-artist sociopath who is lost in himself and sees Brad and Christine's marriage as a symbol of his own romantic failures and decides to destroy it and take it for his own - forgetting that he can never be the other half of a perfect match because of his own inner demons. One true partner does not a 'partnership' make. Jeff would be the master deceiver.

So far, the story only chronicles the lasting pain of decisions made for the wrong reasons and all three end up lost and alone.

I'd really like my story to have a happy ending, but I can't imagine introducing a 4th character to my story to give my heart to and find that elusive happy-ever-after ending - and the Hollywood twist to make every reader swoon would ultimately have to be Brad and Christine finding one another again and I just don't see that as being possible.

Still, maybe someday I will write it and create my own fictitious ending. The only problem is that it would be like reliving it all and would hurt so much.

But you have to admit...a work of fiction that links back to my blogs of the past 3 years would be interesting reading.

If only I knew how to write...

Right now, the blank Microsoft Word page just haunts me like an impending surgery that I am not sure I will survive.

Explaining/Exploring

The details of yesterday are a little clearer now - for you anyway. I was too upset to explain myself well yesterday.

Basically, Brad called me and I knew right away that there was a 'tone'. He asked me why the hell I was going to Jeff's house every night. I asked him where he was getting this information and he wouldn't say.

He told me he felt like a chump helping watch Taylor while I worked so much and I was running off to see Jeff. I corrected him in that at no time has he ever watched Taylor while I was at Jeff's house. The only times I went was after work when Taylor was asleep, in bed and under my stepfather's supervision.

He seemed to be under the impression that I was moving back to be with Jeff. I was stunned by this one. That's not even on the scope of reality.

We argued everything from past to present. I told him I had questioned my feelings for him and that I had extended him no less than 497 invitations to try to get to spend time with him and figure out my feelings...all of which he declined. He said "Well, you have to understand..." and I said that I did understand perfectly. He didn't owe me anything and I know I hurt him and I was his Jeff. I get it.

The most important point I tried to make was this...

I work no less than 80 hours a week. I wake at 6 am Monday through Friday to drive my daughter 1 hour round trip to her old school. I get home by 8 am just in time to start work. Usually I am 5-10 minutes late and I get yelled at every single day for it.

At 4:15 pm I take the world's fastest shower and hope my day job phone doesn't ring during that time. If I miss a call, I get yelled at.

At 5 pm, I race at top speed out of the house to drive 30 minutes to my night job. I am always exactly 7 minutes late. I never get yelled at for it. I do my hair and make-up in the car at red lights.

At 5:30 I begin my 2nd job (ok, 5:37) where for 4.5 hours I run around refilling drinks, taking orders, bussing tables and trying to charm my tables into a 20%+ tip. No matter how tired I am, I must always be smiling and cheery and witty. My tables can never know that I am starving while I serve them prime rib.

Somewhere between 10:30 and 11 I am finally done. I finish up and leave. On an average night, I go home where I stumble up stairs and trip over 37 things in my bedroom in the dark. I typically manage to peel off my socks and my shirt and sleep in my bra and my work pants.

Then I wake up and do it again. And again. And again.

When I have time to think, I hurt. You honestly can't imagine how isolated I feel or how much I need someone to just hug me or kiss me or even just talk to me and make me laugh.

I have no time to 'meet' people. I did make the decision not to date anyone right now. I don't even want to consider introducing a new person into my circus life.

So, when Jeff was emailing me and when he asked me to come by - I went. Partly out of curiousity. When he rubbed my back it was the most amazing gift....I hadn't been touched in many months and my back is always sore.

When we talked, we laughed.

When we kissed, I melted.

When he hugged me, it was like clinging to life.

Essentially the very "evil" Jeff managed to provide some very basic and essential touches that I was withering and dying without. For a few days I didn't have to feel lonely anymore. I even laughed real laughs. I can't deny it - it was fun.

I needed it so much.

Brad tried to describe his own loneliness and I had to correct him...he had his family giving him FULL support. He had his friends - many of them - vying for time with him. His social life took off because he was suddenly free to go party and play. Mine withered and died because I work 7 days a week.

So, it fucking pisses me off that he would dare to judge me. What exactly did he have to be angry about. He doesn't want me - he made it clear and I do not blame him. He doesn't want me to bring Jeff back into our daughter's life (an opinion I have ALWAYS fully agreed with and have abided by - my daughter has no idea I've even spoken to Jeff) and he doesn't want me reconciling with Jeff (no worries, Jeff dates other women and does not date me).

I recognize how pathetic the situation is. I truly do. I am seeking whatever comfort I can and the only person who offered it is Jeff.

Truth be told, the sex was secondary. It was just being kissed, touched, having my back rubbed or talking that lit me up inside and made me feel semi-alive again and human instead of robotic and exhausted.

It eased some pain for me. I was able to be more cheerful. I was able to feel better.

You know what really was the best? The night I just curled up on the couch beside Jeff and cried. I cried for a million reasons - being tired, afraid, stressed and drained. He didn't make me talk. He didn't lecture me on how strong I need to be. He just stroked my hair and let me cry and when I was done, he hugged me.

I have been strong. I have pushed myself harder than ever before in my life. But, damnit, I needed someone to let me just feel something - anything - again and the only person who seemed to understand that was Jeff.

My family is not supportive. My dad is my daytime boss. He screams at me for 8 hours a day for everything - things the other employees or customers do, for being 10 minutes late, for leaving at 5 when he feels like I should work nights (for free) for him instead...my mother is consistantly absent, my sister is busy with her wedding next month and my best friend is in North Carolina and dealing with her own drama.

Did I mention I was exhausted? I keep losing weight. It doesn't matter that I eat nothing but crap on the run. I bought black pants for work a couple of weeks ago and the damned things are already too big. They're a size 8. I needed a new work uniform shirt and I had to take a 'medium' (my breasts are still large enough to require a medium MINIMUM) over my usual 'large'. I'll likely be a size 6 in a few more weeks. Through no effort. Considering I was a size 14 when this started...it's a lot. You would think I would be ecstatic but I am just tired of buying new clothes that I can not afford.

I know that playing with Jeff is like playing with fire. Believe me, I know. But when you are shivering and bone-cold, fire can be mighty handy at warming you up and I needed it.

I still do, but I have made the decision on my own to move past Jeff. I can't swear I won't go back to his house for comfort some night. I can't swear I won't sleep with him again.

Ultimately, the decision and all of it's consequences are mine and mine alone. ALONE. A word I am coming to know well.

Stage 2

Anger has set in.

Fuck you.

Here's the deal. I screwed up my marriage by falling in love with a professional con artist who made me believe in the moon and stars. Karma hit hard and I got what I deserved and I have been punished.

But enough is enough.

I'm sick of the people around me who expect me to be so strong. I'm not always so strong and you've only made it feel like I let you down when I cry. I try to be strong, but I am lonely and scared and full of pain and no one has a right to expect me to just get over it.

Yes, I went to Jeff. I was lonely and he let me in. For about a week and a half that makes him the ONE fucking person in my life who reached out to me.

Brad behaved like I had cheated on him all over again. He forgets that I reached out to him and was denied (rightfully so) yet he blames me for enjoying the ONE brief period of attention anyone paid to me.

My Texan commenter blames me for feeling anything at all.

Look, I get up - I work. I finish and go to work AGAIN. I come home. I sleep. I spend time with my daughter, I work my ass off to provide for us -but somewhere SOMEHOW I deserve to have someone pay attention to ME. Someone to care how MY day was or to invite ME to talk or hang out.

So, I did it. I enjoyed every damned minute of something I had been STARVING for. I called it off because of my own reasons, but I don't have to explain it or justify it to ANYONE.

I spent the holidays alone. I spend every fucking day alone. Other than my daughter, I have no companionship at all and YES it HURTS.

I wasn't cheating, I wasn't neglecting my sleeping and supervised child, I wasn't ducking work or shirking my responsibilities...I was letting ONE person who SOUGHT me out pay attention to me. No, I'm not thrilled that it turned out to be Jeff but there is a certain irony in the fact that he ended up being the only one there.

I'm done explaining myself to anyone. My obligations are met, my duties are fulfilled and so-FUCKING-what if I spent a few nights letting someone I once loved very much shower ME with attention?????

It's over by my choice - and if I change my mind again and let one more night happen at some point - that's MY damned choice - but you know what???

For the first fucking time in 4 MONTHS I got to NOT be so damned lonely and it was worth it.

Busted...

The title may seem glib, but the post is not. I'm busted. I told Brad I was going by to drop money off to Jeff last night (insurance money) and today I was confronted by phone about what's going on.

I wasn't sure where he'd gotten his information from...so I admit that I didn't admit that I had slept with Jeff. But now I know it was pointless anyway because I just this moment found out how Brad knew.

He read this blog.

He had every right to. It's unfortunate that he read it just as I decided to 'end' it with Jeff and not in the future when it was a thing of the past but I suppose to some extent it's just as well.

The conversation actually gave me a chance to understand it all myself.

I did what I did because I am lonely. I don't know that I even realized it until I had to explain my actions.

I've posted about countless invites extended to Brad that he refused. My sister-in-law's fiancee says I call her too much. There's NO one that wants to spend time with me in my life and when Jeff called I went running as much because someone called at all as because it was him.

I admit that Jeff is the last person I should spend time with, but I can only defend my actions by saying that until you are as alone as I am you can not judge.

Either way, I have no plans to see Jeff anymore or to continue seeking attention from him. I'm not proud of what I did, but I don't regret it either. I can honestly say that for the brief time I played along, I enjoyed someone's attention again.

Swing Away

I think I posted a week ago about a co-worker who I had confided in about Jeff that told me "I can't make you stop, I can't tell you what to do because you will do it anyway. But he hurt you before and he'll hurt you again and when you have had enough, you will stop".

I think I understand now. It's time to say goodbye.

I went to Jeff's house after work last night again. We ate dinner together - I had brought a few things from the restaurant - and then chatted and ended up with the backrub foreplay. God, it feels so good when he rubs my back.

He gave me a great massage and we were giggling and playing like kids. He was straddling me as he rubbed and I eventually turned over under him and he continued to straddle me. He leaned in and began to kiss me.

Again, it was different.

He took his time kissing me. My mouth, my face, my neck...as far as sex goes, it was passionate and somewhat tender and really nice. After it was over, he continued to kiss me for a bit before rolling aside and lying beside me talking for a bit.

Eventually I left.

I love him. I know that I do. The sound of his voice, the kiss, the touch, the feel of him...I love him. I don't choose to love him, but I am in love with him in ways I never knew. Ways that overtake me. Ways that push my common sense aside and let me succumb to him just to have a moment with him.

I love him.

It seemed easy at first. I love him, he's willing to use me - why not enjoy it for a bit?

It's stopped being easy.

I know as soon as I left he was probably online picking up other women. I know that he either does not love me or does not realize he loves me. Either way. I know this is doomed.

And I am only hurting myself, lowering my value, giving him my heart again when he is not deserving of it.

The bottom line is that I know that I have to stop. The question on my mind is whether or not I tell him that I am stopping and why or just start avoiding him. Do I tell him "Hey, listen - I know this is easy for you but I'm in love with you and this isn't right for me. I can't give you myself when you don't hold me in any value and I can't do this anymore"? Do I just try to avoid him?

I came to this decision last night. This morning my horoscope summed it up for me...

You have very real feelings of insecurity that can prevent you from letting go. The Moon in your 12th House of Endings, though, gives you an opportunity to dig into the hidden corners of your mind and to release old wounds now. This profound work can be done while multitasking in the real word, so keep one foot on dry land while you are exploring your inner realms.

Maybe this all served to give me closure. Maybe leaving him with a kiss instead of anger was the purpose after all. Maybe I am going to better be able to let go now that I can do so gently instead of with force and fire.

In other news, work was very funny last night.

Meet Chris. Chris is a young, punk of a line cook. A solidly built guy who is rough to say the least. Outspoken, tough - the sort of guy you know would probably slash your tires if you pissed him off - and our line cooks are easily pissed off.

I'm pretty sure I commented on him awhile back. He has beautiful eyes and I have enjoyed just watching him. I told a few close co-workers that I thought he had such beautiful eyes and they were all shocked. "Chris?????" they would gasp.

Sunday night, at closing time, a host-promoted-to-waiter was doing his closing sidework which was coffee. He was cleaning the machines and he asked me what else he needed to do. I handed him a pitcher and told him to empty the hot water in the machines and showed him how the hot water levers on the front would pour out the water. For those of you that don't know, the joke is that the machines are connected to water lines and no matter how long he went, he was never going to 'empty' them. No one saw or heard me do this prank, but moments later Chris walked by and pulled the same gag which really sealed the deal.

We were doubled over in laughter. Later I told Chris that I had commented on his beautiful eyes and what the reactions had been and he was torn between flattered and offended by the responses. He kept saying "That's not right!"

Last night, I noticed I had Chris's full attention. He was full of chatty comments and clearly had enjoyed my flattery and was like a puppy back for more treats. The normally cantankerous guy was in my way at every turn with cutesy jokes and the like.

Once he was in the kitchen and I needed a cutting board by his knees. I bent to get it and he said, "Hey, I don't know you that well yet!" and I told him I knew he'd have a comment. He argued that I shouldn't see him as predictable and I told him every guy was. He told me he wasn't 'every guy'.

Isn't that what 'every guy' says?

We had a conversation about age and he revealed that he is 22. TWENTY-FUCKING-TWO. Part of me was mortified while part of me though "Hmmm...boy toy".

When I dropped a plate and a meal had to be recooked - he did it without comment. Normally I would have been abused.

When I ordered a to-go at close for me and Jeff, he asked if it was for me. I admitted it was and he VERY nicely remarked that we were supposed to ring them in 30 minutes before close. His fellow cooks stopped dead in their tracks and stared. One commented, "Damn...Chris, if that had been me you would have been harder on me!"

I smiled at him and said "You can be harder on me".

His face was priceless. He got the innuendo in one beat and he said "Dude...I'm 22 - you can't say things like that to me!!!"

He didn't mean it as in "it was innappropriate" - he meant it as in he could be easily 'fired up'. You had to hear the delivery to get that.

Still, it was comical to realize I'm getting better at the flirting.

To sum it up, flirting for fun = good and Jeff = bad.

I have to pull back from him now. I have to let go. I have to let it hurt, let myself ache and accept that I'm worth more than this. I'm good to him, I am there for him, I am kind to him and he is willing to fuck me - sometimes tenderly - and then release me so he can invite other girls out to dinner and such.

Sorry, but shouldn't I be the one getting the dinner invites? Not that it would be smart, but still ---

I know it will hurt. I know I will cry again. I know another piece of my heart is breaking. But I also know it's time.

The Talk

Work sucked last night. When I arrived at 5 I was immediately accosted by a host and manager apologizing profusely. A large party of 50 had come in 2 hours later than the time they'd reserved and was taking up my section. It was 2 hours before I could be sat a table and when I should have made at least $80, I actually made only $45. I was furious.

Towards the end of the night Jeff text messaged me asking me to come by to talk, he was feeling down. He specified "no sex" which made me roll my eyes, but I got the sense that he needed to just talk and I went.

We sat on the couch and just talked. He's "cycling down" as he calls it. His break-up with Jill is weighing on him, his job is frustrating him and he's just feeling low. We talked for awhile and I have no idea if it helped or not, but I tried. I was worried about his drinking. I watched him down an entire 6 pack of beer in the first 45 minutes I was there and he'd had two before I arrived. When I left he was not sober. I mentioned my concerns about his drinking to him.

I tried to be sympathetic. I really did. But I have to admit that inside I wanted to scream "You fucked everything up!!!"

Knowing Jeff, I know he needs a partner to help focus him. No one will ever be able to entirely keep him on course, but it does help. This is possibly the worst I have ever seen him and I'm worrying that he's well on his way to a drinking problem. Jeff's not a big drinker - or at least he never has been - so it signals a deeper depression and loss of control to me.

The things he wants and needs in his life - he had. With me. Someone to stand beside him. Someone who understood him. Someone who still loved him despite how difficult it is to love him. Someone who would make him a focus and would be willing to make his dreams their dreams. Someone who was strong enough to stand up to him, but also somewhat submissive enough to let him take the lead (he's a control freak, so this is a delicate balance). Someone who could say "Hey, you own your ex this much money and we need to do this and this to handle it". Someone willing to work to help bridge the gaps in his commissions. Someone willing to center him.

Hell, it's more than that.

Someone willing to get up with him at 4 am when he can't sleep and just sit with him - as I did MANY nights, but who won't require the same of him.

Someone who will give him everything they have in every way but won't expect much back.

And all of this, this elusive and impossible to find thing - he had. With me.

So yes, I am angry that he fucked it up. It can't be undone, it can't be rewritten, it can't be fixed and part of me just wants to scream because he needs me and I need him and neither of us can fully break our ties but he had everything he needed and wanted in me.

I'm not the same girl I was with him. For starters, my expectations of him are far lower. But I also can't ever imagine turning over so much control to someone I can't trust. It's a moot point since 'getting back together' is not an option, but if it were then there would only be new challenges to face because as much as I could do - I can never make him the center of my life again. When the center of your life is ripped away, you crumble and I've been there and done that.

Still, I just want to smack him in the forehead and yell "Stupid!!!"

Life with Jeff was never easy. I didn't like his ex-wife but I understood the importance of his kids and of his financial obligations. I may have disagreed on amounts (and still do) but both Jeff and his ex-wife thought I was just being greedy when my point really was "Hey! You earn X amount of money and owe her X amount of money and unless you have a big commission you can not afford X amount of money so this doesn't work!" No one listened and now he is far behind on paying her. It was never about not paying her. I may have disliked her, but I respected her as his ex and as the mother of his kids.

His kids were issue #2. Not the easiest children. Jeff has a short attention span and isn't the type of dad who finds joy in doing things a kid likes to do. I worked hard to come up with activities to do as a group that kept everyone happy. I planned zoo trips, built forts, grocery shopped to ensure everyone had healthy meals and weren't living on Happy Meals. I did arts and crafts, I tried to plan weekends that did not involve Jeff being on the computer playing poker while the kids roamed the neighborhood or played 27 hours of video games. When his oldest son confessed a tendency to "sneak out" of his mom's house in the middle of the night I began to listen for him at night and would get up and watch him (waking Jeff was impossible). I had many, many conversations with this child at 2 am when I would find him wandering the house. I was not willing to ignore it and let the child watch innapropriate tv shows and I wasn't comfortable knowing we lived on the edge of the Everglades swamp and his wandering outside meant snakes and gators. I busted my ass to make the weekends good for everyone and was usually rewarded with rudeness and the ex-wife bitching about anything from my "instant" mashed potatos to my telling her kids that they could or could not swim (sorry, but if I am supervising them, I should have a say so and if Jeff's occupied and the kids want to swim then I should be able to say "Sure, I can watch you" or "Sorry, I'm doing something now" or even "it's too COLD to swim and you have an earache" without having to deal with the bitchiness)

Fidelity was issue #3. Jeff is not capable of it. I was watchful because I knew this and busted his attempts several times before the end.

It could have been easy. All I ever asked of Jeff was to love me, respect me and be faithful. I didn't expect him to do anything beyond that. I couldn't possibly have made his life any easier.

I can not for one second believe that Jeff is 'better off' without me and now I feel like I am seeing the proof.

But I can't make him love me. Actually I can't make him love anyone. Jeff's only capable of appreciating what works for him and while he can fake love, he doesn't actually feel it.

But I still love him. And if there was a way, I'd do whatever I could to make everyone happy - the ex, the kids, Jeff, my family, Taylor - everyone. Me included ideally.

But I am not magic. I can't make this a reality. I can't change what happened. I can't fix a mess that I did not make. I can't bring this man back into my life this way with my friends, family and daughter opposing it. I can't defend him to them and he's not a 'big' enough man to do it himself.

All I can do is feel angry that what I still believe was a good thing for us all was destroyed beyond repair and occasionally I can sit with Jeff and watch him try to keep himself together all the while wishing I could be the person to help him put it back together and knowing I can't be.

But here's what hurts...the situation is unique. Jeff is hardly even human and requires a partner who understands him and is strong enough to work to overcome it. I was so deeply in love with him that I can't even imagine ever being with someone else and I was happy to be that partner. I did understand him and I did have the strength to fight. The odds of him finding another person willing to stand beside him the way I did and have are almost impossible. Even after what he did to me, I've been there for him at every turn.

Part of me wonders why he can't see that. Part of me realizes it doesn't matter if he did.

He lost me. It was a greater loss to him than to me. I offered him everything. I was good to him. He gave me nothing and was only concerned with himself.

I can find another person to be there for me even if I don't feel that same intensity and love I have for him.

He's never going to find another person who understands, accepts and still stands beside him.

And he'll continue to slide downhill...while I watch and mourn.