Of the mess you left when you went away....

I've been feeling extremely unraveled today. It's been an Alanis Morissette and Garden State kind of day. Jagged Little Pill was such an amazing album. I just feel a need to run. A need to escape. I need to get away from myself for awhile.

I was talking to one of my best friends today, telling her how I haven't felt loneliness like this in a long time. For the first time in I don't know how long I want to open up to someone. It feels so strange feeling like I'm ready to let someone else in. I don't remember what it feels like to want to give part of myself away. All I know is I want to feel loved again, and want to love again. Life feels so empty and pointless without it.

I'd love nothing more than to nuzzle into the crook of his arm, sweetly kiss his ear-lobe like he likes and just breath him in...

Oh the messes we make. 

Exception

I just got done watching He's Just Not That Into you with a few friends of mine. Kathryn surprisingly had never seen it so we felt the need to rectify the situation immediately.

As cheesy as it may sound the movie is extremely smart and has a lot of good advice and points to it.

I attempted to find the ending scene on Youtube so that I could post it... when Alex shows up on Gigi's door and tells her she is his exception.

Didn't work.

But the lesson of the night... we are NOT the exception... and I have to stop thinking I am. It's not getting me anywhere.

Never Thought We'd Have a Last Kiss...

It was an extremely beautiful night tonight so I drove home from work with the windows down. I allowed my current CD of choice to linger through the soft air and I drifted like a cast-away in my thoughts.

I'm doing this all wrong.

In the past week, in the past seven days I have found myself kissing three separate men. Now, I feel no shame in this because, lets face it, there are far worse things I could be doing than kissing silly boys, but I still feel myself over analyzing each encounter.

Two of them, I've kissed before. One of them, not so much. But the one thing they all have in common, lack. Not from their inability, as I said I've kissed two of them before, but I suppose in the sense of my own personal detachment. For years I've kissed with emotion, I've kissed with heart and pain and lust and everything I can and have or will feel. Lately, it's just a form of physical contact... nothing significant, nothing special...

and that makes me sad.  I want that fire back... part of me is afraid I'm never going to experience it again. And this is the part of me I hate right now because it's the part of me that misses him. But I'm fighting so very hard... and I win a little more everyday.

So in the mean time, I suppose I will continue to kiss boys in hopes one of them will give me butterflies. In hopes that one day, I'll get the same sensation of falling in the pit of my stomach I did on that first night when he brushed the hair from my sleeping eyes and whispered "my god she really is beautiful." Sadly, and strangely, it's a feeling I got often. Almost every time he kissed me. I miss that feeling. I think in some ways I need that feeling...

But what do I know?

Lonely Girl 101

I promised my return to my readers and I extend my apologies again for vanishing like I have. Between finalizing my separation from my soon-to-be (but not soon enough) ex husband and moving my daughter and myself into our own place things have been hectic. But I stand before you 10 pounds lighter, internet in tow, willing to share the intimate details of my life with you...

well, maybe not the intimate details... but close enough.

I recently had the epiphany that I am the stereotypical "lonely girl". I don't mean that in the sense that I am a female and I am lonely, but I seem to be ever man's "i'm lonely" fix these days.

Rather it be a failing marriage, long distance drama, a doomed relationship or a rebound every man I know rather it be an ex, a friend, or an acquaintance seems to call me only when they are lonely. Let me explain that not all of them try to get into my pants. Some just want me to stroke their egos. They flirt with friendly banter until their loneliness fades and then so do they.

I mean, when you think about it I married a man who only wanted me around when he was lonely.

What does that say about me?

I don't really know how it reflects on me. In some ways it makes me feel good because it means that I am someone people can come to when they are down and be cheered back up. I'm someone people can count on.

But on the other hand, it makes me feel a little like I'm just a momentary fix to an easily solved problem. Always the back up. That can kill the little bit of self-esteem my ten pounds dropped has provided.

I don't know. It's just something I've been thinking about. I guess you can call me Lonely Girl...

I sound like a pre-teen CW drama.