I’ve been holding back on writing for a bit, mostly because sometimes I feel as though my thoughts get somewhat repetitive and boring. Last night, whilst I was lying in bed with a terrible stomach ache—I wrote half of a blog. When I read through the first half I had composed, I later deleted it. I must have been in one of those moods.
When I go back and look through my previous posts, I honestly cannot believe that, I have shared so much with the world. Question being here, have I shared so much—that I actually seem like some unstable crazy person? Do my blogs make it seem like I only live some kind of life filled with nothing but pain, sorrow and unhappiness? I sure hope not. I guess the appealing thing about blogging is, I can get everything off my chest in a way that I normally wouldn’t be able to when someone asks me ‘What are you thinking about?’ Apparently, you can definitely tell when I am thinking---which is all of the time.
Looking back to October of this year, I can say I was in a pretty low place. As the months continued to pass me by, I continued to move through different stages of grief—which I talked about often in my posts. I look at where I’m at now, and I see a lot of progression. I’ve moved through numbness to feel everything---only to find myself in some irrational forms of thoughts. I often find myself saying crazy things to other people---for example….I told Ashley on Wednesday, that I look like ‘Mama June’ from Honey Boo Boo. You and I both know this isn’t true. Sometimes I feel like I look like her---and that’s something I need to work through. At the end of the day, though, ‘Mama June’ has someone that comes home to her at night. Ashley just rolled her eyes at me, when I said that—and she reassured to me, like she always does “There is someone out there for everyone.”
There is someone out there for everyone.
Is there? I mean, what about those stereotypical women who live alone in their homes with like 15 cats? What about them? Is that ‘someone’ for them the 15 cats that they feed and nurture? What about the old man—that doesn’t have 15 cats, but he does have his Chicago Times….and he goes to work and he drives his car, and at night when he gets home he sits down with that Chicago Times, and he watches the news with a glass of whiskey on the rocks. When all is said and done, he goes to bed, alone---placing his watch on the nightstand, and setting the alarm for morning. Only to repeat the same monotonous routine the next day. It’s like that Will Ferrel movie, Stranger than Fiction. His character in the movie has such a regimented routine that he brushes his teeth for a certain amount of strokes. He leaves at the same time every single day, to take the same bus, waking to said bus at the same pace—holding the same type of apple in his hand. It is only when his character realizes that his life is being narrated (and) that a book is being written about him (in which he is meant to die)—does he start living a normal life. He even finds that special someone.
I understand that these are completely stereotypical scenarios, and that the reality of them might be quite skewed in general. Nevertheless-it makes me wonder if I am destined to live that kind of life. Then I remember what everyone keeps telling me: Be comfortable with yourself before you go investing yourself in a relationship. So I continue to live a normal life. I get up, I go to work, I even sing in the car on the way there. I come home, I change, I go to the gym—where sometimes I push myself really hard…and other times I just go because I know I need to go. I watch new episodes of Chopped, I watch re-runs of Chopped. I go for night drives, and I read books (no, not at the same time because that would be unsafe). I go to Therapy, and I talk through my frustrations. I let my dog sleep in my bed, no matter how much hair ends up in it afterwards. I make plans with friends, I go out, and I take silly pictures. I spend my money on what I want when I want. I don’t’ have to ask permission to buy a plane ticket to California to see my friend Julia before she is deployed. I live my life.
One of the main aspects of ‘living life’ that I have enjoyed—is the rekindling of past relationships. Frenchy is no longer with us---but I get to spend a lot of time with her family. I get to watch Maelynn grow—and I see so much of Francesca in her. The other day, she was playing ‘restaurant’ and making me a ‘birthday cake.’ All of a sudden, she looks at me and she goes ‘Alexandria, would you like some cake?’ No one in that family calls me Alexandria. I’m always just Alex. She might have heard my mother call me Alexandria once or twice—but not enough to remember the actual name. So we asked her “Mae, where did you hear that name, and who told you that her name is Alexandria?” She looks at Anthony, and responds: “Frenchy, from the sky.” Frenchy from the sky. I’ve been thinking about Frenchy from the sky, quite a bit lately. In fact, I went to visit her last weekend. Right when I was pulling into the cemetery, the song Only Hope came onto my iPod (which was on shuffle). The same song that was sung at her funeral. I didn’t think much of it—I just sort of brushed it off. I pulled some of the weeds that were growing around her headstone, and I talked to her for about 15 minutes. I told her that, even though I have all of these people around me—supporting and loving me…I still feel lonely. I told her that I hope I am making her proud…and that wish I knew what the plan for me was. The next day is when Maelynn started calling me Alexandria. I am not sure what she is trying to tell me---but in some weird way I like that she is sending me signs here and there. Even if I don’t know what they mean, I still like to know that she is with me.
All I can say is this: I think that I am the best I’ve been for months. I still float back and forth, and I waver. I have moments of loneliness and moments where I’m sad. Then I look around, and I see the faces of many people in my life—who have really put up with a great deal. I know, at the end of the day, there are people who truly love me. Even though, in the back of my mind I am terrified that I will never experience love again. I don’t know why experiencing that means so much to me. I’m not sure why investing so much in feelings and emotions for another person means so much to me. I think that it’s because as human beings we all want to feel wanted and loved by another person. There comes a time, though when you have to let go of that feeling the past brought to you. It’s like taking all of those past feelings and emotions---and putting them in a box and floating them down the Des Plaines. As the water carries them away---you get a last glimpse, only to know that soon enough the water will saturate the box, turn it into mush and the contents of such will float away in their own direction. Some of those contents will disintegrate themselves. Others will travel for a long time on their own personal journey. Maybe someone else will find the contents of that box. Maybe those items will come to hold importance in someone else’s eyes. Or, there is that inevitable occurrence where the contents sink to the bottom of the river…never to be seen again. Regardless of what happens to those feelings and emotions—when you let go, something else has to take the place of what you’ve cleared out. It doesn’t necessarily have to be that feeling of romantic love and companionship. I guess what I am trying to say here, (and what I am trying to believe myself) is that whatever seems important in the moment---let that fill your heart. Right now, I am what’s filling my heart. My determination to change the way I look and feel and my yearning to be able to successfully float that box down the river is what fills my heart. My family, my friends, my own little world has filled my heart.
No matter what kind of day or week, month or year you’re having. Let something positive fill your heart. Otherwise you might just turn to dust. Believe me; I’ve spent a great deal of time in the land of negativity to know that it all just weighs you down in the end. It is so much easier sometimes to see the negative---when sometimes that little glimmer of light is shining around you so subtlety. Take the time to see it.