#11 - 20 Things My Future Husband Should Know About Me:
#11: January 24, 2013:
I cannot pull a real "all-nighter." It is psychically impossible for my body. My head, my body start to protest if I'm up too long, headaches, body aches, until I just fall asleep. Last night I couldn't fall asleep. (I often have trouble falling asleep, restless mind, usually. But last night was different. I was happy, content, kept thinking of all the reasons why I love him and then I just wanted to be with him.) I tried reading, that didn't work. I picked out a movie I thought I'd fall asleep during, saw the whole movie. Picked out another movie, same results. Then I looked at the clock and it was already 5 am. I thought, "Huh, I might actually be able to pull this all-nighter thing off." I didn't feel tired at all. Started watching episodes of a TV show I recently started. Then at 6:30 I passed out. And just like that, no more all-nighter. It is impossible for me, I always fall asleep, if even only for an hour or two.
#12: January 26, 2013: (Missed yesterday, due to migraines all day.)
Chocolate or Vanilla:
I will almost always choose chocolate.
Exceptions: Ice cream - chocolate chip cookie dough, cookies and cream, chocolate/vanilla twist - soft serve, rootbeer float, some sundaes. Not ice cream- pies, cheese cakes, some cookies
Favorite Ice cream ever: Chocolate Pretzel Crunch from Penn State Creamery - AMAZING!
#13: January 27, 2013: Camping
I love camping - real camping - in tents, with camp fires out in nature, the woods. It makes me feel alive. There is no technology to help you, entertain you. It's just you and nature. If there are others with you, then you have to entertain each other. Your days are determined by the sun. We should go camping at least once a year. :)
#14: January 28, 2013:
I cry when I'm mad, frustrated, really sick, sad, sometimes even at happy times. Sometimes I cry just because - sometimes my body needs to let go of all the tension and emotions built p inside me and I cry. 95% of the time all I need you to do is hold me in long hug and tell me that you love me. DON'T yell at me for crying or tell me I'm being childish - no matter what the reason is - and only ask why I'm crying if you truly don't know.
#15: January 29, 2013: Worry
I will worry about you - If we're apart, I will worry more each day I don't hear from you. I worry about anyone I care for. You might think that it's a bad thing, but really, it's good. For me to worry = to care = love.
#16: January 31, 2013:
I miss you.
#17: February 2, 2013: Family
My family means more to me than anyone/anything. I don't expect you to get along with them 100% of the time - I can't even do that. But it does have to be the majority of the time, or at least enough to be around them without me having to force you too. And they have to approve of you, mostly, So it's best to suck up to them. (My mom - the most important one to win over - will always accept bribes, especially if they come in the form of wine or chocolates.) *wink wink*
#18: February 2, 2013: Sundays
I love the idea of reserving one day a week to just relax and do whatever we want. It would make sense that this is Sunday - a great way to end/start the week, it can also change per each week's schedule. Sometimes it might be impossible to not do any work - especially while we're both in school. But it's nice to at least aim for.
#19: February 4, 2013: Help!
I don't ask for help very often, (in fact, I probably don't do it nearly as much as I should), so when I do reach out for help- in any way, small or big, it means that I really need it.
#20: February 6, 2013:
Because of all the times that I've been badly hurt, my heart has been broken, and all the time I've sank into depression, it takes me an extremely long time to be able to fully trust someone - months, usually 3, 4, 5 more? So when I (or I should say my heart) trust completely, 100%, do NOT abuse it. I am tired of being hurt after letting people in. If you hurt me in any way, you will pay for it and you will be sorry.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
Things that my future husband should know about me
A new blog theme:
THINGS THAT MY FUTURE HUSBAND SHOULD KNOW ABOUT ME
This will be a daily (or at least a couple times a week) blog discussing things that my future husband (whomever he may turn out to be ;) ) should/needs to know about me ... Some will be serious, some silly. Some spontaneous, some in reflection of what is going on that day. Some will be just short statements, others will be longer entries, stories even. But ALL will be TRUE ... And they will appear in no certain order (meaning the first is not necessarily the most important and the last is not necessarily the least important -they are all important!) Stay tuned for more
1-10
#1: January 14, 2013:
I do not expect you to like all of the same things that I do - except football! You MUST like football - American football that is (as if there is any other kind that matters - ha!). But you don't have to like the same team necessarily. Rivalries could be fun! Just have respect for my team - Penn State. And accept that if it comes down to it - I Will choose Joe Paterno over you! <3 Point of this being: you don't have to have the same interests, passions, hobbies, etc., just as long as you have some!
#2: January 15, 2013:
When given the choice for dinner, I will almost always chose breakfast, Italian, and dessert - in that order. Breakfast pizza and chocolate milk is the best choice for a meal, obviously, - all three! If you want to score brownie points - please note this down in your little "To make Kate happy" notebook. :)
#3: January 16, 2013:
All or Nothing -
When I say I love you, I mean it in everything. When I say I love you, you are the only one that I love in that way. When I say I love you, I love with all of my heart - not just part of it.
When you say that you love me, I expect all of the above to be returned to me.
#4: January 17, 2013:
I hate mornings. 9/10 times I'm grumpy when i wake up until I have coffee, 3/10 times still grumpy after coffee. It usually takes me a while to wake up. On the rare occasion that I am wide awake right away, I'll be extremely tired - almost zombie mode - later that day.
#5: January 18, 2013:
I am one of the most clumsiest people that you will ever know. I will fall on the ice, butt first. I will trip over my own feet. I will walk into walls, doors, and occasionally other people. I have been known to fall both up and down stairs - yes, you read that right. I will drop things - sometimes breaking them, unfortunately. But knock on wood - do it now! Quick! - I have only had one concussion (playing volleyball) and one broken bone (little toe - banging it against the table really, really hard). Although I have had several sprains, but those don't count!
#6: January 19, 2013:
I will ALWAYS be honest with you, and I expect the same from you - doesn't matter if it will hurt me or make me happy or what. Dishonesty hurts more than honesty and Dishonest people are my least favorite people.
#7: January 20, 2013:
I LOVE giving presents. Most of the time I get more joy out of giving gifts than I do receiving them. And I usually put a lot of thought into them, probably more than is needed sometimes. This, of course, does not mean that you don't have to give me any. It only means to expect lots of them.
#8: January 21, 2013:
Versions of my perfect day:
1. Outside. We wake up and have a huge breakfast. Drive to the football stadium for an awesome game in which our team wins. After the game we get bacon cheeseburgers (or pizza) and milkshakes. Then we find a little back road, park your truck and lie in the back staring at the stars.
2. Inside: We wake up to a big breakfast and just lie around the house, reading and watching movies all day. Your arms wrapped around me, whispering in my ear.
#9: January 22, 2013:
Joe Paterno will always be one of my heroes and one of my biggest inspirations. I will always look up to him and defend him. (RIP Joe Pa, 1/22/2012)
#10: January 23, 2013:
I love country music, well, all kinds of music just about. Real music at least, not rap. But most of the time I'll have country on. You don't have to like country (but it's a bonus) but you have to at least tolerate it, if only because I play it all the time.
THINGS THAT MY FUTURE HUSBAND SHOULD KNOW ABOUT ME
This will be a daily (or at least a couple times a week) blog discussing things that my future husband (whomever he may turn out to be ;) ) should/needs to know about me ... Some will be serious, some silly. Some spontaneous, some in reflection of what is going on that day. Some will be just short statements, others will be longer entries, stories even. But ALL will be TRUE ... And they will appear in no certain order (meaning the first is not necessarily the most important and the last is not necessarily the least important -they are all important!) Stay tuned for more
1-10
#1: January 14, 2013:
I do not expect you to like all of the same things that I do - except football! You MUST like football - American football that is (as if there is any other kind that matters - ha!). But you don't have to like the same team necessarily. Rivalries could be fun! Just have respect for my team - Penn State. And accept that if it comes down to it - I Will choose Joe Paterno over you! <3 Point of this being: you don't have to have the same interests, passions, hobbies, etc., just as long as you have some!
#2: January 15, 2013:
When given the choice for dinner, I will almost always chose breakfast, Italian, and dessert - in that order. Breakfast pizza and chocolate milk is the best choice for a meal, obviously, - all three! If you want to score brownie points - please note this down in your little "To make Kate happy" notebook. :)
#3: January 16, 2013:
All or Nothing -
When I say I love you, I mean it in everything. When I say I love you, you are the only one that I love in that way. When I say I love you, I love with all of my heart - not just part of it.
When you say that you love me, I expect all of the above to be returned to me.
#4: January 17, 2013:
I hate mornings. 9/10 times I'm grumpy when i wake up until I have coffee, 3/10 times still grumpy after coffee. It usually takes me a while to wake up. On the rare occasion that I am wide awake right away, I'll be extremely tired - almost zombie mode - later that day.
#5: January 18, 2013:
I am one of the most clumsiest people that you will ever know. I will fall on the ice, butt first. I will trip over my own feet. I will walk into walls, doors, and occasionally other people. I have been known to fall both up and down stairs - yes, you read that right. I will drop things - sometimes breaking them, unfortunately. But knock on wood - do it now! Quick! - I have only had one concussion (playing volleyball) and one broken bone (little toe - banging it against the table really, really hard). Although I have had several sprains, but those don't count!
#6: January 19, 2013:
I will ALWAYS be honest with you, and I expect the same from you - doesn't matter if it will hurt me or make me happy or what. Dishonesty hurts more than honesty and Dishonest people are my least favorite people.
#7: January 20, 2013:
I LOVE giving presents. Most of the time I get more joy out of giving gifts than I do receiving them. And I usually put a lot of thought into them, probably more than is needed sometimes. This, of course, does not mean that you don't have to give me any. It only means to expect lots of them.
#8: January 21, 2013:
Versions of my perfect day:
1. Outside. We wake up and have a huge breakfast. Drive to the football stadium for an awesome game in which our team wins. After the game we get bacon cheeseburgers (or pizza) and milkshakes. Then we find a little back road, park your truck and lie in the back staring at the stars.
2. Inside: We wake up to a big breakfast and just lie around the house, reading and watching movies all day. Your arms wrapped around me, whispering in my ear.
#9: January 22, 2013:
Joe Paterno will always be one of my heroes and one of my biggest inspirations. I will always look up to him and defend him. (RIP Joe Pa, 1/22/2012)
#10: January 23, 2013:
I love country music, well, all kinds of music just about. Real music at least, not rap. But most of the time I'll have country on. You don't have to like country (but it's a bonus) but you have to at least tolerate it, if only because I play it all the time.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Created from a daily writing prompt from Figment.com (will probably turn into more, a full length essay hopefully, maybe more).
The prompt:
Take the first page of a story you love and mirror the shape of it. Without using any of the same characters or subject matter, copy the structure. Try and make your sentences and paragraphs the same length as the original. When the original uses description, describe. When the original uses dialogue, use dialogue.
The prompt:
Same
shapes
Take the first page of a story you love and mirror the shape of it. Without using any of the same characters or subject matter, copy the structure. Try and make your sentences and paragraphs the same length as the original. When the original uses description, describe. When the original uses dialogue, use dialogue.
You can
go even further by trying to match nouns, adjectives, and verbs as well. If you
post your result on Figment, make sure you
mention what story you're using as inspiration!
Inspiration from The Sun Also Rises and the character of Robert Cohn.
Joseph Paterno was once the most winniest coach in all of
college football. Now, many are not impressed by this title, but to the true
Penn State fans Paterno meant a lot. Actually, this is even an understatement,
because he built the University, the legacy of Penn State, and some even argue
college football. There was a certain something about him that made you feel like
you were talking to a family member, a grandpa, even though you knew that you
weren’t related to him at all, but there was still that certain comfort that
family would give and this you got from him. He was Rip Engle’s most celebrated
pupil. Rip Engle taught his athletes at Brown University and then at
Pennsylvania State University to give their best no matter what the situation.
Rip Engle taught them to always be the leader, not the follower, no matter what
position they played. This fit Paterno. He learned fast. He was so good,
developed into such a leader, that Rip persuaded him to sign an assistant
football coach contract at Penn State, following Rip from Brown to Penn State.
This lead Joe to a new location, sixteen years later, Joe would succeed Rip as
Penn State’s head coach, but it gave a new purpose, and it gave him a new home.
In his last year at Penn State he coached while secretly battling lung cancer
and secured the wins that would give him more wins than any other college
football coach. I never met any one of his power who cared so much for each and
every student. They were students first before they were his athletes.
Friday, November 16, 2012
She didn't blush anymore
She didn’t blush
anymore.
She used to always blush when she’d think of her crushes.
First there was her cousin. “Everyone will think it’s
stupid. No one will get it. They won’t see how he is with me. They won’t see
the real him, and the real me.” She blushed as she kept this crush to
herself. She was afraid no one would
understand why she liked him so much. “He’s your cousin. That’s gross!” This she
imagined them saying if the news got out. They didn’t know that he listened to
what she said when everyone else didn’t. They didn’t see the special time he
set aside for their annual canoe rides out on the lake during the family
camping trips every summer. Then he started bringing his girlfriend on these
trips and she was left out of the canoe rides. Instead of blushing at her
liking him, she was angry.
Then there was the guy who would become her cousin through
marriage. This was a different guy than the first cousin. When they were dating
he wasn’t officially her cousin yet… But she still blushed when her best friend
reminded her that it was the same as being cousins because his dad was still
dating her aunt. No one knew why she dated this guy. She couldn’t even explain
it, really. Except that he was her first real boyfriend. That was all she could
say. She didn’t blush when she dumped him and started dating another guy on the
same day.
After this, she had a series of crushes on all of the
popular guys. There was one that lasted the entire 7th grade and into the 8th
grade. She had always talked to him, went to all of his football games. He
wrestled for her dad; she travelled with the team to all of the tournaments so
she could spend every Saturday with him. They became close friends, but she
could never tell him just how much she liked him, that it was more than just
friends for her, much much more than that. Her cheeks turned red every time she
thought of what she would say to him. He was the new kid in school, but he
became popular after the first month he was there. By the time his second year,
he was the most popular guy in their grade and every girl had a crush on him. She’d never be good enough for him. During
the eighth grade dance he made sure he saved a song for her. It was the last
song of the night, “Truly Madly Deeply” by Savage Garden. It was perfect, she thought. This
will be the time that I finally get to tell him how I feel, when it’s just us,
him and me. As they started dancing and she was building up the courage to
speak, he spoke first. “I can’t tell you how much you mean to me. You’re
amazing, funny, smart, always there for me to talk to. I don’t know what I’d do
without you. You’re my best friend.” Her pulse quickened, palms started to
sweat, her throat tightened. “You’re like one of the guys to me.” If he said
anything after this, she didn’t hear it. She blushed right before everything
went numb inside her. If she still blushed after that, she didn’t know it.
She used to blush a lot in high school. Like the time she
was only a sophomore and he was a senior. He had a girlfriend – they had been
dating for five years at that point. But he would talk to her – not his
girlfriend – late at night. On the band trip, they fell asleep talking to each
other on the phone in the hotel – she blushed at some of the questions that he’d
asked. He asked her to sit next to him during the musical they saw the next day
– his girlfriend was furious and jealous at this. She blushed when she thought
of all the assumptions that people would make. One night, he began asking her
sexual questions. With some, she had no idea what he was asking or suggesting
and so she just made up answers. She blushed at her ignorance of these things. The
farthest she had gone with any guy was making out … He was the first guy to get
her to do sexual things; she blushed at this, too. He made a plan: he’d be the
first guy to “break her in” … she blushed during the whole time he told her his
plan. Then she blushed and cried when it never happened. How could she be so stupid to think that it would actually come true?
She didn’t blush anymore; she just tried to get him out of her head, and heart.
There were several boyfriends that she had who would go only
as far as holding her hand, one wouldn’t even do that. She was disappointed
with their lack of intimacy, but wouldn’t pressure them to do anything. She
didn’t know how to initiate anything, but she just wanted to be with someone.
Being alone was what she feared most in the world. She used to blush at her
indecision; why couldn’t she just be
happy with what she had?
Then there was the guy who liked her more than anyone else
ever had. She didn’t really know what to do with this guy. He liked her so much,
but she couldn’t return the feelings. Sure, he was a great person, good friend,
everyone liked him … but she didn’t like
him, not like that at least. She wasn’t attracted to him like she was to other
guys. She blushed at his persistence; he kept telling her how much he liked
her, what was “so great” about her, that she should date him. She turned him
down, time after time. Once she even made up a boyfriend – Brad Funerelli, he
was the best boyfriend ever! But still this guy kept on asking her out, until
finally she gave in and agreed to date him. At
least I know he won’t leave me for another girl, she thought. She used to
blush, knowing that she could never match his affection for her. Then one day: “I
think we’re moving towards just being friend with benefits… I think it’s better
if we were just friends.” First she blushed because she didn’t even know what “friends
with benefits” meant, and then she blushed when she realized he was breaking up with her. After this she didn’t know what to
do, if she couldn’t keep him, hold on to him, how would she be able to keep
anyone? She would be alone forever. Her blushing face turned pale and the tears
started to fall, forming rivers down her cheeks as she ran out the door of his
house.
Standing next to her car, crying, sobbing, gasping for air,
she heard a familiar voice coming toward her. In her crying fit she couldn’t
hear or understand what he was saying, her own sorrow was louder than his
words. But she recognized the voice; it was her best friend. He came up to her,
first excited to see her – they always loved talking to each other – then worried
when he saw her crying. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? What happened? He didn’t…”
He looked into her eyes. “Oh my god! He did! How could he?! I’m so sorry.
Truly, I am. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” And he hugged her. It was the
best thing that she could have gotten at that moment. A hug from her best
friend. She felt safe in that hug, like he’d make everything okay. His warmth
warming up her face. She blushed with their embrace. Her lips twitched into a
smile, barely recognizable as a smile, as he brushed the tears falling off her
face. “It’ll be okay. I promise. You’re strong; you’ve been through worse. You
inspire me to face every day with a smile; you bring light to my world.” This
would be the last time that she smiled for months.
She thought about that talk every night … How he made her
feel safe, liked, wanted, appreciated. How his fingers felt on her face as he
brushed the tears off. How his arms felt, how she could smell his sweet scent as
he surrounded her with comfort. She remembered his last words in that conversation,
“You’re not alone. I’ll always be here for you.” She decided that this was it. She
was going to ask him to be her date to the Homecoming dance. No one had asked
her – they must have all known what a mess she was – and as far as she knew, he
hadn’t asked anyone. When she finally got the courage to ask, he told her that
he didn’t think he was even going to go. He wasn’t a “fan” of dances. She
wanted to believe these words, more than anything she wanted to believe him.
But she knew that it wasn’t true. She knew that he was just saying that to be
nice and to keep the friendship that they had built over the years. She
understood this, and she knew that she wasn’t the type of girl he dated, or
even took to dances, anyways. She was too good of a friend to be the other type
of girl. This didn’t stop her disappointment, though. It didn’t stop the
sadness, the tears, the lonely nights that all became too familiar to her.
Her face wouldn’t flush red anymore …
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Lessons learned from some Dads in my life
So today's Father's Day... naturally this post will be about all the dads in my life.
First I have to start with the man that was ALWAYS there for me, even after he passed away - my Grandpa.
Lessons I've learned from Papa Cobb:
- Never go to bed angry.
- Always say what's on your mind, never leave anything unsaid.
- ALWAYS Love unconditionally, no matter what. That's what real love is.
- Whenever you need to blame someone for something, there's always the dog ;)
- Stick with your team, whatever team you choose- The Yankees - no matter what happens in the season.
- Always do your best, give it your best shot, and be your best. You will be remembered for it.
- Always smile.
Lessons I've learned from Papa Blakelock:
- Never forget where you come from.
- Love with all your heart and nothing less.
- Find a good guy and you'll be happy for life.
- It won't always be easy, but it will always be worth it.
Lessons learned from my Dad - Jim Cobb
- Never quit, only quitters loose.
- Even though sometimes it doesn't show as much as others, it doesn't mean that you aren't loved and appreciated.
- Always carry chapstick. :)
Lesson learned from my brother-in-law, Jonathan, and father of my niece, Cora:
- Never be ashamed of what you've done or didn't do in the past. You can always learn from the past. Lesson learned form my Step-dad, Tim:
- Everyone needs some love in their life, so love them - whether they are blood or not, love them like they are and you'll be loved back. <3
Lesson learned from Uncle Glenn:
- Sugar cookies are best when frozen and snuck into church on Christmas Eve.
- Making people laugh feels 100 times better than anything else, for both of you.
- Always stick by your family, they are blood and will always be there.
There have been times when I haven't had the greatest, best, or even a good relationship with my dad. Those times I cannot change, and part of me doesn't want to change them because I've learned from many that whatever has or hasn't happened in the past, has made you into who you are today and who you will become tomorrow. And I like, no love the person that I am right now. I can feel proud of who I am, so no I wouldn't change those. I also wouldn't change them because it allowed other people to step into my life and show me the love and support that I needed, Papa Cobb, Tim, Uncle Glenn - another dad, my God father... So this post goes out to all the dads that have helped me get through anything in my life, whether they know it or not. I love and appreciate every one of them and will never forget what they taught me.
First I have to start with the man that was ALWAYS there for me, even after he passed away - my Grandpa.
Lessons I've learned from Papa Cobb:
- Never go to bed angry.
- Always say what's on your mind, never leave anything unsaid.
- ALWAYS Love unconditionally, no matter what. That's what real love is.
- Whenever you need to blame someone for something, there's always the dog ;)
- Stick with your team, whatever team you choose- The Yankees - no matter what happens in the season.
- Always do your best, give it your best shot, and be your best. You will be remembered for it.
- Always smile.
Lessons I've learned from Papa Blakelock:
- Never forget where you come from.
- Love with all your heart and nothing less.
- Find a good guy and you'll be happy for life.
- It won't always be easy, but it will always be worth it.
Lessons learned from my Dad - Jim Cobb
- Never quit, only quitters loose.
- Even though sometimes it doesn't show as much as others, it doesn't mean that you aren't loved and appreciated.
- Always carry chapstick. :)
Lesson learned from my brother-in-law, Jonathan, and father of my niece, Cora:
- Never be ashamed of what you've done or didn't do in the past. You can always learn from the past. Lesson learned form my Step-dad, Tim:
- Everyone needs some love in their life, so love them - whether they are blood or not, love them like they are and you'll be loved back. <3
Lesson learned from Uncle Glenn:
- Sugar cookies are best when frozen and snuck into church on Christmas Eve.
- Making people laugh feels 100 times better than anything else, for both of you.
- Always stick by your family, they are blood and will always be there.
There have been times when I haven't had the greatest, best, or even a good relationship with my dad. Those times I cannot change, and part of me doesn't want to change them because I've learned from many that whatever has or hasn't happened in the past, has made you into who you are today and who you will become tomorrow. And I like, no love the person that I am right now. I can feel proud of who I am, so no I wouldn't change those. I also wouldn't change them because it allowed other people to step into my life and show me the love and support that I needed, Papa Cobb, Tim, Uncle Glenn - another dad, my God father... So this post goes out to all the dads that have helped me get through anything in my life, whether they know it or not. I love and appreciate every one of them and will never forget what they taught me.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Continuation of the "rambling"
Continuing my previous rambling ...
Perhaps I did love Brandon then. I remember being horribly heartbroken. I knew that our relationship could not last much longer, even though I wanted it to more than anything. I knew that it was going to come to an end soon, and that if I didn't end it myself, I would be horribly heartbroken. And I couldn't see past the heartbreak. But I couldn't end it, I couldn't think of what words to say.
This was the fourth time in my life that I had been truly heartbroken, when I could literally feel my heart ache as it was shred into tiny pieces. The first time was when I realized that I would never have a "normal" relationship with my father. the words he spoke to me - in anger, fear, disappointment, sorrow, truth?, I don't know - still ring in my head. The second was when my Grandfather passed away. The first man that I truly loved. That I gave everything for and to. His last words - I love you, Kate. Make me proud! - echo in everything I do. The third was the third time that my Grandmother battled cancer. I get my courage, bravery, and strength from her - the strongest woman, no, person that I ever knew.
And then there was the fourth. Brandon. The words that he spoke to me that night were not in anger or hatred but in pity and sorrow. He knew me better than anyone else, save for myself and my mom. He knew that by breaking up with me, by breaking my heart, he would be breaking me (or at least the part of me that was then). he learned, grew, and matured in the five and a half years we were together. There were times when he tried to end it before - through anger, words of hatred and disgust, and cheating - but he always came back. This time was different. His voice wasn't steady, it shook. I could hear his tears fall simoltaneously with mine. "Call your mom, Iaisha, friends. You're going to need them." He told me. "Don't try to contact me in any way, or my friends or family."
The words "I fell apart" do not even begin to describe all that happened after he hung up the phone. While on the phone, I cried, like he was dying, I begged him not to do this, I directed words of anger and hurt toward him. But I was still in a state of shock. It was like I was watching it all happen from inside a bubble. As soon as he pushed END, the bubble popped and everything rushed in on me. I felt all of the emotions at once and didn't know what to do. I just sat there. And cried. For thirty minutes straight.
Then, I called my mom - at midnight, while crying hysterically. Naturally, she was immediately worried and all I could get out was "He broke up" "Who? What? What happened?" "Brand." (I couldn't say his full name). "He dumped." - More crying. - "Me." This was followed by "Oh honey. I'm so sorry. Look. Try to get some rest tonight and I will call you tomorrow." (Rest, just like the 19th century doctors always said, was always her solution.) In her head, she was probably saying, "That son of a bitch. I'm going to kill him if I ever get the chance." And despite the "get rest" advice, I didn't get any. I went into work the next day with half an hour of horrible sleep. So when I wasn't crying, I was falling asleep at my desk. My co-workers - who knew the on-going problems and continuously tried talking me into breaking up with him - saw my face and the following scene ensued:
Denise: You finally did it?
I shook my head.
Jamie: He didn't...
Tears started rolling out of my eyes and down my face.
Denise: That Bastard...
I nodded my head and started bawling.
I was sent home after two hours of this - crying and sleeping, no work being done. Well, not really sent home but taken home, Jamie drove my car and Denise followed us. As soon as they left, my mom called and I tried to explain everything that happened.
Perhaps I did love Brandon then. I remember being horribly heartbroken. I knew that our relationship could not last much longer, even though I wanted it to more than anything. I knew that it was going to come to an end soon, and that if I didn't end it myself, I would be horribly heartbroken. And I couldn't see past the heartbreak. But I couldn't end it, I couldn't think of what words to say.
This was the fourth time in my life that I had been truly heartbroken, when I could literally feel my heart ache as it was shred into tiny pieces. The first time was when I realized that I would never have a "normal" relationship with my father. the words he spoke to me - in anger, fear, disappointment, sorrow, truth?, I don't know - still ring in my head. The second was when my Grandfather passed away. The first man that I truly loved. That I gave everything for and to. His last words - I love you, Kate. Make me proud! - echo in everything I do. The third was the third time that my Grandmother battled cancer. I get my courage, bravery, and strength from her - the strongest woman, no, person that I ever knew.
And then there was the fourth. Brandon. The words that he spoke to me that night were not in anger or hatred but in pity and sorrow. He knew me better than anyone else, save for myself and my mom. He knew that by breaking up with me, by breaking my heart, he would be breaking me (or at least the part of me that was then). he learned, grew, and matured in the five and a half years we were together. There were times when he tried to end it before - through anger, words of hatred and disgust, and cheating - but he always came back. This time was different. His voice wasn't steady, it shook. I could hear his tears fall simoltaneously with mine. "Call your mom, Iaisha, friends. You're going to need them." He told me. "Don't try to contact me in any way, or my friends or family."
The words "I fell apart" do not even begin to describe all that happened after he hung up the phone. While on the phone, I cried, like he was dying, I begged him not to do this, I directed words of anger and hurt toward him. But I was still in a state of shock. It was like I was watching it all happen from inside a bubble. As soon as he pushed END, the bubble popped and everything rushed in on me. I felt all of the emotions at once and didn't know what to do. I just sat there. And cried. For thirty minutes straight.
Then, I called my mom - at midnight, while crying hysterically. Naturally, she was immediately worried and all I could get out was "He broke up" "Who? What? What happened?" "Brand." (I couldn't say his full name). "He dumped." - More crying. - "Me." This was followed by "Oh honey. I'm so sorry. Look. Try to get some rest tonight and I will call you tomorrow." (Rest, just like the 19th century doctors always said, was always her solution.) In her head, she was probably saying, "That son of a bitch. I'm going to kill him if I ever get the chance." And despite the "get rest" advice, I didn't get any. I went into work the next day with half an hour of horrible sleep. So when I wasn't crying, I was falling asleep at my desk. My co-workers - who knew the on-going problems and continuously tried talking me into breaking up with him - saw my face and the following scene ensued:
Denise: You finally did it?
I shook my head.
Jamie: He didn't...
Tears started rolling out of my eyes and down my face.
Denise: That Bastard...
I nodded my head and started bawling.
I was sent home after two hours of this - crying and sleeping, no work being done. Well, not really sent home but taken home, Jamie drove my car and Denise followed us. As soon as they left, my mom called and I tried to explain everything that happened.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Ramblings on "Someday my Prince will come"
So was up reading last night, cause I couldn't fall asleep and suddenly I had this urge to write. So I found my notebook and started writing away. This is what I came up with:
People are always trying to give me advice. Some say cliches that I have come to love. "Always listen to your heart. Follow your heart." "Find what makes you happy, not others." Some things I have always questioned, even tried to resist at times. "Love will find you when you least expect it." If I am not expecting it, then how do I know if it's there? "Don't go searching for love, let it find you." If everyone had this mentality would there still be love in the world? If everyone waited for love to find them, what would happen? Doesn't there have to be some aggressive to the passive int he world?
When I grew older (and supposedly more mature) I worried more and more about the idea of love. As a kid I learned of love as a prince coming to save the day on his white horse. My sister and I watched Sleeping Beauty so much I still remember the words Aurora sang to her forest friends, "Some day my prince will come..." People have even said this tome, while in my head the music was playing in the background. In my pre-10 year old years I had dreamed of marrying a prince (or John Wayne). Then I became devastated when I found out the Duke had died of cancer (why hadn't anyone told me this when I dreamed of marrying JW before?) and the princes took center stage. For most girls that age, and even older into the early teens, they loved the idea of marrying a prince because that would mean that they would become a princess. This is probably the reason that makes the most sense. For me, though, it wasn't the idea of becoming a princess that I dreamed of most, it was the idea of marrying the prince. The prince was the perfect love, the perfect man, and they ALWAYS lived happily ever after. I wanted that love, the devoted love.
Throughout my later teens and early twenties, the phrase "your prince will come someday" had transformed. At 13, I dreamed that my very own Prince Phillip was going to come riding along on his trusty steed and we'd instantly fall in love. My worries about love began at 16. I started to worry, wonder, fear... "Not many people ride horses anymore. None around here. What is he, my prince, going to do now? How is he going to ride in on the horse, how will I know that its him without the horse? By the time I turned 18, I had give up on the fairytale image and instead I turned to finding the "modern-day" version of a prince. To me, "some day my prince will come" now meant "some day, my love will come."
But this is what worried me the most. Will he come? Will the love of my life ever find me? And if so, how will he find me? I was a senior in high school when I met Brandon. When we first met I could have (and probably did, in my head) mistaken him for Aladdin, he looked just like the Disney prince! I didn't really know what love was at that point (even though I thought I knew several times, or claimed that I did), but I thought that this had to be it. I had to fall in love with Aladdin, I mean Brandon. After dating for only three months, he said "I love you" first. I convinced myself for the next five and a half years that I loved him, also. However, by the end of our relationship I had learned what love was and what it wasn't. I knew that it wasn't real love anymore (or maybe never was) but just in love with the idea of being in love, hanging onto love.
People are always trying to give me advice. Some say cliches that I have come to love. "Always listen to your heart. Follow your heart." "Find what makes you happy, not others." Some things I have always questioned, even tried to resist at times. "Love will find you when you least expect it." If I am not expecting it, then how do I know if it's there? "Don't go searching for love, let it find you." If everyone had this mentality would there still be love in the world? If everyone waited for love to find them, what would happen? Doesn't there have to be some aggressive to the passive int he world?
When I grew older (and supposedly more mature) I worried more and more about the idea of love. As a kid I learned of love as a prince coming to save the day on his white horse. My sister and I watched Sleeping Beauty so much I still remember the words Aurora sang to her forest friends, "Some day my prince will come..." People have even said this tome, while in my head the music was playing in the background. In my pre-10 year old years I had dreamed of marrying a prince (or John Wayne). Then I became devastated when I found out the Duke had died of cancer (why hadn't anyone told me this when I dreamed of marrying JW before?) and the princes took center stage. For most girls that age, and even older into the early teens, they loved the idea of marrying a prince because that would mean that they would become a princess. This is probably the reason that makes the most sense. For me, though, it wasn't the idea of becoming a princess that I dreamed of most, it was the idea of marrying the prince. The prince was the perfect love, the perfect man, and they ALWAYS lived happily ever after. I wanted that love, the devoted love.
Throughout my later teens and early twenties, the phrase "your prince will come someday" had transformed. At 13, I dreamed that my very own Prince Phillip was going to come riding along on his trusty steed and we'd instantly fall in love. My worries about love began at 16. I started to worry, wonder, fear... "Not many people ride horses anymore. None around here. What is he, my prince, going to do now? How is he going to ride in on the horse, how will I know that its him without the horse? By the time I turned 18, I had give up on the fairytale image and instead I turned to finding the "modern-day" version of a prince. To me, "some day my prince will come" now meant "some day, my love will come."
But this is what worried me the most. Will he come? Will the love of my life ever find me? And if so, how will he find me? I was a senior in high school when I met Brandon. When we first met I could have (and probably did, in my head) mistaken him for Aladdin, he looked just like the Disney prince! I didn't really know what love was at that point (even though I thought I knew several times, or claimed that I did), but I thought that this had to be it. I had to fall in love with Aladdin, I mean Brandon. After dating for only three months, he said "I love you" first. I convinced myself for the next five and a half years that I loved him, also. However, by the end of our relationship I had learned what love was and what it wasn't. I knew that it wasn't real love anymore (or maybe never was) but just in love with the idea of being in love, hanging onto love.
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