Portrait.

Well I survived suburbia again.  This time, there wasn’t a speck of drama (for me at least.)  It was a breath of fresh air.

The formalities.  All of Los Angeles should rejoice knowing that I got a GPS.  I also got a violin, some makeup, a scarf, and a couple of items of clothes.  It wasn’t a horrible haul, but I didn’t get everything I wanted.  So, I decided to get myself a little present.  I’m buying myself a Flip camera before CES.  A little present to myself for being such a good.. erm. Yeah.

My son (6) got a few things.  He went on and on about how he wanted a skooter. I made sure he got it.  And clothes.  I’ve never seen a child so grateful he got clothes.  Each time he’d open a box with some, hed smile and rave about it before rushing to his room to put it away.

I wonder…

He had a good Christmas.  Spoiled rotten between me and his grandparents.  He was happy.  I was happy.

My cousins came over later and prepared dinner.  Ethan and I played on the Wii.  His older cousins came by and joined us.  It was like no one else was there though.  Just him and his mommy.

At work we shoot off nerf guns in the office.  When the shipment comes in, there’s a line to get them.  It’s a little perk of the office.  I love my job sometimes.  It’s very relaxed there to a degree.

I decided to get a few.  One for Ethan, one for me at work, one for the grip, and one for me when I was with Ethan.

I called all my moms side of the family and a few very close friends.  If I didn’t call you, please do not take it personally.  It was a very busy day.

All he would talk about when asked.. was that nerf gun.

“Hold on a minute.  My mom’s not looking so I need to shoot her in the butt.”

I’d hear giggling one minute and the next…

I felt like I was a kid again.  That was the tone of the day.  Me and my son having a war… my dad telling us not to run around the house with them.

And it was a good great visit.

I decided to stay the night there rather than head back here to the city.  It was time for Ethan to go to bed.  I had him read me stories.  My dad came in and told him he needed to wash up.

I whispered to my son “Tell  your grandpa you’re on vacation so you should be able to stay up a little later with mom.”

He tried.

“Go wash up.  You have to go to bed.  You can play with mom a bit more in the morning.”

Ethan changed and I tucked him in.

“Snug as a bug in a rug.”

He smiled and gave me a kiss.

Dad came in.  He grabbed a stuffed monkey next to Ethan and handed it to him.  Pulled the sheets up a little bit over and kissed him goodnight.  And before I knew what was happening, he did the same for me.

Ethan giggled.

“Ha ha.  It’s time for mom to go to bed too!”

My son held me like a teddybear and we went to sleep.

It was quite frankly the best sleep I’ve had in months.

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Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction..

I will always love him.

In my dreams, he’s the one who is there. Forever constant though the seasons change. He is the initials carved into the tree trunk.

It’s been nearly a year now. Around this time was when we started our courtship. It would be the breath of life and the last straw on the camels back. But I didn’t know it then. Or at least I didn’t want to admit that it might be. No one ever wants to believe that “it’s just too good to be true..”

Shame on me.

If there exists such a thing as destiny, it was..it is that relationship.

Flashback: Six years ago. Bassam’s cafe. Downtown San Diego. My frequent spot for coffee and smokes. Me- the girl with the red hair, fair skin, white London Fog, a notebook in the corner with my cloves. Him- sipping coffee and puffing away at Nat Shermans.

But we didn’t know each other then. Though we were both regulars to that establishment. Constant passerbys in a laid back metropolis. Faces in the crowd. No one particular.

But then history repeats itself.

Months have gone by.. 6 months passed since we’d seen eachother beyond pixels. It was like nothing had ever happened. To be continued… story of my life. It has been an epic tale of hardship and pain. But one of justification and need not for justification.

Watching Madmen this week solidified it. Everytime I’ve been with someone else, I’ve been looking for you. Why?

I reminsced about those days. Of the honeymoon period where everything was magical. Because it was. And you were. But was it really just a dream within a dream?

Those moments weren’t all magical.

So why do I crave them so badly?

***

Edit:

I think it’s mostly the wonder of “what if” that’s the draw. I can’t believe it’s been this long. Over a year of messaging and what not. And then the timing that seemed so perfect. But if it really was so perfect, why didn’t that move go so smoothly? He’d wanted it to happen. So did I… so badly.

Instead, it was one for the books. Everything fell apart just as quickly as it came together. Perhaps there’s a reason and it’s not just a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidence anyway.

It’s not the same. It’s probably for the best. Even if you were some of the best sex I’ve ever had. I’m not sure if it was really you or it was just how tumultuous that relationship was. Emotionally masochistic that I am.

You’re gone. I’m happier. No sense living in the past anymore. I just wish you wouldn’t keep popping up everywhere. I just wish that you would fade into that background that you always wanted to be in.. but couldn’t be while you were with me, so you said.

It really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Thank you for reminding me how strong I am. For believing in me. And for saying goodbye.

A hardened heart… but I did all I could. I’m putting you back into that fantasy and letting you exist only there. It’s better this way. I wish you all the best and am genuinely happy for you and your fair lady.

I got a message when I first met you. Do you remember?

It said: He will break your heart and you will never be the same… but he’s worth it.

How true that seems to have turned out.  If I had to do it all over.. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Dear Family

I know that you’ve been in line hours fighting the crowds for those shiny shiny Black Friday specials, but for me, you’re wasting your time.

You’ve sent me letters asking me what exactly I want for Christmas.  I’ll tell you forget all that consumer crap.

What I want this holiday, and everyday are just a few “simple” things that you have failed to give me though it has been repeatedly asked.  My plea, my wish, is for this:

Your Love

Your Respect

Your Support

Despite our differences.  Despite your lack of understanding…

If only to understand

What you don’t understand.

I want the chance to have a chance.

To not be scoffed at and dismissed without being given the opportunity to prove otherwise.

For just one genuine chance….

For validation to not have to exist.

For love.

For understanding.

For your unconditional love.

But perhaps you’re right… I’m probably asking for too much.  In which case, you can feel free to send me any of the following glories of electronic & fashion consumption…

a flip camera

a laptop

a gps

the G1

jewelry

shoes

etc.

Because If I can’t have the simple things at least try and satiate me with those that you feel really matter this holiday season.

Love always- your black sheep of an entertainment loving daughter,

Jennifer

Because of his disdain

Eight months have passed since I’ve seen them last.  This is a pattern.  A horrific unchanging sequence.

It’s been almost 3 years.  The ’09 looms carefully creeping up slow. slow. slow. faster faster faster faster.

He wants to forget me.  And I struggle for some sort of acknowledgment that I exist.  He’s kept me from them.  He’s keeping me from them.

Last night I was accompanied by a bottle of wine as I held back the tears.

I find myself in the same place I was when it first happened all those years ago- at a desk, in front of a computer, writing to the air.

It’s Thanksgiving.  I’m thankful.  But there is this longing in me that yearns paramount.  I don’t need anything than the air and some pen and paper, but yet I feel incomplete.

Pieces of me. A faded memory of what I once was.

Evolved. Stronger.  Ever pressing.

He will not conquer me.

I’m getting dressed now.  It’s almost family time. Of cranberry sauce, turkey, stuffing, and sides of hypocrisy.

Two ghosts shall be at the table.  Smiling little faces. Growing.  Giggling.  Without their real mother because their father refuses to overcome himself.

In my dreams, in another life (can it please be this one) we are all together.  We are this modern age “Leave it to Beaver” sitcom.

Mom, the tech entrepreneur and entertainer.. Grandfather the Banker.

Like a Mother duck and her line of babies, except mom has a briefcase and stilettos.

Of little hands and finger turkeys.  Of silly nervous faces as they stuff the turkey.  Of asking why the cranberry sauce looks like jello but doesn’t taste like it.  Of sneaking that last bit of vegetables to the family dog and playing video games with mom.  Of the big kid poker game with pretzels and marshmellows… of sparkling cider “champagne just like mom…”

We miss you my babies.  Come home.  Please let your father come to his senses… and just.. come home for Christmas since you can’t come home today.