The War

Something happened yesterday that I won’t be getting into this posting. Something happened that I will however.

The ball dropped. Was it the other shoe?

For reasons unknown

For reasons I’d like to believe in

I know that I’m going to be alright.

The number 4 is now a prominent figure.. fading in and out like a neon sign on a dive bar.

But trinity would be close behind. As the rise and fall of one gasp of the fourth seems to not know for sure if they indeed want to be a contender.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…

to you?

to you?

to you?

to you?

to me?

I’m being haunted even in my daydreams. Driving around. I see reoccurances of the same car. Your car. Perhaps it’s coincidence.

But then it’s followed by yet another sign.

Of 444’s and hope…

Destiny. Fate. Someone is watching over me. I’m in the right place. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…

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.

The Beauty of no classification

Are you sure you’re going to be ok in those boots?

Honey, these boots were made for walking…

No, not so much actually.

The plan for the night was to hit the I am 8 Bit exhibit opening at the World of Wonder gallery in Hollywood. An earlier trip out for the soft opening of the Blue Palms Brewery last week was the cause. Walking back from Pig and Whistle, I walked by the gallery and was given the flyer. Having been an avid fan of the exhibit for some time now, it immediately hit my calender as a “must go to” event.

I rallied some friends to going. Cancellations. Postponements. Boy busy with work and cocktail night schmoozing. I would have gone alone had no one RSVP’d.

It was a longer walk than I’d expected initially. My roommate parked near the Brewhouse.

“It’s just like 5 or 6 blocks..”

Yeah.. um, no. We arrived late- 3 outfits (including one with a tutu) later to a line wrapped around the block. Apparently it had been packed since 6:30. We saw some of the local twitwits, middle or so in line. They’d gotten there at 8:30.. it had moved a little bit but they’d hardly made a dent. Another friend of ours was nearer to the back of the line. If it didn’t move much faster, we were just going to head out and get drinks elsewhere together.

We hopped to the back of the line with the other friend. Another came out- he’d actually been able to get into the show and showed us pictures. He ended up going to the Pig and Whistle for food and drinks afterward. We stood in line and chatted.

“A guy I went on a date with awhile back may be in this line..”

“Jena, the liklihood of that being true with the way you are is probably very high.”

Well, yeah the line consisted of a meat market of modern and attractive nerds. If I had been there with a female friend, I would have probably went up to some of them and talked. But I’m still new to LA, so that comment was a bit out there. Funny as it may have been, it wasn’t true. (Yet?)

“Steve, when was the last time you went on a date?”

“Jena, when was the last time you dated someone that wasn’t drama?”

And he shut up. Because the guy I’ve been seeing lately hasn’t had a spec of drama. In fact, the only possible bit of drama, is based on a rumor… that regardless if it was true at this point wouldn’t matter to me. Why? Because there’s no classification. There’s no pressure. It is what it is. Him and I just enjoy each other’s company and whatever happens, happens.

I enjoy dating. I have a blast. My problems are happy problems compared to some of my other single friends. I’m confident that I could go somewhere and meet someone if I actually wanted to. I’m comfortable in my own skin. But by the same accord I’m not rushing the gun for this fantastic happily ever after with a picket fence fantasy. I understand that’s what people go for. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t want it at some point. If it happens, then I’ll ride into the sunset and start that chapter. If not, then I’ll continue to ride into the sunset regardless. That’s what masterbation is for after all, right?

Conversation returned to normal. The line barely budged and we decided that however excited we were about the show, it was going to be there for 5 weeks, so headed to Musso and Grill.

Dan ended up showing up later. We said goodbye to the rest of the usual suspects, and went to Canters. Dan told us tales of Defcon. I was advised to watch my mouth given the establishment we were in.

“Jesus Fucking Christ…”

Dan laughed and we talked as normal. We discussed schedules. Plans tomorrow night? I’m not sure. But the crew will all be congregating at some point this weekend. I realized that as much as I like having a planned out schedule, at times I really prefer to leave it open. I dedicate days to people in advance, but unless its a few things, I rarely commit to anything too far in advance.

We talked about relationships.. and how the 3 of us singles needed to brainstorm as to where else we could meet new people. Eyes rolled cross the table when I said, yes I feel their pain.

Dan: “Uh huh.. when was the last time you got laid?”

“A week ago.” my roommate said without me having to answer.

I just shrugged.

“Shut up” they both said.

There’s some advantages to not having a classification. Sometimes, I love being poly. It’s that whole need to put a label thing that puts a wrench into things. Ahh.. the beauty of no restraints besides the literal ones I want.

One week later…

Ah sportfucking.  Was that what it was this week?  Sunday.. Monday..

Him-in town for a conference. Me-2hrs unloaded boxes into my apartment.  A beautiful hotel.  Serendipity.

Dinner. Movie.  Just vegging out and talking.

Because silly me, I had a good time.  And it seemed as if he did.  But now…

Flashback.. just a week ago.

We were leaving the movie theatre after little had happened.  Mostly just conversation.  He asked me to go back to the hotel.  I explained that I was having a good time, and that I didn’t want to ruin it.  Deep down, I really am a romantic.  It’s completely different when you go in knowing its just for the sport of it.  But when your heart gets a little fluttered, you get stupid.

Logic kicks in.  I explained to him that I didn’t want it to be about sport.  He seemed to agree.  But if that really is all just charm and not real… which at this posting has not been fully verified, then perhaps a major time out is in order.  Or an exclusive dedication to my love affair with the sea.

If you are what you eat, then logically, you are who you fuck.

A little part of me is left with each failed romance.  I’ve gotten better at guarding myself.. and even pickier with suitors and bed partners than one would even imagine.

“Love is a battlefield.  You don’t need to retreat, but you need to keep your shield up.”

But damnit if my eyes glimmered a little at the thought of someone genuinely appreciating me like I want to believe that he did.. that maybe he does.. but doesn’t know how to face.

I date some great men.. in training.  It’s probably part of the reason why release from the textbox world is so surreal.

I read the letters sent to my ex husbands lover (yes while we were still married.. yes somewhere floating online).  I’d like to think that I helped him.  That me coming into his life, and the string of lovers I have has made them better for the next girl.  I’m really a humanitarian, you see.

In the cab on the way to the hotel.. and throughout the days we spent together… when I interviewed the dark horse, I feel perhaps it may have made him really evaluate some things.  Which, as I read, he may be affirming he has a problem.  At least he acknowledges it.  A step in the right direction I suppose.

It’s granted that I would attract screwed up individuals.  I’d be lieing if I said I wasn’t screwed up too.

White knights and dark horses.  More and more true on so many levels.. but I can’t go into all of the details while protecting their anonomity.  It’s not my place to.  Names are unnecessary.  Faces are unnecessary.  Besides this is not a complete look see.  And I think, to some degree, you prefer it that way.

Verses of songs echo in my head.  Of whimsy and heart.  Of the hopeless romantic.  Two words that do not coincidently go together.

Of the girl with sidewalk chalk playing hopscotch in the urban jungle.  Of blowing bubbles in traffic and dancing on the beach.  Waiting for her romeo with robots and wit. (To maybe wise up?)

I sent him a text.  I want to know it’s all alright.  I want to think I fall into the “most” catagory.  I had a good time and I don’t regret my actions.  I learned from them, and I’m far from innocent here.

Every girl- even if just in the back of their head- is looking for that certain someone to ride off into the sunset with them.  They want someone to save them.  They want that white knight, who’s also that dark horse.

Maybe these men aren’t here to save me after all…

Maybe, just maybe…

I’m supposed to help save them.

I wonder what my therapist would have to say about that one.  Taking bets that we both chuckle.  Oh wait, I don’t have a therapist.  Damnit.  I guess I’m just fucked… but not literally for once.

Validation

She said I never look anyone in the eye.
I’ll tell you why.
I live a life of mystery.

You may think you may-

but you will never really ever be able to figure me out.

You will see as much as I want you to see of me.. but you will never be able to see the full me.

I am an enigma..

the fade to black scene..

the quiet fft sound as the curtain falls..

the calm before the standing ovation…

the rush before the encore.

More more more..

no more..

only if I let you.

Will I let you? Will I let you?
Rush rush
hush hush
quiet whispers
goodbye
returns to the sky.

Reaching reaching reaching
for that unattainable glint in your eye.
My memory will stain you forever more.
goodbye.

Ok, so every once in awhile, everyone goes to the zoo

I didn’t finish everything on the list yesterday.. but damn I still got a lot done.  Sleep, did make a cameo after all.  Postponed after what 4 juicers, I was due.

Last night’s slumber felt amazing.  It would have been even more so had I gotten the apartment cleaned like I would have liked.  I just pushed over some things and made a corner of bed to lay down and sink into.  I went to bed EARLY for me.  I ignored im’s and my phone.  I took time to just really relax.

Today I feel refreshed.  I’m thinking about taking a swim, running the errands I didn’t finish yesterday, and possibly cleaning.  It’s a day of spring cleaning.. a day of catch up.  A day of putting the feet up finally.

I woke up to my roommate coming home.  I was dreading it.   So far it’s been fine though.  She was so relieved to be home after her trip.  She was mellow and cheerful.  I suddenly felt bad about being such an asshole with things not being done around the house.  We talked about her trip and things and smoked a couple of cigarrettes.   Maybe things will be better.  I really hope so.

Putting some cash into savings felt good.  Now I just have to forget its there. Actually, scratch that, it doesn’t exist.  All that I have is the few dollars in my wallet this moment, and they needn’t be spent on anything that is not detrimental to life functioning… some sacrifices must be made in order to have amass debauchery and goodness later.

I’m going to look for some things to change the template here a bit and revamp.  If anyone knows of anywhere that has some good ones, please let me know.  Eventually I want to redirect and get things setup for my own sites and all of that.  I own the domains, I have ideas already.. I just need to get a few more ducks in a row to get them all up and running.

Routine is a welcome thing.. not working again today feels odd.  My boss for job 1 said that she may need me later today, but isn’t sure.  I hope that she does.

Time has become even more valuable.  Everything is an investment.  And my time is best used in those commodities.. weather they are journeys in the quest for knowledge, identity, art, love, lust, pleasure, sadism, masochism, frolic and fancy free, journalistic, documentary, etcetera.. they all serve the same purpose in the end.  I want to maximize the output from the machine.  I want more for myself than yesterday, everyday.  The seasons are changing.  It’s that time of year again.  I am the final product.  And its crunch time in overtime.