Archive for ‘Birthdays’

September 12, 2011

It’s My Party and I’ll Cry If I Want To

by bye2mrwrong


You would cry too if it happened to you. Yes it’s my birthday and I am officially old. I know I said that last year and the year before that too. But at least back then my life seemed to be on track. I had a great job, a wonderful husband, and I was already entertaining the thought of having kids. Now it’s all just fallen to pieces. And I can’t seem to get them back into place. No amount of glue seems to be able to place those pieces where they belong and keep them together. So in the deep of the night, when I can’t fall asleep, and my thoughts haunt me, I secretly fall apart.

I HATE him. I really do. For making me vulnerable. For making me endure so much pain. For hurting me like I never knew someone could hurt. For making false promises. For feeding me lies. For wasting my time. For taking the best years of my life. For throwing them away. For making me love him, but not loving me enough.  For wanting to stay friends now that we are divorced. For asking about me and showing interest. For knowing how to manipulate me. For the greatest mind f#uck of all times. For making me feel guilty, even now. For making me feel like a victim. For taking me away from my comfort zone. For making me have to start a brand new life. For making me doubt myself. For making me so insecure. For loving her. For making me feel so unloved. For making me feel unworthy. For making me feel I wasn’t enough. For making me feel unsexy. For making me feel I will never get what I want in love, in life. For making me lose faith yet still have hope. For making me a skeptic, yet not enough to protect my heart. For making me feel I should just settle for Mr. Right now, rather than Mr. Right. For making me crave the touch of a man. For making me miss being hugged. For making me feel miserable and lonely. For the depression that attacks me especially at night. For not loving me unconditionally until death do us part. For creeping into my thoughts and somehow controlling them. For breaking me, and shattering my heart. For not being the one.

I hate him for doing this to me. Or am I doing this to myself? Maybe I hate me.

June 9, 2011

Baby Brother

by bye2mrwrong

I interrupt my usual messages to introduce to you today my baby brother. Brown hair and brown eyes, gorgeous face with a dazzling smile, wide shouldered, and approx 6 “feet tall (no he’s not really a baby anymore, and girls this is not an advert although he is available). Today my brother turns 23 years old.  Happy Birthday Baby!

23! Despite that he will always be my baby brother (and in general the baby of the family) that’s basically a man. At that age I had already left home to the other side of the world, was in the middle of my bachelor studies and was in a serious committed relationship.

All grown up he has turned into a fine young lad; cute but modest, intelligent but apathetic, funny but recluse, sweet but cunning, sarcastic but polite. I wish I could say more about my brother. I wish I could tell you stories of the times we spent together, or of the moments that bonded us. Yes I do recall some special moments, some fights when we were kids, some moments of laughter and some moments of tears. Trips we went on, and beers we drank. But having spent the best years of his life OUT of his life I am afraid that I barely know him. I have missed out on those things that bond brothers and sisters together.

Let me go back a bit. When I came here 10 years ago I came as a young girl, barely 21, naive and positive I had a heart full of hope and a head full of dreams. Given the promise of love, courageous and excited I ran toward it leaving everything else behind. 10 years later I am to return with a broken heart and crushed dreams. Back to where I started, to the people and the life I have left behind; people who have not forgotten me, but with time have grown apart.

So do I get a chance to create new memories, to make a new stronger connection with my baby brother? I hope so. But I’m not sure; because as I move back in, he will shortly be moving out, starting down his own journey, just as I did at that age. Going off to study (although not in a foreign land) but in a different city. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll have some time to spend with his big sister, in between studying, going out with friends and giving time to some special girl he may or may not have.

Whatever happens, I hope he knows I’ve always got his back (and to be honest since he’s so much bigger and taller than me, I actually hope he’s got mine). And more importantly I hope he knows that no matter the distance I’ll always love him, cause he’ll always be my baby brother.

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May 18, 2011

The Love of a Father

by bye2mrwrong

I’ve been pondering lately about why it is that some girls like me have this vision of prince charming on his magnificent white horse? Why are we always on this hunt for Mr. Right? What has led us to believe that we will bump into this perfect stranger and that this stranger might be the “one”? The one, who fits us flawlessly, thinks we’re perfectly wonderful, sexy and smart. He laughs at our jokes, is interested in what we have to say, and completes us in every way. And best of all he wants to be with us till death do us part.

And then it hit me. My whole life I’ve grown around that man. That wonderful person who has been a constant in my life. The first love of my life, my father.  This is a man who has always made me feel good about myself. Told me how beautiful and bright I was, listened to everything I had to say, gave me security when I needed it but also pushed me forward to reach the horizon.

A man who ran behind my bike for the 100th time to prevent me from falling and bruising my knees because this girl had (and still has) no sense of balance.

A man who sang me songs before bedtime with his beautiful voice; songs which till this very day when I hear them make me tear up. And as I grew up  he read me bedtime stories and books. We read the hobbit together when I was only five. Chapter by chapter we would solve the riddles making our way to the end of the adventurous tale.

A man who had pneumonia for a week after jumping into the chilly waters of Lake Michigan in the breezy April air to get my $1 Frisbee which had fallen in, and I couldn’t bear to live without.

A man who broke his arm, as he let go of his daughter’s hand to twirl around on the ice skating rink, trying to impress me. Mission accomplished dad I’m impressed!

A man who sadly accepted his little girl would never be the math whiz he was, but would still sit with me till the early hours of dawn, tears in his eyes and frustration plastered all over his face, helping me study for a mathematics exam, as we sat side by side solving the problems away.

The more I think about it, the more clear it seems to me, that the reason I still believe in love, in relationships and in men; the reason I still believe that one day I’ll find a man who is so wonderful, so caring, so loving, and so worth it…is because I know they exist. I’ve been lucky enough to meet that man and grow up at his side. Or maybe I should say my mother was lucky (and smart) enough to meet him, fall in love with him and marry him.

Happy Birthday Dad! Here’s to many more years spent together.

February 2, 2011

Uninvited

by bye2mrwrong

Whenever you break up with someone, you don’t just break up with one person. You break up with their family their friends and their dog.  It’s inevitable, sad and annoying. Now not only have you lost your other half, you lost lots of other pieces of you as well.

So now I have an ex-husband, ex-friends, and an ex-life I need to get over. OK, I lost a cat rather than a dog, and I can’t say it’s such a big loss to lose my husband’s family. But still for 10 years they were my “in-laws”.

After all when it comes to choosing sides, my friends and family chose mine, so its logical that out of loyalty, his friends and family would choose his (even though he screwed up). I mean no one can really stay neutral in such a breakup as this. It’s like saying you’re pro Palestine but also pro-Israel. That just doesn’t work.

Suddenly you are no longer invited to family events. On your birthday you no longer get phonecalls and cards, and the Christmas cards this year never arrived (must still be lost in the mail)…I have to say that since I wasn’t the one who had an affair; I never really got evil looks from his friends or family. But I remember the wound I felt in my heart when before we even officially decided to divorce, I was sitting at his mother’s house and noticed that she had already taken my picture off the wall. The Bitch! And I remember the twist of the knife when his father decided not to invite me to a family gathering. I had been officially uninvited. I felt rejected and alienated. I no longer had a family to rely on.

I knew then that from that moment on I was no longer welcome. I would no longer host family events, would no longer bake cakes, or buy birthday presents. I was no longer part of his family, or his life. The “we” that once was had become an “I”!

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December 26, 2010

Happy Christmas-Birthday MOM!

by bye2mrwrong

Christmas is the time of year to be with the one you love, a time to be with family. It’s one of those holidays that everyone wants to feel the love, to give and share it.  It’s the time of year that people let their guard down and become unselfish and good even if just for a few days.

Here it’s been snowing like crazy with no signs of stopping and suddenly people have become generous and helpful. Something you don’t see so often any more.  So when cars are stuck in the snow, and wheels are spinning hopelessly, random strangers will get out of their car to help push. It’s amazing…LET IT SNOW!

But for me it’s not just Christmas. My great-grandmother was born on the 24th R.I.P. Her daughter, my grandmother was born on the 25th. And her daughter, my mother, was born on the 26th – that’s TODAY. So we have quite some family celebrations.

My mother has always been my best friend. We can talk for hours about everything and nothing. Or we can be silent together and still understand each other. We go shopping together, we get dressed up together before going out, and we swap clothes. When we go out people ask us if we’re sisters, which is a compliment for both of us. For her it makes her feel younger; for me this is the woman I want to look like. I want to talk like. I want to BE!

She is the reason I always wanted to have a daughter. So my daughter can have with me, what I have with my mom. This is the woman who has stood by me through thick and thin. Through every crush, every break up, and every broken heart (especially this one), she wiped away my tears. She made me strong when I was weak, and lifted my spirits when I was sad. She picked me up when I fell, and kissed my bruises until they healed.

She has always been my role model. This is the woman I idealize. She’s smart, and funny. She’s beautiful and strong. She’s a great business woman, wife and mother. She’s a great judge of character, full of wisdom and knowledge.  She’s a great listener, and good advisor. She’s caring and generous and the best cook ever.

So not being home this year, not for the holidays or my mother’s birthday, and also not having my husband around means I’M DREAMING TONIGHT OF A PLACE I LOVE. I feel that once again I miss out on another celebration, another family occasion, another lost day in the life of a loved one… WHAT A CHRISTMAS TO HAVE THE BLUES!

I DON’T WANT A LOT FOR CHRISTMAS,there is just one thing I need.  I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree…I just want to be with my mom, my dad, my FAMILY!

To all the other lonely hearts out there… HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS!

December 6, 2010

Happy Last Birthday!

by bye2mrwrong

The title may sound gloomy and depressing, almost implying that someone is about to die. No that’s not really the case, no one is dying here. But today it’s my (soon-to-be ex) husband’s birthday.

I won’t be celebrating his birthday with him; he’ll be doing that with the mistress. I wont be hosting the family for coffee and cake, or taking him out to a fancy dinner (something that had become a tradition). Still I can’t help but reminisce over the last 10 birthdays we spent together. The countless presents I got him, every year’s gesture bigger than the last.

The first year, a few months after I met him, I got him a few of those upside down bottle dispenser, which ended up being such a brilliant gift that he decided to build a whole bar in his house. The year later I bought him a beer tender (yes there is a trend here – my husband likes to drink). A few times I bought him jewelry – once it was a bracelet, which he still wears even today, and another time I got him a ring (which he took off just recently). When he turned 30 I bought him a 3 months subscription to a gym (so he would feel fit rather than old). For another birthday I surprised him with a trip to London, and there was also that time that I took him to a dinner + show at the stand up comedy club Boom Chicago.

So this will be the last time that I get to wish him a happy birthday. The last time I buy him a present. Actually it’s already wrapped and sitting on his desk waiting to be unopened, if he ever comes home.  I’m still wondering why I’m doing it. What has he done to deserve a present from me, a card, or even the slightest bit of attention? He sure hasn’t gotten me anything the last couple years for my birthday.

For me, birthdays have always been extremely important. Hell they only happen once a year and I go as far as making a list of who called me and who forgot. When I turned the big 3–0, a birthday I deemed extremely important yet dreaded at the same time, a birthday I wanted the most to not be alone on, and secretly hoped my husband would throw me a surprise party  with all our friends and family, he decided to leave the country. Of-course it was not until later that I discovered that this was exactly while he was in the midst of his passionate love affair.

And this year when I turned 31 and the weight of the world felt like it was resting on my shoulders, again I got nothing.  Not even a card. Because what can he give or say to the woman he was planning to divorce?

Me, I know exactly what he likes, and what will make him happy (even if it’s something small).  From a bottle of Malibu to help him fall asleep, to a pair of night socks to keep his cold feet warm at night, or even just a chocolate filled marzipan bar. I wonder if SHE knows that?

All I can say is that I have the urge to be good to him, regardless of how he treated me. Maybe it’s this need to show him what he’s going to miss when I’m gone. After all, only then will he start to miss those little things about me, who I was, and what I did. And maybe just maybe, he will finally regret the mistakes he made, and appreciate what a good thing he had and lost. I know it will be too late, but the thought that he might one day MISS ME somehow gives me a bit of satisfaction.