Fooling the Fool

“Not all scars show, not all wounds heal, sometimes you can’t see the pain someone else feels”

Once upon a time I felt like I was on top of the world. Now I feel like I am on the bottom. Once I thought my life was falling into place. Now I feel like it has fallen apart. So Who am I Fooling? Can’t they see behind this mask? Don’t they feel my pain?

I’ve been down in the dumps the last few days. Or is it months? I can’t remember. It seems this year I’ve been more sad than happy, more down than up, more tearful then cheery. And by now it’s hard to remember when I’ve been gloomy or why. On the up side it does make it easy to recall the few great moments I’ve had. Those few passionate kisses, the rare moonlight strolls, the gentle touch of hands wiping away my tears, the tights bear hugs, the memorable chats that seemed to go on forever, the wild dancing in the nights, the reckless drunken moments of craziness, the rolling laughter and the fun.

Yes they say that in order to truly appreciate the good one must first experience bad. But who are we fooling? Would I have enjoyed the good less if I wasn’t in such a slump? Can good not be fully appreciated when contrasted with neutrality or indifference rather than with bad?

I know I know. I’ve heard it all before. “Love yourself first”, “Learn to be happy on your own”, “It’s empowering not to need a man”, and “You are more than the men you like”. But as much as I keep hearing these things, I also know that the whole Fake It Till You Make It isn’t really working for me. Either I really like being in victim mode, or I just don’t know how to stop feeling sorry for myself. I want to stop looking at other couples in envy. I want to stop being jealous when I see a pregnant lady walking by. I want the dream. YES I want to be in a relationship. And not just any relationship, but a LOVING relationship. Not because I’m pathetic, or weak or lack self-esteem when I’m on my own. But because I’m human. And we humans, as the social animals that we are want contact. Someone else to be with, to share ourselves with, to laugh with, to love. Is it so wrong to want it? Is it so bad to think I deserve it?

 I’m not sure if people don’t realize or just don’t want to realize how sad I am. They see this as a fresh start to my new life. All doors are wide open and I am free to walk through any one of them. But those who truly know me can probably tell that although I keep myself busy,no not just busy but exhausted. Although I am overloaded with work, and surrounded by friends… I am not in a happy place. Not just yet.

Time Heals All Pain…

…but for some it may take a little longer.

As it snows once again on the pages of my blog, I suddenly realize that it’s been more than a year since I’ve been blogging. More than a year since I’ve been writing, sharing my deepest feelings and my inner-most thoughts. More than a year of hurting, crying and then bleeding it out on these pages in dire need of support, of a listening ear, sometimes in need of more.

Only a few months ago this was my canvas and I needed my words spilt across it like blood. I was an emotional wreck, out of control. And in an attempt to fill the pain of lost love, I drowned myself in wild nights of dancing filled with men and rum. I am not sure which one I consumed more of…either way, it never seemed enough.

Time, it changes everything. Just a few months ago I was a mess. Today… today I woke up and as I sat up in bed and saw myself in the mirror in front of me, I noticed that I was alone. I smiled sadly at the reflection and pondered at my new reality. Only a year ago I would have woken up in his arms. Feeling warm, comforted, and secure.

Thankfully the thought did not linger long. It’s not that I’m over him. But I guess I’m adjusting to this new life. I cannot say that I do not think about him. His name crosses my lips at least once a day and he is often present in my thoughts. At times I just wonder what he’s doing, or how he’s doing without me. And when I feel particularly lonely,  I ruminate if I would have been happier with him right now.

Mostly I allow my mind to remember only the good which makes me reminisce. But once in a while a waft of bad memories come flooding into my mind. And then I wonder if it’s truly him I’m missing or just the feeling of being in a relationship and of being loved. Cause “maybe, just maybe, the best thing we can ever do is admit and accept that someone isn’t right for us. Even if at one point, we swore they were Mr. Right.”

Returning To The Place Where It All Began

I had 8 days to spend back there, in the place where it all began and the place where it all ended. The place that built me and broke me. The place where I turned from a girl into a woman, from a woman to a wife, and from a wife to a divorcee’.

I had 8 days to pass there, and where once 8 days would have seemed like a flash; in a moment of fear and dread, 8 days seemed like forever.  Wanting to return before I even got there, missing my family, my friends, my room, and my home before I event left; the tension and the fear made me suddenly realize how fast I have adjusted to my new life, to my new surroundings. How quickly I already felt at home in this new place.

Funny how so many things in life are taken for granted. How I didn’t even realize how quickly I fit straight back in. Knowing the circumstances of my return, and that it was not me who wanted to leave in the first place, I never thought I would enjoy myself as much as I do in my new life. I never thought I would fit quite so easily without skipping a beat. I never imagined myself falling straight on my feet, ready to run again.

But apparently all I needed was to go back to the place where it all began in order to realize I am in a much better place now. I am much more content. Much happier and relaxed.  They say that “one way to appreciate what you have is to imagine yourself without it.” I guess as much as I took being back home for granted, imagined it would never suit me, or satisfy me… I now realize I love being back. It doesn’t mean I am never nostalgic, or sad, regretful, or reminiscent of my past; but it means I am also coming to terms with the new place I am in, my new life, my new beginning.

Chasing The Future, She Stumbled Into Her Past

“Setback we face them every day.

Some cause us to stumble;

others bring us to our knees. 

 Each setback brings with it the opportunity to rise up,

to be stronger and better and braver than before”

The date is set, it is coming upon me, and ever since I’ve been in the gloomiest of moods. The closer it gets the heavier my heart feels, and the more nervous I am. I feel stuck again. Devastated. Uninspired. I’ve checked out, and yet feel restless even in my sleep. I wonder how much of a setback this will be. How will feel? And how much will it hurt?

But where would we be without struggle, without hardship, and pain? It’s easy to forget how much these moments teach and shape us. How different we would be without them. And it seems that everyone thinks I have grown so much from this. I just wish I was as strong as everyone thinks I am. I wish I was doing as good as everyone believes, or as good as I pretend. Fake it till you make it, right? Well I’ve been doing it, or at least trying. I’ve been shutting off my thoughts, pushing them deeper, ignoring them, I’ve been closing the faucets in the corner of my eyes, not allowing myself to cry, or feel vulnerable or hurt. I’ve been numbing the pain. No longer talking about it, or writing it down. Hoping that ignoring it will make it go away.

I’ve been told that all it takes is just the conscious choice to be in a good place, a choice to see the positive spin on things, to see the beauty that others see. So I’ve been pretending that I’ve moved on, that I’m alright. I’ve been showing interest in new men, in a new job, in my new life. But it’s all been a lie. I still feel everything I felt before. I am still attached to the life I left behind. I still miss being a wife, a partner, a lover, a friend. I still miss waking up together next to someone enfolded in his arms, I still miss cooking for two, and I still miss our regular outings, our friends, going to movies, holding hands. I miss that comfort that I had. All I really want is some comfort, and a way to calm the angry voice. All I really wish for is happiness. I’m not sure with whom but in general. I just want to find my place. To be happy again. To love and be loved in return.

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

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.

Behind the Mask

Behind this mask, behind the pretty face, and that beautifully innocent smile; behind the giggles and the gentle voice, behind the pretense of confidence and self-assurance; is a vulnerable girl, damaged, broken, hurt and lonely.

A girl, who craves attention, yearns for a hug and a passionate kiss. A girl who wants to be loved and knows that she still has so much more love in her to give. A girl who wants to wake up entangled in someone else’s arms. A girl who longs for the warmth of a man, his body engulfing mine. A girl who lacks patience because she wants it all and she wants it now.

And the more I want it, the more I realize that I am alone. Alone and lonely. Feelings of loneliness ambush me especially at night. While my days may be busy and full of laughter, my nights are sleepless, endless and lonesome. On those lonely nights thoughts, uncontrollable and unwanted, invade my mind and consume me leaving me sad, mad, even enraged. Sometimes those thoughts carry on into the daylight. It can happen suddenly and it always catches me off guard. Usually it happens when I’m alone, without my mask. When I allow myself to feel. The tears well up in my eyes and I just start crying. It could be in the car while I’m driving; suddenly an old tune on the radio reminds me of him. Sometimes it’s just an old couple walking together hand in hand; the vision of them fills me with envy and remorse of that future that I so wanted and am afraid I will never have. Sometimes it’s a pregnant lady or a baby laying there so sweet and silent in their stroller, eyes twinkling with laughter looking straight at me.

I know I should learn to love myself first, before I let someone else love me. I know I should learn to enjoy myself, to be independent and on my own. Yet still I can’t help but wonder, is this life better? Can I live with this loneliness? I was happy as part of a couple. I was happy with compromising. I was satisfied in my life. Content with my comfort. I didn’t ask for much more. Why did he have to take it away from me?

I want it back, that life. Not necessarily with him. But I want the comfort. Maybe it’s that little control freak in me that just wants to know what each day will bring. No surprises, no butterflies, no highs or lows. Just an easy peaceful feeling that comes with being comfortable. With knowing the man at my side. Knowing I don’t have to impress him, but he’ll still love me. Knowing how to make him happy. Knowing he will make me smile.

I want to shed the mask, without feeling vulnerable and exposed. I want to tear down the wall I built without getting hurt. I want to remove the pain that lies beneath. I want to move forward without regret of the past I once had, or the future I dreamed of.

Masking the Pain

She wipes away her tears and puts her mask on when the phone rings, telling the person on the other end of the line that everything is fine. I will not expose myself she thinks. I will not take off my mask and show the world the true me, the one locked inside.

Most of us wake up each morning and put on a mask. We blur our imperfections with makeup and we dress for the part we aim to play. The perfect disguise to shield us. A fake smile, a false laugh. We hide our flaws, tuck in our pain, and walk tall and proud pretending. We watch others around us and envy them for their seemingly perfect life. The couple walking down the street with their fingers entangled in each other, the skinny girl with the perfect skin, the rich business man with his fat wallet. They seem to have it all…

But do they really? Are they as happy as you think? Don’t let anyone fool you, behind that tough skin, lies a soft heart that was once broken. Behind that strong shield, the pretence of aloofness and indifference lies a hurricane of emotions. Lesson # 40: If We All Threw Our Problems in a Pile and Got a Look at Everyone Else’s, We’d Fight to Get Back Our Own. “Most of us are walking around blind to the gifts that we have been given until we see the problems others have endured”. Other people’s scars are no better than our own.  We are all broken, just in different ways. We have all loved and lost, we have all felt pain, we have all endured grief. But some of us manage to hide it better than others, masking the hurt and the pain. We may not be aware that behind the strong confident business man is a scared boy with fear of abandonment. Or behind the beautiful woman with her painted face, lies a lonely girl insecure of her own body.

Don’t be fooled into thinking someone else’s life is easier than yours, or that the grass is greener on the other side. Take a second and reflect on the things you’re grateful for. Learn to appreciate what you have before times makes you appreciate what you had. Imagine yourself without it, and then you’ll see how much you still have to be grateful for.

No Escaping You

I only thought about you once today. I never stopped.

Lying on my back I slowly wake up as the sun’s rays hit my face, shining brightly through the window. Suddenly I realize what day it is. I turn away from the sun light, shut my eyes tightly and try to forget. Maybe I can sleep the day away, let it skip me.

But it’s too late. Thoughts of you drift into my head and I try hard to remember the exact feeling I had last year as I woke up next to you. What did we do on this day? What were we feeling?

Conversations we had run through my mind. I see your face above me, smiling sweetly. For a moment I fall asleep again. In my dreams I feel your warmth and love. Nothing has changed, we are together. You’re lying next to me. My fingers entangled in your hair, and my leg on top of yours hugging your body close to me.

Then I wake up again and tears fill my eyes. Instead of thinking about the past, my thoughts now drift onto the future. How happy we could have been. I can still imagine us together. I can see us lying in our bed. I look around, everything is so familiar. The color of the walls, the design on our favorite bed sheets, the smell of your cologne wafting in the air, the sound of your voice, the touch of your skin.

I fall asleep again hoping not to plunge once more into the prison of my mind. I yearn to escape my thoughts. But there is no escaping you today.  Maybe by next year it won’t sting so hard, it won’t feel so real. Maybe then something in me will have changed. And your memory will be a distant one. A bitter-sweet memory that will have faded away.

Failure to Launch

After I called my friend to inform her that I unfortunately would not be flying back to her wedding our conversation became strained. It felt false and distant. Maybe it wasn’t and I was feeling things that weren’t really there. But with feelings of guilt overcoming me, I was emotional, mad at myself, and disappointed for having disappointed her.

As soon as I hung up the phone I cried. I cried because I couldn’t please her. I cried because I feel like I can never please everyone, or anyone for that matter. I cried because ultimately I cannot seem to please myself.

The small choices in life seem overwhelmingly difficult. I cannot seem to find my footing. Or maybe I just haven’t really tried hard enough yet. I don’t know what I want, so I’m not pushing myself in any direction. And by not pushing forward, once again I feel stuck. I know I’m my biggest critic, but it seems I have a lot to criticize.

On the one hand I seem to be treating this time as a vacation from life, a distraction from my thoughts, a hideout from my pain. I’ve only been here a month so what’s the rush?! But on the other hand I feel stressed for not having adapted yet to my new life, for not having already found a job (to be honest I haven’t even started looking) or a study, or preferably both, for not having started living the real world.

I feel failure breathing down my neck. Failure at choosing the career of my dreams, failure at keeping my marriage together, failure at reaching my goals, failure at dictating what those goals are, failure at making myself happy.

I know all the doors are open for me, but somehow I haven’t started stepping in any direction yet. No one to blame for that but myself, my own foolish doubts and my fear of further failure. I know the best things in life won’t come sorted out, organized and served on a silver platter, just waiting for me to set my foot forward. For some things you just need to work God damn hard. Some things are worth it.

Lesson #30: The Passage of Time Heals Almost Everything. Give Time Time

How many times have people tried to comfort us with the slogan: “It takes time to heal”. I know I’ve heard it plenty. And every time the only thing I can think of is: “…but how long?”

Yup this lesson is a lesson of patience. In this lesson we must learn that we cannot rush our wounds to heal, our hearts to mend, or our minds to let go. Some things just take time.

But before I came to the realization that times takes time, I definitely can attest to being guilty of trying to rush the process. It didn’t take long before I started dating again. Before I went out, danced, flirted, and gave men that look. It actually was even extremely short before I met my rebound, before I fell in lust, and before I found myself shattered yet again. I was a broken girl on a mission. Find my next victim. Search and conquer. Hunt down Mr. Right.

But not giving myself enough time to grieve my loss did not help me heal. I’ve said before that I feel like after taking 2 steps forward, I’ve taken 2 steps back. To that one of my readers commented saying that maybe I hadn’t fallen backwards, but rather hadn’t gotten as far ahead as I thought; adding that often instead of grieving we immerse ourselves in little distractions, thinking we’ve moved on. He was so right. Hastily rushing, jumping from one relationship to the next is exactly that, a distraction from feeling the pain, a distraction from grieving the loss, a distraction from healing.

So I’ve decided to take a breather. Pause and stop trying to rush forward. While I may have a biological clock ticking, I also have a heart that needs  to go through some stitching, mending and an extensive recovery.  So meanwhile, until I heal. Until I feel that I can open my heart again. Until I long once more for warmth and comfort from a man rather than my family. Until I yearn for passionate kisses. Until I unlock myself to the new world around me… I have sheltered myself from new pain to seep in. I have built up a wall around the shattered pieces of my heart.

And when the time is right maybe Mr. Right might find a way to chip at that wall and slowly tear it down. Or maybe time itself will find a way of melting the barriers that have been built, opening my heart up again to a fresh new start.