well well well….

……said the three holes in the ground.

I probably shouldn’t write this because I am a half-bottle of wine in. I guess I just figured it is time again. Time to update. Why when I think all hope is lost…hope comes knocking up on my door again.…just to tease me.

It was dumb what I said to MR. KNIGHTLY. He wasn’t ready. He will never be ready. Somehow I am going to have to get him to talk–again. Because he doesn’t want to again–he is in complete avoidance of life. GREAT job MR.KNIGHTLY. Way to be yourself. gar. But you know what you, missed your chance with something. You could have fought for it. You could have been stronger. BUT you are not. So thus.

3/4 of a bottle in.

Anyway. Right when I gave up–or rather “saw the light” I got a message from CHEESEHEAD. CHEESEHEAD literally begging me to talk to him again. Asking me to forgive him. Forgive him? Forgive him for what? For being honest. NO WAY. I think CHEESEHEAD I am happy that you would like to be back in my life–and that you are going to take a chance when you are afraid. PLEASE do–because nobody else is going to.

Speaking of coming back moments. SHYBOY just texted me again after weeks TONIGHT. What the heck. Right now I just want to say leave me alone. Maybe if I do he will take the hint that he should have called–and not said he was going to call. Who does that? WHAT DOES HE WANT? I asked him and he teeters around the question. That is when I say. FINE that is what you are going to get–a teeter. Can I be a teeter.

whole bottle gone.

*burp*

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND,

I love seeing my family. My cousin just found out she is pregnant again. She doesn’t even want another kid. She doesn’t want it. Why doesn’t she? She has three beautiful girls. Why it is not fair. Where the hell are you?

My GPA told me not to get married that I have to “forget who I am.” My AUNT-M told me not to get married that “It reminded me of a Jail. That is why I joined a convent–I felt free-er that way.” My other Cousin is getting a divorce only after less than a year. My brother will be married in August. My mother tells me I should stay single to. However, everyone bothers me for children. Even people who I do not even know–holding their kids taunting me. Holding hands taunting me.

The thing is that’s why I didn’t get married in the first place. I knew it wasn’t right. BUT GOSH darn it I know you are out there and I know that you want to find me. DO you want to find me? It might help if you want any children.

yeah. so. get on it. dude.

Your future wife.

Mr. Knightly’s give in….staying in the 1%

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”-EMMA Jane Austen

We were as we always are. Close, talking, and being friends. We lost track of time sliding into each others arms deeper than we ever had before. My mind wouldn’t rest. My heart aching to share the thoughts I have had for months.

ME: I need to tell you something but I cannot find the words.

What are the words? Are there really words? Do I need to say it? Should I tell him? I go over and over in my head what I have to say. I re-write and edit. I re-write and edit. I settle. I re-write and edit. I decide to stay quiet and stay in his arms. I don’t want to loose them. He pulls me close.

MR.KNIGHTLY: shhhhh. *laughter*

You have no idea do you? Absolutely no clue whatsoever. What am I thinking? It doesn’t matter what I tell you right? It still cannot happen. Or…perhaps you do know and that is why you lightly shush me. You don’t want to know because it will make things awkward.

I sit up… move away from his arms. I can barely focus. I just want to look at his face. I want to know what his eyes are doing right now.

ME: I want to say something…but I think it will make this weird… I don’t want that….

MR.KNIGHTLY pulls me back to our cuddle session. I can hear his heart beating. He is holding me as close as he can. I wonder how he will react when my words cannot be held back by his ignoring. I think, I believe, he thinks that I am worried how he might feel. That–I am not going to express my own feelings…but out him.

MR.KNIGHTLY: *chuckle*

ME: What?

MR.KNIGHTLY: Just thinking about the past… how things change. how certain things are remembered at certain times…. I dunno…

ME: Like what…

MR.KNIGHTLY: you know that one night at Jarods….

I know the night. I know the moment. I think of that moment often enough. The one where I knew if I wasn’t careful I could indeed fall in love with this man.

ME: what night?

MR.KNIGHTLY: the one…where we had that silly marker fight…

ME: yeah…*smile* What about it?

MR.KNIGHTLY: Just thinking about how your face was …how you looked at me and suddenly had to leave….

We talked for a while then where we had been in our lives. I learned for the first time that MR.KNIGHTLY had been engaged at one time. I did not know we had that in common. Surprised indeed. He let me into more of his world. A thing he often stops sharing once things get to intimate. I let him into mine–more.

My mind goes back to what I want to share with him today. NOW. What do I have to say now? I keep thinking–If I could just kiss those lips. If I could just let go for a moment. I don’t want my indecision to affect our friendship. I don’t want my judgment to leave him broken hear-ted. I must be honest with myself. I am curious. What would it be like just to let go. Let go and live. YOLO (ugh) stares me in the face.

MR.KNIGHTLY: Just say it.

ME: I cannot. I do not have my words.

MR.KNIGHTLY: not often does that happen.

ME: ha. thanks.

Yes. That is what I should say. I am curious. I am 1/2 curious 1/2 attraction. I should be honest. I have no idea what I want. I know that you don’t want to ruin our friendship–neither to I.

ME: Sometimes….

MR.KNIGHTLY: ….

ME: Sometimes…

MR.KNIGHTLY:….

ME: I just wonder… well…. I am half curious… and half…well attracted… …pulled… in curiosity?…to you…um..sometimes…. I just want to kiss you.

MR.KNIGHTLY: ….

He did not see that coming. Oh shit. Why didn’t I just hold it in. Dammit. Why didn’t I just wait for him to out it. Would he have….? No… He would not have said it. He would have lived in internal pain. (if that is what he was even THINKING…)What if it’s all n my head he thinks the same? Ah…Crap.

Then he pulls me closer and I cannot see his eyes. It is late. To late for us to still be sitting on the couch. To late for him to drive home. His voice is in my ear.

MR.KNIGHTLY: me to

ME….

MR.KNIGHTLY: I don’t want to mess up our friendship. I don’t want to ruin what we have.

ME: I don’t want to break any hearts.

MR.KNIGHTLY: I think it would be the other way around…

ME:… *a look*

Still holding me tight; we lie there on the couch, understanding the truth and the boundaries. There are some things that do not have to be said. Then, there are things that are said in silence louder than anything I could have ever imagined.

 

Talk Darcy to me….

Ugh.

The more I resist, the more I make excuses, the more it gets worse. Flirting is like a “tick” I sometimes cannot control. Did I just tell MR.KNIGHTLY to “talk Darcy to me”? I did.

Oh damn………….. in my head…. my strange and confused head.

(my pep talk to myself with my good angel)

look YOU. nothing is going to happen–nor should it happen. You are not well suited for each other. This attraction you have is due to the sheer fact that you have been friends for so long. This does not mean that you need to cuddle up next to him on a cold snowy night. (Even though that’s what you are thinking about right now…STOP it STOP THAT!)

(Interrupting Bad BAD Angel…) You remember that head over heals feeling you had for BEST-FRIEND back in high school. It’s like that, you know it is…the more you resist the stronger it gets. MR.KNIGHTLY isn’t going to do anything about it either–except sit in dam denial–AND you know I don’t mean the river. Just get him alone and kiss the fool. You might as well–what have you got to lose?

—UHM Hello?! A friendship of complete awesome-ness and trust. A platonic cuddle buddy. Your dignity. The fact that there are certain compatibility elements that you decided NOT to bend for. How about that?

Please, you know you are friends with everyone you have dated or NOT dated… give me a break. Even if it doesn’t work you’ll make it better again–you always do. Doesn’t it feel amazing already? AND he doesn’t know about relationships that aren’t crazy so—

stop interrupting me… LISTEN. NO. Do you want to tarnish something that is so genuine? Do you really want to take that chance. It’s true he hasn’t been in so good relationships. AND he has a temper… he can get one with you… even though he never has… it could happen.

SHUT UP. listen to your heart.

yeah… that sounds logical. not.

All I am saying is take a chance. You don’t want to miss the chance do you?

I don’t want to break any hearts.

….Neither does he.

typical.

Today’s News:

SHYBOY stopped texting. mixed emotions to follow.

Typical.

CHEESEHEAD shares a secret. He is seeing someone. It’s not me.

Typical.

MR. KNIGHTLY remains distant with a side of “remember that one time?”

Typical.

AND finally…. How the phrase “just one of the guys” has recently made my insides scream.

I think I am afraid of girls. It’s not that I don’t like them, don’t trust them, or even don’t connect with them. I do. In fact sometimes really well. However, keeping that long-term friendship going beyond any commitment we already share (like a class, rehearsal, or a meeting) is so difficult for me. I don’t get it.

The other day I was supposed to go out with the guys. BOUNCER, FRIEND-J, and MR.KNIGHTLY. They are late night people but by 10:30pm they still hadn’t decided on any sort of solid plan. Reality set in for me that I was going out with a bunch of guys again.

BOUNCER: FRIEND-C says to text FRIEND-S.

ME: Why? We haven’t even made plans yet? What do you want me to say?

*panic*

BOUNCER: I dunno….just thought you’d like some girl company.

ME: oh.. right.

No. No I don’t want “girl” company. Why? If I invite her then I feel like I have to stay by her, make sure she is okay, watch for pretator-ial men. I don’t want to do that. I know . I know. I don’t HAVE to–but I DO. I don’t want her to be like ” So-N-So just ditches girls to hang out with the guys” or “let’s go in the corner and talk about the men–not TO the men.” Oh man, you are thinking this isn’t everyone. I know it isn’t. I know it’s just a made up sanction in my brain.

I swear that’s what did it, him telling me to text some girls. (Plus, the fact that I know that’s an ulterior motive–it’s not that he wants me more comfortable, he wants some GIRLS…I am not a girl… I am “just one of the guys.”) I MUST be afraid of them. Will they like me? Will they hate me? Why can’t I walk up to a girl and make a friend like I walk up to every man I see if he looks interesting? It’s not like I am attracted to girls….you know… like THAT. But I can’t. I just can’t. I feel weird calling girls . I shouldn’t say girls as a blanket statement—I should just say it takes me a REALLY long time to get to know a girl enough…to really talk. Wherein, for some odd reason I only take about half that time with the male population.

Its stranger still because I am one of those people who thinks a boys brain and a girls brain think very differently. I think we have different needs, wants desires. (obviously we all do–boy or girl) However, I believe in the masculine and the feminine. Sometimes there is no doubt in my mind that I am a female–I want babies, I cry, I coo at cute toddlers and I LOVE chocolate. Then there are other times where I question my femininity–like that I would rather have a guys night out than a girls. I would rather shoot pool, drink whiskey, and watch The Walking Dead over TLC and a loud gossip fest.

I was supposed to go out with the guys this Friday, that is what I am trying to get to here. I was supposed to go out drink some beers, smooze with some strangers, maybe play some darts, and probably pass out on a floor after teasing FRIEND-J about his late night tator tot baking.

Classy I know.

The only problem was–by the time the guys wanted to go out I felt my femininity creep in. Maybe they just hang out with me because they feel sorry for me? I felt my heart start to cringe at THE question I usually got.  (assuming we would meet new people).

STRANGER: Hi–I’m SO-N-SO

ME: Hi I’m _____

STRANGER: So one of these guys your BF?

ME: No…

STRANGER: oh.

MR.KNIGHTLY: Oh…no she’s just one of the GUYS. *smile*

nooooooooooooooooooooo. but yes. *sigh*

I told them I had lost my whim to go out–and they probably didn’t want me around anyway because I was bumming. Of course they asked me the next day what happened.

BOUNCER: Why exactly did you stay home anyway?

ME: you don’t want to know

MR.KNIGHTLY: Yeah what did I do?

BOUNCER/FRIEND-J: *Laughing at Knightly*

ME: thanks….. no… I was just feeling depressed, lonely… didn’t want to bring you guys down and all with my girlishness.

*Silence*

MR.KNIGHTLY: Why?

Because I am sick of being part of the guys and not having a guy? Because I have no girlfriends to talk about you guys with… I am not sure. Because CHEESEHEAD told me he was seeing someone? Because even though I had lost interest in SHYGUY it still kind of sucks he gave up so easily? because if I have to listen to one more person think I am a “guy” I might just scream. Because I know I am “just one of the guys” and part of me loves it…but not the part of me that is around now. Do you know what I mean? Oh yeah…and also MR.KNIGHTLY…the other night when I noticed your eyes out loud that wasn’t the first time. The other day when I said we were BFF’s I meant it. Also, yesterday when you reminded me of a time seven years ago ….you know when we were goofing around–I dunno having some sort of marker battle…I lied when I said I didn’t remember… I lied when I said I didn’t remember suddenly standing up and having to go… I remember that moment. The first denial.  I was just surprised you remembered.I dunno…I am just ready for something to happen—I wish I wasn’t so stubborn and picky with the men I date sometimes. I am frustrated about it being slim pickens’ again…..

ME: Just ready for something to happen–done being single…ya know.

I know–It will happen when it happens….but really…..

P.S.

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND.

W.T.H. last night sucked. tonight’s not much better. Get here. ASAP.

love. ME.

Just Say No….

Last night I went to see a band play. I was rather annoyed because MR.KNIGHTLY left me hanging for about an hour for a ride. I ended up going without him though and arriving about an hour late. FRIEND-S was waiting inside but before I even got out of my car, before I even got my door open all the way, one foot out the door—on the ground.

DRUNK-LADY: Will you drive me somewhere?

ME: What? Hi…

DRUNK-LADY: please, will you drive me somewhere? I’ll have to walk!  *pouty face*

ME: uhh…no…

DRUNK-LADY: please please please will you drive me.

(at this point she is hanging on my door and stopping me from getting out. She is a smaller women and I can tell she is blitzed out of her mind. ARG. My mind thinks about her safety walking alone down the street. I think about her being cold and getting sick or hurt. AND then I think about doing the right thing…what is the right thing? I cannot say no….)

ME: Okay. Get in.

DRUNK-LADY: oh thank you thank you I love you…you are amazing!

ME: My name is _______ by the way….

DRUNK-LADY: I am so drunk.

ME: really…couldn’t tell.

DRUNK-LADY: Cindy—my name is Cindy.

ME: If I take you to this place will you have a ride home? Will you get there safe?

DRUNK-LADY: *starts to cry* My husband is an asshole.

ME: *nervous* uh… was he there? Why are you with him if he is an ass?

DRUNK-LADY: no he wasn’t there he through all my things outside because I wanted to drink tonight.

(Great I picked up an alcoholic—because I’ve worked with alcoholics and this is what they sound like.)

DRUNK-LADY: No…no…I’ll find a ride home. I will find SOMEONE to take me home.

(me thinking oh God…please let me be taking her somewhere away from her own car)

DRUNK-LADY: Do you have 2$ I could borrow.

ME: no.

(I have 20$ in my pocket—but it’s costing me 5$ to drive you across town…chica… AND thinking she’ll use it for more booze of COURSE I SAY NO!)

DRUNK-LADY: Really not even 2$?

ME: no… no cash.

DRUNK-LADY: He threw all my stuff outside because I wanted to drink tonight. Don’t marry a man like mine—he’s such an asshole.

ME: ah.

DRUNK-LADY: Thank you for driving me you are beautiful. I love you.

ME: You would say that I am driving you.

DRUNK-LADY: Do you know you are beautiful?

ME: thanks.

DRUNK-LADY: You got a dollar?

ME: No.

DRUNK-LADY: you don’t even got a dollar?

ME: No I don’t I have money for me to see the band that I wanted to go see—before you came to my car door.

DRUNK-LADY: oh…it’s like that.

*REALLY????*

ME: yes.

I went 30 minutes out of my way to drive her. When she got out I checked for my wallet and my phone—I also looked around for other things in my car that she could have taken. When I got back, the bouncer, my friend said, I kicked her out. HA. I wish I had made it inside. I think I could have said no to her. Maybe. Hey, I said no to the dollar right?

I complicate my life sometimes. It isn’t the first time I have offered a complete stranger a ride. However, usually I have a pretty strong intuition about people. She was just a sad drunk. Even so—what would Jesus do? Perhaps he wouldn’t be out late on a school night to see a band. BUT if he was would he forgo being on time to give a woman a ride across town even though he didn’t know her?  I wonder if he would have given her the money? I don’t think Jesus would be an enabler. However, is driving someone across town enabling? At what point are you doing too much for someone? At what point are you not doing enough? A question I struggle with almost daily.

The band started late anyway. Didn’t even start till 10 minutes after I got there.  Nothing lost–except maybe DRUNK-LADY’S self control.

ohh MISS.BATES please do shhhhh

 

MR.KNIGHTLY has the most annoyingly mean sister in the world. She never stops talking and insulting along her path. So mean and insulting that I almost called her MS.BINGLEY instead of MISS.BATES. However, she is annoying and vain, before she is mean so I choose the name BATES. If you know anything about Jane Austen’s Emma, MISS.BATES is the annoying friend of Emma Woodhouse that has story after story about her daughter Jane Fairfax—who is amazing in all ways. Blah blah blah….bleeeeh

Emma admonishes MISS.BATES in front of MR.KNIGHTLY, and her other friends…. and the famous line “Badly done Emma, Badly done indeed” is born from MR.KNIGHTLY’s lips. This is a line that has stuck with me throughout my constant conflict with my MISS.BATES/MS.BINGLEY combo. MISS.BATES has always been …well…to loud, to obnoxious, and to mean for me. I have never warmed up to her (at least more than room temperature.) What usually ends up happening when I speak with her is a couple of things: 1. She talks without coming up for air 2. She insults me or undercuts me in a “playful” fashion (or at least she thinks) 3. She insults MR.KNIGHTLY 4. She says something like “girls don’t like me”

Well MISS.BATES this is why “girls don’t like you.”

Upon entering the dance hall MR.KNIGHTLY spots Emma dancing. He comes up behind her and pokes her in the side. Frightened because she doesn’t know what strange man was touching her side Emma spins around quickly. There behind her is MR.KNIGHTLY smiling his big welcome. Emma happy that some weirdo isn’t feeling her up grabs KNIGHTLY in a full hug.

EMMA: Hi

MR.KNIGHTLY: hey

MISS.BATES: wow, its not typical that we see you all covered up—in a long skirt…

*pause*   Emma gathering her wits—already mad at what MISS.BATES has done sneakily behind her back broils. She does not think slow—her words are quick and biting.

EMMA: nice to see you to MISS.BATES

Then Emma walks away and continues to dance (but mostly seethes).

I just don’t understand why MISS.BATES thinks that she can joke with me like we are BFF’s when she doesn’t know me at all. She has been around me for 7 years—and she doesn’t know anything about me. She assumes that I am some sort of hussy that her brother MR.KNIGHTLY hangs out with. Who assumes such things?

I have deduced the reason that she probably doesn’t like me because I stand up for MR.KNIGHTLY when they are arguing, when she puts him down—and always. We are friends. We are loyal. Just because you are MR.KNIGHTLY’s sister/or a girl doesn’t mean I will automatically take your side.

I didn’t have this much rage in me until a couple of days ago. Until a couple of days ago MISS.BATES was simply MISS.BATES—annoying, talks a lot, and really noisy. Until recently I didn’t think that she truly hated me, but that her undercuts and mean comments were just a part of her personality. I thought perhaps she just didn’t understand how to be nice because she lives with like 3 brothers. I gave her excuses. I gave her reasons.

OH Should I have done that??!!

MR.KNIGHTLY tells me that she purposefully send the strange man (HOO-RAH) back to break us up because she thought something else was going on.

REALLY??!!

Who the heck does she think she is—and WHAT per say is wrong with me, that she has to send some gym-school drop out to grind up on me like loose change in a pocket. Why did MR.KNIGHTLY tell me this? Ugh.

COUSIN told me don’t mess with MR.KNIGHTLY until he stops hanging out with his overly possessive sister. I laughed. I flipped my hand in a carefree fashion. I listened to the blood pumping to my heart.

While my attraction for KNIGHTLY has not gone away—I see now what COUSIN meant. He enables her. He drives her around to work, she hangs with his friends, and they get involved in the same activities. Not little miss independent. More like miss dependent. It is quite frankly ridiculous—and I have jokingly come to call him a taxi driver. Is it fair that he has to take care of his sister like it actually is the 1800’s—while she still acts like she IS independent?

After the short interaction that happened last night—where I politely said “good to see you to.” I felt for the first time that I couldn’t even be around MR.KNIGHTLY because of the protective-annoying-bitch shield of MISS.BATES. ugh.  Also, I didn’t want to be even around her anymore. Usually, I am more than capable ignoring comments (unless they are direct insults). And I am always able to “be nice.” I don’t like the thought though, of being that girl. The one that smiles to your face and grinds her teeth when you leave… that would be “badly done Emma, badly done indeed.”

Soooo, MR.KNIGHTLY can you please tell the MISS.BATE-BINGLEY that she is badly done already—and shut your taxi door on her foot?

blurrr

As we dance like no one is watching us.

Me: I am sorry I’ve blurred the lines lately

MR.KNIGHTLY: what?

ME: you know what I mean

MR.KNIGHTLY: *smile* yeah….

Rudely interrupted…

Another gentleman (we’ll call him DOESNT-GO-TO-GYM-ANYMORE-MAN-BUT-ACTS-LIKE-IT) or HOO-RAH…. He tried to grope my ass…and grind on me. I politely pushed him into an awkward Jr.High dance position (because I didn’t know who the heck he was) Immediately he is put off because I won’t let him run his slimy ass hands all over my body. DUH. Meanwhile Mr. Knightly walks away…. not willing to watch or save me…

Later on….

ME: next time that happens—CUT IN…

MR.KNIGHTLY: last time I saved you, you got upset.

ME: no–last time you “saved me” I didn’t need saving…

After a while–kinda quiet. I can tell something is on his mind

ME: whats wrong? Holding up the 1% over there ?

MR.KNIGHTLY: ehh..

ME: Yeah me neither…more like .5%….

MR.KNIGHTLY (looking down at me contented): It is constant…you know…

Then there is me…wondering what the heck he means…and remembering he has had enough to drink. What is constant? Why are you looking at me like that? So we walk home….

Then I wake up.