I Know, I Know…

Right in the middle of this whole, epic, soul searching situation, I just disappear.

I warn you, I can be flaky like that, lol.

But I SWEAR I had a good reason (this time).

I was almost homeless, y’all! Home. Less. Without home. Sleeping in my SUV using the dog as a pillow.

Not a good look for the kid.

So I had to handle that. And I did, never fear. I am no longer homeless, but rather in the possession of a rather cute apartment that I am currently in love with and dying to decorate. Granted, I will be too broke henceforth, now, and forever more to decorate it, but so long as I’m not Boxcar Kid-ing it, it is all good.

Expect many, MANY stories about the terrors of living alone. There are many. I have experienced them. And I moved in all of one week ago.

TERROR.

Circling back around to some semblance of sense, I have been thinking alot about a conversation I had a few weeks ago with Michael. I think, generally, he indulges my particular brand of crazy because, well, let’s face it most times it’s hilarious, but during what was most likely a light hearted conversation about family fails, we got on the subject of allowing people to be who they are. In a rare moment of sobriety clarity I said to him, “I have learned that people will be exactly who they are and I can’t change them, but I haven’t quite learned how to forgive them for not being what I need.”

Michael says, “Come on nah. You’re 26. It’s about time to learn that lesson.”

Hate when he’s right.

Sure, sure, he said it as nicely as blackberry messenger can allow one to come off without benefit of tone or tact. But he’s right. And it stung.

Once upon a time, I remember a friend calling me “Slayer of Everything that Moves” upon the dissolution of a friendship or relationship. It was really funny at the time, but when I started to think about it once I was sober, it’s really quite true. It usually takes me quite some time to decide that I am done with people in my life, but once I do, I am DONE. They are dead to me. Not moving. A distant mirage that I might recall for comedic effect or I might pretend never existed. It really just depends on my mood. But that is mostly because I don’t particularly thrive in the gray area.

I don’t know what to do with that friend who is no longer a friend because you can’t really trust them, but they a tree with deep roots in your history. I am never sure where to step with a lover I am no longer sleeping with who inquires about my day. I can’t handle that. I don’t know how. And in all honesty, I am not sure if I want to know how.

Not because these types of changes in relationships are particularly difficult to navigate. But rather because I am Slayer of Everything that Moves; I don’t want to be looking at a Something that use to be an Everything, being simultaneously reminded of all the good things we shared and all of the unique, intricate ways they hurt me. Rather, I want everything to STOP MOVING. So I can get up outta here.

Otherwise, I just don’t know where to put it.

Seemingly, superficially, this has worked for me up until this point. But I also recognize that there are people I can’t extract from my life, who still drive me crazy everyday and who, as Michael said, I would benefit greatly from learning to just allow them to be them, without that being in tangent to recalling how being them has meant for the injury of me.

I am gonna work on that. In the meantime though, I slay everything that moves.

That includes the varying collection of bugs I keep finding in my apartment abutting the woods. Wtf?!?!

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