Follow Me On Facebook!

It’s nothing new, not a shiny new page or anything. Since I’m not posting a lot of other things, I’m using my Facebook author page to share links to whatever entries I make here.

You can find the page at https://www.facebook.com/LunaDragonLit/

Like my page, and then leave a comment telling me what you’d like to see me post. I might share whatever music video has my attention, or an article that I found interesting and might discuss in a future blog entry. I might even promote other WordPress bloggers who follow me, because I’ve seen some amazing blogs that have come up in my list of followers.

More than that, I want to chat with YOU! What has interested YOU over the course of the day? What is currently motivating YOU, or what dream are you chasing after? What is a challenge you’re currently facing?

Ascension Of Luna is about making a comeback, realizing that rock bottom isn’t far away but never wanting to face that. It’s not just about my life, though I happen to tell things from my perspective. I’m being followed by interesting and amazing people, and I would love to interact with all of you!

Hope to see you on Facebook!

Advertisements
This entry was posted on March 21, 2017, in Uncategorized. Leave a comment

The Dystopian Alternate Universes Often Go Unmentioned

There are some who believe in multiple universes, who envision the world with a slight change and suggest that the world exists in some way. The difference can be something as major as a different world leader in office, or something as seemingly insignificant as answering a phone call when you’re trying to get out the door to be someplace else. Maybe the South won the Civil War, maybe the Nazis took over or maybe Hitler never rose to power. Maybe Americans willingly sacrificed their rights to own guns because it was widely believed they weren’t needed, or maybe the gun-toting Americans rose up and fought to bring about a rebirth of their country. There are literally infinite possibilities for alternate worlds.

I’ve noticed one thing about the mention of alternate worlds. It’s always one pivotal event that changes everything, but nothing is ever discussed about how that world got to that pivotal moment or even what happened after that. Mind you, the end result is usually utopian in nature, because it seems as if no one really wants to think of how we could wind up in a dystopian society. And yes, it seems as if the alternate world centers around something large-scale, instead of assuming that there is an alternate world where everything is the same except that moment when you decided to hold the elevator for someone that you never saw again anyway.

With that said, imagine yourself in a world where you had a crush on a person, but instead of the real ending where it wasn’t to be, imagine you had a chance to date that person, and you did. Now ask yourself, if things hadn’t ended like they actually ended, but you actually got to date and become this person’s significant other, would your life be any better today or would it be worse off?

This entry has been in my head for a week or so, and it’s been anticipated by at least one reader. Fans of schadenfreude, rejoice! I hope I don’t disappoint!

The downside of letting entries occupy space in my head for extended periods of time means I don’t have the best recollection of conversations that are necessary to include, as a means of detailing how I acquired information in my life. But there was a conversation with J, which shouldn’t be a surprise because I occupy space in his house and pay him rent. And this was a wonderful conversation I had while crying, though I don’t remember why I was crying, I just remember it was leading up to or during that special time of the month that made me a bit more emotional than just having Pisces as my ascendant sign (yes, I am astrologically blessed, it is in the stars that I am to be an emotional wreck in life). So it was during this tear-soaked conversation that J said the words, “I had considered dating you.”

For those of you in the back who just snuck in, I was into J back in 2011 when I first started hanging out with him, over two years since we had worked together before I left that job. But I was angry about events in life that he was linked to (not directly, but more like six degrees of separation, where he was only separated by two degrees), and I kinda slapped his face, though not hard, just enough to get his attention. He asked that I leave his house immediately, and I did and thought I’d never look back. And now, of course, I live with him because that’s where life has taken me.

So of course I’ve been dwelling on all of that. He considered dating me, before I had slapped him. Why did I not care about slapping him, if I had a crush on him? Because I thought he just wanted to fool around, but I wanted to be in a relationship with someone again.

Had I known he wanted to date me, would I have still hit him? This feels like the major question to ask myself, and yet when I do, it feels like I’m weighing greed against my own guilt. Would I have still robbed the bank if I knew I was going to win the lottery? Well damn, who would have guessed it? Maybe you see the third outcome, which would have been to walk away and not hit him, and while it doesn’t guarantee absolute success, it comes with far less remorse. But sure, if I thought I could have had what I wanted, I would have refrained. I don’t quite remember what I felt back then, but it was as if I didn’t care what the outcome was, I didn’t think he was going to date me and so I no longer cared what he thought of me. I wanted to get away from the situation I was in, that he was linked to. Now I don’t even remember if it felt liberating or if it hurt to leave him behind like that.

After parting ways, I became closer friends with an acquaintance I made a few months prior. I trusted this person with details about my life at that time, and they seemed to care about me and hold me in high esteem. After my ex fiancé ended our relationship and I was scrambling to figure out what my next move was to be, I trusted this friend when I was told there was a rent-free trailer home in the near future that I could live in. The trailer home existed, but it needed a lot of work which wasn’t being done in a timely fashion. Worst of all, my brand new furniture and mattress, along with some heirloom furniture, were all left out in the elements to get ruined during this time. So I think to myself, if J and I started dating back then, I wouldn’t have trusted this person with my life or with other things that I couldn’t easily replace.

It was with my time spent with the untrustworthy friend that I went to a convention in New Jersey and met Pete. Okay, Pete is cool, I have nothing against Pete. We didn’t exactly date, we weren’t exactly in a relationship so to speak, but I can’t say more than that because there are things I haven’t explained about myself. But Pete and I had a bad day together, which came after I was building up frustration towards him because my concerns hadn’t been addressed and taken care of. But it was because of that bad day that I ended up meeting my ex fiancé. So, sure, if J and I started dating, I wouldn’t have met Pete, but Pete is one thing I actually don’t regret.

However, my time with the untrustworthy friend caused me to meet Pete, which in turn caused me to meet my now ex fiancé. And I think to myself, if I had nipped that bud, I would have never left for New Jersey, I might have stayed in Syracuse this whole time, and I’d probably have more of my inheritance left. I might still be working for Wegmans, though I might have quit working after I reached my five-year anniversary and pursued something with a higher pay elsewhere. Who knows, I might have just taken a couple of weeks off to go to Japan, since I would have had the money and a stable living space in Syracuse (assuming, of course, that my Mom’s passing forced me to move in with J if I wasn’t already living with him).

That’s assuming, of course, that J and I had a relationship that lasted up to my Mom’s passing. I’d like to think that a year or two with him would have been enough, that if it all ended, I could say that it happened, that a chance was taken. After that, if he dated anyone else, I probably wouldn’t mind so much. At that point, I’d know I really wasn’t the right one.

That’s not to say that we would definitely part ways amicably. Maybe he would emotionally wound me to the point where I stopped talking about it, only to resent him more strongly as time passed. Perhaps I would be the toxic, abusive partner, possibly just making myself seem like a victim to coerce him into always feeling like I need his kindness. It’s actually something I fear, becoming the toxic partner, so I’m rather quick to add that my feelings are my own and they’re my responsibility to deal with them. I abhor the feeling that I’m ruining a good mood when I can’t share in that good mood, because I’d rather not bring people down. But who knows, maybe my inability to always be chipper and cheerful would be the reason why things ended, because I had stopped being fun and felt it necessary to be serious for a moment.

But in an alternate universe, I didn’t hit him, and we dated, and the things that are affecting me now had never happened because circumstances prevented them from happening. The things that mean so much now are the result of the smallest events from back then. I was a foolish 26-year-old, now I’m a 33-year-old who sees one event, one seemingly insignificant choice as being the moment that I lost something I’ve been wanting for so long.

Pardon my self-loathing, but I am responsible for all the things I wish had never happened to me, I caused myself to not get what I wanted, and I have to live with the remorse.

In an alternate world, well, maybe it would all be different somehow.

Logan Paul and Hamada, or What Not To Do In Japan?

So the month is drawing to a close, and before it’s February, I do want to get an entry out that deals with something other than just what’s going on with my life.

First up is the Logan Paul scandal. If you haven’t heard or you actually need to be reminded, this kid named Logan Paul went to Japan and recorded a few videos for his YouTube channel, one of which took place in the “suicide forest” where he went out of bounds and happened to find the hanging body of someone who successfully managed to commit suicide. Sounds like no big deal, right? Well, he was making light of the whole thing, and as it was posted to YouTube, he had no respect for the person who took their own life nor did he have any respect for that person’s friends and family who may have been affected by having to see that. There are other videos of Logan Paul around Japan, where he has a good time but at the cost of being disrespectful to those around him.

If you’re new to my blog, you might not be aware that I want to go to Japan someday. People like Logan Paul would ruin the opportunity for me to do so. A major aspect of Japan’s history involves them being closed off to much of the rest of the world, not allowing foreigners or foreign influence in the country. Although they’ve opened up, they’ve accepted people from other countries and have welcomed parts of other cultures, there are still Japanese people who don’t approve of outside influences, mixed dating, and the like. Japanese people also try to maintain harmony and respect towards each other and their environment. So if you have a foreign kid come in, and he acts like a ten-year-old whose parents think it’s fine to not keep an eye on him, then it’s going to make people upset. Worst case scenario, they make things more difficult, if not impossible, for a foreigner to enter the country or stay for an extended period of time.

It really irks me to know there are people who go to other countries and expect that it’s okay to act like they’re in their home country. It wouldn’t surprise me if those same people see a foreigner in their home country and expect them to act like they’re not a foreigner, especially if a foreigner comes to America and Americans start to dictate what is considered “American.” But I digress, just a bit.

Commentary aside, Logan Paul’s actions weren’t even acceptable by my American standards. I say “my American standards,” because we have people over here who insist that “boys will be boys” and probably wouldn’t hold him accountable for his behavior if he did the same things over here. I care more about what happens as a result of his actions in regards to how the Japanese people will react, though I’ve heard he has lost a lot of support  and YouTube stepped up after people petitioned for action to be taken. Regardless of whether or not you can view his videos, there are others out there who were either influenced by him or have the same mentality, not to mention that Logan Paul himself is still out there somewhere, and they could ruin things for those of us who would have far more respect.

My next issue I wanted to bring up was about Hamada. I’ve previously mentioned that I’m a fan of Downtown and the Gaki No Tsukai series. Despite having the ability, I did not watch the latest No Laughing Batsu challenge when it streamed on New Year’s. I didn’t find out what happened until my Facebook feed was covered with articles about Hamada, the round-faced member of Downtown who’s often compared to a chimpanzee, doing blackface as part of his costume.

Personally, blackface doesn’t offend me, and I’m about as white as fallen snow. Does that make it right? Does that mean it’s acceptable? Probably not. In America, we have a history against people of darker skin tones, so blackface is offensive to anyone with any compassion towards non-white people. Japan, however, doesn’t have our history of slavery, discrimination and segregation, and it seems like it’s just another skin color to them, that it’s another version of non-Asian or foreigner to them (I could very well be wrong, which is why I said it seems that way).

But Hamada wasn’t just dressing up as a random black person, he wasn’t trying to be a caricature of someone of African descent. He was basically doing cosplay of Axel Foley, the lead character of the Beverly Hills Cop movies. In my opinion, if there was one person to ask about whether or not it was offensive to dress up like that, I would say that Eddie Murphy should be asked, as he is known for playing the character Axel Foley. Should he have just been an Asian Axel Foley, and not done the blackface? Or was it necessary to be more accurate about the character? Despite the character of Axel Foley being iconic in a sense, should they have chosen a different American cop from the movies?

Honestly, it’s not for me to judge, because it doesn’t affect me. “Yes it does!” you may cry out. Well, if I sit here and say how offensive the act was, there will be someone who will say it was just for the sake of comedy but not as a means of insulting the character or anyone who shares his traits. If I say it’s not offensive, whether it’s just that it doesn’t offend me or that it’s not offensive to Japanese people, then I will get someone who will tell me exactly why and how it’s offensive and why I should be bothered. I won’t do blackface, I’m not one for dressing up like that, and I can’t really stop anyone from doing blackface if they’re going to do it anyway.

The best I can do is just educate anyone reading, to be mindful of your actions and how it affects others. Not everything you do will bother people; some will care, others won’t. What’s fun for you may negatively affect others. I’m not saying that you won’t ever bother people by being more mindful, or that the right choice will be obvious, but just putting forth the effort will be worthwhile.

 

Girlfriend Litmus Test

I loosely decided upon a New Year’s resolution for this year. I decided I was going to finish one of the stories I’ve already started writing. I already have an idea of what parts I’m going to rewrite. The one major issue I actually have is finding the time to work on it, though I did come up with a solution to that.

I should back up a few weeks. J and I were returning from our weekly grocery shopping excursion, and I don’t even know how the topic came up, but he asked me what I’d want to do in life. If I said anything along the lines of making sure I could financially support myself, he rejected that idea, asking what would make me happy and fulfilled. I didn’t want to mention writing, because it’s not supporting me financially in any way right now, so I can’t give up my actual job in pursuit of something that might never be able to support me. But finally I did mention it to him, that I had two started stories on my computer.

That was the last time my writing was mentioned, but it stayed on my mind. I thought about what I had written so far, how I wanted to change or improve what was there. I contemplated making an outline or a chart or something of how I wanted the story to go, or writing up profiles of my characters so I had a certain set of rules for myself to follow. I bought the book There’s Something I Want To Tell You by Yuta Aoki, which is a compilation of real stories about one Japanese partner and one foreign partner, because I figured I could use it as research if not just for my own personal amusement.

As December, and thus the year as well, drew to a close, I became more certain that I was going to get back to writing, to finishing that story.

Between Christmas and New Year’s, I asked J about being in a relationship, to which he restated for the second or third time that he didn’t see me romantically. After everything, I needed to hear that once more.

The next time we went for groceries, I brought up the time when he couldn’t keep his hands off me for just over a week after I brought home a coworker’s phone number. “I don’t want to bring home some guy’s phone number just to see if you’d do that again,” I told him, on the verge of tears.

“Well then,” he replied. “Don’t.”

But how am I supposed to take that? For someone who says he’s been straightforward with his words, that still left me to wonder what he meant, since he didn’t say anything else after that. Don’t bring home any more phone numbers from other guys? Don’t try to see if you can get that reaction out of me? So do I not try to progress my romantic life, or is it just about testing him because it won’t work?

Things got tense on New Year’s Eve. I’d try to do the right thing or be helpful in some way, which was actually helpful, but in the process I’d somehow manage to almost make a mess, or put something in the wrong place. My confidence shaken, I started feeling like it would be better if I just didn’t try doing nice things. But I was teasing J about how I wouldn’t be able to put something in a certain spot, or another spot, or another spot… basically exaggerating how particular he can be and how things get moved around so much that I can’t guarantee that I’d be able to set something where I think it should go. It hit a nerve and flared up his temper. I picked up my stuff, put away food and put utensils in the sink, and told him I was going to spend the rest of the evening in my room. I was shaken to where I felt it would just be better if I didn’t bother him anymore that night. Perhaps he calmed down because I didn’t escalate things, that I was going to retreat, because he said he was enjoying my company. It was enough to make me change my mind about going upstairs, but I wasn’t back to the level of fun that I was before.

Midnight rolled around, which meant first kiss of the new year. I tried to say that I’d only do the first kiss of the new year with someone I was involved with, but that didn’t really deter J. So now I can’t help but feel like that kiss was meaningless, at least for this year.

If there is one thing I’ve changed, it’s that I stopped washing his travel coffee mug and lunch container. I’ve washed it maybe once or twice this month so far, but otherwise I don’t get the same feeling from doing it anymore. When I started, it was like, “teeheehee, he’ll wake up and look for it, and realize it’s been cleaned, and it will make him smile that morning because I’ve made his life a tiny bit easier!” Now he’s noticing that it’s not getting cleaned, but I started prioritizing what I want or need to do for me. Now it seems like he’s expecting it, and I blame myself for even starting to do it. Now it’s not as much fun for me, and I don’t know if it’s because he started expecting me to do it, or because I’ve started to feel like it’s meaningless.

I suppose everything that’s happened here these past few months could be taken as a girlfriend litmus test of sorts. Did she laugh at that comedian who I think is hysterical? Nope, not a girlfriend. How well did she bake or cook, especially compared to previous girlfriends? Nope, not a girlfriend. Does she enjoy that show I said she should watch? She didn’t react as I thought she should react to it, so nope, not a girlfriend.

He enjoys spending time with me, he likes when I do things with him and for him, it’s not just a matter of letting me carry out my life however I want to in the moment. But I can’t say to people, “I’m the title short of being his girlfriend,” because the truth is, if he actually wanted me as such, if he ever saw me romantically, then I’d already be his girlfriend. To me, he acts more like a boyfriend than anything else, or maybe I have some lousy friends.

So that’s it, then. We spend our time acting less like we’re just two people living together, and more like we’re two people making a life together. But I’m like the snow outside, I can be pretty to look at if you see the untouched parts of me, but otherwise I just make things a mess and you probably can’t wait until I’m gone, which means it’s a good thing that I’m only here temporarily. No, I don’t have immediate plans to move out, that’s not what I’m saying, but I don’t have a reason to stay permanently. So one day, I will be gone from here. By then, he will probably have a girlfriend, it won’t be me, so I won’t have anything to keep me here. But if I’ve failed the girlfriend litmus test, then I’m not meant to stay here.

At least I can say that we did fix what was once broken. It’s more than I can say about the friend I was living with before I moved in with J. I find it interesting that the worst I can say is, “I have feelings for him again but he doesn’t feel the same way,” and I can be melancholy about that but completely honest to myself about how I feel and what’s going on, whereas I was dealing with a friend who didn’t want to do much of anything with me, who basically told me that I was a problem and I was making things worse for her family, who didn’t even try to help me by listening and talking to me post-breakup and eviction, and whose life hasn’t changed even though I don’t live there anymore. If the worst thing is learning that one girl isn’t really my friend, that I now live with a guy who should have been my friend all along, then I’m still heading in the correct direction.

Problem Girl

Another day, another petty argument.

This one was between two very stubborn individuals, the guy who accidentally hit the girl in the nose, and the girl who only needed a few moments before the pain went away before she was better. We were in his room, getting ready to watch a show with all the lights off, so there was no way he could see that my nose wasn’t bleeding or anything. Even after realizing I was fine, and recalling a time when I’ve had worse and my nose was actually bleeding from getting hit, he still insisted that I go to the bathroom and check myself out. I did, but the back-and-forth soured my mood for the rest of the evening.

It’s been said that if you’re fighting, you’re a compatible couple. I have to laugh at that, because sometimes those arguments and fights that couples have are pure drama, they serve no purpose other than to belittle the other partner. It’s all the unhappiness they feel normally, that they keep bottled up until something breaks, at which point they don’t care if they hurt their partner because they’ve been living with their own emotional pain. Somehow, I always find the love in my arguments with J. He wasn’t satisfied with me saying I felt fine, he wanted me to actually look and make sure that my nose wasn’t worse than I thought it was.

The problem always comes back around to being me. I should have just gotten up and checked my nose sooner, despite knowing myself well and knowing I was fine. Not only that, but all the pain I feel in regards to things between J and I, that’s all on me.

I don’t know if jealousy is an accurate description for what I feel when his ex comes to visit, or in general.

There is that voice in my head that reminds me of how I’m not friends with any of my exes, as if to tell me that I should be upset that he’s still close to his most recent ex. But then i think of Pete, who I don’t really classify as an ex because we weren’t in a romantic relationship. Pete and I are fairly good friends these days, and I’ve considered asking if he could spend a few days in January to visit me. I haven’t broached the subject, because I realize that while it would be “giving J a taste of his own medicine,” it could backfire in a number of ways, and I could be without two guy friends and be left with the constant reminder of my spiteful behavior. However, it could go positively, if I only think of it and treat it as a chance for a friend to visit and get away from his life for a while, and I show him the Asian stuff in the area that’s kept me going for the past year.

Speaking of the Asian stuff, it’s been a while since I’ve made omurice and okonomiyaki. Since omurice, or omelette rice, is simple and requires only a few everyday ingredients, I made it earlier this week. There are still other Japanese restaurants in the area I haven’t visited yet, and lately I’ve felt I should get back to taking myself out and writing about my experience as a whole. That was one of the things I used to write about here, I used to talk about Japan more, and wanting to go, and all the things I can experience over here. I never wrote about making miso soup for J, which I could have done. And at the thought of picking up where I left off with the Japanese restaurants, it doesn’t seem right to continue as I had always done, which is to say I was taking myself out to dinner. If I’m going out for Japanese food again, I want it to be with J.

But I realize that he doesn’t want me.

Well, I guess “realize” isn’t the right word, in the same way that one would realize water is wet. I could say that I’m “starting to believe,” like one would start to believe that their sand castle will withstand anything because they haven’t realized that water is also destructive. I guess I’m “leaning towards” that idea, and yes there could be nothing solid or firm there for me to lean on, and I could fall and hurt myself… because I’m dumb.

Oh, let me explain. The last time his ex was here, it was, “she (the ex) knows I’m joking,” and other things that made me feel like they were a team and I was odd man out. And when I made dinner, there were only ten rolled tacos, so I figured J could have the extra one but he split it two ways… and shared the other half with her, even though I would have liked it if it were split evenly among all three of us. When he played music, she swayed to the sound, enjoying every moment.

I can’t be her.

Not that I know how the music feels for her, but for me, it’s so much more. Lyrics are the words that are never said but often felt, the music itself conjuring up the scene of the story unfolding in a few short minutes. I can’t just sway to music, I need to perform it, I need to move my mouth and hands in such a way that I’m conveying the feeling of the song, because I feel it within me as if the words are my own and that is what I need to get out. There are a couple of songs that are personal and meaningful for me, because they make me think of my parents, and one will always make me cry. I can’t stop with, “that’s a good song,” because I get too passionate about some songs I hear. But maybe that’s all he wants, he just wants someone to sway to the music and simply be entertained, not someone like me who’s trying to figure out if he’s speaking through songs and who his heart and soul cry out to.

And there’s other ways I can’t be her. And I tell myself I should be good enough, or that I am. But then I realize that I’m nice to him in ways that don’t seem to matter as much, and I could be nicer at times when it seems more fun just to be a pain in the ass. I can’t simply show gratitude without coming off ungrateful first. And then I put myself in a mood I can’t easily shake, leaving J to wonder what’s wrong, but talking it over always comes back around to me being in the wrong and being dumb (not even in an abusive way, just reminding me that if I hadn’t said or done something a certain way, it wouldn’t have led to me overthinking a situation because nothing wrong would have happened), so lately it seems better to let my moods pass.

Although there is one advantage to knowing that I’m the problem, and that’s knowing I’m going to reject help and advice at a time when I know how things work for me. Yes, I’m sick, I came down with a cold yesterday. I texted J in the morning and told him I wasn’t feeling well, and that I’m not a whiny bitch when it comes to being sick. Basically I was telling him that I’m not the kind of girl, or person for that matter, who tucks themselves into bed and begs someone else to get them soup, get them tea, and basically wait on them hand and foot. I didn’t have to be told to take medicine, I found my antihistamines as soon as I could and took one. I drank tea and juice, and made myself soup for dinner. I left work halfway through the day because I had a headache that kept me from focusing on everything, and I didn’t think I could push through the last 4 hours of my day. I came home and took a nap, rolling out of bed when J got home from work, at which point I had more energy and felt more able to tolerate being around him.

My dinner was a mug of tea, a mug with chicken flavored instant ramen, and a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich on it. J had walked out to the kitchen around the time I was getting ready to carry everything out to the living room, at which point he offered to help me carry something. I’m not sure if being unwell caused me to get over myself, or if I was exhausted enough that I didn’t want to put up a fight, but I allowed him to carry my plate for me while I carried the two mugs, instead of insisting that I could take care of things by myself. He was rather nice to me yesterday, but again, it could be me being sick that I’m just being a bit kinder towards him.

“I’ll spare you from a kiss on the lips,” I said last night, before heading to my own room to sleep. After he questioned it, I reminded him that I was sick, something that I can obviously tell about myself even if it isn’t that apparent to anyone else. He, having an immune system I wish I had all my life, quickly pulled me close and gave me a peck on the lips.

He’s brave, that one. Kissing me when I’m contagious, dealing with my bullshit most days. I don’t want to let him go, but if he’s not into me romantically, we will have to go our separate ways one day.

Thanksgiving, Gratitude, And Happiness

“You smile more than you think you do.”

The context is lost, but J’s words still echo in my mind. It’s amazing that anything echoes in my mind, as it often feels like my thoughts and memories are arranged like stacks of books, magazines and loose pieces of paper in an endless, dusty room. My mind is full and cluttered, nothing is as it should be.

J usually sees me smile, but he’s also the one trying to make me smile as well. I wish I could sit here and say that he made me smile by giving me flowers, or being more personal and thoughtful by stopping by my favorite bakery and getting me a chocolate cornet. Alas, I’m still not his girlfriend, not that I know if he’d do such things even if I was. No, he does other things to make me smile.

I had to work a day shift on Thanksgiving, from 9 in the morning until 5:30. It was one of the slowest shifts I’ve had to work, and I hoped they would send some of us home sooner than they did. Well, I managed to be released around 5:05, and when I got home, the house feast was ready to be served. So, I had to ask… did they wait for me? Did they time everything to be ready at about the time I’d be getting home? One answer was no, that it just happened that way, and another answer was that yes, they did anticipate me having to work my full shift so I’d be walking in on all the food ready to be served. I was beside myself, because I really didn’t mind grabbing leftovers and fixing a plate of food for myself. I am just one person, and barely important enough for a whole feast to revolve around my schedule.

I felt humbled, because I hadn’t been able to help prepare any of the food (except my apple pie, which is a long story in itself for a homemade pie bought as part of a fundraiser), so I helped put away the food once everyone was done eating for the evening. The turkey was cooked in an aluminum foil pan, which I tossed out with the majority of the skeletal remains once we had picked off most of the meat. Honestly, I could have spent more time and gotten more meat off the bones, but I was trying to make short work of it. Anyway, I feared for the trash bag, thinking it would rip from the bones and the bent foil pan. I said to J that I needed assistance pulling the trash bag, but since I didn’t specifically ask for his help, he didn’t help me with the bag, and that conversation snowballed into an argument.

Sigh. 

I was already telling myself that I needed to stop loving him, i needed to stop having this silly infatuation, that nothing would ever come of this. I can’t even compete with his ex, who stopped by before i got out of work and gave him some tres leches cake that she made, which seems to be one of his favorite foods. Now we’ve had another petty argument, making my chances that much slimmer that anything good might come of any of this.

Forget the evening cuddle session before bed. Since we fought, I wasn’t feeling amorous. I did need to take a shower, and the song “Im Gonna Wash That Man Right Out Of My Hair” was stuck in my head while I did so, or at least that one lyric repeated in my mind.

Before I started the shower, I texted him the picture I took of the slip of paper I wrote on at work, listing what I was thankful for this year. As it’s posted on a board at work, I took the picture of my entry so I could keep it, and I figured I would need it for this day but I didn’t know it would come to this. In my mind, I was trying to say, “I was thankful for you, but you just pissed me off.”

“You forgot to say…” was his reply, adding a few things that went along with the argument we just had. Oh really? At that point, I simply apologized for saying nice, positive things about him. After that, since I stepped out of the shower to respond, I stepped back into the shower and finished what I was doing.

“Good. How dare you.” I didn’t read that angrily, when I first read that. I read it in his smiling, sarcastic voice when he usually says “how dare you.” It confused me, because I was actually regretting that I had even had a positive thing to say about him, and to post it in a public space.

“I’m thankful for you too. Usually.” Why? Why did he have to say that? I was mad at him! I mean, clearly my judgment is clouded by the crush I have on him, so if I stop having feelings, I’ll see him as he really is. But what have I even done that he’s thankful for me? I feel like a placeholder, like I’m just here until things work in such a way that he gets his ex back, or that I’ll be less important once he has another girlfriend.

And I shouldn’t feel that way. I feel like I am worthy of love, that I’m worthy of and deserve his love. It’s not just because I do the dishes. We were talking tonight about things, and it was mentioned that we both have money budgeted in such a way that neither of us is struggling on a monthly basis, and that we could assist the other in a pinch. “But we’re not in a relationship,” he mentioned, which was like stabbing me with a knife, albeit a decorative knife which I knew I wanted to keep. But the context was to emphasize that a couple he was referring to was engaged to be wed, and one partner struggled while the other seemed to do fine because they can’t budget financially together. Look what we have here, I thought to myself. But I suppose we only make a good couple on paper, or in theory. His feelings need to be there, not just mine.

After my shower, I crawled into bed and played on my cell phone. I heard a bedroom door open, then the wooden boards of the hallway floor creaked with each step. I figured it was the other housemate, who was in town for the weekend, or her significant other. I figured that whoever it was, the person was going to the bathroom, nothing more, so I minded my own business. I heard a muffled thud as something hit the comforter and my leg beneath it. I looked up, just in time to see the side of J’s face as he walked back to his room. I looked to see what hit me, only to discover it was the fourth 3-novel compilation of the Sweep series by Cate Tiernan, which I started reading about a month ago. I had just finished the third novel in the third book, and thus the entirety of the third book, earlier that day at work. However, I returned that book in the midst of our argument, opening the door just a crack so I could place it on the small bookshelf by the door, then closing the door behind me. I was going to be stubborn and prideful, I was going to start reading some of my other books instead of grabbing the next in the Sweep series. His words were already pulling me out of the mood I was in towards him, but seeing the book on my bed, I couldn’t help but consider him to be thoughtful, like that was the only word coming to mind to describe him.

Over the weekend, we were watching the second to last episode of Iron Fist. As sometimes happens, he couldn’t seem to figure out where to put his hand behind me, or if it should be on my side. So I held it in place over my left shoulder for long enough that the only reason why he moved it was because it wasn’t a comfortable position any longer. I started nodding off during that episode, possibly because a lack of sleep was catching up to me, and just as I had closed my eyes he nudged me awake. Usually he’s the one falling asleep and I try to nudge him, or we both start nodding off. My eyes weren’t closed long enough that I missed anything, so it was nice that he caught me nodding off at that moment.

Yeah, I’m thankful for him. And if I’m smiling more than I think I am, it probably has something to do with his ability to make me smile when I don’t otherwise feel like it.

Torture On Fire

So you know how I stated that living with my unrequited love has been, or would be, torture?

How naive I was to have that thought.

It has been three months since I reluctantly moved in with J, the reluctance stemming from a stressful situation tied to his circle of friends from back in 2011 which lead to an argument that ended in me forcefully being asked to leave the very house I’m now residing within. I don’t know what it was that made him break the silence between us, wordlessly forgiving me despite the fact that I still haven’t exactly apologized for slapping him. I didn’t really want to move in, but I was in a desperate situation where I needed to get out of another friend’s house. I thought I would be in the way, or that I wouldn’t be able to spend any time with him for whatever reason, so I figured I would be using the staircase closest to the kitchen quite often, making something to eat and then just spending my free time reclusively.

I didn’t know that I would remember that I ever had feelings for him once. I forgot so many things about him, about this house. Waking up to the faint melody of an acoustic guitar drifting up the stairway is always welcome, as his musical talents were one of the reasons I fell for him in the first place. His humor was another thing I admired about him, and I often find myself laughing at something he said or something we’ve built up to together. But there’s something about the ah-ha moments, and not just the A-Ha moments when he’s playing an acoustic version of Take On Me, when remembering the past feels no different from learning something new about him.

But in admitting my feelings for him, the feelings I once had and the feelings that redeveloped within me in spite of everything, I was told by him that he doesn’t see me romantically, that at best I am a friend with benefits.

I’ve held on, staying the course. But what course am I on? I’m not on an epic quest to make him love me, and I don’t know if its even possible to make someone see a person romantically if they don’t already. I’ve taken each day as it has come my way. That’s all I believe i can do, anyway.

I’ve allowed myself to be hurt, to be sad or upset, and I’ve expressed my emotions when I’ve felt like I had the right words to do so. At first, J tried to force an explanation out of me when I wasn’t quite ready, which resulted in me writing a lengthy email as I managed to get the thoughts out of my system. Weeks later, he persisted with gentler pestering, hugging me and making jokes until I felt a little more relaxed and willing to release my thoughts. A couple of days ago, he remarked that I seemed like something was wrong, but let it go and I eventually told him what was on my mind. I don’t know if I’m feeling safer with him, or if he realizes that I just need time to process my thoughts sometimes.

But that’s the thing, the last time I was consumed by overthinking my situation, just a few days ago, it was because I’m just a housemate and friend with benefits. His ex is struggling with her current situation, and in my mind, the only way that things would improve for her situation is if she left her current guy and moved out of his place. J has already offered her a room in the house once more, until she found another place, if that did end up being the plan. I don’t know, though. He always seems happier when she’s around, like genuinely happier, and she has said that she misses him. My thinking was that they’d end up back together, to which I asked what would become of him and I.

I would lose the time we spend watching Cougar Town and Iron Fist (our currently viewed shows at the moment), and it would be replaced with Steven Universe which I can’t stand to watch. At least with Cougar Town, I find myself questioning romantic relationships and how people act as couples, or at least how I view myself in relationships.

But I would also lose the time that he and I spend laying side by side in his bed at night, watching an episode of something or part of a comedy special. Wouldn’t I lose that to another girl who might be jealous or possessive and insist upon being next to her man? I’d be at the foot of the bed until I’m dismissed for the night, sent to return to my own bed at the other end of the hallway.

He said my thinking was way off. He said they’re not getting back together. He reminded me of how he was single for two years before he was in a relationship again. He told me that things do get better.

But… he never said that I would find someone.

And as soon as the clouds of my overthinking storm had passed, new clouds rolled in, soft, puffy clouds that were grey enough to cast doubt about whether a new storm was on the way.

I swear he has feelings for me.

The night i got a coworker’s phone number, J was in a less than pleasant mood until after I emailed him and pointed out that he was already getting the best of me. After that, J was much friendlier to me… for about a week or so, before we went back to our regular routine. Probably the one thing I don’t want to do would be to keep getting phone numbers, or getting the attention of new guys, because that’s when this whole thing becomes a game. Sure, I may appear to be desired by other men, but there’s always the possibility that the one I want will give up and look in another direction.

And if I read all those articles that are like Facebook’s version of a supermarket tabloid, it’s easy to believe that he loves me, if not just that he’s fairly into me, but that he surely has some interest no matter what. “Aquarians love their alone time, so if he’s spending a lot of time with you, he’s into you.” Check. “He values your opinion and wants you to make a decision.” Check, maybe not so much with the movies and shows we watch, but I did choose where to get a quick bite to eat on Saturday. I really can’t help that I’m indecisive and indifferent at times. Oh, what else have I read? Because if most of it is to be believed, J is into me.

So then, what is going on?

I’ve started to feel like I should back off, maybe not cuddle with him at night, or stop washing his travel mug, or just opt to do my own thing instead of watching shows with him. I figure that if I start to pull away, my feelings for him will go away, and then I won’t feel like the last person crossing the finish line when he does get into a relationship again. I’ve done a terrible job of trying to do just that. He is too much fun, and as always I try to get a few extra minutes of his time when I can.

I wonder, what is he up to?

It would be easy to say he’s lying and sugarcoating. Maybe he’s not really interested in his ex anymore, but just wants to make sure she’s happy with whatever life does bring. Maybe he just doesn’t want me to be upset until he actually does get back in a relationship with her. It’s really hard to say.

I do wonder if he’s… planning something. You know what I mean. While Thanksgiving is this Thursday, it’s the December holidays that would be really good for… something. Merry Christmas, I’m in a relationship again… that’s the kind of thing I’m thinking. J sitting down with the guitar, starting with a Christmas carol or two before leading into a love song. His hands never leaving the guitar, he dictates to me which gifts I open and in which order, and I scurry over to where they’ve been placed and grab each one that he asks for. The first gift or two are rather trivial, maybe a small bottle of shower gel to get me by until I can liberate my hoard from Bath And Body Works that I have in storage, maybe something else related to video gaming. The next gift is a necklace, something semi-decent, with a star or a moon design to it. I’ll glance at him as if something is wrong, because we’re just friends and I don’t think that calls for nice jewelry. Maybe at this point, unless there’s a nicer gift to be had before his reveal, he will tell me that he does love me, or that he wants me to be his girlfriend, or something like that.

Honestly, I don’t even know if it would be worth it to have to wait until Christmas to be told that he’s actually interested in being my significant other. It’s one thing to have met someone, and constantly wonder for days on end whether or not they’re into you. It’s another thing when you live with the person that your heart seems to call out for, especially after their lips have said they’re not into you in the same way that you’re into them. J will always be here, and as long as I’m here, I will have to deal with my feelings for him.

We’re three months down, living under the same roof. The arguments have been more civilized than anything I’ve had before. The discussions have been more intellectual and interesting as well. I can’t give this up. I feel like we were meant to be.

But I know how that sounds. I’m delusional.

This entry was posted on November 22, 2017, in Uncategorized. Leave a comment

Magic Man

Lately at work, I’ve found it’s impossible for me to get any reading done between calls. It’s not that there are more calls, it’s that I’ve spaced out, my mind has gone elsewhere and I’d forgotten I even had a book or two with me.

In my last haul from the storage unit in New Jersey, I brought one of my reusable grocery bags filled with books, and fortunately this collection contained at least one book that I had started but hadn’t finished. So I forced myself to finish Beauty’s Punishment, the second in Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy. I say that I forced myself to finish it, because when I started it, it was maybe 2011 or 2012 and I had a different mindset in regards to the subject matter of the series and my own experiences with a similar type of lifestyle. While I have the third and final book in the series, and was preparing to complete the story in my mind, J had another idea.

He handed me a book called Sweep, which was a collection of novels by Cate Tiernan, specifically the first three in a series. I suppose I could have chosen not to read it just yet, but J has been eager to know how far I’ve read or where I am in the story, not that his daily probing has been my motivation to turn another page.

It doesn’t take long to realize the series revolves around magic, or rather magick as it uses the other term to denote illusionary feats such as those performed by Siegfried and Roy, for example. More specifically than just magick, it involves the practice of Wicca, citing the various holidays and describing ritual work.

I should have stopped reading. In fact, I questioned J’s intentions for me reading the book. “It’s a good book,” was all he’d reply.

“You know, I’ve never even dabbled in Wicca. I didn’t know if you were trying to convert me or something.”

“Oh,” he said, mildly surprised. “I thought you had. Not trying to convert you, it’s just a  good book.”

I told him about what kept me from Wicca, which was the influence of my parents. I had put it out of my mind, it wasn’t even my thing.

Further into the book, when the morning winds violently shook the tree outside my window, I was reminded of a dream I had one time where strong winds pushed against me but I never fell over or bent to their will. Before I woke up from that dream, I noticed I was grasping something beaded in my right hand. I don’t remember all the symbols in the dream, just that I felt like I had some kind of powers or something, I felt like I was being called towards Wicca or witchcraft or something.

I read through Book Of Shadows, the first of the three books in Sweep, and the further I read into the story, the more I felt like I was being called again to try Wicca. But in the back of my mind, I wondered if I wasn’t just being lured in by a romanticized scenario of some sort, if I wasn’t trying to be the main character Morgan in some way. She pursued Wicca because it called to her, but she also kind of pursued it because of the dreamy witch boy Cal. Would I be pursuing it to feel closer to J?

Book Of Shadows ends on Samhain, but I finished reading it in the early hours of the 31st. It made me contemplate whether or not to take the plunge, or if it would even be acceptable to begin on the day that’s considered to be the New Year. Of course, I have to also keep in mind that the veil between this world and the next is the thinnest on Halloween night, or the night of Samhain, and I have two deceased parents who might still try to make their wishes known.

Well, if I decide to follow the path to Wicca, I have at least two friends who can help me down that path. And if I’m still contemplating whether or not it’s something I should do, there is always J to discuss what comes to mind. And if I decide not to start trying Wicca, it will either be a more educated decision than I could have made years ago, or it will be deep-seeded fear that I can’t get past

I already have the black cat. Being a witch might just be my fate.