we won't break if we let go

I became a little worried about Frank, I hadn't seen him (at his cube, which I passed when I didn't see him in the first five minutes of the day) and his chair looked untouched, until after noon, when he was at his desk.  I found his number this number and let it ring until I got his voice message and cringed at the sound of his lovely voice.
I've been wondering about whether or not leaving him a thank you doodle is a good idea or not.  Maybe too stalkerish when a lot of other things I'm doing are definitely too stalkerish.  I know that I need to take the opportunity to talk to him and smile the next time I see him, but I'm afraid that I won't and the raging sorrow for the chance at something that would be good for me, make me happy (even if its just the warm light of receiving the positive vibes of a positive guy who has a crush on me and nothing more, let alone an intelligent friendship) will spiral me into a paralyzing depression.

But I always bounce back! I still have dreams... dreams of being healthy, wealthy and wise.
Kurt is as cold and closed off as ever.  The looming question of sex fills me with dread.  Did I mention how awful the weekend of the hurricane was?  I wanted him to look in my eyes and see how hurt I am, how much I need to be loved... And he failed.  Apparently he thinks he has some resentment to hold over me.  Rage.  Bottled, asphyxiating rage.  He is not remorseful for what he did to me, to our relationship.  He is a lazy thinker anyway, working towards loving me again probably seems to be an overly difficult task and not worth the effort.  Thinking about this rips my heart apart all over again.  I always cling to a tiny shred of hope for us, and wind up feeling worthless.  I think about him and what he must see in me: worthless, not worth the effort, much less than who he had in mind for a woman, not deserving of love, deserving pain and a broken heart.
It's just a matter of time before he cheats on me again.  He doesn't have a standard to hold himself to.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCtKULLcVXY&feature=player_embeddedI found this most beautiful song on tristan prettyman's blog, followed by a serendipitous quote days later:
"I want to beg you, as much as I can, to be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.
Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given to you because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
- Rainer Maria Rilke"

I have to be careful not to get too bitter of what may have been a lost chance at a loved life with a great guy.  It's all just a dream, the affection he felt may be completely gone now, never to return.  And it may have turned out that way even if I was single, open to love, ready to start a life...

I snapped at Kara yesterday morning, like really snapped, because of a potty accident, and I feel absolutely terrible about it.  Of course I can't talk to Kurt about it, he ignores the feelings behind abusive actions... (I tried, we ended up fighting.)  The weekend had been so harrowing and I was so stressed, feeling physically strangled with heartbreak.  Like a wound in my chest.  This poor sweet little girl caught the brunt of my anger at being so sad... I need to get healthy if nothing else for her.  More yoga, running, meditating, breathing, healthy eating, writing, organizing, saving money, clarifying goals, focusing on positivity and openness... for her. She's worth it, it would break me to think that she didn't think so.

I wanted to make sure I mention that I got my first cross-stitch kit in the mail yesterday and started it last night. Actually I wanted to document it, I took pictures I'll post eventually.  I want to 'research' the whole process, how people package their products, the ordering process, notes in the box, both sides of feedback (which I really need to put on my list of things to do). My little whale is coming along and so far I have recognized that doing these embroidered works that I have this idea about is, most of all, tedious.

I also need to get back into doing my 'real' blog again.  I know I need to, and need to just forge ahead (and edit later).  But my self-discipline is lacking -I don't know what's wrong with me.  Yes, I do: I'm depressed.  I may just need this time right now to feel where I am in my life.  To know where I am so I can see clearly, if sadly, where I am coming from and I can bear down for the road ahead.
I always think I have so much free time at my job, and its true, but the mood here is toxic and energy sucking.
I have to fall into trust, and get into my work. The process of my goals.  Get into myself.  Live the questions.  Work at being aware and mindful and look for signs and life-lines.  My love will come.

First Dance

I can't say 'it's getting crazy', because it's been crazy.  A few days ago was the most crazy ever.  Talking about daydream fantasies about F. 
I went back to a blog that I had found earlier this week, this head in the clouds, feet on the ground surfer yoga cali chick, that I had loved and gained inspiration from.  Living an inspired life: mindfulness, love, musician, yoga (a dream for my next life!)  From there I started thinking about Frank.  Maybe a rilke quote from her blog? it seemed perfect... (august 25th just hit me like a truck, I cried one of those good/bad cries in the bathroom) ...I really want to give him something, a doodle, a thank you note. 
But anyway, I was imagining pulling him aside, and talking to him, seeing how much I could lay everything out for him, being so honest and open and simply grateful for his being and not regretful that there would be no way he could shoot back daggers.  Yes, he may think I'm weird and do a 'back away slowly' move, but at least then I would know and we both could be done with this whole thing.
Would I ever do something like that? Probably not -I cringe to say that, because I'd like to believe that someday I will be defferent, more me- but this is why I don't think so: I saw Tara Price, julianna's mom, as I was going to pick up Kara, grabbing her stroller in front of the daycare.  Tara had the good-bye present photo for Miss Sue and... she was walking with him.  A thrill.  Too excitedly a hihowareyou to her, looking at him, smile... (They walked past and the soft way he asked her 'when was that picture taken' melts me as I think of it.) I was thinking, though I already lost my opportunity for it to seem somewhat along the lines of normal yesterday which was the first time I saw her next, that I would ask her his name.  But I couldn't think of her name.  I looked it up (I know:freak) in the daycare sign-in book this morning.  So know I'm thinking write her an email? If I ask her in person about 'last wednesday afternoon when you blah blah blah' will she remember? Is that definitely weird to ask so far away from when it happened? (no doubt revealing I've been thinking about it, him?)  I guess there's no denying that I'm hoping she'll talk about him, mention to him that I'm asking, maybe get interested and involved.  I know she's married with 3 kids, I even looked at the 'school quilt' of family photos just to make sure that it wasn't Frank standing with her and her girls.
So, I don't think I'll do anything 'drastic' (read: honest, open, free, approach him with heartfelt confessions, explanations, apologies and gratitude) because I don't have the guts to write an email, and doubt I will mention it to her in person -I can't decide which would be easier/harder/better/more normal.
The 'crazy' label appears when I'm sitting here in the morning thinking about us at our wedding, holding each other close, talking to each other in low, intimate voices during our 'first dance' telling each other how we can rest now, we have reached the end of a long road, we have found each other. I see that in him... this guy I hardlly know at all... his eyes, his looks, his exuberance changed to carefulness and reservation.  (I do sincerely owe him an apology.  I'd like to make him as happy as he had made me, once I had pulled my head out of my ass.  I'd like to give back to him, I am certain he deserves it.)
I can hear the tinny little voice in the back of my head ringing: You are so foolish.  Not just because it will very likely all come to nothing -you've felt this before over an intriguing stranger. (as strongly? or happily?, IDK. is there a difference between any of them?)  But also because if I push, and the 'disaster' as I call it, happens, hearts are broken (the only one I really care about is Kara's) and I get what I want: to be his, our relationship will be ever marred by the process of it.  Who can ever be expected to weather such a storm intact, let alone our heart's hope, our bright happy shiny view of each other, who can get through ugliness and outright brutality with poise and grace?  very few.

No Shit: Earthquake

I didn't see him today... yet.  Is that why I feel down?
I want to, I hope I do.
So unmotivated, so much to do.  Going for a walk now, maybe I'll feel better.

...
Ha!
So as I'm coming back from my walk, entertaining a really bizzare Frankfantasy, the building is being evacuated.  There was an earthquake! 5.8 they're saying right now!  I started to walk around to see Kara -the daycare had to wake them up from naptime- and hoping to see him.
Just called Kurt, got him. He had no idea.
I'm wondering where f is.  I had walked by his cube twice(sic) and he wasn't there.  On my walk I went by his jeep.  So he's here.. somewhere.

Another non-productive day... days, weeks down the drain, wasted away... where is my motivation? How can I get it back? Where can I go to find it again? (if there ever was)

Getting sent home while they check for 'structural damage'. wtf.

But what a Nice Dream

He's always catching me off-guard. That's the way of this thing.
:I ran into him on the stairwell this morning, almost first thing, I was going down to the bank, he was coming up.  Looking down, I saw him before he saw me, he was right in front me talking (listening) to someone he was with, -leaving no room for someone who may be coming down- and was right in front of him before he noticed he was blocking my way.  He looked a little shocked (may I say perhaps 'stunned'), but smiled, I can't remember what he said, but I said 'excuse me' and smiled, only because the look on his face was so awkward, the guy with him said good morning.  And after that I was all wound up.  Making my sick with fantasy desire.  Rationality cast aside and completely indulged in 'being loved'. He's kind of a big guy, I noticed.  Not little.  It's too much, makes the fantasies too good.
Here's some rationality: His awkward goofiness will annoy me, probably sooner than later; he's probably corny, soon enough will seem annoyingly so; his exuberance is surely fleeting, the dream of lifelong adoration from this 'wonderful, affectionate man who cannot resist me' is just that: a dream; his immersion in his culture is probably a huge barrier for anyone he's with who isn't also hispanic.
I feel ill today, a little sick to my stomach and exhausted... it was a long busy weekend.  It may also be time-of-month related.

Sentiment

Please don't make me hate my life. This is my plea to the universe. Has been for most of my life, knowing I have been on a slippery slope.  My standards, expectations are high, my hope and my ability to dream have never been lost.
My poor body, screaming out to tell me I'm doing wrong by myself, that this is the wrong path, in agony.  I get stuck in my head avoiding these agonizing messages my body, always entrenched in reality, always paying the price for my mistakes.  My body is so sensitive to eveything, things I eat and drink, workouts draining and revitalizing, music and noise, people, voices, body language, tension, the mood and energy of places, colors can even get a severe emotional reaction.  But  my head will keep dreaming no matter how much my body, in reality, gets beaten and battered.  I suppose I have been closed off the happinesses of present moments because my mind is stubbornly stuck in a gray or black or red rut.
Right now i don't want my reality.  I want him, I want the dream of him, the possibility of him.  The possiblity of being loved and adored, worshiped even by a good true mindful man is agonizing, twisting my already broken heart.  How am I still hopeful? I am glad I am, but... this? I want his brown skin, his sinewy muscles, his brown eyes, his laugh, the timbre of his voice, his expressions, his exuberance, I want them all and to claim them for my own. I want someone good and true to love, someone worthy, someone who inspires more love unto himself.
A relationship, i realize, of true love built in mindfulness and bravery, is so rare and so lucky to have the chance at, let alone to simply have, to live.

Dear Frank,
{right now, ha!, i feel certain that} You are the best thing that will never happen to me. Thank you for inspiring my dreams.

Its funny and so not, that in several months (no, not a few weeks, not a few months, this may take longer... I'm smarter wiser and more in touch with reality now than when I had the nonsense crush on Doug. (he really returned barely hint of sentiment towards me, definitely* not in the way Frank does, Frank -at one point, not now- made it clear and obvious and loud to me and many people who happened to be around that he had a thing for me. *that is what makes this so hard -Frank probably doesn't have the adorable achievement-oriented girlfriend that Doug had.  Frank is more me I think, though I'm not sure how much, and probably not as much as my richly visualized and passionately felt daydreams.  Oh, what daydreams.  It's apparent I am desperate.  Speaking of: must learn Spanish.

Not to make this a 'crush' blog, but... I did see Frank(I wonder if he goes by a different name?) yesterday, just for a tiny moment, as he was coming out of the door to the stairwell I was walking out of the blue lab doors to go to the bathroom (if I had gone to the break/kitchen area first, would he have stopped and waited? or turned around to meet me there? would we have talked?). He gave me a big smile and a wave. A bigger wave. Happy to see me.  I gave him a smile. Big smile. (Happy to see him.) But I have to remember why. Not the fantasy why. Happy, friendly, exuberant, crush on me guy.  That's all. That's not a life, not a guarantee.  Still: nice.

Breaking update: never listen to anything Robin says. She and L-Dog are contradicting each other about unemployment. Actually, if we go back to when I was on maternity leave, she's contradiction herself. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Yes, I hope I see him today.  Yes, I am still determined not to walk by his cube anymore, just to get a glimpse of the side of his head or to see what shirt he's wearing.


My birthday is coming up and I had originally been planning on making a whole month of it, to myself, privately. A little splurge on things I've had my eye on, some books on my wishlist, some other things from other wishlists, taking a little better care of myself...
But that got a little screwed up with the furlough. For one thing, Idid splurge, and ended up spending too much money on things unexpectedly.  I'm not totally regretful though.  I took most of that time for myself, which I feel bad about becuase I only took some of that time to be with Kara, but I could have taken more... I was stressed.  And I had been needing some me time, but I needed Kara time too, and Kara needed mommy time... we got some... For her daycare vacation week, I may take more than one day... we'll see. I'd like to plan something fun for her.

Written about Frank maybe a month or so ago. I was mad.
{ Pretty hilarious that this dude just walked by me. -not even: I'm working at the store, he's waiting at the elevator with his lunch in his hand -and nothing. Not a hello, not even a look, possibly avoiding eye contact! W.T.F. How do you go from stalkerish exuberant interest to 'I don't see you'! So he's not really that exuberant or friendly. Just another weirdo. Men are so childishly fickle. Oh and: that was quick. Not so sure I feel sorry for him anymore. He's fucking fine.
-Just annoyed that this would have been the perfect opportunity for both of us to be able to talk and he. is. so. not. interested. Just hurts that I can add 'anymore' to the end of that.
Rush past this to the point where I'm relieved to have dodged that pain heartache and drama of another man who is  immature and thoughtless.}

Even now, I don't disagree with what I was thinking then.  After weeks of pushing away, ignoring and being annoyed, once I realized how much having attention meant to me, I wanted more. And even after getting mad that he had taken it away, I adjusted my thinking to suit that part of myself.  This idea, and the idea of 'love', can get so  complicated and confusing.  I'm still mad and disappointed, I wanted him to keep going: if he had it would have seemed like a huge statement about how strongly he felt, the possibility of being convinced is just too enticing.  But what could he really be so in 'love' with? My looks?! God, I hate the idea of that! And what is it that I like about him? How much he likes me? I'm not sure if that even works, but i doubt it would be enough for me. But now I'm back here. Geez, for two people haven't spoken more than a four word conversation we have already had a lot of ups and downs.

I haven't mentioned, and this would have gone in that long list of sightings, 'get it all down and out of my system post, that there was another time I saw him, that I think was is really significant, and sad(contributing to why I feel sorry for him): I was walking(exercising) one day and saw him walking out of where cars turn in for the main entrance.  This was very early on... I was on the other side of the road, into my music, and though I noticed him and may have for a split second thought is was strange, I was determined to ignore him out of what should have been coincidence.  But, duh, it wasn't coincidence.  Did he think he would see me and I would stop and talk, was he going to walk with me? i don't think he knew what he was doing, i think he just wanted to see me.  I glance back and he was walking back toward the building with his head down.  That should have ended it.  You've seemed to make a fool of yourself for me, and I appreciate that, truly, but there's nowhere to go.

for want of a passionate (about me) man

Hello Monday.
A harrowing weekend.
I feel accomplishment deprived.

I've been walking by Jimenez' cube the past month or so, just to get a glimpse.  I don't actually want to bump into him when I'm right in front of his cube for no verifiable reason, but I almost never see him around anymore (so weird, right?!) and as time goes by there's things I want to know...
I was thinking that he must be avoiding me, that he caught on to my stalkerisms, and he's freaked out and knows there's just no way and no point...  That hurt. But it may not, and probably isn't true.  I saw him today as he was walking to the elevator and I was walking towards the doors to the labs and he looked at me, did a stop and did one of his little waist high waves, exaggeratedly, like, 'hi, is it okay to talk to you?' idk. A short exchange, but the most comfortable one ever, 'hi' how are you? I said! 'good! how are you?' 'I'm good' I kept walking, should I have stopped?, what would I have said? Could I have convincingly asked his name? I wish there was something... well, there was.  His 'exuberance', his friendliness, his crush on me and his willingness to be a fool for me half a dozen times.  But I killed that, and I should be glad about it -I don't want another mess do I? and I've 'decided' that leaving Kurt is the wrong thing to do, and I'm not doing it.  So it should be good that this guy has stopped crushing on me and being so happy about seeing me.  But I miss it.  And I feel really bad that he may be a little heart broken.  He just seems so sweet, and a good guy.
Ooo, I just thought of hearing him speak spanish...
I want to know: frank? your real name?, where are you or your parents from? (so I know what to 'study' ha!), do you speak spanish?, where you, are you in the military? (he has a maguire sticker on his jeep, which I shouldn't know), what is it that you do in the summer outside that gets your skin so dark? (beach person? boat? surfer?), is your family in the area? do you spend a lot of time with them?

Dear Frank

The unrequited agonizing lovelorn Jacki is back.  I have this idea, that I probably will not do, though I am seriously considering it, that I should write him a sort 'thank you' note and... leave it on his jeep or in his cube.
"In another life... " I had a whole rundown, but I can't think of it now.  I've spent most of the day thinking about kisses, hugs, the lilt of his voice, seeing his restraint to calm himself down so he doesn't scare me, passionate embraces, getting myself all worked up.  (Maybe its the time of the month.) My brain is pretty much mush.  And I'm supposed to see Michele today after work after god know how many years, who I've been wanting to talk to.  I'm doubting my ability to connect today.
I want to know the love of man I know will never hurt me.  I don't have that, I may never have that, but I know I want it. I can think about Kurt and believe he loves me if I look at him hard enough and in a certain suspended-reality way, but it's painful.  I don't like our love story, it will never be pure and will never swell me up with good feelings, just the opposite in fact.  I haven't given up on us (dumbly enough, though this makes me angry when I admit it to myself) but I know we will never be happily free -even at our best, which I can vaguely imagine a 'best' for us... it's not bad- and with his weight at my lifelong side there will always be a prominent melancholy to how I live my life.
The frank I have conjured is truly just a figment of my imagination, only in my dreams. As real as it may seem, as much as I desperately want and need for it to be real.  I am content, though I am not sure it is good for me or not (it may be something i need to cope, the harsh reality of my life may be a bit much for me, though i am into this idea of having productive dreams lately -which this is not) to dream about loving encounters, about basking in the nourishing glow of his love and adoration of me, of exuberant affection, of attentive love. Of love that is strong and sure, that leaves no question to 'doing the right thing' and 'what has to be done'.  Declarations of devotion, undeclared, but unmistakable devotion. The 'good man' that god I hope is out there and truly exists.