HIM

Today I am thankful for HIM.

I tend to hate Thanksgiving and Christmas.  They remind me of HIM. 

He is my first love. 

He flits in and out of my life during times of distress.  I don't quite understand the emotions that I trigger in him when he sees me.  It's a cross between love and disgust. 

He's really gentle around me yet I make him impatient.  The last time I saw him, he had a broken leg.  I was running late to a lunch appointment with him and I swear I saw him tapping his cast on the cold ice as he waited for me to cross the street. 

I dream of him once in a while.  I usually see him when I meditate during the holidays. 

I figure one of two things are happening when the dreams occur. 

It could be that dreams of him bring me a sense of comfort.  He is a reminder of innocent days gone by.  He is a reminder of friendship at a time when my life fell apart.  During our short relationship, I lost my aunt, my grandmother and my father. I also became homeless. I met him on the heels of my mother's death. 

He stood by me, even after we broke up.  He made sure I was okay after I was raped and became incredibly depressed.  He's probably why I became a therapist.

That could be why I dream of him when the sh!t hits the fan.

-or-

When I go back to my hometown for the holidays I think of him.  Those are our former stomping grounds.  I can't go to the spice shop without thinking of him.  I can't go to the only accoustic guitar shop in our metropolitan area without thinking of him.  I can't even see my PTSD doc without driving past the places we spent our time. 

It's hard. 

It does seem like dreams of him trigger actual real life visits with the man.  It could be because we frequent the same areas during the same time of year and run into each other.  I don't know.  I've never really thought about it. 

Last time I saw him, I saw him in pain.  I wanted to take him somewhere and kiss his leg (the broken one, don't get dirty on me).  That realization shocked the holy heck out of me.  It's like I have a tendency to babify him: I want to treat him like a little kid. 

What the heck is my problem?

 

I think he saw my lusting after him and ran off. 

He had good timing, too.  For just seconds after he drove away, my stalker approached me. 

I haven't seen him since. 

We connected a couple of times online but it is awkard. 

What the heck is wrong with me? 

I've been sick lately. 

I took a nap today and had the weirdest dream.

I'm going to have to ponder this. 

It takes place in a neighborhood where my new crush resides.  It was the place I spent a lot of time before I met my old flame.  I lived with my grandparents before my mother died.  My new friend grew up about a mile from my grandparent's old home. 

Yes, I have a crush on a guy.  At first I denied how I felt because this guy resembles my ex a little too much.  I mean, at one time, they had the exact same job.  They are the exact same age.  They are both of the same heritage.  They have the same eye color and the same face structure.

At first, I laughed it off because I really did not want to fall in love with a clone of someone else.

Then, after getting to know him a little better, I realized that it was the differences that I adore.  My new friend is silly, playful and completely unstuffy.  He's not uncomfortable with attention.  He speaks his mind.  He doesn't expect me to stay quiet.  He's open and wants me to learn to open up.  He doesn't think he owns me.  He gets disgusted with men who think they own women.  He has never once criticized my clothing, my hair or my make-up no matter how much mascara runs down my face.  Oh, and he's not an adrenaline junky.  He likes to hike, bike and get out into nature but he doesn't brag about hopping out of airplanes and breaking his limbs.

I'm trying to deny all of this because I haven't let it get very far for fear of hurting someone.  Still, when I see his picture pop up on social networking sites, I cannot deny that I care for him. 

I guess, in truth, I'd have to say that this is true for both of them. 

I'll tell you about the dream, if you want. 

I'm in a dark room by a charity that I visit every Saturday.  I donate my old clothes to them.  They give them to battered women.  Usually they replenish my wardrobe with designer clothes for me for the cost of the spare change in my purse. 

I'm in this dark room working on making recordings for people online.  I do this at night when no one is there.  I leave my protein shakes in the fridge.  I notice that some guy leaves his lunch there every day in a paper bag labeled "Tom".

One day, I spent an inordinate amount of time mixing one recording and am there until the sun begins shining.  I meet Tom.  It's my old friend. 

He asks me why I insist on wearing red dresses and high heels. 

He tells me to stop it and to be myself. 

Hmmmmmm...

I love red dresses and high heels.  I just could never wear that with Tom because we walked around too much in cold weather. 

I am not myself lately, though. 

I am usually flirty and filthy; yet I have no one to do that with. 

I hate politics but you wouldn't know it. 

I hate clutter but I have far too many clothes. 

I hate make-up but I wear it all of the time. 

I am a morning person but I find myself working until the wee hours of the morning.

Maybe I am not acting like myself. 

I should've apologized for kicking him off of Facebook. 

He made fun of me. 

He said that he likes getting to know his exes so he can rate them based on how happy he was that they are out of his life. 

I made it easier for him to consider me as being out of his life. 

Then he compared me to Ayn Rand. 

I hate Ayn Rand.

I can't be close to a man who is not cognizant about the differences between a big L Libertarian and a little l libertarian: one of us believes in freedom for all (including the freedom of poor people to peddle their wares without paying expensive licensing fees) and the others who believe in using licenses to further corporate monopolies.  It is a little more complicated than that but this guy does not understand politics at all. 

I wouldn't have minded explaining it to him. 

Sadly, uneducated liberals did it for me. 

They ask 'but who will care for the poor?'

The answer is charity.  Sweeties, charity doesn't make you sign away your property.   Charity doesn't make you dependent.  Charity serves a higher purpose than forcing you to lose dignity on the public dole. 

In my state, public assistance is a career death knell.  You have to give up your business, your low paying job, and your education for a pittance of support and the promise to do the state's bidding for thirty hours per week. 

Don't do it.  It is not worth it.   You'll be stuck without a way out. 

Government is the reason people are poor.  Government is the reason that people can't afford homes.  Government is the reason jobs are moving overseas. 

We have too much regulation.  We are regulating people out of their comfort zones. 

I can't stand it. 

It hurts. 

Maybe this is who I am now. 

I don't know.