Patterns are Hard to Break

Over the last two years, my life has become unrecognizable to that of the person who used to write this blog, at least on the surface.  I moved to Charlotte, leaving a city that I used to think was the real love of my life behind me.  After moving here for a nightmare of a job, I was recruited into a job I genuinely love with coworkers who have become amazing friends.  Oh, and I bought a house.  I’m a homeowner, and that is a dream that never would have come true in DC.  

But, with all these amazing changes, I am still over here wasting time on boys who don’t deserve me.  I still tend to backslide with boys I should leave in the rearview mirror.  I’m still struggling with my ever-curvier body image because it’s hard to shake comments like Teddy’s that, even after all this time, are always in the back of my mind.  No matter how many times I remind myself I’m a badass, home-owning, curvy queen, I still have a hard time standing up for myself with people I care about when I feel wronged.  Instead of standing up, I still shut down.  Instead of moving forward, I still hold on.  It’s like I have a hard time believing I deserve all the success and great things in my life.     

Maybe that is why I let my hot neighbor into my life. Why do I have feelings for someone I know is broken and not really pursuing me?  Even though Hot Neighbor looks at me in a way that makes everyone think we are a couple, we aren’t.  I need to trust what he said - I don’t want to date him, he will destroy me.  Even if his actions don’t match, I need to listen to the words coming out of his mouth.  I have been taught that lesson so many times, when someone tells you who they are, you need to believe them.  

How did I get into this situation?  I should have never slept with my next door neighbor, but I let the spark I felt overcome my better judgement.  I’m turning 33 in 16 days and need to stop following the wild sparks that have led me into some of the darkest times in my life. 

When I ran into him on the sidewalk a week after moving in, I felt a tightness in my chest, that butterflies meet-cute moment.  I could feel my cheeks hurting from the insane smile I had the whole time we talked.  He asked for my number and texted me so I would have his.  I fought the “crazy girl” urge to google him immediately.  He is my neighbor, liking him is a terrible idea, the absolutely worst idea, and that is why I didn’t text him for a few weeks.  I was having a few friends over for a house warming so inviting Hot Neighbor couldn’t hurt anything; it was just neighborly.  

When he replied that he was going to ask me over for a drink that night anyway I felt giddy, ecstatic.  No harm in friendly drinks.  I rushed to finish cleaning up my house for the upcoming party so I could see the tall, mysterious boy next door.  I didn’t realize we would sit on my couch from 9:30pm until after 2:00am just talking.  I also didn’t realize I would come to  wish I could take back those 4 ½ hours.  If those hours of talking about everything hadn’t happened, maybe I wouldn’t be trying to shake off the feelings I have for him.  

As I curled my hair and put on my perfectly curated outfit for my party, I thought about him, what would Hot Neighbor think of my yellow dress, or seeing me all done up.  I was so happy to have my friends in my new home, to see their faces after months of quarantine, but until I answered the door and saw him on the other side, I was anxious.  But he came and he cleaned up nicely.  I tried not to focus all my attention on him, to make sure I was spending time with all the amazing people in my life who showed up. Every time I looked over at him and he smiled, those stupid butterflies fluttered in my chest.  When he left to pop by another party in the neighborhood, I felt a little deflated, even though he promised he was coming back.  I knew I was in big trouble, that Hot Neighbor was trouble, that I had caught some feelings.  

When other neighbors who I had over suggested we go to the neighborhood party, drunk me was all about it.  We walked into the alleyway party and I saw Hot Neighbor walking away from the party with another girl - I felt like I had been punched in the chest.  He said he was making sure she got home ok, but I saw how pretty she was, how thin and cute.  He was barely out of sight when my eyes welled with tears.  I was mad at myself for crying; I barely knew him and I had no reason to be upset.  So what if we had talked about more things in the first night hanging out then I had with the last guy I “dated” for two months?

I continued to down the rosé, hoping the wine would numb the feeling.  Instead I found myself alone in my kitchen, putting away leftovers and texting him to come hang out.  I went 100% drunk girl on him.  He was texting back, but he didn’t come over, or answer the door when I rang his doorbell.  I woke up the next day filled with shame and regret, mortified at my behavior.  I would love to blame the pandemic and being cooped up for months, but we all know I have been that girl when there wasn’t a global health crisis to blame.  I sent a GIF of someone hiding in a box labeled shame, and another that said “we’re still friends right?”.  

Hot Neighbor: “Haha yes I was planning on coming over today what time works for you.”

When I didn’t respond right away he came back with …

“Don’t make me come ring your doorbell ;)” 

A sense of relief washed over me.  I hadn’t ruined our friendship with my drunk antics.  He was going to come over and hangout.  I nursed my hangover and cleaned up more from the party, anxiously awaiting HN to ring my doorbell.  When he hugged me the moment I opened the door, I realized I didn’t know where we stood at all.  As we climbed the stairs to my main floor and he told me that the drunk girl from last night had thrown-up so she slept on his couch, I didn’t think about why he had taken her back to his place.  As I handed him a water bottle, he pulled me into another hug, a different hug, a caressing embrace.  That embrace led to a kiss, which led to clothes on my floor, and sober sex with my next door neighbor.  I didn’t think, I just let my body take over, absorbing every ounce of affection that I had been longing for over the past year.  Afterwards, lying next to him in my bed realizing how many lines I had just crossed and how much I liked him, I knew I was in over my head.  

Hot Neighbor didn’t hang around long after sex.  Left alone with my thoughts, a dangerous place to be under normal circumstances, I began to spiral.  I don’t want to be his fuck buddy, the fat neighbor he fucks out of convenience, I don’t want to be that girl and I have tried so hard to not be that girl.  I knew he and I needed to talk about it, that I needed to say that friends was a better idea considering we’re neighbors, but how do you bring that up?  I tried inviting him over for a drink during the week but he had plans that night.  I practiced the conversation in my head over and over.  That I wasn’t saying I wanted more from him, just in general I’m in a place in my life that I’m looking for more than casual.  

With Friday off, I spent the day at our neighborhood pool, day drinking and making new friends.  When Hot Neighbor asked if I wanted to come take a shot of tequila at his house, I was way too many White Claws in to have a proper conversation but didn’t realize it.  Have you ever had one of those conversations that the harder you try to fix it the more it snowballs out of control?  When “I don’t want to be fuck buddies” turns into, “You don’t want to be with me anyway, I would destroy your life.” I didn’t know what to say but of course I tried.  He said I would end up getting drunk and fucking him again in a couple months.  My mind said, well that does sound like me, but it also infuriated me.  How dare he!  When he told me he had a very hot but very stupid girl coming over, I knew I had to get out of there.  What he was saying didn’t add up to the person who sat in my living room the week before.  It didn’t add up to the person who told my friends about his broken engagement. But it did sound like so many shitty guys from my past.  

I reacted in the only way drunk me knew how, I sat on my couch crying and texted my much younger ex, P (full story on him in a later post).  He couldn’t come over that night but would text me the next day to hang out.  Although we are never ever going to work out, I knew that P would make me feel wanted and at that moment I needed to feel desired.  I needed Hot Neighbor to know I was wanted by other people.  

When P showed up to the alley party the next night and met all my neighbors, he held my hand and kissed me.  I’ve never been a dirty secret with him.  Our first date was a huge cocktail party with all his friends.  I go back to him because he has never made me feel like I wasn’t good enough; he has always been proud to be seen with me and to show affection.  Hot Neighbor wasn’t there and that didn’t matter, I needed P’s attention.  After an hour at the party and several hours back at my house, I was reminded that casual doesn’t have to lack passion. P left because he had an early tee time.  I tried my best to persuade him to stay the night, and as he put it “used my witchery” to prolong his departcher, but few things get in the way of him and golf. 

After he left, I checked my phone to find Hot Neighboor texted me several hours before.  “What are ya’ll getting into tonight?”  I should have let it go, but I didn’t.  I said, “Sorry I had company.”  

HN: No worries. Are those fireworks coming from our neighborhood?

Harper: I think so?  I have sparklers I haven’t used. 

HN: You dog. How late do these people stay up partying?  I still haven’t reached my drunk peak. 

Harper: I think they are still in the alley

HN: Do you want to drink?

Harper: Sure

HN: Don’t sound so excited

Harper: My place or yours?

HN: You are welcome to come over or we can go to the alley your choice. 

Harper: I just asked if they are still out there. 

HN: Tight. Tequila shot? 

After a shot of tequila, me alluding to my company, and him reminding me that he will always be the first person I had sex with in my house, we headed to the neighborhood party that was still going at 1am.  When I walked up, one of the neighbors who I had just met that night blurted out “that isn’t the guy you left with earlier.” I felt both embarrassed and vindicated.  I told her that HN was just a neighbor I walked over with and that P had left, a sentiment I had to repeat to several different people.  The more people commented on where P went and pried for details, the more Hot Neighbor was on his phone, well until a girl showed up in the alley.  She had some kind of accident so he had sent her to his house by herself to get cleaned up.  When we all gave him a hard time about how he should have gone with her, he said “I mean I don’t care about her, I’m not going to sleep with her.” 

My new adorable gay couple besties, M&C,  said something about would you have sent Harper down an alley by herself, and NH’s answer shook me.  He said of course not and if that was me he would drop his drink, run after me and make sure I was home and safe in bed.  When he saw the look on their faces, he started to back peddle, I matter because we’re neighbors, she's like a sister.  I gave him a look, and he retracted the sister comment.  

Are you confused yet?  Because I sure am.  C took me upstairs to freshen up my hair and clean up my melting mascara.  When we returned the girl was back, and as much as I wanted to dislike her because of the circumstance, she was actually very sweet.  But I couldn’t help but notice she was the exact opposite of me.  Tall, thin athletic build, long brown hair, brown eyes and a tan I will only have if I pay someone to airbrush me.  I probably weigh two of her.  How can I believe he is into me if he is into her?  When they started to kiss I was done, it was 3:30am anyway.  

Walking away from the party I knew he was going to sleep with her, and it bothered me more than I wanted it to.  I had slept with someone else, I had no right to be jealous, but it still raged inside of me.  Every bit of validation I had gotten from P and our time together was gone.  

Over the next week Hot Neighbor and I really didn’t talk.  A snapchat here or there, he would watch my instagram stories, but no real contact.  I knew he had a military exercise coming up, he is in the reserves, and that would mean he would be leaving for a few weeks.  Thursday evening he sent a snap of his packed bags.  I responded asking when he was leaving and he said Saturday morning.  I felt the need to see him before he left.  I was cooking dinner for M&C and invited him over for a drink with us.  Dinner led to us hanging out in M&C’s garage and lots of neighbors stopping by.  

When Hot Neighbor finally got there, I felt so anxious.  I tried my best to not flirt and to talk to other people as much as possible.  Someone I had just met said something about how long my boyfriend and I had been in the neighborhood.  I quickly corrected them and said we were just next door neighbors.  I talked to a gorgeous older Latino man who was there with a friend.  We were having the best conversation, and I said something about being single and buying a house on my own.  He said, “wait you’re single?  I thought you were with,” and he pointed out Hot Neighbor.  Knowing I was single apparently changed everything for this dreamboat of a man, his words not mine.  He asked if he could walk me home, and after some hesitation I said yes.  

I didn’t say goodbye to HN, but when I said goodbye to C he told me that when Hot Neighbor wasn’t with me he couldn’t keep his eyes off me.  I wanted to believe it was because C is my friend and not because Hot Neighbor really was giving off “we’re together vibes” to everyone that night.  I kept trying to push it out of my mind.  Hot Neighbor left for his military thing and I thought this meant I could get my head together, except all weekend people who met us that night kept commenting on how they thought we were a couple, and well he is clearly into you then.  

How am I supposed to get my head on straight about us being friends when he acts like that?  How am I supposed to believe the things that come out of his mouth about being terrible for me when he looks at me with his big hazel eyes and I have to look away because it makes my heart flutter?  Why can’t I just believe him and shut off my feelings?  

This is like every guy from my 20s in DC - the pattern I have been trying so hard to break.  He is broken, and I think I can fix him. But if history is any indication I can’t.  I refuse to spend months or years of my life on another person who is never going to change, or grow up, or realize that they want to be with me.  How do I make my heart stop feeling like this?  I know how it is going to end; he even told me how it is going to end. Why do I still want to believe he got scared of his feelings and is pushing me away?  How can so many things in my life have changed, and I still can’t pass up a broken Peter Pan of a boy destined to break my heart?  

I shouldn’t spend another minute on him, yet I have spent hours pouring all my feelings and our story onto these pages.  Thousands of words written just to remind myself that this isn’t a Hallmark movie.  He told me who he is, and I need to start believing him.  Can one of you show me how? 

Seven Years Later

Seven years ago, I started this blog as an ambitious 24 year-old one year into my career in Washington DC, and in love with a boy with a girlfriend.  Fast forward to now,  I am a 31 year-old single cat mom living in Charlotte, NC.  It has been almost a year since I moved to Charlotte.  Countless times I have begun to write about this huge life change, to write about the catalyst for the change, and the struggle of starting my life over in a new place at 30 but couldn’t find the words.  As often as I have shared the most intimate parts of my life with all of you, this was just something I felt I needed to be mine and mine alone.

It was just two short months from the day I first contemplated leaving DC to the day I drove away for a new job in Charlotte.  It was like I blinked, and I had changed my whole life without really processing everything I was leaving behind.  Although the move has been good for me, and there were really reasons for it, leaving DC felt like leaving a part of me behind.  It was like I split my heart in two and when I went home at night I would cry for that part of me. There was a time when I believed that DC was the love of my life and there was no way I would ever live anywhere else.  It was as if DC was woven into the fiber of the adult I became there and I never really knew. 

How can this be Capitol Confessions if I am no longer in the Capitol?  If I am honest I stopped being that Harper a long time ago.  Harper Waverly is an alter ego I don’t recognize anymore. She is the pen name I chose when writing as myself was impossible.  As I have discovered new hobbies, new sources of happiness, I have lost other parts of myself.  It seems impossible to be everything all at once, to fit in all the boxes and please all the people from each aspect of my life.  I am an Ole Miss Sorority girl, a southern debutante, a political junky, a Harry Potter fangirl, a true Whovian, a professional in corporate America, a pop-culture addict, an Anglophile, a Comic-Con goer, and a cosplayer. 
 
In the past year I have done things I never thought I would do; maybe because outside of DC the pressures as someone who could run for office someday have lifted.  I have had dramatic moments that have lead to high highs and very low lows.  How do I articulate all the joy and pain of the past year of my life, because I don’t think I can do it justice? The words to describe the devastating gaping hole that leaving Chloe, my best friend, my person, left inside of me and the struggle we went through to find our new normal.  Meeting new people who finally made Charlotte feel more like a home and less like a mistake. Having a clandestine affair in an empty ballroom of an Atlanta hotel at 4am the last night of DragonCon (I really should tell you all that story sometime).  A relationship with real promise ruined by a broken condom and a trip to buy Plan B because it made things very heavy way too soon, and the havoc it reaped on my body (both the Plan B and the loss). 

I have no idea how to put a year worth of life changing events, crippling depression, unbridled indulgence, creative expression, new friendship, and intense loneliness into a few paragraphs.  Over that year I have found my place in Charlotte; I have created a home I am proud of and accumulated a family that supports me at every turn. 

I might not know how to share the time that has past since I last wrote,  but I do want to share all that is to come.  Thank you for reading and being a part of my journey over the past 7 years. I hope you will continue on this roller coaster with me as I navigate friendships, career, and dating as a 30-something in the South. 

2017 ... Get Out of Here!!!!

2017 has been a hell of a year.  It has been full of big life-altering moments.  I started a new career path in finance, making the reason I moved to DC, politics, an interest instead a way of life.  I let friendships go, not because I wanted to, but because I deserved to be treated better.  I learned more about my parents, their marriage, and how devastating their actions can be more than any child should know.  I adopted a kitten who has filled my little home with so much love, toys, and cat hair.  I turned 30, closing tthe door on my 20s and finding something surprising on the other side.  Through these ups and downs I have learned so much about myself, even if I couldn’t see it in the moment.

If you had told me 7 years ago, when I packed my bags for DC, that I would be doing anything but working in politics I would not have believed you.  I was 14 years old when I fell in love with politics, government, and laws governing our country.  I used to believe that one of the best ways to make a difference in people's lives is to help changes the laws that govern them.  I still believe that is true, but now I also believe just because you love something doesn’t mean it is going to be the thing that makes you happy.  Making the decision to leave the life I always dreamed of living (but found myself miserable in) for a company that would make sure I grow and learn was one of the hardest I have ever had to make.  I came to terms with the fact that leaving politics did not make me a failure, and it did not mean I gave up on my dream.  Very few people know exactly what they want to do with their lives at 14 years old.  With that in mind, I realized that dreams could be used for other things, and I didn’t give up on my dream; I just lived it and found new ones.

Walking away from people you love, even if it is for the right reasons, is never easy.  I walked away from a person I loved very much, who had become one of my very best friends, my confidant, and my family.  When you let someone in like that, reveal your most vulnerable self, it is devastating when they deliberately hurt you.  They know what cuts the deepest and the fact that they would use that against you, take the cheap shots - it is beyond words.  I promised myself over the past 7 years that I would not let other people make me feel inferior, and I would not force myself where I am unwanted.  I also have learned when people show you who they really are, believe them.  When they berate you, rubbing salt on the wounds they inflicted - that is the real them.  Walking away from that friendship meant I lost several other people through association.  Even though that was February I still struggle with the loss of them all, but i have too much respect for myself, and have worked to hard to find that respect, to let anyone treat me the way I was treated.  People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime and the season turned on these particular friendships.

It’s hard for me to discuss my parents, especially since my mother took my dad back.  I have a hard time looking at him and not seeing the woman he had an affair with for 5 years.  Every time I see a picture of myself with my hair dyed red I am reminded that she was a redhead, and because of that, I don’t know if I can ever be a redhead again.  I will never understand why my mother stayed.  They haven’t been happy in a very long time, well before the affair.  My dad is a selfish person, and at 59 years old there is very little chance that will change.  Even as an adult, hearing the fights, seeing my mom in tears, watching her burn her wedding dress, it was like I was living a nightmare that I couldn’t stop.  Everything about my family was changing forever, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.  Now that she has taken him back, they do things they have never done before, like hold hands the entire time they are in the car together.  I don’t trust it, because I don’t trust him.  I want more for my mom than this.  I want for her what she raised me to believe I deserve.  But it’s not my decision.  Now I go home for holidays to a new house that my mother bought when she was planning to divorce my dad.  I listen to my dad say how thankful we are to be together, but I remember that terrible things that were said just 7 short months ago.  Now my family feels like a big lie, even if we are all just lying to each other or ourselves.

The great light in this year has been Lucy.  That little fur ball has brought be joy and given me something to be excited to go home to.  With every meow and snuggle, I love her a little more.  I don’t care if I have eliminated 20% of my male dating population (direct quote from our company's president).  She greets me at the door every day, making my life feel a little more special.  I have leaned in to the crazy cat lady thing.  I even made Lucy her own Instagram (@lucykittenadventures).  I mean do you know how much some of those instagram pets make their owners a year?!?! Besides she is just too cute not to share with the world, but I am her mom soooo.  In all seriousness, the added responsibility of keeping another living thing alive has also been good for me.  I have to think about her before I can plan a trip or stay out all night.  She has helped me shed a few more of those young habits and adult a little bit more.  So what if everything I own in covered in cat hair now.

All of that before my 30th birthday?  Ok 2017, you couldn’t give me a break?  Leading up to my 30th birthday I was not taking the idea of my 30s very well.  I put so much pressure on a party and a big outing and trying to make this “milestone” special.  I know now I was just trying to control something since I couldn’t make time stand still.  I was so worried about all the things I had planned to do by 30 instead of thinking about all the amazing things I had done.  When the day came it was just another day, and I didn’t feel any different.  As I have settled into 30, I do find myself just a little more comfortable in my skin.  I have tried to shed the whole idea of “suppose to” and am looking at what I want to do.  I am determined to live my best life.  I am going to be a Harry Potter and Doctor Who fangirl, a crazy cat lady with more nail polish than some salons, and a tv addict who might require rehab.

With 2018 rolling in, I look forward to what it will hold.  I have so many adventures planned and celebrations to attend.  I am going to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter Celebration in Orlando, where I am going to dress up in costumes and nerd out for 3 days of Harry Potter excitement!  This year I will take the time to see friends, and build on the amazing relationships I already have in my life.  I am sure 2018 has some curves up its sleeve, but after 2017, I think I am ready for anything.

Lucy Kitten Adventures

So far 2017 has already held its fair share of life-changing moments, many of which I wish had never happened, but there is one that has changed my life for the better.  In March I adopted a kitten!  Her name is Lucy and she has become my everything.  

I have always loved animals.  Growing up we had dogs, cats, and a rabbit..  My mother even has a story about me trying to smuggle kittens from a family friend's house in the front pockets of my dress when I was about 3 years old.  Living in the city I always knew I would eventually want to get a cat.  As much as I love dogs, I am not going to wake up at 6am to walk it when it is snowing or raining or Saturday.  When I found my current apartment last February, being cat-friendly was a must.  

After waiting a year so that I was comfortable in my place, and finally at a job where I plan on staying for a while, it was time to bring a cute little furball into my life. I started to get lost on adoption sites like Petfinder.  I convinced Chloe to be my cat whisperer and to take me to pick a kitten out from Petsmart.  About a week before our scheduled trip, I was looking at an adoption site, and there she was.  The cutest kitten that I had ever seen.  I said out loud this is white and tabby-patched girl with big eyes is my cat!  I quickly emailed an application in to see if she was still available.  One week later Chloe and Betsy were driving me to pick up Gracie Lou up from her foster home.  I loved her immediately and renamed her Lucy.  

The day before I picked up Lucy was one of the hardest days of my life.  I found out about my father's affair.  It was the day that forever changed my family.  I couldn’t have gotten my furry source of unconditional love at a more opportune time.  From the first time she crawled in my lap the first night, she was my furbaby and I was her mom, and we were in this together from that moment forward.  This is when you can insert all your crazy cat lady joke if you must.  

I have embraced the cat lady lifestyle fully.  I show my coworkers cat pictures, make the cat sitter send me pictures when I am traveling, and have canceled plans because I would rather drink wine at home with my cat.  My boss likes to remind me that I have eliminated 20% of the male dating population by getting a cat.  I have even created her own Instagram page (@luckykittenadventures).  #fullcatladylife

Sidebar: Why with people who are obsessed with their dogs they aren’t a crazy dog lady, but the moment someone gets a cat people tell her she is a crazy cat lady and will probably die alone?!?  It is just rude!

Truly, Lucy has been one of the only lights in a very dark and emotional time in my life.  I have cried in her fur more than I will ever admit.  She knows when I am upset and tries to comfort me.  Choosing to adopt her at that exact moment in my life was serendipitous.  The universe knew she needed a home and that I was going to need her.  Thank you universe, for bringing me the most adorable, silly, loving furball I ever could have asked for.  

* To Learn More about adopting a cat or dog of your own in the DC/ Maryland/Virginia area visit Lucky Dog Animal Rescue.

Letter to My Future

As I have watched my parents relationship fracture and crumble, I have seen the man my father truly is.  As the lies are exposed and the rose colored glasses are removed, I wonder if I will ever be able to trust a man fully again.  How do I continue to believe in love when my example of love is broken?  Somehow I still have hope that someone is out there for me, and if they are, I have a few things to say to them.   

Hello,

I am not sure if you are out there looking for me, or if we have already met.  Maybe you are still sowing your wild oats, and that is ok.  When we make our way to each other I want you to be ready.  We won’t be young and stupid or trapping each other.  I want us to choose each other.  I want you to see my flaws with open eyes and love me because I am not perfect, not in spite of it.   

Be forewarned, I come with baggage.  I have spent my life being an afterthought for the men in my life, neglected and ignored.  Make me a priority, because you will always be my priority.  Hold my hand when we are walking through a crowd so that I never feel lost.  Never hush me or try to dampen my light because you never want me to feel small. Learn the small things about me, like how I take my coffee or what I want on my hamburger.  Those small everyday things are more important than the big romantic gestures to me.  I would rather you really know me than have the big social media worthy moments.

Accept my eccentricity, they are what make me interesting and who I am.  It took me a long time to not hide behind pearls, a southern accent , and a smile.  I am not ashamed of my fandoms, or all the cat pictures on my phone.  Embrace the things that bring me joy, even if you don’t understand them.  I will always embrace the things that make you you.  Make an effort to get to know my friends; they are my chosen family and aren’t going anywhere.     

It doesn’t all fall on you.  I promise to tell you how I feel instead of internalizing things.  I will listen and pay attention to you, because what you say matters to me.  Laughter will be something I strive for with you every day because I want you to be my best friend. I know we have both been independent for a long time and will respect that we need our own space.  I never want us to lose who we are as individuals just because we are together as a couple.     

I am waiting for you because I know our love will be worth it.  I won’t settle for someone else out of fear you might not come or impatience that you are taking too long.  Actually, I will never let fear or insecurities drive our relationship.  I have watched what fear of being alone can do to a marriage over 38 years.  We will not be my parents. I will remember you are not my father.  

While I wait, I will let life happen, but know I am ready when you are.  

Until we find each other,

H   

30

This week I turn 30!  Yikes, that seems so old, something that used to feel so far away.  Much like my Quarter Life Crisis at 25, I have not been handling the fast approaching golden birthday very well.  People who knew me in college might be surprised by that because I used to think 30 was the perfect age.  I used to think 30 would be when I would have life all figured out, I would be settled down. I didn’t expect 30 to be sharing my over priced apartment with no closet space with my newly adopted cat.  

I have been looking back on my 20s and have regretted some of the boys and the wild nights. Feeling like I have lost time on all the wrong people. Maybe I should be realizing that they were the right people to get me to where I am. That is what your 20s are for. Making mistakes, falling for the wrong people, realizing what you really want in the right one. Your 20s are for making unbreakable friendships, the friends who become family, the friends who know everything about you. Your 20s are for chasing your dreams and finding the career path that not just pays the bills but makes you happy.

But what are your 30s supposed to be for? What will this next decade (don’t like it) hold? Unlike the disappointing self inflicted expectations of my 20s I am not setting timelines for my life anymore.  I just want to live life as best I can. Travel and see as much as I can. Love the people in my life. Stop worrying about what is missing and focus on what I have.  

Even though 30 does not thrill me I am doing what I do best, and throwing a big party.  Well a two part extravaganza really.  It all kicks off Friday night with a rooftop party overlooking the White House.  There will be champagne and rose, flowers, friends, and Chick-fil-a chicken nuggets!  What more could a girl ask for?  Maybe a fun theme?  Well, I have that covered too!  Party Like a Pineapple!  Pineapples are sweet on the inside, stand tall, and wear a crown, just like me!  Pineapples represent hospitality, are something every home should have, and just happen to be something I collect.  The celebration will roll right into Saturday with a party bus to Virginia wine country with my nearest and dearest.  I will wrap up the weekend with a killer hangover that I will get over just in time to drink more wine while eating pizza and watching Game of Thrones!  It will be a weekend full of all my favorite people and all of my favorite things.  

Although I made some mistakes in my 20s, I can’t imagine my life being any different than it is right now.  I hope the next decade (nope still don’t like it) is full of more adventures with my friends and a time for me to continue to grow.  Also, full of wine … always more wine!

Slipping ...

I can feel it.  It is creeping over me, slowly, with every ounce of bad news or bad decision.  I am slipping into my dark place.  I am trying to pull myself out, but I feel like I just keep slipping deeper.  It is like trying to climb up the side of a dark muddy hole, the harder you try to grip and claw the farther you fall, and the hole gets just a little bit deeper.  

This was supposed to be the year of Harper, this year of empowerment and good things.  I keep making decisions to try to prove I am living my life for me.  I dyed my hair red.  I said it was because I always wanted to, which isn’t a complete lie but it isn’t the whole truth.  I needed to know if the blonde bombshell persona I have been hiding behind all of my twenties was the only thing that made me me.  Am i more than a Marilyn Monroe wannabe?  You might be saying to yourself it is just hair, but our society puts a lot of emphasis on hair.  People spends ungodly amounts of money to color, cut, and protect their hair.  People sew and clip in someone else’s hair to give them the look of full abundant hair that society has told us is beautiful.  If I added up how much I spent on the salon and products every year it would probably make me sick.  So, how did going red make me feel?  At first I didn’t even recognize myself.  I worried that I had just taken away the one thing that helped make my features beautiful.  I found myself worried about what every person in my life thought about it.  Would I still attract the same men or any men at all?  It has been a month and I have decided to keep it red, at least for now.  I think in many ways it is making me face some of my fears.  Which is good, because the rest of my life just makes me want to run.

Why do I want to run?  Why am I slipping farther and farther?  This is really hard for me to talk about.  I am just going to blurt it out.  My mom is going to leave my dad.  At 29 years old, my parents are going to get a divorce.  Or at least my mom likes to talk to me about the selfish things my dad does and tell me she is looking at houses online and thinking about divorce attorneys.  I want them both to be happy, and if that means they need to be apart, then fine.  I know my life will turn upside down, but I am an adult; I can handle that for them.  It’s more that my example of love is broken.  No wonder I can’t find a healthy loving relationship, I didn’t exactly have the best example.  I date men like my father.  Men who only give you the little part of themselves that they want to share.  Men that never think about you when making decisions that will inevitably affect you.  Men who are selfish.  My mom tells me to break the cycle, to find someone who will adore me, but I don’t know how.  It is true, women end up dating their fathers.

I also am still not talking to Bee.  I sent her a message a month ago.  I know it was probably too late, but I meant what I said in it.  I love her, and I miss her.  I know that doesn’t change that we have things to work through, but it does mean that I want to try to figure things out.  I tried all summer to find the right words to say to her, but I never could figure out how to say how she has made me feel all these years without reliving every terrible moment.  I was too worried about my parents, and my job and just kept telling myself that it would keep.  We would work it out eventually, maybe we, maybe I, just needed some time.  Instead of time bringing us back together it has dissolved what we had.  How strong could our friendship have been if we can’t make it through this?  10 years, maybe that was the time limit on our friendship.

I try to forget Evan and the fact that when I tried to make something more of our causal relationship he just disappeared.  I try to brush away how deeply hurt I was.  I had really let him in, let him see all the parts of myself I try to hide.  Somehow he made me feel safe, and wanted, and alive.  I had given him more power to hurt me than even I had realized.  When he disappeared, the aching was palpable.  I wanted to feel anything else, anything but what I was feeling.  I have slept with boys to prove to myself that I am desireable, and to mask that I still care about Evan, still think about him.  

When he texted this weekend after 3 months of silence, there was a little part of me that wanted to believe the “I’m sorrys” and the “I miss yous”.  At least in that moment I was able to call him on his shit, to not let him off easy, to find some little ounce of strength.  I deserve more.  I was just starting to really be ok, and he had to pop back up, to remind me that my feelings for him are still there, fading but not yet gone.  

I try to grip a little harder, and I slip a little farther.