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. 

Social Pariah or Self Confident

You can’t hide forever.  Eventually there is going to be that thing you can’t run from anymore.  I have the sneaking suspicion that my running days are over.  Whether it’s from Hadley or D, or both, I am not entirely sure.  This weekend, while rocking a sexy red cocktail dress, I was informed that I am a social pariah.  I was aware that it was a possibility, but to hear it out loud was a different thing altogether.       

I thought it would bother me more, to know that people are practically getting shunned for talking to me.  It is actually kind of liberating.  I don’t have to care, and I know I shouldn’t anyway.  I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of, I did nothing wrong.  For the first time in maybe forever I feel comfortable in my own skin.  I don’t feel the need to please other people if it means doing something that I don’t want to do.    

As for D, I know it is my choice to go back to that weekly social gathering for the last month it ever exists.  It has been almost a year since we have been in that rather small room together.  I think I can handle it, but tonight will be the test.  It is bigger than him, it is a place I used to call home, my Cheers, closing down.  My heart is still racing out of anxiety, out of fear of what I might feel.  He is not worth my time and it isn’t about him.  Still, I can’t help but be nervous.  For over a year we have been skillfully avoiding each other. I can’t hide forever.  Not from D, not from Hadley, not from the fear of irrelevance.  

Maybe that is why I enjoy the idea that I am a social pariah, the idea that being despised is better than being unnoticed.  I know I am better than that, have come to far to fall into that trap again.  I don’t need to be liked, but I don’t need to be hated or even noticed to be happy either.  As long as I am being myself, it doesn’t matter if people acknowledge me.  The people who are worth my time will like me for me, be there no matter what, and won’t be scared off by other peoples’ feelings about me.  But to be true to myself I also have to stop making my decisions based on who may or may not be somewhere.  My decisions are my own, not affected by anyone.  I will not be controlled by fear, I will not hide, and I will not be weak just because someone expects me to be.  

Over the last 8 months I have become the strongest version of myself.  I look in the mirror and don’t just see my flaws, or the extra pounds I want to lose.  I find the features that I love about myself.  I love mouth, the cupids bow of my top lip and the poutiness of my bottom lip.  I love the way my blue eyes give away exactly what I am feeling if someone cares enough to notice.  I love the natural arch in my lower back right above bubble butt.  I love my strong calves and the way they look in my sky high heels.

I now also really believe that I deserve more from men than what I have settled for in the past.  I believe I deserve to be asked out on a date, and have made it a requirement before I will even kiss someone.  Before I always wanted more, to be treated better, but I never demanded it. It is ok to weed out the frogs because I am not 22 anymore.  I don’t need to find a prince, but it is not too much to ask for someone that wants know how my day was.  Standards show that I love myself, and that I deserve someone else’s love.  

Loving myself is not easy, it is a constant struggle that I don’t always win.  I still am too quick to judge myself, but then I realize that the only person that hurts is me.  When I think I look fat in a dress instead of thinking it is unflattering that is just me giving into my insecurities.  No one is perfect, I am far from it myself, but even with my flaws I am a much better version of myself.  Social pariah or not, I am finally starting to see myself as a person of worth.  

Married Off

No one knows how to build you up or tear you down like your mother.  She can be your biggest cheerleader and your greatest critic, especially if you are Southern.  I am blessed with an incredible mother who encouraged me to move to DC with just a suitcase and a dream.  She has helped with rent so I don’t have to worry about getting stabbed every time I leave my apartment, and she buys a plane ticket when my homesickness gets out of hand.  She also does not hesitate to tell me that something used to fit differently (aka you have gained weight), I would look “disgusting” as a redhead, and if God wanted my hair curled he would have given me curly hair.  All out of love, or course.  

Since I turned 26, she has begun a new type of criticism mixed with guilt.  When we were talking the other day, she decided to bring up a guy from my hometown.  This guy is great, it is true, but my mom has been trying to get me to date him for a full decade.  He is now doing his residency post medical school.  Now, I will admit that I did try to date him in college, but he just wasn’t into it, or more accurately, oblivious to my efforts.  The rest of the conversation went as follows:

Harper: Mom, stop trying to marry me off!

Mom: You know I used to never understand those parents that tried to marry off their children.  Now I get it!  I just want you to be married.  I think a wedding would be fun!

Harper: Mom, yes a wedding would be fun.  You think I don’t want to be married?  It is not that easy.  I first need to find someone to date me.

Mom: I just don’t want your nieces to be my only grandchildren.  

It’s not like I don’t put enough pressure on myself for not being in a certain place in my life.  I do want to find a partner to spend the rest of my life with.  If I could will that to happen, I would be married already, but I can’t.  I have to let life run its course.  When I am ready, when my soulmate is ready, everything will fall into place.  Until then, I will have to deal with my mom trying to marry me off to the next “great catch” she discovers back in Mississippi.  

Her guilt trips sting more sometimes than others.  Last week, I found out that my high school love Daniel got engaged.  Daniel is, to this day, the longest and most serious relationship I have ever had.  Two years we were together, and I loved him.  He loved me, maybe more than I loved him.  I broke his heart twice, so it is only fair that when I fell back in love with him right after college that he broke mine.  I told him I loved him right before I was supposed to leave for DC.  I would have stayed if he had asked me to, but he told me to go, he told me we would only ever be just friends.  

I have loved a few people in my life, but Daniel is the only one of them who ever loved me back.  He loved me when I didn’t deserve it, and his heart broke at my hand.  I was young, scared, and didn’t appreciate the simple kindness of his love.  I often feel cursed, that I broke my first love’s heart, and therefore, every love after him will break mine.  Maybe he is the only person who will ever love me, the only person who will ever open their heart to me.  Now he is marrying someone else.  What if your person chooses someone else?  What happens then?  How do you survive if the only person that will ever love you chooses to stop loving you?  How do you move on from that?  

Maybe my mom is right for trying to marry me off.  Maybe I will never find love on my own.  It is quite possible that at 16 years old I threw away the only real love I will ever have.  

I am happy for Daniel.  I will always love him, and I am so glad he found his happiness.  I just wish I could find my own.

Caring: How to Stop

We spend so much of our lives worrying about what other people think.  I know I make myself physically sick sometimes worrying how other people perceive me, or thinking that I did something unpleasing to those I care about.  I worry about what the world thinks; I worry about rejection, sometimes so much so that the anxiety is overwhelming.  

I worry when my hair is not in place, and I don’t leave the house without makeup on.  I squeeze into Spanx everyday to make my curvaceous figure more appealing.  I worry that the number of men I have slept with is too high, and I also worry that no one will ever want to sleep with me again.  I worry that every time a boy kisses me, I am going to be added to his list of mistakes - the fat girl who he is ashamed he hooked up with.   

I worry about hurting my loved ones’ feelings, or being unable to please them.  I am a people-pleaser, so when someone rejects me, I look at it like I am unpleasing, I didn’t do what I am supposed to do.  As a Southern woman I feel that it is my job to make everyone feel welcomed, comfortable, and happy.  I want to be well-liked.  Not really out of ego, but out of anxiety.

Part of me has started to realize that I can’t please everyone.  I am human, and I make mistakes.  In trying to please the world, I have forgotten to please myself.  I am not saying I won’t take responsibility for my actions; I will apologize when I misbehave.  I just can not dwell on things I can’t change after an apology has been made.    

There is this movie that Anna and I are obsessed with caled “Bachelorette”.  (Spoilers to follow, kind of) It is a dark comedy starring Kirsten Dunst, Rebel Wilson, Isla Fisher, and Lizzy Caplan.  I have found my current life motto from this film.  If you know anything about the movie you might be like, “Really?”  Once you get past the cocaine, strippers, and outwardly fucked-up friendships/relationships, there is something deeper.  Really, it is the friendship between Kirsten Dunst’s character Regan and Rebel Wilson’s character Becky that brings about my new motto.  

At first, you think that Regan hates Becky, and you don’t realize why she is her maid of honor.  Becky (Rebel Wilson) is a heavier woman, and she is getting married to a smoking hot man.  It is obvious that Regan tries to be perfect, and her attempts come off as a cold hearted bitch, or maybe she is a cold hearted bitch.  She feels like she is the one who should be getting married, for several reasons that are not relevant here.  Then there is this moment when Becky catches Regan trying to purge because of stress, and you realize Becky and Regan share something much deeper.  They have a history.  In high school, Becky covered up for Regan’s bulimia and got upset when people spread rumors that it was her who was bulimic.  Regan had told her to “Fuck Everyone” and that was what Becky was telling her to do now.      

Right before Becky is about to walk down the aisle, she freaks out and says she can’t go through with it.  She looks at Regan and says, “Everyone thinks I am too fat to marry him.”  Regan grabs her by the shoulders, looked her dead in the eyes, and says “Fuck Everyone!”  

That’s it.  That is the key to finding my comfort and happiness - Fuck everyone!  Fuck the stupid jackass who, after weeks of flirting with me, told me he didn’t find me physically attractive.  Fuck the people at the state society picnic who looked at me like a leopard because I have put on 20 pounds since college.  Fuck D and the cloud of darkness he brought to my life for a year and a half.  Fuck the supposed friends who have alienated me, leaving me to feel unwanted and inadequate.  I have struggled with when to stop fighting to keep them and when to walk away.  Now is that time.  Too many people do want me in this world to focus on the ones who don’t.  Fuck the people who have or will ever call me fat.  I have spent too much time caring what the world thinks.  Too much time letting everyones’ opinions of me dictate who I am going to be.  Now is the time to worry about me - my wants, my needs, and what makes me happy!  Because I deserve to be happy.  I have not always thought that I did, but I know now I really do.                    

Bye Bye Bama

Two weeks.  All I have is two weeks to get Bama to kiss me.  He is leaving, moving back to Alabama.  My crush smothered just as it was beginning.  I had thought about what it would be like to flirt with him all summer.  To dance with him on some hot dance floor in the wee hours of a summer morning.  To splash around in a pool fully aware of when our bare skin would touch.  To kiss on my rooftop under the summer stars.  

Now if I do any of those things, it will be with someone that right now is nameless and faceless.  It won’t be with Bama, the boy whose crystal blue eyes have been haunting my fantasies since the day we met.  How do you say goodbye when you have barely finished saying hello?  

More so, I am sad for Hadley, who is losing one of her best friends.  It is so sudden.  Two weeks is all anyone gets.  It’s not even enough time to throw a party.  Goodbye parties aren’t really for the people they are thrown for.  The are for the friends of the person leaving, so they can make one last memory and smother their feelings with booze and cake.  Cake can solve just about anything, and if cake can’t solve it, surely booze can.  

One of the worst parts about living in DC is the fact that 50% of the people you meet won’t stay here.  Washington, for many people, is a pit stop necessary to the life they want somewhere else.  People come for a few years and get tired of the cutthroat mentality, so they head back to wherever home is.  Sometimes when people leave, you see it coming, and other times the news is like a sucker punch to the gut.  I consider myself a lifer.  When I look into the future, I don’t see myself anywhere else.  That is why it is hard for me to understand why some people choose to go back home because this is my home now.  

Now, I need to figure out my plan, come up with a strategy.  I only have two weeks before Bama heads back to the south, back to the world where only old people find me attractive.  I hate the idea of not being able to get what I want, and I want Bama.  I want to run my fingers through his hair and my hands along his muscular back.  I don’t want to have to imagine what kind of kisser he is; I want to know.  So, I need a plan.  Really, I just need to get myself in a room with him. I like to think that I have enough game that I can make moves, or hope that if in a room with me, he might want to make some moves of his own.   

It is funny how things change so quickly.  Just last week Bama was a symbol for possibility, and now he is bringing out desperation.  Possibility now has limits, a time restraint, a ticking clock slowly diminishing the free feeling of hope.  In the end, adding Bama to the long list of crushes that never reached their potential.

Skinny Day

As a perpetually chubby girl, my life is separated into two kinds of days - skinny days and everything else.  A skinny day is the type of day when you wake up and your skirt is looser, you have less backfat in your top, or you just feel more overall comfortable and confident in both your clothes and body.  A skinny day is a day that you actually like seeing your reflection in every mirror that you come across.   Last week I had a wonderful skinny day!  I tried on a skirt that had been a little too tight, and lo and behold, it fit just right.  My waist looked tiny, and even my boss told me I looked very nice.  

Anything can happen on a skinny day! When you feel good, then good things happen to you.  It is the kind of day when you say hello to the cute guy on the metro, or have a stranger buy you a drink.  It’s the kind of day when you make a new friend, kick ass at work, or have a hotty with potential ask for your number.  Life is full of infinite possibilities on a skinny day!    

My parents texted me, and told me, if my boss would let me off work,they would fly me home for Easter, no matter the cost.  My boss approved the time off, and I booked a flight home.  There are times when I miss the South, and most importantly, I miss my family.  My two nieces are growing up too fast.  I miss the familiar one-way streets of my small town, and the people I have known all my life.  Don’t get me wrong, I love DC and all that it has to offer.  I will never move back to my small hometown on the Mississippi River.  As charming and nostalgic as it may be to visit, I have grown beyond what it has to offer as a permanent home.  All the same, I am excited to be there for Easter, and that excitement helped build on an already wonderful skinny day.

My skinny day good fortune did not end there.  In my pursuit for everyday to be a skinny day, I went to Zumba with Lisa.  Lisa turned in her guest pass for a full-fledged membership to the gym, meaning I now have a permanent work out buddy!  My good fortune continuing, I got a $50 dues credit for referring her.  After our kick ass Zumba class, we went to the front desk so Lisa could arrange her free personal trainer session that came with her membership.  The trainer must be in need of clients, because he offered me a free session as well! You have got to love free things!  

A skinny day is the best kind of day.  For me, skinny days seem to be few and far between lately.  I am working to change that though.  Even though my body is nowhere near where I want it, I feel better about myself because I am going to the gym and trying.  Maybe I will never be as small as I was sophomore year of college ever again.  However, that doesn’t mean I can’t look beautiful, healthy, and even a little bit sexy.  

As y’all start your weeks, I wish you lots of skinny days full of confidence and possibility!  

The Parts I Left Out ...

When I told all of you about the many loves of my life, I left a few details out.  Since I described the heart wrenching details of the men that both had my heart and broke it, I have felt guilty.  The guilt is not because I shared them with you, but leaving out a few details about two of them.  

In the summer of 2011 Adam married, who I believe to be, a very lovely girl.  She does look a little like me though, a much thinner, more wholesome version of me.  It’s hard for me to admit that the person that I loved, maybe more than anyone else ever in my life, is married and very happy with someone else.  The day Facebook told me Adam was engaged was easily one of the top 10 hardest days of my life.  I try to remember him as the fun-loving future lawyer, who loved bourbon and 80’s cover bands.  Now he is a pastor, just like his father always wanted him to be.  The Adam I knew and loved only exists in my memories.  The pain of that maybe worse than anything else.  

Then there is the truth about Bryan.  When I wrote the earlier post, I knew Bryan was engaged.  I didn’t know that this past weekend, he got married.  Facebook, that beautiful beast, flooded me with pictures of the happiest day of Bryan’s life.  The hope that, by the time we tied the knot to our significant others, we would be reconciled is moot now.  We will never be more than two people that used to care about each other, and are now just friends on Facebook simply because not being so would be rude.  

Two of the men with whom I have been in love have since found the true loves of their lives.  These two have made the ultimate commitment to another human being, whereas I can’t seem to find a boyfriend. That is the part that I left out, the part that makes my lost loves seem more tragic, the part that makes the end of our stories so final. 

Quarter Life Crisis

I have quarter-of-a-century confusion.  The dreaded day when I truly become in my mid-twenties is just a week away.  My sense of life failure is starting to settle in.  Where I thought I would be at 25, and where I am are worlds apart.  I was supposed to be getting married to an incredible Southern gentleman, have an incredible job, and live in an incredible house.  Sadly, there are times when I feel that there is nothing incredible about my life, besides my incredible friends.

To be a single 25 year-old Southern woman is like being 40 living with 10 cats elsewhere in the country.  People start to wonder why no one seems to wants you.  You start to wonder yourself. I am a little lonely.  At 25 I was supposed to be waking up next to the person I love everyday, not my teddy bear.  (I have no shame in the fact that I still sleep with a Teddy bear.)

Sure, I am not married, or dating anyone.  Sure, my job is not what I thought it would be, and I am looking for a new one.  Sure, my rent is too high, but my apartment is pretty nice.  How could I know at 18 what I would want now?  It’s not that I don’t want all of the things I thought I would have, and just because I don’t have them at 25 doesn’t mean that I won’t find them eventually.  I know that.

There is one aspect that I wish I could change, one of which I am truly ashamed.  I am hung up on someone else's boyfriend.  When it comes to D, I hate that I cannot walk away.  The fact that seeing him makes my heart pound disgusts me.  Knowing that everyday I wish for his relationship to end pains me.  I am 25, and I still want this toy I can’t have.  Even though I know it’s not that black and white, I can’t help but fear that this is why I am alone.  This is why I am lonely.  I am not saying that I think he is the end-all-be-all, but I don’t know if I could ever find that person, if I still have the feelings for D that I have right now.

At 25, my heart was not supposed to break everyday.  

I know turning 25 is not the end of the world, and I should welcome my mid-twenties with grace.  I am sure my party is going to be a blast.  I love my birthday dress.  I have so many things to look forward to.  This year will be different for me, it has to be. 

Nashville Love

This week, I find myself listening to my favorite Nashville groups and missing my second favorite city.  If I didn’t live in DC, Nashville would be home.  I miss the creativity, but most importantly, I miss my best friend BethAnn!  BethAnn and I met in college, and it was like taking a big breath of fresh air.  We lived together in the sorority house our sophomore year, and she is the only person I was able to share a room with without going crazy.  She was supportive when I was in therapy for depression, and didn’t laugh when I started my sentences with “my therapist said”.   When I cried over a boy who I thought I was meant to spend the rest of my life with, she didn’t tell me I was wrong, just that it would work out if it was meant to be.  It wasn’t.  He is now married to a much skinnier girl that looks just a little bit like me, but that is another story.  

At the end of our sophomore year, BethAnn made a trip to Nashville with her family and fell in love.  I don’t blame her - Nashville is one hell of a city.  It was a time when she couldn’t decide what she wanted to do with her life, and thought about changing her major every other week.  When she decided to transfer to Belmont in Nashville, my heart broke a little bit.  I knew she had found what makes her tick, but I didn’t want to lose BethAnn.  Luckily we are kindred spirits who will always be close no matter the distance.  

It was my precious BethAnn that tempted me to Nashville, and the city itself that captivated me.  It’s a city that grips you by the soul and never lets go.  The talent at every turn is almost overwhelming.  On my many trips to my city of soul and mecca of creativity, BethAnn introduced me to some of my favorite musicians - some of whom you probably have never heard.  Once you have, you will want to tell everyone about them!  

1) Florida Georgia Line: This duo will keep you coming back for more with their high energy country music.  I first saw them perform in a writer's showcase close to 4 years ago.  Ever since, I have not been able to get songs like “Backwoods Beauty Queen” out of my head.  Not only are Brian and Tyler amazingly talented, they are really down-to-earth Southern boys.  I have crashed on their couch, walked around music row after a night at Tin Roof, and listened to them jam out in their living room.  Don’t just take my word for it.  Check out their music on iTunes or on their website.  http://floridageorgialine.com/

2) KingBilly: I am actually the one that introduced BethAnn to this band.  They played a country music festival in my hometown back in the summer of 2009, and I was immediately hooked.  This group of guys can rock your socks off with their country/classic rock fusion.  Then, the smooth voice of hottie lead singer Donny Fallgatter will melt more than just your heart.  I also had the pleasure of kicking back a few bourbon-and-gingers with this crew, and they are as cool as they are diverse.  You can take a listen at  http://www.myspace.com/kingbilly or get their EP on iTunes.  (Donny also has a few songs of his own http://facebook.com/donnyboot.)

3) Elenowen: You may have seen this duo perform on the 1st season of NBC’s The Voice.  This married couple has a finger directly on my heartstrings.  I spent my 23rd birthday in Nashville with BethAnn, and one of my gifts was Elenowen’s CD.  The next day, we went to one of their shows, and their harmonies brought tears to my eyes  Their music became a part of my everyday life.  When they made it on The Voice ,I was ecstatic.  Then Blake Shelton let them go in the second round, and I was mad at him for as long as anyone can be mad at Blake Shelton.  They have a new EP out that can be found on iTunes.  http://elenowen.com/

So, share the music, and if you have never been to Nashville ,make the time!  Music is a direct link to the soul.  It’s music that inspires me to write, to bare my soul (to the few of you that read my blog, thank you!), and maybe even embarrass myself from time to time.  God did not bless with me with musical abilities - karaoke proves that every week, but he did bless me with a true appreciation for music.  Thank you to the talented people in this world that share their gifts with the rest of us. 

Him

Have you ever had that boy you just can’t shake?  No matter how awful he has been you still talk to him.  Its not that you love him, but you just can’t NOT be attracted to him.  I have one of those boys in my life right now.  I had a crush on him for months and then he finally bought me a drink, walked me home, and kissed me.  There were flirty texts, some more kissing, and then of course the bomb - he has a girlfriend.  Our social calendars put us in the same place once a week and it is torture.

I look at him and I can’t help but think about kissing him.  Why do I do that?  He has a girlfriend yet one look from him and my whole body reacts.  The look in his eyes makes my heart hurt.  I wish I could shake him, shake the want, shake the heartbreak that he ensues.  Everytime I think I am over it he pulls me back in.  He gets jealous or he flirts and I am right back where we started.  Sometimes I wish I was the kind of girl that didn’t care about a man’s relationship status.  But I am not. The guilt I feel from just flirting with him is stifling sometimes.  I could drown in the hurt and self loathing.  

I wish I knew what he was thinking, what he is feeling.  It's hard not knowing what someone that you think about all the time is actually thinking about you.  Do they ever even think about you at all? It makes me hate him, but yet not enough to stay away.  How come I can’t stay away?  

I didn’t even know I found glasses sexy. That damn bow tie!  When he unties it, leaving it hanging from his collar, it is my achilles heel.  I want to grab it and pull him into me by the tie.  Even though it has been months, our steamy make out session on my front steps flashes through my thoughts frequently.  I even sometimes think I can still feel the stinging of my swollen lips when my mind transports me back.  

What is worse than anything else is the thought of not seeing him.  I hate the idea of him not being there every week.  I am a masochist.  I would rather torture myself than not have him look at me with that spark in his eye.  Sometimes I wonder if it is all in my head, if he really just looks at me the way he looks at everyone else.  The reality is I was just a mistake for him.  Months ago when I was skinnier, he made the mistake of kissing me.  He is my weakness and I am his mistake.  I can’t believe I just said that, admitted that.  

I will one day shake him I am sure.  I will find someone to kiss me and mean it.  When I do he will not put me through turmoil.  I will not drown in self loathing.  I will just be happy, someday.