dreams. december 11th.

what is there to say?

i have broken his heart because he knows that i've at least entertained the idea of calling it quits.

there are some things to think about...

we are both lonely. we aren't feeling loved. or appreciated. we are both critics, defensive. flooded emotionally when we fight. not even fight. discuss. argue. whatever.

he took something i said as him holding me back.

because i said that i have a dream, too. and that i thought it would have happened by now. it was my birthday. and birthdays tend to be heavy times for me. when i evaluate my life and check its pulse and pressure. and then have a subsequent meltdown because of missed milestones that i'd wanted to have passed by now.

and that i can't accomplish my dream if i keep doing what i'm doing. that i was around people who were living their dreams this week, and that it was inspiring. and that it wasn't the first time.

he said on a 1 to 10 scale, that he is a 3 as far as how bad our issues are. and i said sometimes they're a 7 or an 8 for me, and sometimes only a 3 or 4, that it fluctuates. and he was so sad. because it doesn't feel that bad to him. and i don't know how he can be so lonely and feeling underappreciated, and not be so bad for him. maybe that it has something to do with him having it easier than me until now. and that i'm the one putting my dream off for him. and that i don't know if it would be different if he was letting me have mine, but that it probably wouldn't feel as bad.

he just didn't know or expect it. rightfully so. i mean, how could he? he didn't know.

but he did learn that he stonewalls me, which he says that i do, too. i only missed by one question, qualifying, so he's not so far off.

he wants me to see a therapist. he wants me to get medicated.

the thing is: we are both living these sad lives. and i don't want to be this sad all the time. i mean, just yesterday i was writing that i prefer being sad, because i am inspired when i'm heartbroken, and prolific. it's ok in small doses, but not on this scale. not swimming in it.

he minimized my going home to soul search and think. and discounted the time i spent there, down from trying to think outside the situation, to just hanging out with friends and family. he didn't understand my analogy. it's just an intense situation that you have to stand out of, so that you can figure out what's going on, what to do about it, and how to fix it.

what i know is this. i have made a pact with myself. in one year. if i am not happier than i am now, i will do something to change my situation. it is a generous amount of time, i thought. nina and my sister concur. i think i will have an idea by summer.

he is losing me. i've drifted so far away now that it would take heroic efforts to get me back. i don't know that there's any coming back from this. but i am willing to stick it out and try harder.

i know that my life has changed. i know that i figured out so many things about myself. maybe it was kenna's story. about being married for so many years, realizing that she wasn't in love and couldn't keep doing it, and that she wasn't happy. i want to say that she said that, within 6 months, it was over. and that it wasn't until then that she could really learn who she was as a person. and that it was when she was either 32 or 33.

i know that i want to travel more. i know that i have fun with my family. that i love being home. that home is where my family is, not where i live now. i know that i was too excited to sleep, days before i went home. that i didn't waste time sleeping while i was there. i only got an average of 4 hours of sleep a night, for 6 nights in a row. that when i left there, i cried inconsolably. and that i was filled with dread at returning here. and that when i arrived, i cried three times, because i was back to this life.

i am so full of life. i need so much more than this. i need love, and fun. that i love to be in the sun, and near the water, and that i always give that up for him. i know that i love the beach and traveling. that i love road trips and mini adventures. that i love being with my family and my nina, and that i don't want to spend so much time away from them. my grandparents are all getting so old, and i know i don't have much time left. and that i hate losing time with them by being here.

i don't want to move home. i did for a minute there. at first, because it's instinctive. but also, to go back to school and get a business degree to put myself in a better position for what i want to do someday. which feels like it is getting further away. but i don't think that's a viable option.

i guess that i thought i'd be somewhere else in my life right now. and i told him that it's not that i want to be alone or somewhere else with someone else (which, unfortunately, is not true, but i couldn't tell him that, and won't ever), but that i chose this path with him, and it didn't lead where i thought it would. that in the beginning of the path, i didn't realize what i was giving up by choosing a different path. that it's not that i think my life would be better, just different. that i've always had this dream, and that i can visualize it, and that i want it, and that nothing i'm doing right now is going to lead me there. and that i can wait. and that i will wait, and that i have waited.

and also that i don't think that if the roles were reversed, and he was waking up and going to work everyday, that i'd be magically happy. but that it would probably make me a 3 and him the 7. he tried to say again that he didn't know that there were money issues, which i corrected. again. because he said he knew when we bought the house that everything stopped flowing in.

i hate that part of my parents' support for this rethinking phase of my marriage involves him not having a clock in job. my dad really takes an issue and knows not to ask me, but still does mention it from time to time. and i know that he thinks about that alot.

i just feel right now that i married the wrong guy. nina said something so valid, that it bears repeating. she said that, the day of my wedding, she knew me really well, and that she didn't have this feeling. i was marrying this guy that she didn't really know very well, and she didn't have that general feeling of him being the perfect guy for me, and that it didn't make sense to know me for so many years, and not to think 'THIS is the guy she's supposed to marry.'

i had that feeling at her wedding. but she didn't have it at mine.

and that meant alot, in hindsight. of course, i had no idea at the time, and maybe she didn't either, yet, consciously. but she said it to me when i saw her, and it made too much sense.

i just got tired of waiting for the boy i was supposed to marry. i was in some rush to do this, and i don't know why. it makes me want to yell at young girls who run around so excitedly at their bachelorette parties. don't do it. just wait. there is no rush. don't do it.

i have this guy friend who told me a few years ago that he never wanted to be married. and i could never understand that. i really struggled with it, because he is such a good friend, and so much like me, and i didn't get why he would feel that way. he is SUCH a catch.

and it was just a matter of time. i really feel now like i should only have been married when i wanted to have a baby. i don't even know why, maybe traditional standards. but until then, if that day ever came, i shouldn't have been.

and i don't think that i would choose it again, if this does in fact end.

this isn't some tiny little daydream. the book i got for kit said that something like 72% of women think about leaving their husbands, while only like 28% of men think about leaving their wives. i wish i had the book in front of me. i mean, these poor women. who never do anything to change their situation, except think.

honestly, in my mind and heart it is over. because i knew when i came back that i can't be happy with him, not like i was, not like i want to be. he isn't it for me, and he doesn't do that to me. i had a little taste, a sip, of that feeling. for one night. and it made me thirst for it again. like, i really WANT it for myself.

and i can only picture seeking it out initially in the same old way, pseudo-obsessing again, living back home for a bit to feel it out, only i want to leave there. i want to run away. i want to go on a road trip, and start over somewhere else. and i want to take that boy with me.

i know that i am acting stupidly, on a whim. because of the way i can still feel inside, given the right person and situation. because this, immediately, is based on a falsified feeling, gleaned to get a reaction out of me. i am such a pro at reacting. at times, he's been like a puppeteer. and i wanted so badly to think that he had changed, and that he meant what he was saying. enough to do something about it. but it didn't happen. and i wasted a birthday cake candle wish on him. again. for maybe the sixth birthday of my life. all those wasted wishes, all those years wasting away.

and i don't think it will ever happen. in fact, i have been telling myself that i will probably never see him in person again. just to try to calm my fleeing mind. because i can't let myself go there. but everything in me is trying to trick me into doing it. all these little seeds that were planted years ago. weeding them for years, but never growing the plant. and never discarding it either.

it's keeping me up at night.

'and there's no blame
for how our love did slowly fade...
and now that it's gone,
it's like it wasn't there at all.
and here i rest
where disappointment and regret collide,
lying awake at night.'

that ben gibbard. <3

a last cigarette before i end this. i have to limit myself. tomorrow is going to be a big day for me, a long day. and i want to be well rested. one more day until i can sleep away part of my day.

i have so many things to say now. i want to write them all out because they are so real. fresh wounds. and i'm learning so much about myself. i love to write. in a few weeks, i'll be making art again, with kit. and starting to plan my path to my dream.

and whoever walks down the path with me, if i'm not alone, will not be there unless they are helping me get to my destination. because life is too short.

it's too short to give up on pieces of yourself that define you, and that always have.

i'd like to think that i'd just want to be alone. for a long time. but that when i was ready that i'd be thinking this way:

i'm in search of one hopeless romantic who doesn't think that the world lets you live on our love alone, but who wants to see me through. who makes me melt again, the places that have frozen over. to inspire me, and make me better. to bring me up, not hold me back. not drag me down. i want to be free to go and see things and just wander around.

i'm mentally and emotionally exhausted. and so much smarter now.

rtw 21 wishes 12/2/9

i wish my life was easier.

i wish i had more money.

i wish i could be successful at doing my own thing.

i wish i could go back in time.

i wish i wasn't filled with regret and doubt.

i wish i had met my soulmate. or if i did, i wish i would've known it.

i wish i was happy. i wish i had fun.

i wish i could go dancing and drinking more often.

i wish i could be a famous writer.

i wish i had musical talent. i wish i wasn't afraid to sing in front of people.

i wish i was young again.

i wish for more wishes.

i wish i could travel more.

i wish i could make out. i wish i could be kissed.

i wish that mike and amber hadn't died. and i wish that heroin didn't ruin the lives of people i knew and loved. and know and love.

i wish that i'd known. i wish that i'd known about the notes. i wish that i'd known about anyone who held back and didn't want me to know.

i always wished for love on birthday candles. i can't remember anything tangible i ever wished for on my birthday. it was always about unrequieted love, i was practically a professional.

rtw 18

rtw 18 12/2/9


the way velvet feels, and how you describe other things by saying they're like velvet or velvety

sandpaper's abrasiveness, and how it makes things smooth. grit. rough. harsh. cutting.

the way a worn pair of jeans feels. thin cotton shirts.

how a person feels

soft skin. the skin smooth that runs between the hips and abs. the little carved out valley.

lips. plump. fleshy. soft.

tickly eyelash fluttering on your cheek

hugging a person

skin on skin

round shoulders, pointy elbows

stubble on an unshaven face.

understand through texture:

for me, it's about how things feel. not literally, but how it feels inside to do something. whatever that is.

rtw 48


101 places i want to go:

(x2 means i've been there before, but want to go back. CAPS means i want to go more so than other)

melbourne australia

sydney australia


south of france




san francisco x2


new york city x2

guggenheim museum



mexico (cabo?)

virgin islands

sanibel x2

chicago x2




st louis

six flags

busch gardens va x2

kings dominion

mall of america

disney land

magic mountain?


29 new delhi india





grand canyon x2




machu pichu perus













barcelona spain

madrid spain





53 portland or

cape cod

portland, me

salt flats

burlington vermont

upstate new york





the moon

hershey park

celestine prophesy cities

coffee's place

tap room

68 shambala

dc x2

new orleans x2

death valley


no cal (san luis obispo)


providence ri

76 boston

set of the office

ani concert

tori concert

sigur ros concert

bjork concert

day spa

hot springs


bed & breakfast



las vegas

florida keys


great barrier reef



94 new zealand


white water rafting

lazy river tubing




san juan

coney island


something happened. something that is both good and awful.

because for an hour, i felt the happiest i'd been in ten years' time.

and because i went on this little mission to do some very real soul searching. and i was severely wishing that i'd get over an age old love for coffee. the person, not the ground up beans. i feel it necessary at this time to also declare that the beans are responsible for the title of this blog, NOT the person.

i'm going to be so tired tomorrow. but i'm going to try to get over that, because all i want to do is write. and type. for DAYS.

i don't even know where to start, really. i mean, all of my best things were about him. he is my ultimate muse. and not in the cheesy, movie plot way. i literally become a flood of words at the mere thought of him. and apparently, some things never change.

in my daydreams of him, we're only hanging out innocently as friends, the way that we were so many years ago. but he wants to know everything, and i want to tell him everything and know everything, and i want to start with music.

i was left with an image that was both glorified and rusty, in my mind. how i remembered him, how he appeared in my dreams and daydreams and the nightdreams that keep you up at night. the him of 9 years ago.

but, in person. living, breathing, twinkly eyed warmth brimming over with hugs for me and eyes for me, and hanging on every word. my open mouthed gasps over his 'i know. i KNOW' comments. over things that no one else might be so into. but that were always for me, and to a greater extent, him.

i started this mini-obsession about 2 months ago, if i had to guess. the monster obsession, about 12 years ago. the mini obsession involves a truly amazingly mind-blowingly incredible show called the universe that hulu graciously posts for repeated viewings.

the first couple were average-ish for me. i was getting lost, i was unable to focus on it, without my mind wandering to another place and time, trying to relive moments.

but something happened. the moon. mars. jupiter. saturn.

the moon, three times. mars twice. jupiter twice. saturn, indefinitely.

watching these history channel documentaries cracked my mind wide open to a whole set of things that i'd been taught in something like the third grade. those rediculous coat hanger styrofoam solar system mobiles. my very educated mother just served us nine pies. they teach you nothing about what is really going on out there. in deep space:

how many earths fit in each planet. how many orbiting moons the planets have. the fact that planets aren't all solid masses, that some are gasses. they never taught me that. and they have moons nothing like ours, that orbit them, with frozen water, looking exactly like a snapshot of earth, at some time in its life.

one night, two weeks ago. watching saturn for the umpteenth time. cgi pullaway effect. leaving the surface of earth, looking out into space, showing saturn just sitting there. in the middle of the fucking UNIVERSE. just hanging there. suspended in the air.

and suddenly...it started to sink into my brain. the sheer unbelievable-ness of it. some huge fucking ball of swirling gas with rings (that aren't rings at all - just particles spinning around at thousands of miles per hour), just rotating in vast fucking NOTHINGNESS, 20 or 30 years worth of traveling to arrive at it, sometime in the 2020's, via satellite.

i stopped believing in god at that exact moment. a slave of science. of astronomy.

back to the story at hand. present day.

so there i was. on a saturday, aptly, perfectly. the namesake of the planet saturn (*i learned of this from the documentary). i had put myself together this night, in such a way that i felt like i looked as incredible as i felt. for the first time in probably 8 years, maybe longer. i felt GOOD. and i looked adorable. and this is not something that i would ever admit aloud. i never feel like i look cute. but this night? well, this night, i knew it. a total makeover. put together by my mother. because she knew how much i needed it.

and i arrive to the bar. to nina's group of three, with my legal little sister in tow for the first time, ever.

lemondrops for three. long island iced tea from my sister to me. and a second from me, to be shared.

next group of three arrives. talking. a party of one - all of the oldest friends, from 13 years ago. talking about the past 13 years that we'd missed.

and nina's face lit up so much, so suddenly, that i thought the person she was looking most forward to seeing had showed. i turn my entire body to the person she is beaming at. searching, searching, searching. for what felt like 10 seconds, but was really probably only 3, for recognition.


coffee. right there, standing in front of me. smiling at me. i was at such a complete and total loss that i don't remember if there was an immediate hug or not.

there was small talk, during which i didn't catch any of what was said. well, very little. what i got was that two months ago, he was within 20 city blocks of me. and i didn't know it. other than that, names were escaping me left and right. i was catching scarce details of his career since i'd left off.

luckily, nina was paying very close attention, filing away little bits of information that she would reproduce later, when she created the most amazing evening of my life in the last nine years.

he got pulled away, stuck in other conversations with more recent friends. my interaction with him was very limited, and left one million questions in my mind.

he left. and i cannot explain it. though he said he'd be back, and i was feeling something that was beyond genuine intention, i knew he wouldn't come back. i forced myself to not turn to watch as he left out the door and walked quickly away to the right, in his fast paced theatrical shuffle. i only allowed myself to see his blur moving away from me, out of the corner of my eye. and i couldn't contain my smile. i was lit, and lit up from the inside out in two ways, and i didn't care who knew. and then there was a very calm feeling that came over me, as i thought, 'this isn't over yet, there will be more to this.'

the evening wore on. two hours of catching up with old friends, and two blue moons later, the party is over. we are weary from opening the bar and trying to keep up with drama, loudly, for hours. exhausted and in need of a change of scenery, and fresh air to smoke in, nina suggests taking a walk around the avenue. so we pack up and go.

she name-dropped the bar where he said he was headed, on a very specific mission to find this boy for me so that i can ask him why he never kissed me. and as we walk up to the bar, he is shuffling our direction, from somewhere else. he swoops in, all 'hey', and nina says they're on their way, and the three leave, in my mind, linked three arm in arms.

leaving me. and my sister. and him. standing in front of me.

(i was incredibly drunk. i rarely drink. i'd never had a long island iced tea before, much less, two. my memory of the events might not be entirely accurate. but this is exactly how i'm remembering it. and documenting it for posterity.)

and this boy, asking me what we're doing. i don't know what i said, but it was immediatley followed by something like a, 'come on.' and trying to keep up in drunken heels, a pace too quick, too excited. while he tried to grasp the fact that i'd been married. for a decent chunk of time, which he repeatedly called a decade. stopping in the middle of the street to stare at me in disbelief.

we three stepped into the dark bar.

and up to the bar to get a drink after a brief introduction to a man at the door. it's an hour before last call.

when i offered, my sister refused one, instead took my camera, and the sweater i was too warm for, off my arm. and walks out of my sights, leaving me alone to relish the moment. to connect. again. flashes flashed twice. and she was gone.

she was making sacrifices for me. for the night that she knew that i so desperately needed. entertaining herself for my happiness. my elation. instead of letting me take her out for her 21st drinks.

and they (the sacrifices) are still making me cry, thinking about what an awesome sister i have anyways, but how completely selfless she was right in that moment. and how she instinctively knew what to do.

and he showed a vulnerability for the first time ever, to me. after being the one to come to me, for the first time ever, only a couple hours before.

due to my drunken heels, i was taller than him. and he didn't remember me being that way, and said so. with a dissatisfaction in his voice. i kicked them off and put his arm on my shoulder, showing him the way he used to place his arm.

to lean on me, chest against my back, chin on the top of my head. i have never been able to get it out of my head. and on this night, the same elbowed triangles that used to lean onto me to hold him up in cold doorways when he was tired and just wanted to go home and drink wine with me. they were on my shoulder, at the accurate height, where i'm at least four inches shorter than him.

so he buys me a beer. and i lean toward the bar, to level the field. and we talk, taking turns, about pets, and jobs, about the place that we call 'home'. and about 'the universe'. how i have been up for weeks watching, and how he has one waiting for him at home. our biggest commonality of nights past, laying on my down blanket in his grass, his driveway; on his bed with our heads sticking out his bedroom window, stargazing for hours and counting falling stars.

and nina was so afraid of me missing a chance, and forming a new regret with him. i had intended to ask him why he'd never kissed me, in our nights of sleeping together for weeks on end. and i was drunk enough to ask. hands DOWN.

the night before i left for this trip, kit came to hang out and see me off. we talked of telescopes and my recurring nightmares, and 'the universe'. and about making a date for dark sky park for the upcoming quadrantids shower. it was the topic of conversation.

but with all there was to be said for 'the universe', and our intentions regarding the universe, and his experiences that left me dumbfounded. including the one where he told me of his telescope that points to planets and stars on command. and i asked if he could see saturn. and he said, 'yes.' and all i could do was shake my head in jealousy and disbelief.

time passed, topics changed. flowed flawlessly from one thing to the next. not a single awkward gap. only momentary pauses in conversation to hug me and tell me how happy he was to see me, and how much he'd missed spending time together.

the lights flickered off and on, signaling last call. minutes later, they came on and stayed on. and i was trying to focus on his eyes, and on his words, his lips as he made them. and i couldn't. i was spinny. dizzy from drinking, and from being with him. eyes dart from eye to eye to eye to eye, nose, lips, mustache, beard, lips, nose, eye to eye and over again. searching his face for some hint. some sign. that i wasn't making it up. that he was as happy and excited as i was. not like i was the same sad little puppy following.

and seeing his face in that bright, tell-tale light. the one that means, 'take a good look, make sure that you know what you are doing, and then leave together.' his face in all that light, with all of its imperfections. it had never looked better. NEVER.

i need to say something here. either he is really good at his game, or something else was going on. we hugged for minutes. just like we used to. more than once. a hug that made me feel whole again.

i nearly couldn't force myself to let go. and why i didn't try to kiss his cheek and drunkenly miss? well, i'll never know, because i always think of these things two days later, when i'm awake and can't sleep at night. right now.

it was over. the magic. the coincidences that put us together for that blink of time. the rush of it all.

but something happened:

he asked how long i was in town, and for my number. and called my phone so i'd have his. and i couldn't do it. in those last, fleeting, dreaded seconds, i couldn't ask him why he never kissed me. for fear of fucking up something in the next two nights. i couldn't ask a stupid question like that, signaling to him that yes, i had thought about him and those non existent kisses for the past 12 years. it couldn't happen in that moment. i chickened out, on a gamble. for more time spent before i left town for eight more months.

i turned away from him. and did not look back to see if he watched me leave. trying to be strong, but feeling incredibly weak and as though i was floating out into the street on a bursting drunken bubble.

i waited 40 hours. then i asked him to show me saturn for my birthday. and he did not offer. and i left, heartbroken as always. by the boy with the hold over me. the one who rocks me. who still has it after all these years. who makes me happier in those tiny moments than anyone could, doing anything for me, for the rest of my life.

i know that it isn't over yet.


we were holding hands. old friends who had other intentions for each other, but who had never actually followed through. we were in a bar, in my new town. it was our second beer of 12% abv. 'hey...' slightly slurry, waited a second, 'why didn't you ever kiss me?'

i'd been practicing. saying it without a quaking voice. which i nailed at this opportunity. but also, had made up a little pneumonic device for myself. for gauging his reaction, the immediate one, and the secondary, verbal one.

look, wait, listen, eyes.

i think i mouthed it, waiting for him to answer me.

look in his eyes when you say it. look for that twinkle.
wait for the pause, count the milliseconds as he edits his words.
listen to the words he chooses, and what he puts emphasis on.
show him for a full second, with your eyes.

twinkle. definitely. one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, really? that long? what's going on in there?? 'i...i don't know.' eyes show warmth, tearing up in expectation.

he repeated, 'i don't know.'

'but would you? right now. if you could. if you thought i wanted you to.'

'i don't know.' this time, laughing a little, only the tiniest bit exasperated.

'well,' gauging, gauging. safe? 'i wish that you would.'

he just sat there, holding my hand, which was sweating. 'come on.'

we got up, he led me quickly out the door and to the left, for a walk in a winter night that was much warmer inside the bar. he didn't drop my hand.

'why would you do that? this is so good. let's just stay the way this is, right now.'

but i didn't want to. my face fell, he saw it, too. and i didn't want him to. he'd conditioned me to not tell him how i really felt, not in elaborate analogies, drummed up by him as some stupid test that told him to break it off and disconnect and let me fall away again, so that i'd always be trailing him.

'i've been making pretty big decisions lately. and this is going to be the next one. i want you to kiss me, right now, becuase you want to. but only if you want to. and only if you mean it.'

and he did. right there. in the middle of the sidewalk, under a streetlight that had been standing there for a hundred years or more. though it didn't last as long as i'd wanted, there was enough of a sweetness that showed me that he meant it.

and he led me by my hand again. he didn't know where he was going, at least i didn't think that he did. we were walking to the prettiest park, nestled in the belly of my big city. i'd been there so many times, almost only wishing that he would someday be there with me. it was my dream. i'd given it up years ago, tired of waiting for him, but the park was a more recent dream of only the last six years.

his pace slowed. we'd walked blocks in silence. my mind was racing, my heart in my throat. i could hardly breathe the cold air burning my face and lips and lungs. we sat in the grass. reclined on our backs, the padding of our winter coats protecting us from frozen blades of dead grass that was green only weeks before.

we stared at the sky, holding hands. i was whole. it started to snow.