When Will I Be Loved....
Last night was just fine. Things went OK. Mom had a bit of panic and couldn't find anything to wear and they (mom and dad) were pretty late. Resulting in a very cranky father and an anxious mother. I don't know what to do for her or them to make it better. Maybe she should talk to her doctor about it. Alzheimer's has been thrown around a bit. I think it's more acrophobia, but I'm no doctor. I don't know. She looked so pretty and her hair was all curled and nice and she was in tears. My heart breaks. I'm not ready for this yet. She is only 53 and I see her falling apart and us kids having to kiss it and make it better and my heart hurts and breaks. And at night, I cry because she is my mom and it shatters me to see her fall apart. It scares me to know that someday soon, the roles will be fully reversed and it will be my siblings and I holding her hand to cross the parking lot of life.
There is a new guy on the scene. Cowboy and smart and funny and cute (dimples!!). Oh God, he is cute and I want him for my own. A LOT. But it will never be and I will just take the ride, hitting all of the potholes and riding out the storms. I'll be full of unrequited feelings and I'll eventually be sad and lonely and feeling like I'll never find someone. Although... at one point, in a very candid and slightly distorted moment, I told him "Someday, you will love me" (re: my sarcastic humor) and he laughed, looked me straight in the eye and said "I probably will". O! Be Still my fluttering heart! More like O! Go hide your embarrassed ass! I really didn't mean it in the sense that he would LOVE, love me. Just that he would, one day, appreciate my humor. But he rolled with it, and god help me, I love a man that will save me from myself. Oh yeah, and the title of the post... song that he played over and over and would sing it out loud to me, with his smile and dimples flashing in the light. *SIGH*
My friend that broke his neck, chose last night, to broadcast it far and wide that he is "in love" with me. Why do these things happen to me? I love him, I do. I cried when he was away and I couldn't be with him, to help him, to take care of him when he first broke his neck. I cried myself to sleep when I thought that he would never again, saddle up and I hurt for him like I haven't hurt for anyone outside of my family in a long time. And part of me says, maybe that is enough. That you care for him and would cry for him when he is broken and down and out. Just let him love you and help you. I know that he will help me in whatever I ask him. I know that. I know that if things were different, he would be my perfect partner. But he isn't. He takes mucho risks with his life, over and over again. Case in point, the broken neck, a result of drunk driving and no seatbelt. He drinks TOO much. I drink a lot, by some standards. But by no means could I live with someone who is trashed four nights out of seven. And his loving me? It's a result of drunken midnight phone calls, hours spent debating and solving the world's problems. It's the result of hours spent on barstools, laughing and teasing and flirting. But it's nowhere near the sort of love that stable, consistent, healthy relationships are built upon. It hurts me to hurt him. I know though that if I were to cave and let him love me the way he wants to, that it would end badly and I can't afford to lose the kind of friend that he is. Poor guy. Besides the fact that his ex wife is still a part of his life, they still have issues and she is one big, bad mutha. She has let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she still considers him as her husband and no girl is welcome to the picking. So, yeah, course of action is... NONE. I will go on loving him the way that I do, although it isn't the kind of love that he wants from me, and never say never.
Little sister is well on her way to snagging herself a man. And he is sweet and cute and adorable, if not overly bright. He's a helluva nice man and I wish her and himself well. (See? Today, it doesn't bother me. I suppose because hope springs eternal. No matter how much I squash it, the hope that I, too, will be loved fucking comes back EVERY TIME.)
There is a new guy on the scene. Cowboy and smart and funny and cute (dimples!!). Oh God, he is cute and I want him for my own. A LOT. But it will never be and I will just take the ride, hitting all of the potholes and riding out the storms. I'll be full of unrequited feelings and I'll eventually be sad and lonely and feeling like I'll never find someone. Although... at one point, in a very candid and slightly distorted moment, I told him "Someday, you will love me" (re: my sarcastic humor) and he laughed, looked me straight in the eye and said "I probably will". O! Be Still my fluttering heart! More like O! Go hide your embarrassed ass! I really didn't mean it in the sense that he would LOVE, love me. Just that he would, one day, appreciate my humor. But he rolled with it, and god help me, I love a man that will save me from myself. Oh yeah, and the title of the post... song that he played over and over and would sing it out loud to me, with his smile and dimples flashing in the light. *SIGH*
My friend that broke his neck, chose last night, to broadcast it far and wide that he is "in love" with me. Why do these things happen to me? I love him, I do. I cried when he was away and I couldn't be with him, to help him, to take care of him when he first broke his neck. I cried myself to sleep when I thought that he would never again, saddle up and I hurt for him like I haven't hurt for anyone outside of my family in a long time. And part of me says, maybe that is enough. That you care for him and would cry for him when he is broken and down and out. Just let him love you and help you. I know that he will help me in whatever I ask him. I know that. I know that if things were different, he would be my perfect partner. But he isn't. He takes mucho risks with his life, over and over again. Case in point, the broken neck, a result of drunk driving and no seatbelt. He drinks TOO much. I drink a lot, by some standards. But by no means could I live with someone who is trashed four nights out of seven. And his loving me? It's a result of drunken midnight phone calls, hours spent debating and solving the world's problems. It's the result of hours spent on barstools, laughing and teasing and flirting. But it's nowhere near the sort of love that stable, consistent, healthy relationships are built upon. It hurts me to hurt him. I know though that if I were to cave and let him love me the way he wants to, that it would end badly and I can't afford to lose the kind of friend that he is. Poor guy. Besides the fact that his ex wife is still a part of his life, they still have issues and she is one big, bad mutha. She has let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she still considers him as her husband and no girl is welcome to the picking. So, yeah, course of action is... NONE. I will go on loving him the way that I do, although it isn't the kind of love that he wants from me, and never say never.
Little sister is well on her way to snagging herself a man. And he is sweet and cute and adorable, if not overly bright. He's a helluva nice man and I wish her and himself well. (See? Today, it doesn't bother me. I suppose because hope springs eternal. No matter how much I squash it, the hope that I, too, will be loved fucking comes back EVERY TIME.)
posted by Lori | 12:14 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home |