Soon you’ll be okay.

Every now and then, just outside my window, below my balcony, a middle-aged man grabs his saxophone and plays it loudly in the park across the street from my place. He is doing so now. He is an angel, he must be. Hearing that sweet sound, those soulful notes, the way they linger in the air, is what I need. Now there’s another man, letting the lone musician know that it sounds good and that he should keep playing all night. I need that too. Strangers being kind to one another, complimenting each other, without invitation, without compensation.

Thank you, my angels.

Life is so beautiful.

I have always thought it so. I have always gazed at the world around me with awe. It still impresses me, even after nearly thirty-three years. I took two of my pets to work with me today, and kept going over to them because animals never fail me. They amaze me every day. Gosh, they are just so cute and how lucky am I to be able to bond with them? Isn’t it astounding? How is that angel making such beautiful music? How is the sun still shining mightily when it is nearly 8 pm? Can I truly be blessed with such friends and family? Why do people consistently come to my aid when I am in need? Why are they so unexpectedly nice to me? Strangers, too!

It is all so beautiful. It overwhelms me, yet I cannot get enough of it.

Which is why I struggle to understand why anyone would take his or her own life.

This week was rough. We lost a good one, humans and animals. We lost a beautiful soul, the sweetest of spirits, one who certainly did not deserve to hurt, not the way she must have in the end, not ever. Now, I hurt for her. I hurt and hurt and hurt.

Death is shitty. It is terminal, it is permanent, and it is devastating. I am atheist, I do not believe in an afterlife, I do not think that she has found freedom nor that she is finally “living” happily somewhere. She is dead. The one life she had is now over, her one shot at happiness has come to an end, and my heart is crushed fearing that she never experienced it. Maybe she had moments of it scattered throughout her lifetime, right? Maybe I should take comfort in that. Because this bullshit that I might see her again is just that. Bullshit.

What the fuck, life? As beautiful as you are, what is this?

 

 

 

 

Last week, I finished watching 13 Reasons Why on Netflix. I was captivated, episode after episode, scene after scene. I could never say that I enjoyed it necessarily, but I do not regret watching it. There are certain stories that need to be told, truths revealed, issues to be faced. I was moved.

Shortly after watching the series, I noticed a series of tumblr posts by a friend I admire and adore. They were morbid. They invited and welcomed death. Some were self-deprecating. Worry for this friend came over me.

Then, Chris Cornell took his own life. But why? Really? Why? No, it’s too tragic.

Then, my friend. Then, a colleague and former client.

May 2017, you suck.

 

 

 

 

I need a break. I need a break from social media. I uninstalled Instagram and Snapchat from my phone. I deactivated my Facebook, but did so rather hastily. I have since logged back in to gather information on groups that I am a member of before I peace out again. All my protests, gatherings, meetings are listed on Facebook. How will I learn about them now? I could also take a break from my activism as well. I simply stay too busy.

This, too, is a result of not believing in an afterlife. I feel it so necessary to cram as much as I can into the only life I will ever have. I need to see everyone, spend time with those I love as frequently as possible, I must hurry and save the world. The world only gets me for a limited amount of time, I cannot let it down. I have to do it all! All of it! Now or possibly never. Nothing is guaranteed, have we not all learned that lesson?

Fuck it, though, I am going to take a break. It’s decided.

I have already started to, actually. I never got too far with learning videography and film editing because someone with actual experience stepped up to volunteer. That freed me up. Most of my activism as of lately revolves around making phone calls to my congressman’s office every Monday, which is a rather easy task. That is pretty much it. I will get a break from that with Memorial Day coming up. Those phone calls can make me angry, I admit and you can probably imagine. Break from those? Yup!

Break from everything but love and light.

 

 

 

 

 

I am hoping to soon figure out what my next move will be. Where do I want to focus, how do I want to honor Beautiful? What will heal the world, and dammit Daisy, sometimes you need healing too! Be selfish and look out for yourself too, lady. You have to come back strong like the bad bitch you were destined to be.

Thank you, you who stand by me and support me and come to my rescue. I love you all. You especially. You did not have to do that. Not any of it. But you did. You are good to me. You are good.

Everyone else, I love you, too. If you are reading this, I love you. You are welcome to my home, to my sofa, to my hugs, to my friendship. I will lend you my ear, my advice, my care. If it is parental advice you seek, I cannot help you, but you can borrow my parents. Many do. I do not mind sharing. You can also come over and let my critters love on you. They are the friendliest little loves. They will make you smile, I promise.

It is not for me to understand why you self-harm or consider suicide an option. You do not owe it to me to help me understand. What I owe you is assuring you that you do not need to be ashamed. Your way of coping differs from mine, and that’s that. It is okay to talk about it, to seek help. Your battle is unique, but you do not have to go through it alone. I know that you can’t just get over it or forget about it and move on. Anyone who expects that of you is clueless.

I love you, okay? Take care and be kind.

Especially to yourself. ❤

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The best week

Here I am again, ending another year.

I tend to spend about a month anticipating the last week of the year, preparing for it, building it up. Then it hits, with ridiculous excitement and an abundance of love, I am overwhelmed and overjoyed – Christmas, Dustin’s birthday, our anniversary, New Year’s Eve – all crammed into one short week. And just as quickly as it arrives, it passes. The new year begins, and I am left thinking, “Now what?”

The truth is that I despise the beginning of the year. I realize that many see it as an opportunity for a fresh start and all that nonsense, but I don’t. One can create a new beginning at any point, not just January. I instead see the first few months of the year as underwhelming in comparison to December, bleak and desolate by cause of the dreary weather, and seemingly never ending as I await all that is wonderful about springtime (blooming flowers, longer days, warmer weather, baseball, etc, etc…).

It just seems as though there is nothing for me to be excited about throughout January and February.

I suppose I could set new goals for myself, not necessarily as resolutions, but because I recently met my marathon goal and need something else to keep me busy. Just last week I was sitting outside eating lunch with my coworker (friend, really) when I noted that my one-year anniversary of working at ADC was coming up. This led us to reflect on the year that has passed, all we have achieved, what we would have liked to achieve, and what we see ourselves striving for in the upcoming year. That’s a lie. He talked about his planned endeavors, lofty and inspiring they be. Me? I got nothing.

What to do, what to do.

Study and refresh my memory enough to retake national boards and finally get my license? I allowed my registration to expire years ago because I was broke and unsure about what I wanted to do with myself. But now may be the time to smarten up and get it done. I always yearn to be a more creative person. Perhaps I could take up art journaling, combining that with writing, drawing, photography, and calligraphy? Health and fitness-wise, how do I top running a marathon?! Improve on my time? Get as close to a Boston-esque pace as I can? Train for a duathlon perhaps? I’d have to get a proper bike for that… Yikes. I should probably stick to running and only cycle for funsies.

Meh, I will figure it out. It took half a year to decide to run Dallas, after all. We shall see.

For the present moment, I will continue to focus on this week and all the celebrating left to do. My bestie also happens to be back from Colorado and I am anxious to see her and play catch-up. I am hoping that we can reunite tomorrow.

Today has been somewhat uneventful, which is probably a good thing. Last night, my fella went out with friends while I stayed home for a quiet night in. I made myself dinner, watched an HBO documentary, did some light cleaning, and simply relaxed (yes, cleaning is relaxing to me because catharsis, you know?). I went to bed a little past midnight – the fella and I had taken naps together in the afternoon so I was not terribly tired – and looked forward to an early start to the following day.

It was not to be.

According to my phone’s log, I took a call from the fella at 2:22 am this morning. He asked me to help him – he was outside, not far from our apartment, and had apparently taken a nasty spill. There is a pond in the center of our complex, below what I consider ground level (i.e. the level upon which the apartment buildings are standing). A path leads from the leasing office, where Dustin’s Uber driver dropped him off (hooray for him being responsible and not driving, right?), to the lot in front of our building. The path is actually part of a retaining wall and along it is a five to six-foot vertical drop down to the pond’s level. Not very safe for lonely, inebriated men trying to get home in the pitch black night. One misstep over the ledge and down you go…

Poor fella.

When I reached him, he was lying on his back and moaning in pain. It took all I had in me to help him up and start making our way home. He told me his right ankle was too painful and that he could not bear weight on it so I had him throw his right arm around me and bore the weight for him. What a task!

I cannot lie, I was extremely annoyed. I had been awakened from my sleep to deal with drunkenness. Of course, he was belligerent, too! Once inside our place, he immediately allowed himself to fall to the floor, which further infuriated me because I knew I would have to do the work to get him up all over again. I wanted to scream at him to get his shit together and get himself to our bed.

Oh, but his face was one as full of sorrow as it was of pain. How many times has he dealt with my own inebriated shenanigans? And is this not our week? The week we celebrate finally meeting and starting our relationship? Our relationship that has been through so much turbulence in its nearly six-year length, yet still manages to work somehow and generate happiness. We may not be married (not complaining, just stating the fact), but in sickness and in health, yes?

I helped him to bed, removed his shoes, and asked if he had hit his head. He was ranting about the night he had, so I chose not to bother with trying to get an answer out of him and instead checked his head for injury myself. I got a little peace of mind from not finding any evidence of wounds and decided that it was safe for him to sleep. After repeated apologies to me, he finally succumbed and was silent.

This morning, I walked to the store to buy him a Naked Juice to help with his hangover and Advil to help with his injury. It was not his ankle that was hurt – it was his foot. That thing is so swollen it looks like Bobby’s feet from Bobby’s WorldA short while ago, I taped it up to hopefully get the inflammation to subside. [sigh]

He is so lucky I love him.

But I am also lucky to have him.

Hmm. Suddenly, I am more excited to celebrate him and celebrate us. I think we’re gonna make it, that guy and me. The uncertainty that reigned over me this year is finally waning and I find myself being reminded of all the reasons I fell for him in the first place. He… He has been more mindful, I must say. I needed that. It has made all the difference and I feel the next phase of our romance making its welcome debut.

Yes, I needed that.

Half-anniversary

Tomorrow, the boyfriend and I will complete yet another six months together. Sixty-six months altogether. A total of 2,008 days. Five and a half years. But who’s counting anyway?

This year has actually been a bit rough on us as a couple. Things have felt… “off”. There has been a sort of disconnect or lack of chemistry, I have felt an unwelcome distance between us, and we have argued over trivial things. [sigh] That’s all normal in long-term relationships. The honeymoon phase ends and real life bitchslaps hard enough to cause the butterflies to be forcefully expelled from your stomach. It’s what was to be expected, is it not? I see other couples go through this and much worse. It’s not so bad with us, right? These are all things I keep telling and asking myself. Clearly I need further convincing.

Ugghhhh.

Should I hold my relationship to a higher standard? That might be ridiculous and unreasonable. But I don’t want to settle either. Can’t things be better? Why aren’t things better? We have talked and talked and talked numerous times this year. All very honest and open conversations. We should be better. Man, oh, man. Relationships are work.

That’s the thing, though. We are both willing to work. We are not willing to give up on us. We love one another. My goodness, I am certain that he would have ditched me a LONG time ago if he didn’t love me! I am something else!

So tomorrow… tomorrow is another milestone for us. And while we may not make a big celebration out of it, I will be happy. I will be proud of us. I will be thankful for him and for what we have together. I will even give him a small gift… Because I am a goober.

Poor guy is in love with a goober. 🙂

Dustin loves Daisy

We say the words to each other so often, multiple times a day. I love you. We don’t say them so much that they have lost their value, though. I know that when we both say them, we both mean them. Actions speak louder than words, however, and as much as I enjoy hearing him express that sentiment in spoken word, the little things he does just floor me.

On Friday, I overslept and was so late that walking Canelo before work was a no-go. Dustin heard me wake up in a panic and without hesitation, let me know that I did not have to worry. He promised to take my sweet boy out for me, even though that meant him having to chnage up his morning routine. Thank. goodness.

Yesterday, I convinced him to go to the Texas A&M football game with me. Note: the Texas Aggies are not his team. His team is from Austin. They call themselves the Texas Longhorns. Going to the game with me meant not watching his own team and giving up a day of gaming. Not only did he go, but he even did Saw Varsity’s Horns Off with me. That’s the part of the game when all Aggies link arms and legs, sway together, and loudly sing about sawing the longhorns off. Here’s a video example of it. This is what I forced Dustin to do:

It’s not exactly something a Longhorn fan would be fond of listening to, let alone participate in. He must really love me.

Today, I woke up hungry, but did some busywork before really thinking about eating. By the time that work was done, I was READY to eat and on the verge of becoming hangry. I thought I had some vegan enchiladas in the fridge, but as it turned out, they all had cheese in them and thus, belonged to Dustin. Not being in the mood for cooking, I ordered Thai delivery. My food arrived about thirty minutes later and I gladly indulged in it. As I was eating, Dustin got up to warm up his enchiladas.

“Did me eating make you hungry?” I asked.

“I was already hungry, but I knew you were hungry and didn’t want to eat before you did.”

He’s so polite and sweet. This man knows how awful I become when I am hungry and so, he waited. He’s not only polite and sweet, he’s selfless! I can’t help but think of those questionnaires that ask women to rank the qualities they want in a man. The choices are always the same old adjectives: intelligent, funny, passionate, attractive, rich, and so on. Well, my favorite attribute in Dustin is his selflessness.

He thinks about me, takes my feelings into consideration, tiptoes around me at times (I know that’s awful and I wish he didn’t feel the need to do that) all because he loves me. Ugh. I still adore every time he says I love you to me, but the seemingly trivial things he does are all the convincing I need to try to keep this fella around forever.

I do his laundry!