Random one-liners that have no other place.

• Someday, I'll go to bed dirty and wake up clean.

• I miss being enjoyed.

• If you left in a blaze of glory, you can never go back.

• I still smile, I just haven't meant it in a while.

Lunch with my Dad, the Epilogue

A person really wants to believe the people they love aren't about to hurt them, even when she knows they will.

My first clue should have been when he asked me to lunch, but it wasn't. I didn't want to believe he always had an ulterior motive, especially when he doing something nice. I managed to stave off the suspicion until he mentioned the restaurant where we were headed was quiet. Even still, in a split second I convinced myself otherwise. He was just getting older and didn't like noisy places. (This has not been true of my father a day in his life, probably no one knows that better than me. It is simply astounding what I can convince myself of with very little effort.) The second clue was when he wouldn't talk about work. At that point, the ominous feeling that this lunch wasn't going to end well wouldn't leave. But it would be ignored. I wanted to believe my dad was honestly concerned, I desperately needed too. He ruined it, he turned a perfectly good lunch and my blind faith in the father I truly admire.

We don't want to believe our loved ones are capable of such premeditated infliction. If we did, we would be cynical and unable to enjoy or even notice the moments when there are no agendas. And we do believe there are moments without pretense, even if we've never seen them. We hope and we believe, because we love them.

Lunch with my Dad, Part 2

Dad: Now, I want us to be able to talk about this like adults, and I don't want you to get defensive.
Inner voice: Shields up? Check!
Me: Alright...
Dad: So, why did you get so upset the other night?
Inner voice: Because my mother hates my dog, and you defend her.
Me: Dad, you act like I just flew off the handle for no reason. Mom is the one who started it. I came home after working 10 hours, took the dog out, changed my clothes, and sat down with Mom in the living room. She immediately started in with. "Do you wanna tell me what happened out there (there being the screened-in porch)?" I remained calm, I really did, and just explained to her how I had tested the dog out there two days ago to see if he would be alright, and he was, for two and a half hours. So on Sunday I left him in there for church. When I came home from church he had chewed the top of the door handle. I was about to go into the part where I apologized, because I would never leave the dog out there without some evidence that led me to believe that he could handle it, but before I could say that, she interupted me. Dad, she completely went off, she must've been stewing on it for hours just waiting for me to get home. At that point I realized what she wanted was just to let me have it. So I just shut up, and then she got pissed cause I wouldn't say anything.
Dad: I highly doubt that she "went off" on you.
Me: Well, you weren't there, Dad.
Dad: This is a problem that needs to be dealt with, *Me*. How can we resolve this if we can't talk about it like adults?
Inner Me: Stop saying "like adults"! Until you see me throw a temper tantrum in the middle of this restaurant, please consider me an official adult.
Me: My whole issue is, I don't get why Mom is such a freak about a door knob. I mean, seriously, it doesn't have a heart beat and it sure isn't goin' to heaven with her when she dies. Shouldn't me and my dog be more important to her than her things?
Dad: *Me*, we knew it wasn't going to be easy having you and Shades living with us, but we understood that if you came so did the dog.
Me: Umm...ok.
Inner Me: Not exactly an anwer to my question...
Dad: I think the key is to set goals. Goals to paying off your debt, saving money...
Me: I do have a goal, March 1st, 2008. (Deducing from the look on Dad's face) What? Not soon enough?
Dad: I don't think so...er, but I think it would be better for your self esteem for you to be on your own. Don't you?
Inner me: I think...I think I am gonna lose it. I think you are a liar. I think Mom is making you miserable because the dog is making her miserable. I think Mom completely lacks compassion for living creatures. Until her life gets back to normal, neither will yours. And you will get your life back to normal, even if that means kicking your daughter out. I think you can't even tell yourself the truth behind why you already want me to move out, much less me. I think I won't say any of this out loud.
Me: (stunned and quiet) You're gonna need to give me a date, Dad, a date to move out by.
Dad: (incredulously) I don't have a date.
Me: Well, you sure know what date it isn't. Just tell me what date it is and I will move out.
Inner Me: Don't cry. Don't cry.
Dad: I don't have a date.
Me: (Eyes filling up with tears as I stare into the salad I won't be finishing)
Dad: I...just don't think it's good for your self esteem.
Me: (Tears streaming down my face, still looking at my salad) Ok.
Inner Me: I can't believe you did this to me. You know I have to go back to work now, and I am not the one with an office that I can retreat too. I have a cubicle, which anyone walking by can see into. I can't believe you did this to me...on purpose.
Dad: (paying the check) You're not going to have lunch with me ever again, huh?
Inner Me: Yeah, I wouldn't bet on it.
Me: (putting sunglasses on indoors to hide my punching bag face as I resist the temptation to run, not walk, out of the restaurant)

Lunch with my Dad, Part 1

Dad: Let's plan on havin' Lunch today. Can you do that?
Me: Sure. That'd be great!
Dad: What time can you go?
Me: Anytime. *El jefe* doesn't have anything til 3:30. Just come and get me when you are ready to go.
Dad: Ok.
Me: Cool.

~Cut to me and Dad in his truck.~

Me: Where are we headed?
Dad: Oh, I thought we'd go to *Super-swank steak house*. It's cool and quiet there.

~Cut to me and Dad in a back booth of the super-swank, super-teeming with people, and obviously not quiet restaurant.~

Me: What's going on for you today at work?
Dad: Eh, work is work. Let's talk about you.
Voice inside my head: Well...that was maybe the worst segue ever, but I'll play along.
Me: Ummm...Ok.
Dad: How's it goin' for you? How are your doing?
Me: Like work stuff?
Dad: No, how are you doing outside of work?
Voice inside my head: Man, I thought we were gonna have a nice lunch...
Me: Hmmm...it's been tough. To be honest I've been a little lonely, I haven't met anybody here that shares any of my interests...
Voice inside my head: ...music and beer...
Dad: I hope you've come to terms with being lonely for a long time. You're gonna be here for a while.
Me: (trying to wipe the look of shock off my face while still talking)
Voice inside my head: Wait, what did you just say?! Please tell me you didn't just say that! Is it possible that I could be even more pathetic than I feel right at this very moment? I can't process this information right now so I'm just gonna keep talking, like I didn't hear you...
Me: ... blah, blah, blah, I guess I've been hoping that work would have provided more social options than it seems to have presented so far.
Voice inside my head: In the name of all things holy, can we please talk about something that is not going to make me cry?
Dad: Well, we need to talk about what happened with your mother the other night...
Voice inside my head: That wasn't it, Dad. Do you really want to go there? The look on your face says "yes". It's just like you to take me out to a nice lunch, at a nice restaurant, just to watch me cry in public. Alright then, let's get into it. Maybe I can hold it together...

Now Let the Music Keep Our Spirits High

There was a time not long ago when everyday felt like flying. Even if I was tired, I was still in the air. Now...now I'm nowhere. I'm in a hole, a rut. I'm underground. Digging or crawling my way out seems an impossibility right now. I've been a little obsessed with Jackson Browne these days and he put the sentiment correctly in the song Before the Deluge, "And in the end they traded their tired wings for the resignation that living brings". That's about where I am at. It's the resignation that keeps me from flying, not the inability. Once lost, how do I get back whatever "fire inside" it was that made me fly?

Moving has been harder than I expected. Isolation is both a friend and an enemy. I am almost past the point of being flippant about the pain. It takes a lot for me to get to the place where I can't make jokes. Well, I still make jokes to other people, but my heart is not in it for the moment, which kinda kills the funny. Although, some people are nice enough to give the courtesy laugh...keeps things from getting too awkward.

What I need is to get out of this house - no, strike that - what I really need it to have a reason to get out of this house. Being out there with no reason is worse than being in here.

Things will get better, they always do. But even if they don't, I will keep telling myself that. I just get in these moods sometimes where nothing helps, 'cept music. The right song at the right time can move mountains. So, I will leave you with another quote from my current obsession,

"I am just a day away from where I want to be. Now I'm running home, baby, like a river to the sea." -Jackson Browne from Your Bright Baby Blues

The first part resonates with me the most right now, but in time, the second part will be just as true.

Two Years Later

To be honest, it still hurts me...deeply. And it's not that I still love him, I don't. And it's not even that he stopped loving me. It's because after he stopped loving me, he stayed and lied and acted as if any changes in his feelings were a direct effect of my smothering neediness. His elaborate lie reduced me to a driveling idiot with no self-respect. That's just cruel and all too usual punishment that even on my worst day was undeserved. He could have been honest with me, and I could have had the opportunity to leave with some dignity. But at that point, I was so worthless to him that my feelings meant nothing. So he kept lying, telling me he loved me and that I was just demanding to much of him. This pattern kept me just close enough to come running when he called.

When I look back at the girl I was and realize I am responsible for all those words and actions, I hate him for changing me. Back then, I was vulnerable, tender, and stupid. Now I seem cold, hard, and calloused. And hating myself is much more painful than hating him.

Proverbs 14:23

"All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty."

I will promise to do the hard work (Lord, make me able and committed to working hard). I will wait on you for the music and the words. You could have found a girl much more talented than I, but I will trust in you and your perfect will. Turn my tongue of acid and hatred into one that soothes, comforts, and challenges in love. I will trust you.