ladynox25: (Default)
I feel like I just ended a long grueling climb up flights of stairs and stepped onto the rooftop. It's a beautiful view. But now I have to walk over to the edge, stand on my tiptoes, hold my arms out to the sides, and swan-dive off the side. I know there's a net ready to catch me not 1 ft below. But wouldn't you be terrified anyway?
ladynox25: (angry)
This morning I was treated to the delightful sensation of my first pregnancy leg cramp--quite a severe one. My left calf still hurts, and standing on my feet for a couple of hours during lab today didn't help.

Then, I had to meet with my AFLAC agent because, when I left Ana-Lab, I chose to continue my life insurance policy through them. Only AFLAC apparently thought I wanted to continue my accident policy through them, and I only discovered the mistake a week ago when they sent me the premium renewal form. So I have to file a form asking for reinstatement of my life insurance policy and asking them to apply the premium I paid back in August towards the life insurance policy instead of the accident policy. Hence the meeting today. If they don't agree, I'll have to pay additional premiums. Just when I'm trying to save money for the baby, this is something I just don't need.

Then, I need to attend a lactation class. I was under the impression that the one for this month was being held last night, because the schedule said "First Monday night of each month". So I went through the time consuming and stressful process of arranging a substitute, making sure he had all the notes, lab info, copies, etc. that he needed, only to find out Thursday that the lactation class for this month was not last night, but *next* Monday night, the 12th. I can't afford to do two substitutions so I decided instead to sign up for next month's class, May 11th, since classes will be done by then and I won't need a substitute.

So far, so good. I considered going in last night but after a stressful weekend, I needed a rest badly and I had already given the sub all the material, so I felt that I could take the night off. Mind you, I had handed the copies of the quizzes, etc., and my copy of the text to him, physically, Thursday before I left campus. I went in today to take care of my other lab, and went to look in my box where I had asked him to put all the quizzes, labs, etc. to grade and my textbook. The box had the labs, and nothing else.

I looked everywhere else he might have put the missing stuff, no dice. Dave called him at my request to find out where the stuff was. His response?

"I couldn't find the copies. I looked in your box, my box, I asked the students where they were, I couldn't find them."

WHEN I HAD FUCKING PHYSICALLY HANDED THE COPIES TO HIM ON THURSDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Apparently this is not the first time. Apparently he has a reputation for doing this. I almost went through the roof. *I'm* absentminded, for God's sake, and I take extra pains to make sure I don't forget anything and if I were asked to substitute, you know by God that I would make DAMN sure I had everything I needed beforehand where I could get to it. And I have an EXCUSE.

I sent him an email asking him to get the material back to me by Wed so I can give the class the quiz Wed night. If I can't do it then then it will screw up the schedule for the rest of the semester but royally.

Oh, and during today's lab I burned my left thumb on a hotplate that someone had left on and my thumb is still hurting badly. And did I mention tonight is our first childbirth class which runs 6:30-9:30? And that tomorrow is my fasting glucose test? Which means I can't eat anything after 8 pm. So my leg hurts, my thumb hurts, and when I come home tonight I know I will be ravenous and unable to eat anything and then I have to get up early in the morning, drink a foul-tasting dextrose solution (I'm told it tastes horrific) and have my blood drawn.

And did I mention that my weekend had been stressful, too?

I swear, I have no clue why I am not screaming my head off right now. I sure as hell *want* to.
ladynox25: (rain)
One: *If* the temperature had cooperated by dropping about 45 degrees and *if* the ground had been frozen solid, we would have had a nice white Christmas this year. Instead, it's been raining on and off for the past three days. Ah, well, it's good for the drought. (Yes, we are still in a drought.)

Two: I have my last doctor appointment of the year tomorrow morning. Con: It's my annual gynecological exam. While I don't think I mind it as much as some women, there is a different squick factor there. Pro: Since I'll have the morning off from work, and since my appointment is not until 10, I can use the extra time to catch some last minute Christmas shopping for *mumblemumblemumblenanddon'ttellmydad*.

Three: Kilgore College has informed me that they will not need me after all next semester, due to a drop in their enrollment. Which, yeah, I will miss the extra cash, but in no way am I going to miss the extra *stress*. All in all, I think this time it worked out in my favor.

Four: My sweetie ([profile] hoya99 for those of you who don't know by now--and who doesn't know by now?) is now in Japan for Christmas. Pro: He got there safe, which I always worry about (yes, I know, airplanes are safe, generally, and I couldn't stop them if they decided to not be. Or something.) Con: He's even further away now, and I probably won't see him again until March. *sigh*

Soldiering on...
ladynox25: (scared)
Hurricane update. Ulp. Eeep.

This is not looking good at all. Am very much not happy. If this keeps up, will be very much NOT HAPPIER.
ladynox25: (rain)
With luck, I don't think we're going to get hit directly. If she makes a beeline for us, then we'll be like northern MS in a few days. My evacuation plan is to secure my apartment as much as I can, grab those supplies that might be useful in an emergency, pack clothes, and head north to my folks. Being north, they'll be hit with lighter winds, no matter what happens. And they have a generator and well water. So far, though, it seems her track is forecasted to hit west of us. Best case scenario for us, she comes ashore to the west and south of us, moves north to the west of us, and passes over us as a depression, bringing much needed rain, and light winds. (It should go without saying but we don't want her to hit NO at all!) Currently, however, there is a good possibility that we'll get some strong winds. So my folks and I are keeping a weather eye on her. Compounding the issue is [profile] hoya99's impending visit--he's supposed to fly in on Sunday, September 25. At that point, Rita is forecasted to have come on shore and will be in the process of weakening. How much and where she will be will definitely be an issue wrt to his flight.

Here's hoping that things go well--or as well as can be expected, when a Category 5 storm is thinking about making a visit. At this point, all I can do is keep watching.
ladynox25: (Default)
Okay, I think I agree with the people who say that doing this instructing thing this semester is probably a Bad Idea (tm). So that's the end of that idea. But, given a semester in which to prepare quizzes, tests, lecture notes, etc., in my spare time, is it doable next semster? Should I take that rain check?

[Poll #553978]

etc. )

Angst

Aug. 16th, 2005 07:41 pm
ladynox25: (moon)
So I kinda have a job offer.

To teach an evening course in Chemistry for Health Sciences. At Kilgore College. Tuesdays and Thursdays, 6:30-9:30. Half lecture, half lab, each evening. This in addition to my other, regular job.

Pros:

Can do it, with a little schedule shuffling. Will be tired, tho.
Extra money for trip to Japan[1].
Extra money, period.
Looks good on resume.

Cons:

One week (!) to familiarize myself with their course and grading systems, prepare syllabi, prepare to teach.
Not having taught a lecture course before, period[2].
Depression [3] and resultant lack of self-confidence.
One week to prepare while still holding down other, full-time job.

Pros:

Someone else is going to teach the course by default if I decide not to.
They don't seem too bent out of shape by the idea of me taking a rain check and doing this next semester.

Subpro (doing it next semster):

More time to prepare.

Subcons:

More time to pysche self out against doing it at all.
Not as much money for Japan, if any.
Possibility of not going to Japan at all, since trip will require two weeks.

Subpros:

Possibility of taking Japan trip during Spring Break for the first week.
They are willing to cover other week if this is the case.

Con:

Tired, stressed, depressed already. Exhaustion from extra work would increase all this.

Pro (sort of):

Don't want to be thought weak, a quitter, a failure, etc., if I don't do it.

Conclusion: Poll:

[Poll #553440]

[1] Yay!
[2] Have taught lab undergraduate courses where we had a manual laying everything out for us.
[3] Usual, yearly, sky-is-getting-dark-again, I-hate-waking-up-in-the-dark, depression. Has been lasting a number of weeks and has been pretty bad this time around. Is why I have not been around LJ much lately.
ladynox25: (sad)
Who am I, when I am at home in myself?
Who am I?
What do I want?
What do I choose?
What I choose is what I am, what I become, when I choose.
Not to choose is also a choice.
I must choose, I have no choice.
Who am I?
What do I want?
What is best?
How do I choose?
I choose not to hurt, but all choices lead to pain.
How can I choose?
How can I not choose?
Which path do I walk?
Do all paths lead to darkness?
Who am I?
What do I want?
What do I choose?
Oh, Lord, help me.
Help me choose.
This is too big for me.
I am not all-wise; I do not have the answers.
Help me.
Am I making the right decision?
How will I know, except to choose?
Oh Lord, help me.
Forgive me.
I did not wish to cause pain.
But I must choose.
Who am I when I am at home in myself?
Who am I?
What I am?
What do I choose?
ladynox25: (Default)
for A. B.

"I love you," I said,
"More than I've ever loved before.
I didn't know—I had no idea—
I was capable of such love.
And every day that goes by
I realize more and more
why it is I love you.
I was made for you.
You were made for me."
Trite and clichéd those words are,
but in this case, so true.
I was lonely, far from home,
from friends, from those I love,
trying my wings along a new path.
Exciting, but lonely, yes, lonely,
and then I found you.
You, too, had left
home and friends and family
to come here, many years ago now.
And though here you've found friends,
still no one knew the real you,
the things you keep in your heart,
your wonderful and terrible secrets.
And then I came,
and we found each other,
and we knew.
Then, as now, we were the same,
kindred spirits, our hearts alike,
though how different the outside!
And yet how wonderful
that those so different
as we appeared
should be so much the same.
Those who saw us
never understood
never looked beneath
never knew why,
But we knew,
and it was enough,
and more than enough.
Not lovers at first, only friends,
yet friendship ever growing towards love.
I needed you, and you, me.
And God must have brought us together,
or so I thought.
It seemed so right,
you and I.
You weren't perfect, it's true,
and I had my share of flaws,
but still, against all expectations,
it worked so beautifully,
you and I.
And I grew to love you.
I gave you my heart.
I became part of you,
and you, me.
Body to body,
in the dark and the light
shimmering shadows falling over us.
Coffee and cream
flowing together,
flowing like water,
blending and reblending.
Soul and mind and heart
becoming irrevocably entwined.
I gave myself to you
more completely, more wholly
than I ever dreamed possible.
No fear, no pain.
No fear of pain.
Total confidence, and total acceptance,
the good with the bad.
And it worked so beautifully.
And I loved you.
I loved you so much.
And I was so happy.
I wanted nothing more
than to spend the rest of my life
loving you
and being loved by you.
And God must have sent you to me,
me to you.
He must have known
how much we needed each other,
how we were two halves
to complete each other,
how we would join together
to create one soul.
And Heaven must have willed this to happen.
What had I done
to merit such a blessing,
flawed, frail, sinful human that I was?
So I thanked Him.
My days were one constant prayer
of joy, of thankfulness,
of happiness, of peace,
finally peace, so perfect and so profound.
And I loved you.
And I was so happy.
We were so happy.
One year—one blesséd year.
And then—and then—
and then.
You were ripped away from me,
not of your own will,
but with your acquiescence.
I would have fought the world
to keep you by my side.
But how could I fight you?
How could I cause you pain,
you who I loved most in all the world?
My hands fell uselessly to my side.
My voice stilled.
My words fell dully through the air
as you walked away
leaving me behind
standing there,
crying,
praying,
begging,
pleading,
straining every nerve,
every fiber of my being,
trying to pull you back.
You walked away
tearing my soul, tearing my heart
wounding me as I never imagined anyone—
least of all you—could
and left me, bleeding inside
with half a soul,
half a heart,
no one to hold on to
and my friends so far away.
So far….
so dark, and so black,
so deep the pit,
so steep the sides,
so impossible the climb.
And no one to hold on to,
no one to help me.
And the pain—oh the pain—
indescribable, unending, terrible!
How could I make it now
Why should I even attempt that climb?
Where was my God now?
My all-powerful God,
Who brought us together,
why had He not prevented
this sundering?
Filled with confusion,
my faith shattered,
my heart broken,
my soul bleeding,
my mind wheeling,
my body dead.
I was so lost
when you walked away from me
leaving me with empty hands
and the only thing I could say, was,
"Why?"
ladynox25: (moon)
Losing A. like that--no warning or anything, shook the foundation of my being like nothing ever has or maybe ever will. The pain of the loss was indescribable. I felt like half of me had been ripped away and I was left bleeding, out in the cold and the dark. And then, the group of people here who I considered my friends told me that they had only been nice to me for A.'s sake. Now that we had broken up, they didn't want to be friends anymore. All of this led, about a month later, to me trying to take my own life, by overdosing on Tylenol. Ironically, it was A. that saved my life. I had called him after I took the pills--I still don't know why. I was hurting and feeling sick and wanted to hear his beloved voice for what I thought would be the last time. And probably a little mean part of me was trying one last desperate attempt to get him back. He was so upset when he found out what I'd done and as soon as I hung up to go vomit in the sink, he called the local emergency services. They came and got me and took me to the hospital. In my pajamas, because it was in the middle of the night.The night I spent in the hospital was the most humiliating of my life. I was vomiting left and right due to the Tylenol. They took my pajama top off to attach all sort of electrodes to my chest. Then they gave me activated charcoal to absorb what was still in my stomach. That stuff is nasty--it tastes gaggingly sweet, and I started to vomit that, too. Soon my hands and face and chest were covered in black patches. They gave me a ton of intravenous fluid to flush the Tylenol out of my blood, so I quickly needed to piss. They gave me a bedpan, but I was so out of it that I missed. Pretty soon, I needed to shit, because among other things, Tylenol is a laxative. They barely got me off the bed and onto the stool in time. In the process, I shitted my pants, so they took those off me too. So now, here I was, lying in a bed that stank of vomit and piss and shit, naked for all the world to see. The attendant and the doctors, well, they had probably seen it all before, but that didn't lessen my shame. Then they decided that they had to give me some medication to neutralize the Tylenol in my blood. I had to drink it--for some reason they couldn't give it to me intravenously. That substance had a taste that was beyond vile. Just remembering it still causes me to gag. And I couldn't keep it down. I tried and tried, but finally, they stuck a tube down my nose in order to get it in me. That hurt like hell, even though they had given me some anesthetic before they put it in. The scariest part was when I could feel it at the part of my esophagus where the two systems--respiratory and intestinal--meet. I was terrified that they were putting that tube into my lungs. They keep telling me to swallow--I kept saying "I can't!" Finally it was in. It caused a nosebleed in my nose where it went in and every time I moved--even slightly--the scab broke loose and my nose bled again, and each time it hurt just as bad. Every time I moved, it brushed against my gag reflex and I wanted to vomit. That damn tube stayed in my nose all night long. When they finally took it out, the following morning, that hurt, too, but the relief was immense. When they released me, I was covered in brown patches from the stuff they had stuck on me and black patches from the charcoal and I was beat.They didn't let me go home, oh no, my stars, that won't do. This girl tried to kill herself--she obviously needs help. So they sent me to the local mental center. In my pajamas, with only the stuff I had had on me and the few things the EMS team had grabbed from my room. They took a picture of me when I got there--for their files. When I left, I got a copy. I kept it for a very good reason. If I'm ever tempted to try it again, all I have to do is look at that picture. I look like I've been through hell. Pride can be a powerful deterrent. The hardest thing I had to do while I was there was to call my dad and tell him what I had tried to do. I was afraid that he would bluster and get mad at me like he does when I screw up. It really shocked me when he didn't. He just said, in a despairing voice I have never heard him use before: "Oh, J., *why*? Why did you do that? Why didn't you tell us?" He told my mom and they called me later on that day. I could tell she'd been crying and we both ended up crying to each other over the phone. I promised them then that I would never try it again. That is a promise I intend to keep. Then I called A. He had been worried sick. From the time he had got off the phone with the EMS dispatcher, he had had no idea what had happened--whether they had managed to reach me in time. I told him frankly that I wasn't sure if I should thank him or not, but that yes, I was still alive and would remain so for the time being.While I was in that place, I saw people who had much more serious problems than I. I felt ashamed of myself. I also found an almost Zen-like detachment from the world. Remember, I came there with almost no possessions. No one came to visit me or brought me anything. My roommate gave me a set of clothes to wear. The nurses gave me basic toiletries. In that place, where the day consisted of meetings and talking and more meetings, time seemed to have little meaning. I found an appreciation for something as simple as eating. The food was surprisingly good--better than what I get here. After a few days, they transferred me out of suicide watch. All told, I was there a week.Looking back, I can see that I needed help. If I had been smart, I would have gone and checked myself in, but, as they say, hindsight is 20-20. At the time, all I could see around me was pain, cold, dark, more pain, and no way out. Is suicide an acceptable option in such cases? I cannot judge others, all I can say is that I had no right to put the people I love, especially my parents, through that sort of pain. So for the past eight months now, I have been slowly working my way out of the pit I was thrown into on March 20th. It has not been easy, nor is it over by a long shot. I have had to reconstruct myself from the ground up. I have managed to successfully come off the antidepressants they prescribed for me, which ought to count for something.

You have my deepest sympathy, and I'm so glad you got help. I've been very near to that point but luckily didn't get that far. I still landed in the hospital over night. That helped more by shocking me, shaking me up, than anything else. (And the food was awful for me. With my allergies, I couldn't eat any of it!) [DefiniteMaybe]



*fierce hugs*

-- [Turnberry Kn-Kn.]

Oh sweetie. [Missy Sedai]

"No way out."Yep. Been there. You done good. [Miss Aine]

*hugs* [Silmaril]

ladynox25: (moon)
Through everything I've written about A., you'll notice one thing missing--his parents. This is because his parents did not know about me, by his decision. I didn't necessarily agree with that move, but it was his decision to make. Well, one day they found out. They found out after A. had earned his doctorate, gotten a job in Florida, and moved down there. Originally, he and I had decided to break up when he left, but after things got way more serious, we changed our minds (and he started planning on how to tell his parents about me). (As an aside: I do honestly believe, to this day, that A. was intending to propose to me the next time we saw one another--May 13th, which was his graduation and also close to my birthday.) Unfortunately, we never got that far. I had called him the evening of March 19th, his first day on the job, to see how things were going, and I stayed on the line just a few minutes too long. His parents were also trying to call him for the same reason, and when they heard a busy signal, they got suspicious. I'm guessing that when they got through, the conversation went like this:"Who was that on the line?""Oh, that was J.":pause:"Who is J.?""She's...my girlfriend.":long pause:"Your *girlfriend*?!?!":cue 3rd degree questioning, where they find out that I am not a Hindu::cue much wailing and gnashing of teeth:Now, mind you, I don't know for sure, but I bet that's pretty much how it went. They were incredulous and furious. I'm sure they regarded me as the AntiChrist (or whatever the Hindu version might be...Kali?), sent to tempt their good, strictly religious, perfect Brahmin son away from all the wonderful, nice, religious Brahmin girls that they could have selected for him. I, of course, had gone to bed without knowing any of this...until the next evening, when A. called me. He was in tears. He was convinced that his mother was about to die of a heart attack (she had a weak heart), and that it would be on his hands. I took a deep breath and told him that it was ok with me if we called our relationship off--at the time, I thought it would be only temporary, until his parents calmed down a bit and we could explain things to them.Well, to make a long story short, it didn't happen that way. In all my thinking about prejudice, about what A. and I might face, I had never considered that his parents would object to me as strongly as they did. I expected something on the order of what I had been experiencing with my parents, and I thought that that level of objection could be surmounted. Nor did I realize fully the familial obligation that exists in many Asian families, the pressure to obey one's elders (especially parents) that A., being an only son, was now experiencing. I can only imagine the pain he must have felt, being forced to choose between me and his parents. I do know that he honestly believed that if we stayed together, he would be disowned by his father and most of his extended family (whom he had close ties to). It was a great blow to my idealism when the best thing his parents could say about me was: "Well, at least she's not black." (Go look up politics and race relations in Guyana, then you'll understand.) I shouldn't have worried, though, about *that* blow, because much worse was on the horizon.

::fierce hugs::

And RYN (Rock Around the Clock: Musings): **fierce hugs**I hope to meet you someday. Perhaps one of these DC Socials? :-) -- [Turnberry Kn-Kn.]

RYNRYN(Rock Around the Clock: Musings): Most excellent! Or even just for interviews --with Miss Aine and Missy Sedai all in a quick drive, we could introduce you to a lot of fun stuff. :-)

I think all three of us will be here for a *long* time, so drop on by! :-) -- [Turnberry Kn-Kn.]

--And also, welcome to ICQ! For some reason my request for authorization didn't seem to get through, but hopefully see you around! :-) -- [Turnberry Kn-Kn.]

*taps foot* Finish the Story, already!(kidding, this must be hard to write)Oh, RYN from forever ago (sorry), I don't mind you reading my diary. [Miss Aine]

ladynox25: (moon)
This is going to be hard to write. It's hard to put some of these things into words, especially when I've spent the summer trying to bury some of it. Please bear with me if I start to ramble or repeat myself.I met A. when I moved down here to start grad school in chemistry. I had decided to live on campus, at least for the first year, since I didn't know the area well enough to get an apartment. Well, the RHF (Residence Hall Federation) Council for the two grad dorms threw a picnic to help people get acquainted. I was there, and so was A, since he was a RHF member. He came over to me where I was sitting on the grass and asked what I was doing. I remember answering, "Trying to achieve apotheosis." I still don't know why I said that. He invited me over to meet some people. I found out that a group of the grad students (including A.) met to eat supper at around the same time every day. I started to eat with them. A. and I quickly developed a good friendship.Then I volunteered to be part of the Haunted House that October. I was to be the hanged person. I thought that was cool, since it gave me the chance to show off my new peasant's costume. (I know it probably isn't up to SCA standards, but I'm proud of it anyway.) I also let my hair down. Before, it had always been up in a bun. I think everyone was surprised at how long it was (about a foot in length from my shoulders to the tip). Certainly the costume and hair had an effect on A. Shortly thereafter, one evening at supper, I mentioned that I was going to watch the premiere of the TV movie of Animal Farm. A. mentioned that he was going to watch it, too, only he had a TV, so wouldn't I like to watch with him in his room? (Yes, I know I should have realized, but give me a break, I was not looking for a relationship.) While we were watching the movie, A. leaned over and touched my ear. I jumped about a foot off the floor! He apologized and said that he wanted to see my earring. Yeah, right, like your typical guy is at all interested in a plain gold earring. At that point, my suspicions were aroused. And that meant that I had to do some serious thinking.You see, I am American, white, and nominally Catholic. A. was from Guyana, of Asian Indian extraction, and Hindu. I like to think of myself as tolerant, and I had never let race or religion stop me from forming friendships. But I knew that with a interracial, interfaith relationship you have problems, because other people can be so prejudiced. I had never seriously contemplated an interracial relationship. Since friendship is for me the first step towards love, and since, like I said, I don't discriminate against my friends, it should have been obvious that one day this would happen. But I had never thought about it before. So I did. Meanwhile, we went out on one casual date, and I encountered the first opposition to the relationship. From my parents. Whoa. I had never expected that. Both my parents have had interracial, interfaith friendships, so I was quite shocked to hear them state reservations about me possibly dating A. My mom eventually clarified for me that they were worried about the pain I might suffer from other people's prejudice. Well, ok then.My best friend, J.? Oh, she had no problem with it other than warning me to hold back, because apparently some Asian men like to bag women, pursuing them until they have sex, then dumping them. She wanted me to make sure that A. was not one such before I committed. Sensible advice at the beginning of any relationship, I think. Meanwhile, A. was avidly pursuing me. I think by two months after the Halloween party, he was in love with me. I wasn't in love with him. I liked him very much, and I thought he was sexy as anything, but I wasn't in love, yet. It took me a little longer to fall in love, and a whole lot longer to actually admit it to myself. But it did happen.
ladynox25: (moon)
Love. Perhaps it is the most dangerous four-letter word in existence. Theologians, philosophers, and poets alike have tried to define it and failed. How then am I to put into words the most extraordinary experience in my life? For such things do not come every day. It came with a price, oh yes. It nearly cost me my sanity. It almost cost me my life. Yet, looking back, I cannot honestly say I would do things differently. Maybe, maybe not.I remember how, after a session of lovemaking in half-darkness, I would rise and go to the mirror hanging above my sink. He would rise and join me there. I would gaze at the reflection of our naked bodies, pressed against each other. How beautiful, how incredibly beautiful the image was--his square, well-built frame and my slight, petite one. The color of our skins--my cream and his cocoa, perfectly complimenting each other. It was a reflection of all that was different in our relationship, yet also of the love that made such differences small.Incandescent love. A fiery inferno consuming both heart and soul, melting two people into one. A true selflessness--his needs, his wants, his desires, his pleasure, his joy above mine. The sort of love that brands you and changes you. Passion burning brightly and deeply, gradually changing into a deep abiding wellspring of love. Love that can last a lifetime. True love; perfect love--as perfect as anything can be in this imperfect world.For the first time in my life, I was truly happy. More than happy--I glowed. I know I did. Mind and heart, body and soul, were all lit by the interior flame. Day to day concerns were small, petty, beside this abiding peace and joy. I felt like I could do anything and everything I'd ever dreamed of. Getting a doctorate was easy. Conquering the world--the universe!--would not have been hard. Not with him beside me. My whole being sang, daily, hourly, with hymns of praise and thanksgiving to the God who had allowed me such a great blessing. I almost cried at times.Not that that year was easy. I went through a bad kidney infection. My cat died. My grandmother died. A., too had his own problems. But A. was there for me and I was there for him and I had learned enough from my mistakes with D. to not begrudge him space and time to be alone. Yes, we had quarrels, but surprisingly few. Our motto was "quid pro quo" and we tried to live that day to day, and guess what? It worked. The two of us, from such different backgrounds, should never have been able to find enough common ground for a successful relationship. The very idea was crazy. Yet it worked. Behold thus, the miracles that love can work.

*hugs* [Turnberry Kn-Kn.]
ladynox25: (moon)
No matter what has happened since, I owe D. a lot. He opened my eyes to possibilities that I had never dreamed of. And in breaking with him, I was able to mature and grow in ways that I never would have had we stayed together. In a very real way, what I had with A. would never have been possible if I D. had never been in my life. Don't get me wrong, I loved D. with all that was in me at the time, but it was only after the break-up that I discovered that there was more in me to give. And that is why the two relationships were almost as different as night and day.
As a humorous aside: once upon a time, when in elementary school we students were told to line up, it was always done alphabetically by last name. This left me at the back of the line. One day I got fed up with being last and told my teacher that I would marry a guy whose last name came at the beginning, so I could go first. Why is this important? It isn't, really, but my first boyfriend had a last name beginning with A. and my second had a last name beginning with B. And this was not done deliberately by me, it was totally coincidental. I am now half seriously expecting my next boyfriend (if there ever is one) to have a last name starting with C.

*snicker* Beware the subconcious mind! [-Mel]
ladynox25: (moon)
This is the hard part for me--talking about the two guys that I have loved in my life. The first one was D.D. and I met my freshman year in college. He was a junior, some six or seven years older than me. We became friends almost immediately. He asked me to go on a casual date, as friends. Then one night, we went out stargazing and ended up kissing. I mean a real, deep, passionate kiss. Perhaps it's cliche to say that that kiss changed me, but it did. Before that kiss, I had decided to devote my life to God as a nun. After that kiss, I suddenly became aware of other options. Before, I had never thought of myself as attractive; had never considered dating or marriage. After, well, I had a lot of stuff to think about. And I did.Our relationship grew and intensified through the school year. I discovered a well-spring of passion inside myself that I never knew was there. As time passed, it became harder and harder to hold back from giving myself to him completely. I'll have to give D. this credit: he never pressured me to go beyond my limits. Finally, one night, I simply became frustrated with holding back. Mentally, I said to myself "Oh, fuck it!" And, well, that's what happened. I think I managed to surprise D. A few months after I'd lost my virginity, he proposed to me. No ring or anything, but then I was still trying to figure out if I wanted one.Our relationship lasted two and a half years from the first kiss. We broke up shortly before D. graduated; shortly before my 21st birthday. We broke up over a number of issues. D. panicked when it came time for him to graduate, and ended up pushing a lot of people away for a while. For my part, I was still immature in my relationship with him. I didn't understand that just because I wanted to be with him all the time, it didn't necessarily follow that he wanted to be with me all the time. I clung; he retreated. I still have regrets about that; I'd like to do it over.After we broke up, we stopped talking for awhile, but gradually began to reform a friendship out of what had been. We were more or less successful with that. I trusted him as I would my second-best friend. Until this summer, but that's another entry.

I think relationships like this are important for growing up and learning. I never had anybody like this, and I regret it occasionally. Even the mistakes can help long term... (Did that make any sense? I'm trying to say something that I can't quite articulate.) [DefiniteMaybe]

Thank you for sharing, m'Lady. It takes great courage to share so deeply with us. *hugs* -- [Turnberry Kn-Kn.]

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September 2012

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