A Quarter Life Crisis

It’s funny I’ve been going through one of the rockiest emotional moments I can remember. I would say even rockier than when I finally lost the Future Ex Husband. And even though I’ve never told the story about the Future Ex Husband and it is a story I didn’t feel as much a failure as I’ve felt lately. With him I just felt numb. A long time passed before I rubbed the numbness out of my veins. It never occurred to me that we wouldn’t be married living as the modern day Huxtables even though our relationship was a seesaw of together and apart.

Failure is my greatest fear. Don’t try to break into any of my accounts because you now know one of my security question answers. I fight against failure every day. This is part of the reason I did so well in school and ultimately do well professionally. I refuse to do anything but well, I repeat refuse. This is not in a childish get mine before someone can get theirs type of thing I just put in 200% at all times. It has paid off very well for me. I have a work ethic that most don’t, in particular those of my generation, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. I delay personal gratification at the expense of excelling professionally.

And I do this intentionally. I deal well in a world where I can be emotion-less. Work requires attention but it doesn’t require vulnerability. It doesn’t have to see me stripped bare to love and ultimately reward me. With the Future Ex Husband I was totally exposed and open and vulnerable but in the end it didn’t work. And when it was over I played the What If game for years about what should have could have been. Eventually I accepted that in life you will have growing moments and losing the Ex was one of mine.

Losing the Future Ex Husband taught me a correct yet emotionally isolating lesson about love, in order to avoid pain you can’t get in too deep. And this lesson grew and took hold as the result of the groundwork paved by a troubled childhood that witnessed dysfunctional love. Every guy after the Ex, I held at a distance. It wasn’t necessary to divulge all things about me because I wasn’t going to be around long enough for it to matter. Whenever I bored or at the first sign of trouble I ended things…sometimes abruptly others with slow fades but never ever on someone else’s terms. I shielded my heart well and escaped those men painlessly and unscathed. Always looking back on my time with them as yet another life experience but never a true relationship. I’d tried a relationship and it didn’t work, mistakes are to be learned from and not repeated.

Not recently! The Spaniard caught me in the middle of a perfect storm. I’d just gotten settled into the consultant game. And by settled I mean figured out the circus and began falling into the petty politics. My family was in the midst of crisis...not uncommon but I was truly emotionally raw from losing my Pop-Pop. And to add insult to injury 21 Jump Street shattered a 7-year friendship and any hopes of a courtship with the live in girlfriend bomb. In the midst of that train wreck unassuming genuinely nice guy walks in and provides a much-needed outlet.

He wasn’t trying to solve any of my ish because that’s what I’m good at, solving ish. He was just there, if I needed to laugh or shout or naked mambo talk or whatever with no agenda. He didn’t want anything from me and that was a relief. It seems that everyone in my life wants something from me and it was nice for once that someone didn’t need my advice, time, money, car, opinion, guidance and the list goes on. I found comfort there.

And even though I outwardly fought against the idea of coupling up with him I took a tiny leap of faith outside of my comfort zone into a relationship with the Spaniard. It felt right at the time. But when it ended, it ended badly. I felt deceived. I felt abused and I felt like the person who originally didn’t want anything from me was a fraud. The one person who was supposed to above all others not want to hurt me stabbed me with a rusty steak knife and left me to bleed out in the streets. And as much as I wanted to gouge out his eyes for being a liar and a whole lot of other things I was more enraged with myself. Me, the person who writes people’s stories accurately within an hour of meeting him couldn’t see through The Spaniard’s veneer. Failure her name is Faith.

Or at least that’s how I felt. I masked that feeling most of the summer with the madness of dating random boys. It was fun but came tumbling to a halt with one text message. A message that unearthed those buried feelings of self-rage slapping them to the surface and forcing me to deal. My preference isn’t to deal. As I mentioned emotion-less environments suit me well.

They say the ones who hurt us the most are the ones closest to us…do you believe that?

But anyway it’s my birthday and I’m going to table this rambling for now…

Side note: Are you an emotion bottler or a wearer of your feelings on your sleeve?

My new inspiration!!

Thoughts in Future Husband Minor©

i met him with eyes
that spoke before mouths
had a chance to catch the words
and we were introduced
with window images of our past
helping to fuse a future that could not be.
i wanted to love him
with finger tips that graze lips
before they kiss
and tug on heart strings
creating a frenzied vibration
a pit-pat staccato rhythm
and we were singing
with voices that filled silent rooms
our own hip hop beat
that carried us nightly.
i wanted to know him…
with omniscience since inception
from a dad’s seed to a mom’s womb
from a babe’s feeble wobble to a man’s stride.
and we were walking
down uncharted paths with no directions
up hills and down valleys
looking for answers to questions we didn’t know we had
about each other and ourselves
about love and about life
posed to those who walked before us
but they were broken
disenchanted nomads hoping
from place to person
from person to place
on a journey with no path.
i wanted to write him
into the chapters of my life
so my book was a fairytale instead of a nightmare
so i’d kissed frogs and found a prince with a majestic stallion….
and we were searching
and we were reaching
and we were pushing
and we were pulling
and we were sewing
but there wasn’t enough thread to build our quilt
enough fabric to drape ourselves from the outside
it crept through the creases
unraveling our newly sewn pattern
splitting the ends almost to the beginnings
so we were left, where we started…
an unfinished masterpiece that never was
i met him with eyes…eyes with him met i

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May I start with saying that it was all types of great to see Model Friend! She looked the same, had the same gross so unladylike behavior (Including but not limited to her telling me she thought her pits were a little skanky. Why 90% of the male population finds her attractive baffling, I kid.) and it was fantabulous. Albeit very short lived given my two day jaunt in the sunny California weather but a nice treat between business meetings. She took me to a hella sweet Thai place where I ordered some flat noodle seafood vegetable contraption that I can’t pronounce, shrimp tempura and tasted some of her yellow curry chicken. Did I mention scrumptilicious! The leftovers we sent to her future husband for final consumption, he appreciated this

Great eats and great company make for a great night even with the slight jet-lag. Insert I’ve been on a lot of planes in the past few days right, this is rhetorical.

We hashed about He Who Must Not Be Named, evidently I forgot to tell her all the dramaticals. I tire of telling the tale. Anywho I spilled and she listened and then of course gave me the sistah girl oh no he didn’t face when I told her he called from the foreign number to get me to answer. As a true friend she did ask if I’m alright and I told her I’m fine, which is true it’s water under the bridge now.

And shocking news to her, not you faithful readers, that I’ve sorta been seeing Mailroom Boy. She gave me the side-eye for not telling her sooner.

Model Friend: Have you sexed him?
Me: Hell no! Just can’t picture it in real life. (No need to go into the dream sequence but as many have pointed out what happens in your subconscious is not indicative of what you want or desire to happen in the flesh.)
Model Friend: That’s a strong no…why can’t you go there?
Me: I don’t know.
Model Friend: Well you better figure it out soon because you already set the date kiss expectation and you know what that leads to.
Me: Maybe I should test it out right…
Model Friend: Uh yeah…NO!

We both laugh and change the topic. A little later I share a little morsel, part of the reason I presume why I can’t go there with him. Now underneath my killer drive to scale the corporate ladder, there is a part of me that wants the picket fence and what comes along with that little girl fantasy. But and it’s a big but Mailroom Boy already has half of that fantasy.

Let me explain. There’s something to be said, in my humble opinion and maybe this makes me slightly old fashioned, about sharing firsts with your husband, in particular buying a joint home, having children or hell even trivial stuff like sky diving, whatever. I don’t know I could be wrong I’ve never been married. Granted I don’t want children but as I told Model Friend I am completely willing to sacrifice that major lack of a want for a husband. And in that case if I were to go against my own grain I want my greatest sacrifice to be his first child, point blank period. On that I can make no concession. And because of this I may be very single for a very long time to come. In Mailroom Boy’s case he already has a 7 year old daughter, cute kid, not mine.

Model Friend says that I over-think everything. She asked why I was putting this much thought into one a guy when he’s probably not putting that much thought into me outside of do I like her don’t I like. I didn’t have an answer that night besides I thought she was right. On my wonderific (that is sarcasm) flight back to Philadelphia, the late night red eye from LAX I had time to really think about our conversation.

Seriously a lot of time to think considering the woman screaming behind me in Cambodian at her unruly children kicking my seat for 5+ hours not to mention I couldn’t even get a blanket because they were sold out. The flight attendants said something to her multiple times and her oldest son, he was seated across the aisle sort of translated. My assumption is she didn’t speak English at all but you don’t have to understand or speak English to know that at 1AM in the morning your kids should be sleep and you shouldn’t be yelling. You know putting your finger to your lips and mouthing shhhhhssshhh is universal, at least I thought so. Either way I could still hear and feel the commotion with iPod so I had a lot of time to think, my favorite pastime. Please excuse the digression.

It really wasn’t thought I was putting into Mailroom Boy per se as much as it was thought about what I want out of my life (Quarter-Life Crisis Anyone). True life isn’t an equation and love isn’t the X, to solve for. But at the end of the day I can’t be anyone but me, a person more driven by logical analysis than overrun by emotion. Minus two of course, I put my faith and emotions in two men in this young life. One of the two failed miserably shaping the Faith I am today. The other, Future Husband will be forever the one who got away and maybe because of that I am destined to see-saw through men who never quite meet the bar. Our lives, Future Husband and I, were in two very different places at the time and I wasn’t ready to share his path, end of story (sort of there’s a lot more but this post is already past my normal length). Settling just doesn’t seem like the appropriate option.

Anywho, Model Friend said that I need to accept my sidity, she may be on to something. My absolute number one pet peeve is lacking motivation. From what I know of Mailroom Boy he seems completely OK with his situation which I can’t stomach. And for him maybe it’s not a situation. I on the other hand see it very much as one. I asked him about his job and he told me that he took his current position because it’s easy and he can get away with doing whatever he wants which is normally nothing. Although recently he said he thinks he needs a career since turning 33 it’s about time. Interesting, but as Granny SJ says the proof is in the pudding. He is very unaggressive about his future, I don’t like that. I want someone who’s future oriented while I do live in the now I also plan for tomorrow. Someone with a similar theme is necessary or I will be a grumpy tomato.

OK I’ve already shared the child thing and how I feel about it so there’s no need to harp on the issues I see here. Not to mention that I don’t appreciate how he downs his daughter’s mother. As I’ve explained to him before his daughter’s mother is a reflection of him, he chose her. She didn’t impregnate herself, I make no concessions here and will not stand for the bad mouthing because I don’t know the woman and his side of the situation is just that, his side of the story. I asked him if she trapped him, he said no; well zip your lips then.

And this is just me being very sidity I know but it is what it is, I don’t want to be responsible for driving “us” everywhere or housing “us” if it’s late and we need somewhere to stay. I am not a teenager and don’t believe in the keep it quiet while my mom is sleep rule. Granted I have a roommate but at any moment I can kick my brother out and live alone, he doesn’t have that option since he lives in his Aunt’s home. You can’t make rules when it’s not yours. And I presume this wouldn’t bother me so much if he could at least pick me up. I drive for work I don’t want to have to drive for play all the time.

This also got under my skin on the night we went to the diner but I didn’t let it show because I don’t wave my money in anyone’s face (not that I have money because I feel the crunch of the recession like everyone else). When we’ve actually gone out in the past I’ve always offered to go dutch because I don’t want him to think I’m some gold digger, not that it would really apply in this situation. He’s never taken me up on my offer. Anywho our diner bill was a measly 14 bucks, I repeat 14 bucks…his card was declined. No no no! I’m not upset about paying the bill, I am curious about his financial responsibility though.

OK you guys can tell me how unreasonable and flakey and whatever I am being but at the end of the day I feel women seek men who make them feel secure. I feel not one ounce of security with Mailroom Boy. On a positive note, he’s sweet as pie, an absolute gentleman, can talk to him for hours without tiring and he makes me laugh…there’s something to be said for all of those things!

PS. The Little Brother said, “Damn dude need to get his shit right yah mean!”

Oh and he doesn’t like dogs….WTF?????

P.S.S I didn’t have to go to upstate Jersey today, I am all types of happy because Insomnia is back in full effect. Kick rocks Insomnia for real.

Again work pulled me off to some obscure location Friday morning. This time it required getting up at the butt crack of dawn. Luckily that is just my time so it wasn’t all that bad. Instead of my usual 5:45AM start I pushed it up a bit to 5AM on the dot. Truly no harm no foul considering I am an early bird, Granny SJ would be oh so proud.

Thinking about it I should give Granny SJ a call. I haven’t spoken to her in awhile….wonder if she’s still riding the Deacon…

Anywho I didn’t do a week in review post last week because well nothing material actually happened last week besides De-He Who Must Not Be Name-atized my room. It wasn’t that difficult…just some random artifact from Tunisia and removal of the ceremonious washcloth, towel and toothbrush.

Guess I should mention that while working by my lonesome at the client site in Jersey my mind wandered to He Who Must Not Be Named. I guess it was the isolation that made my mind race….not sure. It wasn’t a bad thought just a random WTF moment that passed as quickly as it came. Picked up the receiver but remembered he is away in Tunisia at his cousin’s wedding celebration, laughing no doubt. Considered leaving a narsty message but I left that thought right where it started and said, “Faith grow the f*ck up, this isn’t junior high anymore. Act like a frigging adult and stop wasting mind power thinking of vengeful plots and go back to work.” I actually said that out loud to myself…profanity and all, good thing I was alone…

Moving right along, after an unimpressive/impressive day in Northern Jersey the Powers that be released me early to scurry home and attempt to beat both the Jersey and PA traffic. Obviously the Powers and Mother Nature aren’t on speaking terms because mid way (or what would have been mid way through the ride home) I was stuck in an extra hr or so of traffic not to mention the mild tsunami outside my window. I did of course travel prepared and had umbrella ready, willing and able to do its part not to become the beginning of the end of my hair. We all know how obsessive I am about the follicles.

During the monsoon, Mailroom Boy sent a text asking if I was alright, given the treacherous weather and asked if I wanted to get together. Hmmmmmm At nearly the same moment (that’s really just dramatics but very close in proximity) The Best Friend sent an SOS text crying (if you could hear a cry in text form) that she needed a girls night in. You know where my loyalties lay. I cancelled plans with Mailroom Boy, abrupt I know but he understood.

Braving the element I stopped at the Wine & Spirits (those not punished to live in Philadelphia the Wine & Spirits store is the only place you can purchase alcohol) and picked up an old friend, Vodka. I was sure that The Best Friend had her sidekick Rum handy or possibly Tequila, not really a fan of either. Rum I just don’t like and well Tequila will have me taking my panties off faster than…well never mind me and Tequila aren’t girl night in appropriate.

Girls night in turned into Bitch-fest X or IX honestly I’ve lost count at this point. In general I am not a man-hater. Even though I grew up with the most despicable, deplorable representation of man possible in the Man Wander Married I still can’t bring myself to discount men totally. Maybe I am hopelessly romantic deep down or something. Anywho, the Best Friend opened up about Dapper Dan in a way I never seen coming. Alcohol confessions are the best. The long and short of it, without spreading her business in the streets because I heart her and this is my blog to revel the cutes and uglies of Faith not dish dirt about my friends, he stole something from her.

Not literally…emotionally. In the past I was quick to point out to The Best Friend and others that Dapper Dan should be given another shot at love. Unfortunately my friend felt otherwise and now I understand it is with good reason. Yes I already knew the jacked up, asshole dude things he’d done in the past but somewhere inside the core that is me I felt he truly loves her or else he was just a glutton for punishment. In any case and I am paraphrasing here she said that she gave herself to him in a way that was unlike any way she’d ever given or thought she was able to give to anyone (yes I know this has no back story and it won’t unless she cares to blog about it) and when he did the jerk immature things guys do he stole that part of her that she had given to him and she doesn’t think she will ever give that much again.

I wanted to cry for her but I am not big on tears. Well I did a little but she didn’t know. An empathy tear slid down my face that I buried in a pillow. After the confession I did mention that if she continues this way, he wins. I don’t want to see him win for the Best Friend’s sake. A little piece of my heart for Dapper Dan slipped away that night.

Saturday I cancelled on Mailroom Boy again. I know but I felt like the comfort of friends, people who’ve known me longer and get me without explanation. We caught a flick, The Orphan…good movie it was worth the ticket. We (The Best, Nurse Friend and I) ended up at our favorite diner breaking bread and telling jokes. It felt like old times…rarely are all three of us together, sort of our own Golden Girls minus 30 years. We hashed out some more relationship ish and I floated away to a memory of Future Husband and returned (all unnoticed by my friends) to the convo without spite…that’s a first.

Growing up…maybe…taking my own advice….possibly…When I can write the post about Future Husband I know all of “it” whatever it is will be gone….

Sunday we bowled to victory yet again. We are the team to beat, booyah! Since I’d cancelled nearly three weeks in a row with Mailroom Boy this weekend would make it four so instead I stuck to my word and took in a late night flick, The Collector, also a good movie and worth the ticket. I laughed in the face of my 5:45AM alarm and spent the entire movie (minus the time when I was watching and exchanging flirty banter) thinking about why I was there and if I could see any possible future with this man. I didn’t get any answers.

We spent an additional hour or so in my car having quiet conversation (man is he a talker). He told me that he liked my dress. We talked a little about our families…mostly surface stuff with morsels of depth. I mentioned my un-comfortableness with our work situation. He smiled and said that would explain some of my behavior and how long did I think it would take for me not be uncomfortable….no answer. He could see my wheels turning and he kissed away those thoughts but by the time I got home, close to 2AM, they were ripe on my mind again…



Side Note: The could be completely incidental and maybe the person realized he/she didn’t really like my writing style but I lost a follower after the whole Obama race post….guess I can’t please everyone.

Unexpected advantage number one, I regained about 5 hrs on Saturday to do pretty much whatever I wanted. Unexpected advantage number two I no longer had to cart the Little Brother to and from his treatment every Saturday in order to make my appointment, this was a major plus. In particular because I allowed myself about 2 additional hours of sleep, however with the whole can you be in NYC on Friday (which really means drop everything and make it to NYC) I lost my standing Friday. Ms. Faith is not a happy grasshopper.

Side note I ended up riding the train with a rather handsome man from Wilmington. I have a thing for salt and pepper hair, shoot me. He was pleasant, of course married, the good ones always are. We talked about my job and his trips from Wilmington to NYC. Maybe I need to consider a move below the Mason Dixon to find a southern gentleman….although White Chocolate aka Traffic Court was southern…his drawl was sexy but my God issues…..excuse the non sequitur.

Hopefully this trip signifies the end of conference calls on Saturday and 12-14hr work days. Although being busy as a consultant is better than the beach (I hate the beach which in turn makes me cry for leaving claims sometimes…most times). God save me from the beach. So maybe I shouldn’t complain. (Let me de-consultantify that for you the beach means no client billable work instead you’re stuck endlessly in presentation creation and research (I might as well poke my eyeballs out with a jagged piece of glass)….it is not the grand vacation it implies by its name.)

Anywho, the train ride allowed me time to think (in between convo with Salt & Pepper). I have been in a bit of a funk lately. Maybe the change of scenery will lighten my mood. In a prior post I revealed that I date the same man in a different body. And it’s true. Everyone I’ve taken semi seriously (or as serious as I am capable of doing given my commitment issues) has been the same, Selfish, in his own way but selfish none the less!

Yup I narrowed it down, gold stars and a cartwheel for me (not really)! As I strove in all things to date someone who embodied everything The Man Wander Married didn’t I end up with the number one trait of his I hate, minus his drinking. Even Future Husband was selfish. Right down to the last morsel of the relationship it had to be about him (I’ll tell that story another day…maybe)

They say daughters marry their fathers….God I hope not I don’t think my sanity or heart could take it!

Side note: Sorry to end seemingly somber, I am not. With this realization I am given new energy, the rest of the summer should be interesting!

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