YAY!!!! MY CAR IS FIXED!!! Actually fixed. I found a new mechanic that is NOT interested in ripping me off. It’s amazing how nice it is to have a steering wheel I can trust and that I am *actually* supposed to be able to hear the radio over the sound of tires on pavement.
Odd couple of weeks, with a new job. That’s okay. I am keeping promises to myself. Not to get sucked back into daily anger rituals. I’ve been cooking more. A lot more. It means more dishes, but, I am happy. Sucks that I lost my scottish cookbook. I have crapped out, having lost a lot of skills, but I can’t help but laugh at myself. It’s been fun, having space in a kitchen again. I feel free. Free to fuck up, but also free to enjoy food again.
This crush I’ve got…. It’s been kicking me in the ass. Getting more comfortable with it. Slowly. Most days, I am super glad no one actually knows about it. OR the guy. Especially the guy. I am turning beet red, just typing that out. This is so damned silly.
I’ve always thought something was wrong with me, because I don’t lust after people. Only a very, very minuscule amount of people. I can count on one hand and have fingers left over. Parts of people, I’ve found attractive. Parts. But I see people as… people, I guess. Not bouncy partners.
I’ve even had people get “involved,” thinking things they are dead wrong about. Because those friendships or connections hit other sides of me. I’ve let go of friends who do this- deliberately interfere because they assume it’s a sex thing when it had to do with aspects of my life they don’t understand. I know it comes out sounding nearly the same. But it is so…. not. There is someone I owe my life to. He won’t see it that way. I will. It sounds stalker-ish. I forever will. He’s lead an extreme life. So have I. We had a conversation one day. A strange, intense conversation. Without realizing what, exactly, I had said, or how it was interpreted, I found forgiveness for the death of my first child. It’s a precious gift. I absolutely didn’t trust the person I was talking to, beyond a certain point. I know, without doubt or hesitation, that that gift that was put in my path and I wouldn’t be where I am, now, without it. And to have someone else, who didn’t understand what they were messing with, get involved and keep the person I had been speaking to, and I apart, where I could have given that same care and understanding back, where it was needed and unspokenly asked for… It rips at me. Nothing I can do about that. Except end the second friendship, with the person who interfered. Why in the world should I ever be ashamed for being given a gift like I was?
I mention this because it’s getting ridiculous out there. And I don’t mean Covid or the racial crap.
Expressing interest is somehow wrong, these days. Like it’s offensive. When the real problem is is not being able to accept “no” or “we’re not compatible.” I’m not understanding this.
I made promises to myself six years ago. And I haven’t gone back on them. What to do and what to accept.
And I guess, I am coming back around to that. With this crush I’ve got. Nothing would come of it. I know that. I don’t expect it to.
But I can say: I am healed enough, now, to even think about dating again. Even better? There’s someone that I actually put in my spank bank. And I do have a type. I had a friend point that out to me. She was able to give a physical description without me even having to say one word. I nearly wound up on the floor, giggling. I still do. Giggle.
Silly. Very silly.
But I am smiling. A big, shit-eating grin. It’s been plastered on my face for weeks now. I am letting it stay. Right along with the other one I am getting for being back in my kitchen.