A terrible lie.

Two weeks ago I made plans with someone I knew from High School to go out for coffee. He comes through my office periodically as he is a detective for our local City government. Since High School, I had not truly spoken to him one on one outside of small talk and the only personal information I truly knew about him was that he had a daughter from small talk regarding our kids.

Prior to Halloween our paths crossed at a community Emergency Responders meet and greet trick or treat event; we nodded in recognition of one another, but continued on with our children without speaking.

Upon making plans to meet for coffee, his daughter fell ill and he cancelled plans tentatively due to her needing him. We joked about it and that was that. Until he text me later that night asking if I still wanted to go out.

Within the hour we were on our way. We joked about complex coffee orders and rattling my thermos of iced coffee at him, stated he was not allowed to have a more complex order than my own.

I had an iced espresso with toffee syrup and he took his coffee black with a splash of cream.

We drove around the county talking about different places we passed. We spoke of skip days and the lack of entertainment available to us as teenagers. We talked about our kids with stars in our eyes and pride in our voices.

The moon was begging to fill the sky and we got out and stared at the stars. The creek alongside the old dirt road roared loud enough to deafen any other sounds. His hands cupped around mine to warm them and he offered his jacket. His fingers around my wrists were unfamiliar; his mouth a stranger. He assisted me back into his truck where my nose and feet tingled their way back to warmth. I would joke about needing to dress more appropriately next time, he joked about there being a next time. Red flag. He requested I not speak of this to our mutual friend he worked with. Red flag.

The next day I asked if he made it home ok knowing he lived 45 minutes away. Hours later he replied with an apology for being unobtainable, explaining he'd been busy with yard work. Nothing sat right. Nothing felt right. I did my research. He had felt safe because I'd known of him since we were kids. He had felt safe because he was an officer and if I couldn't trust his word, who's could I trust?

He is married.

I text him that I knew and promptly blocked his number and erased any trace of him.

We had spoken of how our relationships had crumbled. He mentioned knowing of my ex and his wife. He knew the betrayal and of the devastation that followed. How DARE he do this to his own wife, to his daughter.

I will never understand how a human can destroy another human's ultimate trust in them. How they can willingly set this example for their children as to how a man should treat a woman. How anyone can so easily lie about something they swore to God and vowed to their spouse breaks me.

This week blog post is written off of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop prompt: lie.

Red Flags.

These things evoke an incredible wave of anxiety in me. I have survived this and worse. I will not settle for this or allow it ever again. I am stronger than the person who ignored these signs the first time they happened.

The next time I trust someone with my heart they will protect my heart, not scheme their way around these red flags to “protect” me. The next time I trust someone with my heart, they will do everything in their power to cultivate and nurture my heart because they love me. I am worthy of protecting, I am worthy of feeling as adored and cherished as I believe them to be as well. 

• The smell of alcohol on their breath when they crawl into bed after I’ve fallen asleep.

• Little white lies.

• Unnecessary and unpredictable rage/anger.

• Pictures of me while I’m sleeping or pictures I don’t remember that involve me.
   
• Undermining my wishes or requests without explaining why.

Just thinking about these things crawl my skin and make me feel uneasy. They tie my stomachs in knots; I can feel unwanted hands on my skin, smell the sour sweet stench of stale alcohol on their breath, their mouth on the back of my neck.

I don't ever want to feel this way again. Putting these words out here is a reminder of why I've fallen out of love in the past. Putting these words out here is like a refresher course on remembering my worth and partly a syllabus to those interested or thinking they are interested. I'm worthy. I deserve stability and consistency and respect.

Hi. I’m awkward and complicated.

I’m a sucker for starry cold nights, but I’ll also talk to you like you know the names of the constellations I’m talking about.

I like coffee, but to me an iced espresso is far superior to a cup of hot black coffee.

I’ve enjoyed all genres of movies, but my (not so secret now) favorites will always be obscure artsy films.

I don’t hate any particular style of music. Music has to hit me emotionally for me to thoroughly enjoy it. No goosebumps, no repeat. I listen to classical when I need to get zoned in. I like hip hop, rap and classic rock when I’m driving as I want to feel it down in my bones; my driving anxieties need me to feel grounded in the vehicle so the bass vibrating through me gives me that peace. If I want to come unhinged and wild, I’ll play Florence or another melodic soulful singer and dance around my house, hair wild and arms wide; singing along from the depths of my being.

I romanticize a lot of life. I want to feel and experience love without all the trauma of my past relationships like a rag being held over my face.

I want the silent stillness of dark, cold nights under starry skies and in warm arms. But I also want the indulgence of crisp sheets against my skin, endless coffee and a porch view that reveals miles upon miles of uninterrupted solitude.

I want to worship our God without feeling guilty that you’re not by my side or worse, embarrassed because I felt Him move in me and I made a joyful noise during worship music.

I want to get my hands dirty creating art, breathing life into my works, and tending to my plant babies as well as my real live in the flesh (not quite babies anymore) babies.

I don’t want to chew you up and spit you out. That’s not fair and it’s demeaning to you as a human, whoever you may be. I simply want to live as a house cat; willingly loved on my terms but allowed to soak in the radiant warmth of the sun alone some days.

Can it please be Friday already?

It's no surprise that I live where I grew up. I am comfortable with the health care providers in the area, my kids oftentimes have the same teaches and my family is a stone's throw away. Well, not an ACTUAL stone's throw as I've never been a sure shot and 3 miles is a bit dramatic. Everyone for the most part, knows EVERYONE here. If I have an emergency, the odds are good I will be met with someone I either went to school with or is married to someone I went to school with or I've run into through one of the jobs I've worked in my lifetime.

The job I currently work deals with 200ish people at any given point, so the odds are good that someone is going to get in trouble with the law at least once a season whether it's criminal or not is another story. When the officers come through we know the drill; we'll identify them (or not), gossip for a bit and then get on with our days. One officer in particular I went to High School with and he has asked me out for a drink on multiple occasions and I've shot him down for one reason or another, but mostly because I've been in a relationship for the past two years. I knew that after last week's shenanigans I really wanted to just go out and decompress, so I flipped through my business cards till I got to his and shot him an email.

I didn't expect a quick response, but when I got into the office Monday morning I found that he'd responded back with his number. We spent most of Monday texting back and forth about making plans, what kind of drinks we like, and then he showed up. My coworker of course thought there was criminal business being handled, but nah girl, I was the official business. We made tentative plans for this Friday night and I'm so ready. It's exciting knowing that there's something in the works as far as hanging out with PEOPLE! NEW-ISH PEOPLE!! I even flipped through my High School yearbooks Monday night as even though I can remember his presence in school, I'm fairly certain we didn't hang out with any of the same crowds.

It was a trip to have my kids pick me out of the Drama and Creative Writing club photos of so many years gone by. Apparently Mom hasn't changed her look in 20 something years and that's not TOO terrible in my opinion. I mean, I do wake up every day thinking I'm still 17 until my body reminds me that I've birthed 3 bowling balls and this skin (and these hips) are scarred for life. My innermost dialogue still sounds like 17 year old me.

So here it is, not even halfway through the week and mama is THIRSTY and ready for adult conversation!!! BRING IT ON.

I made a mistake.

Because I become fully absorbed in the lives of those I love, I have a tendency to come off as leading someone on. I don't mean to, but I did. I like the closeness of a hug or the rhythm of a good slow dance. Of course, touch is only welcome on my terms as I'm pretty big on people not coming into my personal bubble unless initiated. So, my fault. 100% my fault. And I'm owning this because at the time I didn't see the issue.

I broke up with Anthony two weeks ago. The first week was HARD because I so badly wanted my friend and he wouldn't open up to me. That's fair, I mean... I broke up with him. I pulled the plug and ended our two year relationship. We had spent most of every other weekend during the first 75% of our relationship together, and the rest of that time was spent long distance. Upon his move back home, it became increasingly clear that our relationship had played out; our purpose for one another had come to an end romantically. However, this past reason I needed to relax and I wanted a drink, so I visit him at our local tavern where he was working for the night. One beer, two beers and then we were dancing. I can't even remember the songs, but I remembered how nice it felt to have my head on his shoulder and how comforting it was to breathe him in. There was nothing else as far as touch or affection went, but it felt nice enough that I ended up arguing with him about it later that night and being accused of playing with his emotions. Ouch.

So now there's distance, which is expected but necessary. Before I left the office last night my son asked if he could hitch a ride with Anthony to see his friend's band performance. Of course I let him, Anthony is a big part of his transition from 2 parent household to 1 and all the emotions he dealt with during so many changes. His sons and mine are friends now and that's amazing for a kid who is surrounded by kids at school who he shares no commonalities with aside from Drama class and being an awkward angsty tweenager. I love his kids, and it's more than obvious he loves mine. 20+ year ago me would be doing back flips over having our kids be friendly and sharing experiences together.

That, THAT is what I don't want to lose. I don't want to lose the connection between our 7 kids. I don't want to lose the relationship they've built with "Mr. Anthony" as they trust him and love his silliness. I don't want to lose my friend either.

So now I need to set up healthy boundaries for the both of us and boundaries are the worst.