SPiNNiNG: Mixed Tape by Jacks Mannequin <3

Growing up isn’t always the easiest thing to do. Decisions become more difficult, things aren’t black or white like when you were younger. Growing up sometimes means letting go of things that you know you’ve been holding on for far too long, for all the wrong reasons and finding the strength to say goodbye. To close that chapter of your life, even if you don’t want to.

A friend (and ex boyfriend) of mine had this little inside thing. And I don’t really know about him, but this inside thing meant the world to me. And even if it was kinda silly and stupid, it was one of those things that only the two of you got (like an inside joke without the joke). And back when it first happened, it was probably the most epic thing a boy has ever said to me and it was completely out of blue especially since at the time we weren’t even together. But we were always kinda on an off and half way when we were younger. Which kind of makes it weird that now that we’re all grown up, we’re still really close. But maybe that’s why too?

Speaking of, now that we’re grown up… I knew he wanted this thing back and I was hesitant to give it back because it was one of those “uh no, you gave this to me, MINE back off bitch!” kind of things. But I guess I selfishly kept it, even though it was given to me. And I guess I just hated the idea of him giving it to someone else. Made me feel less important and more of just a memory of his past. But I guess that’s kinda selfish since I’m married, isn’t it? It sounds worse than it is, trust me. But at least I’m being honest. Yes, I hate(d) the idea of him giving it to someone else and forgetting about me. But that’s just life. Things don’t always go down the path that you created for it. And because of that, you should probably close the chapter.

I admit, I was hoping he would say something besides being excited. But we’re not kids, winter doesn’t make him think of me anymore and he’s not in love with me anymore. And I guess by holding on to this thing, it was like my denial object. No one likes knowing that someone who means a lot to you doesn’t feel the way about you like they did, even if it was years ago. No one wants that confirmation.

“What” and “If” are two words as non-threatening as words can be. But put them together side-by-side and they have the power to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Ain’t that the truth?

Time has passed, we’ve grown, we’ve changed. I know you’ll always have my back and that’s more than I can even ask of you at this point. I won’t sit here and wonder what if because of the choices we made we’re where we are with each other now. Still amazing friends who are (mostly) honest with each other. Thank you for the open invitation into your confusing and complex mind, and you know you’re always invited to mine. Enjoy your gift back from me. We had fun while it lasted. Thank you, for being you.

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I wish I could write blog entries like I use to back then. But I can’t anymore. I was obsessed with love and figuring it out. Of taking apart my life and my failed relationships and piecing them back together to a point where they started to make sense.

And Fall gets me in that mood. That mood where I’d drown in slow jams and think of all the boys that broke my heart, and just get really really sad. But it’s always the best writing when I’m really really really sad. Now a days there’s only one boy who can break my heart but it’s different. I don’t try to take apart our arguments and put them back together because unlike the other boys, I know where his heart is. I know where his mind is. He’s not that mysterious boy with the spikey hair and tail anymore that I’d spend days trying to figure out.

And that kinda kills the fun of my writing.

I don’t even really remember what it felt like to miss being with someone. Or to miss someone in more than a friend way. And I really really miss it. Now all I have are the songs that bring me back a feeling that feels so close but so far away.

In fact my parents still freak out when I bake even though I’m 26 and I’ve gone to culinary school.

I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I’m obsessed with food or that I still buy food related magazines and dream of owning my own bookcase filled with nothing but cook books (I have book cases filled with Young Adult books but not many cook books, odd right?)… but as I’m sitting here, flipping through another food magazine on my Nook (which is AWESOME, technology today…) I’m wondering — why don’t I bake anymore?

As I mentioned, I have gone to culinary school and it was the BEST experience of my life. I don’t do a lot of baking from scratch on my own because like I mentioned, parents freak out, but when I was in that kitchen… I was in a whole other place. I perfected every project and time went by so fast. I loved the challenges, I loved the outcome and I loved figuring it all out.

I’ve mentioned going back, but within the 6 years between then and now, my husband has sat me down and had multiple talks with me about how I should focus on my dream — writing. And sometimes it offends me and sometimes it makes me sad, but I know he’s right. Maybe once I get my writing down then I can venture off back into the magical land of the kitchen.

Til then, I’ll just keep admiring my cookbooks and magazines and baking little things here and there with my husband :). I’m glad that no matter what crazy project I have in mind when I wake up he’s always more than willing to figure it out with me.

I had a dream about you last night, you ignored me. I didn’t attempt to catch your attention. I could tell you didn’t want me there. And then you left.

And I don’t know why I had that dream or why you were in it. I haven’t thought of you in a while and I thought all of this was done with. But I woke up sad and heavy. I went back to our last conversations. Our last real conversations. And there were things in common with them. You spent a great deal of time telling me I was an idiot and making it very clear you were disappointed in me and I wish I could had told you back then the truth about the situation. I wish I wasn’t scared to tell you, or anyone. But how could I when he would turn everything I said around and with his determination to ruin my life?

I know nothing can bring you back or the friendship we had. And I know I’ve written about this one too many times already and I wish I could just let it go. But no matter what you said, I do believe it is my fault.

And I’m sorry.

Nine years ago today, you saw me at Pier with my boyfriend at the time. But I didn’t see you. And after meeting you, and you telling me that odd fact, we managed to build an amazing friendship. That fell apart six years ago. And to this day, I still wonder why. I still wonder why I can’t call you on the days I just need to hear your advice. And at the same time, I wonder why do I still feel that way? It’s been six years since we’ve had a real conversation. I don’t even remember what our conversations were like, it’s like having a hazy memory where you get the gist of it, but it doesn’t really make much sense.

Remember that night when we were at the ferry building with Sam and Paco? And remember how you told me you always wanted me in your life and you said if I ever wasn’t in your life you’d think to yourself “I’m glad that bitch is out of life, MAN! I’m an idiot…” do you still feel that way today? I highly doubt it, but it’s fine. We were kids, seriously what did we know?

Like a friend of mine had said recently, thank you for being my friend THEN. But this is now, not then. I’m not zel anymore. I’m nothing like her, actually. And I’ve never been so much happier since I dropped her. Zel is dead and gone, and so are you.

So goodbye, to the best friend I never wanted to let go. But today, I realize, I need to. Because too many years have passed and even if I had seen you today, what would I say? The truth is, I don’t know you anymore. And the truth is, you don’t know me at all.

And to be completely honest, as much as I hate to say it… I’d rather we keep it this way.

Oh Fourth of July, you’re always full of surprises, aren’t you?

Of course, if you know me, you’ll know I keep blogs and journals as if it were oxygen. And writing a novel that closely resembles my past… of course I turn to my blogs when I’m stuck. But reading over those days, trying to re-live them in my head… I can see them, I can hear the conversations but I don’t feel anything anymore. I can’t grab the emotion I need to finish this chapter. No matter how hard I try. Ask me 8 years ago to tell you what heartbreak feels like, I wouldn’t shut up. Ask me today, I couldn’t answer you. Because I don’t know anymore.

And I thought, I’d be happy. The day that I’d wake up and realize that feeling was FINALLY gone. I’d wake up and not wondering where you are or who you’re with or what you’re doing and I’d be happy. I’d be free of you. I wake up today, and every other other day for the 6 years and I am finally free of you. And I’m happy that I am, but I lost that emotion. The one that drove all of my best writing and creativity. Who woulda fuckin thought.

I still feel heartbreak, but it’s not exactly the same as before and it doesn’t last nearly as long. There’s nothing unknown as far as my love life goes. I literally crashed right into my “amazing person” earlier than I expected in my life and he’s not perfect but he keeps me dizzy with his touch, his kisses make everything go away and his hugs make me feel, for the first time in a long time, safe.

I’m no longer reckless (unless you hand me a credit card with no limit and tell me to shop til my heart’s content, then we’ll have a problem). I’m the responsible wife. I rely on my Wicked year planner and my Palm Pixi calender to keep me on track. I’m no longer careless or free, at least… free in the sense that I want to be.

So why did this person who never takes no for answer, who was her own independent person her whole life, who has some weird strange addiction to men… get married?

To be completely honest, sometimes… I wonder the same thing. Why did I give up the things that satisfy me… up? Because when I look at him, I couldn’t imagine myself being happier with anyone else. When I look at him, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had ever hurt him.

And even now, 6 years later and married… that thought still scares me. I don’t give a shit about any boy’s feelings. I don’t care enough to stay faithful! But I have been, for 6 solid years and sometimes I amaze myself because I’m not this sweet, caring, organized person who is willing to care for someone else and sacrifice the things she wants to make him happy. But I am, I am for him.

And his smiles, they make the fact that I’m not who I use to be… the fact I can’t go back to who I use to be… worth it.

And what’s even better? The days I struggle with craving that freedom, that recklessness… I’m free to tell him and he won’t look at me any different. Instead he’ll give me a hug, a kiss on the forehead and say “you’re fine, silly face”.

I dont dwell on my past half as much as I use to, in fact a lot of my past is a blur. But certain songs still bring up certain people, certain days, certain feelings. And sometimes, its a refreshing blast of memories. Like on a cold November night like this one.

In every life there will be one great love and one unforgettable heart break.

November was never a good month for me, majority of my break ups happen in November. My “unforgettable heart break” happened in November. I can deny you all I want, but no one hurt me as much as you did. And I cant figure out why, besides that I was young and stupid. You were a pretty decent boyfriend, a push over but decent. But everyone needs to feel the pain you gave me, its a big part of who made me who I am today. And I happen to like who I am today.

Moving on… I’m getting married. Wow. Me. Getting married. Never would had thought. Sure we’ve been together for almost six years (wow, six years, really?) but I just never really saw us getting married. I’m a lot like Ben Affleck in “How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days”. I figure we’re happy, why ruin it by getting married. And sure, I still think that. But a small itty bitty part of me is actually kinda excited. Shh, dont tell Martin I said that. I always thought that once you get married, or engaged, the past kinda just… disappears. You dont think of the past or what-could-had-been or why-did-that-end. Why I thought that is beyond me.

I guess I’m lucky. I’m lucky because my fiance is my best of all best friends. Literally. We talk about my exes, we talk about his exes, we try to figure out why our past relationships failed. We have real conversations about things like that. He knows how I feel about all of my exes, he knows the ones I wish I was still friends with or the ones hurt me. And he does what I always wished someone would do with that information. He uses to know who I am and how I am. Not against me, but as a better understanding of how I react to things. I’m lucky because in the last six years, he was able to figure who I had a crush on. At work, at school, to him it was so obvious. And he’d pick on me, not in a jealous boyfriend way but in a ooh-I’m-telling-him-you-like-him way. And sometimes between us, its just so easy to forget we’re together. Because the majority of the time, we dont feel like that. We feel like two best friends hanging out.

Words can not express how lucky and blessed and happy I am to have him. To have someone who’s just like me. Who sacrifices just to see a smile on their face. To spoil me with hugs and kisses and my favorite food “just because”. Who accepts every part of me, and who is completely in love with the tomboy side of me. Someone who’ll watch me put on lipstick, wipe it off with his finger, kiss me and whisper “you dont need it”. Someone who makes me feel so damn alive. He wont ask why I’m crying if I dont feel like telling him but he’ll hug the hell out of me until I’m spent, tuck me in bed and kiss me on the forehead and tell me to sleep it off.

I think back to exes and memories and the crazy fucked up crap you go through with them in high school and relationships that ended far too soon. And the boys I miss. And I look at him and I’m glad those relationship ended. I’m glad for all the fucked up crazy shit I went through. I’m glad I got kicked out school. I’m glad I had to repeat senior year. I’m so glad. I’m so glad to be here, with him. With this ring on my finger. With that ring on his.

I love you. I love you a million times. In a million different lifetimes. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you. My dope friend. My best friend. My babemerding. A million thank yous. For just being you <3.