Emelster

My sister is currently in the running to win a free birth.  Basically, this company will pay for all her birth expenses.  She and her husband really need this.  They’re currently in second place and tonight is the last night.  Please click on the link below, find Stephanie Tyrrell Preston’s comment on the page and like her comment!  PLEASE!!! I WOULD BE SO THANKFUL AND IT TAKES LESS THAN 30 SECONDS!  If you help, leave a note below and I will randomly pick someone from those comments and that person will receive a free item of their choice from my crochet shop.

You know those times where you literally give something your all and then one little thing goes wrong and suddenly everything is a disaster?  Yeah, today is that day.

My husband and I were feeding the missionaries today.  No big deal really, except that this is something that adults do.  This is something that my mom does all the time, flawlessly.  So I was ready to prove that I could do it too.  I was going to make a recipe that would make a nice dinner and that I knew well, maybe lasagna or even meatloaf.  Things I’d done before successfully.  But hubby was really hoping for homemade pizza the way his mother made it.  Meaning from scratch.  So, wanting him to be proud, I got the recipe, spent more than usual on groceries to pay for the many ingredients (pulling a bit from my spending allowance, but it would be worth it), and got down to business.

I spent the night before getting ready.  Grocery shopping, laundry, dishes, and cleaned the house.  I even baked banana bread for dessert and an extra loaf for the missionaries to take home.

Today, I woke up early and made the dough for the crust (it had to rise for a while).  Then together, hubby and I made the pizza’s using special homemade sauce, 2 kinds of cheese and 3 meats.  We covered them and put them in the fridge.

After hubby left for work I did a final clean up and, when it was time, I put the pizzas in the oven... and burned them.  Like, burned the living daylights out of them.  Black and crispy.

“Okay,” I think, “backup plan... do I have a backup plan?  Do I even own any food?”  And the doorbell rings.  There are the missionaries.  Of course they can’t come inside because I’m home alone so they got to wait out on the stairs for hubby to come home while I did my best to whip together a dinner of Orange Chicken and Rice.

By the time Hubby made it home the backup dinner was almost ready and we were able to sit down and they seemed to enjoy the meal.  I didn’t really notice my food much as I was in an internal anxiety melt down.  Finally I served the banana bread.  The inside of the banana bread didn’t cook all the way.  Luckily I got a couple good pieces off the end and they seemed to enjoy it.  At the end of the evening they left, seemingly very happy.  Hubby then had to go back to work, though he stayed to try and talk me into feeling better about the whole thing.

My husband got me into cycling.  Can you believe it? ME!

Okay, so lately I’ve been in limbo.  I got married two months ago and about a week after my honeymoon the school world entered summer vacation.  I used to work for a school district so this meant I also entered a time of no income.  This is also my last year at that job so I had to quit the job (for time restriction reasons) and start the search for a new one.  

Due to this job search I had about a month of no job, meaning I had a month to get used to living with someone new and running a household.  It gave me a chance to figure out how this all worked and get into a bit of a schedule.

About a month ago I was offered a subbing position at a special school that runs programs all year long.  I took the job as it would lead to a job during the school year that would better fit my time needs.  For the first 2 weeks it felt like they were always calling me in.  Great!  I could use the income and the job!  But after those first weeks I haven’t heard a thing and I feel like I’m living in a limbo land.

I’m done.  I’m just so fucking done.  Life is shit.  Why shouldn’t mine join the pile?  I have got to stop doing this to myself.

I thought it was torture before, seeing him, kissing, making out, and then having to leave.  I didn’t know torture until he was no longer mine at all.

And now, the one person I’ve never lied to its the person I’m currently feeding a stream of fake “I’m okay with everything” to. It’s like breaking up all over again, except this time with jealousy with the sadness. I don’t know how to explain it.

Maybe now I can finally completely move past him. I hope so. Because this left over attachment to him has been bogging down any chance at a relationship after him. I feel like I’ll never be free of him, of my love and need for him.I know he thinks I’ve moved on and that he should too, but really, I’m just trying to seal that hole he left.

I know for a fact he thinks I moved on quick and easy. I wish I could tell him that’s false. I wish I could tell him how my mind is so often on him. I wish I could tell him how I got swept into a relationship without realizing it. I wish I could tell him I spend most of my time cursing myself for not being happy with my situation.  I wish I could tell him how so many times all I wanted was him, with me, beside me, inside me, whatever, I just needed him and the only thing that kept me from him was the fact that I didn’t want to screw up any happiness he may have gained.  I wish I could tell him how I stress over what to wear when I think I might see him, how much he still burns in me, despite how I’ve tried to move forward like he tells me to. Damn it. I wish… I wish he knows how much it tears me up inside knowing he’s with someone else, knowing that she is with him and gets to do what I long to.

I wish I could tell him I still love him.

But I can’t.

My time has passed while I was trying to figure out how to become the girl I was before he changed my life.

My time it’s over and now she will know his thoughts, she will know his body, she will be the one he wants when he’s sick. She’ll be his. He’ll be hers. And I’ll continue floating. Floating down a river I’m not sure I belong on anymore. Hoping that maybe I’ll find someone I can love enough to fill the “ass” shaped hole in my heart.