I’m guilty of pushing the elevator button more than once. Maybe it’ll come faster that way. Maybe it’s taking so long because it didn’t register the first time I pushed it. Maybe I’m just impatient. Maybe.. Maybe.

Maybe you’re the elevator. I keep pushing your buttons thinking you’ll hurry up and figure out what’s here waiting for you: a good woman who just wants to be happy with you. Or maybe I’m being overly optimistic. Maybe I need to stop thinking that this time when I push the button the outcome will be different… That you’ll come around.. That you’ll finally open your doors and let me in.

Maybe I should stop, stop trying to rush you, stop holding out hope that you’ll get here when I want you to… or even at all. Maybe I need to realize that regardless of pushing the elevator button once, twice, five times that you’re going to get here on your own time.

Let’s just hope that maybe when you do finally get here I haven’t caught another elevator up.

says my big brother.

I’ve never been that kind of girl to just up and leave on a whim, to have flings, to not have a plan in my mind. Everything has to be calculated for me. I have to be sure of what the outcome will be in order to prevent myself from getting into a situation I’d rather not be in. And yet here I am with tickets bought, ready to step out of my element.

I think this change in me has a lot to do with the ending of Seven and I. I was in love. I planned out the future he said he wanted with me. I was a great woman to him and did everything I was supposed to do.. and it still didn’t work. I was unhappy. He never knew what he wanted and just couldn’t give me that full commitment. I can’t knock him. Sometimes people just aren’t ready, but I couldn’t wait another two years for him to finally come to his senses.

That whole relationship was my wake up call. It taught me that maybe my methodical way of going about life just wasn’t working. I’ve spent so much time with my thoughts lately and it made me realize I can’t focus on the future all the time. How can I really plan every moment when life throws in so many variables that.. fuck shit up? My worrying about the future only brought me more stress. I needed to sit back and enjoy these moments that I’ve been missing out on while trying to plan for what lies ahead.

And here’s where he comes in.. This one? I think he’s the beginning of me really going about life with that new outlook. I wouldn’t call him a fling. I mean this is definitely more than a crush.. word to LL. The only thing I’m really sure of with him is that I genuinely like him and where we’re at right now. I’m happy with letting us just be.. and enjoying my time spent with him, not trying to plan every kiss and encounter.

My situation with him, and honestly everything that has transpired over the last couple of months, have helped me realize that I can get more out of life when I simply.. well.. live. That is what I’m supposed to be doing at 22, right?

He said..

“I love you and I’m going to wait as long as it takes to be with you..”

He’d been hinting at it in previous conversations and visits, but had never before flat out said the words, “I love you.” The feelings were mutual. Honestly I felt that way before he ever said anything. Yet, as he whispered the words I longed to hear from him, I laid there not sure how to reply.

See the situation between us was a difficult one and had morphed into something confusing over the course of our friendship. I went from barely acknowledging Mr. Bewildering to spending hours lost in conversation with him. I could talk to him about any and everything. He made me laugh, made me smile, made me feel comfortable. We were good for each other.. or so I thought.

Then one day Mr. Bewildering up and disappeared. There were no explanations as to why. He was just gone. No, it wasn’t like he fell off the face of the earth. I still saw him around. He just chose to eradicate himself from my life. Pissed and perplexed couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt.

Three weeks later he was back apologizing. He made up some excuse as to why he had suddenly made himself scarce. A long embrace followed by “I’m sorry and I missed you” and I was back under his spell. That lasted all of a couple weeks.. and then he was gone.. again. I chalked it up as a L and kept it moving.

Months had passed and I had decided to check up on him. I no longer felt any ill will towards Mr. Bewildering. I guess that’s a case of me being too forgiving. A simple text turned into a long conversation and it was like we never missed a beat. This time I wasn’t interested in becoming his Mrs. I just sincerely missed his friendship. Soon I became the one he’d turn to to vent. I sat and listened about his relationship problems with his psychotic girlfriend. I gave the best advice I could. I could tell he really cared about her, so for his sake I hoped they worked out their issues… They didn’t.

Another couple of months had gone by and we were still pretty good friends. Then I got a text. ”I’m coming over.” Cool. We spent that night laughing, watching videos, enjoying each other’s company. Around 4 am I walked him to the door and he tried to kiss me. I dodged it, not wanting to get caught up in the same situation from before. But I kept seeing him, kept speaking to him and the inevitable happened.

Now we’re back to where the story began. You would think I’d learn not to trust him by this time. He had hurt me twice before. Why should this be any different? But as his presence became a constant fixture in my life, I couldn’t ignore my feelings anymore. I told him we were good for each other. He agreed. Well then maybe should be together. I wanted to give it a try. You would think he’d be happy to hear that after his previous proclamation right? Not quite. Suddenly he had his reservations and as much as I tried to appease him of them, he was gone for the third time.

And that’s how he earned the named Mr. Bewildering because quite frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever understand him or his actions. We were good for each other. He and I both knew that, but I guess that just wasn’t good enough for him. Or maybe he just wanted things done on his time. Who knows.. The reason why isn’t really important anymore.

So Mr. Bewildering, if you ever come across this, I honestly wish you the best. My feelings for you were real. I’m not quite sure about yours, though. I hope that you never put another female through what you did [or rather what I let you do] to me. And I hope you know that you lost out on something special..

As a Psychology major, I always find myself exploring the theories of the pioneers in my field. I’ve always been intrigued by Sigmund Freud’s work on the unconscious mind, defense mechanisms, and of course, sexual desire being the main motivator in all human actions. So I was a bit excited to discuss those theories today in my Theories of Personality class.

Dr. M is sitting on the desk, sipping her coffee, and going over one of Freud’s cases. She poses the question, “Well, what would Freud say her problem was?” We all kind of sit there in silence for a moment and finally, one girl raises her hand as says, “Well maybe she took her father’s death so hard because he was the only man in her life. She didn’t know another love. I guess you can say she might have been attracted to him.. Wait, no.” Dr. M straightens her posture a bit and replies, “Why not? Freud always brought everything back to sexual aggression and desire. He would definitely believe that girls are attracted to their fathers.”

It was one of those moments.. One of those times when someone just says that phrase that makes it all click in your head. I’m attracted to my father. No, it’s not as twisted as I just worded it. Don’t worry. I won’t be appearing on an episode of Jerry Springer anytime soon. It was just at that moment I realized that every man I’ve been serious with in my life is just like my father.

You know how they say every girl wants a man like her daddy? I was never one of those girls. I didn’t think I was at least. I couldn’t stand my father growing up, and quite frankly, I’m still not too fond of him today. He was charming. A writer.. he used his words to pull women in. He was also a manipulator, a liar, and never had his priorities together. Everything had to be on my father’s time, his way. He was one of those types that accused people of wrongdoings because he felt guilty of committing them. I guess he was projecting all of his deplorable characteristics onto others. Who would want a man like that right? Apparently me.

Thinking back on all the guys I’ve dated, I noticed a trend. I meet A and he’s as sweet as ever. Takes me out on dates, buys me little gifts just because, acts like such a gentleman and everything is good.. Until B comes around. B’s the charmer.. the one who is just so intriguing and complicated.. almost untouchable. It makes me yearn for him. And he’s so good at what he does, I don’t even realize that I’m the one doing the chasing. I slowly begin to forget about A once B shows a solid interest in me. I mean, I know A is probably what I need, but B.. B is what I want and you never know. He might turn out to be what I need, too.

I end up falling for B.. hard. He shows at times that the feelings are mutual.. But B usually leads to disappointment in the end. B lies, cheats, and manipulates situations. Don’t get me wrong, B has some great qualities about him, which is what initially led to my attraction to him in the first place. It’s just that B doesn’t want to let those good qualities shine through. He’s stuck in his ways and who am I to try and change that. B’s a grown man and will only change when he wants.

B.. is just like my father.

I remember wiping away the tears he caused my mother. I remember all the arguments that ensued because of his actions. I remember saying that I will never be with a man like him who could do the things he did to my mother to cause her so much pain. But here I am, sitting here with the same heartache because I continuously fall for a man like my father.

I don’t mean to make him sound horrible. I really don’t. My father, like B, has his good qualities, but 60+ years later, I don’t think he’s had that moment that made him realize that he needs to change his ways. Maybe it’s this desire in me that loves my father enough to want him to change, to be the man he was always supposed to be to my mother and his children.. Maybe that’s what keeps me attracted to B. I see the good and I’m hoping somewhere down the line I cause that moment in B’s life that makes him change for the better.

But like I said, grown men will only change when they want to. I just wish I didn’t have to get hurt in the process. Maybe I need to start sticking with Plan A.

My response? Thank you.

You would think after 4 years with someone I’d be able to give a more comprehensive reply, but instead I just found myself thinking back on our relationship wondering whether I was ever really in love with him.

I was.. at one point.

But if I was truly in love, why was it so easy for me to up and leave? We weren’t arguing. We spent time together. Everything seemed so perfect for once.

The problem was my heart wasn’t in it anymore. I wasn’t unhappy, but I wasn’t all that happy either. I realized I was with him because it was the safest thing for me to do. Our relationship was dead in the middle of my comfort zone. I ran back to it and him because I didn’t know anything else.

That wasn’t fair to either one of us, so I left..

Did I fall out of love? I wouldn’t say it like that. It’s not like I woke up one day and said, “OK. I don’t love you anymore. Bye.” It’s more like.. I didn’t bother trying to keep my love for him alive. We both neglected to do anything to help our relationship grow and as you can see he and I are no longer “we”.

See, you have to put in work in order for a relationship to work. You can’t just hope that love will keep the two of you together. Relationships and love need to be tended to in order to flourish. Without that care, they will slowly, but surely, die.

And that’s what happened. A love neglected, a relationship overlooked.. It left me with an ill feeling inside. This person I was once able to pour my heart out to..

And now.. all I could say was, “Thank you.”

My life is changing just as quickly as the seasons.. and so are the people in it. And you know what.. I’m completely fine with that. I mean I was always told the older you get, the smaller your circle becomes. It’s just.. I never thought some of the people whom I felt were closest to me would be the ones completely absent from my life.

The story usually goes like this: Someone close to me gets a brand new attitude/man/woman whatever.. All of a sudden texts stopped being answered, phone calls aren’t returned.. Days go by. Then weeks, maybe even months. I get tired of reaching out to them. My best friend becomes my ex friend and I guess the years we have known each other are damn near forgotten. It’s a story that’s been retold to me many times since I was in my teens, so yes, I’ve had time to get accustomed to it. That doesn’t make it any easier of a pill to swallow.

I guess that’s how life goes, though. Well, my life at least. Granted I used to be really bitter about these situations; however, I’ve come to realize if people are no longer in my life, it’s because they don’t need to be. I can’t be preoccupied by what our relationship used to be. Rather, I remember the good, learn from the bad, and move the fuck on.

I’m a turning point in my life.  I don’t have time to dwell on those that didn’t appreciate my loyalty or friendship. This is the time I must focus on my goals and concentrate on bettering myself.. The time that I need to really be there for the people who have remained a constant in my life, those who have stuck with me through the changing of the seasons.

Last night was no different. I laid there in the dark for awhile as questions about my life, my love and my future ran rapidly through my mind: Am I really moving next week? Did I cross his mind tonight? Do I really want to be at this school?

I took those worries to bed with me as I drifted off to sleep. I guess they translated into my dreams. I don’t remember much, just a race [literally] to the tattoo shop. I was sitting in the chair discussing with my artist what I wanted done. He began to ask me about the pieces I already had and the significance of them. A bumblebee, a “G”, a lily for my grandmother.. None of which I actually have.

The last thing I remember doing was looking at my feet [at my real tattoo]. 2 Corinthians 5:7 – “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” At that moment I realized exactly what made me get that tattooed on me in the first place. Days like these when I feel stressed beyond words, like everything is crashing down on me, like I’m about to lose my mind.. I have to have faith that everything will be okay. I have to remember that He wouldn’t put me through anything I couldn’t handle.. That He will give me strength to get through all that burdens me.

Then I woke up. My phone said 5 am and I was fully awake. I sat in bed for awhile and really thought about my dream, what was important to me, what all this worrying and overanalyzing would cause me to lose. I’m so scared about the future, about my relationship, about all that’s going to happen and change in these next few months. But that dream kind of woke me up to the fact that there comes a time when I have to stop thinking about the what ifs and stop being so pessimistic

Now am I saying I’m going to stop worrying? No.. not completely at least. I will be a little more at ease about things. I guess I’m slowly realizing that I need to just have faith that everything will pan out the way it’s supposed to. And every time I need a reminder of that, all I have to do is look down at my feet.

I’m sure he was taken aback by the text, but he promptly replied: “There’s no excuse or legitimate reason. I was young, immature, angry and evil. I took you for granted. I didn’t have any self control. I thought cheating was normal. I lost out in the end.”

And when I asked him if it was because of anything I did.. whether I was being too possessive and things of that nature, he answered, “No, that’s ludicrous. I don’t blame you for anything. I take full responsibility. We had something amazing, and I ruined it because I couldn’t keep it in my pants. Point blank period.” I was a bit stunned. Longing to know why the person you were in love with, that you were devoted to, that you would have given your life for could have ever hurt you the way that he did.. and then you finally get an answer.

His honesty made me comfortable enough with him to finally show him the letter that I had written to him over a month ago when I was going through another difficult period, struggling with issues I had created. And in turn he said, “Wow. You have to be fair to [your boyfriend]. That’s easier said than done but it sounds like he’s earned it. If he is a man, he will not betray your trust… You’re at an exciting point in life and about to embark on a new journey. Don’t let the past hold you back. You’re in control.” I wasn’t expecting him to play therapist, though, his responses gave me a sense of calm and understanding. He was completely right.

That was the end of the conversation. I got the closure I needed. It was like I was finally able to add the period to the last sentence in the chapter of my life I’ve wanted to finish for years. I felt relieved.

And now here I am.. with tears streaming down my face, wanting to restart this new chapter I’ve begun and take back the mistakes I’ve made over the last few months. I know I can’t, but maybe that’s a good thing. We all have our flaws and as of late, mine have caused a lot of unnecessary drama in my life. Now that I have this closure, these answers.. I can’t continue blaming my past for my current actions. I instead need to just.. get my shit together. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. This chapter, my story.. will have a happy ending.

A lot of people comment on how honest I am when I write. How they’d love to have a personal blog of their own, but they aren’t as open as I am.. Truthfully, I didn’t even think I was that open really. I just say what comes to mind, say what’s on my heart.. I guess you can say writing is my form of catharsis.

n. ca·thar·sis (kə-thär’sĭs)

I go through a lot of bullshit in my life. I have trust issues and a problem confiding in other people (see Day 7). All my fears and stress catch up with me and I feel like I’m going to lose it..

And then I pick up a pen and paper, or open my Macbook, maybe grab my phone.. I just write. It’s my therapy really.. Each (writing) session helps me to acknowledge my problems. Writing lets me get out all that’s on my mind without interrupting me, without judging me. It lets me try and make sense of all the jumbled thoughts running through my head. It helps me tap into all those emotions I didn’t even realize I felt. Maybe that’s why I cry so often when I write. I mean tears are cleansing aren’t they?

And my blog isn’t just for me. Yes, it’s the place where you all can watch me conquer my issues and grow from the everyday bs. I would hope, however, that you all are taking away something each time you read one of my entries. I hope that maybe seeing me go through these struggles somehow helps you with yours..

I started this blog two years ago not knowing what direction to take it, not even knowing what direction my life was going in. It’s 2010 now and I finally think I figured out both.

I know I majored in Psychology for a number of different reasons. One of the most important being I wanted to figure out what was wrong with me. Sounds a little crazy right? Actually, I believe quite a number of people go into the field with the same purpose as I do.. Wanting to get to the root of all of our personal problems, trying to figure out what exactly our issues are.. and that way maybe we can fix them ourselves.

But I’ve come to realize that might not be the best or healthiest option. With all the stress and anxiety I’ve built up as of late, dealing with my problems on my own is just making things worse. I’ve never been one to burden anyone with my issues, though. And maybe that way of thinking is a problem all of its own.

I’m still going into the field of Psychology with the best intentions. I want to help people and let them know it’s okay to seek the assistance of someone else when things are becoming too overwhelming. I guess I should start taking my own advice huh?