My Head Don't Work Right...

I cleaned my entire house today. SCRUBBED it down in every room. Threw shit away. I took a shower, shaved my legs (a grooming habit that I tend to abandon in the cold months), made a pot roast for dinner...and then my ungratefull crotch fruit wonderfully appreciative children came home from school, dropped their sub zero armageddon gear and slush filled boots in the middle of my living room and proceeded to bicker for the next 3 hours. That is when I put them to bed because I really could NOT take it anymore. Oh, did I forget to mention it took them 45 minutes to not even clean their plates and they bitched the entire time about a meal I;ve made a MILLION AND SEVENTY FIVE times before that they have loved??? How could I forget that part?

So now I am in bed watching one of my Top Five Favorite Movies EVER,  High Fidelity, and I am contemplating one of the first Top Five John's character poses to the viewer, "Top Five Breakups". And he names them all and then YELLS, "DO YOU SEE YOUR NAME ON THAT LIST, LAURA?!?!?!?!".  It begged me to wonder about my own breakups.

Now, TSMA will tell you I have been around, but, in all honesty, I haven't. I married a man I met when I was 16, started dating at 17 and was with him and faithful until I was almost 28. So, in all honesty...I am limited in the "relationship" aspect of life.

I remember the demise of my first high school boyfriend and I. It was painful, I suppose, but I was 17 and now I just really don't ever even think it made ANY difference in my life, in the aggregate. I still talk to him occasionally (thank you Facebook) and we've had a couple drinks together in our adult lives. He has a kid, I have 3...I love our friendship and would be more heartbroken if that ended than I was over our high school bullshit.

After that, I had my marriage. While it was horribly painful in the time I spent deciding to end it, it was more painful being a part of that...so called...marriage...than when I finally left.

Then there was my first boyfriend following my divorce. Sadly, I never loved that man. I was never...cruel...I was just univolved. It was a rebound relationship. He is a good person with wonderful qualities; caring, giving, loving...it pains me that he really fell for me and I wasn't as into him as he was into me. He was a good man.

So that brings us current. Now we're at TSMA and, as it stands right now? I would be a mother fucking train wreck if that man left me. I suppose this happens, as you gain experience and learn and grorw, but I would have thought, at thirty years old and with a 10year plus marriage, 3 kids...I would have thought I knew what it was like to love a man. I get the love of your children. It is uncompareable and insurmountable. That isn't the love I am talking about. I am talking about loving another person as a human being. And having an intimate relationship with someone. I honestly woul.d have thought I had learned, or felt, at it's absolute depth, that fire. I never realized until TSMA, that I never had.

My soul is on fire with him. My heart was on fire in my marriage. This is so much better. I hate even thinking about it because it gives me chills. Not the stupid butterfly chills teenage idiots have in their endless supply of libido, but chills because my core refusses to recognize and acknowledge the warm-touchy-feelies I have for this human being. I use to think it scared him more than me. I really did. But that has totally changed. I am more pettrified than I think he could ever be about anything.

I suppose that reflects directly upon my ultimate dammage from my marriage. But the thought of believing a man could actually love, want, need, appreciate, support, belive in...those are things I never saw coming.

 But I mother fucking digress, bitches.