I Have a Crush

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I first caught a glimpse of him online last night. The description was brief, but the pictures drew me in instantly.

I was hooked.

I dreamed of him last night, imaging the future we could have together. Picturing our lives intertwined. When I awoke this morning, he was still on my mind, even though I was trying to suppress the thoughts. Giving in, I finally decided we needed to meet in person. Immediately.

I made the short drive to his residence. I gasped when I pulled into the driveway. He was even better looking in person that he was in pictures. I was smitten.

photo-259
My crush in “person” 🙂 He obviously needs a haircut!

That’s right. I have a crush on a house.

Like any crush, my mind is awash in romantic notions. Spinning possibilities out of mere suggestions. I am obsessed, overtaken with passions of paint colors and potential plantings.

Like any crush, my dreams will likely be dashed since there is scant anchor in reality.

Brock and have been rational in our quest for a home. We have registered with hatch My House so that our wedding gifts can build our down payment. We plan to move this fall after the wedding and when our lease has expired. With the assistance of a friend in the real estate business, we started casually perusing homes in the area we live and love. We frequently email postings back and forth and engage in dialog about the potential perks and liabilities of each property. We’ve known that these homes are only hypotheticals; they will be long gone by the time we are prepared to buy. And that’s been okay.

And then we saw this one.

On digital paper, it’s perfect. A foreclosure, priced to sell. Ugly on the inside, but just needing some TLC to make it beautiful. It has the spaces we need and the amenities we want. It’s difficult not to fall and fall hard.

I visited today, exploring the yard and peering in the windows. I could so easily see us in that space. I was already arranging furniture and repainting walls. I could almost hear the clacks of the sticks from the spot where Brock would teach his private martial arts lessons. I stood in the spot where I would put a hammock and gazed out at the yard that I so desperately want. I felt the ache of my nomadic existence the past four years fade as I let the home’s energy wash over me.

Damn.

I know better than to do this. I know I’m getting excited just to have my heart broken. I know it’s just a house and should not be an emotional investment. I know that it makes sense to wait until we have more money to put down and our lease is officially over.

But damn. I’m crushing hard.

Tomorrow, we make the formal introductions. Our realtor friend is meeting us there to show us the inside. A part of me hopes that the home has some fatal flaw on the inside. Something that will crush the crush.

But another part of me wants it to remain perfect.

Brock and I have talked strategy. Figured out a possible juggling act that would allow us to purchase earlier than we anticipated. It’s not ideal and it’s a little scary but it just might work. Of course, we may not be the only ones flirting with our intended. There may be competition better looking and more prepared for an immediate relationship.

But still.

It’s hard not to get excited about the thought that our crush might just maybe, possibly like us back.

 

A Letter to My Ex

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Dear —–,

Fourteen years ago, I was preparing to marry you. I was so excited but, even more, I was so sure. Sure that we were so good together. Sure that we would continue to weather any storm. Sure that we would be together forever.

My belief in our marriage lasted until the day you left. I remember my shock, my disbelief so clearly. I couldn’t understand how you, my beloved husband, could do those things. Even now, four years later, I still don’t understand the choices you made. I suppose I never will.

In an instant, you went from the man I adored to a stranger I feared. In many ways, you have been dead to me since you left. I remember you as you were since I can’t comprehend what you’ve become. It’s almost as though you are two completely separate men to me — the one I was married to and the one who betrayed me. I just can’t understand how you could be both my protector and my persecutor.

Read the rest on The Huffington Post.

Deja Vu Yet New

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Planning a second wedding is quite strange. It’s like walking a familiar road after being absent from a city for decades – you think you know the sites and the layout but nothing is as it was.

I don’t want to think about the first time, endlessly reflecting on how it was done before. But I do, if only to make sure I do it differently now. The basic structure of the wedding is the same: private ceremony followed by celebratory dinner with loved ones. But the details are intentionally altered. My first wedding was on a beach; this one is in the mountains. The first date was in the winter and this one is in the fall. My first dress had straps and my hair was up. Now? Strapless and hair down and loose. A Thai restaurant is replacing the Italian that served the first dinner.

There is an unplanned difference between the celebrations that struck me yesterday as I was working on the guest email list (That’s right, wedding Evites. Don’t tell Ms. Manners). There is a good chance that my dad will be the only guest present at both. As far as my family, we’re small and spread throughout the country. My mom will actually be in Italy at that time (don’t feel guilty mom -go and enjoy yourself!) and I don’t think any other family will travel. I got married the first time only 6 months after moving to Atlanta. So, the friends at our celebration were coworkers that we had at the time since we had not yet developed any meaningful relationships in the new city and our friends from Texas could not make the trip.

This time around, the friend list is long and rich with history and meaning. I have friends that have known me through my entire marriage, supported me through the divorce and have seen me blossom again. I have others that have only known me after. Brock has friends that never thought they would see him marry until they saw us together and said they knew. Even the restaurant has personal ties, as they know us well, saw the evolution of our relationship and have hosted many a gathering for Brock’s martial arts students. We will be surrounded by our community as we celebrate. That feels good.

Having friends around means I also have a shower this time through. Something I’ve never had. The hostess texted me yesterday and asked me to pick a theme: kitchen, wine, bathroom, lingerie or camping. I had to smile at the last one. She is very much a city gal so I knew she threw that in for me even though it pained her:) I chose lingerie since it’s something I never buy for myself and I left all my collection behind in my old life. Plus, sometimes it’s nice not to be practical:)

It’s crazy that, even as I’m about to move on from the past in the biggest way possible, the past still follows behind, tapping me on the shoulder occasionally just to remind me it’s there.  But even though it’s sometimes strange, I’m okay with my awareness of the past. I’m not trying to run away from it or bury it where it can’t be seen. I’m hopeful that now that the planning is done (yippee!), the past will take a polite step back and maybe not follow so closely.

 

Related: Why I’m scared of 22 year old dress consultants – Say Stress to the Dress

 

Pandora’s Envelope

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It looked like nothing special really.  A plain brown 13″ x 9″ envelope.  It sat tucked in a file drawer for two years, its brown frame slightly larger than the file folder which contained it.  Over time, the edges grew a little worn, but the clasp stayed sealed tight.  I didn’t think of it often, but when I would open the drawer, it sat there taunting me.  Haunting me.

It looked like nothing special really.  But it was.  That plain envelope contained a few sample images of my former life, pictures and memories I had not faced in years. I had imbued the images within with power, talismans of a former life. I didn’t know what the consequences would be for breaking that seal.  I feared the pictures would act like horcruxes, their sum total assembling into some great evil.

Last year, I was finally ready to find out what would happen when I broke the seal.

I made the preparations.  Secluded outdoor table at a coffee shop? Check.  Dark sunglasses to hide the tears? Check.  Journal and pen ready?  Check.  Bravery?  Check, I guess. I began to pull the pictures and letters out one at a time, recording my memories and reactions.

My ex’s first car was a ’56 Chevy.  It was a noble, yet fickle beast.  He had to carry entire flats of oil in the trunk so that he could top it off every 100 miles or so.  In this picture, we were redoing the upholstery while parked in my mom’s driveway.  The older man next door always came out when the Chevy was in the driveway and he would share memories of his 20s, when he owned the same car.

This picture was the only one that actually brought tears to my eyes.  This was Max, our Wonderpug.  We got her shortly after we moved in together and she quickly became an integral part of our family.  She was so full of spunk and spirit. We would take her camping, hiking, and swimming, earning her the title, “All Terrain Pug.”

When I found myself suddenly alone and adrift, I was completely unable to care for any my dogs physically, emotionally, or financially.  Friends and family helped to find homes for all three of them.  Giving them away was the most painful part of the entire divorce, but I had to do what was best for them.  Max was the hardest to place, as she was elderly and in failing health.  One of the amazing volunteers at Southeast Pug Rescue personally took her in and gave her a wonderful home in which to spend her remaining years.  Here come the tears again…

A family portrait with an adult Max.

We had an unorthodox wedding.  We were married on the beach in Vero Beach, FL.  The only attendees were the minister (a gay Methodist minister who looked like David Lee Roth and threatened to marry us while wearing a speedo) and the photographer, who actually worked for the newspaper.  We both cried when reciting our vows, trembling with emotion.  As soon as the ceremony was over, we removed our shoes and walked along the beach for miles.

We honeymooned on a Windjammer cruise.  Apparently I though short-alls were the height of Caribbean fashion.

It was strange seeing him in these photos.  His face no longer seemed familiar to me.  What stood out was one picture where you could see a mole on his neck.  That image, not his face, brought memories rushing back: the feel of his hands, the texture of his chin, the smell of his hair.  I examined all his images, looking for emotion.  Looking to see if his love was real.  Comparing the pictures of him then to his more recent mugshot.  It’s not the same man.

Strangely, the wedding pictures did not bring sadness.  Just a disconnected sort of reminiscence.

Not long after we were married, we bought our house.  This began 10 years of remodeling projects as we worked to make it our own.  We always worked so well together.

This was the last picture I pulled from the envelope: my cat looking out my old dining room window at the activity in the garden.  That cat is all that I still have with me from all these pictures.

The past only has power if we allow it to. By keeping those pictures hidden for so long, I built them up in my mind and made them into more than they really are. Now they they have been released from the envelope, I find  that they have also been released from my thoughts.

I only have a few pictures with me.  Most of them, along with other memories, are in a sealed  box in my mother’s attic across the country.  I’m no longer afraid to open this Pandora’s box; I know I can handle what comes out of it.

Huff Post Live

Posted on by stilllearning2b

See me on Huff Post Live tonight at 5:30 EST talking about how to plan a successful marriage!

http://live.huffingtonpost.com/r/segment/marriage-planning-/5106a479fe344406930000c3