Saturday, February 19, 2011

When a house becomes a home

Dear subconscious,
Please stop dreaming about certain someones of the long tailed, pointy nosed and undersized waistcoat variety.  I’m trying to be over all this and you are not making mornings any easier.  Also please stop sending both pleasant and unpleasant experiences to remind me of times I spent with said someone.  It’s not cute, it’s annoying.

Just kidding, this Samuel Whiskers doesn’t actually look like that.  I’m really picky about guys and the undersized waistcoat would definitely be a deal breaker.  But on the dreams I’m totally serious.  At least send me dreams of actual rats with cute white spots, or even scuttling along the subway.  Believe me, things would be better that way.  Weekend mornings are a low point for me and I think this adjustment would make a huge difference.

This should be a glorious day.  Yeah it’s overcast, yes I have a ton of work to catch up on, but how many holiday weekends come a year?  Not enough.  So why should a Saturday morning when I have a whole three days stretched out ahead of me feel so awful?  I miss all the things that could have filled it.

Which gets me to thinking.  One of the hardest parts of this isn’t losing Samuel Whiskers himself.  I wasn’t in love, we weren’t best friends, so shouldn’t this be easier than with the other guys? Surprisingly not.

I think I’ve finally localized the lesion.  I miss the routine.  I miss being in a relationship.  I miss having someone to go to sleep with almost every night and someone to eat my from-scratch pancakes in the morning.  I guess what I’m saying is I’m lonely and having a default someone there to care and be relatively omnipresent was really comforting.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not the kind of girl who will jump into a relationship with just any guy to have that security blanket.  If I was I wouldn’t be single right now; there are always options.  But I do think that missing having that person was one of the reasons I let thinks burn so fast and hot with Samuel Whiskers.  In the course of a week we went from casual hookup to me sleeping over 5-6 days a week.  It was whirlwind, it was intense and I have to admit I loved every second of it.

I was dying to fall into that pattern and when the opportunity arose with someone I was attracted to and connected with (this is actually a pretty rare occasion) I took it and ran.  I basically didn’t live at my apartment for the 6 weeks leading up to Christmas break and honestly, not sleeping here never bothered me.

Well I’m ready to change that.  Hello surprisingly spacious, university owned apartment.  I’m ready to make you my home so when the next guy comes knocking I wont feel like I have to co-opt his.

Yes I know I can’t fix the empty place in my heart with stacks of House Beautiful magazine or all the domestic crafts projects in the world, but I think I do need to buy into the life I have now.  There may not be someone to eat my whole wheat banana walnut pancakes in the morning, but I think I’m learning to be ok with that. 

Because there is someone and she’s me.  And she’s actually pretty fun to hang out with.  And let’s be brutally honest now.  Those whole wheat banana walnut pancakes with only egg whites weren’t that good.  I’d way rather have white flour blueberry-banana ones with real butter instead of that synthetic crap you keep in your fridge Samuel Whiskers.  And I want eggs that have shells and look like they might actually be related to a chicken, not some strange cloudy fluid coming out of a carton and looking like it would make you into a comic book super-villain if you fell into an industrial sized vat of it.

I’m ready to reclaim my life and learn to love just being with me even if that’s a slow process that has to happen one pancake at a time.  Ok, maybe two, I was pretty hungry.

1 comment:

  1. i'm learning how to localize the lesion!! and real butter always wins, paula deen style for life :)