Sleepy Time

The wind forces the windows to shudder in their frames. My old apartment creaks and settles. Another swell makes the trees bristle and whine.

It is a cold and blistery first-winter-night in Chicago. I am in my little kitchen nook, sipping Sleepy Time tea in a mug that says "Noel" and has a fat happy snowman on it. I am waiting for my brussel sprouts to steam up nicely so I can dip them in mustard and relish in the flavor explosions that my mouth enjoys so much. The steamer is from a friend who just called and I "rejected" by pressing a button on my cell phone. Not now, later.

Then steamer is perfect and I love it. It is from China Town, I think she got it for under 10 dollars. It is made of bamboo or wicker or something of that caliber, and it steams things to a crisp-soft combination that is hard to get out of a simple pan. I am forever appreciative of her generosity.

I am in front of my computer, as usual, debating whether to watch a rerun on a network website or lose myself for a few hours in a mindless myspace labrynth. Jury is still out so instead I write these words and wait for my tea to cool down.

My wrists are sore from giving pleasure to classmates' backs last night. My soul is calm because of some deep unconscious body work we played with in class today. And I am thankful for the quiet now, after a long hurried day of brain intake. Moments like this are good for me. I need to remember to stop and take them all in and writing helps. I forget that sometimes.

I will drift off to sleep tonight trying to process everything I learned and will probably accomplish that while asleep and wake up remembering nothing. But hopefully it will have sunk deep into my subconscious and will stay there, poised and ready for me to pull out of my holster-brain when I most need it.

There is such beauty in that.

FLASHBACK

Every once in a while you get hit with a little something that takes you back a few steps in the progression of your life, and forces you to reflect on things a bit.

Myspace is really good at doing that for people, so I have been told. But really, besides the occasional random person that finds me, and me getting excited to stalk them for a bit via their page and see how much better or suckier their lives are (or appear to be) than mine, I haven't had too many "whoa" moments.

So this one threw me off quite a bit.

I used to date a guy in high school. He was 23 and I was 17. Ew, right? But strangely, at the time, I swear it seemed OK. Even my hardcore Catholic mother dealt with it plesantly. It was weird.

Anyway it was this great love I had to let go right at its height because I went away to college, and really, who keeps a long distance relationship (that lasts) when they start college? Eventually it was bound to unravel.

Well, I am not so good at the letting go of things I enjoy, so I guess it all sorta drug itself out a bit too long and a bit too dramatically and what not. Lots of crying, late night talking, hurt feelings, holding on, being mean, etc. On both our parts.

For some reason this person affected me very deeply. I thought we were soul mates or something and I worried that I would lose him forever, yadda yadda. It was hard on my 17-18 year old brain and heart. I think I got about as psycho as I have ever gotten for a guy. Truly. When I look back, I laugh at how ridiculous I was. Driving down the street I THINK he might live onso I can find his house and leave notes on his car? Get a life, sister!

Many valuable lessons were (I hope) learned from this experience. But it did take me about 5 years to get over this individual, due to this ability he has to contact me out of the blue and tell me he is thinking of me and blah blah blah. I was usually in a bad place mentally or something when he, like clockwork, would call and blather on about "thoughts of me" and such. This happened about once every couple of years from 17 to about 23 or so.

Finally, I think he got married and ran off to some other part of the country and had babies. I didn't hear from him for quite a while, and my "getting over it" gene finally kicked in.

So now comes myspace.

And I guess it was inevitable.

He messaged me today. So weird. Luckily, I am not in a bad place mentally this time. Quite the opposite. I was just discussing my very awesome future with the boy, and feel so lucky and in love even after 2 years and hopeful for the future and excited to grow even more with him by my side.

And you know what?

I was shocked, and emotions and memories hit me, and then I settled into the feeling, embraced it, and am writing about it now, which always helps.

And I don't have that old feeling I used to get when he contacted me way back when. I have a healthy curiosity and amusement about it. But no secret feelings of "what if?"

I am so happy where I am at in life and who I get to spend it with, that there is no draw towards this person who used to have such a hold on my heart.

I am glad he contacted me now, because it gave me a chance to realize how far I have come from where I used to be.

I am doing just fine.