Would You Know Me Without the Mask?

There's nothing quite so soul-emptying as trying to convey something to someone else and having them suddenly realize the version of you they have always thought was you is, in fact, only a hidden door which you just opened up and now suddenly they find themselves faced with part of you that makes them wonder if, perhaps, you're actually a little crazy.

Ha.

Yes.  I am crazy.  At least a little.  I tend to get fixated on an idea or concept that fascinates me and need to talk to someone about it.  I just need someone I trust to bring up weird stuff with and have them actually respond somehow.

Do you have any idea how hard that is to do?  Do you have any idea how many texts, emails, letters, notes I will never send?  Do you have any idea how hard it is to be locked up inside yourself because you are pretty sure that if people really knew who you were or what interested you or lit you up or confused you that they would think you're joking or crazy or maybe they'd decide they didn't want to know you?

You probably do.  Because, if we're being honest, we're all pretty good at hiding who we are or what we think or feel depending on what we want people to think of us.  It's tiring isn't it?

I just want to sleep.


Favorite things of this very moment (8:48 PM CST):

• "So At Last" by Butch Walker
• A Natural History of Love by Diane Ackerman (I also kinda hate this book)
• Knowing tomorrow will actually start the hiring process for Pinecrest and that I should, barring incident, have a real job soon
• My fan
• Unsweetened ice tea in an old QT cup (nice to have bits from all my homes and travels in one place)
• The feeling of success from making eggplant Parmesan for the first time ever this evening 

I Need Sleep. I Need Sleep. I Need Sleep.

I need sleep.  I find myself repeating that phrase.  I need sleep.

And it's true - I do need sleep, but at the same time, I don't want to.  I keep thinking of this week as the last week during which I can get away with going to bed late and sleeping in.  This isn't a bad thing because it will mean that I have successfully gotten the job at Pinecrest, but it does mean rearranging my sleep schedule which seems like a strange joke since my body and brain have rarely agreed on when I should been sleeping in years.  I'm one of those great people that suffers from insomnia and depression intermittently, and this makes sleep a hilarious challenge at times.  My big hope is that work will make me so tired that I will just crash.  If it doesn't work that way, I'll end up burning out quick.  It will work.  It will be fine.  I'll learn to sleep.  Or at least fake it enough that I'll be alright.

Fake it till you feel it, right?

My meeting to go over the offer for the job is Wednesday morning.  Lots of people know about this.  I probably sound goofy to a lot of them because I keep putting the "if" in front of getting hired.  I keep saying things about how "as long as" this and this and this work out...I'll have a job.  People keep saying things like "You clearly have been hired" or "As soon as I heard I knew you'd have the job" or simply congratulating me.  While this is all great and I am pretty sure I will have the job, I am struggling to feel like it is mine yet.  This isn't even a huge fancy job.  It's just a needed job, and I'm happy to do it.  I just really don't want to be completely excited about it, and then to have something fall through.  That could be overly pessimistic, but if you'd lived my life for the past couple years you'd feel this way too.

It makes me feel a little insane to be afraid of being excited.  I don't want to be in this position in my life where I don't trust life to work out even if everything points to things going smoothly, but I am.  In the past 8 years or so rejection, failure, disappointment, and unexpected things always seem to show up.  This isn't to say everything has been bad.  Sometimes the rejection has cleared a path for something better or the failure has caused change or the disappointment has helped me learn lessons, but all of these things hurt at some point.  

I guess right now I'm just incredibly wounded and incredibly vulnerable.  I'm just not willing to believe fully that this good thing, this job, will really be mine until it is completely settled.

So here I am waiting.

Siiiiiigh.

Good things come to those who wait though, right?

Favorite things of this very moment (12:44 AM CST):

• Making a new mix for a good friend
• Butch Walker singing me to sleep and telling me to "think about the good things no matter what they say"
• New yoga/sweat pants while crazy soft lining
• Having removed a certain small black & white kitten who shall remain nameless (hint: starts with "M" and ends with "ulligan") from its spot under the bed where said mini monster was apparently trying to use the bed as a scratching post
• Cookbooks with eggplant recipes I'll finally have an excuse to try since we've been given eggplant
• The box sitting next to my bed with all kinds of wonderful gifts from Nik (I swear these boxes are always like Christmas)

Because My Life Is Not A Movie

"Best Thing That You Never Had" has been playing in my head a lot lately, but I am asking myself if that is really true.  Am I really the best thing?

I have my doubts.

This past weekend I was at Refuge in IN.  It was a wonderful weekend because I got to see a lot of people who I find myself desperately missing on a near constant basis anymore.  My beloved sisters/friends/roommates Amber & Kim, my dear brother/friend Jake, my amazing cousin Hilary, my hilarious uncle Jon, and my good friend Jordan, to name just a few.  These people make me feel home.

Over the weekend, Amber and I's good friend, Jeff asked her how she knew Jake was "the One."  Her answer was perfect.  She told Jeff that no matter where they are, to her, Jake feels like home.

That's what I want.

So this is the thing, maybe he doesn't know it yet, and maybe he never will know, but this is what he's missing: ME.

He will be missing out on me getting up early to make monkey bread or pancakes so that he would have a hot breakfast before he leaves the house.  He is missing me singing all day every day anything at all that makes my heart happy or speaks to my soul.  He will be missing the mix cds that tell him just how incredible he is to me when I can no longer find the words.  He will miss my hands and everything they are capable of.  He will miss my laughter and my constant encouragement as he pursues his dreams.  He will be missing my creative pies and how fun I am to work with in the kitchen.  He will be missing my smile and my constant willingness to do laundry and help with dishes.  He will miss how good I am with his dog when no one else is.  He will miss my sweet sewing skills and my creative ability to recycle everything and find the beauty in everything and everyone.  He will miss my notes and letters.  He will miss my lips on his neck and the number of times I say I love you.  He will miss my passion and my adoration and how completely gorgeous and perfect I think he is and have always (since that Han Solo costume the night we met) and always will.

I hope he misses me.

I feel a million things and nothing all at the same time.  My life is not a movie or this would be well on its way to being resolved.  Instead, he's going to go marry a girl that even his family seems nervous about, and I am going to listen to Jason Mraz sing "I Won't Give Up" a million times and try to find a new dream.