Skrinkering Hearts

he wrote back. to that email that i wrote last week. maybe two days later, he emailed back. he’s sorry, and we’re best friends and i’ve always been there for him. and he’ll always be there for me, as a best friend. that he realizes he hasn’t done a good job at that role lately, but he’ll always be there, as a best friend.

he made that part pretty clear. the friend thing. i got it. repeated twice, i got the point. i wasn’t looking for a long lengthy response from him. i just wanted him to hear me. i think he did. i did needed to be reminded, i was doing this for me, to finally, tell him how i felt. this was about me. i needed to stop pretending like things didn’t bother me, when they did. that things didn’t upset me, that left me bawling into my teddy bear’s paw. that i didn’t need a quick bathroom therapy session, in the middle of a party.

i think i got that point across to him. in not so many words, it was clear. i had been sending him mixed messages and i took ownership for that. he knows that i wish i’d known things sooner. he knows now that i am upset with the way it went down, but it is what it is, and i view this as my catalyst to begin moving on.

which is what i’m doing. i feel better now at least knowing that he knows how i feel. how it felt, to not hear it from him. how it feels to know that things are different. he knows that i was, that i am, upset, but that what’s done is done. he knows that i think everything happens for a reason. and that i don’t hate him. and that now i can begin moving on. it’s time to do that. it has been coming for a while.

and i guess that’s my mini update, in case you were dying to know.

Just the week before, my best friend Drew had gone up on there to hang the weekly events calendar. And Drew wasn’t scrawny. He was built; he had a swimmer’s body, in very good shape, muscular. He was on the taller side, definitely an athletic build. And no one thought twice about him getting up on the glass display case. I guess it was actually viewed more as a table, for the love of God, I don’t know why, but it was. And it was a weekly occurrence. Whoever was on desk duty the day it needed to be changed, would hop up on the glass case, and change the weekly calendar. It was never questioned. Never thought it might not be a good idea.

Until it wasn’t. A good idea. Writing this right now, is giving me the feeling. My heart is pounding faster, I’m that girl who chomps her gum neurotically that I hate, and my palms are sweating. Aaron, you owe me one, big time.

It wasn’t a big deal. I finished coloring in the smiling, sunglassed sun, scribbled in “open swim” for Friday afternoon, and proceeded to the case to hang up the events calendar. The case, was about waist high, maybe three or four feet long, and housed random swimming paraphernalia- goggles, bathing caps, water bottles, etc. I took off my flip flops, and quickly hopped up on the case. I’m on top of the glass case, kneeling. I had placed the poster sized calendar on the counter next to me, so I had to reach over for it. I shifted my weight, from both knees, to more on my left. I think I just had my left hand on top of the glass, supporting my left side at this point. And all of a sudden, it shattered. I crashed. Through the whole display case.

Glass.Everywhere.
And blood. All over.

Holy shit. You can imagine the noise this must have made. I honestly don’t remember much of this after the falling part. I remember people rushing into the outdoor-like lobby. You can see the pool from the desk in the lobby, and the display case is/was in the corner. So people heard it, and they rushed in. It didn’t even hurt. The cut was so deep, (stop reading now if you’re skeeved out about blood and things of the like- I don’t even know how I’m writing this) you could see the bone. Eww, the bone. At least that’s what I’ve been told. I don’t even remember what it looked like at the time. I just remember glass, and blood, everywhere.

I guess I thought it wasn’t as bad as it was, because I started to get up, thinking it was just a minor cut. I was wrong. The ambulance showed up, and I remember that one person could ride in the back with me. I was 17 at the time, I think, and I had a good friend who was 16, also a lifeguard there. I wanted her to come with me, but my boss ended up insisting upon it. The boss that was always the biggest bitch and the last person there that day that I wanted in the back with me. And Drew wasn’t even there. I wanted him there to hold my hand and tell me it would be okay.

I barely remember the ride there, but I remember getting to the hospital, and waiting. My mother was in a meeting and was unreachable, in Boston for the day. My father was at work, but luckily they got a hold of him. He called my mom, who was taken out of this big conference she was at, and they both came to the hospital. The rest is a little foggy. I had to get reconstructive surgery, because the cut was that bad. It was my muscle and everything- and it wasn’t just stitchable. It needed full on surgery to reconstruct… my leg. Eww. To this day, glass really freaks me out. Glass and blood.
And poor Drew. He came into work later in the day for his shift, to find the swim club closed for business. And it was him who had to clean up the the glass, the bloody mess, my blood, that was now in the spot that once was the display cases home.

Wicked sucks. Gross. I have a big scar on my knee, and a small one on my left pinky. I guess it’s a “cool” story, but not one I like to talk about too much, mainly because it just skeeves me out. But it is random, and kind of a “no way!” type of thing to bust out if the conversation is dull at a dinner party. Maybe I should have told Mr. Dinner Date that one.

Lesson learned: DO NOT kneel on glass display cases. Not safe.

Just the week before, my best friend Drew had gone up on there to hang the weekly events calendar. And Drew wasn’t scrawny. He was built; he had a swimmer’s body, in very good shape, muscular. He was on the taller side, definitely an athletic build. And no one thought twice about him getting up on the glass display case. I guess it was actually viewed more as a table, for the love of God, I don’t know why, but it was. And it was a weekly occurrence. Whoever was on desk duty the day it needed to be changed, would hop up on the glass case, and change the weekly calendar. It was never questioned. Never thought it might not be a good idea.

Until it wasn’t. A good idea. Writing this right now, is giving me the feeling. My heart is pounding faster, I’m that girl who chomps her gum neurotically that I hate, and my palms are sweating. Aaron, you owe me one, big time.

It wasn’t a big deal. I finished coloring in the smiling, sunglassed sun, scribbled in “open swim” for Friday afternoon, and proceeded to the case to hang up the events calendar. The case, was about waist high, maybe three or four feet long, and housed random swimming paraphernalia- goggles, bathing caps, water bottles, etc. I took off my flip flops, and quickly hopped up on the case. I’m on top of the glass case, kneeling. I had placed the poster sized calendar on the counter next to me, so I had to reach over for it. I shifted my weight, from both knees, to more on my left. I think I just had my left hand on top of the glass, supporting my left side at this point. And all of a sudden, it shattered. I crashed. Through the whole display case.

Glass.Everywhere.
And blood. All over.

Holy shit. You can imagine the noise this must have made. I honestly don’t remember much of this after the falling part. I remember people rushing into the outdoor-like lobby. You can see the pool from the desk in the lobby, and the display case is/was in the corner. So people heard it, and they rushed in. It didn’t even hurt. The cut was so deep, (stop reading now if you’re skeeved out about blood and things of the like- I don’t even know how I’m writing this) you could see the bone. Eww, the bone. At least that’s what I’ve been told. I don’t even remember what it looked like at the time. I just remember glass, and blood, everywhere.

I guess I thought it wasn’t as bad as it was, because I started to get up, thinking it was just a minor cut. I was wrong. The ambulance showed up, and I remember that one person could ride in the back with me. I was 17 at the time, I think, and I had a good friend who was 16, also a lifeguard there. I wanted her to come with me, but my boss ended up insisting upon it. The boss that was always the biggest bitch and the last person there that day that I wanted in the back with me. And Drew wasn’t even there. I wanted him there to hold my hand and tell me it would be okay.

I barely remember the ride there, but I remember getting to the hospital, and waiting. My mother was in a meeting and was unreachable, in Boston for the day. My father was at work, but luckily they got a hold of him. He called my mom, who was taken out of this big conference she was at, and they both came to the hospital. The rest is a little foggy. I had to get reconstructive surgery, because the cut was that bad. It was my muscle and everything- and it wasn’t just stitchable. It needed full on surgery to reconstruct… my leg. Eww. To this day, glass really freaks me out. Glass and blood.
And poor Drew. He came into work later in the day for his shift, to find the swim club closed for business. And it was him who had to clean up the the glass, the bloody mess, my blood, that was now in the spot that once was the display cases home.

Wicked sucks. Gross. I have a big scar on my knee, and a small one on my left pinky. I guess it’s a “cool” story, but not one I like to talk about too much, mainly because it just skeeves me out. But it is random, and kind of a “no way!” type of thing to bust out if the conversation is dull at a dinner party. Maybe I should have told Mr. Dinner Date that one.

Lesson learned: DO NOT kneel on glass display cases. Not safe.

Tonight I’m going on a date. I haven’t been on a real, date, date since… well, since maybe May? and it’s not even a real, date, date. It’s dinner. And it’s with two other couples. And it’s kind of a blind dinner, of sorts. I met up with an old friend a couple weeks ago for coffee, and just happen to mention that maybe I’m ready to start dating. and to keep any single men in mind. two days later, she called me about Mr. Dinner Date. He is her boyfriend’s college roommate. so after a few emails were exchanged back and forth between said friend and I, I found out that Mr. Dinner Date:
1- Is very, very nice
2- He knows how to “treat a girl”
3- He went to an engineering school, he IS an engineer, which means, he’s likely intelligent
4- He’s very quiet
5- He’s “not drop dead gorgeous”
6- He likes to cook

Because I haven’t been on a date, date, in way too long, I figure I need to be open minded. I have, absolutely not a thing to lose here. The only thing that has be a spec leery is #4. I just haven’t dated a real quiet guy before. Although, she says I’m the type that will be able to open him up. Really? We exchanged pictures. And he’s not bad looking. He looks…. well, nice. And plain. And somewhat attractive, and if he’s funny (which I hope to God he is, that’s a big, big turn on), then I know I’ll be that much more attracted to him.

So, it’s dinner for 6 of us, at um 6pm, at her house. I’m meeting him there; I’m bringing the wine. And I may just have a glass or two to get ready for this before I go.

Afterall, it’s been a while.

Tonight I’m going on a date. I haven’t been on a real, date, date since… well, since maybe May? and it’s not even a real, date, date. It’s dinner. And it’s with two other couples. And it’s kind of a blind dinner, of sorts. I met up with an old friend a couple weeks ago for coffee, and just happen to mention that maybe I’m ready to start dating. and to keep any single men in mind. two days later, she called me about Mr. Dinner Date. He is her boyfriend’s college roommate. so after a few emails were exchanged back and forth between said friend and I, I found out that Mr. Dinner Date:
1- Is very, very nice
2- He knows how to “treat a girl”
3- He went to an engineering school, he IS an engineer, which means, he’s likely intelligent
4- He’s very quiet
5- He’s “not drop dead gorgeous”
6- He likes to cook

Because I haven’t been on a date, date, in way too long, I figure I need to be open minded. I have, absolutely not a thing to lose here. The only thing that has be a spec leery is #4. I just haven’t dated a real quiet guy before. Although, she says I’m the type that will be able to open him up. Really? We exchanged pictures. And he’s not bad looking. He looks…. well, nice. And plain. And somewhat attractive, and if he’s funny (which I hope to God he is, that’s a big, big turn on), then I know I’ll be that much more attracted to him.

So, it’s dinner for 6 of us, at um 6pm, at her house. I’m meeting him there; I’m bringing the wine. And I may just have a glass or two to get ready for this before I go.

Afterall, it’s been a while.

I was tagged by Joy for this one.

Post five things about yourself that you have never posted about before.

1. I have a graduate degree in Counseling. A specific type. And I got it by doing a five year program in school, where I took graduate courses my senior year of college, and had one additional year, and viola!- I had my degree with only one additional year of school. Not a bad deal, eh?

2. I once fell through a glass display case when I was working as a lifeguard in 1998. I have a big scar on my knee as a result. I hate this story, totally gives me the creeps.

3. I LOVE elderly people. I have a Certificate in Gerontolgy. I think old people are amazing- even cranky ones. I just love them.

4. I’m a little OCD about checking certain things. ie: my hair straightener to make sure it’s off, that I have the right lip gloss in my purse, directions, over and over to make sure I’ve got them right.

5. I once spent a week in a convent. I know, shocking and really, pretty unbelievable. I was on a week long volunteer/mission type program in college. Two people needed to stay in the convent as our living quarters were slim pickings. My friend and I volunteered and it was one of the most memorable experiences ever. I had a blast.

Brooke and Copasetic Fish you’re it!

I was tagged by Joy for this one.

Post five things about yourself that you have never posted about before.

1. I have a graduate degree in Counseling. A specific type. And I got it by doing a five year program in school, where I took graduate courses my senior year of college, and had one additional year, and viola!- I had my degree with only one additional year of school. Not a bad deal, eh?

2. I once fell through a glass display case when I was working as a lifeguard in 1998. I have a big scar on my knee as a result. I hate this story, totally gives me the creeps.

3. I LOVE elderly people. I have a Certificate in Gerontolgy. I think old people are amazing- even cranky ones. I just love them.

4. I’m a little OCD about checking certain things. ie: my hair straightener to make sure it’s off, that I have the right lip gloss in my purse, directions, over and over to make sure I’ve got them right.

5. I once spent a week in a convent. I know, shocking and really, pretty unbelievable. I was on a week long volunteer/mission type program in college. Two people needed to stay in the convent as our living quarters were slim pickings. My friend and I volunteered and it was one of the most memorable experiences ever. I had a blast.

Brooke and Copasetic Fish you’re it!

That little situation, that I felt “ready” to write about? Well it hasn’t really gotten better, or resolved one way or the other. The whole ball that dropped was that I found out that he and his girlfriend are now living together. The catch is, I still, have not, heard this news from him. I’ve heard it from everyone but him. His sister, his grandparents, his best friends, his mom. I’m not kidding. It’s everyone, but it’s not him. And that’s what gets me the most. That given the relationship/non-relationship we had, it would make sense to me, well, that he tell me. And okay, he’s “busy” and he “just got a new car” and he’s “helping her move in” and he “hasn’t thought about telling me”… but come on? You cannot tell me that he can’t be assuming that I haven’t heard, by now. It’s been, almost three weeks since I heard the news, not from him. Oh, I already mentioned that.

So I figured, my options were simple. Either, keep on keeping on, like this. Being frustrated, kind of angry, hurt, and upset, and say nothing about it to him, while I wait. OR, I could say something. It’s that simple. I knew it would have to be over email, because I couldn’t do the phone call thing right now, too much. I’m one who tends to believe that there is no use in complaining about something that you are unhappy with, if you aren’t making any steps to change the circumstances. So, I think I have had my allowed sad time. Then it was the frustrated period and the kind of ticked off stage. And now, it’s the had it stage. So I had to do something. I couldn’t complain about something I wasn’t going to do anything about, any longer.

And so I emailed him. After lots of thought, back and forths of should I? and is it worth it? I decided I have to, and yes. I couldn’t just continue to wait and wait, and say nothing about this, anymore. My intention was to try and be direct and to the point. Not overly friendly, but not bitchy either. Blunt and clear. Finally letting him know that this news is hurtful, yet none the less, if it’s what brings him happiness, then for that I am happy.

I guess now it’s more of the waiting game. When he’ll read it and what he’ll say. At least I finally got it out there though. Sucks it didn’t come from him to begin with and I needed to drag it out of him. But really, enough is enough.

Is enough.

That little situation, that I felt “ready” to write about? Well it hasn’t really gotten better, or resolved one way or the other. The whole ball that dropped was that I found out that he and his girlfriend are now living together. The catch is, I still, have not, heard this news from him. I’ve heard it from everyone but him. His sister, his grandparents, his best friends, his mom. I’m not kidding. It’s everyone, but it’s not him. And that’s what gets me the most. That given the relationship/non-relationship we had, it would make sense to me, well, that he tell me. And okay, he’s “busy” and he “just got a new car” and he’s “helping her move in” and he “hasn’t thought about telling me”… but come on? You cannot tell me that he can’t be assuming that I haven’t heard, by now. It’s been, almost three weeks since I heard the news, not from him. Oh, I already mentioned that.

So I figured, my options were simple. Either, keep on keeping on, like this. Being frustrated, kind of angry, hurt, and upset, and say nothing about it to him, while I wait. OR, I could say something. It’s that simple. I knew it would have to be over email, because I couldn’t do the phone call thing right now, too much. I’m one who tends to believe that there is no use in complaining about something that you are unhappy with, if you aren’t making any steps to change the circumstances. So, I think I have had my allowed sad time. Then it was the frustrated period and the kind of ticked off stage. And now, it’s the had it stage. So I had to do something. I couldn’t complain about something I wasn’t going to do anything about, any longer.

And so I emailed him. After lots of thought, back and forths of should I? and is it worth it? I decided I have to, and yes. I couldn’t just continue to wait and wait, and say nothing about this, anymore. My intention was to try and be direct and to the point. Not overly friendly, but not bitchy either. Blunt and clear. Finally letting him know that this news is hurtful, yet none the less, if it’s what brings him happiness, then for that I am happy.

I guess now it’s more of the waiting game. When he’ll read it and what he’ll say. At least I finally got it out there though. Sucks it didn’t come from him to begin with and I needed to drag it out of him. But really, enough is enough.

Is enough.