The Complicated Life.

Christmas was okay. Where I expected it to be lonely and sad it wasn't. Where I expected to be fun and exciting it wasn't. But there was a fine balance between expectations and reality that didn't make Christmas a total bust.



My aunt celebrates Christmas very differently then I do. I don't need a shitload of present, I don't need a perfectly trimmed tree. I just need the excitement of the day. That 'oh so' magic of Christmas miracles, Santa Claus and spending invaluable time with your family. At my house, my mom and I buy each other presents and then spend the rest of the day watching corny Christmas movies and eating dinner. It was a little different here, despite having a three year old in the house there wasn't that same excitement that I was use to.



Michelle seemed confused about the day, Christopher was grouchy and in a funk, and my aunt had to work. I was excited to wake Michelle up and tell her that Santa came and dropped off some presents....but she was unimpressed. She opened some presents, seemed a little excited and then preceded to cry when I opened the big present my mom sent me (can we say ROCK BAND!!!!!).



"Where's my big present"

"I don't know. But my mom sent me this"



She made a face, grabbed her blanket and stomped into another room. Merry Christmas to you too. The night before my older cousin remarked that I "was really into this holiday stuff" this was soon followed by "we don't really do crap like this". My heart kind of sank but I promised my mom that I would not sulk on Christmas. And as a present to her...I didn't. I spent the majority of the day in 'my' room playing rock band, talking to my mom, texting people, eating and reading. It was a different sort of Christmas but I did the best that I could in the situation.



The next day I had to work from 8-4. I don't know how I dragged myself out of bed, but I made it and dreaded running into 'Porter' all day . As I mentioned I totally cancelled on him on Christmas Eve. The reason for the cancellation was both personal and physical. I didn't really want to go, and I really couldn't leave my cousin on his birthday. In one my first adult acts I actually called him up and cancelled instead of letting my phone ring until he got the point.



It was around 11am when I called him. He answered the phone after a couple of rings and I actually wasn't sure it was him. at first He sounded different on the phone, I liked the tone of his voice (kind of deep and polite as if I had just woken up)and I kept repeating his name to make sure it was him. I explained the situation and he said it was okay. He sounded disappointed but I promised that we would see a movie another time...when no ones birthday intercepted.



Of course, the next day at work 'Porter' showed up a little early. Just to hang around I guess. While I was at customer service he came up to me and handed me this rock. Or what I at the time thought was a rock. It was the size of a golf ball and a cool shade of purple.



"it's an amethyst" he said, as I twirled it in my hand, "do you like it?"

I did like it. In some weird way. The color was not vibrant but when I twirled it in my hand the different shade of purples sort of sparkled. The shape of the amethyst made it smooth and I kept tossing it between my hands as if it were on of those meditative stress balls. Before I could hand it back to him he walked away. I shrugged my shoulders and turned to Sam (a hot seasonal worker) and showed him the amethyst. He too said it was pretty cool and then handed it back to me.



When 'Porter' came around again I made an attempt to give it back to him but he told me it was mine, that he wanted me to have it.



SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.



Maybe all platonic friends give each other gifts for no reason. Right? If only I were that naive. I don't understand why he likes me. All of our conversation are surface level, I am nice to everyone, and I have horrible eye contact. Horrible. I am afraid that he likes me simply because I look cute and gullible. That there is an innocence about me that oozes inexperience and precociousness. I hear that I am cute often by weird older men who like to touch my shoulder. It's nothing new. And that's why when someone pulls out the "you are very cute" card I automatically believe that they will never take me seriously. That they like me because they want to be my knight in shinning armor. When in all honesty I don't particularly want that.

I mean eventually...yeah, in that supportive- I can rely on him, he is really patient with me-sort of way but not in that macho sense. I want someone who knows I can fight my battles but will help me conquer some on the way. Yeah. That's what i want.

Needless to say, I think he is like with the idea of me rather than the reality of me (that sounds familiar). I am simple but so much more complicated than my wide eyes give off. We are suppose to see a movie after work on Wednesday and I don't think I can take any proclamations of love from him. I realize that what i want from a guy is unrelenting patience. So when I come up with a crazy idea (like moving to Maine based on a GQ spread) he'll let me ramble on about it until something else comes my way. I need him to be the anchor not the ship.

You know, having anxiety was a lot easier. I didn't have to worry friends, boys and life. I got to crawl into myself and remain safe from all the expectations of people. Though i have no interest in him in a 'i want to kiss your mouth' sort of way, i still don't want to disappoint him. Let me straighten out this statement. This does not mean I would put myself in a situation where he (or anyone) could take advantage of me because I was filled with too much guilt in saying no. That is NOT the case. But for some reason I know that the person he has imagined me to be isn't the person I am, and it is going to be crappy when he figures that out. I will feel guilty regardless.

I want to see if I can get someone else to go with us. Then it wouldn't fee like a date and I wouldn't have to keep a watch out for my nape. What a lovely nape it is turning out to be.

I have to get out of this town, before it completely takes over.