Say What?!

I have to write this down before i go to sleep. Before I go to dream world only to wake up and convince myself that tonight did not happen.

Tonight I had a closing shift with Sean. I haven't seen him in awhile because my hours are wonky. Wonky hours mean less time flirting in the aisle with him and making inappropriate jokes.

So needless to say, it was nice seeing him and being around him and generally having him around.

We were heading out of the break room just as he was making a joke that he was aware that I 'wanted' him. He said this because he is doing some dumb intense workout routine that has beefed him up a bit. The few times we've worked together he makes sure that I get a peak at his flat stomach. Yep, I said it. He lift up his shirt, baring a very flat, toned stomach and ask me if I can see the difference in his body.

(Yessir. I do).  

He asked me again tonight. To check out his newly toned body so that I could do my dumb girl thing and compliment him. I said i didn't want another sneak peak of his body (liar), so he stopped abruptly in front of me I bumped into him and pretended to be offended (at first)

"Aren't you a little bit interesting in looking"

(Of course. I am a girl w/desires and needs).

"No! And why do you care what i think of your body" I laugh patting him on the back and moving around him to go back to work.

"Because I know that you think of me"

(Please. I don't want to have this conversation now).

"No I don't"

"Oh, come on, yes you do".

"You have a girlfriend which means you are pretty much off limits, whether i think about you or not isn't going to make a difference at the end of the day"

He looked  hurt by this for some reason. The nature of our conversation suddenly went from funny to semi-serious. He turned to me with his very stoic face like as if he is trying to pull the truth from me with his eyes. And I felt guilty for lying to him but too guarded by my feelings to admit that I like him. More than I should.

"You're right. I do have a girlfriend. But are you saying, outside of that, that you really don't think about 'us' at all"

"I mean-i do-maybe, like--it's....."

"....cause i do. think about us.

".....really?"

"A Lot actually. And I do, you know, consider us. If things were different I would want an 'us'. I just wanted you to know that"

Uh, asaywhat?!?! excuse me?!?!?! Did you just say this?

I stared at him with a stupid look on my face. And then I giggled uncomfortably. And then mumbled something incoherently that resembled 'yeah, me too'

I don't understand boys. I don't understand why he'd tell me he thinks of being with me in 'that way' or 'this way' or 'some way' knowing that nothing can or will come of it while he is with his girlfriend. Maybe he is trying to test me. Maybe he is throwing ideas out there to see which one I'll latch onto. I'm not sure. I'm just not.

And I'm not use to attention from boys. Sexual, emotional or otherwise so i misinterpret everything. But he looked all cute and 'do you think of me' adorable and I wanted to say "Yes! Yes! I do think of you. in the way you have just admitted you think of me! Now break up with your girlfriend, let's make this happen and carve me another vampire stake baby!!!'.

But things with him are complicated. Things with me are equally complicated. And my needs vs. my wants are completely confused by this boy.

Why must he be so cute. and unavailable. and so tempting. Why must i be so needy and wanting of his affection.

A Change of Seasons.

I'm uber anxious tonight. You ever get that sense that everyone/thing around you is going through some universal change. That there is a newness in the air. That things are going to be different, not really better or worse, but just New. This feeling excites and scares the crap out of me. These last few months I have been so comfortable in my everyday that I've been ignoring the changes around me. I've fallen into a routine that doesn't necessarily make me happy but that makes me feel safe.

But safe is boooooring. While I am content with it these days because of all that has happened these last few months. I am not happy about stagnation. At all. Of course these thoughts/fears/worries are running rampant now as mutltiple changes are occurring to people around me. "James Franco" look-a-like is going to New Zealand for 8 months this summer. 8 whole months! What the what?! Another friend of mine just announced he got a desk job at some crap company that makes lens. People are coupling up, breaking up and forming new and stronger bonds (me included). The weather is warming up. Everyone is packing away the old to embrace for the new. Things are suddenly in bloom.

And lately I feel stuck at the starting line.

I am not a girl who settles. I want to try new things and see where this potential can get me. And now that Spring is at my fingertips I crave change more than ever. I mean sure, I like my life these days. I like my friends and my crush( a lot) and the change in my personality. I am less hard on myself. Okay with making mistakes. Content with being a fearless explorer of simple pleasures. But i absolutely loathe everything else about my days. I hate all this free time (the store cut hours again). I hate my job. I hate never having money. I hate the lack of creativity. And direction.

I want to balance the loves of my life with the needs of my life. But this is an easier said than done.

I need newness in my life. Something to restore the drag that often cast its shadow overhead. I need to start making goals again. I don't' want to be left on the wayside as things begin to bloom and change shape.

And I'm not talking my usual dumb abstract goals either. I need to have concrete aspirations that I can accomplish within a decent amount of time. Goals that reflect my current needs: monetary stability, dedicated free time to finish short story anthology, a change of venue (I'd like my own little studio at least before my 27th birthday) and an available cute boy to date.

I simply need a new routine that is so outside of my current one.

For once if things are going to change around me, I'd like to be apart of it. I'd like to be apart of the transition into a new more exciting way of existing.

I am capable of this.

Life After Death

Today marks 3 months since Marie committed suicide and I'm not really sure how I'm dealing with her death/my grief these days.

I do know that missing her has not gotten easier. Sure I don't cry as much. Sure that empty feeling in my stomach is no longer there. Sure I am not throwing things at people and being an impossible wall to talk too. But I miss and think about my best friend every day. I carry her life and death on my shoulder like a badge and Scarlett letter. I am conflicted by my love and rage towards her.

Today I was cleaning up my room when I found a Christmas card Marie sent me two years ago.
It's this silly holiday card with a hand drawn picture of a muscle-y dude holding various handy tools. The guy of my dreams for the holiday she writes. A present from her to me.

I forgot i even had this card in my possession. Since her death I have been in search of physical items of hers to keep nearby. My memories feel faulty. My life with her even more complicated when I do allow myself to go to the time when she was alive. Because of this i find comfort in the physical things she left behind rather than the emotional. The concrete rather than the abstract.

Like the GRE and cookbook she mailed me my first year in New York. Or the stuffed animal she bought me in the 12th grade. His name is George ( i name every stuffed animal George. seriously) and he sleeps in the reading nook i created in my room. I have this ugly scarf she bought me when my hair was uber crazy that i wear every day at home. These physical properties, that she touched and possessed, are my reminders that she existed outside of the memories that plague me.

Cause while my life continues to go on and i form new/meaningful relationships and bonds with people they can't begin to understand the weight of my grief and loss. That the person I felt the closest too in the whole wide world took her life a few months ago.

So naturally when I found this card, I sort of fell to pieces. I gasped and then ran my fingers across her handwriting and brought it close to nose to see it still carried the scent or essence of her. And it doesn't. It's just another thing (along with myself) that she left behind. Another thing that i will add to the rest of the objects I'm collecting and hanging on to that will conjure memories of our time together.

It's hard dealing with her death because i feel so guilty about moving on. I feel guilty about the experiences i am having and the life i am creating and the daily knowledge that for me to deal with her loss it is necessary for me to take charge of my life and happiness. I feel like I am relearning how to live all over again.

The other week I went to a hotel party with a friend (Chris) from work who happens to be Sean's cousin. I've known him longer than Sean and generally like being around him because he's a creative and introverted and sincere platonic guy who i get along with. And the complete opposite of my current crush, which is a good thing.

The party we went to was thrown by a mutual friend whose birthday was that weekend. Because neither of us wanted to go separately we decided to go together. To make it less awkward and so that we would have an out when we both got tired of drunk people and loud music. And while I was a little hesitant about going to this party, I wanted to do something different on a Saturday night. I knew that Chris and I would have a good time regardless ('we can make paper cranes if you feel uncomfortable).

We stayed much longer than anticipated though. We never got to make paper cranes. I was tipsy and and lightheaded because i forgot to eat earlier that day. Some more people from work showed up and we sort of sat around and talk for a long time. As more people started to join the party (many I did not know), it seemed harder to find an excuse to leave. I was concerned because Chris looked like he had no intention of heading home. He sort of fell into the 'jovial talkative' guy early on and I didn't want to leave without the person I came with, even if he decided to change the 'we bail early' plans.

Around midnight though, I was wearing thin. And he immediately took notice. There were several complaints about the noise level in the room, so we took this as our opportunity to bail. Of course by this time, I was above and beyond tipsy. The alcohol had gone straight to my head and I would have failed any 'walk in a straight line' tests. Everyone kept asking how I was going to get home and to be honest I had no clue. I didn't think this part of the night through. But Chris, being the gentleman that he is, offered to walk me all the way home.

I declined his offer at first. I live about 30 minutes from the hotel and I was worried about how he would get home because he would miss his bus or train by walking me all the way to my house. But he said he didn't mind. He told Sean he would take care of me and that is what he intended to do. So he extended his arm out for me to grab and we started the stumbling, drunk walk to my house.

On the walk home we talked about everything: Sylvia Plath, how to sober up in the morning, the lack of hours at work, what it is that we are suppose to have figured out in our 20's. It was sort of nice. The moon was out, there was a nice wind blowing and he let me rest my head on his shoulder as he practically dragged me home. As we started the walk up the big ass hill that leads to my house he started to talk about writing. Current and old projects. He wanted to know how my writing was coming along. And i said (something along the lines of):

My best friend killed herself 10 weeks ago. She was my everything. And everything I use to know about writing and myself and life feels uneven. I don't know who I am as a writer anymore because she was such a big part of my life as one. So the writing is not coming. I can't think anymore. I have no words anymore. For anything.

I felt him tense up against me. He was quiet for a moment and I feared that I'd gone too far by bringing her up. By admitting my current issues with writing. But baring such a private thing to him. But he continued dragging me up the hill, matching my sloppy steps and said (something along the lines of)

I heard. About your friend. And, um, I wanted to say that I was sorry. When you came to me and Sean that day, we didn't know, that she would...you know, we weren't trying to be, dismissive, we just didn't know...I'm sorry.

You ever hear something that you didn't know you needed to hear but when you do a huge weight is lifted from your shoulder. I must admit that is what I felt when he said this too me. He validated my loss and grief and sadness while validating her existence and impact in my life. I wanted to cry when he apologized because i felt so alone and unsupported that week when i thought she'd gone missing and there I was because comforted and held together by another friend who is stepping into help me deal with this loss.

We safely made it to my house, where i finally let go of his arm and thank him for walking me home. He wished me a goodnight not before saying that in the morning I'd probably feel like shit and that:

whatever you feel you've lost (writing wise) since her death will resurface. It'll be different maybe but it hasn't gone away. Start from where you are now. You'll find your way back to writing again.


And I feel like that goes for everything in my life these days. Everything, absolutely, everything I thought about life, love, friendship, death and myself has all changed since Marie died. Since her death I feel like I've been dropped off in some strange, new, world where i have no other choice but to adjust too the new things around me. Some days it is easy. Some days it is hard. But eventually i hope that on the other side of this grieving process I find myself back to a version of me that's renewed, a tad different, essenstially the same, forever shaped by the time i had with her.

I just got to start healing from this point. The point where the cracks have yet healed.

I miss her everyday. I miss us everyday. And that fact that it's been three months since she died is unbelievable. But i'm getting better. I feel stronger. Sometimes fragile. But better. I know this much at least.

Beckett the Vampire Slayer.

So I may not have gotten a Buffy tattoo but guess who got a vampire slaying kit for her birthday.

This chick. I'm in awe.

Le Boy did not make this for me.Though i guess the original vampire stake ( my first and most important one) he made was the inspiration for this kit that a good friend of mine put together.

It's an all out slayer kit, with everything a slayer would need to well, slay things. A cross necklace, a few stakes, 'holy' water and garlic!


I knew in advance that I was getting a vampire kit for my birthday. But the final product turned out better than i expected. He even threw in two books about vampires so i can read up on them, just in case, i should run into one.

I love that my friends indulge me in my Buffy obsession.

I love that I have friends.

Today was good. I hope my days continue to get better.

My Birthday in a Nutshell

What an extraordinary, tiring, emotional draining though euphoric birthday week i had. I don't think I've ever felt this loved and appreciated by people before. I am a little worn out and exhausted after everything but of course I managed to take some pictures in between the celebrating.

My mom bought me a Kindle! Sure, I've been a little weary about getting an e-reader because I am fiercely in love with actual books but did you know you can borrow books from the library on an e-reader? I didn't. It's the coolest thing ever, especially because going to the library has been a little awkward this days (it's a long story).

I also got my first tattoo. Kat took me on Thursday and I am now the owner of a paper crane on my wrist. I still intend on getting a Buffy tattoo but the (paper) crane symbolizes endurance (among other things) and that is something I've learned that I possess these last few weeks. So i decided to get that as my first tattoo instead. It's a really awesome tattoo. A small and feminine paper crane captured in flight. I'm in love.

I was a little upset with Sean this week because he failed to wish me a happy birthday. No text, no dumb facebook comment. Nada. When I got to work on Saturday, I was a little peeved about this. It's not like he didn't know it was my birthday. He's asked me repeatedly what I wanted. I brought it up to him several times so that he'd have no excuse. And yet March 1st came and went without anything from Le Boy.

Sometime during my shift on Saturday he pulled me aside to wish me a happy birthday (finally) and he also apologized for not reaching out on the actual day. It's pretty hard being mad with him when he's around so I said it was okay, that i wasn't that upset at him anyway. He wanted to see me tattoo and after teasing him about what I got I showed him my crane and he was completely smitten with it. He held my wrist in his hand for a solid minute or so, turning it back and forth in his hands.

Sean: how much did it cost?

Me: 50 bucks. But I was expecting to spend more

Sean: Did someone help you pay for it?

Me: No. Why would someone do that?

Sean: Because then it could be their birthday gift to you, some people do that.

Me: I didn't think of that. I should have huh, would have saved me fifty bucks.

Sean: It could be my present to to you. Let me give you the money back that you spent on that tattoo. You said 50, right? Then the crane could be my gift to you. If you want.

I was dumbfounded. He offered/wanted to pay for my tattoo! It was sweet and caught me off guard and I was tempted to say 'sure, that would be the most awesome gift you could give to me'. But I have an issue with taking money from friends/crushes/potential boyfriend material. And I like looking down at my wrist and knowing that this was a gift to myself for my birthday. I like the ownership and bond i have with my new ink.

So i had to decline his sweet offer but instead said that he could take me food shopping one day with the money he would have given me for the tattoo. He said that was a fair enough trade. Me. Sean. In a supermarket. Cart and all. I look forward to it.

My friends and family were complete gems this year. From Monday to Last Night, everyone went out of their way to make sure my birthday felt spectacular. And it did. I had cupcakes and meatball sandwiches, torchwood marathons and Buffy gifts. I didn't feel alone and unwanted or devalued once. I was surrounded by people who love and care for me as much as I do them.

It was a perfect week outside of the obvious missing link to my happiness, but I enjoyed every minute of my 26th birthday I have so much to say and so many pictures to upload but i am uber exhausted and drained and hungover (another long ass story) to do so tonight.

Luckily I have the next three days off, so I'll be able to re-tell every amazing detail from this week.

~Beckett