Note to Self (201) This Post is for You

You, the liar, the backstabber, the individual who I thought loved me for me. You haven’t digested the fact that we’re done. You don’t want to see me work on my problems and improve my life because you know you’re a loser. So let me tell you this: being sober makes me want to show you how little you mean to me. You are insignificant. You are such a narrow-minded self centered being, you don’t deserve any pity. So please, hate me. Think the worst of me. I enjoy the fact you keep coming to this blog to read my posts and then, because your brain is so small and unable to process any complex reasoning, you make up stories about how I talk about people behind their back. Yeah, I’m a writer. Everyone’s a freaking source of inspiration here. I will talk about people in my life, may you like it or not. Anything else you say, think or do doesn’t matter now because this post will the last one I’m gonna write about you.

Take a good look at yourself. Enjoy what you’re seeing. In the end, I only wanna laugh at you because you have become so pathetic. At least, you’re not fooling me anymore.

Note to Self (193) It Feels Way Too Damn Good Not To Talk About It

Friendship. It comes and goes. Sometimes you fuck up something good, because you’re just a moron, and then when you realize what you lost, you either live in denial or you take action. Apologize. Make amends. Find a way back to where you were before you behaved like an asshole. Well, when things actually work out in your favor, you get it back. And it feels way too damn good not to talk about it.

Thanks for being my friend. You know who you are. I really was an asshole. You forgave me anyway. Gosh. I am so grateful. This post is dedicated to our everlasting friendship!

More power to us. I feel invincible.

Note to Self (182) Introspection (more of it)

So here I am again. Dwelling on what I did right and what I did wrong.

Easy enough though. I never was a bad person. I’m a very nice chick actually. Always willing to help, always ready to be there and to give my trust. I don’t doubt anyone for their intentions, until I get stabbed in the back.

I had that problem in the past, already when I was a little girl. People would take advantage of me. They would abuse my kindness. I let them use me until I couldn’t take it anymore, and then I reacted with anger. They said I was a mean person. They said I was crazy.

But I’m not crazy. I react under extremely stressful situations. My anger is the outlet I use to let people know I have been hurt. I should react sooner, so I wouldn’t be so angry. My problem is that I absorb all the crap, let it cook for a while, and then explode.

I’m not perfect. No one is. I can’t tolerate hypocrites. I’m not good at playing games. When I got something to say, I say it.

The girlfriend who came to discuss the argument we had made the first step to fix a relationship that broke for a reason. She hurt me. I got angry, and I slipped by punching her in the face. Months and months and crap had accumulated, little things she did and said that pissed me off, but I remained silent because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Well look where it got me. I lost control and I became the bitch.

Same with my marriage. I got hurt, reacted with anger, and then got called crazy by my ex. No one can call me crazy. Especially not the people who break my trust over and over again.

I cried for nights and days, wondering if I really was the terrible person these people said I was. But then I prayed. I asked God to send me a sign. Let me know I was still on the right path.

And God showed me I wasn’t a terrible human being. I’m just too nice. Too sensitive. I get hurt and don’t want to tell anyone because I refuse to be a selfish brat, always focused on my suffering, but not caring about the rest of the world.

I won’t change who I am. I have to stay true to myself to be happy. So maybe I’ll lose more people who thought they could use me, but at least, I won’t forget what I’m made of.

Fuck the haters.

Note to Self (176) Detachment

There’s something eerie about this dread that is falling upon me, like a rain of sadness, washing my happiness away, and filling me up with guilt. Loneliness, never far out, awaits my return. No matter what I do, where I go, if I look behind me, I see the shadows of my past looming, and I think to myself: I must run farther until I can see them no more. But they always seem to travel with me, and despite all my optimism, and my determination, I just feel their weight taking me over.

Lots of things I’d like to say, but I stop myself mid-sentence because I don’t want to sound like a stupid emotional fool, given many people out there don’t really care about my feelings. So I hide behind a wall of detachment. I pretend never to be affected by anything, cold-hearted and insensitive to the pain of the world, and I walk confident, with a smile on my face, because everything is always ok. But is it really ok?

Of course not. I’d like to find a shoulder to cry on, a gentle soul to comfort me. The other side of the bed feels so empty every night, with no one to hold onto. I never should have known what love felt like, because now I miss it. Many times I tell myself, it’s better not to experience the beauty of a relationship. When all the bliss disappears, what remains hurts too much. Every day, I wonder what will become of my life. I want change. I drown myself in my words to find a meaning to my existence. These words give me a sense of control. They make me feel safe. They offer me guidance. They allow me to break free from the routine, and open the door to new worlds.

Yet, the sense of detachment I feel doesn’t last very long. I’m still drawn to people, want to build relationships, because I’m human after all. Words cannot provide me with love or trust. They only take me so far, but the rest of the journey, I have to live it day by day. With the good and the bad, I cannot protect myself against friends who will morph into enemies. I cannot prevent them from hurting me. I suffer, and then heal.

Wisdom teaches me to stay focused. Ready to turn around and move on if something doesn’t work out. We live once. Detachment offers me the support I need when my heart is sealed to any potential aggression, and only I own the key for whoever wants to come in.

Note to Self (175) Hurricane – This time it hit us hard

Hello everyone!

I hope this post finds you well. I hope all residents of NY and NJ are okay, despite the loss of power. I must say this experience was something out of a movie. Water rushing down tunnels, flooding subway platforms, building lobbies, roads, trees broken in half, cranes collapsing on top of towers, debris flying everywhere…

I live uptown New York City, by the FDR drive, and therefore by the East River. I knew the hurricane would hit us hard, but I remembered last year, and thought – I am safe if I stay home. A dear friend convinced me of the contrary, and thanks to her motherly stubbornness, made me leave NYC on Sunday so I could spend some time with her family in a safer haven in Northern Virginia.

I thanked her and her husband a lot for their generosity, but this post is dedicated to real friendship and solidarity in time of need. I could have stayed in NYC, and then I would have been either stuck in a shelter, or in my apartment waiting for the storm to pass. I would have prayed. I would have petted my cats until they got bald. But I would have been alone against a natural disaster. Since my recent falling out with my closest NY living friend and neighbor, I have been alone – and lonely – and I knew no one would have called or knocked on my door to check if I was alright.

But life sent me someone else to share the good and the bad with. A wonderful writer, a beautiful soul, someone you want to keep in your thoughts every day. Her kids make me so happy, I love them to death.

And yes, I admit I have been an awful fan – she wrote two books and I’m barely in the middle of her first one, Wilde’s Fire. But the friendship is there. And I am deeply grateful for having her in my life.

Another grateful thank you also goes to my publisher Lisa and Eugene of Curiosity Quills, who have been wonderful to me too.

Thanksgiving is around the corner, but I thought, what the heck, I’m going to say thank you now.

:)

Please check Krystal Wade’s work here. She has published two out of her three Darkness Falls books, Wilde’s Fire and Wilde’s Army.

Wilde’s Meadow will be released by Curiosity Quills on November 5. Make sure to check this blog on November 7 for a special giveaway!!

Note to Self (165) The End

Alright, for those who have been following the several episodes of my falling out with a very good friend, this post will be the last I’m going to write on the subject. First, I want to say to the commenters out there who claimed I was unable to feel apathy and nurture relationships, well, your opinion is yours and yours only. I made the effort to let time pass by, in order to heal what needed to be healed, or to end what needed to be ended.

I thought as a result of such an effort, I would actually obtain something positive. Well I was mistaken.

There are three sides to a story: my side, the other and the truth. One side doesn’t wanna see the truth. My side has lost all faith in ever healing that broken relationship. And the truth screams: walk away.

So okay. I listen to my guts and still try to make amends. I take the blame for whatever I did wrong. But then I also give my opinion and tell my former friend what I truly believe is still not working. Facts. No emotions. Just plain facts. But the other side throws in my face insults, and tell me I’m the crazy cuckoo head of the bunch. I don’t take insults well especially when I speak about true events that actually happened. I didn’t make anything up. I was there. Other people were there. I got the testimony of many strangers who had no interest in the friendship. So tell me exactly where I effed up here?

I can’t jump off a bridge for someone who treats me like shit. Someone who I thought I could trust and ends up stabbing me in the back. Someone who I believed would be by my side for life. Dr. Jekyll got replaced by Mr. Hyde and I experienced all its wrath. Not for me. I can’t accept the truth told only by one side. There’s no way I’m going to fight my gut feeling and fall down a nasty hole full of lies and hypocritical statements, just because the truth hurts too much.

So, since I’m not talking with this former friend anymore, as of today, the friendship is dead and I’m moving on.

Good luck, peace and if I ever see you again, I’ll plainly ignore you.