Decorative Flower
Her Realm, Personal website and blog of Cole
Apr 29

A Sentimental Saturday Morning

I guess it’s not often that I post anything really personal, but I’m feeling sentimental, introspective and morose, so here I am.

I spent some time with friends tonight. It was fun. Different. During the process, someone said something that jogged a hazy memory of an inside joke. I muttered the words, and Ashe knew it immediately. Soon, we had laughed ourselves to tears. I needed that, I think. It was so unexpected. Wonderful. Truly.

I couldn’t recall who we had shared the joke with or when. My brain brought up a person and a time that didn’t jive. I think, perhaps, that we had thought about this a few years ago, and that’s the connection that my brain made.

But, no. It didn’t start then. In fact, this joke had started in high school if you can believe it. It was a commentary on A Streetcar Named Desire. Yep. In the lunchroom, a friend that I had long forgotten donned a faux southern accent and motioned while making a joke that could only happen once. A joke that would have us laughing yourself to tears some 15 years later. I mean, damn.

I found myself reminiscing and in a good mood as I walked home. I wanted to look up this friend. We haven’t talked for a few good years. The last time I saw him, we were in a bar, drunk. We were excited to see one another, but he was so drunk that he kept telling me how cool his friend Cole from high school was. A weird experience but talk about flattering!

I looked him up on Facebook, excited to reconnect. But my hopes were dashed when I saw that his page was a memorial page. He passed away in January. I was three months too late to tell him that I love him, miss him, wish we talked more.

I spent a good chunk of time trying to figure out how (diabetes). In the process, I saw how loved he was. People remembered his wit (yup!) and love of music.

I went back further than this year. I wanted to see what he talked about (politics, HRC, puns) and how. At one point, I saw him reply to something with “lololol,” the response I use instead of “lmfao” more often than not. I couldn’t help but see our similarities, and that made the hurt all the more real.

So, I’m feeling pretty sad right now. I wish I had made more of an effort to be his friend as an adult. I think we would have gotten along swimmingly. I would have enjoyed him and hope he would have felt the same.

But, you know, judging from our last interaction, I impacted him pretty strongly. That’s something that I appreciate immensely as I remember him.

I wonder if he ever thought of me, remembered our good times. Perhaps he didn’t even remember the inside joke. That’s okay.

I did for a minute, and it made my life better. I think I can only laugh and smile at the memories, no matter how foggy.

Because no matter how much I look at his profile and his photos or try to piece together his life from posts on social media, it can’t bring him back. It won’t make us closer.

But it does teach me a lesson about my time here and how I need to use it. So I’m going to wrap up this post and send a few messages to people who are here to see them.

Oh, by the way. I love you, dear reader.


Sep 02

Being an Extrovert is Weird

Summer is rapidly coming to an end, and although I feel like I’ve been incredibly busy, I haven’t done much to write home about. I spent a weekend in Milwaukee, but haven’t gone to any cons. There’s been a few day trips, some game nights, many long walks with friends, Pokemon Go playing and eating out. It was all fun. There was laughter all around, but nothing stands out.

Perhaps that’s because I’ve been doing so much of it. I am currently in the midst of being the most extroverted I’ve ever been. It’s awesome but so very weird.

I recognize that being able to socialize with people, both en masse and so frequently, without needing to head home and check out for several days or hours is directly related to my anxiety being at an all-time low. I can’t argue that this is a bad thing. It’s really quite wonderful.

But it’s weird that I can more easily talk to strangers and feel more comfortable in certain spaces. That I can meet up with new people with minimal anxiety and spend hours socializing without feeling the need to end it is amazing. I’ve spent a lot of days with multiple social interactions, something that would’ve been highly unlikely if not impossible a few years ago. It does have me questioning whether my introversion was something that stood on its own of or if it’s something of a side effect of my anxiety.

A few weeks ago, I assumed that I would eventually feel more anxious and introverted  and that all would come crashing down, but while I have a hectic schedule, I seem to have found some balance. I’m not so worried about the other shoe dropping.

Although, I still do enjoy and feel energized by my down time, it’s not as necessary as it once was. In fact, I need to remind myself sometimes to do other things that I enjoy that have taken a back seat to socializing. This weekend I plan to play video games, take walks, catching up on blogging and read.. all by myself. Not having any work until Monday certainly makes this easy. Of course, I’ve already seen friends and added other things to my schedule, but I never realized how many hours were in a day until I paused from filling them all up.

So, you know, if you want to do something, I’m probably down.


Jul 15

This Is a Blog About Dylan

My weirdo friend from across the state who plays Little Big Planet with me and answers all my questions about Pokemon and tells me that my butt is nice.

That is all.


May 31

A Letter You Won’t Listen To, Anyway

No one is online to talk to so I will talk to my blog.

Dear Dave,

I wasn’t expecting to see a text from you today. In fact, I puzzled about who might be texting me on my birthday when so many people use Facebook to message me. Upon seeing your name, I felt a barrage of emotions – anger, frustration, anxiety et al – and none of them was “happy.”

At first, I thought about replying to your “Happy Birthday” text. I would ask you how you wanted me to respond. But then I realized it didn’t matter because either I couldn’t provide you with what you needed, or I just didn’t care.

You had no right to message me. I know this even as I blamed myself for not double-checking you were blocked on my phone after the New Year’s message, which elicited much of the same responses in myself. I shouldn’t have to block you after requesting radio silence for months, then finally deleting you from Facebook and blocking your messages there. For a while, you were blocked on my phone, too. My signals were clear.

It’s not like I wasn’t clear when I said I had to end our friendship, either. When I made the executive decision to end our friendship, I was not only positive it was good for me. I was sure it was good for you. After years of feeling disrespected, my behavior toward you became resentful. In short, I was an asshole and I justified it. And who wants to be that way? Whether you can see it or not, being apart means you no longer have to deal with that.

It’s obvious that the absence of friendship hasn’t opened your eyes any further, however. Unwarranted contact on various occasions – all of which I’ve ignored – prove that you don’t understand why I initially needed space and that you’re currently incapable of respecting me.

I am sure some part of you hopes that you can wish me a happy birthday and I will want to talk. But my immediate response was somewhere between trying not to vomit and crying. Because every time I’ve asked for space, you’ve ignored it, as if your need for validation and reassurance trumps my need for human decency!

At first, I thought a break was all I needed. And had you left me the fuck alone, perhaps it would have. Now, I know that a break is not enough. Every time you’ve proved that you can’t or won’t listen. If space were ever a reality, it’s one you’ve certainly altered by continuing to affect me so.

I don’t know if you see this. I do know that you would surely argue your point. That’s part of the problem. That’s almost all of the problem. That’s a problem I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to eliminate for almost a year now. And you know what?

I am done. With you. Because the positivity I need in my life — and have achieved over the last few months — is unobtainable when you’re around. I only hope you can find some for yourself, without me.


Sep 27

Versus

I am pretty conscientious about how other people feel. I try to be thoughtful and anticipate issues. I spend a lot of time listening to people about their feeling and advising them, and I’ve got a pretty good grasp on how people react to what type of situations.

It’s safe to say, I think, that people aren’t often upset or angry with me because of this. And when they are, it’s often because of how they filter and react to the world around them and less about what I have done. But because I have tried to do everything as “right” as possible, I wind up feeling so confused and hurt when people are angry.

I try to chase them down and change those feelings, and this rarely makes things better. But in my mind, I would — and often do — cut someone slack when they have good intentions. I am sympathetic to others’ feelings, even if it means understanding both sides of the issues when one person wants me to be on “Their” side.

The last 24 hours have been frustrating for me, as someone expressed anger in my direction although not entirely at me. I felt as though it was my fault and worried that more people were angry. Truly, the situation was no one’s fault and just a bit of a misunderstanding. At best, it resulted in a “bummer” for people involved who weren’t me. It boggles my mind that someone could become so angry over it.

At the same time, I know why feelings were running so high, and I also knew it had nothing to do with me. But it was hard to see outside my role and not try to fix it.

I think I need to realize that I can’t “fix’ another person’s feelings — and that I shouldn’t have to. Those feelings are on them, and I don’t need to let them drag me down, too, especially when I can see how irrational those feelings are.

But it’s hard. IT brings me back to my ex, who would hold every negative thing I did or “made” him feel — no matter how unintended — against me. This screwup might be the time he stops dealing with pathetic, unworthy Cole. This might be the time that everything falls to pieces, and it’s all my fault.

He was incredibly manipulative in that way, and while I can see in hindsight that’s neither a person I should love, a relationship that’s healthy or happy to be in or a situation that I am creating, those feelings still creep up on me.

After my divorce, I’ve tried and continue to try so hard to be above criticism, to be so good that no one could again blame me for anything.. even if that’s unrealistic. Because I don’t want to be the person my ex painted me as, whether or not he even believed it. Because I did.

And while I know I am not the same I person if I ever was that person, I guess. It’s also important to remember the people I’m dealing with now aren’t my ex.

This is perhaps a good place to leave off, with thoughtful reflection and while watching an episode of Girls Meets World about conflict in the background.


Skip to toolbar