Everything Will Be Okay

It’s funny that the further my mental state spirals down, the more people notice how healthy I have become.  How well-adjusted.  How strong I must be to overcome such terrible adversity all with a smile on my face.  Lies stacked upon lies until it must surely tumble down like a poorly formed jenga tower.

A year ago I was planning a wedding.  Nothing fancy, a simple backyard affair with homemade pom-pom balls hanging from porch and tents.  A year ago I kissed my husband of four years and sealed the vows that were originally made three thousand miles from home in front of complete strangers.  Hours later I set my new husband on a plane heading for a giant sandbox full of cloth wrapped enemies.  We were high school sweethearts, deeply in love and so very full of hope.  And naivety, as it turns out.  No one tells you that the fairy tale you carefully spin in your head will crash down in the face of reality. 

October of 2011 was a dark time for me.  In one month I lost my husband, best friend, health and perfect, wonderful job.  With the help of friends and family I carefully glued the pieces of my life back together.  Not perfectly of course, there are now jagged edges, holes and cracks where things like trust and hope used to reside.  Still, it was a step in the right direction.

 

Then my penguin came along.  I worked with him for three years seeing him as nothing more than a friendly coworker.  The day after my husband told me he needed a break, I called Penguin and asked if he would go for a hike with me -- he is an outdoor junkie like me.  When we reached the trailhead, clouds moved in to cover the sun.  Half a mile in, the wind started howling.  Two miles in, rain began to fall in a torrential dance.  Halfway up the mountain, it started snowing, heavy flakes melting on hot skin.  He never asked to turn around, soaking wet and freezing though we were.  I told him my husband was leaving me.  He told me I was strong. 

To this day I don’t know why I called him.

We took a class together that spring.  He bought the textbook and I bought a parking pass.  We met at a coffee shop near campus and drove in together from there.  On Valentine’s Day, a suitor sent me two dozen red roses -- pretentious, but sweet I thought.  Another suitor bought me a GIANT stuffed bear – so nice, but not in line with my personality at all.  I am practical to a fault.  At lunch Penguin brought me a 16oz Americano with a splash of soy milk – my favorite.  As the hot, hint-of-chocolate liquid coated my tongue, I had an epiphany.  That weekend I told the two men I was dating that I could no longer see them.  That thick paper cup made me realize I didn’t have to be interested in someone just because they were interested in me.  I was flattered beyond belief when two men came out of the woodwork to court me, but I had no strong feelings for either of them.  My epiphany: it’s better to be alone then to lie, lie, lie. 

Penguin and I continued our friendship.  I was working under the impression that he had no romantic interest in me.  Over the previous months I had given him a number of openings, more out of curiosity than anything else, but none were taken.  It wasn’t until the end of February, while sitting in my car after class, neither of us wanting to go home to an empty bed, did he ask if he could kiss me.  My heart thudded, fought the constraints of my ribcage, and I said yes. 

That first mashing of mouth and tongue was awkward.  He made fun of my nibbling habit; I poked at his slender frame.  The next day we fucked on the floor of an empty office.  I can’t go in there now without smiling.

Even though I was careful, so careful, Penguin wiggled his way into my life.  Inside I was screaming that it was too soon, that this wasn’t real, that he didn’t care.  Love makes you do and say stupid things.  It makes you weak.  Yet another way in which I fail.

For now, I will smile when people tell me how great I’m looking.  How lovely my house and yard look this year.  How wonderful everything is, while on the inside I will laugh and laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Kind of a whiney post, actually.  Sorry about that.