"I AM A LADY".

Today I woke up wearing nothing but thigh high stockings and a smile. The perfect start to a day if  you were to ask me. As soon as I finally convinced myself to get out of the warmth of my bed, I made my way over to the bathroom. I looked and the mirror saw my hair a mess, the faint traces of make-up from the night before and the bands of the stocking pinching just lightly slightly above my knee. And I have to be honest, I felt like a sex kitten.
        That little moment made me realize for some reason that I haven't seen a real pretty woman in a long time. Don't get me wrong I am not saying waking up looking like a call girl is the end all on being a lady, but the idea of waking up in stocking and still having perfume on from the night before is sexy to me. It's being a lady. I look around me and it is more then apparent that some women give two shits about what they look like. Have you ever been to the DMV and seen women in there looking like death warmed over? I have. And the only thing I would like to tell women like that is stop this madness. i look at some women who have gone out the night before and for some reason sticking a bun on top of your head and not washing your make up off is a suitable way of showing up to work. I think not, I wouldn't go to the mail box looking like that, let alone my place of work. The more time I spend on social networking sites the more time I spend reading what assholes men are and seeing pictures of girl on toilets (not an exaggeration).
       If you want to be treated like a lady, then I suggest you act like one. For instance lets try not being wheeled out of the casinos, puking in every bar bathroom we go into, and if we have breasts bigger then DD lets try not wearing a strapless dress. All lite suggestions. If you want your boyfriend to make you feel beautiful, why don't you get your ass out of his sweatpants, put something sexy on, stop bitching about your weight and give him a massage. It's pretty simple. And if you want a life partner in general keep it together ladies. Everyone of us has something to offer from beauty to intelligence to creativity. But it is hard to see that, when you think that yoga pants and Ugg boots qualify as a entire seasons outfit choices.
     Talking to a friend of mine that I admire as the true lady she is, says she can spot a real lady by her toes. If everything else in her appearance is pristine, but when you look down through her peep toe wedges and see the clipped and gnarled truth within in them, she deems you a poser. Of a lady that it. Now some of the women who read this are going to be disgruntled, annoyed and even a little hurt. And I have only one thing to say to them, try harder. 

Home for the Holidays.

               It was a different feeling this year for the holidays. They felt pleasant and warm. Everyone seemed light-hearted despite the lack of money from the previous years recession. The all to familiar feelings of obligation and guilt was seemingly lifted. There was something different this year, she was happy.
               Emma wasn't exactly a Scrooge. For the longest time she had wanted to love Christmas. The soft warm white lights and deep red poinsettia's with the glitter on top of the leaves. The smiling faces on the little figures of Santa and his elves. Even the nativity scenes that righteous people put up in their yards, seemed less abrasive and beautiful in there own right. It was what Christmas had brought her all these years, that made it much less then a sparkle. The family coming into town, gift giving and "quality-time." It felt like the awkward charade it always felt like. A week before Christmas Emma would tense up and feel more alone then ever. Then the big day. Eating, drinking and forcing small simplicity out of her mouth and racking her brain for any sincere conversation pieces that might be available to her. Then finding solitude in the family she spoke to on a regular bases. Then being shamed for having such a strong relationship with these people. The food would come to save the day, and then the conversations could be turned to chewing and all was well for a short period of time. Until the strange friends of her grandparents came up to make even more meaning less and awkward conversation. It was at this point the self hatred began for somehow creating the social-butterfly reputation for herself.She spied her father from across the room sitting in his chair of solitude and wished once again to be small enough to sit on his lap and crawl into a ball. Be protected by his nature that was pleasant, but direct.
              This year was different. Emma had her own. He was strong enough she felt to handle the strange side show that the holidays had been for her all these years. And he made her feel safe. His family's Christmas seemed to run much smother then the one's she had come to know. They were so loving and inviting without the feeling of being stuck in an episode of the Brady Bunch. Emma and Tom had made the decision to split the Christmas Day between the two families. She had not had the pleasure yet of having someone over for this once a year extravaganza, however she decided to role the dice. The day with his family went well, everything feeling so rushed. It's hard to find a sincere moment, when you can't stop looking at the clock. Then they made the trek up to Emma's parents house.
       There they all were waiting. There they were all together, eating, drinking and laughing. It was nice. Tom had created this buffer that had taken the edge off conversations that would normally end Emma's letter to Santa asking for a gun with one round. She was smiling really and everything she said wasn't exuded with sarcasm. It didn't really fell like the holidays at all. On the car ride home that night, who knows it could have been the three whiskey sodas, the perfectly placed Christmas lights or even possibly real feelings. Emma lend over and looked at Tom and said, "I love you" for the first time.
Tom paused for a moment, then quickly reassured her that she had maybe a couple more then she thought and continued to drive. It took her a moment to realize what had happened. Then the all to familiar feelings of forced sentiment, guilt and most of all shame ran though her entire body. Maybe she had had to much to drink, because all of a sudden she thought she might be sick. There was a loose belt shrieking in Tom's truck, but Emma couldn't tell if it was coming for the truck or inside her own head. They made it down the hill and too their driveway.
She was right back to were she started, she was home for the holidays.

Communication Is Key.

What sounds crazier... Telling someone rationally in a calm voice the things that are bothering you. Keeping clear, calm and collected thoughts and points, making it perfectly clear what you upset about. All the while seeing it in whomsoever eyes that have no fucking clue why you would be upset about such things. Or ...should you wait, let the anger out in one large spout of a emotional blowhole, where things you start talking about have been already long forgotten and the anger comes out of every orifice of your body that could have held it. Leaving you to clean up the emotional wreckage of what you can't fully explain at this point because you waited to long. You couldn't come up the courage at the time to say anything about what was bothering you at the time. And now it's that day, they didn't make the bed when you asked them to. It's a bed, but is it? Or are messy, discombobulated bed sheets the metaphor that has become your relationship? Comfortable and familiar, however disorderly and never put together.

I am going on assumption here when I say that the large majority of you might have said that the calm collected version of communication is were things are sure to succeed. However have you ever looked at someone and in a very serious and collected manner said " I hate the way you do _____." or how about, " Babe I don't think we have enough sex." and " Angel I want to throw you x-box out of the window."
No, when these subjects are brought up you are angry, hurt and at the point of a total meltdown. But I bet you have said " I fucking hate you and everything you do." and " Why don't go watch more porn, you asshole." And I bet you might have at one point actually thrown a x box out of a damn window.

Not speaking of my personal proudest moments, but I can honestly say that I have always felt more uncomfortable and "psycho" addressing the problem calming. I feel naggy and annoying. I hear myself saying things like, " you hurt my feelings" or "can't you just do this for me." And to be honest it makes me feel insecure and stupid. But when I am raging there is no second guessing myself, when I get to the point on dragging you computer into the street and backing my car over it. I feel a strange sense of justice and security that can't be broken down. There are severe consequences however for those who enjoy a good rage quit every now and again. Honesty is the key, but it is up to how you choose to get your point across. Either way the truth shall set you free...or put you in small claims court. But let them know what going on in that dome of yours or you are sure to lose out on one thing or the other.

It Takes A Thief To Know One.

The hardest part of a relationship isn't you and the other person involved. It's the other people. Traditionally a relationship consists of two people, these two people who have decided for whatever reasons to come in a committed monogamous "situation". But for some reason other people don't appreciate you and your partners happiness. I'm a cynic. I hate watching happy couples post about each other on Facebook or seeing couple shots lining that entry hall of their shitty apartment. I get it, overly happy people are obnoxious and must die.
         However what about the normal people. You know "us".  The people who hate their jobs, and usually their families. The ones who just want to come home and watch a Netflix documentary while working on what gives their lives the little bit of sparkle like writing, painting, fucking or reading. Then just being able to be next to someone who makes the world and the people in a little bit more tolerable until the next day when it all begins again.
        These are the people that suffer. We are the people that suffer. No one ever fucks with stupid happy couples. It's either out of shear in intimidation or laziness (you know that it would take maximum effort infiltrate those forces). What is it though? I can not help but wonder. Why steal someone else's silver lining?
It's the guy who is trying his best to be a good man, hard worker and a supportive partner that gets beat out by the new douche bag trainer at the gym. Or it's the girl who is trying to find time for everything, look decent and maintain a fun personality that gets over passed by the girl who can't figure anything out, but has the manipulation factor that sends other signals. 
       There must be a chemical that is released through our skin when we are happy. It must radiate to such a level that people want to harvest this feeling from the very body from which it is seeping from. And like all good things that are "off the market", people will go to great lengths to obtain thee unobtainable.  We will plunder and steal. Ambush when people least expect it. And leave nothing but ashes when we are done. It's a sad truth that many people have faced before and will face again. But a word to my fellow normal couple's who don't insist on trying to prove how lucky you are to have each other via the internet or through sickening displays of P.D.A.. You are lucky to have found one another, don't take it for granted. Don't lose yourselves in each other, be individuals that better one another and support each other, that is worth a million stupid kissing on the pier pictures. And if someone wants to come in on your situation, let them. If your doing your job right, you shouldn't be worried. Let them come in and test the waters, maybe stir somethings up. And in the midst someone from this happy party walks away, don't fight. Not for that. It's one thing to lose someone and it's another for them to be taken from you. Unfortunately for the majority of us we know when something is being stolen from us, because we ourselves have taken from other people. It takes one to know one.
        There is a small chance though that you won't have anything or any one taken from you either from now on or ever again. Hold on to this idea normal people, it helps. It's never to late to be a better person. 


           

You can't have the truth without those lies...

When you are lied to, you find out who you really are. It's really that simple, its that cookie cutter. Debated, this is assuming that you have found out you have been lied to repeatedly by someone. You learn how strong or sadly in most cases how weak you are. You learn what people can get away, how you can be played and how you can be manipulated by people that obviously understand your vulnerable areas. Mental attacks are a bitch. There is no seeing them coming and even if you do have a idea that they are coming you can never tell in which direction this is actually going to come at you in. And in the best (however) rarest case you actually prove stronger then you or your "opponent" thought. Good for you, you are a bigger person then I.

There seems to be lessons that are learned and burning hate and motivation that I can feed off of for the next 6-8 months of my life. I need that. It's a strange realization. So maybe the joke wasn't on me, maybe I am not the village idiot. I like the bitterness. I enjoy the hurt, please show me you don't care, let me feel it like hot iron pressed up against my cool flesh. I want to submerge my self in the heartache, everywhere I turn I want it to be there, reminding me of the unforgettable lesson of betrayal that people can teach one another. Am I your pupil or your victim? Well I guess that is all in perspective. The only worry I have is that I might not learn the lesson, I may not find the truth. Because I love the lie, I don't know how to be alive without the pain.

The common rules amongst men these days is keep your business to yourself. Watch your fellow man fall to the avid world, and do nothing. Turns out we are only victim to the rules we live by. I decide when to stop or keep going. So I guess the people around will watch me fall, and I will give the same courtesy? No. I won't. The common rule can go fuck itself. I will walk amongst the gladiators of men. "Victory favors those who pay in pain." So let it happen. If I am left alone in my arena then let it be. But I no longer belong to the common rules, I no longer belong to you. Your weak. But not all can be strong. Through you timorous lies, I have seen the only truth you have to offer. I'm not impressed.

I Miss You, Today.

It's been easy. Almost fun letting go of us. But not today. Today I miss you. Everything. Good and bad. The days have been good, busy, productive days. I have been working and going to school. I have seen friends that I haven't seen in years and doors have been opening up for me that I could have never imagined. But today I miss you and none of that matters. I have shown no weakness, no mourning to what was us. I have kept our secret. I have pushed forward, but I will look back some times to make the anguish last. Pain is all I have to remember you by. That makes me sad all day. I can still smell you sometimes if I close my eyes. I still remember the way your laugh sounds and the way your body felt next to mine. I miss you. And no one will ever know. Truthfully I haven't even cried. Not once. I try to think back if at some point if you were honest, if ever there was anything between us. But whats the point. Its helps that it was a secret, it really does. I might never have stopped loving you if the world knew. This way is best, just the way I like it. Alone. I have not felt this comfortable since the day before I met you. But today I miss you. I miss every ounce of your lying, deceitful body. You never know what a relationship meant to you until it has ended. However I am still waiting to see how I feel, permanently. I cant remember if we argued on where to eat, but it was always an interesting time. None the less, I miss you lover, today.