The honest truth...

After throwing up rainbows and positive attitude and love and greatness toward others, filling my life with everything wonderful has become a habitual thing. Great, since this is all, for once, authentic, and life is never-ending FUN. Joy. Love.

Sadly, after three months on autopilot for all of this, I've somehow managed to slump into an ugly bit when I'm on my own time, called "lonely and sick of trying."

The good thing is that I've effectively negated any possibility of falling back on any old exes. The bad thing is this leaves me with nothing to think about when satisfying any sole, human need - *heh hem*  - because this inevitably leads to hurt feelings or anger, which negates the entire feeling I was going for in the first place. 

The good thing is that I'm not settling for unhappy in love and really enjoying being a single girl in the city. The bad thing is that I'm lonely as hell and despite all this, still want someone to curl up with on the couch and watch movies with at the end of the day.

The good thing is that in leu of missing out on an old relationship that was never good for either of us anyway is that I've had an array of free time to fill up with my glorious friends, travel, burlesque, movies, etc. etc. etc. The bad thing is that even if I wanted a relationship now, I probably wouldn't have time for it.

The good thing is I've gotten back to me. The bad thing is that I've been missing the hell out of an old boyfriend lately --- and considering the circumstances, this is horrible because there is not chance in hell we could even sit down over a cup of coffee and talk about the good times. This of course, in his mind means that we're back together, which means my wall would have to go back up and on-gaurd, skittish samantha would return indefinitely.  no thanks.

The good thing is I have plans later tonight so that I don't have to sit here on the verge of tears for very much longer. The bad thing is it's just more of the same tomorrow.

How do you explain when you don't have the words?

Actions, right?

I had a throwback to 19-years-old as I drove to see Kate Winslet in The Reader last night, blasting all of the music I had once used to define myself. This was before complications. Before they came along. Before I defined my achievements, beauty, qualities and music taste by what they thought appropriate. That throwback was empowering and heartbreaking because I am not a weak. I am not easily-influenced. I am not shy to say what i think or feel, yet I allowed myself to step aside so someone else could take the driver's seat, when they surely they just wanted me to be me and hope the disagreements may flare some fire for the bedroom.

An extreme case has thrown me dangerously in the other direction - out of protection for myself in the last year. And yet, in January, while I was in Seattle - something changed. I don't know how else to explain it but with a book title: "One day my soul just opened up."

No more worrying about things that didn't matter. No more putting up with people who I never really wanted to in the first place. No more judging and being angry just to keep some invisible wall up between me and anyone who may have a fighting chance of getting to know the real person beneath my thick skin. All of these changes have been more than welcomed. I'm often filled with grace and kindness where negative thoughts and insecurity once screamed for attention. So much less exhausting. So much... better.

My idealist has kicked in and reminded me that maybe love isn't total crap and there still can be some hope for some old-fashioned tradition. I want to be dancing with my handsome man in tall pants and suspenders to Louis Armstrong, then wake up in the morning to 1 boiled egg, a cake donut and black coffee, just like in old movies. Instead of feeling frustrated about how unrealistic that is, I mostly just wonder, Where are you?.