Notes from the Red Bird House

"And I wonder if I ever cross your mind. For me it happens all the time..." I look around and I see her. This. That. The clock. The lamp. Everything. I can't sit on my couch, put my feet on the coffee table, or sit right here at my bar and not remember. She was there. She helped me pick out this apartment. She was with me when I bought my furniture and helped me pick the perfect decorations at Garden Ridge. I loved this place because of her. Because of us. For so long we were inseparable. If we weren't together literally, we were together figuratively via text, Facebook, and email. She was my best friend, my girlfriend, my person. She was what made sense of my world, made me laugh, made me feel beautiful. In as much as I never wanted anyone to be everything, she was damn close. God damn close. "I don't know how I can do without I just need you now..." Oh, I'm quite certain she doesn't need me now. I'm blocked from everywhere it...

I laughed yesteday. For the first time in ages, maybe a month or more, I laughed. Not a hollow-fake-it-til-you-make-it laugh. Not a giggle, but an out and out out loud laugh. LOL at it's best. This morning the same thought crossed my mind and I giggled. And I smiled. A couple times today I thought the same thought and saw the same thing in my mind's eye. I laughed again. After than I knew what I had to do. So, tonight I came home from working all day with friends and I turned on my computer. I logged into Facebook and I put a friend's name into the search bar. When her page came up, I remembered that yesterday was her birthday. Dammit. I had to scroll through a zillion and one birthday posts to find it. But I did. And I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed some more. I hit "Share" and wrote a post. I pulled up my profile and saw my post and I laughed and I laughed and I laughed some more. I laughed so much that I got out my phone, clicked on my Facebook...

If you saw the world through my eyes you would see sunflowers, a tattered American flag, a bowl of Fredericksburg peaches, and the good in people. It's not a bad view, if a little lonely of late. I'm fond of saying "It is what it is". I guess I have the power to change "what is", but some things require more than just me. Some changes are out of my control. For example, I want my old life back. Ain't gonna happen. I can hope, pray, stab a voodoo doll, burn incense, and splash around a little holy water, but my old life is going to stay right where it is - in the past. My friends are fond of placating me with statements like "you'll find a better life" and "you'll find a better wife". I'm tired of placations (if that's even a word). I'm tired of trying to make the best of "it". I'm tired of wishing things were different. I'm tired of taking 50mg of the Anti-Everything Pills. I'm tired of not ...

My shrink says it's good for me. The writing. I know I've been doing a lot more of it lately. And I suppose I'm enjoying it. I don't know really. I feel like I'm hiding behind the words, but maybe I'm just hiding in general. If I'm writing, I'm safe. A friend told me last week that writing keeps me alive. It's my outlet. Take it away and I'm lost. Oh, I'm still lost but at least I'm being productive. I don't feel like writing tonight. And yet here I sit. Phone and rum drink at the ready. Hands poised over the keyboard. Mind trying to think of something to write. It's as if I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I know I don't trust myself to sit still very long. I have to keep some part of me moving at all times. Truth be told, the drinking helps. And I hate that it does. The writing helps, too. My shrink says it's like dreaming. Or works the same way dreaming does. I guess it has something to do with my subc...

Juliet added the last strand of barbed wire and stood back to admire the view. Her fortress was done. Finally. No one would ever get to her again. Julia also stood back to admire to view. There sure was a lot of barbed wire. What needs that much protection, she wondered. Just then, she caught a glimpse. Their eyes met. There was no mistaking the fear in those electric blue eyes. Juliet recoiled. Someone out there had seen her. She went to find more barbed wire, but she had none. Julia stood and stared. What was there to fear when there was so much love in the world? Suddenly she remembered an old story, a fable really. And so she started walking around and around the fortress. What is she doing? Why won't she leave? Juliet pondered. Every once in awhile Julia would see her, there behind the barbed wire. She kept walking. After many days, Juliet approached the edge of her fortress, peered through the barbed wire, and spoke. "I don't want you here. Why don't ...

"Sleep next to you soon." It's a comfort I never imagined. A love I never thought. Her arms around me. Solace, if not peace. Peace, if not solace. We are gypsy souls. She won't be mine. I won't be hers. Still... We hold on and hope. Not for each other. For something. In the meantime, we wait for the day we fall asleep in each other's arms. Solace and peace. Peace and solace. If only we'd known before. And yet... There was no way we could. This time, in it's way, is our time.  As sucky as it is, it is beautful. When her arms are around me. And I awake to find hope.

I'm back writing, but there is one thing I haven't written - A Top Ten List. For the uninitiated, I used to write them somewhat occasionally, more so after I learned that my PL (my 'platonic love', also for the uninitiated) loves them. A Top Ten List is simply ten odd musings. Most have nothing to do with anything of consequence. Still I enjoy writing them and she enjoys reading them. And that, for me, is enough. As always, in no particular order... 10. There are worse things than failing. Success isn't always as awesome as they say it is. 9. I'm making my drinks stronger these days. If I named names, I'd say I'm drinking "________ drinks' but I don't name names. Suffice it to say, my tolerance is building. And I don't mind being drunk as much as I did one short month ago. 8. Counseling is great. Simply because someone is paid listen to me talk about me. 7. I listen to songs on repeat while I write. At the moment? Craig Campbel...

"Secrets are lies." Secrets are lies. She'd read that somewhere. She wished she could remember where. Being able to cite a reference could come in handy. Eh, she'd never buy it anyway. She maintained her truth. Lie enough and it becomes your truth. I would be cool if someone said that. Oh, wait , she thought, I just did . Clever, but she knew no one was listening. I'm nobody's hero. No one cares what I have to say. Not even the people, the person, I love. She was frustrated. Life had dealt her a blow. How to deal? She was a grad student. She did what she did best. What brought A after A. She analyzed. Poured over the facts, worked the logic. And cried. And cried. And cried. There was only one explanation. And it wasn't a good one. She wrote it out. Supported her argument. Logic. Fact. Secret. Lie. It all blurred into a bittersweet victory. Ah-ha! She knew. And suddenly wished she didn't. Life sucked. Why wasn't I born dumb? she thought. Or at ...

She laughed. In four weeks much had changed. She could laugh. And she laughed often. People were amazed at her progress. She knew she had a long way to go. Occasionally she was hopeful, optimistic even. She smiled. But none of it mattered. Not to her. She was hollow. She wanted to be whole again, needed to be whole again. If she let it, the void would consume her. She couldn't let that happen. She was still tempted. More than she would ever admit. Several times a day. She began collecting. Just in case. The day would come. This she knew. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but one day. And the next time she wouldn't fail.

"And I bless the day I met you And I thank God that He let you Lay beside me for a moment that lives on And the good news is I'm better For the time we spent together And the bad news is you're gone" ~ "You're Gone" by Diamond Rio God knows I don't believe in Him. And even this hasn't got me praying. Though I can't say I haven't thought about it. I've wondered, yet held fast in my disbelief. God had nothing to do with you. I didn't Believe when you came. I can't believe my lack of Belief made you go. Still... I find myself grasping at straws.  I wonder if I prayed hard enough would you come back? I know deep in my soul, what happened happened. He had nothing to do with it. It is what is, as I am fond of saying. It doesn't mean I don't miss you and that I don't have regrets. If we counted all of them, we could fill a universe with stars. I am better. Not better overall. Not yet. I will be. I know I will b...

I need a topic. Lately, if I'm not writing, I'm crying. The rum helps. And then again it doesn't. It numbs what it numbs and leaves the rest raw. My friends help. But they aren't here with me. They don't hold me as I'm falling asleep (except that one time) or make sure I eat something besides bagel chips for dinner. Most of the time, I have no idea what to do with myself. Thus rum and writing. It can be a good combination. Or a really bad one. I recall getting emails from my mom 'the morning after' asking me about the previous night's posts. 'What in the Hell were you thinking, Stacee?' was pretty standard. Followed by a beseeching request to delete my posts. I rarely delete. I don't think I ever will again. A year ago it was just beginning. We were just beginning. Now to hear her tell it she's drinking alone and so am I. I know I am.  I had hopes that I'm trying to recover from. I'm pretty sure she has new hopes. And real...

I'm not sure if hard decisions come from character or build character. I know that yesterday I made a big one, probably one of the toughest decisions I've ever made. I don't know what will come of that decision if anything at all. What I do know is that it had to be made and I believe that I fell on the side of good character. Everyone may not see it that way. And that's ok. I know what I know. I'm holding my head a little higher today. We make thousands of decisions everyday. Get out of bed? Hit snooze? Call in sick? Wear the blue shirt? Stop at Starbucks? Work hard? Slack off? Vending machine lunch? Stop for gas on the way home? Pick up Chinese? Drink another glass of wine? Take a bubble bath? Watch a movie? Go to bed early? We make most of our decisions automatically. Work, for most of us on most days, is automatic. So is getting out of bed and getting dressed. Some think more about what they eat, some less. Some know that they are going to finish the bottle of...

Tonight I got called 'a piece of shit' by a blog reader who took offense, apparently, to something I wrote. As one of my long time readers and friends astutely reminded me, this isn't the first time someone has gotten angry about something I wrote. She went on to say it's not always easy being in the blog - she remembers being a 'dumb girl' once upon time - but anger usually stems from the truth. She said I probably hit pretty close to the mark to get that kind of reaction. I have to say such negative reactions require me to question my writing. I can't not. Was I out of line? I don't think so but clearly someone did. Should I stop? Should I give up the blog? Stop speaking my truth? Stop writing? I came home, had a couple drinks, and wrote the blog that had been in my head all night - The 99%. It was pretty positive so I wasn't worried about it offending anyone. I posted it both places I post my blog - Blogger and Facebook. Then something mirac...

I believe that 99% of people do the best they can 99% of the time. Each and everyone of us faces a unique challenge. And I think nearly all of us try our best. We don't purposely want to fail, hurt people, or make the wrong decision. Try as we might, our best sometimes sucks. I know mine does. Everyone's does. We can't help it. We are human. We're going to make mistakes, fuck up. That's ok. As long as we're doing the best we can do in a given situation. Some may argue, but I stand fast in my belief. People are generally good, about 99% of them at any rate. At least the people I run into. This allows me to see the good in everyone. Assuredly I have to look harder at some, but in most the good is pretty evident. I respect people who struggle and cry and screw up and rage against it. I respect people who are slow as molasses, but you know damn well they are moving as fast as they can. I respect vindictive assholes because they aren't really assholes; they are...

Mirror oh mirror What truth do you hold for me?  See and it will be. 

We started and ended with a text message. 'Why do we miss each other?' That one was from her to me just about a year ago. 'Can't wait to hold you' was the one that ended us. Why? Seems delightfully romantic. Well, unfortunately it was to her but not from me. That was one day shy of a month ago and the day the truth started getting murky. Soon the truth all but disappeared and now we are no more. They say. They say. They say. My friends. They mean well. They hate seeing me like this. They say words like lies and manipulation. I say words like I, love, and her. I can't tell you why I still do. Maybe I'm clinging too tightly to a used to be or a fantasy. I really don't know. What I do know is that she loved me better and made me feel more beautiful than anyone ever had. Maybe I'm letting that color my judgment. Still, I have a hard time thinking of her the way they do. I guess that's because I know her, I love her, and I think she still loves ...

It has come to my attention that I have a new blog reader (Kenzi, I'm not referring to you. Thanks for the 'follow', by the way! I hope we can get together and talk writing soon). I am so happy that you found my little slice of life. Welcome, welcome. You've come to the party a bit late - I've been doing this for almost eight years. As a newcomer, you may not be familiar with the ground rules of my blog. I used to lay them out quite often, but then I assumed only my mom was still reading so I stopped. Today is a great day! A new reader! I can hardly contain my excitement! So just for you, here are my ground rules - 1. This is MY BLOG. That means, to paraphrase a dear friend of mine, I get to write WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT. And I've written about almost everything  you can imagine - my life, the people who populate my life (including current and former girlfriends), lesbian sex, heterosexual sex, religion (usually my utter disdain for all things Christian), pol...

With truth in her eyes And torment in her soul  In silence she fell. 

I've never been a dishonest person. Not that I've never told a lie. Because I have. My mom caught me a bunch when I was a kid. "Look me in the eye and tell me that." Yikes. I learned not to lie. In the intervening years, I've told my share of little white fibs. About haircuts and maybe about the occasional migraine I didn't have. I've more or less refrained from anything grander. Because of my mother, I'm always pretty sure I'll get caught and have to look someone in the eye. FYI, I suck at looking people in the eye. This is pretty much why I live my life the way I do. Sadly, not everyone was raised by my mom and her ruthless pursuit of the truth. People lie. Some of those lies are good. And some are bad. Really, really bad. If only these folks had had my mom. They'd have learned their lesson long before adulthood. Lie and I assure you, you're going to get caught. Getting caught sucks,  by the way. Getting caught means twenty questions an...

"This is life. Bad things happen. You find your people, you find your person, and you lean on them." ~ Meredith, 'Gray's Anatomy'     "...You're still my person, even if I'm not yours."   ~ Meredith, 'Gray's Anatomy'     "So, we pick and choose who we want to remain close to and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them. The people who are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping.   And sure sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you needed." ~ Meredith, 'Gray's Anatomy'     "You are my person. You will always be my person."   ~ Cristina, 'Gray's Anatomy'     I had a person. I did. We agreed a short time into our relationship. She was mine. I was hers. For the first time in as long...

One step down the path She forgave every trespass And found peace within.

I believe in many things. God just doesn't happen to be one of them. Strangely, I believe in many of the same things religious people believe in. Just with a secular twist. Faith. I believe in it so much that I live by it. My faith, however, is not in some higher power that may or may not hear my prayers and may or may not choose to grant them. My faith lies purely within myself. Within my strength. Within my honesty. Within my ability to see the positive in people. Within my achievements and my failures. I have faith that everything will work out...eventually...and that peace and happiness will return. Forgiveness. My forgiveness comes from within. And I don't have to ask God and wait for His reply. True healing cannot occur when grudges are held or past trespasses are continually dredged up. I believe that 99% of people do their best 99% of the time. Mistakes are made. People fuck up, hurt others, hurt themselves. Shit happens. I believe that it is within my powe...

They ask me why I did it. Thus far only one person has understood. I'm tired. This bag of false promises gets heavy, heavier than you would ever imagine. I should know; I've done it many times before. And I really don't want to do it again. They can say it's her; it's the women I choose to date. I know the truth. I live the truth with every breath I take. It's me. You see my relationships follow the same pattern, over and over and over again. 1. They say I'm perfect, amazing, wonderful, awesome, everything. Insert whichever the extravagantly good adjective you want, I've been them all. 2. They fall in love, tell me they love me. They make me feel safe, make all kinds of promises about how much they love me. 3. Feeling safe, I jump in. I fall deeply in love with them. I try to make them feel as loved and wonderful as they make me feel. 4. Two to ten months pass (sometimes less, never more). 5. They pull away, start seeing someone else, cheat, ...

"Sometime, not so far from now, I may not be writing about you anymore.  Does that scare you? It should."     I started my blog in October 2006. I was in the throws of an incredible break up and to deal, I wrote. MySpace was the cool thing back then so that's what I did. When I moved to Austin in 2009, I decided to take my blog pro - I created an official blogsite. Notes From the Red Bird House was born. Once FaceBook took off I started posting 'notes' there too. I've been more popular and less popular. For a time, I was water cooler talk in Texarkana. Now, I'm lucky if my mom reads me. Regardless, I know for a fact that my words speak. What I write matters, maybe not to everyone, but to a special few. They are the ones I continue to write for. They are why I first stood in my truth and why I continue to do so today.     I've been fond of saying that I write about a lot of things. I mean once upon a time, I wrote about 'tossing salad...

“ I’ll never settle down, That’s what I always thought…”                                                                                                                                                             ...

'She's pretty...damnably pretty...', she thought silently, shaking her head imperceptibly. She willed herself to look away, but something drew her back. Something always drew her back. God bless... Why does she have to be so pretty?  Was it imperfect perfection or perfect imperfection? Whatever, whichever. She had it. She was. Ideal. 'Trouble. Yes, trouble...'. she mused. 'The damn question and the answer...'  'Effin women,' she continued. 'Why do they have to be so pretty? Why does she have to be so pretty? And so impossible, so remote? Yet so real.' 'You're getting nowhere fast', she scolded herself. 'Back to reality, Stacee.'  'But... what if...?', she allowed. 'What if...?'  'What if it's not a coincidence? Seriously?' She glanced back. 'I know. But damn... Why does she have to be so pretty?'

Rose and Fell With beauty she rose Together we unravelled In heartbreak I fell ~ Undone Completely undone  Devastated to the core Yet still lost in her

I sat down to write tonight. Thus far I've written ten words. It's not like I've been staring into space for two hours. I've had one really large rum drink, burned the roof of my mouth on a Totino's party pizza, talked to a friend on the phone, chatted with another via Facebook message, taken the dogs to potty, played a couple words on Words With Friends,  and responded to various comments on Facebook.  I have no idea what I intended to write about tonight. Honesty? Keeping promises? I'm big on both these days. More fiction? I'm working on a story about an attempted suicide. Another chapter of my novel? I actually thought about it on my way to work. So, I poured a really large rum drink and fired up the computer. Before I knew it I was a couple sheets from being a couple sheets. In all honesty, I'm better this way. Less lonely. I hate that the rum fills the void, but something has to. I hate being alone and I find myself alone a lot, for the first time...