In 10 days at this time, I'll be getting all dolled up; hair and makeup, lingerie, shoes and the dress. Our flowers will be delivered, photographer will arrive, and I'll make my final drive to the church as Lauren Greenslit.
It's crazy to think how fast it came; way back in November when we became engaged, 10 months seemed like forever-away...and now it's in 10 DAYS.
Over the past few weeks, RSVPs arrived daily, and we were disappointed with how many non-responses there were. Especially when we found out those no-shows were because of work, or games. C'man, really? You've known for 10 months and all of a sudden you can't get work off? Or miss a game? It said a lot to us about certain people, and we had our choice words about it and moved on with our love for one another and focused on the importance of our big day.
That's all it should really be about anyway - love. I actually hate the fact that I have some big expensive dress I'll wear once, and that I have to worry about how my hair and make up will come out, or consider other people's feelings when it comes to the music choices made or the food we've prepared. Aren't we missing the big picture here? People go to weddings because they want to be in the presence of true love, and also, to support those who have been lucky enough to find it. Everything else is icing on the cake.
As the next ten days both drag and fly by, I look forward with anticipation of God's greatest gift. And we feel lucky to have those we love and are close to there to celebrate with us.
"Love is patient, love is kind
It is not jealous, is not pompous,
it is not infalted, it is not rude,
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrong doing
but rejoices with truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails."
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Wedding Jitters
Well, the countdown continues: 18 days until Eric and I become husband and wife. RSVP cards are coming in by the day, and I'm sure to be developing a case of arthritis after hand-writing each seating card and thank-you note. Together forever in just over 2 weeks.
...Forever!? This word, along with "life-long" threw me in the cold feet direction the other night as Eric and I read our words of wisdom cards from our wedding shower. My fear didn't come from thinking I couldn't do it, but that our focus is on the near future; the wedding, children, a house, vacations...all the luxuries of marriage and family. Reality check, please?
Eric and I then spent the night discussing our future beyond this dream world. How will we handle the stress of adding to our family? How will we be able to work, be parents, and still find the energy and time to make each other happy? How will we handle 60+ years of ups and downs, arguments, and hard times? Especially when we don't see divorce as an option. There's no way out; the only way to make it work is to do just that - MAKE IT WORK. Forever is a long, long time. Lucky for us, we feel confident that beyond the golden years, we'll still be together, holding hands and looking back on silly things we argued over, and how they made us stronger. That was Eric's advice to me in my worried state of mind the other night - it's not how many arguments we have, it's the fact that we get through them together and come out closer and stronger; another obsticle overcome.
In a very appropriate Lauren-Eric world, allow me to reference Boy Meets World; Topanga was worried to make a life commitment to Corey because her parents were getting a divorce, and she believed all hope for true love was gone. She was worried to ever cause Corey the pain she saw her parents going through - until she talked to her mother. She explained to Topanga that although she was no longer married, and that yes, the divorce was rough, she would have rather been married and divorced, than to never had experienced the love she shared with Topanga's father; that if she knew they would end up divorced, the years they spent together, happy, were well worth it. As the old saying goes: it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. So, Topanga agreed to marry Corey, by saying: "here's to the rest of our lives, or until tomorrow".
Eric and I are not enterting this marriage thinking "Hey! Let's give this a shot and if it doesn't work out, there's always divorce"; we are getting married to make a life long commitment to each other, however, neither of us can predict the future. We can only hope for the best, try our hardest, and know that every moment spent together is worth it. I love him with all my heart, trust him unconditionally, and know he feels the same in return. I can't wait to see what the future has in store for us, and to see how we over come each obsticle thrown our way.
So, goodbye wedding jitters; here's to the countdown - to the wedding, to forever.
...Forever!? This word, along with "life-long" threw me in the cold feet direction the other night as Eric and I read our words of wisdom cards from our wedding shower. My fear didn't come from thinking I couldn't do it, but that our focus is on the near future; the wedding, children, a house, vacations...all the luxuries of marriage and family. Reality check, please?
Eric and I then spent the night discussing our future beyond this dream world. How will we handle the stress of adding to our family? How will we be able to work, be parents, and still find the energy and time to make each other happy? How will we handle 60+ years of ups and downs, arguments, and hard times? Especially when we don't see divorce as an option. There's no way out; the only way to make it work is to do just that - MAKE IT WORK. Forever is a long, long time. Lucky for us, we feel confident that beyond the golden years, we'll still be together, holding hands and looking back on silly things we argued over, and how they made us stronger. That was Eric's advice to me in my worried state of mind the other night - it's not how many arguments we have, it's the fact that we get through them together and come out closer and stronger; another obsticle overcome.
In a very appropriate Lauren-Eric world, allow me to reference Boy Meets World; Topanga was worried to make a life commitment to Corey because her parents were getting a divorce, and she believed all hope for true love was gone. She was worried to ever cause Corey the pain she saw her parents going through - until she talked to her mother. She explained to Topanga that although she was no longer married, and that yes, the divorce was rough, she would have rather been married and divorced, than to never had experienced the love she shared with Topanga's father; that if she knew they would end up divorced, the years they spent together, happy, were well worth it. As the old saying goes: it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. So, Topanga agreed to marry Corey, by saying: "here's to the rest of our lives, or until tomorrow".
Eric and I are not enterting this marriage thinking "Hey! Let's give this a shot and if it doesn't work out, there's always divorce"; we are getting married to make a life long commitment to each other, however, neither of us can predict the future. We can only hope for the best, try our hardest, and know that every moment spent together is worth it. I love him with all my heart, trust him unconditionally, and know he feels the same in return. I can't wait to see what the future has in store for us, and to see how we over come each obsticle thrown our way.
So, goodbye wedding jitters; here's to the countdown - to the wedding, to forever.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Problems to be worked through
So, as the "who works harder" arguments simmer down, we move on to our next common disagreement; our work out schedules.
Eric has signed up to work with a trainer 3x a week after work, and luckily, 2 of the 3 nights, I am at work while he's at the gym, so we don't miss out on that much time together. The hard part? Trying to squeeze my work out schedule somewhere in there, too. Is it more important to have the extra time together? Or for me to have an equal amount of time to exercise as well?
Wednesday night is my night to hit the gym. I have the option to leave Lyla in the child care center of our YMCA, or also to leave her home with Eric after work. I am grateful for this night "off" as I call it (seeing how it's nearly the only break I get from motherhood), but after previously running 5-6 times a week, one 1-hour trip to the gym per week doesn't really cut it. Not to mention, we have this small thing called a wedding coming up in just over 6 weeks...Crunch time, people!
When I brought this up to Eric, I expected him to be indifferent about it, since he had 3 days to work out and I only had 1; I didn't feel I was asking for much. The day I preferred, he preferred as well. Then there was the argument about this being more time apart from each other during the week, which, yes, was my primary argument when he mentioned working out 3x a week instead of just the 2 nights I was at work. So in his opinion, me adding a work out day is just another wasted hour that could be spent together. True, but I'm in this wedding too. Hot Bride? Yes please. 2nd gym night, added.
When the discussion of a possible weekend work out came up as well, I seemed to have crossed some line. In his opinion, I'm cutting more time away from each other. In my opinion, this one day per weekend will only equal his work out days, and I could even run before he is awake, cutting out no time. Fine, but now he wants to work out on the weekend because I can, too. Fair? To him, yes. To me? I'm not sure. I am glad he is eager to work out because it's a great thing for him, and he's always in a good mood afterwards. But if his argument was about time together, why would he run off to the gym on weekends when he already had his 3 days, just because I may have gone for a quick 30 minute run?
I cannot wait to look back at these blogs, and laugh about what "silly" problems we once had. We always seem to work through things, and I'm sure these will be things to move on from, too. But hey, that's what blogs are for, right?
Eric has signed up to work with a trainer 3x a week after work, and luckily, 2 of the 3 nights, I am at work while he's at the gym, so we don't miss out on that much time together. The hard part? Trying to squeeze my work out schedule somewhere in there, too. Is it more important to have the extra time together? Or for me to have an equal amount of time to exercise as well?
Wednesday night is my night to hit the gym. I have the option to leave Lyla in the child care center of our YMCA, or also to leave her home with Eric after work. I am grateful for this night "off" as I call it (seeing how it's nearly the only break I get from motherhood), but after previously running 5-6 times a week, one 1-hour trip to the gym per week doesn't really cut it. Not to mention, we have this small thing called a wedding coming up in just over 6 weeks...Crunch time, people!
When I brought this up to Eric, I expected him to be indifferent about it, since he had 3 days to work out and I only had 1; I didn't feel I was asking for much. The day I preferred, he preferred as well. Then there was the argument about this being more time apart from each other during the week, which, yes, was my primary argument when he mentioned working out 3x a week instead of just the 2 nights I was at work. So in his opinion, me adding a work out day is just another wasted hour that could be spent together. True, but I'm in this wedding too. Hot Bride? Yes please. 2nd gym night, added.
When the discussion of a possible weekend work out came up as well, I seemed to have crossed some line. In his opinion, I'm cutting more time away from each other. In my opinion, this one day per weekend will only equal his work out days, and I could even run before he is awake, cutting out no time. Fine, but now he wants to work out on the weekend because I can, too. Fair? To him, yes. To me? I'm not sure. I am glad he is eager to work out because it's a great thing for him, and he's always in a good mood afterwards. But if his argument was about time together, why would he run off to the gym on weekends when he already had his 3 days, just because I may have gone for a quick 30 minute run?
I cannot wait to look back at these blogs, and laugh about what "silly" problems we once had. We always seem to work through things, and I'm sure these will be things to move on from, too. But hey, that's what blogs are for, right?
Full Time Mom or Full Time Job?
Is a 40 hour job necessarily harder than being a full time mom? My Fiance tends to think so, and therefore we find ourselves in front of this issue often. Now, let me start by saying that I know how hard he works, and I really truly respect him for it; he's up at 4:10 every morning to be out the door by 5am, and at work by 6:30. He works hard all day as an electrician, on his feet and working with his hands, only to come home and (most often) be willing to help out with dinner, dishes and laundry. He is absolutely wonderful, until I chime in and mention that I may be tired from working all day, too.
One hurtful thing he said to me one day was "how hard is it to go to the playground?" And at first, it made me so angry to hear him say this. But then I began to think about it, and have come up with this conclusion: It's not that my job is necessarily harder than his, but in my opinion, requires a lot more energy, which at the end of the day is totally drained.
I do put a lot of this on myself, because I choose to do each and everything I do with my daughter. No, I don't have to take the 45 minute detour to the playground, but it's the only means of exercise I can fit in. Yes, I could let her watch tv or movies back to back so I can relax, but why do that when we can read books, play tag, or color outside with chalk? Being a good mother requires a constant up-beat, happy attitude, no matter what is going on in your life. If something upsets me, I'm not going to talk to my 2 year old about it, or take it out on her by not playing with her because "I'm not in the mood". On these days, come Lyla's bedtime, I'm pretty much ready for bed myself. Having to be happy and the best you can be, when you're feeling anything but, is hard. Simple as that. Zzz...
Eric often thinks its easier for me than for him, when I remind him of the times he's watched Lyla for longer lengths of time, and how tired he was in the end. And often this is true, since I am the mommy, and I am the one she cries for. A hug and kiss from me is what can make things "all bedduh". But who can I give her to when she's throwing a fit in the grocery store? Or throwing her plate full of food off the high chair? I don't have anyone to hand her off to. While Eric watches her at home and counts down the minutes until I return to relieve him, this is not something I have. No complaints, but again, it just creates more exhaustion.
Physically, there's no doubt he works harder in a day than I do most days. But his 40 hours is nothing compared to my 24-7 in my opinion. I don't get weekends off. I'm not out of work by 3. I wake up 1-5 times during the night with my toddler who still wakes often. So, both in our stubborn minds, we both think that we work harder than the other. I just hope we find some balance in allowing each other to be equally exhausted, and have respect for both hard workings jobs.
One hurtful thing he said to me one day was "how hard is it to go to the playground?" And at first, it made me so angry to hear him say this. But then I began to think about it, and have come up with this conclusion: It's not that my job is necessarily harder than his, but in my opinion, requires a lot more energy, which at the end of the day is totally drained.
I do put a lot of this on myself, because I choose to do each and everything I do with my daughter. No, I don't have to take the 45 minute detour to the playground, but it's the only means of exercise I can fit in. Yes, I could let her watch tv or movies back to back so I can relax, but why do that when we can read books, play tag, or color outside with chalk? Being a good mother requires a constant up-beat, happy attitude, no matter what is going on in your life. If something upsets me, I'm not going to talk to my 2 year old about it, or take it out on her by not playing with her because "I'm not in the mood". On these days, come Lyla's bedtime, I'm pretty much ready for bed myself. Having to be happy and the best you can be, when you're feeling anything but, is hard. Simple as that. Zzz...
Eric often thinks its easier for me than for him, when I remind him of the times he's watched Lyla for longer lengths of time, and how tired he was in the end. And often this is true, since I am the mommy, and I am the one she cries for. A hug and kiss from me is what can make things "all bedduh". But who can I give her to when she's throwing a fit in the grocery store? Or throwing her plate full of food off the high chair? I don't have anyone to hand her off to. While Eric watches her at home and counts down the minutes until I return to relieve him, this is not something I have. No complaints, but again, it just creates more exhaustion.
Physically, there's no doubt he works harder in a day than I do most days. But his 40 hours is nothing compared to my 24-7 in my opinion. I don't get weekends off. I'm not out of work by 3. I wake up 1-5 times during the night with my toddler who still wakes often. So, both in our stubborn minds, we both think that we work harder than the other. I just hope we find some balance in allowing each other to be equally exhausted, and have respect for both hard workings jobs.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Really!?
"Are you going to let me see my daughter or no?" ...This is the text message I received from Lyla's father last night after 3 weeks of no contact; our last conversation being that he wanted to sign Lyla over to me and give up his parenting rights.
Knowing that responding would only lead to the same conversation I've had with him countless times, I stormed around my apartment exclaiming "Really!? Really, is he serious!?" while Eric contacted his aunt who works for a lawfirm for further direction. My blood was boiling, but not responding could lead to him claiming I was actually preventing him from seeing Lyla, and be used against me in court, I decided to sent a nonchalant response of "I never prevented it". As just as I assuned, this lead to the usual accusations of me breaking the court order, turning his daughter against him, "brainwashing her" to hate him, and so on.
"Why do you want to kick me out of Lyla's life so bad?" ...he's the one who wanted to give her up!
"I can't afford the ride there" ...maybe he should have thought of his daughter before he bought that $30,000 car?
"If you're not ganna let me see her I'll sign her over" ...again, I'm not preventing anything, and if he's willing to do this, then he doesn't deserve her anyway.
And just to prove how absolutely frustrating and all over the place these conversations with Ben can be: By the end of our texting-war, Ben said he's never giving up his daughter, and was trying to accuse me of abuse so that he can have full custody.
He tried to scare me, by saying things like "you're no mother of the year, you don't even know what i have on you!" To which I respond that I know he has nothing, and that he doesn't scare me in the least. And the abuse thing? To me, is just funny, because I rarely raise my voice to that little girl.
He then told me he was going to see her tomorrow and demanded I meet him half way. Again, a conversation I've had countless times, that if I were speaking instead of texting, would sound totally monotone: "no ben you broke the court order and so i am no longer required to meet you by orders of my lawyer" ...practially one long word at this point rather than a sentence. And when I told him, again, that he was more than welcome to come get her from her home in Fairhaven, his response was "really? I thought u said I didnt deserve to be in her life?" ...Really, Ben? I am so tired of these games of his.
I have been nothing but consistant with my responses to this ridiculousness, stating facts from our court agreement and sending reminders about what is in Lyla's best interest. He's the one who goes back and forth between saying he wants a paternity test and wants to sign her over, to him taking her away from me for full custody...but I'm the one who he says needs a "psycologest" as he says?
Another back-n-forth example was why he didn't give me is work schedule on time, as the court ordered. He first started by saying that it was a dead season at work, and that there was no way to know his schedule, and then went on to claim he sent it to me the minute he got his hands on it. Neither in which are true. I told him that if he knew he was going to be unaware of his schedule the following week, he could have easily called and told me that, just as if he were to call me WITH his schedule, but he didn't. And as far as him "always" sending me his schedule? I have received only one email from him with it.
I just feel lucky to have saved every email, and every text, so that I will have proof in court when he tried to pull these outrageous accusations. I also felt it necessary to share with people; A) so I can share my frustration, and B) so that people can just see what he is doing to me and our daughter. I have no doubts that I am the best mother I can be, and also, that I have the world to back me up on it. I can do nothing but think of what is in Lyla's best interest, and when I tried explaining this to Ben, is when he chose to end the conversation.
To make matters worse? Lyla got to talk to Ben yesterday. Her face lit up as she said "Hi Daddy!! Daddy wears a hat", and it broke my heart. Even more when I held her and she begged me to see him, and when I said "we can't right now", she shrugged her shoulders asking "maybe later?" and this began the waterworks. Now, I know that if she saw him after 2 months she wouldn't do well with him, seeing how the last time he saw her it was only for a few hours because he couldn't get her to eat or stop crying; and that was only after one week of missed visitation. But the fact that she was just saying she wanted to, made me so sad for her.
Ben needs to make a choice. Be in her life consistantly, or get the fuck out (pardon my french). This upsets me more than anything, to see this little person who I love more than anything in this world, unknowingly effected by something pertaining so greatly to her life. It's not fair, what he's doing; all this back and forth. If he wants in, he needs to make the effort. If not, he needs to let us move on with our lives. I have to admit, that at this point I am pushing for him to just sign her on over, or atleast give up his legal visitation. I was looking forward to not having to share my daughter on holidays, and to have her all to myself. But, selfish reasons aside, I was looking forward to not having to see Lyla's face when Ben had to work on a visitation day, or went weeks without seeing her because he couldn't afford the gas money. I was looking forward to getting such a poison out of her life for good, and now that this may not happen, is the most suffocating feeling. You want to protect your child, but when the harmful one is the biological and legal father, there's nothing I can do. And so, I am stuck.
....Really, Ben, really?
Knowing that responding would only lead to the same conversation I've had with him countless times, I stormed around my apartment exclaiming "Really!? Really, is he serious!?" while Eric contacted his aunt who works for a lawfirm for further direction. My blood was boiling, but not responding could lead to him claiming I was actually preventing him from seeing Lyla, and be used against me in court, I decided to sent a nonchalant response of "I never prevented it". As just as I assuned, this lead to the usual accusations of me breaking the court order, turning his daughter against him, "brainwashing her" to hate him, and so on.
"Why do you want to kick me out of Lyla's life so bad?" ...he's the one who wanted to give her up!
"I can't afford the ride there" ...maybe he should have thought of his daughter before he bought that $30,000 car?
"If you're not ganna let me see her I'll sign her over" ...again, I'm not preventing anything, and if he's willing to do this, then he doesn't deserve her anyway.
And just to prove how absolutely frustrating and all over the place these conversations with Ben can be: By the end of our texting-war, Ben said he's never giving up his daughter, and was trying to accuse me of abuse so that he can have full custody.
He tried to scare me, by saying things like "you're no mother of the year, you don't even know what i have on you!" To which I respond that I know he has nothing, and that he doesn't scare me in the least. And the abuse thing? To me, is just funny, because I rarely raise my voice to that little girl.
He then told me he was going to see her tomorrow and demanded I meet him half way. Again, a conversation I've had countless times, that if I were speaking instead of texting, would sound totally monotone: "no ben you broke the court order and so i am no longer required to meet you by orders of my lawyer" ...practially one long word at this point rather than a sentence. And when I told him, again, that he was more than welcome to come get her from her home in Fairhaven, his response was "really? I thought u said I didnt deserve to be in her life?" ...Really, Ben? I am so tired of these games of his.
I have been nothing but consistant with my responses to this ridiculousness, stating facts from our court agreement and sending reminders about what is in Lyla's best interest. He's the one who goes back and forth between saying he wants a paternity test and wants to sign her over, to him taking her away from me for full custody...but I'm the one who he says needs a "psycologest" as he says?
Another back-n-forth example was why he didn't give me is work schedule on time, as the court ordered. He first started by saying that it was a dead season at work, and that there was no way to know his schedule, and then went on to claim he sent it to me the minute he got his hands on it. Neither in which are true. I told him that if he knew he was going to be unaware of his schedule the following week, he could have easily called and told me that, just as if he were to call me WITH his schedule, but he didn't. And as far as him "always" sending me his schedule? I have received only one email from him with it.
I just feel lucky to have saved every email, and every text, so that I will have proof in court when he tried to pull these outrageous accusations. I also felt it necessary to share with people; A) so I can share my frustration, and B) so that people can just see what he is doing to me and our daughter. I have no doubts that I am the best mother I can be, and also, that I have the world to back me up on it. I can do nothing but think of what is in Lyla's best interest, and when I tried explaining this to Ben, is when he chose to end the conversation.
To make matters worse? Lyla got to talk to Ben yesterday. Her face lit up as she said "Hi Daddy!! Daddy wears a hat", and it broke my heart. Even more when I held her and she begged me to see him, and when I said "we can't right now", she shrugged her shoulders asking "maybe later?" and this began the waterworks. Now, I know that if she saw him after 2 months she wouldn't do well with him, seeing how the last time he saw her it was only for a few hours because he couldn't get her to eat or stop crying; and that was only after one week of missed visitation. But the fact that she was just saying she wanted to, made me so sad for her.
Ben needs to make a choice. Be in her life consistantly, or get the fuck out (pardon my french). This upsets me more than anything, to see this little person who I love more than anything in this world, unknowingly effected by something pertaining so greatly to her life. It's not fair, what he's doing; all this back and forth. If he wants in, he needs to make the effort. If not, he needs to let us move on with our lives. I have to admit, that at this point I am pushing for him to just sign her on over, or atleast give up his legal visitation. I was looking forward to not having to share my daughter on holidays, and to have her all to myself. But, selfish reasons aside, I was looking forward to not having to see Lyla's face when Ben had to work on a visitation day, or went weeks without seeing her because he couldn't afford the gas money. I was looking forward to getting such a poison out of her life for good, and now that this may not happen, is the most suffocating feeling. You want to protect your child, but when the harmful one is the biological and legal father, there's nothing I can do. And so, I am stuck.
....Really, Ben, really?
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Death
I just learned that a high school classmate had passed away this morning. And although this was not someone I was particularly close with, I knew him. And the fact that he was here yesterday and gone today really made me think, and ultimately, turned me into a sobbing mess.
My first reaction was just how fragile life is. And from there, I moved to feel very lucky to have not lost any close friends or family members, and also for my own health & that of my daughter. I don't think I could love anyone as much as I love that little girl, and knowing that sometime next week a mother will have to bury her child just haunts me. My daughter is 2, her son was atleast 23; I can't imagine the memories they have made over the years and the pain she must be suffering, and that is only in comparison with the barely 2 year time frame I have had with my own child. The thought of losing her brings me to instant tears.
Then, my thoughts moved to the last time I saw my grandfather. I was the last person he spoke anything recognizable to: "I love you". I knew he'd hate to see me cry; it was one of the first things he said to my mother when he learned his cancer treatments weren't working: "what about Lauren? what about the grandchildren?" So, I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling to try and avoid the dam in my eyes from breaking and allowing the waterfall to come crashing down. "I love you, too", I managed. I'd do anything to have Eric meet him, to have him back.
And as my emotional night came to an end, Eric and I got into a small argument leading us to sleep back to back instead of in my usual "nook", and after about 10 minutes of laying there in silence I couldn't take it. I moved his sleeping, heavy arm around my body and lay my head on his chest. I silently listened to his heart beating and as tears began to roll down my cheek, over my nose, and onto him, I got up to write this blog. It was a sign of life. Something that my high school classmate no longer has, and something I am ever so grateful to listen to in the chest of the man I love most in this world.
It's tragedies like this that really put things in perspective sometimes. That argument we just had was nothing compared to the thought of losing him, and so, now that this is off my mind and onto paper (or laptop), I'll crawl back into bed, and take my position in my nook, where I can hear the life of my future husband beating.
My first reaction was just how fragile life is. And from there, I moved to feel very lucky to have not lost any close friends or family members, and also for my own health & that of my daughter. I don't think I could love anyone as much as I love that little girl, and knowing that sometime next week a mother will have to bury her child just haunts me. My daughter is 2, her son was atleast 23; I can't imagine the memories they have made over the years and the pain she must be suffering, and that is only in comparison with the barely 2 year time frame I have had with my own child. The thought of losing her brings me to instant tears.
Then, my thoughts moved to the last time I saw my grandfather. I was the last person he spoke anything recognizable to: "I love you". I knew he'd hate to see me cry; it was one of the first things he said to my mother when he learned his cancer treatments weren't working: "what about Lauren? what about the grandchildren?" So, I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling to try and avoid the dam in my eyes from breaking and allowing the waterfall to come crashing down. "I love you, too", I managed. I'd do anything to have Eric meet him, to have him back.
And as my emotional night came to an end, Eric and I got into a small argument leading us to sleep back to back instead of in my usual "nook", and after about 10 minutes of laying there in silence I couldn't take it. I moved his sleeping, heavy arm around my body and lay my head on his chest. I silently listened to his heart beating and as tears began to roll down my cheek, over my nose, and onto him, I got up to write this blog. It was a sign of life. Something that my high school classmate no longer has, and something I am ever so grateful to listen to in the chest of the man I love most in this world.
It's tragedies like this that really put things in perspective sometimes. That argument we just had was nothing compared to the thought of losing him, and so, now that this is off my mind and onto paper (or laptop), I'll crawl back into bed, and take my position in my nook, where I can hear the life of my future husband beating.
When Lies Become The Truth
When I was 18, my boyfriend of over 2 years and I had broken up, and I hooked up with his best friend. This was never the intention when he had asked me to hang out that afternoon, but he put me in a high-pressure situation and disguised it with the a childish game of truth or dare. Though I don't remember how, my ex-boyfriend found out about this little hang out, and naturally, was anything but thrilled. When the 3 of us got together to talk about it, I gushed and cried and spilled everything in an outburst apology filled with guilt. And the best friend? He denied the whole thing. He tried telling me I was crazy, and was making things up to destroy their friendship. If I couldn't have him, no one could, right? Wrong. My ex eventually believed me, explaining how his friend had a tendency to change things in his head, and then actually truly believe these changes were real. I though this was absolute bullshit; he knew what he did, and he knew what happened. This is what I thought anyway, until it happened to me, too.
Years ago, I made up this incredible lie, for no reason at all. At first, it was just to myself; thinking of what could be different if this lie were true. And then to test those differences, I told someone this lie actually happened. The way I felt as I heard the untrue words spew from my mouth was empowering. And so, I would tell another person here and there, but never anyone too close to me, I couldn't do that. The more I talked about it, the more I thought about it, and the more elaborate it became in my head; I eventually even created a visual of what I imagined this lie would look like, feel like. And there, in my own head, I too, believed this lie to be true. The more I believed it, the more I felt compelled to talk about it, because just like any other real situation in life, you talk about things with people you are close to. And this eventually lead to me telling close friends and even some family members. If you gave me a lie detector test and asked me if this were true, I would have passed with flying colors. I had talked about it so much, I could actually SEE what I was talking about, I could feel the feelings I was describing. To me, this WAS real.
It wasn't until I had Lyla that I went back and thought about this lie. I was looking at her, brand new to this world; a clean slate. Free of anything bad in life. And all of a sudden, I woke up from this dream world I had been living in, and felt a great deal of guilt. To this day, there are only 4 people who know about this lie, and not one of them is one who I had originally told it to. They were people who had never been lied to, and who were told the tale of this lie, and why I did it, and how I too believed it. When I talk to them about it, they assure and reassure me that it's nothing I need to go back and apologize for, because it didn't hurt anyone. I wasn't hiding a murder or secret family. The only person who was hurt from this situation was me, for all the guilt I am plagued with from it. I'm not sure I'll ever have the strength to go back to each person and admit that this tall tale was indeed just that.
On a lighter note, I can't say I entirely regret this lie either. Because I am filled with such guilt from lying to people so close to me, I can honestly say that nothing more than a little-white-lie has passed through these lips since then. And for that, I feel wonderful. I feel like I never want to lie again, and I feel like a better person for that. Luckily, my fiance is one of those 4 who does know about this lie, and I am thankful that he was there to listen when I talked to him about it, and didn't think any less of me for it. Infact, I believe it was one of the very first things I opened up to him about. I knew I liked him a lot, and I knew I wanted that clean-slate in this new relationship. I was open and honest with him from the start, when he still had the chance to run, and he's still here. So in some ways I am thankful for torturing myself this way, because I know that the one thing that will never plague my marriage is a lie, and all because of this terrible thing I said 4 years ago.
Years ago, I made up this incredible lie, for no reason at all. At first, it was just to myself; thinking of what could be different if this lie were true. And then to test those differences, I told someone this lie actually happened. The way I felt as I heard the untrue words spew from my mouth was empowering. And so, I would tell another person here and there, but never anyone too close to me, I couldn't do that. The more I talked about it, the more I thought about it, and the more elaborate it became in my head; I eventually even created a visual of what I imagined this lie would look like, feel like. And there, in my own head, I too, believed this lie to be true. The more I believed it, the more I felt compelled to talk about it, because just like any other real situation in life, you talk about things with people you are close to. And this eventually lead to me telling close friends and even some family members. If you gave me a lie detector test and asked me if this were true, I would have passed with flying colors. I had talked about it so much, I could actually SEE what I was talking about, I could feel the feelings I was describing. To me, this WAS real.
It wasn't until I had Lyla that I went back and thought about this lie. I was looking at her, brand new to this world; a clean slate. Free of anything bad in life. And all of a sudden, I woke up from this dream world I had been living in, and felt a great deal of guilt. To this day, there are only 4 people who know about this lie, and not one of them is one who I had originally told it to. They were people who had never been lied to, and who were told the tale of this lie, and why I did it, and how I too believed it. When I talk to them about it, they assure and reassure me that it's nothing I need to go back and apologize for, because it didn't hurt anyone. I wasn't hiding a murder or secret family. The only person who was hurt from this situation was me, for all the guilt I am plagued with from it. I'm not sure I'll ever have the strength to go back to each person and admit that this tall tale was indeed just that.
On a lighter note, I can't say I entirely regret this lie either. Because I am filled with such guilt from lying to people so close to me, I can honestly say that nothing more than a little-white-lie has passed through these lips since then. And for that, I feel wonderful. I feel like I never want to lie again, and I feel like a better person for that. Luckily, my fiance is one of those 4 who does know about this lie, and I am thankful that he was there to listen when I talked to him about it, and didn't think any less of me for it. Infact, I believe it was one of the very first things I opened up to him about. I knew I liked him a lot, and I knew I wanted that clean-slate in this new relationship. I was open and honest with him from the start, when he still had the chance to run, and he's still here. So in some ways I am thankful for torturing myself this way, because I know that the one thing that will never plague my marriage is a lie, and all because of this terrible thing I said 4 years ago.
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