The Elusive Happiness

Today was supposed to be an awesome day. It was GOING to be an awesome day.

But no.

I swear, I think that in order for me to have awesome days I must avoid people AT ALL COSTS. Because there’s some sort of globally broadcasted message that when I am having a good day, someone needs to come along and ruin it.

Even if they probably didn’t intend on ruining it, they do. They burden me with problems I can’t fix and they don’t respond to any moves I make to cheer them up.

I’m not going to be vague about this. Sometimes, The Yankee makes me want to choke him. Why can’t he be happy? He has so fucking much to be thankful for and all he EVER focuses on are the things he can’t control or the things that got messed up. Yeah, things get me down A LOT—I understand perfectly how it feels. But I don’t DWELL on it! I move on! Yeah, it really sucked that I was homeless in Finland with no money for weeks and I was in the middle of a divorce. But I managed. I just remembered the things I DID have—friends that cared about me and my babies.

Just when things start looking better, he has to come in and muck it all up. Why? Does he LIKE being miserable? Is he really that incapable of seeing the positive in ANYTHING?

I really like him, but it’s days like this he just makes me sad and I feel like there’s nothing I can do for him and so I should leave. Apparently I don’t assist his happiness. I’m not saying I should make him happy, but I am saying I don’t know if I can be with someone who can’t see the good in ANYTHING—who can’t even be a small, meagre amount of happy when I’m honestly trying my damndest to cheer him up. Maybe he can, maybe he can’t. I honestly don’t know because all I ever get to see is someone who can only see the negative side of matters.

And with that thought, I’m going to bed.

Fear and Loathing in Louisiana

Sometimes, I just want to give in.

I can’t possibly do everything. I can’t make everyone happy. I feel so worthless sometimes. I feel like I should be the perfect person and I can’t be—it makes me feel very inadequate.

I saw a postcard once in PostSecrets that said something along the lines of, “I feel pretty until I step outside.” That’s me.

I think for years I’ve given off the aura that I’m a strong person. I’m not. I’m really, really not. I’m so fragile on the inside it’s unbelievable. It’s really the little things that break me, though. Those tiny little actions that wear away my foundation.

I always seem to let people hurt me. I brush it off, say it’s okay, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” I’m not. I hold onto things forever. I’m always going to remember that The Finn doesn’t love me anymore, that The Yankee just doesn’t think I’m quite attractive enough for him. Even if the words are taken back eventually, it’s not the same. I can’t help but think every time he looks at me or touches me, “Does he still feel that way?”

I fight demons of self-loathing every day and it makes me so tired.

Why can’t I be the person I want to be?

People ask me if I’m excited to go back to school. I say no, I say I feel indifferent.

I lied.

I’m terrified.

I’m not discontinued.

It’s amazing the things I will raise hell about and the things I won’t, the things that I can ignore and the things that will ruin my day (or week) completely.

Around Thursday of last week, my favourite lipstick came up missing. When this usually happens, I heave a big sigh and just go buy another tube. But this lipstick is special: it’s discontinued. That word can strike fear into the heart of any women. It’s a word that can cause riots. But yes. My utmost favourite lipstick, Aveda’s Lip Satin lipstick in Red Ore, has been discontinued. It’s been so for a while now. Those bastards also discontinued my favourite perfume! Anyway. This tiny tube of colour is special. It matches my lips and skin tone perfectly. Just a tiny, tiny covering gives so much colour and the smell is pleasantly minty.

And it was lost. LOST!

I felt somewhat naked this entire weekend without it. I had looked everywhere for it to no avail—except the one place all women should probably THOROUGHLY search when something is lost. Yes, you know where I’m taking about … THE PURSE. I didn’t empty out my purse and so assumed it wasn’t in there, but today at work I emptied my purse ENTIRELY and there it was, at the very bottom.

It felt like being reunited with a very old friend.

I still have a good three inches of lipstick left to her. I’m hoping she’ll last me for many years to come.

In other non-lipstick related news, I start school tomorrow. I am not excited. The Yankee sent me flowers at work, which was a nice surprise and made me happy. I asked him if he had looked up the meaning of giving a woman irises and red tulips and of course he said no. Then he said he didn’t disagree with any of it and I could just chew on that. Well, I won’t. I don’t need the L-word muddying up my non-L-related relationship.

I still think he doesn’t quite know what he wants, but I don’t know how I feel about that, either. I should probably make some sort of decision of how “this is going to be”, but I don’t feel like doing that right now. It’s simply in my nature to play things by ear and pounce when no one is looking and least expects it.