i hate admitting when i am wrong

but i was wrong. i made a post before about the man being not wonderful for me. just wonderful. i was wrong.

he is perfect for me and i was just too pigheaded to admit it to myself or to him. i want him back in the worst way, and let me just say i am never in a position such as this. ever. but i am. and for the first time in my life i have thrown all of my emotions ( you know, the ones i force down all of the time) on the table. i hope it isn't too late. i know i hurt him so badly.

i am stressed to a point almost unhealthy as i am afraid that the damage was to great. but i know my love is so strong. i pray that his is too. i pray for healing of our hearts and souls and building our relationship back to the beautiful place i know it can be and where it was.

i can barely write in fear of this not coming true. i can barely breathe until i know it will come true. things have changed, i know, but i think for the better i think we have both learned and grown and can enjoy each other without the stress of living together. i hope. i pray.

i feel like every sappy copeland song is about him, and american nightmare has got it all figured out.

i love him. i really do. so much, with my entire heart. i can't believe i let him go. i feel so utterly idiotic.

remember to breathe. remember to breathe. remember to breathe.

constantly reminding myself to not shut down my emotions, that he is worth being vulnerable for. he is worth being hurt over.

remember to breathe.

i am going to LA

tomorrow. to see an old love. hoping for a rekindling. perhaps, i was wrong in my previous post. i think he is wonderful for me, yet i was dealing with so much of my own drama that i was unable to see him for what he is. i miss him often. i miss him always. i hope he wants to be with me. so badly. i guess we will see how tomorrow goes. and the day after... and the day after that.

remember to breathe.

i always wanted

a job where i wore a suit each day. now that i have it, i am seriously reconsidering my desire for such a heinous outfit, day in, day out. i thought with a suit came power, with power came money, and with money, came happiness. i was wrong.

although happiness is something that ought to be striven for, it is something that is difficult to quantify. happiness to you is most certainly different than happiness to me. yesterday i took a piece of paper and wrote down everything that made me happy. it read something like this.

* rhys laughing
* dancing
* baking
* my friends

my list stopped there. i don't have friends like i did in arizona, and perhaps i will never have friends like that again. i have about 3 friends out here i can call who will pick up their phone at any time. this hurts my heart, but is a sad reality of my existence in california. rhys laughs frequently, screams only sometimes, and is all around an amazing child. i am lucky. dance is dance is dance is. i love it so much that that is all i want to do ( outside of hanging out with rhys), although it is good i have such a ferocious passion for it that it has become borderline unhealthy ( in terms of my obsessiveness with it). baking is fabulous but can lead to the expansion of my waistline that is less than.

although currently i am 5 pounds away from my pre-baby weight ( 115), i am still struggling to see the "in shape" or "thin" person that i know everyone else sees. i don't know when i began have such a dysmorphic image of myself. when i look in the mirror i see a fat girl. a huge girl. when i step on the scale i want to lose more. i think, truthfully, i will never be skinny enough, for me, but for my health i know i need to keep my weight loss/exercise fanaticism under control as it is dangerous for me to see myself as being any less than how i know i am, in shape and beautiful.

i miss my friends back home. i feel forgotten about often. i hate feeling forgotten/blown off/ etc. it makes me sad. i am sad often, but i try to be happy more often than i am sad. i am afraid of being judged for being myself, constantly. i have always been different, when i was younger i was cast out for it, now i am older i feel like an outcast, just in a different way.

this entry feels depressing, but i suppose it echoes the reality of my current existence. things will look up, but i need to find more things to put on my "happy" list, because four will never cut it.

lunch at home.

As per usual these days. I am not certain if this is a depressing action or an "adult" decision. I mean, after all, it is more fiscally beneficial to me to go home and eat/not eat and read emails, etc. However, sitting alone on my bed with my lap top in its name given place, I begin to think about all of the things that I am able to push out of my mind on a day to day basis.

I always hear that I am scary successful. I am not certain what that means, but from what I can it means that I frighten men off with my career. Lovely. My daughter asked me for a family for Christmas. Which we have, me, her, my roomate and our house dog, oscar the dog. Of course my Mother is an ever present fixture in our lives, yet only when she can, and the drives from Arizona she makes bimonthly must be killing her. Yet she makes them anyways.

My Mother turns 60 in 2010. I am terrified that one day she will die. This sounds morbid, I know, but I have come to realize that I don't need a relationship with any men because my love for my Mother would outreach any love I could have for a man that will, inevitably, fuck up and treat me like shit. She has become so much more than a Mother since I have had my daughter. Perhaps this is the typical evolution of the Mom-Daughter bond. In High School I never understood her rules and her mantras. I never understood why I could not have designer jeans and everything I wanted. I get it now. I get it all. My mother begged me to never get tattooed. Of course, 1 month after turning 18 I ignored her completely, and got my legs tattooed. Of course I ignored her. And of course, 6 years later I wear tights every day of my life under my suits. I wish I didn't have to, and one day I will ask, for Christmas, for those tattoos to be removed. Full circle, like a child, begging to be fixed for the mistake I knowingly made.

Not that there is anything wrong with tattoos, because I feel like they are beautiful and I love all of mine. ( Some she still has never seen.... and it will be kept like that for all eternity), I just wish I would have chosen better places to be initially rebellious.

I dance a lot now. Like every day. My goal is to be a proam competitive ballroom dancer within the next two years. I know I can do it. I was just given the opportunity to train with a man who has not picked up a new student in 3 years. He asked me to be his student, and I must say I am proud of myself. I like to be good at things. Don't we all? I just like to be the best. Because if I am not number one I truly feel like I have failed.

I should work on that. That is probably ( yet another one) of my relationship hindrances.

Goals for 2k10 ( to date)

Be a better mommy, every day.
Bronze 1-3 in my dances.
Get promoted.
Smile more, laugh more.
Date a man worth my time, and recognize ( immediately) when he is not.
Finish my house

That's all, for now.

Also, side note: The boy I moved out to Redlands for was wonderful, just not wonderful for me. In case there is any confusion. I ruined that by being me. Like I always do.

I missed the boat a bit...

So, I have realized that I am, as usual a little late jumping on the boat of blogging. I have the sneaking suspicion that live journal was so 2003, and was laid to rest amongst the great networking sites: make out club, friendster, and lipstick party.

A lot has changed here, a lot has stayed the same, and I have yet to actually write anywhere what is really going on. I think that's what happens as we grow. We only tell me people what we want them to know, because. The truth gets sticky. I love it here and I hate it here. I love the situation I am in, yet hate it more than anything. Its like the love hate relationship I hear that siblings have, but I guess I would never know.

I have arrived head first in the business world, and I am loving every minute of it. Suddenly I am pursuing an MBA, and head first in to corporate America I have dove. I want to be the CEO of a fortune 500 company one day. Before I am 40. So I have 15 years to get there. And I will.

I just bought my first house. Well... condo, but this is a nice part of Southern California, and a single family home wasn't within my DSR range.

Rhys is doing super well, and she is just the sweetest little thing that anyone has ever laid eyes on. She is spectacular, so intelligent, and ultra compassionate. For those who have never met her, you are truly missing out.