wedDing Day

September 22nd was indeed a D Day. I, in no way, could have prepared myself for what happened, how it happened, or why.

The tears starting making their presence early Friday as I started getting a flood of "Hey....how are you holding up?" texts and emails. I also had to call Arlington National Cemetery to find out exactly where Chris was buried because I couldn't remember from the last time I was there. The man on the phone was very nice and I had to stop talking and clear my throat a few times to make sure I didn't lose it on the phone with him. Luckily I was successful and made it until I put the phone handset back on its cradle. "Ugh...", I thought, "this is going to be a fantastic day".

I made it through the rest of my work day dry-eyed so that was good. I also hung out with The Yankee for a bit and all I did was apologize for how weird I was being, haha. Before we left to go run some errands I must have changed my outfit six times, and God bless him, he didn't say a word. The whole evening he was very reassuring and calm. Haha, poor thing, he was probably panicking the whole time. At the end of the night he gave me a sweet kiss and told me to text him if I needed anything. I thought to myself "HA....you have no idea....".

I tossed and turned all night and woke up before my alarm at 7. The cemetery opens at 8 am every day so I wanted to get there as early as I could. I got up and fished out a gray sweater that I bought Chris last year that happens to also look pretty decent on me and wore it. It was his favorite. If you have access to any of my pictures or go to this blog you can see it because apparently it isn't tacky to have these pictures up still.........but I digress. I headed over to my parents' bar to get the champagne that my dad saved for our wedding. I wanted to bring just enough that he and I could have some together, the way it should have been. I popped the cork and poured it into a water bottle. I may or may not have also had a taste before it was re-corked.

On my way up I stopped at Starbucks and got a iced caramel machiato, another of Chris' favorites, because I imagined that he might have had one that day. And, you know, I felt good. I felt like this was going to be pretty cathartic and sweet in a way. I was also terrified and kept imagining me completely losing my shit at the grave. Well, neither of those things happened. I went to take the exit to the cemetery when I saw that there was a cop blocking the exit. I pulled up next to him and this is how our exchange went,

Me: Excuse me officer, may I ask you a question?
Cop: WHAT?!
Me: ......I'm trying to get to the cemetery....
Cop: Nope. It's closed for the next 3 hours because of a bike race.
Me: Are you kidding?
Cop: Does it look like I'm kidding?
Me: Okie dokie, fuck you too then!

And then I pulled back out into traffic. And I lost it. Completely. I was heartbroken, angry, embarrassed, horrified, frustrated, confused, exasperated, just too many feelings to name. I had no idea how to get myself turned around because I'm not familiar with that area and all I wanted to do was ram my car into the side wall. I didn't, so don't worry. But all I kept thinking was "How could this happen? I couldn't have him in life and I still can't have him in death?!" I also kept thinking that all I wanted to do was go home and set all of his clothes on fire, burn all the photos and just forget that I had ever met him. If I was to have absolutely no interaction with him at all, then so be it. I'd forget. I'm still really angry at him. I don't know who I'm angry with. I'm just angry.

I called my mom and basically yelled and sobbed the entire way home. I went back to the bar and got the rest of the Champagne so I could finish it for breakfast. I got home and you could tell that everyone was on eggshells. I felt bad because my stepmom had cooked a really great breakfast but I couldn't stomach anything but a few potatoes. I could feel myself getting antsy and losing it so I ran up to my room and screamed so hard into my pillow that eventually all that came out was air and sobs. I hate that I can't scream at him. He deserves to hear it.

I went back downstairs and hung out with my brothers for a bit. Them making me laugh and the champagne was making me feel better. We also started gathering our stuff together to go out on our boat. It was absolutely gorgeous day and my parents didn't want me sitting in the house. I didn't want to either.

The rest of the day was going great, I was successfully drunk by 1230 and the boat was so much fun! We decided to go to this local marina restaurant and as we're pulling in, I noticed everyone got kind of weird for a minute. And then I saw it- there was a wedding reception set up on the back deck. Paper wedding bell and everything.

And you know, I had to laugh. I can always appreciate irony and damn if this isn't ironic. All I needed was Alanis Morrissett to show up and sing about ten thousand spoons.

We finished our late lunch there and decided to ride out on the river for a bit and then head down to another local river bar. We had just ordered our drinks when I checked my phone and noticed that I had a comment. And then I saw this:

This is Chris' grandmother. Apparently she is okay with all of Chris' friends and family seeing things like this but apparently I'm not allowed to defend myself and my feelings. So, here ya go.

As soon as I read this I walked over to my parents and read it to them. My parents promptly asked for her telephone number so they could handle it. Now, I should backtrack and tell you that for the last few months, Chris' grandmother has been saying stuff like this to me through texts. She also wrote this long post on my FACEBOOK WALL a few months prior, which I promptly removed and then blocked her from doing so in the future. I have not lashed out at her, nor answered any of the crazy. But, I'm tired of hiding what she's saying. And she clearly wants everyone to know how terrible of a person I am. So, I'm sharing it with you. I'm also sharing with you that after I read this and gave them her number, I went into the bathroom and cried. A lot. I don't understand why this experience has to be so fucking terrible. Like, seriously. This is beyond ridiculous.

When my parents (tried) talked to her, all she did was blame me. Told them that I treat her absolutely horribly (again, haven't spoken to her since July 10th) and all this other delusional stuff. Oh, and the "secrets" that she's referring to? I guess she told my parents that Chris was still married. Yeah. I knew he was briefly married before but they officially divorced in 2009. No secret. But why would you EVER say that to me? Like seriously?!

I broke. I broke hard. My brothers had to see me in a way that they've never seen me before and I feel very guilty for that. And that is the only thing I feel guilty for in this situation.

I, in no way, feel guilty about anything that I have said or done while Chris was still living and after. I have been as honest, loving and human as I could be. I did everything I could for him and for us. I loved him and  took care of him. Obviously, some people can't handle that but that's not on my conscience. I can sleep at night.

I'm glad that day is dead and buried. I can start to really move on with my life. I know that holidays and his birthday will be hard this year but I don't have anything else looming in the future.

I'm still very angry. I'm not really sure when I'm going to stop but I know that one day I will. I have faith that one day I'll get my answer.

This is my life and I tell how it happens. I fight for what happens. I learn from what happens.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Hi all.

So, the day I was supposed to get married is quickly approaching. Saturday the 22nd. I'm not looking forward to it.

All I keep thinking is that day had so much potential, as did this month. This week was supposed to be filled with family, laughter, bridal stress, drinks, good food and copious amounts of excitement. But when the thoughts go too far I snap myself back because I can't afford to go that deep. I can't mourn for something that isn't going to happen before the deadline gets here. If that makes sense. Which I doubt it did, haha. I'm basically limiting my grief and sadness to Saturday. I say that, but, it has definitely made it's presence in bits and pieces this week. Monday I woke up in a funk, Tuesday I was fine all day until the afternoon and then I couldn't shake the sads. Fortunately, yesterday, I was fine all day. It's so weird, and I know I say that in every post but, seriously, grief is the oddest thing ever. Oh gosh, and all the "are you okay"s and "how are you holding up"s have started. While I appreciate them, I also get a little irritated. I'm not sure why. I guess because I don't really want to talk about it? Or I really am just trying to limit my pain to the day itself. Who knows? I sure don't.

Haha, side note: "At Last" by Etta James just started playing on my Pandora. And to start it, she says "Every time someone gets married they always ask 'Sing At last'". God I love poetic irony. *sigh*

At this point in my former wedding journey, the caterer still hasn't given us our money back ( they have $3500 of our money and spent it.), we still don't know if we're getting my money back for my dress (no one is letting me handling that so I have ZERO clue as to how that's going), and I have yet to hear from the photographer. Like, at all. Not even an "I'm sorry" or anything. Which, whatever, that's fine I guess. I just now have an extremely definitive list of who I will not be using when the time comes again. In fact, I think the only vendors I will be using again will be the videographer Shaking Hands Productions (seriously, they're amazing) and Sandals. That's it. Everyone else has been such an utter nightmare to work with and you'd think that with this kind of situation that everyone would be falling over themselves to make things easy. I mean, I plan on getting married again. Wouldn't you want my business? Wouldn't you want me to tell everyone I know about how wonderful you treated me through this time? But, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I learned a lot about people's true nature through this process.

I also told The Yankee about everything that happened to Chris and what was going on this weekend. It was understood what happened since he's friends with my brothers but he was never given the full story. I didn't want to tell him at the very beginning because I was worried that it would scare him away. I alluded to it, sure, because how could I not? But I kept things very vague. I even told him that I was spoken for this Saturday but I never told him why and, God bless him, he didn't ask. He's so wonderful in that way. He doesn't pry at all. He waits for me to volunteer the information and then we'll talk about it. But at the same time, I almost wish that he would ask. It's so much harder to just strike up that conversation and be like "Soooo.....like.....I was supposed to get married this coming Saturday. Isn't that weird?! Hahaha.....". I always laugh and make jokes when I'm uncomfortable. It's awful, haha. Given my mood swings though, I felt I had to let him know. Plus, I want to be honest with him. He's really great and patient and I really like him and he deserves to know. He deserves to know since this was such a large part of my life and he deserves to know what he's getting into and if he wants to jump ship or not. I needed to be fair. So, fair I was.

We went to dinner on Tuesday (another side note: "Dark Paradise" just came on. If you're not sure what I'm talking about, I posted the lyrics as a post here), and I had told him earlier in the day that I was in a funk. So, I thanked him for getting me out of it. And just as I needed him to, he asked why I was in one. I started by explaining what Saturday meant and went from there. His face wore such a heartbroken expression the entire time and all he could say was "wow" and "I'm so sorry....". All I did was what I always do; smile and shrug as if to say "what can you do?". Then after we moved on from that topic, I was a ball of nerves and all I kept saying was "I totally understand if this is too much for you and you don't want to continue this anymore" and blah blah blah. Finally he stopped me and was like, "I don't know what you're talking about". I said, "I'm giving you an out if you would like one". To which he replied, "Stop. I don't want an out. I don't need an out. I am here for you. And if it would make you feel better, I can tell you sad stories that might make you not want to see me anymore". I told him that wasn't necessary since we had enough depressing conversation that evening. He really is so sweet.

So, Saturday. It's coming. I'm prepared as I'm gonna be. And I'll have our $150 bottle of champagne to help with the sad.

It's supposed to be sunny and 86 degrees. At least we were going to have nice weather....

Hello, My Name is Rachel...

...and my life is a romantic comedy. For real, I feel like I am Sandra Bullock in real life. And yes I realize that she is a real person but you know what I mean.

But, guys, I did it. I went on my first date. The friend that I alluded to on my last post is awesome. Not to be a copy of Ms. Bradshaw, but, I'm going to call him The Yankee. He's from New York and a Yankees fan so it totally works.

My family has a HUGE Labor Day party every year and my brother invited The Yankee. Me, J and L were sitting inside talking and getting away from the heat when they came upstairs. You could tell that The Yankee was nervous but introductions were made and approval was given. I was intrigued. J and L kept trying to get me to go strike up conversation with him but I was really nervous. I tried to get closer to where he was standing but would only do so when J and L were with me. Well, wouldn't you know it, they walked away from me, leaving me all by my lonesome, haha. So, I decided to park my ass on a cooler and just wait it out. Then the opportunity arose and The Yankee needed a beer. So, being the helpful pseudo hostess that I was, I asked if he needed a beer. He said yes and it turns out that the cooler where I parked was his cooler. Convenient? Cut to 3 hours and 4 strong drinks later, I'm miss social butterfly and spy just the conversation piece I needed to get things started. It worked, he was hooked, I was drunk and flirty and I may or may not have spilled red wine all over my pants. All was right with the world and we made plans to hang out that Monday.

Monday rolls along and I was getting SUPER nervous. L and I stayed up until about 11:30 the night before trying to pick out the perfect first date outfit. We settled on this really pretty, flowy dress and high heels. I had asked The Yankee earlier in the day for a clue as to where we were going and all he said was either French or Italian. So, in my mind, I thought "Somewhere nice that isn't around here". Points already.

I spent a good 2 hours on getting myself together and I gotta say, I looked goooooood. Especially for how nervous and excited I was, haha. I go to make my grand entrance into the living room in front of everyone and I see that The Yankee is wearing a white t-shirt, jeans and sperrys. I was SEVERELY overdressed, which I announced once I walked into the room which sent everyone into a fit of laughter. So guess who had to run upstairs and change......this girl. So, I ran upstairs and got it done in 5 minutes while in a panic. Good to know this was getting off to a great start.

We had a pretty good conversation in the car and I was really looking forward to going to a restaurant that wasn't a chain restaurant and that wasn't in the immediate area. We parked and walked a few blocks to get to the Italian restaurant that he picked, all the while he explained why he picked it and telling me how great the place was. Well, we get to the restaurant and it's closed. I'm talking chairs stacked, no lights, all doors locked kind of closed. The Yankee was like "OMG! They never close! This sucks!" I told him not to worry about it but I had to laugh. So we got back in the  truck and drive a few blocks to the French Place. He manages to parallel park his HUGE truck on the TINY street (points again) and we start the walk. Well, we get to the restaurant and it's closed. I shit you not, it was closed. I laughed SO hard but The Yankee was really embarrassed. I reassured him it was fine but that he had to pick a third place because I was starving, haha.

The third place he took me to was this little trattoria which actually turned out to be really good. Our waitress was really cute and kept telling us stories about her life (you could tell she was still new the job because she didn't hate her life, haha) and kept commenting on what we ordered, WHICH WAS DELICIOUS! Again, all was right in the world.

Once the date starting winding down I started getting really nervous about the end. Ya know how at the end of "Cinderella" she turns back into a tattered mess? Yeah, that's me except I turn into a bumbling, giggling idiot who uses sound effects for words. But, The Yankee handled it and just told me how great a time he had and asked to walk me to the door. "This is it...." I thought. "He's totally going to kiss me. Omg what if my breath is bad? What if he is a bad kisser? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY BUGS ON OUR DOOR?!" Panicked. We get to the bug-covered door, I turn around he he's standing on the last step not really saying anything so I squeak out "Hug?" and make some stupid arm gesture. He obliges and then tells me to have a good night and walks back to the truck.


That's it.

I gotta tell ya, I was confused. This has never happened to me before. I ALWAYS got kissed on the first date. But, I liked it. And I didn't. It just really threw me for a loop. Then I got the text, "I had an amazing time with you tonight and I really would like to see you again soon". BOOSTED! Cue touchdown dance in the pjs in my room.

I don't know guys, this one might be interesting......

Timelines

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack! I apologize for the long hiatus. It's been a bit bonkers since I've returned from Disney.

Speaking of, Disney was AWESOME! I had such a blast the entire week and I'm exhausted, haha. I think I need another vacation just to rest from this one. I'll have to do a separate post to fill you in on all the details and pictures because I don't want to put your eyeballs through a marathon.

One thing that has me thinking lately is timelines. Everyone has one for themselves for pretty much any situation in their life. I feel like all I'm doing is examining my timelines and, moreover, focusing on what other people think of my timeline. Which I know is totally stupid but I can't help it.

In one of my recent posts I told you guys that I had removed my relationship status from my Facebook and how hard that was but that I was glad I did it. And one of the hardest parts about it was how I thought other people might perceive what I was doing and what that removal meant. I still think about it but I still don't feel bad about it. But, the next step in my timeline that is causing a HUGE head-scratching, thought overload is dating.

I've kind of made advances to "get back in the saddle" but nothing too major. They've been hilarious and, I hate to do this to you, unfortunately I can't share just yet. They were exciting and unfamiliar and still kind of sad. There are times when I feel guilty and then I end up just having a fight between me and a picture of Chris and telling him he can't be mad at me because he's the one that did this to me. *Sigh* It's hell being crazy, haha. And a large part of me is mad at him for this. I LOATHE dating. I hate the rules, I hate the games, I just hate all of it. I don't want to have to do it again. I mean, I found HIM; I found my Mr. Right. Sooooo, why am I back in the dating pool?! And that's when the thoughts of the timeline come busting through my brain. I'm I doing this too early? How long should I give myself? Why should I have to wait 6 months to a year and be alone and hate all the couples?

Recently a friend of my brother's told him that he wants to be introduced to me and take me out on a date. Now, I gotta tell ya, my ego is like "EFFIN RIGHT! THIS OLD DOG'S STILL GOT IT!". And I'm excited and nervous and just a big ball of "QWLEI5UQ3OV FJHAIUEY249983Y@#$#$#%qvM  IOAYEI U". Now, because I'm a girl and a total headcase (..........I really do not sell myself very well here), the future thoughts are already happening. But not in the sense of "When we get married....", it's more the sense of "What if he asks me to take Chris' pictures down? That totally won't happen. What will I do with Chris' clothes? Can I not get my remembrance tattoo now? Is it too soon to date?". Guys, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?! This is so stupid. I know it is. And I tell myself not to do it because I haven't even had a conversation with this guy yet! Who knows if I will even like him? But I can't help it because we're all told that we have to have a plan or some idea of our timeline.

I guess the thing I'm worried about most is that people will think Chris didn't mean anything to me. That I'm some heartless, glib asshole who was only after him for some specific reason. But I'm not. He was my everything and I will grieve for what we had for as long as I live. It might not be as intense at times, but, it will still be there. Our hearts, I think anyway, are big enough for more than one person. The part that belongs to Chris will always belong to him and who I was with him will always belong to him. But I also belong to me (hey there Jessica Simpson reference) and I choose when and how I'm ready. No one is an expert at what I'm going through and I don't know what I'm doing. I won't know what I'm doing until I do it and then I'll go from there. For example, if I happen to start crying while kissing someone because a song of mine and Chris' comes on (....this may or may not have happened.....) then I'll deal. And if someone has something smart to say, well, then they can go play with a big 'ol bag of dicks. HOW 'BOUT THAT?!!

YOU JUST WON THE SHITTIEST HAND OF LIFE EVER! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW?!

I AM GOING TO MUTHA EFFING DISNEY WORLD!

That's what.

For realsies! I leave for the Land of Mouse on Monday and don't come back until the 26th. Which just so happens to be my 26th birthday! Woot!

One of my very best friends, W, lives in Orlando and he is being an awesome/wonderful/fantastic/marvelous friend and taking me to Disney for my very first time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fyi, a lot of this post is going to be in caps and followed by a series of exclamation points. Because I am THAT excited. You don't even understand....


Given that this is my golden birthday (26 on the 26th) and because this summer has just been complete and utter shit, I wanted to give myself a little gift and carpe the fuck out of the diem. So, for me, that meant Disney. I've been wanting to go there FOR-EV-VER and it's been a while since I've gone to Orlando. I miss my Florida peeps. AND I GET TO MEET MICKEY MOUSE AND ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL THE PRINCESSES! Did I mention I'm actually 25 going on 6?

I have this irrational idea that I'm going to make friends with all of the princesses, given they're all probably around my age, and we'll hang out and get drunk together and then they'll give me a job. I would be Belle SO HARD. Haha I can feel your judgment. And you're not wrong because I totally judge me, haha.

It's going to be so nice to get away, though. I keep feeling that way any time I go away. No one knows me, no one knows my situation, they're just going to look at me and think "Wow, that young woman is really enjoying herself with her sequined Minnie Mouse ears". Do you have any idea how refreshing that will be? I hate going out where I live. I feel like everyone knows who I am and they're all staring and pitying me. That's probably not what's happening but I can't help but feel that way.

So, off to the land of wishing and dreams coming true. Hopefully I'll come back with tons of stories and a new job! Hey, a girl can dream right?

You Cannot Be Extinguished

I've been working on that, as of late. Hence my blogging absence :-)

A dear friend told me that some time after all the crazy happened and it is something that has stayed with me constantly. I cannot be extinguished. I will not be extinguished.

Things have been busy because I've needed them to be that way. I actually can't remember the last time I was so busy, haha. What can I say? I enjoy being a couch potato. But I've made some steps in the midst of being busy. Some big and some small. The first being that I removed my relationship status on Facebook. That actually took a fair amount of convincing from my friends. I had been wanting to do it for about a week prior but was afraid to do it because I was afraid of how it would look to other people. There has been so much metaphorical mud thrown my way these past months that I didn't want to add to the ammo. I felt like "they" would think it was too early for me to be doing that and that I wanted to look single and that I didn't care about Chris (which couldn't be further from the truth). But it felt like, to me, that I was holding vigil for something that won't happen. That can't happen. I'm not engaged anymore. I haven't been engaged since his heart stopped. I don't want to be un-engaged, trust me. I don't want to wave my single flag. But, it had to happen. 

I did it. And I cried when I did it. Not a full on boo-hoo but some tears were shed. It was a sad moment. But I felt good and it felt right.

I also stopped wearing my engagement ring. I love it SO much and it's the most beautiful thing I have ever owned but I just couldn't do it anymore. I actually started resenting it. I thought that I might cherish it more after all this but every time I stared at it I got angry. It felt like it represented a broken promise. Even a lie, perhaps? And I know that it's not, but, I can't help but feel that way. He wasn't supposed to die. He promised that he'd be careful. But he's gone. BOOM: Promise broken.

And I tell you what, the human body is SO interesting. The way it reacts to emotional pain and stress is wild. I know this is going to sound odd, but, my body started physically rejecting my ring. I think when I subconsciously decided I needed to take this step, my body was like "Totes ready to go, dude". The ring started feeling too big and cumbersome and actually started irritating my finger. So it was somewhat of a relief to take it off. I still absentmindedly rub my ring finger, especially when I'm sad, but I feel better. And it's still there when I need it. Like Friday night.

I am an emotional cutter and a SEVERE glutton for punishment. I don't know why I do it to myself, but I do. I was flipping channels Friday night and I happened to come across "PS, I Love You". Now, I don't like this movie. I'm probably the ONLY person who feels this way but I hated it the first time I watched it a few years ago and have hated it ever since. I clearly knew what I was getting into but I did it. And I cried. Boy did I cry. The majority of it was probably because I was hurting but I have a feeling some tears were shed because the movie is JUST SO BAD. I'm sorry, but who on earth would buy her dumb ass shoes? This isn't 1776 and we don't need jacquard kitten-heeled, pointy-toed shoes. But I did get a good laugh in when Gina Gershon was doing Hilary Swank's nails. An homage to her "Showgirls" days perhaps? Now, where did I leave my potato chips......

The night ended with my face swollen and red and really the only thing that helped was putting my ring on and going to sleep. I know it's there when I need it and I can pretend that I'm back in my happy period. Even if it is only so I can fall asleep.

Things are good. Not great, but good. I feel more like myself every day even if I do have some bad days. I still miss him like crazy. I still wish he was here. I still sleep with one of his dirty t-shirts wrapped around my pillow. But, my inner pilot light is still burning.

I cannot be extinguished. 

Truth

I love Post Secret.