I Banish You Frustration Tears

The frustration inside builds until I either want to cry or I end up lashing out at someone, anyone, and it's never the person(s) that is/are the root of that frustration.  I'm trying to believe that not everyone is an asshole, and so when I let that teetering wall I own budge a little and let someone in, I let them in full force.  I mean, shit, why bother letting anyone in if you're not going to be 100%; all or nothing in my book.  There surely is no point in being half a friend or half a lover or half a shoulder to cry on.

I will never understand the way some human beings exist on this earth and continue to treat people the way they do.  I am not of the understanding of befriending someone to get something from them.  That idea is foreign to me.  I also don't understand at this time in my life how I am so naive in the workings of the human population and how I can get it so fucking wrong so many fucking times.

This is the definition of a friend:

1.  a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard;

2.  a person who gives assistance; a patron; supporter;

3.  a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile.

This really isn't all that hard of a feat to accomplish with people.  Why can't we all be so black and white insisting that you're either friend or foe.  In simplistic terms, grow up.  If you find yourself not falling into the above three with an individual, stop faking it.  Trust me, they won't mind if you go away because when you go away you take with you all the fake and fake is not anything I need in my days.

I don't wish for anything but contentment in my life.  It's already complicated enough with divorces and family bullshit and children's needs and work that I wish not to add the fake into the mix.  However, I'm a sucker and will give my heart to anyone who might need it.  I mean, it's big enough to offer up to those in need.  However, shame on you for taking advantage of the kindness I offer and that of many others that you treat in such a manner.

I'm going to try my fucking hardest to reclaim my wall that has been played with.  I wish I could say thank you to the handful of assholes that are roaming in and out of my days right now, but the harm you cause trickles down to the ones I love, and for that you disgust me.   When I look past you, please know that it's because I have written you out as you do not deserve the love and the trust you were one given so freely.  I'll be busy looking at those that hold my heart close to them looking to me for nothing but compassion and friendship.  I'll wipe my frustration tears away, but you can't wipe away the black ash that sits upon you weighing you down that only those you've betrayed can see.

Surrounded by Bad Asses

There are two things in my world that are very diverse; my music and my friends.  I don't really see how this is a bad thing.  I have well over 400 songs on my phone (which I need more of damnit) and I have quite a smaller number of friends (which I am very happy about damnit).  

I got to thinking about these two things this morning as the first text conversation I had today was rife with poop discussion.  That was one of the first smiles I had this morning.  How can one not smile and feel grateful when they wake up next to their best friend and have a bodily function kind of conversation with another all within a ten-minute time span.  

My music crosses all sorts of genres just as my friends do, and I'm positive that the one thing each and every friend of mine has in common is their sense of humor.  They all have a different level of humor, but it all comes down to one point:  they all "get" me and they all have a knack for making me laugh whether it's through tears I'm producing over some shit that happened or just a paragraph of profanities I just let slip out of my mouth because my mind was overwhelmed with too many sentence enhancers to hold in.  

I've got friends near and far.  I've got a best friend who, without a second thought, wields a knife through my house looking for an intruder simply because of a meowing cat at the window.  (That's a good story to share some day over drinks.)  I've got friends that I haven't met in person yet feel like they are my brothers and sisters.  I've got friends that I have finally met in person that felt like we just hung out the day prior.  I've got friends near that I don't see nearly enough, but when we get together it's as if days never stood between us.  I've got friends I see almost daily that always seem like a new story is made from our hangouts.  I've got friends that are stuck with me at work yet I'm not sick of them (and let's only hope they aren't sick of me in return).  I've got new friends that I've made recently, and while we aren't thisclose yet, it's evident they've got my back.  

Basically, what this girl has got is a pretty bad ass team of fucked up funny people around me, and you should definitely take that as a compliment.  You all hold a different past experience for being in my life, but the one constant is that you all are amazing souls who have my back in a heartbeat.  No fear, I won't have you battle to the death for me or any shit like that, but I do expect you to keep up with the funnies and the love and the kindness because even on my worst bitchiest and crankiest day, I promise to not forget what you have done for me simply because you cared enough to try to put a smile on my face.

My Maturity Level and Me ...

So Andrew and I were at his school's carnival yesterday, and I had the not-so-much-pleasure of seeing my ex-husband there.  I would like to believe that it's a step in the right direction that I didn't feel as though I wanted to murder him on the spot; I only wanted to puke all over his ugly ass sneakers.  Yeah, that's right, I said ugly ass sneakers.  I'm not above being a petty little bitch.  I couldn't stand his laugh or his smile or his stupid voice, and I really couldn't have been more overjoyed at his announcement of leaving the carnival.  However, this wasn't about me and my disgust and dislike of the man.  This was about Andrew and him being super excited to see his dad and play carnival games with his dad and go on rides and show off for his dad.

As much as I dislike the man I once called my husband, I do feel much happiness when Andrew's face lights up when he sees his dad.  There are plenty of kids that I know who don't have their dad around or who have a dad that only shows up when he feels like it or who only pays child support from time to time and has no desire to see his kid(s).  No matter the circumstances surrounding our divorce (it's mostly his fault though for sure) he is a good dad and for that I am grateful.  I love my boy more than I could ever put into words, those of you with boys can understand, and his happiness comes before mine.  

That's not to say, however, that I never have an overwhelming urge to stomp my feet and pout and cry whenever Andrew shows excitement from seeing his dad.  I'm only human, and I most definitely am a mom, and so help me God, if that man ever hurts him in any way, he will very much be afraid of me.  I still am saddened for the day when Andrew is older and can put two and two together, but I'm optimistic that when that day eventually comes I will have done a better job at raising him than I think I have been doing.  

In the meantime, I will continue to put my boy's well-being ahead of my own childish desires because he is worth so much more to me, and I am very grateful that he has a dad that is involved in his life.  That doesn't stop me and my immaturity from thinking he's a big jerk-face asshole with ugly sneakers and a smile I want to punch right off his stupid jerk head; the big dummy-face.  I would still love to take the ball I'm stomping home with and shove it up his ass, but I'll just smile and wave goodbye and take Andrew's hand in mine, give it a little squeeze and smile when he squeezes mine back.