Break up to Make Up

In an instant all that feels so right can be so wrong, and so wrong suddenly right once again. I have an evil, vile mouth. I won't deny it. I am all things sweet, pretty, kind, harmless. And yet I am salt in a wound, the bullet in a heart, the slice to your wrists if I feel feel I've been abused. I often don't like what I see when I look in the mirror. Many others see sweet, patient, loving, kind, giving, motherly, silly, pretty. Maybe what I see is the truth, maybe it is some strange distortion of reality. I am trying to negotiate the image that stares back at me, finding some semblance of hope, honesty, goodness. Who am I? Why don't I feel like I know these things.... Comfortable in my own skin. This is what I so desperately seek. And if I don't posess this, then how can I possibly be comfortable with another, love another, be whole with another. I betrayed my love by trying to end something I desperately didn't want to, by saying things I never meant and in doing so I betrayed myself. THAT is the ultimate betrayel. But in doing so I have grown. I learned something about myself this week. I'm a fuck up. And eternal fuck up. A fuck up on a massive scale who often is so emotionally incompetant that I often have no rational way of dealing with life's curve balls that I compensate with self-destruction. And sometimes, by hurting those I love the most. Cutting them off... or trying too...because I don't believe they love me enough.

But really, maybe its that I don't love myself enough, and in so, need others to feel that deep, deep chasm for me. And that's too big of a job for ANYONE to handle.

I learned this week what I want most in life, who I want most. I learned that I love another more than I can bare, but that I also love myself, alot. This was a desperate week, a week filled with tears, and vomit, and desperate angst, please forgive me's, why did I's, I'm so stupid's, and the complete inability to digest even the smallest of food. It was a death and a rebirth. I don't want anyone else in the world. I am sure of this. And I love myself. The good and the bad. And the bad sometimes can be really really bad. I know now that I need to work on this. And that's a good thing.

Like a flower, you need to water me......

Dear you,
I told you today that I was no longer in love with you. I lied. It was a hateful and horrible thing to say but in the moment it felt right. I looked beautiful today, gorgeous actually. I even took an hour to curl my hair -A task I meet with great disdain, yet indulged in just because you prefer it. I put on my new red summer dress with perfect match espadrills. You barely noticed. Just six months ago you would have twirled me around and said "Damn you look good." In my head I quietly muttered "You bastard." Yes, I'm craving attention. But just yours. Yours because it feels so right. You once adored me, played with me, couldn't keep your hands off me. Now, I'm like an accessory, something you occasionally try on.

I told you I'm like a flower, a plant. I need to be given water, sunshine... if you neglect me I will wilt. I told you this in the hopes that you would listen, take heed, take proper care and never neglect me. But I've been wilting for months. I don't believe your neglect is intentional. You are just in-fucking-capable. And for that I am sad. Your love is not in question. Nor your loyalty. I don't believe you are watering another flower. My instincts aren't leading me that way. You just don't get it. You think you've "Got" me. It's been nearly three years. You think we are "past" that. Don't get it twisted. You don't "Have" anything. You should always be working. Why would you ever take me for granted when I never you? I work day after day to remind you of how I feel, to remind you of your place in my life, my heart, my lust. I stroke your ego. Do you believe mine strokes itself? Do you believe when I wake up in the morning and feel like shit, and look in the mirror and think I've aged and gained, and there's someone younger and more anorexic chic, that I don't need a reassurance from you that I am still the apple of your fucking eye.

I will never believe that "years in" means "without said." F that. Say it loud, say it often. I shouldn't feel like I get more attention from strangers at the mall than from the man that supposedly loves and adores me. I don't need $300 sunglasses or expensive cars.....hold my hand, caress my arm, slide my hair back and sneak a kiss on my neck after dinner..... don't fucking talk on your cell while we're out in the middle of dinner. Make me feel like when we're on date night we are the only two people in the world that matter to you.

Today I told you I was no longer in love with you. I lied. It was a horrible and hurtful thing to say and I look back on it with deep regret. But with each passing day as we move forward I am trying to hold on to what was and not what is, because what is, is for me a memory. A memory of a time we once had, once filled with a priority above all, that priority being us. Never let it die. Never let it fade. Maybe this is where we diverge. Your air and my fire. Your logic and my passion. Your want for Honesty, Loyalty, Trust and mine for Madly, Truly, Deeply.

Catching Up.......

I've been neglecting my duties here at Perfectly Imperfect and for the 1.5 of you that actually care, I apologize. But things have been, well.... hectic.

My dad's hair is falling out and it's hurting him when he sleeps. This frustrates me. I just want to spend the next six months while he goes through this living with him. But for various reasons I can't. This frustrates me more. We can shoot people up into space and we still haven't found a cure for Cancer? To put it eloquently, this fucking sucks.

We joined the new gym. 24 Hour Fitness Shaq Sport. Which means we finally got to leave the meat market that was our old gym LA Fitness, Miami's answer to the perfect place to go to pretend to work out while secretly, (or not so secretly) your true mission is so scope out and pick up your next slutty mistress. You would walk into our gym and I swear, just touching a treadmill you could pick up chlamydia. The place was teaming with STD's. The sexual tension was palpable. So as soon as they opened the new 24 Hour Fitness we were OUT. And...... much to our liking, its open 24 hours! So I have actually been working out everyday, because since my day doesn't actually start until anywhere from 12-3pm, and usually ends at 4 or 5 am.... midnight is my perfect workout time. I'm in heaven. And the place is pristine. Reminds me MUCH more of my old New York Gym. Everyone is there for business, hardcore. No time for bullshit. No trying to look sexy, or flex muscles in the mirror, posing. Pshhhhh...So, I have 10 pounds I HAVE to lose and I am going to try to do it by working out and using the SOUTH BEACH DIET. Basically, for the first two weeks I comepletely have to cut out carbs from my diet. 100%. Even fruits. Supposedly, if I follow this strictly...eating only protein and proper fats for the first two weeks, I will immediately drop 8 pounds. This is called phase 1. Then after the two weeks I enter phase two, where I slowly reintroduce carbs back into my diet....slowly, and in small amount. Then in phase 3.. well, I haven't gotten there, but I like this diet because its not so much a diet as a new way of thinking about eating, its supposed to retrain your body to crave different foods. And since ALLLL I ever want are starchy carbs, ie: the FATTIEST of carby foods, I think this might suit me well. Anyway, wish me well on my fatass journey.

I went to see my Neurologist for my checkup and he has put me on a new Medication. Its called Lyrica. I love how they give these medicines these sing songy, nice names.... LYRICA. Like, wtf. Its a brain medicine that makes you tired, is for neuropathic nerve pain and helps control tremors and seizures. But I do not see where they decided there was anything Lyrical about it. These drug companies are getting smarter and smarter with the drugs.... I've gone from Dilantin to Tegratol to Keppra to Topomax to now LYRICA...... definitely the most inviting one out of the bunch.

I'm almost done reading my girl Stephanie Kleins new book "Straight Up and Dirty" , to alllll my girls out there, if you are looking for a great summer read go out and buy it, or order it. It's a hilarious, smart, easy read that will have you dying and crying.

You guys think you're suffering in New York. It's about 105 degree's down here EVERYDAY, and these fuckers in my complex drained the pool a week ago. The maintenance guy said, a pump broke and they haven't even called anyone to fix it yet! I called the maintenance office and this woman was like, "Ah, well, yeah, it will get fixed........ sometime." LADY, its 1000 freakin degree's out here. People need to go in a pool!!! Whatever. I'm just being bitter because I'm starting to get pasty and I need a tan and there's no way I can lay out without being able to dip in some water. I will melt.