Strange Days

Today has really been an odd mix of emotions. Happy, sassy, sad, nostalgic, guilty. Ended up with a little bit unsettled.

Last night I went to a 40th birthday party for a girl I graduated high school with. And I wore my "sassy girl" shoes...

And danced my feet off, and had a blast. It was like a mini-reunion of the D.E.C.A. Club! I missed the 20th high school reunion so it was absolutely awesome to see all these girls again.

Then I think I spent a little too long on Facebook. I happened upon a page that one of my classmates put up as a memorial to all the classmates who are no longer with us on this Earth. One in particular made me cry.

He and I were never friends. In fact, just the opposite. There were only harsh words between us. One night I got so angry that I said something particularly evil. And when he died our sophomore year, I felt tremendously guilty for having said it.

I went to his funeral. I seem to remember that the school gave anyone who wanted to go permission to miss classes. I think that the halls of HHS were probably deserted that day. I was sitting in the church that was packed to the rafters. Some days later, one of his best friends who knew the whole story, who had also chased me and my friends through the streets of our hometown, heard JR and I call each other every name in the book and who heard the very last thing I ever said to JR before he died - told me that my being there was one of the coolest things he'd ever seen.

So.

How do I make amends to those people I have harmed that are no longer on this Earth? It's taken me a while but I have learned that once hateful words are spoken, you CANNOT take them back. Once the damage is inflicted, the wound might heal but the scar will always be there. The only way to "fix" it is to not say it in the first place. All I can do is do better than I have in the past and live my life in a way that reflects that.

Living amends, my sponsor calls them. So, JR, if you are up there listening, I'm sorry for what I said to you that night so long ago. I've never said those words to anyone else since. Know that the people who knew you well and loved you still think about you often.

My Higher Power has been bringing many things and people back into my consciousness these days. I have an amends on my list that I did not think I would ever be able to make. And when I saw his name, I sent a friend request and a message. I told him that if he didn't respond, it was okay. I could understand why he wouldn't. But that I owe him some amends if he was willing to listen.

That friend request was accepted today. And that's a bit unsettling. I've been thinking about what I want to say. What I need to say. And how the HELL can I possibly say ANYTHING that would matter or that he would care to hear.

I will be consulting my sponsor on this one. And my Higher Power. I know that if I ask for His guidance, the words will come. What the person does with them is out of my control.

This Time of Year

I love Thanksgiving. I have so many good memories of family dinners. My dad comes from a family of ten kids so when we have family dinners, we have family dinners!

I remember one year my Grandma was having 21 people for dinner and only had ONE can of black olives. My cousin Jon took 10 of them (one for each finger) and had eaten half of them before anyone noticed.

I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for the Drunk Dialer and his dad and brother in a TINY one bedroom apartment with an oven about half the regulation size. (Yeah, I'm just that good!!)

There seems to be a lot of things triggering walks down memory lane lately. Most of them are things long forgotten. But good things. Bittersweet things about people who are no longer with me on this Earth. And funny things like the very first time I ever met my Former Supposed Spouse.

At Cocktails. (Some of you might remember Cocktails. Some of you might remember it as The Padded Cell. Or Shamrocks. Or the Havre Daily Lounge. Or maybe even all of the above. I remember Cocktails (and it's owner) quite fondly.) Anyway, on a Saturday afternoon, with a good buzz on both of us, the FSS looks me up and down and wants to know can he see my tits. So very charming, right?

What would have been our 7th "anniversary" is coming up on the 30th of this month. I have a lot of anger towards him right now. But there are lots of good memories too.

I'm not sure what's up with all the trips down memory lane. I'm going with the idea that it's because I'm turning 40 in ten days. And I'm sober. And I've rebuilt my faith in a Power Greater Than Myself. And I think that Higher Power is bringing things into my consciousness to show me where the wreckage is that needs to be cleared away.

It's like a "spoonful of sugar" thing. The good memories make the bad ones easier to take.

A Need To Purge The Memory(ies) - Good, Bad, Horrific, and Otherwise

As promised M, here's the back story on the Drunk Dialer.

A little background on me, first, I think. I was something of a late bloomer when it came to boys. First kiss was at 15, first REAL kiss was the summer before my Senior year and was a bit confusing. (Yes, there's a back story there, too, but that's one for another day. And no, it wasn't a girl, so keep your minds out of the gutter!! lol) I also lost my virginity the summer before my Senior year. It was literally with "the boy next door." Okay, the boy across the street and down a few houses. And yeah, he was the football star, and in the band, and choir and drama and and and ...... and I remember being so amazed that he "liked" me too. And, of course, there were complications. He was dating someone else. And one of my best good friends had a GINORMOUS crush on him. (LK from the bottom of my heart, I am so very sorry I did that to you. I wouldn't have done that to one of my girlfriends and so I don't know why I didn't know it wasn't okay to do that to you. This one falls in the horrific category.)

And so, immediately afterwards, I was branded a slut. And I guess I spent the next several years doing my damnedest to live up to that label. I think I accomplished that and then some. But, I digress.

The first time I set eyes upon my Drunk Dialer (DD), he was moving out of his house and divorcing his wife. The only reason I was there was because I was chasing after one of the guys (also married) that was helping D.D. move out. No idea who he was, didn't care, but I was a girl and I was there and someone identified me and so that was really all the psycho ex-wife needed to know to decide that I was REALLY after D.D.

A couple of weeks later, we were all at the Corner Bar and I noticed the D.D. noticing me. And he was kinda cute, in a goofy sort of way - tall, skinny, MaGoo glasses - but he had a great smile and a nice laugh and every muscle on him was rock hard. And we flirted a little. But I got run out of the bar by the one ass hole in the bar who gave a crap that I wasn't 21. And that was that.

Until one night a few weeks later. I'm out cruising (an activity that apparently no one engages in anymore - sad really. So many good times!!) and he's out cruising and we pass each other a few times and I wave and smile a few times and then he stops. And when I drove by again, he waved me over to stop and talk. And I did. And then we cruised together for a while and then......the psycho ex-wife spotted us together. And chased us and tried to run us off the road and ended up running her own car into the ditch.

Yeah. That should have been the only clue I needed to RUN in the OPPOSITE direction.

But no. Tell me I can't have something and I just want it all the more.

So we kept seeing each other. Kept sneakin' around. We spent many a hot summer night in the little attic room he had at his buddy's house. And by that fall we were living together. And I was head over heels in love with him. We both made promises that we ended up not keeping. And the psycho bitch made life a living hell for me.

Was it worth it? I don't know. I know he was my first TRUE, REAL, DEEP love and that never really goes away. I know I'm not the scared little girl I was 20 years ago. I know I've been through 20 years of crazy shit and that changes a person. I'm sober. And THAT is definitely different. I know I'm all stocked up on crazy these days and don't really need anymore. What good would it do to go back there? I think it would just fan the flames of the fire I'm already going down in.

Even still. Here I sit with my phone open, his number on the screen. All I need to do is push talk.