On Hating the Person You Love

I’m just going to come out and say it: I don’t like Tim today. I don’t know why.

Part of me wants to hash out to you guys every little thing he’s done today that’s made me boiling mad or caused me to cry until I don’t really know why I’m crying anymore, but that’s not fair to not only him, but also to our relationship as well. And, if I’m being honest with myself, he hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m just feeling overly emotional and, well, bitchy.

But even I start to rethink everything in these small moments of rage. Yes, I know, “Perfect Mary Ann who always seems to have clear and concise thoughts gets… irrational? Absurd! I don’t believe it.”

Believe it, folks. I’m as irrational as they get. It’s gonna be a fun ride with me. And I hope that is why you’re sticking around.

But anyway, whether it is me feeling like he just hasn’t said the right thing or being pretty clingy, or he actually is at fault, not liking the person you love is okay sometimes. Maybe even healthy.

Like I said, I have irrational thoughts a lot of the time, especially when I’m lowkey mad at Tim. But the point is that I never act on them. I step away. I cool off. And then I remember that no matter how much I don’t like him right now, he’s the first person I want to start my day with and the last person I want to end it with. Besides Maggie, of course.

Not liking the one you love the most is healthy because it shows that sometimes it rains, that no relationship is perfect. That you can never take anything for granted. And that’s what I was doing. I was taking him for granted. All the love he gives to me, all the days he spends with me, all the time he invests in me. I treated it like oxygen and water and sleep. I should’ve treated it like food, the most delicious kind–still necessary to live and thrive, but never infinite, never always there, never obtainable all the time.

Tim tells me time and time again that he would do anything for me, and I know he would. And I’m proud to say that, although I’ve taken the “I love you”s and “good morning baby”s for granted, I haven’t taken that side of him, that hero/caretaker/in-love-with-me-for-god-knows-why side for granted. Because I feel down a lot. I do. I overthink and I get the blues just like anybody else. I miss him extra. And I know that if I texted him, “please, please, please come over. I need you so badly right now,” he would in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t even be a question. But that’s not fair. You only get so many of those in your life, and you shouldn’t use them up unless you really need them.

And, mostly, you need to learn how to take care of yourself. I’m glad that I can. I’m glad that I have books and TV shows and THIS FREAKING BLOG to separate my heart and head or just let my heart spill out. So do that for yourself. And, once that’s done, once you really can take care of yourself, it’s okay to let somebody else help. I didn’t know that until him.

So, Tim, I’m sorry for hating you today, but, mostly, I’m sorry you picked somebody as odd as me to love.


*disclaimer* I’m not sure how this post comes across yet, I won’t know that for a few days. But if it seems at all like I’m this crazy, overly attached girlfriend, know that’s because for a few hours today I was. That’s what being overly emotional is. But, all in all, I’d like to say I’m fair, that I treat him right, because, by god, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be with him now. He deserves all there is in this world, and I intend to give it to him, just like he intends to give it to me. AND THEN WE HAVE DOUBLE THE WORLD. Woah. Love is some crazy shit, guys.


Nothing is Permanent

At least, not if you don’t want it to be.

Not even tattoos.

I think we get so caught up in what we might look like to other people, how something will impact our future, what we should hold back on to wait out for something better.

The only permanent things are deaths, drugs, and felonies. Don’t do those. The rest is honestly up to you.

Cut your hair. It will grow back. Get a tattoo. Regret it and then get it removed. Break up with him if he doesn’t make you happy. If it’s meant to be you’ll get back together, if not, you’ll find somebody better for you.

You can always go back to school if you feel like it isn’t for you right now, you can always start school even if you’re scared.

Start writing a book. You can always stop if it isn’t going the way you planned.

Eat one piece of chocolate cake. It won’t kill you.

The only things you shouldn’t do are things that become an addiction, things that ultimately change who YOU are INSIDE. Like, too much alcohol, too many relationships, too many pieces of chocolate cake. Does any of that make sense?

I guess what I’m saying is that you don’t have to be afraid to do anything. It’s okay to let go of things and it’s okay to switch your life when you need to. I know you’re terrified of losing losing people. But the people who love you, the people you can really call home (more on them next time), they’ll be there when you get back from wherever you’re going.

I was a paper doll for way too long. Dont be that way anyway. Let anyone and everyone paint you blue, purple, gray, green, and grey skies.

It is okay.

On Divorce.

I’m not going to act like I know anything about what it’s like to get divorced. Heck, I don’t even really know what it’s like to have a long term relationship, let alone marriage.

But I am a child of divorce. And if you’re in that same boat, because I doubt anybody reading this is married with kids or divorced, unless you’re my mom, then I want you to know before I get into this that I am with you. 100% of the time. And if you’re not in that same boat but, for some reason, want to read further, know that every situation is different. Some people have it way worse, some way better.

Anyway, enough with the disclaimer.

Being a child of divorce is probably the hardest thing a kid has to go through. It is a constantly battle of tug-o-war, where you’re not on the losing or winning team, you’re just the rope. Unlike so many of your friends whose parents chose to stick it out, you see the heartbreak, the tears, the fights, the lawyers and courtrooms, the too much drinking, the police lights. You see everything, more than a kid should see. But the worst thing is that you see your parent, the man or woman caped in red for so long, dwindle down to this thing we call human. That’s the scariest part.

So, through all of that and after that, we learn to understand. We become adults for ourselves. Without them knowing it, we become the maids that sweep up our parents’ broken pieces. We glue them together to form a glass case around our own hearts.

And then we get older, stronger, smarter–we get better. And all of the sudden, we don’t want to understand. So we don’t. We let go of all of the bad and kind of just brush it off, act like maybe it didn’t change us at all, act like we don’t know why the shambled wall in our chest is even there to begin with.

Then life goes on. And it’s great. But we stop believing in a real type of love, in a real type of marriage. Again, I’m not going to sit here and act like I know all there is to know about those two things. I don’t. I’m nineteen and all of my serious relationships were eight months long. The relationship I am in now is wonderful and strong, but still new.

But, recently, not because of any boy or romance I experienced, I realized that this whole divorce thing is a lot harder than we thought. And we all already thought it was a battlefield. ‘

Dan Layus, former front man of Augustana, put out his first solo song called “Driveway.” Listen to it now before I go on.

Basically, the song is about this man and woman in the beginnings of a divorce. I don’t think I knew how hard it was for my parents to just walk away, maybe because I thought the only hard part was the aftermath.

In this song, it seems to me they both knew it was over. That the only thing either one of them couldn’t leave was this life they built together. In every article on marriage I’ve ever read it talks about how love isn’t the only part of marriage, how that life is sometimes the only reason you stay. But, I think, that if it were that simple, these people who once vowed their lives together could figure out a way to stick it out for a few years. These nauce articles act like people actually want to get divorced. Like, it was the easier way out. Now, I’m not so sure that’s true.

I don’t think my parents wanted to leave each other, to split their assets, to fight over me and my siblings. I don’t think it was this simple answer and light at the end of the tunnel. I think, in their minds, maybe, the light at the end of the tunnel was sticking it out. Was fighting. But somehow, and I don’t know how, divorce was the hard, complicated, twisted truth they had to come to.

What I’m saying is this: We were the kids who spent way too long understanding that people are only human. Who endured the hardest of things. Whether or not your parents’ separation was amicable, having divorced parents sucks. But that time we stopped understanding, I think we lost sight of what love was. How much our parents once loved each other. I mean, they created us. That counts for something, right?

Maybe it’s time we start understanding their side of it all. That they did pick up a lot of pieces. That they sacrificed a lot when they chose divorce–number one being their love for each other. Maybe they sacrificed that to keep us in homes that could still be filled with love and laughter, even if they were two different homes.

Again, I really don’t know. Honestly, I’m just kind of ranting here. Let me know what you think.