holyhangover batman…

When I had a actual hangover yesterday, I posted “holyhangover batman” as my facebook status, my sister’s reply was “Hangovers are like men, the best way to get over one is to get under a new one, drink up bitches!” It made me laugh. Although my reply was something along the lines of reminding her of a bad hangover she had once where the only “getting under another one” was to get back under the covers after puking again and going back to sleep. I thought about the breakup hangover and realized the depth of the hangover depends on how you should react. Sometimes, you get under a new one, and it’s easy, sometimes you puke and get back under the covers for a while, hide so to speak, so that you can recover while drinking a ton of gatorade (which would be spending time with friends in the case of a man hangover). If you use hair of the dog to recover from a bad hangover, you will eventually have to face the hangover when you stop drinking… Is love like getting drunk?

Dating without getting over my broken heart was doing exactly like drinking to get over my hangover, eventually when I stopped, I felt the hangover. I had to crawl under my covers and sleep it off, then I re-hydrated by hanging out with my friends again. I think I’m still hydrating, not ready to drink from the pool of men again, but I’m starting to crave it again, like an alcoholic craves a drink even years after they have had one. I know however it won’t be a good thing for me, so I am refraining from that urge to drink. Well, not alcohol anyway, just the nectar of men, because that hangover doesn’t compare to the one I had yesterday from drinking way too much vodka.

It’s not that I’m afraid of having my heart broke again, I actually recently got over that fear, which is how I allowed it to happen in the first place. I do realize I’d rather have a broken heart than feel nothing at all, how I was for a very long time. I realize that feeling this, hangover, is in fact feeling something, and I would rather feel it than feel nothing. If I turn on the fear again, block it out, become numb again, I could just go date again, but it would mean nothing. I want to feel not only the pain of the hangover, but I want to feel drunk in love again. So, for now, I’ll continue to hydrate myself in an effort to rid myself of this hangover, so that someday I can get drunk again.

How about a fresh pot of steaming…

Well, steaming, STEAM! I got one of those spam emails this morning, I swear I’ve unsubscribed a few times, they go away about a week and then come back. I’ve mentioned them before, the “dating guru” people. This one really got under my skin, REALLY irritated me. I sat here reading it, picking it apart, every bit of what he said was against everything I believe in. He says he speaks for all men, when really, he speaks for himself, his kind of man, which makes me so glad it’s not the type of man I want. I’m sure some of you men out there and even some women agree with him, I however find what he has to say to be a huge part of what is wrong with relationships, why marriages fail, in this country. I’ll get into that in a minute.

He says in this email ” “Eat, Pray, Love” has been on my mind recently. Not in the least because of the big billboard right outside my house, which says: “You Don’t Need a Man. You Need a Champion.” You like the way that sounds, don’t you? Well, if this line speaks to you… If this is the way you truly feel about relationships… If you really resonate with this and are holding out for no less than your own hero… You’re most likely making a HUGE mistake.” I want to scream at him, ‘HOW DARE YOU!’, but I keep reading, and it gets worse, my rage, seething, and anger are about to peak.

would be nice though... no?

“That’s what you’re holding out for in a man. Fair enough. So, for a moment, I’d like you to imagine a movie designed specifically for men. Not an action movie, not a horror movie. A movie about one man’s perfect love. After years of being trapped in a sexless, emotionless marriage to a woman who didn’t want to have a baby, Alex leaves his wife to go find himself. Distraught, he decides to have an adventure. He drives to Vegas. He flies to Ibiza. He journeys to Thailand. Until finally, he discovers the woman who gives him everything he needs. He writes a book: “Drink, Play, F@#%”. Howard Stern and Maxim magazine promote the hell out of it, and Alex sells the movie rights. Soon, it’s in a theater near you. You won’t see it, of course, but you can’t miss the ubiquitous billboards: “You don’t need a woman. You need a pornstar who cooks.” ” All I can think, is this guy has to be kidding, I don’t know many men, at least REAL men who want a pornstar who cooks. What man wants something that is always THAT easy? THIS kind of man, I don’t want in my life. I know without a doubt, not all men, not even most men, feel this way. Maybe a few of you on here do, so I’m not excluding some men, but, let me say, without a doubt, this is not what I want in my life. Not to mention, if the character he described about hating his wife and a sexless marriage is what you are in, omg, DO SOMETHING about it! Holy cow, I can’t even believe these words he said! Of course, it only gets worse…

“Men really DO want the Supermodel/Top Chef/Rhodes Scholar. Women really DO want a hero and a champion. And yet, in order to find happiness, we both must relax our fantasies a little bit. Not because they don’t feel great. They do. The reason to relax your fantasies is because they’re unrealistic, and they almost invariably lead to disappointment.” See, here’s the thing, he makes the assumption that by wanting MY hero, my prince charming, I expect him to be perfect. I don’t expect perfection, far from it, but I’m not willing to live a dull, unfulfilling life with someone who less than meets my expectations because I’m so desperate to not be alone.  I’ve been there, done that, I’ve settled for what this author suggests, it also, doesn’t end well, it ends with me hurting this poor schmuck, because this guy, isn’t what I want. If the “normal” guy wants the pornstar that cooks, but settles for me, and I want a hero and settle for him, neither of us is happy. But I don’t want a ‘hero’, and the guy I want, doesn’t want a pornstar, what we want is eachother, the one we are meant to be with. I think this guy doesn’t get it when he “coaches” women, we want the one that draws us like a magnet, the one that feels the same about us. Maybe there are also a small percentage of women out there who do have unreal expectations, maybe I’m the one who’s different in what my fairytale ending is composed of. I encourage the women to speak up, do you want tall dark and handsome, six figure income, a hero to save you, nobel prize winner, all that and a bag of chips? Or do you just want to find the right one for you, the one that other people may not see anything but ordinary, but was created just for you? I think there is a GREAT misunderstanding with these so called dating coaches/guru’s about what women want. When we turn down guy after guy, it’s not that we are being too picky, it’s that the chemistry just isn’t there, and it’s not something you can force. Yes, you can settle, which is what he encourages, so he is right, and makes money. He also encourages you to change who you are, says you won’t ever find what you are looking for, so you should change to what the man wants… WHAT? That pisses me off.

I blogged about it here,https://driven2batshitcrazy.wordpress.com/2010/08/28/is-love-a-fairytale/ , and as much as I think about it, I still stand by my convictions. Romantic, crazy, foolish, unrealistic… maybe, but I’d rather be all those things than settle and be unhappy and then have to divorce someone, travel around, write a book that becomes a movie and have some guru tell the world I should have stayed with the unhappy marriage that I settled for in the first place. Sorry dude, time to unsubscribe… again.

Is Love a Fairytale?

I read a lot about psychology, modern culture, and what’s wrong with society. A common theme among most hypotheses today is that we are wrong to want the fairy tale ending as women, that it doesn’t exist. Blame Disney movies we grew up with, blame Hollywood, blame our imaginations for wanting what doesn’t exist. This notion of the fairytale is supposed to be a modern notion brought to us by a screen and actors, but nothing is real about it. I’m going to challenge this rather popular notion, because the story of the fairy tale, the ever enduring, willing to die for love, starts at the beginning of our written history.

Beginning with Adam and Eve, they defied the all mighty GOD for such a sin as love. We all know the story, or at least the important parts, we get the metaphors, and we understand it’s obviously not a true story, but it is the first love story of sorts to tell us that love, love like this is bad, it seems the writer of this story must have been a nonbeliever. Maybe in the modern day, he would try to tell me that my fairytale isn’t real, that it can never happen? Perhaps, but I think we should move forward in time a bit, or so it would seem since I know that the story I’m about to mention was actually older than the written story of the bible’s Adam and Eve, and all the other, less romantic ones. How about we talk Greek. There are too many stories to list, fairy tales it would seem, more unreal expectations for women to thrust upon less than deserving men. At least that is my opinion. Cupid and Psyche,  Orpheus and Eurydice, Echo and Narcissus, and Pygmalion and Galatea, love stories, fairy tales, fiction… or were they written metaphors for what really happened? Want to skip the Greek’s, ok, lets move on to merry Ole’ England, God Bless the Queen! Lets talk Shakespeare in that case, and the most famous of his love stories, Romeo and Juliet. It is my favorite, not because of some movie with Leo, I loved Shakespeare before it was pop culture, I’ve read this play so many times I can recite most of the lines when I watch almost any version of it being played out. It is of course one of the more tragic love stories, but the moral, the lesson to be learned is not that it’s foolish to love, the lesson is that true love is worth dying for, it’s worth everything. It’s a story that has stood through time, century after century we retell it in a hundred different ways. The lesson is the same. In no particular order, Jane Eyre and Rochester, Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler, Elizabeth Bennett and Darcy, Pocahontas and John Smith, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, Napoleon and Josephine, Tristan and Isolde, Lancelot and Guinevere, Cleopatra and Mark Antony, all love stories across time, I could go on and on and on. 

So lets discuss Disney, it’s my understanding that we should teach young girls that this will never happen, it’s a cartoon, there is no prince charming, and no one will ever love us the way he does, or is it the happy ending that bothers psychologists so much? Should we instead show them Romeo and Juliet instead, show them what can happen, and let them decide if it’s worth it for themselves? How do you teach them the fairy tale can happen, even when it ends, it’s still worth it to fall in love instead of teaching them to marry for practical reasons, to be dull and lifeless, to ignore what is in their hearts? Don’t we do enough to children to stammer their imaginations as they grow up without taking away the fairy tale too?

Why do the naysayers feel so strongly that love this strong isn’t real? It can’t happen? Is it impossible? Or have they just personally given up and settled for what was easy? Maybe it’s not possible for everyone, but I think it’s possible for those that still believe in it. I think when you give up, when you believe what the media says, and let go of your dreams, you won’t find happiness and contentment, you will find you have lost yourself. I suppose there are people out there that just don’t have it in them, they look at us dreamers as crazy, lunatics, as if we live in a fantasy. I think I prefer my fantasy, my stories, and my hope that some day, my prince will come for me. I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory than to have some wet bucket douse my fire.

There is a quote somewhere about the craziest people out there, the ones that believe that anything they dream up can happen are the ones that make their dreams come true. True invention comes from fearless heart, believing in yourself and that your dream can happen. Inventors never say something can’t happen, that it’s impossible, they would never create something unique if they did. This is the way I feel about love. Someday, my prince charming will come, maybe he did and I missed him, but I won’t quit looking for my happy ending, I know it’s out there. All the wet buckets can go find a mop somewhere to suck it up, stay away from my flame!

Maid of HONOR?

I fully expect to wear something along these lines

According to http://www.themaidofhonorguide.com the follow is what is expected of me… .GULP

The following are things that the maid of honor is expected to do:

• Coordinate with the bridesmaids. This could include keeping them informed about fittings, pre-wedding parties, or anything else they need to know.
• Host a shower with the help of the bridesmaids. This includes planning, setting up, and splitting the costs.
• Host, plan, and set up the bachelorette party with the help of the bridesmaids.
• Pay for your wedding day attire. This includes your dress, jewelry, and shoes. The bridal party is responsible for purchasing their own attire; occasionally a very generous and thoughtful bride will purchase these items for you, but don’t bet the farm on it.
• Help the bride shop for wedding dresses, or at least offer.
• Keep the groom’s ring during the wedding ceremony.
• Arrange the bride’s train at appropriate point in ceremony, if needed.
• Hold the bride’s bouquet during the ceremony vows. (Be sure to give it back before she trots back up the aisle!)
• Arrange the receiving line after the ceremony, if applicable.
• Sign the marriage license if needed.
• Toast the bride and groom if given an opportunity-this could be at the rehearsal dinner or at the wedding reception.
• Help where needed at reception; make sure bride has a chance to eat and drink something.
• Dance in the wedding party dance if applicable.

All of this, for my stepsister/bff that lives in another state over 12 hours away by car, and is getting married even further way in her fiance’s home town in the midwest…. Add to that, I don’t think a single bridesmaid lives in her state or the one she’s getting married in! This will be uh.. interesting to say the least. Add to it, I’ve only ever been in 2 weddings, and never been a maid of honor. I think the worst part for me will be giving a speech! I know I know, you all think if I can write all this here, surely I can say it out loud… you couldn’t be more wrong. My fear of public speaking goes so deep I can barely get  a word out, my voice cracks, I shake, and I forget anything I’ve memorized or prepared and can’t read out of note-cards since my hands are shaking so bad. I guess I’ll have to get drunk. At least at a wedding or rehearsal dinner no one expects me to be sober, unlike giving a speech at school. Then they expect me, white girl, to dance? as in like slow dance with someone? or can I just get out there and shake my money maker like I have a clue? Given the date of the wedding, I have a few ideas of my own about things I can bring to the table. It’s on Friday the 13th… they actually wanted this, her fiance says it’s a lucky date for him, and it’s the only one next year.

You can't expect me to leave a date like this alone can you?

So here is what I will bring to the table in my own unique and surprising way:

• First things first, a hockey mask and bloody knife of course!
• I think it only appropriate to surprise the bride by having all of the wedding party learn and dance the thriller dance instead of the electric slide. Wearing the hockey mask of course!
• Writing “Help me” on the bottom of the grooms shoes so when he’s kneeling at the alter everyone will see it.
• Put confetti and glitter in the heating/air-conditioning vents of the car.

I’ll come up with more things I can do, both for the parties I have to give and attend and the wedding and reception. I’m not going to ruin it of course, but I am going to give them a hard time!

You can’t be surprised considering I’ll probably be wearing some bright orange puffy sleeved too short shows my cellulite dress that she picked out. Or the fact knowing my sister she will be playing pranks on all of us no doubt for the next year until the wedding!

But I am actually honored she chose me. My sister and I have known each other for almost 20 years now. As soon as we met at 16 years old, we were instant best friends. Being best friends with your sister isn’t unheard of, but with a step sibling it is kind of rare. I have 4 other step siblings and I pretty much can’t stand any of them. Not to mention my half siblings I’m actually related to, not a huge fan there either. So to be as fortunate enough to have my best friend be related to me by marriage makes me quite fortunate. We use to write letters to each other snail male before the dawn of email and pc’s or facebook, and long distance was quite expensive back then so it was limited as well. We were always states away but kept in touch. I was in her first wedding as well, not maid of honor, but none the less, I was there. We can get on the phone and talk and laugh for hours sometimes, and like last night we make up inside jokes and add to them and can be laughing so hard we are in tears and our faces hurt. And when times are hard, she is one of the few people I turn to and I am for her as well. So it really is an honor to stand with her at her wedding. But remember who’s writing this blog, if you think it didn’t bring up other things for me, think again. But we’ll discuss those at a later date. I’m at work now trying to write this and keep getting interrupted.

Coward

Main Entry: coward

Part of Speech: noun

Definition: person who is scared, easily intimidated

Synonyms: alarmist, baby, caitiff, chicken heart, chicken liver, chicken, craven, cur, dastard, deserter, faint-of-heart, faintheart, fraidy-cat, funk, gutless, invertebrate, jellyfish, lily liver, malingerer, mouse, pessimist, poltroon, quitter, rabbit, recreant, scaredy cat, shirk, shirker, skulker, sneak, weakling, white liver, wimp, yellow belly, yellow.

My favorite of these are lily liver and yellow belly. Those are just a few words I can use to describe at least 90% of the men I’ve dated, my friends have dated, hell that my mother has married. My friend Vol was dating my neighbor Deere. They met back in May at my graduation party, he was instantly smitten with her, almost speechless around her. She was hesitant about him because well, he’s 25 and she’s older, and she’s just come out of some pretty rough times of her own with an abusive husband she’s still in hiding from. Deere was stuck to her like glue, for months, I rarely saw him come home except to get clean clothes to go back to her house. Then while she was on vacation at the beach with her mother he was home, then when she got back, he was different. She said he barely talked to her while she was gone and when she asked why, he grew even more distant. After I talked with his roommate, aka. my hairdresser and awesome, she said Deere thought Vol was about to drop the “L” bomb! hahahahahah. Maybe Vol was going to drop the L bomb, but she denies it to me. So Vol has a talk with Deere, and tries to clear the air of all pressure on him. A week later after things had been normal again, he stops calling, answering her calls, and even ignores her when she’s sitting next to him in traffic and honks at him and calls! He refuses to acknowledge she exists suddenly. I don’t know why, I really don’t care, he’s too much of a coward to end a relationship with a woman he’s spent at least 5 nights a week with for several moths, he officially SUCKS.

They haven’t talked in 2 weeks, she came over last Friday and Saturday. I saw him Thur. night when I walked the dog the last time and said “look, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but Vol is coming over tomorrow night and it would be nice if you two could exchange personal property with out it being uncomfortable, how about you just leave her stuff on my patio and she’ll do the same with yours?” he agreed. Friday night, he didn’t leave her stuff, so she didn’t deliver his. He was home, she was freaked. I encouraged her to go over there, knock on the door, and ask him to come out and go for a walk and talk to her like a man. I mean, come on, this is the stupidest thing EVER. What grown ass man does this crap. Oh ya, I forget, ALL OF THEM! Seriously… grow a pair dude.

The worst part, what I know would happen if she did this, he would lie to her, tell her he’s sorry and they should work things out, he still cares about her and everything is ok and he’ll call her tomorrow. Then, he’d do the SAME.DAMN.THING! He’d go right back to ignoring avoiding her at all costs. Pathetic. All she wants is closure. Why don’t men get that? Closure shouldn’t be so hard to give us. Why is it so hard to tell us that you aren’t interested in us anymore? You don’t have to analyze it to death, if you don’t want to tell us why, don’t, but tell us it’s over, have some balls man! And then you wonder why you think all women are crazy? why all your ex’s are crazy? HELLO? REALLY? You don’t think it has ANYTHING, everything to do with the disappearing act? the avoidance? the “fraidy-cat, lily liver, invertebrate, jellyfish” manner in which YOU handle things with us?

Main Entry: cur

Part of Speech: noun

Definition: rotten, lowly animate being

Synonyms: black sheep, blackguard, bum, cad, coward , dog, good-for-nothing, heel, hound, ne’er-do-well, rat, riffraff, scoundrel, scum, skunk, snake, stinker, toad, villain, worm, wretch, yellow dog.

Maybe these are better terms for the kind of men I’m speaking of? But what I want to know is, are there any other kind? Do the real men we fantasize about as women really exist at all? I thought some men wrote movies, they write the characters that women want to be with, they know what we want, and yet where are these men? Maybe I’m delusional, maybe they are all married already, maybe they just don’t live in this country. I really have no idea anymore. And this isn’t just about closure, it’s about romance too. So many men and yes women too, are so scared to reveal their emotions, for fear they will make the other person run and do what Deere did to my friend. We shouldn’t have to be afraid of that, it just seems so utterly ridiculous to me that adults act this way. Why can’t a man allow himself to fall for a woman without over thinking it to death, why can’t the woman let him with out freaking out and running? And why can’t the woman when she falls back be allowed to show it? Where is the everlasting devotion in this century?

I know I’ve blogged about how I’m broken, I really am, I have nothing left to give to anyone at this point. I have spent most of my life giving and giving to my friends, always being there for them in their hour of need, I finally hit the point of nothing left to give to anyone. I think I’m glad my true friends recognize this about me and are there for me right now, they are giving to me now that I need it, and I appreciate it, but it still doesn’t change the emptiness I feel inside, no matter how great they are. You can’t warm a heart that doesn’t exist anymore. I go through the motions every day, doing what is expected of me, putting on a smile and fake conversation at work, try to hang out with friends, but really no one wants to hang out with someone who has nothing to say, nothing to give back. THIS ^ above what I talked about it, is part of it, being fed up.

Main Entry:     hopeless

Part of Speech:     adjective

Definition:     futile, pessimistic

Synonyms:     bad, beyond recall, cynical, dejected, demoralized, despairing, desperate, despondent, disconsolate, discouraging, downhearted, fatal, forlorn, gone, goner, helpless, ill-fated, impossible, impracticable, in despair, incurable, irredeemable, irreparable, irreversible, irrevocable, lost, menacing, no-win, past hope, pointless, sad, shot down, sinister, sunk, threatening, tragic, unachievable, unavailing, unfortunate, unmitigable, up the creek, useless, vain, woebegone, worsening.

I’m not sure what I will get out of writing today’s blog, probably nothing more than a way for me to whine and vent and let go of some of the anger building inside me. I suppose anger is better something, it’s not emptiness. But soon after the anger resides, I’m hollow again.

Broken

That is what I am now. I understand the hole in my chest I’m feeling now. I’ve been knocked down so many times, had my heart broken so many times, it’s now shattered, too many tiny pieces to try to put it back together again, I can’t get back up again. With each piece that was left I tried to get back up, use what was left to make it whole again, like a lizard regrows a tail, until finally, every last part is broken, gone and there is nothing left to regrow. That is the hole. It’s not a specific person or heartbreak, it’s the sum of all of them, even the little disappointments, chipping away, what I thought was mending was only going to take another sliver. I just don’t have the strength to get back up again.

This doesn’t come from recent heartbreak, it’s not from Brown, I never loved him, I barely liked him, he was though, another disappointment, the last little speck of my heart that was left, was spent trying to like him, to regrow the heart I had once upon a time. I expressed my pain to all men in my letter to him, the one I never sent and posted on here. He was however never worthy of my love, not that I had any left to give. I gave my last bit of love, my heart, to Mr. NY, and although I believe he did love me in return, he ruined that piece I gave to him, crushed it with lies and manipulation. I told him goodbye, he left the country, and those fences are not ones that can be mended. What’s done is done and I don’t regret saying what I said.

Yes, I burn, yearn, ache for true love. I fear, I know, if it finds me, I’m too broken that I’ll have nothing left to give. That part of me is missing, and I can’t share that anywhere but here. So I’ve come to a conclusion that I have to move. There is nothing left for me here, moving here in the first place was a mistake. It’s contributed to crushing what little spirit I had left in me, and all the love I had left was also lost here. I can’t look at this place anymore, I hope that if I can get far far away, some shred of who I am can be found and rebuilt. This is something I know I need to do, I need to do it alone, and maybe if I can’t rebuild who I was, I can start from scratch and build a new me, but I can’t do it here.

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.” — Washington Irving

Melancholy

I guess you could say I have it. I feel quiet inside, very still, somber somehow. I feel like through this mood, I’m still searching for something in my mind, another elusive epiphany maybe? No wait, that doesn’t describe it exactly either… it’s an aching, like there is a hole, part of me missing, lost, gone maybe?

It’s Friday the 13th, I believe in fact the last one of the year, the next one, next year in May, my sister will be getting married. I believe sometime after that, my other sister will be married as well. I think all my siblings being married short the one I disowned and will probably be married before me anyway, has me thinking. I wonder if I ask too much in a soul mate, a partner for life, if I should settle for less. Did they settle for less, or did they somehow seem to find exactly what I’ve been searching for my whole life? If they found it, why can’t I? Or did I and I screwed it up, letting it slip through my fingers without realizing it? I don’t know the answers to these questions, I think I don’t want to know.

I didn’t ever want to get married, I was ok with just finding “him”, my soul mate, the one I was meant to be with forever. But for some reason, probably hormonal, I started to think I wanted a family and kids and a husband. I’m not sure why for a few months I thought that, but I think it has a lot to do with what is expected of me. I think I’m back to myself again, the hormones are under control, and despite my quest to find “him”, I don’t want to marry him, I don’t feel the need to have kids anymore. My only want is what it has always been, to not settle, to find the one I know I’m meant to be with and then be with him until the day we die. It’s not that I feel incomplete, well right now I do (which is entirely new to me), but I’ve always felt like a whole person, just that part of me aches, burns, and hurts. I wish I could better express the aching in my heart that I feel ever waking hour, that has always been there, that never leaves the back of my mind, that I’ve lived with as long as I can remember. It’s always been there, even when I was too young to understand it, and I am usually able to push it deep down away from where anyone can see it, usually. Everyone sees the smiling me, the happy me, no one has ever truly seen what’s inside, I’m not sure how they would handle me if they did, but I think I wish someone could. I think I wish there was a “him” that I could share this with, who would understand instead of running away. This is just a small glimpse, of craziness, of pain, of sadness, that is always just under the surface of my smiles and nervous chatter. My art always showed a glimpse of it, but I stopped making art, it became too painful when other people saw it and knew what was inside me, especially those I loved, it hurt them to know that I hurt, it scared them to see the depths of me.

Maybe that is my destiny, to walk the earth alone, searching and never finding. Maybe there is a bigger picture for me to find along the way, something else that I’m not seeing right now. I keep finding myself speechless, nothing to say to anyone, just wanting to run away from here right now. A distraction would be good for me if I could afford the airfare or time off work.

Right now, I can’t fake it, and I know I need to by tonight, a friend needs me to be the smiling strong face she knows while she’s in a bad place. So I’m going to do my best, to kick my own ass to smile, put on the strong front I always do of the strong, smart, independent woman everyone tells me I have to be. And when my friend leaves, and I’m alone, I’ll go for a walk, in the dark, and break down again.