Gave up on me like I was a bad drug

I love me some TSwift, and I love me some Lover. I love every single song.

Death By A Thousand Cuts

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

Flashbacks waking me up
I get drunk, but it's not enough
'Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby
I look through the windows of this love
Even though we boarded them up
Chandelier's still flickering here
'Cause I can't pretend it's ok when it's not
It's death by a thousand cuts

I dress to kill my time
I take the long way home
I ask the traffic lights if it'll be all right
They say "I don't know"
And what once was ours is no one's now
I see you everywhere
The only thing we share
Is this small town

You said it was a great love
One for the ages
If the story's over
Why am I still writing pages?

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts
Flashbacks waking me up
I get drunk, but it's not enough
'Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby
I look through the windows of this love
Even though we boarded them up
Chandelier still flickering here
'Cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not
It's death by a thousand cuts

My heart, my hips, my body, my love
Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch
Gave up on me like I was a bad drug
Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club
Our songs, our films, united we stand
Our country, guess it was a lawless land
Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand
Paper cut stings from our paper thin plans
My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust
Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up
Gave you too much but it wasn't enough
But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts

I get drunk but it's not enough
'Cause you're not my baby
I look through the windows of this love
Even though we boarded them up
Chandelier's still flickering here
'Cause I can't pretend it's ok when it's not
No, it's not
It's death by a thousand cuts
Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch
My body, my love
My trust
But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough, no, no

I take the long way home
I ask the traffic lights if it'll be all right
They say "I don't know"

Black widow baby

I could write about my terrible week, but I'm very aware of the fact that there are people out there who would love to have my bad days.

So instead of complaining, I'm just going to show you this picture.

Fyi, when I Googled black widow, Scarlett Johansson popped up. I wish Scarlett was in my garage instead of this little beauty. I didn't know they were around here!

ALSO, CAN I BURN MY GARAGE DOWN NOW? Just kidding...kind of.

After I saw this beautiful little shithead, I acted like any sane adult woman. I sent the picture to my parents and then called my Dad.

My text: Is that what I think it is?

My Dad's advice: "It probably won't kill you, but it will really, really hurt."

Thanks, Dad.

I was thinking last night as I was listening to the new TSwift music around a fire outside. I'm pretty sure this little beautiful deadly shithead spider is a metaphor for my life.

I originally took the photo because I thought the spider was beautiful. I didn't realize until a couple of hours later what it actually was.

Oftentimes, maybe all of the times, beautiful things can hurt.

There's a Carrie Underwood song that describes that perfectly.

"You're candy coated misery."

Stupid spider.

This is a nightmare.

A couple of weeks ago, my phone rang.

On the other end was best friend, wanting to know if I'd watch her kids so her and her husband could have a date night for our town's annual celebration.

Of course, I said.

She has two kids that are adorable. Her 3-year-old daughter, A, is the same age as one of my nieces, and I get a huge kick out of hanging out with her.

Once her Mommy and Daddy left, we started talking about best friends. Little A told me about her best friend in school. Then I explained to her that her Mommy and I have known each other since we were little girls.

Little A was interested in that conversation.

"Do you love my Mommy?"

Well of course I do, I told her. I've known your Mommy for a really long time. We grew up together and played together when we were little.

"Do you love my Daddy?"

I wasn't expecting this question, so I tried to play it off as cool as I possibly could. Of course I love your Daddy. He makes your Mommy really happy.

Little A would not let go of this conversation.

"You love my Daddy?"

Well, little girl, yes. He takes care of your Mommy, you and your little brother.

"How much do you love my Daddy?"

She asked various forms of this question to me about 82 times that night. This warranted an immediate text message to her Mommy, warning her that my love for her husband might be taken out of context from a 3-year-old.

In my head, I'm sitting there thinking to myself that this adorable little girl is going to go to school on Monday and tell everyone that a woman came over to her house, without her Mommy there, and told her how much she loved her Daddy.

This is a nightmare.

And then A's little brother started to fuss in his crib. I turned on the baby monitor, only to discover a child with arms and legs, but no head showing on the screen.

I turned on the flashlight app on my phone and peeked in his room, and my only goal was to make sure the child still had a head.

I wish I was kidding.

The baby gave me a weird look, I patted him on the back and told him it was okay, then shut the door.

A few days later, my friend told me that her daughter overheard a conversation in their house. Her husband was going out of town for work, and little A had a question for them. She wanted to know if her Daddy was going out of town "with Monica?"

I'm glad I made a lasting impression on her. But secretly I'm just really just happy that both kids have heads.

Disapproving face

Me: I can't believe you're going to be in kindergarten.

My Dad: You know you can't sleep in anymore, right?

Me: And you only have to do this for the next 12 years.

K, 5 years old: What?

Me: If you include college, you have 16 more years of school ahead of you.

K gives a very disapproving face.

Me: 20 years if you get a master's degree.

I love them.

:)

Better

My brother made a comment the other day that it's been a year since he put his old dog to sleep.

I made a mental note of the date in my head, and said to myself that yes, that sounded about right.

A year ago, I was in a relationship. I got dumped shortly thereafter. (If you're keeping track, I got dumped again in December. Being dumped twice in one year is pretty awesome, let me tell you.)

I started thinking back to one year ago. I had no idea that anything that's happened over the past year of my life would even be possible.

I spent a couple of days being sad, then I decided to go to a concert in Oklahoma, by myself. You might remember those blog posts I wrote, including the one about a certain singer stealing my Sharpie.

Ha, ha.

I got dumped and then went to an Eric Church concert, managed to be in the front row, and then got his autograph.

Um, that was amazing.

Can I get dumped more often? Because what happened after that dumping was probably the best thing that's ever happened to me.

I spent more time with my family. The biggest regret I have is that I spent so much time with a family that wasn't mine and that I ended up losing.

At that concert, I was already talking to that dumper's replacement. Although that replacement didn't last, that was the most fun I've ever had in a relationship. During the mostly happy times with him, we traveled, we drank, I yelled at him for watching Fox News, we went to museums, shut down bars and listened to music as loud as we could.

That's my kind of relationship.

I'd also like to take credit for that guy voting for the first time, ever. (His other girlfriend might have been encouraging it, as well. I'll never know, but I'd like to think I'm the reason.)

Several people have asked me recently where I see myself in a year, five years, and 10 years.

I have no idea how to answer that, because I have no idea what's in store for my life.

A year ago, I thought my world ended. I had no idea that I would own a new car or travel to Tennessee by myself (and love every single second of it).

I think being in bad relationships makes you stronger. I heard a saying the other day, something like: "It doesn't matter if you give your all to the wrong person. It still won't be enough."

I've only learned over the past year (years, actually) that hating the other woman won't bring a guy back. It's just wasted energy*. I've also learned that being where you aren't wanted is the worst feeling in the world.

There will be others in the future, I'm sure. Eventually, I'll replace the replacement that didn't work out. I will smile, listen to loud music at 2 a.m., probably drink a little bit, go to the drive-in just to cuddle, and then start the process all over again.

When the time comes to talk about past relationships with that person, I'll mention it briefly, gloss over the details, and then close that topic permanently.

Because the next one deserves better.

--

*Energy story: My brilliant and beautiful 3-year-old niece asked me why the energy goes out every night. If we just call the energy people, the lights would stay on and we wouldn't have to go to bed at night.

She wins at life.

:)

Kindergarten

I know a couple of little girls who started kindergarten this week.

Kindergarten!

They're going half days now, and will go a full day in a few weeks.

I sat down with them to talk about school today.

Me: K, why didn't you eat your hamburger at school?

K: It has meat in it.

Me: Since when do you not eat meat?

K: Grandma, can I make a bologna sandwich?

This is why I love kids.

:)