a letter to a past love

Thank you for our relationship.  You brought down my walls and made me open up to you.  You kept me up late at night, discussing music and poetry and literature.  My likes and dislikes.  You allowed me to pour out my dreams and ambitions and hopes for the future.  You didn’t judge.  You shared with me your likes and dislikes, your dreams and ambitions and hopes for the future.  You also let me see parts of you that you didn’t necessarily share with others:  your fears, your doubts, and your shortcomings.  You taught me how to be supportive and how to understand things that were originally outside of my realm of comprehension.  In return, I felt comfortable sharing those things with you: my doubts, my fears, and my shortcomings.  You were supportive and I hope I helped you interpret new things, too - things you wouldn’t have necessarily understood otherwise.  You brought out the best in me and helped me learn things about myself I’m not sure I would have learned without your influence.  You helped me grow as a person, and for all of that, I thank you for our relationship.

Thank you for our breakup.  As our relationship progressed, things took a turn for the worse.  I saw characteristics and traits in you that clashed with my values and beliefs.  What started out as a healthy relationship turned into a completely different animal.  I rehash past conversations and interactions and am amazed at my self-image during the rough patches before our inevitable end.  I was insecure and self-deprecating.  The me I am today is slightly embarrassed, but more than anything else, I can feel her hurt, her pain, and her confusion all over again.  I learned the hard way that you can only care about someone so much who doesn’t care about himself.  It’s exhausting, and although I wouldn’t have changed how I tried to help and support you, I now see that I deserved better.  I’m not here to bash you or even wish you ill-will.  You taught me to stand up for myself and to be able to decide when enough really was enough.  You helped me grow and become a stronger person, and for all of that, I thank you for our breakup.

love makes the world go ‘round

I am a woman.  I was born a female.  I am a college graduate with a degree in Communication.  I am very interested in the way people communicate and in the way groups negotiate their identities.  I am not lesbian, gay, bisexual, questioning, or transitioning.  I am straight.  I like men; it’s just my preference and what I find attractive.  I am a sister, a daughter, a cousin, a friend, and a best friend to a few.  I have the right to own a gun, the right to vote, and the right to marry whatever man I want wherever I want (within reason, of course.  I wouldn’t go out of my way to break up Mark Wahlberg’s marriage).

I have the best friends in the world, and I mean it.  At the drop of the hat, I know that if I needed something I can pick up the phone and they’re there for me.  I would absolutely do the same for them.  In college I had my fair share of heartbreak.  My besties were there with ice cream, pizza, and only the best John Cusack movies.  My friends have supported me through every loss and celebrated with me for every accomplishment.

I have a great family, too.  We’re a tight-knit support system, and we’re loyal to a fault.  My parents have made sacrifices for me that I will never be able to pay back, but they do it out of love.  I truly consider myself lucky in life.

So why do I find that I am so nervous to write this piece?  Probably because I know that not every friend I possess and not every family member I love will agree with me.  But I have to write it anyway.  I have to write it because earlier today I was in tears, having had a serious conversation with one of my dearest and best friends.

My best friend is a man.  He was born a man.  He is a college graduate, too.  We went to college together and became very close our sophomore year, especially after he came out to me.  He was questioning.  He is gay.  He’s not transitioning.  He likes men; it’s his preference and what he finds attractive.  He is a brother, a son, a cousin, a friend, and a best friend to a few.  He has the right to own a gun, the right to vote, but he does not have the right to marry whatever man he wants wherever he wants.

I can’t wrap my head around the idea that two people in love and committed to each other aren’t allowed to make it official in marriage without causing an uproar from more close-minded individuals.  I also can’t wrap my head around the fact that something that I see as a basic human right can be denied to a human being, especially when it wouldn’t hurt anyone else.  Our country has been through hardships and, yes, such a “young” country is going to make mistakes, but do we really want to look back twenty years from now and say that we denied couples the right to express themselves through marriage?  This coming August 28th will be the 40-year anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech.  Forty years.  This August 18th will be the 93rd anniversary of the Nineteenth Amendment.  Both of those dates should resonate with different groups of people.  It hasn’t even been 100 years since our nation oppressed two of the largest groups in our population.

But the oppression of the past is not my point.  They’re just examples as a reference of our nation’s missteps and attempted reconciliations.  My best friend got his degree in history, so I figured it would be pertinent to look at history as it generally does repeat itself.  My point is this: how can a group of people who possess all their “God-given” rights (which seem to be changing all the time, i.e. 40 and 93 years ago) make decisions for another group of people?  I have the right to vote, and I have the right to marry whatever man I want.  Yes, women didn’t have the right to vote 93 years ago, but I can’t relate to that.  I’ve never not had the right to vote once I turned 18.  I’ve also never not had the right to marry whatever man I want.  I think the real, overarching problem is that the decision-makers of our nation haven’t experienced the same types of oppression.

But for me, at the end of the day, it’s not about religion and it’s not about politics.  People will try to make it about those things because they don’t understand it and because they then feel like they have control over something.  They don’t understand not having those rights.  I don’t understand not having those rights.  What I do understand is seeing my best friend, who would do anything for me, not being able to have all the same advantages as me and then hearing people say terrible things about him and about others like him just because their preferences are different.  To me, you have one life, and it’s spent – even from early childhood – learning about love.  Love is the only reason for living and it’s what makes the world turn.  Love for a spouse.  Love for a child.  Love for your passion in life.  Simply, love of life.  Why deny anyone the right to express love, especially if it really isn’t going to hurt anyone else?  I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t pretend that I do.  But I think that at the end of the day, all people are working towards a common goal.  I think that everyone wants love in his or her life, whether it be romantically, platonically, or otherwise, and it is wrong to deny that most basic joy to anyone.

19/3/2013. 15:45.

I’m currently sitting on a bench at a memorial park for the Great Famine of the 1800s.  Besides a woman thinking I’m Irish and pulling over to ask me for directions, this might be my favorite part of today so far.  I can’t put into words how it is here.  Off in the distance, all I can see across the water is mountains.  They’re a periwinkle landscape against a sky of varying hues of gray and white that make me never want to leave this absolutely breathtaking country.  So much beauty and not enough words to describe it.

image

[excerpt taken from journal; written on this bench overlooking Galway Bay]

I would give anything to go back.

Love is never defeated, and I could add, the history of Ireland proves it.

I can’t wait for my journey to Ireland on March 15th!  If anyone knows anyone looking to put lil old me up for a night or two, please let me know!

my evil bff.

Me:
JIMMY TOOK GARY TO THE STUDIO TODAY!!!

Marissa:
?

me:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Marissa:
whattttt does that meannnnn

me:
JIMMY TOOK GARY TO THE STUDIO!!! and i'm not there :( and jimmy named his girl dog a boy name!

Marissa:
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh jimmy kimmel

me:
NO. Fallon.

Marissa:
hahaha

me:
omg you hate me. how do you not know the difference?!?!?!

Marissa:
i know i did that on purpose muahahhahahahahaha MWUAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

me:
i have like anxiety right now

Marissa:
TRICKED YAH BETCH

me:
why am i not there to meet gary

Marissa:
haha

me:
sooooooooo rude

Marissa:
MADEJAHLOOK

me:
also, i feel like i wouldn't get really starstruck around too many "celebrities" but like.. i'd be so nervous to meet Jimmy Fallon

Marissa:
haha @Blackout_Barbie Screw the "it's 5 o'clock somewhere" excuse to drink; "it's Monday" is reason enough

me:
hahahaha i just.. love jimmy fallon

Marissa:
are you watching clips of him noww

me:
maybe...