March 1

So today is the day. I'm taking a month off men, except my gays. 31 days there are in March, 4 weekends. The thought of it gives me anxiety, but day one is almost done and so far so good. I did already have to turn down one invite, but it really wasn't one I wanted anyway so it was fairly easy to turn down. However, I met a man this past weekend and he made me giddy for the first time in a long time. I want him to call, but if he does, then what? My immediate reaction to the exchange of phone numbers, which happens oh so frequently was that he will never call anyway so I do not need to worry. Then again it's only Tuesday. It's amazing freedom to have four weekends, no dates. Except with my girls and my gays. Whatever will I do... That's the amazing part, whatever I want.

Playing House

I was never his type. I pretended for a long time that it could work. But really all I was doing was playing house with him because Garrett and Tommy didn't want me. And all he was really doing was substituting this Jessica for the one he cant have. None of it fits. I went to his house last night. We are trying to be "friends". You know my thoughts on male/female friendships. There is always arterial motives. Someone wants more than the other. I have seen it a hundred times. The man hangs around the woman he's in love with hoping someday she will realize that she loves him too and they will live happily ever after, until she gets a boyfriend or he gets a real girlfriend. Ryan and I played house for over a year. We were always together, invited to parties together, family gatherings. People expected us to be together. We talked every day, stayed the night with each other, didn't make plans without consulting each other. We were boyfriend and girlfriend without the sex. (Except for the one time I drank too much during 24 and that time on Cinco De Mayo when I was supposed to be the designated driver and had too many tequila shots.) Until he got a real girlfriend. I was just the substitute until the right girl came along. He comes back every time she leaves him, three or four times now, I've lost count. And we pick up where we left off. So I know what it looks like, except this time I was the girlfriend and Jay-Z left me for the friend. I used to feel guilty for being so angry about their friendship, since that's what Amy and Ryan did to me. I could sympathize with her. I told him tonight that he's in love with her. I know that's why he's "confused" and "it's not fair to me". He's in love with another woman. And I'm not his type. It was fun for awhile, a challenge. But fantasies never last. Looking at his history, he's into borderline white trash, frumpy girls and I am the skin tight skirt, stiletto heels wearing big boobed blonde who talks too much and is into borderline bad boys, with full sleeve tattoos and an attitude that makes my friends and family slightly uncomfortable. It never would have worked.

Catch and Release

My sister said it couldn't be done. You cannot catch and release mice. But I don't want to hurt him. I want to usher him outside because I'm disgusted in a friendly non-threatening manner. So I got the sticky mouse traps and I put peanut butter on them like Julie said and I set them out around the house. I am watching Criminal Minds and I hear something in the kitchen so I run in to find my worthless hunting dog, who hid through the entire mouse discovery, caught in a sticky mouse pad. I pull it off her paw afraid as she cries. We go up to bed even though I am scared the mouse will decide to venture out of the kitchen and up the stairs into my room. I get up in the morning, like a child on Christmas, to check my mouse traps, still unsure what to do if there is one there. I hear him, he is stuck to the trap. Just his tail, the rest of him under the dishwasher. I gently tug on the mouse pad, trying not to rip his tail off and/or vomit. He is squealing away and I feel really bad. I am finally able to get him free and he is dangling from the pad by his tail. I haven't thought this through, so I run outside. He is crying and I'm talking to him like the dog. "Okay, sweet boy (I think he's a boy), just trying to get your tail free, calm body." It doesn't work, because after all he is a mouse but after a few minutes of careful tugging, I free his tail, run in the house, shut the door, and throw up (because it's gross). Then peek out the window and he's sitting outside cleaning himself. Jessica Waters, Catch and Release Mouse Hunter, it can be done.

She Don't Need a Man

Jay-Z said to me that I was too independent. He wanted to take care of someone and that I don't need that. It's true. I have been on my own for a long time. Taking care of my heart, my home, my career, my finances. I live a nice life, filled with blessings. I love my independence. I really do value being able to take care of myself. I watched my mom growing up and I watch my mom now, she was able to take care of everything alone. She still does. I place value in being able to succeed without a man. A confidence that I can stand alone and I will until the right man comes along. Men are constantly promising things. Boston told me he would fix the clutch in the Kia. Jay-Z told me he would clean that pot I burned. A friend told me he would fix the front door that lets in cold air. The promises are endless. And yet I fight the clutch every morning, I threw the pot away, and the house is still freezing. I am skeptical for a reason. So I baked cookies tonight. Then decided to make dinner as I reached for a pot a mouse ran from the stove and hid under the dishwasher. I screamed and leapt onto the kitchen table, where I proceeded to sit while exhausted every contact in my phone looking for help. Jay-Z, Boston, Andrew, Eli, no answer. I'm freaking out! Calling a man to rescue the woman completely in despair. Fifteen minutes later, with no responses, the panic began to cease and I called my mom. She walked me through the steps of catching a mouse. I climbed down off the kitchen table, terrified. I can hear it munching away on something and I want to vomit. I drove to Fred Meyer, bought some sticky mouse traps and set them up in the kitchen. I have no idea what I will do if I catch something. But I definitely know I can't count on any man to come to the rescue. So yes, I have learned to be independent because otherwise nothing would ever get done.

2011

Happy new year. I spent the new year with good friends, had a kiss at midnight, and spent the entire day in bed on new years day. Ringing in the new year was exactly as planned. Leaving behind the drama and exhaustion of 2010 and headed into 2011 with my head high and my slate clear. New year's resolutions. Every year we make a list of things we want to avoid/try/change for the new year. Let's see what I want for 2011.

○ To lose the weight I put on the past few months while hiding from the world, I have put back on the weight I lost after being kicked around in July. I spend $50.00 on healthy food at the store tonight. So far I feel like I’m starving.
○ I said to myself on new years eve as I drove away from one of the boys who hurt me last year that I would not pursue any man this year. I'm worth pursuing.
○ I also said to myself in the same breath that I would have a Buzz free, Jay-Z free, G3 free no year. Although the list goes on, those 3 really got to go.
○ I surrender to God's plan. The past two years I have been struggling on my own, following my plan. I give this year to Him. I am sure His way is better than mine.

An expensive lesson

He said to me this time, "I really do not or did not try to f*ck with you! I really didn't think I was leading you on tho! I don't like hurting you so I just thought that I should speak up now befor things go heavier!" That was his exact message. I should have known. Being friends is something woman say when they want to trick guys into getting back together by allowing them to see how amazing they are by remaining friends. I keep putting him on this pedestal, thinking he's this great guy because he has treated me the best out of the revolving door of losers that I have been through this past year/life. Turns out he's worse because he's in camouflage. I tell him that I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I don't understand him. I'm lost in emotions, not sure if I should be sad or angry or relieved. I'm not really surprised. The only thing that would surprise me would be someone who stayed. I knew this would happen, I told him this would happen. I am fantastic. He did see that when I was there. He kept saying, I want to kiss you, please stay. Stay with me, I miss you. Holding my hand and hugging me. Calling me babe. And like the woman I don't want to be, I ate it up. I want to be loved and love in return. The problem is I usually offer love without being loved in return. I allowed myself to be led on. I didn't stay though and I wouldn't let him kiss me because I knew this would happen. So I am angry because I was right. I am angry because he is exactly who I thought he was. But I'm not sad. Embarrassed for being tricked again, pissed that it cost me $350.00 because my car got towed at his shitty apartment that I previously vowed never to go to again, but not sad. An expensive lesson to learn. Next time I would rather just pay the money and hold onto my heart.

The Next Intended Thing

I have been planning this party for weeks. I decided I was going to have a holiday party and it completely consumed me. Planning menus, shopping, baking. All for tonight which turned out less than perfect. I have been so excited. Something to look forward to and focus energy on. I want to love people. I want to make sure they are taken care of. I wanted them to feel included and special. I thought about everyone. What they would want and enjoy. It started earlier today when Boston said he wasn't coming. Actually he didn't say anything. That would out of character. Instead, I heard through Andrew, my gay boyfriend, that he wasn't coming. I planned special beverages just for him. I planned an entire non-alcoholic menu. Just so he would feel loved and respected. I went out of my way to invite Fiona when I knew it was going to make other people uncomfortable. I invited everyone so everyone would feel included and welcome. Instead, they didn't come. Then I got a message from Jay-Z that he wanted to come but felt awkward. He didn't want to confuse things between us. I didn't realize there were things to confuse. He can't come because he doesn't trust himself and he is confused. If I have to hear about his f*cking confusion one more f*cking time, I swear. It's like Buzz and the damn writing on the wall. Literally. He talked about it for months. The things he said when he thought it was me still echo in my dreams of him. He was mean when he wanted to be. Then when he finally got it through his head that I don't make it a habit to drive all over Oregon writing hurtful things on bathroom stalls about him, he was obsessed with talking about who it could have been. I blamed friends and went along with his delusion only because it kept him from blaming me. Then he started on why wasn't I a better woman. Why hadn't I gone in a sandpapered it off the stall walls in Silverton. He talked about it for months. I finally gave up, drove to Silverton, stuck some sandpaper in my purse, snuck into the restroom, and sandpapered it off only so I didn't have to hear about it anymore. I didn't tell anyone I had done it. I was so embarrassed. I guess I needed to read the writing on the wall. Metaphorically. I told Jay-Z the only confusion was him, I have been fantastic. Do what you want. I just wish if he wasn't going to come he didn't make sure a big dramatic production of it. I'm coming, I'm not, I'm confused. I want to but I just don't know. I probably shouldn't. I was wrapped up in bullshit texts for an hour or more and then by the end so frazzled, confused, and LSE (low self esteem), that I didn't even want to be at my party. I tried to pretend. To be happy and I was for the rest of the night. Then everyone left and I lay on the couch with Mya. Rivers of tears. My heart hurts so bad I can't breathe. I pray for relief. For breath and strength. My lungs rushed full of air and lay there for a few more minutes. I realized even though I have been so mistreated this year. Even though people continue to wound my heart, I am still loving others. All I wanted was to bring joy and support to those closest to me. Christina and I spend more time together than her and her husband. I want her to feel comfortable and supported by me. To trust me. To respect me. I stood up and went to the kitchen. A former good friend told me once to proceed with the next intended thing. I told him what if I don't know what that is? He said just do what's next. So I packed up all the crackers and chips. And surveyed the wreckage and realized. This house shows love. The food was eaten. There were cups and bottles everywhere. Mya was asleep on the couch. The house smells of cookies and meatballs. I thought to myself, there is still love here. I am still loved. Even if Jay-Z doesn't, or Boston doesn't, or G doesn't, or Buzz never did, I am loved. Mya is loved. We have friends and family who want to see us. My sister and my niece stopped by and I was telling them what happened and tears sprang to my eyes. My fourteen year old niece said he doesn't deserve you. He may not, but I still want him to. My head hurts and my eyes are swollen from crying. It's time for the next intended thing, rest.