I want crazy

Once upon a time in a galaxy far away I was a normal girl. Before I had loved and lost. I don’t want to give the wrong impression. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s not a story of boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. This is the tale of a true love unrequited. A tale of hope turned to bitterness that could not be removed. That’s not to say there weren’t fairytale moments, it’s most definitely the story of my prince. My Romeo if you will. That story is much more aligned.. star crossed lovers who upon giving into their love reach their demise. I don’t mean to discourage you from reading the story, I would actually recommend it. Not just because it comes from my heart or because I feel like it’s the best writing of my life, but because sometimes we need to feel pain to understand happiness. We need to know that no matter how badly we want something in life, doesn’t mean it’s the right course. We can’t always depend on the love story that ends with the glass slipper or the kiss that brings you back from the dead. Sometimes we need to experience the love story that prepares our hearts for reality. Sometimes preparation is our best defense. So I willingly invite you to come on this journey with me. A journey of heartache and self-actualization. I volunteer to share my pain for your entertainment and hopefully give some insight. I can’t promise you’ll like it. I can’t promise you’ll learn from it. I can promise that what you will read comes from the utmost truth of my inner being. That I will do everything in my power to put enough finesse in my words to show the passion, anger, love, frustration defeat and release that my one true love has brought me. I can promise that I will do so from a place of peace and earnest conviction and not from a place of hurt and desolation. So.. if you’re ready, hold on tight. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. I walked into that building just as I had every day for 6 years. I loved my job. I loved the people I worked with. So many ups and downs happened in that building. I started out at 19 years old with no knowledge of myself or the world. I had gotten into a fight with my dad over a long distance bill(because of a boy) and decided I had to take the first job I could find that would let me move out of his house. And of course pay the bill. I didn’t expect to stay for any length of time; this job was something I would do until I found what my true calling was. Within three months I knew that my career had started and that I would someday be someone in this place. Twelve years later I still haven’t reached that point, but it’s something I still aspire to. I moved up quickly in the building and after paying my dues for the first year I was promoted to management where I have sat ever since. There was nothing special about that day. I felt my best inside those walls and I started my work day with the same feelings of ambition and motivation every day. I had a definite dedication to my business as well as to those I supported and those who supported me. I got the work day started and went out to my first break on the patio. I noticed a small group of people surrounding a tall red headed face I hadn’t seen before. It was probably the following that got my attention, yet it was the tone in his voice that kept it. Sitting here writing that, I don’t think I ever told him that. I don’t think I ever told him that his voice was like music to me. Even the harshest words had the gentlest effect when he was the one speaking. Anyhow.. I couldn’t tell you what he was saying or what he was talking about that day but I can tell you that I knew I could listen to that voice for hours on end. It was one of those voices that mellows you out. Definitely a voice that would be successful in a call center. Definitely a voice that would be successful with the ladies. I sat there on the bench resting my head against the wall and listened. I remember hearing bits and pieces about training. That would explain why I didn’t know who this character was, he was new to the site. In this business people come and go. I’m sure that for every person who has come into this place and left their mark on my life another 100 have come and gone without any notice at all. None have had the impact that he has. Not by association or an active role in my life. Certainly not by voice alone. I listened from a distance for a while before I ever had the need to introduce myself. This is even more interesting because the concept of distance has played a very integral part in our relationship to date. It’s a term I have become increasingly aware of and devastatingly comfortable with. It bothers me that I can’t tell you the first encounter we had. I’m sure it was work related as our relationship was for a very long time. Both of us were already in personally committed situations and there was no need or opportunity for our lives outside of the building to mix. I can’t even tell you the moment I would say we went from colleagues to friends. It just happened, like it was meant to be that way. You would think that with all the tiny details that I remember about the past five years that I would remember both of these moments more clearly. I’m sure that the circumstances in my life at the time overwhelmed something that seemed so innocent and nonchalant at the time. I was dealing with some very delicate parts of my life. My son was still young and I wanted to make sure that I made all the right choices for him. At the time I was in a relationship that I thought I would spend the rest of my life in. It wasn’t for another three years that I would learn the damage this relationship had on my personal growth, my growth as a mother and this love story in particular. See, I’m that kind of person. Once I have committed myself to something, come rain or shine I’m going to hold strong because it’s what I said I would do. I’m starting to learn that maybe that isn’t the best life practice to have. I’m coming to terms with the idea that although we may commit to something at a given moment, things change and sometimes what we’ve committed to doesn’t even exist anymore. If I go much farther into that, I’m going to ruin the story.. that’s something else I have a real knack for.. but I digress. One of the first things I noticed about him, other than his voice, was his arrogance. That is something that has held true through the years and oddly enough one of the things I love the most about him. He has strengths that I always wish I had. Someone asked me the other day if I could have any super power what it would be. At the time I said time travel.. given the current state of my life that made perfect sense. If I was to answer that question now I would say self-confidence. That’s not a super power? I would beg to differ. Show me an average person who has a good grasp on self-confidence. The only people I can think of in my life that are capable of this I would most definitely deem super heroes. To have the ability to believe in myself and my character traits regardless of circumstance or criticism is something I definitely wish I had learned from him. His knowledge of himself was rarely faltering. I wish I could say never faltering. That might change the way this story was written. I feel like I should take the time to explain something here now that I’ve gotten far enough into it. Generally in writing when a character isn’t given a name it’s because they are not important enough to be given one. Main characters are generally names by their character flaws. Irrelevant characters are given roles but never given names. I have yet to give a name to my main character. This is not because of a lack of importance but instead because of over importance. I feel like it’s necessary to change the names to protect the innocent(or the guilty as he so aptly added), but I just can’t call him by any other name. I sat here for over an hour trying to think of a way to give him a name that would represent all he was to me. All he is to me. I know Shakespeare taught me that the name doesn’t hold the significance, but I just can’t seem to do it. He is who is he. For me to call him anything else makes the story fictional on some level and I just can’t do that. For this reason he may never have a name. I find peace with that in knowing that if by any chance he really does read this, he will know who he is. I’ve wrecked my brain trying to remember all of the little details. I can get bits and pieces. I remember there being a conversation on the patio about what we all though was the best movie of all time. I placed myself in this conversation as I have an affinity towards movies. I told him that I believed Fight Club was the best movie of all time. When he asked me why I told him I had already said too much and that I wasn’t interested in breaking the rules further. That’s the first time I saw that laugh with the wrinkle in his nose. I made it a point after that to see if I could get him to laugh like that. He’s always been a generally happy guy but when you saw that wrinkle you knew that the laugh was sincere. I remember seeing that today and the effects it had on me. Not the effects I was used to. But again I seem to be getting ahead of myself.