I put out distress calls, god knows I do.
I spent a long time alone in my head believing myself to be strange and unworthy.
Spent that exact amount of time toning myself down and trying to figure out what everyone wanted me to be. Like wearing costumes that didn’t fit. They pinched, itched and hurt.
I think I am naked now.
I found my people and came home to them. We are naked often, stripped bare, just being us.
And sometimes, the me that I am, is a sad girl, a scared girl, I don’t understand the actions of others. Especially those who seek to hurt, maim and manipulate me and mine.
Still, I go out and I try to live my life. I bump into people with sharp edges, I try to love them anyway and I bleed.
If it’s bad enough, I cry out and always, without fail, someone from my village comes running with bandages.
Only makes sense that my heart and ear is also fine-tuned to hear others crying out in the wilderness.
A girl said upon the Facebook “I don’t think I should be allowed out in public today.”
Sounds exactly like me 6 weeks ago.
My first instinct? Go get her and take her home. Make a sushi roll outta her and take it from there.
Instead I messaged and said “I’m around if you need an ear and a coffee.”
You see, we’ve only met twice in person. Once at a photoshoot covered in fake blood and once at the launch party for the calendar that said photoshoot was for. https://www.facebook.com/deadglamourgirlz/?fref=ts
She was drunky and I got her car where it needed to be.
She is cute when she is drunky, and next level sex kitten when she is in front of a camera.
Good times. Not enough to form a lasting bond, but enough that I was intrigued by her.
And then there was the distress call I couldn’t ignore.
We agreed on tacos the next Tuesday.
I told her she is a juxtaposition to me. A chameleon, and I find her fascinating and wonderful. Because at her core she is sweet, kind, smart and a total dork. Kinda like me. Except she has the switch inside of her that turns her brave ALL the way up in a way I have not learned yet.
That day her switch was turned off. Or maybe it wasn’t. It took guts to sit across from a relative stranger and show the absolute shit hand of cards she has been dealt lately. Her bottom lip quivered and I saw tears that never made it out of her eyes, but they were there, hovering, waiting.
The things we talked about are no one’s business. This is my blog and my space. If I could out my friends and their shenanigans, I would have a million followers just for the Cara Show alone.
But one thing she said, I had an immediate counter for. I had real life proof that what she wanted wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
I was a bit late for lunch, for 2 reasons.
A real estate agent and the big blue thingee.
I got stuck waiting for my apartment to be shown, they were late.
Aaaand…Jason and I were trying to make our relationship Facebook official and we couldn’t get the big blue thingee to work. This one.
One of the reasons the girl sitting across from me eating tacos was sad is because she had been with someone for several months and he wouldn’t claim her on social media.
I know right now that some of you are inclined to believe that it’s not a big deal. And if that is your opinion, more power to you. I am not here to judge. I have said before my relationship status was on mute for 5 years.
The only other long distance relationship I had with a semi public figure/writer…it was important to him to be anonymous, so I kept his name like a secret in my mouth. Even though I could bury him, I wouldn’t, I didn’t and I won’t. It’s important that he is safe, even after everything.
It’s no different than some people like holding hands in public, some don’t. Young Un hated it and I knew it. He knew I loved it so sometimes he would, for me. And that was enough, more than enough actually.
It was important to her. So it is valid. She is valid. She is worthy of any gesture that adds comfort to her. Her partner, if he is to be called that, should have acknowledged this BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT A PARTNERSHIP IS. It’s not a failing on her part, it is something simple that she wanted and was within his power to give to her. But he chose not to and thereby didn’t chose her.
Now she is free to find someone who loves the way she loves.
I understand completely. I don’t want to be a secret either, nor does Jason.
In my relationship with him, it is important to US. Doesn’t matter what his/my/our reasons are. I want to be with a hand holder. I want to be held and claimed and celebrated. And it isn’t some bullshit girly fairy tale shit that doesn’t exist. It does. I am proud of my man and proud to be his, and the world knows it.
We are both writers, we both spill our guts. And I have a feeling that we will show the world what is possible when it comes to love via the vast ocean of the internet.
When we are out in public there is no doubt that I belong to him. My body language screams it.
We finally figured out the riddle of the big blue thingee.
Jason has claimed me, over and over. Written pieces and articles about me, in which he calls me Sarah. And my name spoken by him in his sweet southern drawl is about the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.