I have a notebook … lavender, spiral bound, 5 x 8. It has two sections, divided by pocketed manila cardstock. In this notebook I keep everything. The first three pages are things I want to accomplish, dreams of sorts, like learn to speak Italian, practice being ambidextrous, take Salsa lessons … things I hope to accomplish someday. In the, almost, year I have had the notebook I have yet to cross one off yet the list keeps growing … I have sectioned off extra pages.
It also has menus and recipes, like one for a desert so scrumptious it should be illegal. Ideas for crafts, tips for decorating my surroundings on a budget, advice on makeup application from experts, chemicals to watch out for when purchasing shampoo and household cleanser.
The middle half holds appointments and to-dos. I try to keep a running list from day to day, adding and subtracting. All tasks go in to a calendar I keep on the computer that reminds me when I wake up what needs to be done that day and when the best time to accomplish these things, if not scheduled, would be.
The last half is full of unfinished letters … letters to my, nearly, ex-boyfriend. Telling him everything under the sun. He never sees this. I don’t know why because he seems to be a snoop in every other way. He creeps in to my email and my Facebook, writing my friends as if he were me. He hasn’t done this very recently but he has in the past.
Ours has been a strange relationship at best. I have been with him for way too close to two years. He has not been present for most of it or shall I say, he has been someone else. Each page documents another part of my jaded life. How I went from an extremely independent single mother of two, with a gorgeous five bedroom home, and an inspired career and a life envied by others, tight knit circle of friends and close family ties, I was full of life and optimism. I took dance and painted, I had a wonderful creative streak. I looked at life as an adventure. I didn’t date much, got out of a long relationship with a man that was no where near serious and we parted as friends. I was relatively naive when it comes to the dynamics of a relationship and was just after partners in crime. My kids were happy and well-adjusted so I was not searching for the “father figure” and didn’t think I needed a man in my life, or theirs.
But this was my past life, now I am bitter and paranoid, I live in a tiny two bedroom just down the street from “J” I am controlled and have dug a hole so deep I can not find a way out of. I am unemployed with no real prospects and am too frightened to meet new people because I am scared at what they might discover. I feel isolated and very lonely, hollow.
It all started September 2007. I created a networking page to keep a cyber-eye on my budding teenagers. I invited and found a lot of my friends on there. Happily chatted with some new and interesting people in my spare time. Nothing profound, just foolish. One day there was an interesting message popped up in my inbox. “Nice pix, would like to chat, write me back.” Intrigued by the simplicity I clicked on his page. Nice looking man, military, clean cut, active according the pix, swimming pools, hiking, fishing. So I sent a message back, simply “hi” would be both the subject line and body. Not creative but I didn’t think much about it.
