Desire slowly smoking…

A lot has happened in the past few years. A lot has happened in the last several months.

I’m living back in Portland now, in a small, windowless bedroom that will be perfect for this summer because it will remain dark and cool on days when I need to sleep in for work that night. It’s a step in the right direction. I have landlords I seldom see and a downstairs roommate who is gone for long stretches of time, and whom I’ve yet to meet. It’s not ideal, but for now, it’s workable.

I’m single. I have friends and ways to stave off the loneliness, but it’s always weird for me when I’m not particularly pining for anyone and I don’t have a partner. I don’t know what to do with my energy if I’m not trying to make a relationship work or convince someone to love me.

There is this hot guy who also works for Radio Cab, and I’m trying to screw up the nerve to ask him out for coffee sometime. I feel like a teenaged girl around him, tripping over my feet and unable to speak or look him in the eye. It’s stupid and sort of wonderful. I found out a bit about him, and realized he’s like SUPER COOL and way out of my league, and that made me sort of… reevaluate. I made a decision.

I am going to get my life to a point where I feel proud of where I am, I’m going to get my body in a stronger and healthier condition, I’m going to seek treatment for my various psychiatric concerns, and I am going to become awesome enough that this guy would be a goddamned fool not to want to date me. And then, if he doesn’t want to date me, he’s a damned fool and not worth my time. Also, I’ll be awesome.

I’m well on my way.

I had dinner with an friend tonight, someone I had a brief relationship with a coupla years back. We hadn’t hung out in about a year because of stupid life stuff. He brought up our breakup in reference to something I’d said on this blog, wondering if it was something that had scarred me. I told him that it hadn’t, and in the process of thinking about WHY NOT, I realized something:

This past year-or-so has been so chaotic, so full of loss and madness and sadness and heartbreak and losing myself, that I really don’t have space in my head anymore to hold on to old hurts. Am I pissed off about a relationship that ended for the right reasons almost two years ago? No, I am not. I’m not mad at Chris, or Cody (who keeps apologizing for things I let go of months ago.) I no longer pine for a certain someone I pined after for years. I let it go. I had to. It was time.

I’m still shaky, still insecure and undecided, still mentally illish, still a bit fatter than I’d like to be. But I’m working, and I have a safe place to live, and I’m striving for better things. It’s not all great, some of it isn’t even good, but on the whole, I’m doing really well because I’m doing so much better than I was six months ago.

And for the moment, that’s enough to keep me going.