Love and Middle Age 3: The Story of Stupid

In my recent conversations with TAFKAS, he told me stories of his friends and their unrequited loves. And the message that I took from these stories is that you should let people know how you feel when you have the chance. This is a very, very dangerous message for me because I just might do it which, in my case, is the easiest, quickest, safest way to embarrass myself. 

When I was in college, I had a crush on this basketball player and literally wrote him a 4-page letter and enclosed it with a kiss. Well, I didn't actually kiss it. My friend AJ did because my lips were chapped. I then doused the letter in Victoria's Secret body spray before putting the letter on this windshield. Luckily, God woke me up in a panic the next morning and I was able to run outside and retrieve it. THANK GOD! If he would have gotten that letter I have no doubt that he would have HUMILIATED ME! I would have had to move back to Atlanta and live under an alias. 

Then there was the Sigma that I wrote an erotic poem for. I read the poem to a couple of my co-workers and they gave me positive feedback which should have been my first clue that I was spearheading into a no-bueno situation. Luckily, Tortilla was there to bring me back to life, back to reality. "Don't message this to him. Don't," she said in a very stern voice which was odd, because her voice is usually so sweet that it sometimes sounds like she is singing when she talks. "If you ever get the urge to send this to him, send it to me, and I will respond like I am him, okay? Promise?" I promised, and again thanked God for having good friends. 

And then there are these two men at my church, I will call them Thing 1 and Thing 2. The Things are so nice to me and they love God and they are both hot in their own way. When I talk to them it is very, very difficult not to kiss them. This should tell you how hard I am crushin', because I think that kissing is disgusting! "Don't kiss him", my friend Ken said about one of the guys. I didn't tell her about the other one because I assumed the response would be the same. Again, thank God for good friends. 

But of late, I have been depressed, hungry, tired, sad, alone, and feeling like I am on an island. All of these things are the recipe for me doing something potentially stupid. I mean 4-page letter kind of stupid. Today I fell asleep while I was working and dreamed that I was making out with new crush (Do you see how kissing of some sort is usually the foreshadowing to these crises?) at my dead Great-Grandmother's house. It felt like I was really there! Family Matters was on the TV. Nana loved that show! This is not good because I believe that dreams have meaning...I am just not equipped to tell you what they are. If I had to guess what this dream was telling me, it would be that my deceased Great-Grandma was on board with me reaching out to this man that I don't really know and who doesn't know me. My inner me, which is consistently wrong, is telling me to reach out to him. 

Y'ALL PLEASE PRAY THAT I CAN MAKE IT TO THERAPY NEXT WEEK WITHOUT MAKING A COMPLETE ASS OF MYSELF!! If I can't get a grip, I will become one of TAFKAS's tragic stories. I am well on my way. 

Don't Speak

In most of my friendships, I feel like I am the chaser. I am the one that calls and checks in and sees how everyone is doing. I like talking on the phone and catching up, but everyone in my life is busy with their kids, relationships, and work, so they don't be having time like that to chat which, I'm going to be honest, makes me sad. I feel like I am by myself all the time, most likely because I am. But I have grown tired of being the one always reaching out. It makes me feel stupid and like a nuisance. So recently I decided to just leave folks alone until someone calls me. My biggest fear was confirmed: no one missed me. Sigh. I'm so tired of feeling like my feelings are hurt all the time. Tired of solitude. It all just makes me want to lay down someplace. Don't worry ya'll. I start therapy again next week. 

Taking A Knee

By the grace of God, I have been an overweight person that never had issues with their knees...until recently. 

At the beginning of the year, I decided to become more active. I lounge around my house like a cat and move as little as possible. So, coupled with my meal prepping (which has been awful), I decided to try to be more mobile. BIG MISTAKE! Not long after this decision, my right knee started to act up. I feel like I'm having a flashback! During the pandemic, this Delta I went to college with who was way skinnier and healthier than me up and died out of nowhere. This scared me to the point that I vowed to do more water aerobics. After my first day back in the pool, I woke up the next day feeling like my right leg was about to pop off. I had pulled my hip flexor, and for months, I was hobbling around the house in tears. Since I am uninsured, I just tried to nurse myself back to health with a delicate mixture of Bio Freeze, Tigar Balm, a hot water bottle, and Ibuprofen. It was the worse time of my life. I am now seeing a pattern: exercise = injury. But I have to get moving, so I have just been dancing on my stomach while listening to bounce music with my FitBit on. Just so you know, twerking on your stomach to "Shake It Like A Dog" by Kane and Abel on repeat will burn you a good 500+ calories easy. 

Anywho, I do not do well with pain or discomfort. I have been sleeping extra still as to not upset my knee, which has been both painful and uncomfortable. 

Thinking back on how this all started, I have to blame my clumsy nephew. He came in my room to get something and fell on my already tweaking knee with the full force of his 50+ pounds. I screamed and he ran out of the room. Now, here we are. 

Luckily, I can still get up and move, but I do so slowly, scared to upset my knee, which is now running the show. I creep around my own knee like it's a sleeping baby. It really is tiresome and annoying. But at times like this I have been told it is best to count your blessings, which I'm scared to do. I don't want to injure a finger. 

VDay the Hard Way

By the grace of God, I made it out of another Valentine's season alive. 

What a nightmare. What a f*&king nightmare, as most of life is for the terminally single. 

I made the mistake that I make every year, which is trying to combat the horrors of Valentine's Day with a positive attitude. Bad. Idea. There is no way to combat VDay! It's like a long, brutal period cramp. You just have to grit your teeth and get through it without losing it and ripping out your own uterus with your bare hands.  

The BS started as soon as I put on my Positive Patty Valentine's Day hat. I decided to organize a Galentine's Day/Gift Exchange to try to get ahead of the inevitable VDay depression. I was actually excited! The person I chose in the exchange is really nice and I was eager to get her something cute and festive. The Galentine's party turned out nice and everyone had a good time except me of course. As it usually goes with every gift exchange I have participated in since Girl Scouts, I was the only person that didn't get a gift. I guess no one picked my name or the person who did just didn't care. YAY! 

So the Galentine's celebration was all the proof needed that Valentine's Day was going to be a no-bueno situation. Yet I chose to power on, RSVPing to go to the single's mixer at my church. I wasn't going to go, but I had ordered these beautiful velvet heart earrings and as we all know, once earrings have been ordered, you have to go! And to my surprise, the event was beautiful. The single men at the church organized it and it was awesome. There was music and cocktails and food and entertainment. But who had a panic attack and had to go home before the party really got started? THIS GUY! I spent the rest of the night crying that good cry where your head hurts and you end up feeling hungry and like you are going to gag at the same time. I called Winfrey and sobbed in her ear until I was sure that I really was going to puke. It was the type of magical night that all girls dream of. 

Yet the finale was the actual Valentine's Day, as it always is. I found myself spending a large part of the day daydreaming about all the unrequited love I have experienced in my life while laying silently on the floor, staring into space. Ah, good times. 

An Aunty at my church challenged me to reflect on how I can make Valentine's Day a more positive experience. I told her the only thing I could honestly think of, which was taking enough sleeping pills to keep me asleep from February 11-February 16. She told me to pray about it🙄. And honestly, I do owe God a shoutout. Somehow, I was able to bypass all the engagement announcements and "look at what he got me" social media posts, and we can all agree that was a blessing. 

Well, until next year.