Saying Something

In the middle of watching Say Anything , I realized I was and wasn't over him.

He was, and never would be, a Lloyd Dobbler.  Holding a boom-box in the rain because his girlfriend broke up with him and he wanted her back--nope, definitely not the type.  He'd move on.  Instantly.  He'd have others lined up as soon as Diane handed him the pen and told him to write.  He wouldn't be at a Gas-n-Sip getting advice from the with the guys on a Saturday night, either, 'cause he'd be dialing some girl's phone seeking comfort and an ego stroke.

It's 4:30 a.m. and I'm awake.  I haven't had my coffee yet but I'm enjoying a bowl of Crispix (remember the commercial:  "It's crispy, times two?")

Actually, I'm awake because my daughter is sick, and I checked on her.  I woke her, gave her Motrin, and make her drink water because she's feverish.  I can't sleep when I worry, and I worry a lot anymore about everything. 

It's powerful to be awake this early on my own volution--not because someone decided to call me because they're up and know I'll be accomodating, but because I wanted to be awake.

I'm over feeling inadequate.  When someone doesn't make time for you but has time for others and still calls you in the early a.m. because he knows you care about him, he's using you.  When he feeds you lines that he can't see you month after month because he's ever so busy--and then it's been, oh, eight months and you learn that he indeed found time to hang with apartment complex friends when he was so busy, he's playing you--and never expected you to find out.

I normally know when I'm being used.  Hell, for that fact, I even know when I'm being played. What suprised me is that I allowed it--welcomed it, encouraged it--on some level.  Is it low self-esteem that makes you think that you only deserve crumbs ("Crumbs are better than nothing, right? " Low-self Esteem whispers to a fractured ego.), or is it something else?

He made his choice.  He chose to spend time with the type of person who is stopped for drinking and driving:  immature and selfish.  Drink all you want, but don't risk a bystander's safety because you are foolish enough to drink and drive.  It's a poor choice--and it's not the choice of a responsible woman; I don't feel drinking and driving can be justified on any level.  

The woman is attractive, and probably if you made a comparison between us, the majority of men would go for the sexy divorced mom vs. the frazzled single mom next door.  A dyed blonde who tries too hard trumps a brunette who doesn't try enough.  However, as my daughter astutely pointed out, her boobs sag.  "She should cover those puppies up because they droop."  I hugged her hard and laughed through my tears.  I would have increased her allowance ten-fold for that type of comment if it was in the budget.  Instead, I opted for the more recession-friendly purchase of the Twilight soundtrack. 

Therapy to get over someone who preyed on your low self-esteem:  co-pay $40. 

Hearing your daughter voluntarily diss An Other Woman, priceless.

Rewarding your daughter for her astuteness:  $13 buks for Twilight CD at WalMart. 

What's good about this mom next door (besides the fact that her boobs do not sag, thank you very much) is that she's not immature enough to drink and drive.  She's reliable, dependable...and learning to love herself.

Crumbs are not acceptable.  They're messy and offer just a hint of something--a something that isn't there anymore.  They're residual, leftovers--and so not worth the time or the effort analyzing where the cookie part has gone.

Now that's saying something.