lonliness | MissyRambles

“He’s not your prince charming if he doesn’t make sure you know that you’re his princess.”
― Demi Lovato

Dear Girl from the Bar,

I’m sure you don’t remember me. But I certainly remember you. In fact, I don’t think a day has gone by since I saw you over a month ago that you haven’t crossed my mind.

“Saw you?” Hmmm. That’s probably not the right term. “Stalked you” might be more like it. I could not stop watching you. You commanded my attention and it has taken me weeks to figure out why that is. That’s why I’m writing you this letter today.

I’m sure you didn’t notice me. I was the girl sitting with the other wives/girlfriends of the band. We weren’t typical attendees of this particular bar, so we sort of grouped together in our little corner – just there to watch the guys in our lives do what they love. But I couldn’t help but notice you. I’m not sure at what point it was that you caught my attention exactly. I just know that at some time during the night, I started watching you paying an awful lot of attention to some guy.

Now, see, I’m a people watcher. When I first noticed this attention you were giving this guy, I assumed you were a couple. Why wouldn’t I? You were draped across him, rubbing his back, standing right next to him…things like that. But the more I watched, the more I started to see that my initial assumption was incorrect.

This guy just flat out didn’t like you.

I know that may sound harsh, but I have to call it like I see it. The more you touched him, the more he pulled away. The more you asked him to dance, the more he seemed to not want to. You would practically barge your way into his line of sight, and he would physically turn his body so that he wasn’t looking at you.

Now, I know that sometimes it’s easier to see things when you’re “out of the box” so to speak. I know that maybe my vantage point called for a better view than yours, but surely you couldn’t have been entirely immune to this treatment. Could you?

I even saw you kiss him at one point, for Heaven’s sake. The guy was completely taken aback. By this point, you had become a laughing stock among he and his friends. Once you turned your back to him, he made a show of wiping the kiss off of his face and laughing with the guys about it. I don’t know how else to tell you this, other than to just come out and say it…

You made an absolute fool of yourself.

Now, why have you stayed on my mind? Why have I thought of you almost daily since that night? Why did your embarrassing scenario strike such a chord with me?

Oh, I know why.

Lord, honey, I’ve been there. I’ve soooo been there.

Now, granted, I’ve never planted a kiss on a stranger at a bar, per se. And I suppose I’ve never exactly thrown myself at a guy I barely know. But you know what I have done?

Stayed somewhere I wasn’t wanted.

I have hung around in relationships way past their expiration date. And why? Because I was idiot. Like you. (No offense.) I thought if I just tried a little harder, maybe he’d finally see me. You know? If I just did this a little better, or that a little better, maybe then he’d finally realize I was worthy of his attention. Of his affection. But you know what?

It never worked. Not once.

I wonder what happened when you got home. Did you cry? Did you wonder what you did wrong? Did you wonder what’s wrong with you? Oh yeah, been there. I’ve looked at myself in the mirror with such confusion and hatred before that it was scary. I’ve picked myself apart…my fuzzy curly hair, my flawed complexion, my crooked teeth. I’ve yelled at myself for being too outspoken, too demanding, too talkative. Too this. Too that. I’ve been more mean to me than anyone else ever has. And why did I do that?

Because some guy didn’t like me.

Some stupid, inconsequential guy. I let a stranger’s value of me replace my own value of myself. I adopted their view of me and replaced it for my own.

What an idiot I was. What an idiot you are.

Anyway. I know you won’t see this. I know you don’t remember me. But again, I just wanted to let you know that you’re on my mind. I wanted to let you know that for a moment, our lives crossed, and I saw myself in your defeat. You reminded me of how I never want to feel again. You reminded me of how ridiculous it is to place my worth in someone else’s hands.

You reminded me that when I’m loved, I’ll know it. I won’t have to chase it. It will chase me.

And better yet, you reminded me that the real love I should be worried about – is the love I have for myself.

Thank you for crossing my path. I hope you learn to love yourself one day too.

Love,

One Who Gets It

[P.S. You are waaaaay too good for that guy. He was a dork.]

***

“When your self-worth goes up, your net worth goes up with it.”
– Mark Victor Hansen

“We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them.”
– Christian Nestell Bovee

I want to tell you a story about a dog.

And it’s not just any dog, mind you. I’d like you to meet my boyfriend Richard’s sweet little german shepherd, Lucy. Isn’t she the cutest little booger? So incredibly sweet. So lovable. So happy. And so…*ahhem*…um, how shall I say this?…unintelligent? Heh. Bless her sweet little heart, she’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the box. But she sure makes up for it in sweetness though, that’s for sure. Well, I have a story about one of Lucy’s recent…let’s just say mental lapses…that I thought was pretty interesting.

Now Lucy is a little over a year old and, all her life, has been taught that she is NOT to come in the house. She’s an outside dog, and that’s always been perfectly fine with her. Well….now here we are faced with this awful winter we’ve been having, so we decided to try to bend the rules a little. With sub-zero temps and wind chills to boot, it was time to let Lucy in the house.

Heh. WRONG.

Lucy was having NONE of that. You don’t teach a dog not to come in the house and then invite them in. No way, not Miss Lucy. Her daddy said a long time ago that she wasn’t supposed to be in the house and that was that, by gosh. We cajoled, we pushed, we pulled, we begged…but she wasn’t budging.

So, on to Plan B.

Richard, being the sweetheart that he is, decided that he couldn’t bear knowing that all she was going to have as shelter would be a drafty garage. Yes, it would block the worst of the wind, but it still wasn’t all that toasty in there. So, he rigged up a little space heater for her right next to her dog bed. That way, she would at least feel the heat from it as long as she stayed in her bed for the night. Problem solved. We’re going on a few months of this space heater warmth for Lucy on these cold winter nights and all has been working just fine, thank you.

Until yesterday, that is.

*sigh*

Now, I mentioned that Lucy is a sweet little thing right? Sooooo sweet. Smart? Eh. Notsomuch.

I left early in the morning for work and Richard was close behind. We both had very long days yesterday, consisting of real estate work here and there and followed up by rehearsal (for me) and sound work (for him) at the theatre until late in the evening. And then, after topping the night off with a quick bite to eat and a glass of wine or two at our favorite restaurant, we finally made our way back home. And what did we find when we got there?

Lucy. In the garage.

Stuck.

And by “stuck,” let me explain. This space heater that I described to you is a long, low-to-the-ground type. It resembles a baseboard heater somewhat. Before Richard had left for the day, he went into the garage through the open door (on the opposite side of the heater) and Lucy had followed him in. As he was leaving, he shut the garage door behind him with Lucy still inside, knowing that it was ok to do so since Lucy could easily go out the side door that we always keep open for her. Well, what he didn’t realize, was that the heater (which was not on, by the way) had been pushed to the side just slightly and was now…um…”blocking” Lucy’s path to the side door.

Now, I mentioned this heater is low to the ground, right? And by low to the ground, I mean probably 6 inches. Tops. So this 6-inch tall non-functioning space heater stood between Lucy and the side door of freedom.

It took us a minute to realize what the problem was once we got home. I was the first to arrive and was shocked that Lucy didn’t come flying to me with her tail flapping as she always does. I heard her whining in the garage, but she wouldn’t come to me. I walked a little further in and saw that she was just standing there. That’s it. Just standing there looking at me. (And crying, the poor little thing.)

So, I called to her. “Come here, Lucy. Come here, girl.”

Still. Nothing.

That’s when I realized that she was refusing to step across the little heater. I walked over and simply pushed the heater a few inches to the side, and let me tell you – you would not believe the happiness that burst forth from that sweet little dog. She bolted out of that garage, went straight to the yard to ‘take care of some overdue business,’ and then came bounding back to me for her “Hello, I’m glad you’re home, I love you, I love you, I love you” kisses.

When Richard got home, we laughed about that silly dog being “stuck” in the garage, all because she refused to step across the heater. But then the more we talked about it, the more we realized that, although the heater wasn’t hot at the moment, Lucy must have learned (the hard way, I’m guessing) that that heater could be hot. So, she figured it was best to play it safe. Even if it meant imprisonment.

Now, you guys realize I’m a writer right? And one thing I’ve noticed about we writers…we simply cannot see a situation in only a literal sense. Oh no – there is always a deeper meaning to just about everything. This time was no exception.

I thought about poor sweet Lucy and wondered how many times I’ve done that myself. How many times have I chosen imprisonment and sacrificed my freedom, simply because I was afraid to attempt something that may have hurt me in the past? And how many times was that thing that I thought was going to hurt me, simply just there for my benefit and not going to hurt me at all? And how many times have I, due to being ignorant to the harmlessness of the obstacle (simply because I was not willing to test it out), therefore remained in the tiny, lonely, confined space of my own making?

And while we’re on the subject – how many times have you done that?

Pretty dumb, isn’t it?

So, yes, maybe this was just one instance of a not-so-smart doggy getting stuck in a garage behind a heater. Or…

Or.

Maybe this was one of those lessons that life puts in front of you all of the time…if you’ll just take a moment to stop and notice it.

I don’t know about you, but I sure do know that Lucy was pretty darn happy to be free. Maybe you should give freedom a try yourself.