what i am realizing

in response to a friend's query: where are you jen?

i am realizing that...
compromise does not mean sacrificing your dreams.
i am living in a state that i only really enjoy every third day.

broken promises really are lies.
i lived for the first 18 years of my life with a man who smoked (and still smokes.) i don't want another 18 year battle that ends in the same defeat. i love my father less for his smoking. (sorry, but it's true.) it's hard to love a person who is willingly killing themselves. i dread the idea of my dad dieing of lung cancer. it baffles me that fred could smoke after watching lung cancer kill his dad.

i want someone who will hold my hand in public.
who is as active or more active than me.
who is interested in exploring ideas.
who enjoys foreign films.
who likes a wide range of music & isn't pidgeon holed into one genre or style
who enjoys dancing.
who camps and hikes and fishes.
who writes and is intoxicated by words.
who is a bit silly sometimes.
who lingers outside just to feel the rain.

i feel very guilty because i am not describing the man with whom i live. a man who is kind, gentle, generous, and giving.
a man, i love...
but i don't believe that love means becoming someone else
or letting the other person steer your life
or stuffing your feelings of frustration inside you.

i believe that love strengthens you.
i am feeling alone. i feel as though my dreams are sometimes seen as those of a foolish child... that i'll somehow get over them.

i feel guilty because i can not stay.
i feel guilty because i have not intention of telling him until i am ready to leave.

i am going to be incredibly selfish.
i am a bitch.
why?
i want to use up my vacation time.
i want to catch up on my bills.
i want to get my things seperated from his.
i want to throw out my junk so that i own less CRAP! (like Monk)
i want toby to be better potty trained.

i want a place to live for the next few months while i prepare to leap back into a solo life. a life where i am plotting my own path.

i cannot bring myself to tell him. i am not ready to leave.

i feel very conflicted doing this and yet,
part of me feels like: shouldn't he realize that i am unhappy?
hasn't he noticed that i am less of me?
doesn't he realize that we are in limbo?

i've talked to a few close friends about this conflict/decision.

maggie- is getting the full flavour by reading this. (feel free to post a comment)

my mom, theresa- has agreed with my decison to stay and prepare
but when the time comes, she'll help me

amy- has been very supportive

lance- is going to talk to me on wednesday to give me the guy's perspective (and no, i am not leaving fred for lance. leaving fred would mean being single and moving away from here.)

at work, i confide in lutheran laura: she has told me for quite awhile that fred is not committed enough to our relationship.
i've also let an employee know that my management position might be opening up in the next year (but that it's not definite. she's a sweet quiet girl who does not gossip.)

i am planning on telling monk but i am afraid that he'll call me on being a bitch. there's nothing like having an ex- call you on something like that, eh?

see, i don't keep my own secrets.

i feel an off mix of relief and sickness. i feel relieved because in my gut, i think that i'd made this decison but haven't acted on it out of fear, not a fear of being single, but rather, i fear of leaving too soon.
ironically, i stayed too long.

sci-fi and religious reading

I did not want to wake up this morning. Dreams were pouring over my consciousness like a drug.

A science fiction dream- I vaguely remember telling Fred in a semi-wakeful state, "I dreamt that I tore a whole in the fabric of the time- space continuum."
the bits and fragments I remember- time travel gone awry.
I return home to find a half eaten sandwich on the stove. I am eating the same sandwich, chocolate frosting on white bread. I linger too long... something feels very wrong. Someone is walking in the door. It's me eating the same sandwich. The other versions of me have killed each other. How am I going to stop this 'Me' from killing 'me'?

It's early afternoon. My mind feels hazy.

I spent most of the morning reading a book about a poet turned religious oblate. She reminds me of me: striving for intellectual acceptance, wanting to find the divine nature, a bit of a solipsist (not in the strict definition: The theory or view that the self is the only reality... she couches the discussion in self-referential terms. For example, she states "the liturgy is poetry." She seeks out poetry in everything spiritual. She defines herself as a poet and her life as poetry. Therefore, she see herself in all things.)

I am drinking coffee.