Bubbly.
Originally uploaded by Nix Sidhe

I usually feel pretty open about the things in my life. I don't hide much about myself even though it may seem that way. I suppose I just don't offer up information unless someone seems interested or asks directly. Lately though, I've been thinking of the power of secrets. I've been giving serious consideration to pulling in a little further inside of myself.

As a last hurrah I will share a story that relates very much to the point I am in my life right now. Back in the those first winter months of 2001 I moved back here to Pennsylvania from the south. I was leaving not only warm and sunny weather, but I was also walking away from a (most likely) toxic relationship. I was working a construction job with my father and spending most of my time sitting at the harbor, looking out over the murky sea water and sketching. I was reading books and petting my cat. The thing was I was also dating the quality assurance guy for the company we worked for. His name was Randy and we were terribly mismatched for one another. He was this tall blonde, ruddy faced, Southern, sports fan. A true good ol' boy. He was "saved" and talked openly about his faith, oddly enough this is how the whole thing had started.

Out to lunch one day, him in his typical polo shirt, khakis, and running shoes and me in my work clothes and mud all over me. He talked a lot about Christianity. He also loved TN college sports, so he invited me over to his condo to watch a game. I couldn't possibly care less about the game but I was exceptionally lonely so I took him up on it.

He lived on the beach in a rented condo. It was November and freezing cold back home. I was on the beach in rolledup jeans, a tshirt, and no shoes. Bliss. As we walked back to his place from the ocean I turned to look at him and he said, "You don't make things easy do you?" That was it. No explanation. I think I probably just laughed. Nothing is ever easy, if it seems like it is thats because everything has yet to be revealed.

Now here's why he thought things were difficult. He was married and he was almost 10 years older than me. I was 19 at the time and more of a handful than I am now. We went back to his place and he proceeded to try and talk to me about sports and God, neither of which hold my attention. Sitting on his couch in a rented tacky condo on the Carolina shore he kissed me. That's how it started.

I could feel his nervousness pulsing all through him. I have to admit, while I wasn't unaccustomed to having men kiss me, I was a little taken aback. Mostly because 90% of the time he talked about his faith. It escalated from there. He said things like, "Where were you when I was 19?" (To which I had to reply that I was closer to 9 and that it was completely inappropriate.) "I think that God had meant for us to meet one another." I guess the latter statement made him feel better about what he was doing.

He told me he wanted to be with me. That I made him happy. I was exciting and sexy. He would dress me up and take me out to dinner. I made him do juvenile silly things with me to show him how to relax. When February came and I was supposed to move back here. I asked him if he was going to leave his wife, he told me he couldn't. Then he fucked me in the house where my father and I were staying. My father was at work, where Randy was supposed to be. I still remember the look on his face as he turned to leave. It was a mix between regret, relief, and sadness.

I won't lie, I bawled my eyes out. While it wasn't the first instance of "you're the kind of girl I could be infatuated with but not date" it hurt just as much. as any other.

I came back here and found myself in one of the deepest and scariest runs of depression I had experienced. I felt terrible about the world all together. It was also the first time in years that I had thought I was really truly suicidal. Not over the sordid relationship but more about people and life. I really just wanted to die. Not in any sort of dramatic way, but more of a slow slipping away sort of way. Being too depressed to even go out with a bang.

About two months ago I recognized those feelings coming back. I don't sleep. I don't know where my mind is, but having gone through it once I can recognize it.

What I ask is for people who know me to be patient with me. I feel like I'm sinking, but I realize it. Just hold out for me.