my fickle mind.

being cheated on time after another that changes the way I look at my life. I know this seems slightly crazy to some people, but I really believe in the zodiac. I realize the descriptions of our signs and our traits comes in as varied interpretation as there are people on this planet. but I do honestly believe that they are very accurate character traits that have an underlying pattern. I sincerely believe this, and for the past four years that I have actually paid any attention to them, they have shown to be quite valid.

there are a lot of things I have always known about my self, being a fish, and I’ve always, since child, been an apt pupil of what my sign represents. recently I have been doing some deeper reading about myself and my sign. I feel like I have found something I really didn’t want to be true. as intuitive as I am, when it comes to affairs of the heart I’ve always been blind as a bat. I now understand and see, that my life is, always might be, a string of failed relationships and falling for the wrong man.

so. for a few years I have wanted nothing more than to marry and to have a kid. to start a family. I have been damn near desperate to get on with having a kid, at least to have that plan in place. suddenly I made it over some kind of a hump. maybe I don’t want to have a kid after all? I really want to have the experience of being a mom, but I have a really hard time accepting the fact that I would have to give up my freedom for several years. in fact, seeing that I am 34 now, it’d pretty much mean giving up my freedom for the rest of my adult life. do I seriously think I’d have what it takes to withstand that? me; a person who is utterly spoiled with zero authority figure in my life and a fraction of the responsibility most people have in their lives, even in the simple form of a boss and a job. lately I have kinda taken a harder look at my life and myself and wondered if having a kid really is what I want. is it? if it never happened, would it be that bad after all? could I accept, that it never happened after all even if I lived an amazing fulfilled life? will I feel fulfilled without ever becoming a mom?

I feel like my life has finally gotten really good. pretty much since I turned 30. I finally learned some things about myself, like knowing what I need to be happy. the most important thing. rather than just going through my life, I feel like I can finally engage in coordinated efforts of self-indulgence, rather than it’s mindless form. I really want to enjoy this life that I’ve built now. I want to enjoy life with the me I have built, I am excited about it. I’m not so sure I am willing to give it up so quickly now that I’ve found it.

as a part of a lengthy conversation, Ted said to me one night, that he saw how much I enjoyed my freedom, and that’s what made him figure I’d do anything to make sure I wouldn’t get pregrant. his words, though they were tossed out there just as his passing interpretation of how he saw me kinda stuck with me. they’ve come up in thought a couple times since then and have added to my accumulative assumption of the whole. how valuable is my freedom?  how would I combat the responsibilities of motherhood? could I give up skiing for a couple years? is having a child really worth giving up so much about your life you know today?

I have dared to think differently lately and I have been trying it on for size. it doesn’t keep out mosquitoes, nor stars. but I am intrigued by it and it might fit. this is how I change, this is how change comes to me. I taste it a little. see how it feels. I let it develop. I won’t even write about it for a while until I know what to say. I try it on. I take it off. I go back to the store later and buy it. but you all know by now, I will change my mind many times over through the course of the years. or weeks. where ever the wind blows.

they say that after 35-something the odds of you ever finding a husband diminish significantly. or was it 40? I’m starting to realize it’s true. if not for any other reason than the fact that everyone else is just as jaded as I am at this point.

after yet another relationship, I think I am starting to give up the idea that anyone would ever come along and want me enough to want to marry me. I know marriage is a hyped thing, and it’s not so much the institution I am interested in. it’s merely wanting to, at least once in my life, know what it felt like to have someone love you that much, that they could honestly say to me “I choose you”. that’s really all that marriage represents to me. somehow, the fact that no one has ever asked, kinda makes my heart brittle a little. more than ever, I am resolved to the fact that my relationships will always be in turmoil. I will lose my heart many times over to the wrong men in my life time.

I will never find the right person, I will never meet a man who would want to be the father of my child. I will never meet a man that might, left to his own devices, buy me a ring and ask me to marry him. it’s time I accepted that and stopped looking for it, hoping for it. I didn’t even realize how badly I had been searching for just that.

letting it go, feels like a heavy weight has been lifted.

so. I have been thinking. James did his deed and spent the winter begging me to forgive him. it took me a while to understand what my pain was, what part of the deed was I upset by. what I was really angry at and what fueled my sadness? it’s not so much the cheating act alone that I got hung up on, but giving her the arsenal for writing that email, her telling me something he hadn’t. then in turn, what broke the camels back was the phone calls to her over Christmas. again, giving her ammo, making her seem important to him.

really, the problem here is that I can never truly forgive James for the way he thought I could/should be treated.

understanding of myself gets better as I age, but it also gets more complicated. I reiterate how important my time alone is and how badly I need/want my independent life. I enravel in it. it’s what makes me whole and keeps me sane, nothing else ever will. I know now, James was more or less threatened by the aspect of me making new male friends and meeting new people to go skiing with. I didn’t know back then, how much he dragged himself along because he didn’t want some other dude doing it with me. that’s a terrible relationship to live in, for both of us. I always wanted to do big things, he didn’t and didn’t really want me meeting new people to adventure with. let’s face it, he held me back a bit.

I know James is pissed cause he spent his winter trying to win me back. it’s sad he’s not man enough to own up to his choices, face the aftermath and take it like a man. there has been something very juvenile about about these arguments. the stuff about my short comings as a person in our relationship, yeah I get that, you might have something there. all this has made me see what I want in a relationship. it has become clear, that he’s either just much younger than me, or he seriously has a different expectation of relationships. I get that, a lot of people do. there are a lot of things he’s asked me to compromise about who I am recently, not understanding that these are things that I cannot change about myself. he calls it compromise, I would call suicide. he fails to see how the complaints he has about me as a person in our relationship are largely who I am. in my core. most people don’t want someone this independent, who wants to spend time alone and travel. James doesn’t regard a relationship a relationship if we spend 6 months a year apart, it’s not enough for him. what kind of a relationship is that? I call it a good one.

and that’s kinda why I’ve had tremendous respect for Ted. he told me the other night he wishes him and I would end up together, but he also says he has tremendous amount of respect for me and he does not want/try to posses me. it’s such a stark difference to being in a relationship with someone whom I feel like I am the air they breathe. Ted’s never asked me to promise anything, he’s never asked about anything else. and I like that. but at the same time, I know he’s way into me, he’s honest about that. it’s an unusual balance that I am not sure if it’s just Ted and who he is (might be a huge part of it considering where he comes from), or if a large part of it is also in dating an older man. one that has given up such foolish expectations of a another person. whom can respect me the way I am and where I am. not trying to keep me and put me in a bottle, which is what I feel like every person I have ever had a serious relationship with has done, or tried to do. I don’t necessarily blame them for it, I’ve allowed it as I have not understood my perimeters, and theirs. I don’t want all encompassing co-habitation. I don’t want an obsession.

all this brings us back to my conversations with James. there’s a significant rift between our understanding of the circumstance and our communication. recently he told me “can’t you just get over it so we can move on?” what he does not understand is that when he had his affair, it’s not the part about having sex with someone else that broke us up, it was the absolute absence of integrity. he acted like he’d had his affair out of some lack of self control, he just couldn’t help it because he was having such a hard time. he’d decided during this time that I did not love him because I was out living my own life.

and that’s how I lost respect for him. it’s not about forgiveness. there’s nothing to forgive here. I simply lost faith, you can’t change that. it’s not even about losing trust, per se, because I know I can trust his heart, I know his heart and strangely enough, I know it’s true and he’s always been an open book when it comes to that. but what I can’t trust, is that he can be man enough to deal with his emotions by himself, not turning to the nearest pussy when he is having a weak moment. if you’re going to do it, than do it with intention, plan it, do it, use condoms, and be fucking honest with me about it. don’t come home as coward who can’t quite own up to what you’ve done, and as a result put my life in immediate danger.

I never realized there was more to people than knowing their heart. no matter what the heart feels and the mind says, apparently we can be driven to all kinds of things. it’s kinda the same as all of us being a little crazy really, we each just funnel it differently.

more about dating older men. I think I like it. I don’t want to be anyone’s mother. I fucking hate it. hate it with a passion, but I am often put in that position. I am a natural leader and find myself in that role frequently, but I don’t want to be a leader in my relationship. I want my man to order my drink at the restaurant without asking me what I want. it’s kind of a turn on. I want a man who will point me to the line I am about to ski, a man that will take me there. I don’t want to always be the trip leader in my relationship, I would love for someone else to take charge.

I know that I am an intimidating person to date for most men my age. I think some men are kinda scared of me, really. I know that the pool of men I could possibly ever date, is incredibly small. I mean, they have to be a better skier than me to start, than there’s the whole thing where I don’t want to be so dominant, but I easily am, so.. there we have it. that’s why I think dating older men is kinda nice, cause they are so freaking stoked about you, have their shit together and have tremendous amounts of respect for you. they also aren’t as big of sluts and seem humbler than the cocky boys of my own age group. ha.

so what am I now? I spent saturday night drowning myself in the bottle, saying good bye to Katrina and Dave, meeting all their friends and parents. sunday morning I got up, still drunk, fell out of my bed, threw up and dragged my reluctant ass to their apartment to join the rest of the hung over group of friends and family. we cleaned, divided things, took stuff to goodwill, finished up. brought things to a close. I had been avoiding her apartment, all the while, wanting to just stop by and cry in her backyard.

it was heart breaking to clean up after their lives, knowing we needed it. needed closure. I needed every bit of it to move and say good bye. to accept it that they’re gone. however, it put my mind on her again and I couldn’t shake her out of my head, or the ill feeling of it all. the loss, the tragedy, the ugliness and sadness. so I took a drive. soaked at Norris. thought about the world, my life and everything in it. with everyone leaving for the summer season, and me being in a holding pattern, watching it rain. I can’t seem to get a hold on life. can’t get a new lease on life and I can’t figure out why. I feel alone.

life goes on.

I think part of my anxiety comes from not having a real home, or spot to call my own, and having such a hard time finding anything decent in Bozeman. I’ve pretty much resolved that I have to buy a house and there’s no other option for me anymore. I’m tired of being a transient, I’m tired of always moving. I’m tired of not having my own garden and my own shit. I’m moving to Ennis, I think. I do love Bozeman, but still with most of my friends being gone for the summer season, or most of them living outside of Bozeman anyway, why do I stay in this town? after being in montana a few years, it starts to wear on me the folks who move into this town. the bright-eyed-bushy-tailness of it all. the attitude you can literally see rolling into town. Bozeman is not truly montana… is it?

the death of a friend. I am reeling. I keep returning to the text messages and her pictures. her last words to me. her unsuspecting smile and laughter when I stopped by at their house last week. my last minute cancellation of a rafting trip because I wanted to actually stay in town and get some work done. the impact of their deaths have a much more profound effect on me than I could imagine.

how could this have happened? I just talked to her yesterday. what do you mean ‘did you hear about Katrina’? but she just graduated, she just got her new dream boat. but she was supposed to go on the middle fork. but she had things to do. they both did. the mystery machine was going to get on the river tomorrow.

it makes me ponder—with stark certainty—the delicate nature of our lives. the passing state of it all. in an instant, it’s gone. no warning, no struggle, just the end. and with heart breaking agony seeing the rest of the world move on, it always does. like no one cares.

it’s equally grueling to know how they died. it’s insane to know I was either supposed to be in that car, or following them in mine. perhaps something would have been different if I had been with them as planned? I feel like I have cheated death in some crazy round-about way. even though rationally I know this has nothing to do with me. but because of this, I have an irrational apprehension of getting in my car and getting on the interstate. I can’t stop to think how they died. what did Dave think when he was thrown out of the car? was he alive? did they worry about each other? was Katrina alive and conscious when her body flew across two lanes onto the eastbound shoulder? did she know she was dying? I am relieved knowing what ever happened, was swift. they both went to sleep right there and then.

I will stop thinking of all this. but I feel like I have been blessed with life. and I am mourning the loss of two precious lives. so young, so full of light.

Katrina and Dave, see you on the flip side. love the ones you’ve got, live each day. and always wear your seat belt. I’m going to go drinking on the river with my dear friend Porter to take my mind off things. but I’ll be thinking of you all the time because of my damn frame. oh, and I got those clips in the mail for you for the webbing. I’ll stop by later so we can cut that plywood for the seats. I signed up for that whitewater rescue class we talked about.

click. switch. gone. I’m chasing my mind again. I didn’t know what was happening when I rolled out of bed, woken up by a text. gathered the pieces of my boat and headed for the river. a walking disaster, the shittiest show of them all. I put in for bear trap in the afternoon with a thunder clap and sunshine.

when do you stop being scared of what you’re about to run?

virgin run was through the kitchen sink. flowing at 1700 ft. less pushy. high side on the first rock, spin around and drop the falls in reverse. lost an oar, recovered, and made it through the pin hole. what happened? after all that the green wave was none existent.

like tim said, after you do this, you won’t be so scared of many things. baptism by fire. sink or swim.