Four Letter Word....

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Unlike my usual t.v. selections, I've been watching The Bachelorette for the last few weeks. I happened upon it by accident and have been watching it faithfully ever since...as much as I don't like to admit that. I guess it drew me in because I thought it was ludacris that some random girl could fall in love with one of these random guys and live happily ever after...especially in such a short amount of time. But because of this "reality" show... and recent events...I find myself currently blogging about such un-realities.

I never really believed in love at first sight...and to be honest, I still don't. I believe in lust at first sight. Afterall, what more do you have within a first glance besides physical attraction? With that being said, how long does it take to fall in love...the kind of love that can move mountains and last a lifetime? Is love that happens quickly sure to burn out just as fast? Is love that takes a long time to develop more likely to sustain the test of time? I have no answers to these questions...just more questions.

What does it take to fall in love? What is the connection that binds your heart and your mind and allows you to stop questioning yourself... and allow yourself to love freely? After 29 years of loving different people in different ways, I've grown to feel like love has been a four letter word...like so many curses. I also feel like there's no formula that can be used to solve this equation. There is no set of criteria that can be met that can push you over love's edge...or is there? After this week, I might have found my own personal formula...maybe.

After a crushing long-term relationship that sustained much more than is really humanly normal, I've spent 2 years rediscovering who I am, what I want and need, and dating enough to find out who I don't want to be with. And through a brief relationship that ended with me wondering what I was thinking, I'm skeptical of entering back into the land of love. But in the same breath, I feel my desire to become a wife and a mother fighting its way into my life even harder. It certainly would take someone of paramount impressiveness to boldly return to that path.

In part of my own self-realization of what it is that I'm looking for, I made a list of attributes that I'm looking for in my husband. It was a list I created after my last long-term relationship so as to not repeat the same mistakes I once had. I used it as a point of reference to remind myself to never settle again. The list has over 40 traits, which my future husband will have to have in order to make me fully happy. Sounds a little over-zealous... even to me... and I've never really believed that this list would truly be able to describe the characteristics of one person, but perhaps a few people...but I might've been wrong.

I never had the list in mind when I met him. I actually didn't have much in mind besides that initial lust at first sight...and even that wasn't instantaneous. In fact, my initial reaction was more comical than lustful. But as time progressed, so did my attraction. I've heard countless girls say how they didn't even like their boyfriends/ husbands when they first met them and I always had a hard time understanding how that could possibly lead to love...until now.

Like I said, I hadn't even thought of the list. But in the short amount of time we spent together, albeit entire days, the list came to mind because I realized he was everything I was looking for...everything on the list. And after such a short amount of time (I won't even admit how short because it's still unbelieveable to me)...I find myself thinking of him all throughout my day. I look at my phone to make sure I haven't missed a text or a call. I listen to his music to soak him in deeper.

I have to say it's the best and worst feeling...all at once. I know I'm not alone in feeling this way...he's been more than vocal about the connection we've had up to this point. And as good as it is to hear that someone feels the same way, it's equally terrifying. As a little girl, no one told me I would fear love more than the boogie monster when I grew up. But here I sit, thinking about him...writing about him...and thinking about the idea of loving him...and wondering if I'm just crazy...or if my biological clock is trying to convince me that this is right....or, dare I say...that it might just be the real thing.

All I can think of is the list. I knew when I wrote the list that I could probably love someone who could meet all this criteria...but I guess I wrote the list mainly expecting that no one would ever be able to live up to it anyway...so I was safe from ever having to deal with it...and then he came along. I know only time will tell if my hypothesis is true...that if I met a man who existed within the realm of the blueprint of my perception of perfection, that he would be the one. And since I don't plan on letting him know about this blog, I can say with an honest heart...that I hope he is...and I really feel like he really is. And someday, when the time is right, I want him to read it...and I want our kids to read it, too.

I'm scared to even post this...my usual fear and skepticism is trying to dissuade me. But I'm going to anyway...because if the stars don't align...and he's not the one...I can safely retreat back to the thought that love is not that simple. And if I'm wrong...and he really is the one, I can look back...and laugh. Here's to laughter.

Fear cannot be felt in the same breath as desire.

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It's a mantra I've picked up in the last few years and it rings true as ever these days. I am exactly one week away from my 29th birthday...the last birthday in my 20's and I'm feeling so many emotions that I don't know which one to feel first. I've made a lot of bets with myself...and with God...that I would do certain things by certain ages or in allotted periods of time. For instance, when I lived in FL, I promised myself that I would make a minimum of 3 demos to have ready when I moved back to NY. Here I am, a year back in NYC...and not a demo to speak of.

For those that know me, you know that singing is my passion...music is my life...and writing is my outlet...and my survival. So with all that being said, what's the hold up? FEAR. How can someone be afraid of something that they love so much? And what's the worst that could happen...certainly nothing worse than doing NOTHING. But here's where that mantra comes in...when an individual feels desire and fear at the same moment, that individual faces two very distinct paths...pushing past fear and going all in....or debilitating paralysis. One emotion will always outweigh the other.

In most things in my life, I have always overcome my fears. I keep my eye on the goal and just move forward. Tell me why, then, the single most important dream in my life goes unapproached...neglected...and indefinitely paused. FEAR.

I'm not afraid of many things. Sure, the dark creeps me out. Scary movies get to me if I'm all alone. But music is not scary...music is love. Perhaps the connection between music and love is more profound than I thought. Just as I wrote the words, I realized how petrified I am of love, as well. Afraid to let people get too close or see me down. I love the idea of love...but actually giving and receiving the kind of love that I want has elluded me for close to 29 years....and so has my dream of making music. Coincidence? Maybe. FEAR.

I guess all I'm trying to say is I'm really tired of fear winning all the time in this particular battle. So here's one more bet with myself...and you can hold me to it. My last year of my 20's will be spent pursuing the only thing I have ever seen in my future...or else....

Facing fears....

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Today is the alumni game of the softball league I used to play for...Apponaug Girls Softball. It's been over 10 long years since I've played...and for a reason. Though I love softball and it was a major part of my childhood, I was injured during one of the last years I played and it changed me indefinitely and irreparably. One of the last times I told the story of how this happened, I burst into tears. Today is a scary day.

So what happened to change the love of my life into the fear of a lifetime? I was playing shortstop and my friend, Jen, was playing third base. Like so many times before, a fly ball comes our way. I call her off...she calls me off...I call her off again...and she again....we both back off thinking the other one's catching it. Before I knew what happened, the ball had landed directly on my face...my nose more precisely. My nose bled...and bled...bled some more...it just wouldn't stop bleeding. An ambulance was called and I was carried out on a stretcher. On that stretcher also lied all the confidence I had in the sport I once loved.

I tried to return to the field for a year or two after the injury. I had been playing for school for 2 years and was about to head into high school and try out for the fast pitch team. I had played softball for almost as long as I could walk, but never fast pitch. Now I entered this smei-foreign sport with a fear in my heart I could barely contain....and it showed. The cling of a bat, a ball in my peripheral vision, among many other sights and sounds, would have my flinching and wincing. The strong, young woman who used to throw herself at any ball that came in her direction had been replaced by a weak, cowardly girl who might not throw like a girl...but sure did catch a ball like one. My fear had completely overtaken any confidence I had. I ended up making the team my freshman year of high school...and riding the pine. Even as I sat on the bench, I would wince at those aforementioned triggers. It was unbareable...I quit.

Flash forward over ten years later and I am an hour away from the alumni game...trying to talk myself down. I've dragged my softball bag out of my parents' basement. The bag, ironically, is from the high school softball team...the last team I made an attempt to play for. The experience of pulling out my dirty, dusty gloves and the most impressively dinged bats was bittersweet to say the least. All at once, I thought of my childhood, which was made that much better by summers spent at tournaments and learning new cheers in the dugout....to that one day that changed it all. I sit here wearing one of my old allstar t-shirts and dingy sneakers and sweatpants contemplating whether or not Katie (not Casey) will step back up to the plate. Though it's only an hour away, I'm still on the fence about walking onto that field. Up until the minute I drive into that softball complex, I think my mind will be playing the ultimate ping pong match between gracefully bowing out...or facing my fears.