Taking chances

It's Thanksgiving today. I usually associate this day with family, turkey dinner with all the trimmings, and fun. Several things have changed dramatically in my life over the past, oh, five years. Thanksgiving has been one of those things. It just isn't the big holiday that it had always been in the past. Family things have changed and I haven't had an actual Thanksgiving with my mom in at least three years. It's hard adjusting to things when it's always been one way for you. Three years ago, it was just me, my dad, and my brother for dinner, and the meal was a little short of the elaborate spread I had been used to. Plus, it didn't feel whole. Can't remember a Thanksgiving before then that had been less than at least seven people (extended family or friends). Two years ago, it was the just the three of us again (plus my ex) , but no turkey dinner. I know that there were quite a few people who were jealous of our prime rib but it wasn't the same (no matter how delicious it was). I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining. I am so thankful for my dad and my brother. And I'm so glad that we can get together every year to celebrate together. But it's hard to change things in the midst of so many other, more dramatic heart breaking changes.
This year again was different for us. We have the addition of my stepmom, Nancy. However, she had to be in Kentucky because of work issues. So the three of us headed up to my grandparents' house in Rapid City. We all ended up with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, yams, cranberries, and pie. The works, ya know? But we went out for it. We went to this fifties style diner for Thanksgiving. I will be honest and say my heart dropped when I found out. The food was delicious, don't get me wrong. But once again circumstances had trespassed onto the holy ground know as Thanksgiving that I had built up in the back of my mind. I sucked it up and ended up having a pretty good time. And I totally understand why we went out instead of staying in. But the inside me was still kicking and screaming and throwing a tantrum. Until...
While we were originally the only people in the restaraunt, we were soon joined by two more familys, and this one guy.
I saw the guy come in peripherally, and he ended up sitting in a booth behind where our table was. I thought maybe someone would show up to be with him, but as we continued our dinner, I heard him order his meal for just him. He was kind of a younger man and I think he was out of state, New York I think from the licence plate outside. When I heard him order for just him I felt sad. He sounded like he was in a pretty good mood and everything, but he was alone. The rest of the time we were there I kept staring at the empty chair across the table that, had any number of things been different, would've been filled. And I kept thinking, I should ask him if he wanted to eat with us. I should offer our extra chair. Nobody should be alone on a family oriented holiday, no matter the reason. But the whole time that was running through my head another line was racing at the exact same time, "He would probably say no". And that's that. I didn't ask him to join us, I didn't ask the waitress if I could pay for his meal (another thought of mine since I kinda chickened out on the other thought). I just sat there scared of being embarrassed of asking a guy alone on Thanksgiving to occupy our empty chair. After we left I've been feeling like someone punched me in the gut the whole time.
There are so many things I wish I had done or said but didn't because I was scared. Whether they were good things or just regular things, I've been scared of taking chances because I don't want to be hurt or embarrassed or whatever. All through today I've had this song stuck in my head by Celine Dion. Here's the chorus:
"What do you say to taking chances? What do you say to jumping off the edge? Never knowing if there's solid ground below or a hand to hold or hell to pay. What do you say?"

I am incredibly notorious for ridiculously long posts because I don't really blog often but I quite often go off on tangents. Actually tangents? All the time. Conversations, thoughts, writing, whatever. Here a tangent, there a tangent, everywhere a tangent, tangent. And since I am almost positive no one actually reads this blog any more I can feel free to say whatever I please in any tangent saturated way I deem fit. I just felt the need to pour out my thoughts and feelings in a way that might possibly be seen by someone but most likely won't. Like a journal but unlike a diary... I guess. It makes sense in my head anyway.

So now to splay my innards for the world of you.... whoever you maybe who is reading this. Which might possibly be myself months from now when I feel like popping onto this site again. This just makes me think that maybe they shouldn't let every Tom, Dick and Harry who wants to play on their keyboard have easy access to a blog. But I digress.

The reason for this particular piece of digitalized script is mainly about the past. I'm currently in my room at dad's and i like to rummage through my drawers of stuff that I have kept over the years. Junk drawers, you may call them, and I have a few. My collective habits have me worried that I'm a seedling hoarder. But then I just throw that thought away. Clever? Witty? No? Then we're in agreement, now let's move on. I found this little booklet in said drawer and thought to myself .... I'm stupid and why would I have ever have thought this was a good idea. It was a beginner's scrapbook so to say, that I had planned, I guess, on making into a "How I Met Your Father" kind of book. 'Cept after looking through the stuff that I had kept I just felt foolish and nostalgic and more foolish and stupid. One thing led to another and I am now convinced that I have screwed up on every level when it comes to pretty much everything in my life it seems. I also saw my insecurities spitting in my face.

This booklet contains pictures: My high school crush, one Jacob Parker with his unbelievably gorgeous blue eyes. My first technical boyfriend, Joe the body builder... And no, I'm not lying about the body builder thing to make myself look cool or something to that effect. My first real boyfriend, Matt. And then my musical ex, Gabe. I also have cards that came with roses, movie ticket stubs, Christmas cards and just because cards with little notes to remind me what they said they thought of me then. I also have bracelets given to me as presents hanging out on the binder like rings of yond scrapbook. I have heart stickers and cutouts. All the makings of a great scrapbook except the great idea part. I have no idea what I was thinking. I guess when I was putting together the idea and the book, I never thought that I would look back and just be racked with the ache that each item and picture carried with it either from regret, anger, hate, bitterness, or remorse. If any of my exs are reading this, I wouldn't pin any of those words on yourself. I am probably not feeling the way you think I am feeling about how things went. Needless to say, though, that my most recent ex and a few so and so's will not be making the cut to this menagerie of teenage stupid. I really just need to throw that stuff away and relieve myself of the stuffed animals or other boyfriend to girlfriend gifts that I have laying around.

I just hate how I let myself get into some of the situations. I honestly regret getting into a couple of the relationships I found myself in because I knew before they even started that I didn't want to be in them. Actually, that's the case with almost all of my relationships. I was stupid for getting into them for one, and ending them the way I did. I am actually a very perceptive person, but I think I'm also a little too sensitive sometimes, too. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Before I ever started dating, I actually readied myself to be the dumpee in all my relationships rather than the dumper.

There are only two guys that I have found myself in the situation of mutual like with and I really regret how things went. I'm really sorry that I am scared and insecure in the areas that I am because I'm positive that if I were even a fraction better in those areas then things would've gone a lot differently. And I know that I hurt them because of my own craziness and I would give anything to change how that went. But I can't. I guess my consolation is to see both of them happily moving on and letting myself imagine that they look back and wonder what it ever was that made them like me.... at all.

I know I'm a downer and I'm really harsh on myself blahdy, blahdy, blah. But the truth is is that I'm not happy with where my life is at at all. I'm not happy with the circumstances I've created for myself because I was scared, mean, spiteful, bitter, selfish, and whatever adjective you feel like throwing in there. I hate the way I've treated people, like my exs and my mom and my brother and my friends. I'm also terribly unhappy with the things in my life that seem like they were out of my control but that little creeper is stuck in the back of my head telling me that I did have something to do with it. I can't remember the last time that I actually liked myself. And it's not because I'm just being depressing, it's because I look back on my life and I was mean. I remember being mean but not thinking it was mean.

So this is my journal entry on how I don't know how I have any friends at all, on how I wish I could change the past. On how I don't know.... what else to say. I have trust issues, truth issues, self esteem issues, and crazy issues. I think I'm honestly crazy, not clinically or anything like that but I just think that it's going to take a strong, strong man to handle my crazy.

Well... I guess... thanks for reading if you were reading this... and managed to make it to the end of my rant.