New song for old feelings

I don't think this song reminded me of anything in particular until I saw the video. When I did, I was reminded of my LIFE from the time I was 17 to...oh, approximately 21.

Everywhere I went, you were there. You were long gone, in all honesty, even when you were ACTUALLY in my back seat, teasing me, fooling me, tricking me into thinking someday you'd be back, whether you meant to or not.

I went to college; you went with me. I saw you in every rainy day and every long drive home in the deep night. I went to Maryland; you went with me. You were on the plane, out in the hall, behind the next tree and around the next bend in the path. You were there every minute of every day, because I made up my mind to keep you there. I couldn't let you go.

I kept a box full of all the stuff that you had given me. The picture frames that you gave me for Christmas. The flower petals that you picked me at Six Flags. Various other momentoes and reminders from our relationships. The biggest thing, rather the smallest big thing in that box was the necklace that you gave me for (another) Christmas. Even after the rest of the items were long since thrown away in bouts of cleaning, that necklace remained, the one small item left in a large shoebox.

I drove to the park close to campus long after dark had settled, long after people had settled, maybe even after curfew. I carried the box as the winter wind howled. I crossed the grass where we held hands, past the big plastic spinners where we played tic-tac-toe, to the bridge where we stood and held onto each others hands and hearts and dreamed of a future, even if you would never admit it now. You were standing next to me as I dropped the necklace over the side, into the water, and you tumbled over with it. With the tiniest splash, you were carried away on the rushing water of the normally quiet stream that cold, rainy night.

You asked what you were to me. You were ever-present. You were everywhere and everything. You were all I wanted, and then you were gone. GONE. Plain and simple. And then, I was free.

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I wonder if all married women (or women is committed relationships) feel as guilty as I sometimes do thinking about the past, old loves lost. It's not like there is any sort of longing there. I don't wish for these people back. I don't think about them a LOT. Certainly not as often as I think about how lucky I am to have found such a remarkable husband. I do think that sometimes I hear a song, or something, and I am taken back. I relive that pain, and feel alive on a different level. It's all part of life, isn't it? And you have to live all of it. Remembering that pain makes me feel like...like I may actually NOT make the same mistakes again. Or make the same mistakes the other person did. And how can I remember how bad things can get when you make bad choices, if I don't REMEMBER, REALLY remember the pain.

And hell, I can't lie. Sometimes it just feels good to remember.

Ah, television

Lately, I have been feeling...unfulfilled. This could have been triggered by a number of things. I just got married, so there's that whole, "OK...that's handled. What else do I have to accomplish in life?" Then, there is the whole issue of my job. I like my job. I love my company. I dig the people I work with. The only problem is that I never saw myself making spreadsheets and doing math and being a quasi-middle-management type. Ever. I used to dream of putting all my little doodles and semi-stories into little books and selling them for my livelihood. I would finish them first, of course.

So, I decided that I would recapture my dreams. Start writing again. Use my job to fund my lifelong dream of telling stories. The only problem and hindrance to this is that little black box in my living room and my unemployed husband.

He has recently gotten me addicted to TV in a way I never have been. It's sad. House, NCIS (shows that USA shows in friggin' MARATHONS), Burn Notice, True Blood reruns on HBO OnDemand. Wipeout. The Bachelorette (OK. That one's mine.). I am in that place where I can feel an addiction forming in my bones.

I have never been a "TV person". I usually have a show, maybe two, that I watch. I spend the rest of my time letting old episodes of CSI play in the background while I accomplish REAL stuff.

Ah, my husband's contributions to my life. I need an intervention. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?