Hot for a married guy

There's a guy at work that is simply the most perfect human male I've ever met in person. Maybe there's some movie star out there who's hotter, but this guy is hot without the airbrushing. Brutally hot.

He's tall, with dark wavy hair, and a really sweet smile. His eyes sparkle, and he pays attention to me when I speak. His name is perfect, too, though I won't be sharing.

The only problem? (well, the main problem) He's married.

So I enjoy looking. And talking with him in those rare moments we get to talk. I'm not even smitten, but I do enjoy the moments.

He is super hot. So hot I sometimes can't listen to his actual words. Or form coherent sentences. That hot.

making her cry

My sister is the most important person in the world to me.
And yet I probably couldn't count the times I've made her cry.

She's very opinionated and strong-willed, but she values my opinion, and the things I say matter to her.  This is not to say that she doesn't have an equal effect on me - she does.

We were talking tonight about her ideas about some things and I was challenging some things because I was surprised at how adamant she was about defining certain people a certain way.  I'm not in total disagreement.  But partial.

And I thought she was taking it in stride and we could spar back and forth.

But all of a sudden she started to cry and ask me why was I being so mean and said that I'd been mean to her yesterday as well.  (I don't even remember what I could have said to her yesterday that may have been construed as rude or mean.)

I apologized.

But I don't know what happened.  It seemed like things were fine and then they weren't.

My confession is that I think she's too sensitive.  In the "she can dish it out but she can't take it" kind of way.  I think this would also make her cry.

::sigh::

sweet little smack in the face

I'm not actually a violent person, though I'll admit that I use violent imagery in my vocabulary fairly frequently for effect.  I say these things because it is the most comfortable way for me to deal with my frustrations with people, and their stupidity.  And stupidity get on my nerves.

My go to phrase right now is "punch [so-and-so] in the face".  It is not something I would literally do, unless my family were physically in danger.  I would like to say I would do so to defend myself, but I fear I might not have the wherewithal to actually defend myself the way I sometimes imagine I might.  Nonetheless, I certainly wouldn't punch a coworker in the face because they are stupid.  However, I do get the frustration that leads me to utter those words fairly often.

I've considered "punched in the eye" and "punched in the throat", but they don't roll off the tongue for me.

Anywho, I'm considering that maybe I shouldn't say such things.  I'm not sure what the appropriate words for my frustration might be, otherwise.  Just saying I'm frustrated doesn't really communicate my feelings, nor does it have the cathartic and somewhat comical release that the fake threat seems to hold for me.

I don't worry about this, since I'm not a worrier to begin with, but I wonder about whether it's healthy to talk like this.  My old crazy boss used to say she wanted to strangle people.  But she was crazy.

So.  There ya go.  There are a couple people at work that I want to smack in the face - figuratively, really.  But I won't.  And it's even more likely that they will simply get a look.  My face is apparently more expressive than I can control.  I will never play poker.

caught out there

Every once in a while, I'll feel invincible.  A moment of clarity, where I see the things that matter clearly differentiated from those that don't.  Or maybe a moment of hubris where I believe myself to be untouchable. Possibly a moment of insanity where I risk looking like an idiot in front of one of the few people I really care about.

These moments are when I throw caution to the wind and just say what I'm thinking or feeling with very little filter - basically, I'm honest.

It's hard for me to tell someone I miss them when I'm not entirely sure they miss me.  Or if they even care.

It isn't even that deep.  It was just a random email to a friend.  Well.  Not random.  But an infrequent letter.  Not really important.  More about daily sundries.  And a cavalier comment that I miss him.

But he hasn't responded.  And now, I'm thinking too much.  I was just being honest.  There's nothing between us.  We've only ever been friends.  And I'm glad.  It's normal to miss your friends when you're far away.

It's just the empty silence that makes me uneasy.

severe hotness

There is a married dude at work that nearly makes me salivate when I see him.  He is severely hot, and the only person who has ever caused me to be unable to focus on his words by his sheer closeness and hotness combined.  At one point my mouth may have actually been open.

And he's really friendly and always speaks.

But he's married.  With a kid.  Not that there would've ever been anything anyway.

But wow.  I am so seriously in a man desert.

I love to look at this man.

a certain kind of specialness

Last night I couldn't get to sleep for a long time.  This is rare for me.  Normally I'm asleep in less than 10 minutes.  But my mind was going - thinking about all the changes at work, changes my family is going through, changes my friends are going through - there's a lot going on.  And I guess it all came to a head in my mind last night. 

As I lay in bed, eyes closed, thinking - I thought about a friend of mine.  The one that some people think I should end up with.  And I realized that I love him.  That I had already known that I love him.  But that it's not the marrying/mushy/romantic kind of love.  I want him to succeed, we've been friends forever, and most likely will always be friends.  We know each other in ways few other people do.  We're comfortable picking up wherever we left off.  And that's it.

There were times long ago when I thought there might be more - but I'm glad there never was.  There is a certain kind of connection that we have that is seamless, and easy - because there was never anything more or less than our own certain kind of specialness between us.

He's really the closest thing I have to a brother.  And I like it like that.

sometimes I'm not so nice

I've been shy since I was little - since I can remember.  And talking to people I don't know - adults in particular - has always been hard for me.  It's why I never ask for directions, if I can help it.  It's why I never ask for help in a store, if I can help it.  Whenever I could, I'd always get my sister to talk to people for me.  But I never had a problem with kids (unless they were mean). 

Being an army brat meant that I moved around a bit, so I met a lot of new people - but it was almost always kids.  I didn't have a problem talking with other kids, and I'd actually be outgoing with them, if the situation necessitated it.  Going to a new school was actually fun for me, cuz I got to meet new kids, and I had no problem with that.

But being an army brat also mean that I didn't really live near a lot of family.  Going to see grandparents was pretty rare.  So rare in fact, that I remember going for their funerals about as much as I remember the visits.  I never got to meet one grandmother (she died before I was born), and the other didn't know who I was by the time I knew who she was.  I remember one grandfather loving to give me peach Nehi soda.  He died right around the time that my grandmother who didn't know me died - when I was five.  My last grandfather, the one who lived the longest of them all, was mean.

He liked to stir up drama in the family.  He seemed not to think much of anyone - especially not my family.  Funnily enough, I don't remember a specific action that he took against me - just looks and feelings.  I know, I know, I was a kid.  And as a child of the very last child of 9, grandkids weren't anything special anymore (if they ever were to him).  But he never made me feel welcome.  Me or my sister.  He died when I was 10.

So I never liked old people.  I learned they were mean.  I met plenty more that fit the same bill.  In fact, I met my first really nice, relatable old people 5 years ago.  I still tend to avoid them in general, but I'm getting over my fear.  I think part of it has to do with the fact that my parents are getting older, too.

Because my grandparents were all gone by the time I hit double digits, it still surprises me when friends or acquaintances older than me have living grandparents.  Today, a coworker burst into tears when she found out her grandfather died.  And I'm sorry for her loss - for the loss she feels - but I don't really understand it.  He was really old. 

And I know I should be more empathetic, but I don't feel like I have it in me.  I can't understand the relationship that people have with their grandparents because I never had it.  I don't even know what they're talking about when they try to explain.  Then I have thoughts that are best left unwritten.  Uncharitable thoughts.  When I really do feel bad that my friends feel bad.  I just don't understand why they do.  So, the amount of care I have wanes quickly. 

Not quite so nice.