Rod Stewart gave me a soccer ball, thought I saw Telly Savalas on the bus once but probably didn’t and David Hasselhoff unfollowed me on twitter after I told him I didn’t find him attractive.

I’ve cried three times in the past ten years. I’ve sobbed uncontrollably three times today. A break please in the never ending disappointment, just once even would be pretty great. Four. Four times now.

I hate hope. I hate happy. I hate suspicion. I hate when I don’t hope, aren’t happy or have suspicions. I can’t settle in or let you in, I can’t believe, trust, rely. The second, the absolute second I’m sure and happy and excited a cold wind comes in. It blows through with the chill of a misdirected text, or a plan not kept, or wanting masked as fear. A wondering. Something is off kilter. It’s me. I can physically feel the walls around my heart tighten. I recognize it as the wishful thinking that someone else would do as you would do in a situation and I also recognize that is not rational. So I mind my own business, I have no right to question. It’s probably nothing I tell myself, because there is nothing. My issues have nothing to do with him. Have a little faith, I plead to myself, he’s a good man.

But I don’t believe my hope, I don’t trust my happy. I’m going to do my best to wait for a tangible reason to accept another heartbreak because there truly is nothing he’s said or done to deserve my distrust, because some people are who you want them to be and it’s not fair to make him pay for the lies of others and the distrust it has brought.

I’ve already said I told you so a hundred times to myself so that’s out of the way all that’s left is to be wrong. I’m ready to be wrong. I want to be wrong. I’m ready to be happy.

It’s a big risk, offering the one tiny piece of my heart I have left to be broken, but I’m ready for that too.

What a wonderful feeling it is to be completely smitten. The flirt and fixation. The shy trepidation of the getting to know you dance. Butterflies, goosebumps, caught breaths and constant grins. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. Welcome back.

So, I closed on the condo I bought on December 21st, and the demo got underway the next day. I’ve spent a small fortune and there are still a few things left to get but things are moving along really well. At first it was a little overwhelming but mostly it’s been fun and relatively stress free. Still haven’t listed my current house for sale yet it’s really not ready and I can’t quite motivate myself to finish doing what needs to be done even though selling my house is sort of key to my financial survival. Nice little perk of the reno, my contractor is hot as hell. Might look into keeping him.

Charlotte Bacon, 6;
Daniel Barden, 7;
Rachel Davino, 29;
Olivia Engel, 6;
Josephine Gay, 7;
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 6;
Dylan Hockley, 6;
Dawn Hocksprung, 47;
Madeline F. Hsu, 6;
Catherine V Hubbard, 6;
Chase Kowalski, 7;
Jesse Lewis, 6;
James Mattioli, 6;
Grace McDonnell, 7;
Anne Marie Murphy, 52
Emile Parker, 6;
Jack Pinto, 6;
Noah Pozner, 6;
Caroline Previdi, 6;
Jessica Rekos, 6;
Avielle Richman, 6;
Lauren Russeau, 30;
Mary Sherlach, 56;
Victoria Soto, 27;
Benjamin Wheeler, 6;
Allison N. Wyatt, 6

The tragic events of yet another mass shooting has left me very sad and disappointed. Mixed with the grief for people I do not know is also a sense of pride for everyone who tried to help. The worst and the best, a violent kiss.

I don’t understand the people who are not sportsmen or the like that insist no one will ever take their gun from them. Especially parents. If you have a gun in your home, unloaded and properly locked away, it is useless to you if you are ever faced with a home invasion or whatever it is you think you are protecting yourself from. The chance that a person in your home will be injured or killed is more likely than anyone being saved.

The differing views being argued is pointless I suppose but we all feel we need to express ours. Maybe I will never influence a change of heart, but I will never change my heart either.