I totally grounded myself this past weekend. Well, everyday except for Friday. That was an exception. Twiggy’s boyfriend moved across country to Boston, and of course we had to show him JUST HOW FUN THIS CITY IS. I was forced to go out and be fun. They twisted my arm. Really. I’m happy to report though that this aforementioned break (aside from Friday, that is) was very much needed, and it allowed me to think through a lot of my thoughts.

I slept. I cleaned. I got a pedicure. And that’s about it. Thrilling, no? My toes are now painted a fabulous shade of Barbie pink, however I feel as if I was robbed from the Chinese nail place in the mall.I mean, it was a great pedicure, ridic long massageand the whole gamut…by far the most luxurious of pedi’s I’ve had, but you see, I’m used to paying $15 if it’s not french. So, you can imagine my heart attack surprise when my bill totaled $28. TWENTYEIGHT DOLLARS?! Seriously?! I mean really, for that price they should have shellacked my feet in 24karat gold dust. But whatever, the toes look cute and I needed an indulgence. So what if I have no money for groceries this week. Guess it will just help operation stop eating for the upcoming wedding(s).

On a different note, I did get to catch up with some of the men that have been keeping my thoughts occupied as of late. The Dr., in his own way, let me know that there is still something there between us, and who knows what the future will bring. For now, though, he is out of sight. Out of mind. For the next three years. (Damn you out-of-state residency!) And I’m at peace with that…for the time being. Hot bartender? We had a great long (sober conversation) Saturday evening and I’m happy to report that once June comes, we will be spending time together. Who knows what will happen, but it’s something to look forward to. I realized this weekend though, that despite these other boys that I talk of and meet when I’m out being Super Fun Barbie, I can’t help but feel as if they are just a distraction to the one that is really on my mind. The one that I can’t be with right now, because our lives are in a state of (too much) disarray.

My dearest, dearest Ken. We obviously talked on Saturday as it was an “anniversary” of sorts,  and it really hit me just how much I wish he was here. I wrestle with the thought of us daily, because we’ve been through a lot. A LOT. Like, lots of bridges crossed, burned, and rebuilt. I can honestly say that if he asked me to be his forever tomorrow, I would. Without a doubt. And that scares me. Actually, terrifies, is a better word choice. Not at the thought of forever, but rather my feelings toward him. After all this time and all we’ve been through…if we’re still the way we are now, will we ever not be this way? Is it possible, that we had to go through other life experiences and grow as people, to become who we are now? And those people we’ve become, are really truly meant for each other? Story lines like that only happen in movies, which is why I’m terrified. Because I don’t want it to be another movie script. I want it to be real life.

I’m downright giddy at the thought of being with him, standing next to him as we watch our best friends in their first moments of newly-wedded bliss. I can think of no other with whom I want to snuggle up next to at night and wake up in the crook of his arm. I love the way his brow furrows and his lips become a little lopsided when he’s deep in thought. I love the tiny mole beneath his left eye that reminds me of his devilish grin when we were thirteen and he flirted shamelessly with me, and I was all “OMG this is KEN! Ken, he can’t like a girl like ME, we’re complete opposites! I’m such a goodiegoodie and he is…well…not!” (and still to this day he reminisces that he knew he wanted to be with me, but he wasn’t mature enough to be in a relationship, so he made himself wait. He also rues the moment/day when I helped him with his algebra in ninth grade, and he let the moment where he could kiss me pass, because of this very fact. He is quick to point out though he’s glad the way things played out though, because we wouldn’t be where we are today had he not. But I digress.) I love the way he twitches as he’s dreaming and gets overheated in his sleep.  I love the way he gives me enough rope to hang myself with. I love seeing his love for me in his eyes. I love the fact that despite having recently broken-up, I was able to comfort him and stand by his side, holding his hand at his best guy friend’s funeral two days after our high school graduation. I love watching him reach his goals, and I love that I have been there to catch him when he falls, comfoting him, and helping him stand back up again. I love that I am his best friend, despite a couple college years of psycho-girlfriends on his side. I love the feeling of butterflies that remain in my stomach when I’m around him, even if it is six years later and we’re no longer together. I love the way he balances me out. I love that he’s matured, but has kept his sense of self that I fell in love with way back when. I love the way he takes care of his two dogs, and even more, I love the way he is with children. I love the way he challenges me. I love the way we love each other.

I hate his a quick temper, and his ability to ”hit below the belt” with scathing comments just as I can. I hate that he knows me better than I know myself. I hate that we bring out the best in each other and the worst in each other. I hate that I compare every man I’ve ever dated to him. I hate that aside from my mother, he is the first person I want to tell when anything good or bad happens to me. But most of all, I hate the thought of not having him in my life…because I love him, in a way that love can morph and grow over time. I love him, because he is my Ken. And he loves me, because I am his Barbie.

Is it normal to have this love/hate relationship and not be labeled as crazy?

Even more so, I wonder is it really possible, to rebuild our Barbie dreamhouse together? 

I sincerely hope so.