Constructing heat.

I finished my first real knitting project that I've done as a gift for myself, a magnificent pair of long gauntlets, or bumgloves as I have lovingly deemed them. I tried to do them off of a pattern, but found myself getting bored to the point of frogging with it, so I went my own way, and found that they look superb, in my own humble opinion. Made with Cascade 220 wool.

Making something like these makes me feel really accomplished, I made something out of a strand of yarn that I can wear, that will keep me warm, that other people admire. It's an extremely pleasant feeling, one that I haven't often felt.

I'm working on a second pair, in a different pattern I wrote up, for a friend of mine. The yarn is an electric purple that she picked out, for a scarf, but I know she'll like these more. My mother even wants a pair now.

Thinking and I'm thinking til there's nothin' I ain't thunk.

About one in five times I go on Facebook I look at his profile. Maybe it's curiosity, mostly I think it's human kinds general gluttony for punishment, and pain. His girlfriend seems to be head over heels for him. So excited to be with him, to be incubating something she created with him. Every time I read a comment from her I remember what it's like to feel that way about him, and I remember every time he let them down. About trying to get pregnant, and during it, when we'd fight he'd occasionally kick me in the stomach. Laying in bed and looking at the bruise, wondering if maybe something had been in there and was extinguished by the violence. How he'd look at the bruises with shame and apologize and put his hand on it, tenderly. Forgiving him over and over, and mostly blaming myself for making him feel the need to...protect himself in such a manner? I consider telling her sometimes, rationalize it by means of protecting her, but mostly I think it's anger and an immature desire for revenge against him. If he could do it to me, why not her? Though I have the notion that he won't. I spend a lot of time wondering why. Why he could be so violent and heartless towards me, but covet her, and their baby. If maybe I deserved his treatment due to my actions or behaviour? If that's just insecurity and there was an underlying factor in our relationship that made him prone to attack, and not in theirs. If maybe her comments are just a veil, a way to mask hidden problems, her way of making their relationship beautiful and healthy in print if not in life, like I used to do when talking to friends and family. I don't miss him, or our relationship, but part of me craves what they have in theirs, wishes that he treated me the way he seems to be treating her, a desire to be part of that with him like it was supposed to be when I left home to be with him, and married him. To be with the man she's making him out to be.

Daunting: 101 ...or was it dating?

Thursday I was sitting on the bus, knitting a simple lace pattern scarf, when I suddenly realized I should probably call my mom to let her know of my surprise return home at such an early hour. Being that I lost my last cellphone, and have since decided that technology isn't for me, I tested the waters of human generosity, and asked the guy a few seats over if he perchance had a phone that I could use for a tick. The waters were warm, as was his response, and we ended up in a polite conversation about the adorable picture of a smiling curly headed little boy as his wallpaper, which turned out to be his son. A few stops later he pulled the cord...and to my surprise asked me if I would by any chance like a ride the rest of the way home...After an internal monologue ("He could be Buffalo Bill." "You're a fucking hitch hiker." "That's different." "You occasionally sleep under bridges." "That's different" "YOU NEED A SOCIAL LIFE." "NOT AS A LAMPSHADE." "Do it." "Fine.") I decided to take up his offer of a much quicker way home. He explained that he didn't want to drive his work truck all the way to his previous destination, two counties over, so he took the bus as a more cost efficient, eco-friendly, alternative; which jived well with me. When we got in he explained to me that he asked if I'd like a ride because he thought I was very attractive, but wanted a more personal environment, and more time to take the leap of faith of asking me on a date. We chit chatted the rest of the way, and finally in front of my house exchanged numbers and parted ways.

Today I was in a panic. Why hadn't he called? Is it too soon for him to call? Did he lose my number? Did he lose interest? Should I call him? Where the hell did I put his number?! Oh shit I lost it. Wait...no...No there it is, buried under the blankets at the foot of the bed. How'd it get there? Who cares. Do I call him? Refer to the beginning of rant. I finally got up the balls to call him...and found that he was having the same mental tug of war himself, not knowing if it was too soon to call, or if I was ever going to call him, and he was extremely relieved that I decided to.

After some exceptionally awkward chatter, laughter, and a couple silences, he told me he was definitely still interested in getting together, and would call me Wednesday to make date plans, probably for this weekend.

So. I have what is my first official date, since I left my husband, to look forward to sometime in the next week. My nerves are a little shot, I may need a beer, or a tranq gun, but in all I'm really excited, and proud of myself for taking the leap and calling him. For putting myself back out there into the dating world with confidence I never had before. I think I gained a lot of it from my marriage. After leaving someone whose favorite pet names for you were "worthless" and "useless", you realize that you are none of those things. If you can gather the strength to remove yourself from that situation, you have the strength to do anything at all.