Buyer, Beware!

(I haven't heard from you in months... since May. Now this.)

Love... It can take so many shapes, so many forms. Love has been an absolute blessing for me. I wouldn't change a moment in my life for fear of losing some of my most fond memories in the ripple effect that any change would create.

Let's reminisce for a moment, shall we...

Think about the first time you felt loved... from your mom or dad, grandmother, etc... I remember countless times when I felt the epitome of love from my Nana. That woman knew how to make me feel special; and the happiness she brought me still lights up my life and brings a pit to my stomach every time I think of those very moments. I feel like I've swallowed a golf ball right now, because I'm fighting back tears as I type. I am just flooded by so many beautiful memories that exemplify unconditional love. It was her eyes that said it all. She had the purest of eyes. Not a single immoral bone in her body. Not a single immoral thought in her mind. She was my moral compass. And when she looked at me, her eyes did all the talking. She said, "I love you" to me more than anyone else in my family, and her "I love you" was more genuine than any other word ever uttered to me in my life.

Now, think of your first serious relationship. Think of the love you received. Think of the ways love was expressed to you. Think of why that person loved you. I was involved with a man for six years; a man that I thought (at one point) I would marry. He was sweet and philosophical. He was a bit of a dreamer. But more importantly, he was a free thinker. We had many similar beliefs. We were both in the same place, romantically. I was still quite young; I was barely 19, and he was 25. We fell in love, fast. But I knew it was love by the way he looked into my eyes. There was a level of pain behind the glossy exterior of those striking, green eyes; pain that would almost certainly cripple the man if he ever lost me. I can look back and envision those moments from 1999 as if I were experiencing them right here and now. I remember when tears would fill the corners of his eyes as he stared deeply into mine. I remember I would then be overwhelmed by emotion and lose control of my tear ducts and sweet salty rivers would stream down my face, uncontrollably... all the while, keeping our eyes fixed on each other.

People say, "the eyes are the windows to the soul." Now, I don't know about this whole "soul" idea. But I am an expert at reading one's eyes. It's my gift of discernment. If I can look you in the eyes, I can tell if you're genuine. And I have been fortunate to have met some very caring men, with a genuine love for me.

Which leads me to my tornado... (or is he my volcano?) Oh, the insane love we shared. Truly life threatening. Gut wrenching, mind boggling, life affirming, "soul" embodying, sick, twisted, ...splendid love! Our relationship has been over more times than I can count. My sanity was in question nearly as many times. This man's unrelenting love pierced my heart and spilled my blood for nearly four years. His eyes, Wow!... they were unique. They would burn a hole into my eyes that traveled to my heart and made it skip a beat. His love was like a sickness; a cancer that rapidly divided all throughout my body, and I was ill-equipped to handle such a love. I had no idea that love could be so profound. I though I had experienced the grandest of all loves. But this love, there was no comparison. It was of the extremes of bipolar disease. It gave you the high of the century; then left you with the lowest of lows, pounded into the pavement. This highly destructive relationship fooled me for years. I believed that it was all worth it, the torture we inflicted on each other. The obsession that suffocated my every breath. I believed we could overcome anything. I believed love would see us through to the end of that treacherous road. I was wrong.

Still, two and a half years later, he is haunting my thoughts and breaking in to my virtual reality with his cryptic messages and subject-less frames of mind. When does this stop? Where does it all end? Does it ever end? I say "buyer beware" because, though I can't imagine anything better than love, there is not much worse than a broken heart... especially when the term, "you break it, you buy it," doesn't apply.

Can someone please tell me how to mend a broken heart?

This is what happens when a tornado meets a volcano.

Someone once loved me more than anyone has ever loved another. Someone once put me on a pedestal. He would look into my eyes and I could feel his love with every fiber of my being. I would look into his eyes and I could read his thoughts. I knew his every flaw. I knew him through and through. But he did not know me. He wanted to believe I was perfect. He wanted to believe I was submissive and sweet. He wanted to believe I was innocent and pure. He wanted me to be someone I could never be. He once trusted me with his heart. He once trusted me with his children... He once trusted me and I failed him... I failed them. 

It has been over two years since I have felt loved. It has been over two years since a man has looked into my eyes and expressed his undying love without ever uttering a word. I am privileged to have felt a love so profound that it transcended time and space. I would get lost in that man's eyes. He could level me with just one look. He could take my breath away and with the same look, restore my faith in love.

I should start by saying I am a faithless woman.  By default, I would question everything. I do not believe in soul mates. I do not believe there is only one true love for everyone. But for nearly four years, I was all but convinced I was wrong. I wanted to believe we were meant to be together, forever. I wanted to believe we could overcome all our problems. But there was one major flaw there... I was never going to be the woman he wanted me to be. More importantly, I was slowly losing pieces of me... and by the end of that relationship, I was nearly gone.

The love that we shared was an affliction... Passionate, profound and unparalleled. Our chemistry was volatile... and intoxicating. One minute, our love had no bounds... the next - we were at each other's throats. I have never loved, or hated anyone more. I wanted to love that man forever... I've also never been so tortured (metaphorically speaking). It truly was the best of times... and the worst of times. I reached my absolute highest of highs AND lowest of lows while in that relationship... and I count myself lucky that I was able to get through it, fairly unscathed.

Being in that relationship was like being bi-polar... to an extreme that most people wouldn't be able to live through... and I nearly didn't. The line from that Eminem song, Love the way you Lie... "That's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano" ... that is how he views our relationship... and he is right. We Were Volatile!! And for the longest time, we both felt like we loved each other too damn much to ever walk away. So even with all the torture we put each other through, we just wouldn't give up. Even after we broke up, we couldn't just say, "it's over" ... It was always, one day we'll be together again... some day! Neither he nor I knew how to throw in the towel. We just couldn't imagine a lifetime without the other in our lives. I succumb to this ridiculous notion from time to time, even to this day. But this insanity, I feel, is finally wearing off. I'm finally starting to see a life without him... I'm able to see that this "marriage" was never meant to be.

Having said that, I can now say it breaks my heart to actually give up on us. I am happy and healed, and... I fear I will never be loved the way I'm meant to be loved. I fear no one will love me as deeply as He did. I fear I will never look into another man's eyes and feel his love overcome me... I don't know if I will ever be lucky enough to have the kind of love that I've grown accustomed to having.... the heart breaking, gut wrenching, exorcist-like mind-fuck that I call LOVE. This fear tortures me.... this fear consumes my every thought. I am devastated by this almost certain fact... and at the same time, I am thankful that at least I was lucky enough to experience it.

Crazy Fucking Love... drove me fucking crazy... and I was lucky to have a love so profound, so insane, so terrible and so wonderful.

Reflection

See this image... take it in. Understand the beauty of this world, and how it speaks to you. This image speaks to me on a level I cannot fully put to words. But I will try...

Reflection... Let me reflect for a moment.

I define myself by what drives me, what wakes me in the morning, what pushes me through my hardest of days... love! My love for humanity, my love for my family, my love for myself. I define myself as a philanthropist. Everything I do is a direct reflection of the very essence of Me! People call me "nice" ... people see me as a "nice person." Some may even use the word, altruistic. I've been referred to as a philanthropist, a humanitarian, a good person. I can agree with this, for the most part. But I do not think anyone is truly altruistic. I give my all to the people I encounter on a daily basis... whether it be a family member, a friend, a lover, a stranger, a person in need... I give my all! But I can not say I give without receiving just as much in return.

It makes me feel good to be able to help others. I crave a kind of connection to my fellow human beings. I require a certain level of connection to people. I have to fulfill certain needs. I need to give love as much as I need to receive it. I need to feel love to feel that I am alive. To live without love, well, it is not living.

When I look at the image above, I am mesmerized. The image is quite simple... it is the refection of a perfect sky... and it takes my breath away every time my eyes fix on it. The sky is a thing of beauty. But its reflection onto the clear, crisp water only shows what it wants you to see. That is the problem with reflections. I can reflect on my soft exterior. I can reflect on my tortured interior. I can reflect on anything my heart desires. But I will only let you see what I want you to see. And you may not ever see what I'm hiding.

I did not take this picture. I do not know where it was taken. I do not know if it was photo-shopped. I do not know anything but what my eyes can see. Just as you will only know about me what I tell you. Though I am an open book, and I tend to share more than I should, I admit, right here - right now, that I do not share my every emotion. I do not share every thought that enters my mind. I say I am an open book, but sometimes I need to be prodded. Sometimes I keep things to myself... until I am asked to share.

The colors of this image could very well have been enhanced... just as my beauty is often enhanced by makeup. This photograph doesn't give me any clue as to where it was taken or who took it. But, do I need to know any of that to appreciate its beauty? NO. I don't care if it was enhanced. I don't need to know where it came from or anything but what I see to fall in love with it. All I know is how I feel when I look at it... its every facet. All I know, is when I look at this image, I feel at peace. I feel my heart flutter... my pulse race, then slow down. I feel admiration, I feel love. I love the way this image makes me feel. And if I had the choice, I'd post this image up everywhere. ... But, if I did that, would it be just as special? Would I appreciate its beauty... if it were everywhere I looked? Or would I eventually get sick of looking at it? Would it's vibrant colors dull over time? Would it lose its majestic beauty? Again, my answer is NO.

I am emphatically sure that I will never grow tired of this image. Its colors will not dull in my eyes. Its beauty, to me, will never fade. It will never lose its meaning. It will never cease to amaze me or fill me with wonder.

If I can love a photograph with such resolve, imagine the love I have for my friends, my family, for humanity, for myself! Imagine the love I have, that I am waiting to share with someone worthy.

Poker Face

Since when are relationships like poker?

I remember when I was 18 years old, in college... it was holiday break and we got snowed in for days... Luckily I was at my boyfriend's house with a bunch of friends so we were able to keep occupied. I'm dating myself, here, but this was before facebook... before smart phones and way before tablets. We had to be creative to keep from getting bored. This was a time when a deck of cards was all you needed to have fun.

This was when I learned how to play poker.

I must have had beginner's luck, but I was fortunate enough to make a little money. I think I won a little over a hundred bucks, which was a lot for a college kid. I remember so little about how to actually play poker, but what I do remember is I really knew how to keep a straight face. I had a good poker face... I wasn't gonna tell anyone what was in my hand. Looking back, I probably had no idea if my hand was actually good or bad. So I probably couldn't tell anyone what was in my hand, even if I wanted to...

Which leads me to my point. I have no idea how to play this game...  the dating game. I've never been good at it. No one told me that dating is like poker. No one told me to keep a poker face. When I was younger, I could keep a straight face for a game of poker. But there's a big difference. Now, I know the cards I'm carrying. I know my hand is good! But I do NOT have a poker face. My hand is written all over my face. I show my every tell... I might as well have my hand plastered to my forehead!

But guys have really mastered the art of the poker face! Like, "eh, it's no big deal." With this guy I'm dating, it's like mixed signal central. He has the best poker face ever. I haven't figured out any of his tells. When it comes to matters of the heart, he is straight faced! A part of me doesn't think I have even penetrated that heart of his. If I have, then he is damn good at hiding it. <Grrrr> Damn poker face!

I would love to be able to keep a poker face through certain aspects of my life. I would love to give men a taste of their own medicine. But I suck at this game. I haven't won at poker since the beginner's luck wore off. I think it's part of being a woman... We can't hide our feelings.

Just once, I want to be the chick that says, "Read 'em and wheep!" Throw my cards on the table, and walk away with the pot! I wanna win ...at love!

Insomnia...

Insomnia has been a problem for me, well, for a while. But this is getting out of control. Last night I didn't fall asleep until after 2am. I tossed and turned and felt like I was awake more than I slept. Then I awoke an hour before my alarm went off, and couldn't fall back asleep. So I have slept for less than 4 hours... and you really can't call those 4 hours quality sleep. Something's gotta give. ...and it may end up being my sanity!

Oh, off to work I go. Today may serve to be a viciously rough day!

To be continued...

Loss...

I have to face the fact that I am alone. I have to face the fact that I was fooling myself to believe otherwise. I have to face the fact. I have to face reality.

The reality is that I fell in love with the idea of love years and years ago... I, then, fell out of the idea of love for roughly a year or two. I avoided it. I didn't want love. I had my priorities, and I was going to stick to them. When I was in LA visiting my aunt, we had a discussion about my decision to avoid love. She said I was closing myself off from life. My decision to avoid love was hindering me from having a fulfilling life. ...and she was right. I could say I was happy. I could say I was content. And a part of me was, because I allowed myself to heal... and get back to a better version of me. I regained my self confidence. I restored my health. I put myself as a priority for once in my life... and it was great. But she was right, I was definitely missing out on something that truly was important to me. I wouldn't admit it then, but I was missing out on something I need. Love!

So, that was at the end of May, 2012. When I returned to the quad cities, I returned a different person. I went from Ms. Independent, "I don't want or need anyone"... to Ms. Open to ALL Possibilities. I put myself out there... way out there. And I actually met someone. I met a really great guy, who has many of the same interests and passions as me. He's vocally passionate about things, like I am. He's a self starter, which I admire. He's a pretty neat guy. lol. I really could go on and on... but I'm gonna stop there for now.

The reality is that we are in two different places in our lives. He is not over the loss of an ex. I'm fully healed, and ready for love. So what do you do? What do I do?

He just moved across the country, temporarily, for business. He should be back in 6 months. But we'll see. In the meantime, he's given the time that he needs to heal. And I'm back to being alone. No closer to love than when I started.

Loss...

Depression is a part of my story...

I'm trying to figure out what I hope to accomplish by posting this blog. I always thought I'd start a blog. I thought it would be for something I care about, like veganism... or chiropractic. I always thought I'd write something backed by research and it would be something that would leave an impact. I thought I'd one day start a blog that would create a large following, and I would bestow wisdom upon the masses. I'm being a bit overzealous but that is my aspiration. I want to make a difference in others' lives. I am meant to positively impact the people I encounter.

Having said that, I obviously have gone a different direction. Instead, I have chosen to write about my inner thoughts. An introspection, if you will. I don't know if I will have many people follow such a blog, but I guess I will find out.

Anyone who knows me, knows I am an open book. Anyone who has spent time with me, knows I am an upbeat, loving and caring person. I go out of my way to do whatever I can to help people. I just worked 8 days straight... and will continue to work another 4... so by the end of the week I will have worked a total of 12 days straight (sorry, that last statement is redundant, you can do the math). Granted I don't work 8 hour days, because I also go to school full time, but I've been coming in to work before school, leaving to go to class, then heading back in to work if class lets out early... I do this because I love my job... I love the people I work with... so I do whatever I can to help... whenever I can.

The reality of the situation is... though I want to be helpful and I want to do whatever it takes to reach a goal... the reason I chose to work this many days in a row is because I am going through a phase of depression and I really need the distraction. This is not a clinical depression... I do not need to be put on medication (as most people don't) but I do need to face the reality that I have pain in my heart, in my mind... and I need to address it. I am not good with loss. I still haven't gotten over the fact that my grandmother, my Nana died. And she died in 2007... 5 whole years ago... and I don't think I even want to get over that loss. I carry her picture around in my purse... I should elaborate: I carry her picture around in HER purse. Instead of having a cute, stylish purse, I use my Nana's purse because I feel the need to have a connection to her at all times... I have to admit, I miss her with every breath I take.

So I'm not talking about that kind of loss. Though the loss I have is affecting me, it is not a major loss. No one died. And this loss is, most likely, not even permanent. Nonetheless, it is a loss and I must see it for what it is. I need to accept the situation for what it is, and establish my feelings on the subject, and I need to stop over-analyzing the situation... and heal.

Change is a part of everyone's life. I am not averse to change. On the other hand, I am not especially fond of change either. Change and I get along all right, for the most part. But this time, I guess I was affected more strongly than I had anticipated; and that caused me to have bouts of uncontrollable crying, insomnia, and even weight loss. I'm one of those people that loses weight when depressed. (don't hate)

So, I can't sleep. My mind races. I toss and turn. So many thoughts run through my head, I can't keep them straight. Worries, fears, thoughts, feelings... I listen to my heart beat, and I focus on the blood rushing in, rushing out. I hope that this will calm me. I hope that focusing on the simple beating of my heart will lull me to sleep... but it doesn't. Nothing works. So I toss and turn. Think about my life. Think about my day. Think about all the things I've said and should have said. I think about if I would just say what I mean, how that would affect me... how that would affect others. Then I think, it's best to keep some things to myself. I think I've shared too much, already. I think I need to stop over-thinking things and let it be, for now. ... But I am No Good and letting things "be!"

So, here I am... I should be asleep. I should be dreaming positive, happy dreams... of a mystery man sweeping me off my feet and whispering sweet nothings into my ear... I should be dreaming of the long passionate kisses that come with being swept off my feet. I should be dreaming that I'm on vacation with that mystery man, and we are blissfully happy. But, fuck, I want that to be a reality. I'm sick of those dreams being only dreams. I'm sick of settling for mediocre. I'm sick of accepting less than I deserve. I shouldn't have to dream of these things. I should just be given these things. I should have a man in my life to give me these things. The man in my life should want to give me these things. And yet, I settle for less. I accept less than I deserve... then I wait.

I am strong... and beautiful... and young. I am intelligent and funny. I am compassionate and sincere. I am extremely passionate and hot headed (granted, that one might not be considered a good trait, but it's the truth). I am giving and endlessly loving.  I just want to share that with someone worthy of me. I really hate the fact that I am putting this out there like this. But I really can't help myself... Though I want to stop, I am compelled to share... get it off my chest.

What is wrong with me...

Me: Let's scratch the surface... and maybe go a little deeper

Let me start by introducing myself...

My name is Jennifer Ann Aranda. I love my name (jenannaranda) hence my blogger handle. I love the way it rolls off the tongue... JenAnnarAnda. So alive and resounding! Love it! I was born in Chicago, and raised in its suburbs.Though I am a Chicago girl through and through, I recently chose to move to the Quad Cities to matriculate at Palmer College of Chiropractic... The Fountainhead of Chiropractic! I've been working for chiropractors for over 3 years... and have been extremely fortunate to work for such passionate and knowledgeable DCs. It's a real honor to be in their company. It was my mentor, Dr. Clinton Garda, who helped me see in myself the strength to make such a move, to create such a change in my life. In my heart, I thank him every day for inspiring me to always be better, to always push myself to do more! Without him in my life, I may have never found this path.

It truly is a gift to wake up every morning knowing you are on the right path! My life decisions have put me down several paths... many have been rough. I have diverged from "my path" many times. I've gotten lost several times. I've ended up on other people's paths, thinking their path was good enough for me... I was vehemently wrong! Though I have been down different paths, there has always been a commonality to each path... I've always been on a path of service. In my early/mid twenties I worked in the hospitality industry. I loved my job. I love being with people, serving people, meeting people's needs. Though I loved my job, something was missing. I wasn't doing exactly what I was meant to do. Though I was in the service industry, I wasn't serving my fellow humans in the right capacity. I'm a healer; and my hands are the instruments, my tools for which to facilitate healing!

My grandmother, my Nana, was an occupational Therapist; and I used to go with her to work when I was younger. My Nana taught me that the simple touch of a hand can be more healing than any medicine. She was a magical woman (I use that word loosely... I don't mean magical in the sense that she could cast spells, or anything of that nature). She inspired everyone to do and to be better. She brought out the best in everyone, just by being around you. She passed away in 2007 and I still miss her every single day. I have all but forgotten stories that she told me and memories that have all but faded away, but I will never forget how she changed lives, she improved lives with a simple touch of her hand... A caress of one's cheek, the gentle pressure and massage of a worn foot, the loving grasp of a withered hand. She brought a sparkle to her patients eyes, and filled every room she entered with laughter and love! And Every Single Day, I aspire to be someone she can be proud of... someone much like her.

Okay... that's a good start. More to come!