Death, Family, Love, Memory Lane, This is my Soul, Uncategorized

To The Friend Who Broke Up With Me

goodbye

Dear Former Friend,

Salutations!

I always laugh when I see that word. It reminds me of you and how funny and witty you are. I miss you, but that, just like my feelings for this Charlotte’s Web themed greeting, is fading.

I had always prided our friendship in the fact that no matter where we went, we always came back to each other. It could be months or years, and we would always pick up, judgement free, and laugh and love like no time had ever passed. I know why you broke up with me, and I don’t blame you. You were sick of chasing me around, trying to pin down a date so you could get me to open up and spill my guts to you. And maybe I needed that. What you didn’t know when you texted me those unnerving words, “I am not going to contact you anymore. I love you….” I was already waist deep in heartache.

It had been unbearable to get out of bed in the mornings, and unbearable to step foot inside the apartment at night. The last few months had been spent tip-toeing through life, afraid to wake the beast of a man who I was once madly in love with.

Part of me wanted to see you so badly. I missed you for years. I missed your stories, and that contagious laughter…. all of our silly gossip. Another part of me did not want you to see me like this; fat and distracted, disgusting in my own skin.

I started writing these words over 3 years ago. It took me that long to be able to say these things to you in a passive blog post that I don’t think you will even see. Maybe I don’t want you to see it. Maybe I don’t want you to know how much it hurt to lose you; how much it still hurts when I go through old pictures of us having a dinner party in my mom’s kitchen or some random night out at a karaoke joint. I am sad to have seen this friendship end. Maybe it was supposed to end. Maybe our time together had run the course.

We were friends a lifetime ago, maybe two. I still think about you often, but I don’t miss you anymore. I hope your life is everything you ever wanted it to be. I hope you are happy. I have made new friends, and I also have old friends. I have friends who I have yet to meet. None of these can replace you and I wouldn’t even try. I know I am not totally healed, but I am very close.

Thank you. Thank you for many years of fun friendship. I am sure we both learned a lot from each other and grew into adults in each others care.

I cherish you. Be well.

xoxo

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Adventure, Change, Journal, Memory Lane, New York City, poetry, South Bronx, This is my Soul, We're Moving

Memory Lane Journals

I always rethink the gratuitous “I’m sorry,” epsecially when I am writing, since it makes me look guilty of something. I am sorry for too many things these days that are not anything I have control of. My last two blog posts were either heavy or sentimental, and I really didn’t know how to follow with such deep, personal expression until I saw a dead pigeon outside of a restauarnt in the South Bronx last week. I saw it and thought it was a dirty hunk of ice/snow until a customer came in and was like, “hey, you know there’s dead pigeon out there.” I learned that it was s sick or super cold bird (since the high had been 18 degrees in NYC ) and he curled up and died alone. My heart broke a little (ok, a lot). I don’t ever want to be that pigeon.

Anyway. I am guilty since I haven’t posted as often as I’d like. I am only about 6,000 words into the 100,000 word goal for the year. Despite being in a weird winter funk,  I’ve been busy. You might even wonder why I was in the South Bronx…. Captain Clam and I were applying for and depositing on a little slice of heaven to rent until we can’t afford it anymore. That’s right, WE ARE MOVING! I can’t even believe how exciting that is. I didn’t want to announce it until we had signed the lease, but I am spreading confidence into the universe today and am pretty much already moved into the new place (in my mind at least).

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We came home after the apartment viewing (and some happy hour wine and beer and oysters) and started organizing and throwing things out. Every time I move, it is THE BIGGEST walk down memory lane that I could ever wish for. I have been coming across some great memories these past few days. At my 30th birthday party, I had a card making station. These are cards that were made that would put Hallmark to shame. I even have a card from the Legendary DJ Jazzy Joyce, and I don’t even remember her being there! But… she was. I have come across so many things that remind me that I was super cool at one point. I even found my watch, which was missing for a week or so.

Since we are moving to the same neighborhood I used to live in, I am pretty sure I will still be “cool,” but in a 32 yr old kind of way. I am feeling so bittersweet about going back, but I really HATE Brooklyn. It’s just not for me. It’s great place, but I really don’t belong here. I lived in The Bronx for 7 years and never felt like I was out of place. I go back there to this day and am filled with disgusting amounts of energy ( and copious amounts of beer) and am surrounded by such comfortable friends, both new and old. There is no place (for the time being) that I would rather live. Plus, a two bedroom is so much more appealing than the sardine can studio Captain Clam and I are currently sharing with our animal roommates.

ANYWAY… I came across my journals from long, long ago ( like, 4 years +), and have been reading them. All secrets out, I have always wanted to be writer. This blog might be the closest I ever get… But I was reading this stuff from years ago, and was shocked at what I was saying. Of course, I had a few beers and was cleaning and thought that all of my words were complete poetry (and some of it is  poetry)… I thought I’d share with you.

Some of it’s a little “debbie-downer,” but it is definitely a reflection of what I was going through during those years. I was sick and sad, stuck in a relationship that was never going to go anywhere. I was almost finished with school and had no idea what I was going to do with myself (as if that is ever gonna happen!).

So here goes. Stephanie Janecek (copy written, so don’t copy me) is open to the public: vulnerable and naked (in a metaphorical sense, of course, also, I usually have no pants on when I am writing these blogs).

2007-ish

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The drop of a hat

The drop if a dime

You held the rhythm

I held the rhyme

How sweet life was

Back in time

When music was simple

And love was sublime

2008

Awake

Awake.

All night.

How clever of the sun

To creep through the window

So slowly

At such an ungodly hour.

My eyes hardly blink

And I find

Allah in my rolodex,

Buddha in my reflection,

And Jesus in my rearview.

They show up

Uninvited.

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The music played

And I fell in love with the night

So sexy, with arms embracing

My cold shoulders.

I flirted relentlessly

Hoping the wine

And my smile

Would  steal the show.

The harmony persisted

And my face

Became a memory

Lost in a Cabernet Cabaret.

Summer 2008

Anguished children

neighbored by the beaten

raped

murdered,

The river has dried

And driven

Nature to be a fantom memory

Along with humanity

Compassion,

Equality.

Darwin’s theory

Takes an economical twist

Excluding the Rich,

Spoiled…

Greedy.

Victory does not come to those who deserve it,

But comes to those

Who pay for it.

2009 – ish

Haiku 1

Golden sunshine sky

Lazy afternoon cocktail

Careless summer ease

Haiku 3

Optimism Chart

Northernly navigation

Exclamation points!

February 2010

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The talking machine is on again.

Mundane things have become so important.

I don’t leave my house,

And yet complain about the weather.

March 2010-ish

Haiku: Cat

Golden eyes open

Greets the day with purr and mew

Then goes back to sleep.

April 2010

Haiku: Music

Save my soul old friend

Count the days until the end

You…. stuck in my head.

I’ll save some of these little gems (and longer entries from my train adventures) and share on a rainy Saturday after the move. For now, my old notebooks are headed for a cardboard box labeled “Books.”

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