An Answer!

 Well, I got an answer. It wasn't the one I wanted, but it's an answer and I'm relieved to finally. I'm pretty sure Fares blocked me on LinkedIn. His profile is no longer visible to me. Which tells me maybe he DOES remember me and not so fondly. Which is what I wanted to know. 

I'm a little sad, because I didn't want to reconnect and speak with him. But at least now I know he's out there. I guess. I don't know 100% that that was him, but there's a high probability. 

I wish him well. I wish I had gotten to speak with him, but I wish him well in life.

Is there anyone out there?

 I can't tell if this is posting or not. I don't know if anyone is reading this. I'm just putting this out to the Universe. I just realized how hard it is to find me on Google because in North Carolina there are towns with my name. Anyone looking for me is going to get a geography lesson about NC. :/

So if Fares ever looked for me, he would not have found me. I've tried to make myself easier to find, but that still requires him to look again. If he ever looked the first time.

I'm putting this out to the Universe that I want Fares to find me. Please look for me......

So even if no one else is reading this, at least it's out there.

Unfinished Business

 I can't stop thinking about Fares. Several weeks ago I prayed about this situation, because it just wasn't going away. So I prayed. The next morning, something sent me to LinkedIn. I go on there about once every 6 months. It's rare I go there. I searched his name. I typed Fares and before I got 4 letters into the last name a photo popped up. My heart started racing because I think "It's HIM!" I sat on it for a day then decided to be an adult and clicked "connect" with a vague message of "I think I know you". I should have added a little more detail to that in case he saw it in his email and shrugged it off.

That was about 3 weeks ago, maybe 4 now and he hasn't responded. It's still listed as Pending, so he didn't reject me, but he also hasn't responded. 

This is insane, but I cannot stop thinking about Fares. NOT in a romantic way, this was never about that. At least not for me. But I just feel like I need to talk to him. Unfortunately, on LinkenIn, you have to have a premium membership to send messages to someone you are not connected to. BOTH parties have to have it. Since I can't presume he does, I have to wait and see if he ever connects with me.

WHY would I be led to LinkedIn to be sitting in pending purgatory? I keep waiting and praying for his well-being. Because I feel like SOMETHING is pushing me toward reconnecting with him.

Haunted by my poor decisions

 I read a lot. I recently finished a great historical novel about Nancy Wake, who was a soldier in the French Resistance during WWII. Again, a GREAT book, called Code Name Helene. Of course, reading about France brought up the thoughts of of my pen pals, specifically Fares. I'm putting it out there to the Universe that I'd like to find out how he is. But I can't find his letters anymore. I think I lost them in a move ten years ago. And I never knew how to spell his last name properly. So I'm not likely to find him on my own.

I don't know what I expect. Like, what, I miraculously find him, he remembers me fondly, totally forgives me and we are BFF's? I get absolution from him for being an asshole to him almost 30 years ago? But since I have hit a dead end in finding him, he would have to be the one to look for me. And that's not likely to happen, right? Unless he's out there searching for Hope Broadway that went to NC State in the 1990s and lived in Carroll Hall and then Alexander Hall. He probably burnt my letters back in the day after I blew him off and then never thought of me again. Because that's what you do when someone is rude to you. I'm so sorry. You deserved better. I owe you thanks, too, because you DID make me think and you gave me INXS. I hope you are doing well, that you got married to an amazing woman, had 4 kids and now have 8 grandkids and more on the way and have a nice, comfortable life.

I can't even tell if anyone is reading this.

Music

 I posted this meme to Facebook earlier today that said "Empaths don't just listen to music for entertainment it's a spiritual experience when we listen to music we like, it does something to our soul." 

And that is so truth. EVERY thing in my life connects to music. Every experience. Every moment. The song "When I See You Smile" reminds me of the time period just after my dad's death. I was packing to go to my grandmother's for his funeral (he lived in a different town) and that song was on the radio. It was so fitting for the whole situation.

Music is just so tied into my life. I think about college and the music associated with it. 

I think about times with my best friend, a fellow empath. We ALWAYS had music going. 

Music is this beautiful, amazing thing.

What's poppin?

 I don't update this blog nearly as often as I should. It's been almost 4 years since I posted about Fares. Still think about him. That's what I do, overthink and obsess about missteps I made 25 years ago. I still wish I could apologize to him. Would be interested to see where he ended up in life.

Not even sure anyone is out there reading this. If you are, cheers! I hope you're having a good year so far. January has been.... interesting. We did have a good Holiday season, though. My Christmas tree is still up. I left our Easter wreath on the door until November. I probably won't leave the tree up that long.....

We have been able to survive this global pandemic. It's been almost two years. Edgar finished first grade and did all of second grade virtually. My job basically closed down. I went from 40 hours a week to maybe ten. It got crazy scary for awhile, but we made it through. At least it allowed me to stay home with Edgar. I eventually got back up to 20 hours or so a week, partly in the office and partly at home. Since September, I've been back in the office 30 hours a week and Edgar is back in school in-person for third grade. I must admit, I miss being home with him. Allen worked pretty much the whole pandemic, although they did go to a rotation of three days on, six days off in small groups for a little while. No one was in the buildings, so they didn't need to do many repairs, just preventative stuff. Between his salary, stimulus funds and unemployment in 2020, we have managed to get by. We even adopted a pair of cats in 2020 - siblings. A boy and a girl. They've been good companions for Edgar.

We survived, but I have not thrived. Other people were learning new things, baking banana bread and working out. I was not. I've been fighting my anxiety and depression. I've been in my head almost the whole time. There were weeks when I didn't go out, I didn't want to be around people. It was frightening. The politicalization of the pandemic has just been so mind blowing. Like what in the actual fuck is wrong with people?

We lost some people, extended family members, church members.... That was incredibly sad. Just heartbreaking and also enraging, because it was so unnecessary. We've had extended family get the virus and fight it off. We have been so blessed to have avoided it. Part of it is because I stay the fuck at home. When I do go out, I'm masked. I got my vaccine. It's not that hard. I have gotten a lot of reading done and seen some movies, binged a lot of shows on all the streaming services we have. I try not to think about how we can't control our circles. Like we come into contact with my colleagues, Allen's colleagues, Edgar's teachers and classmates. And who are THOSE people coming into contact with. It just widens our circle of exposure. And when I let myself think about it, my anxiety spirals. So I try NOT to think about it and just do what I can to stay safe.

What's scary is I have allergies and they have been acting UP for the past two years. CONSTANTLY. I also get headaches and have other issues. Like I have more issues than Life magazine. and EVERY ONE of them have the same symptoms as the 'Rona. So when it all acts up, I don't know what's going on. So far, though, it's just been my other health issues. No 'Rona in this house! 

I won't even try to talk about all of the unrest in this country. I have seen it and been appalled by it. People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. Recognizing that and being a fucking good human shouldn't be political. So while I don't agree with property damage, I think denying human rights is a lot worse. That said, straight anarchy isn't going to do any cause any good or help the problem. We have to sort this out and fix the problems, though. Pro tip: you can't base your life in hate and call yourself a Christian.

We are here. I'm glad you still are.

Fares B.

A few years ago I started reading a book series by Cara Black about a private detective in Paris. The first book was set in 1994 and centered around hate crimes against Jewish people and the murder of a WWII survivor. It was a great book and I highly recommend the series. Beyond it being a great book, it resonated with me for a personal reason.
In college, I had two French pen pals. I started writing them during my freshman year. My next door neighbor had three pen pals and she gave me the addresses for two of them. One of them was a blonde haired surfer guy. He was really cool and even visited me once. We lost contact as school got harder and I got a boyfriend. I did look for and find him on Facebook after reading that book. We don't talk much as we're both married with children and working. But he's out there.
The other guy I did not find, though I looked. I really wanted to tell him something. A few weeks ago, this all came back up for me after reading a blog post about INXS. And I still felt like I needed to tell him something.
My pen pal's name is Fares. His last name starts with a B. Part of the reason​ I couldn't find him a few years ago is that I probably spelled his name wrong. He always asked me not to butcher his name but he never would email me so I had it in a readable format. He wrote with a block handwriting that I just couldn't fully decipher.
The relationship had a rocky start. He couldn't understand why my neighbor stopped writing him and I hated being in the middle. He kept asking me what was the matter with her and I didn't know what to tell him that wouldn't be insulting. She thought he was weird. I don't think he was. But he was INTENSE. He was very political and tried to explain it to me. He tried to tell me about the prejudice and hatred toward Jewish people and other immigrants in France, including his family. I didn't get it. I had seen racism. I was born in the South after all. But I thought it was black and white. That was the extent of my experience with racist people. I thought if your skin was light you wouldn't have a problem.
I naively thought antisemitism had been shut down. He tried to tell me how wrong I was. At 18, I wasn't ready for the knowledge he was trying to impart. I just wanted to exchange letters with a cute French boy. And he was cute. He was also more socially aware than I was. It's not that I didn't care. But after he told me, I didn't know what I could do to help.
We tried to talk about other things, likes and dislikes and such. We shared cassette tapes. He sent me an INXS tape once. It was before I really discovered them. I thought they were all Devil Inside and Suicide Blonde. I got into them later. But at the time, I thought the tape, Shabooh Shoobah, was weird. I wound up giving it to a friend. What a jerk move. :/ Who knows what it cost him to send that and it was probably his personal tape! The irony is, one of my favorite songs of theirs, Don't Change, is off that album! After reading the blog about them, I binged listened to them. Don't Change makes me so sad. I was in a funk for days, thinking about 19 year old me and what I'd wasted. Mostly my relationship with Fares.
What I wish I could say to him is that I'm sorry and he deserved better. I'm sorry for being a blockhead. I'm sorry for being put off by your intensity. I'm sorry I stopped writing you. I wish I could find you to see how you turned out. I hope you have a happy home and that you've found acceptance in your country. I hope you have forgiven me. I hope when you think of me, IF you think of me, that you don't think I was a stupid hopeless case. I hope my airheadedness didn't put you off of other people from my demographic. And I hope you're still working for the underdog. I also want to say thank you. Thank you for trying to help me grow.

Anxiety

I actually wrote this on 6/28/17, but it still stands and is exacerbated more by the shooting last week. My son is 5. 

 There's a quote from the movie Con Air that goes something to the effect of "moments of levity actually bring him pain..." That's how I feel. I live my life constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. When we're at the gym for family swim and we're all playing in the pool, I ache because I don't want those moments of happiness to end, but I'm so anxious about what could happen. If we're cooking together, I find the moment ruined by my own fears. This is at war with my tendency to view the glass as half full. But I lay in bed at night, listening for the boogieman at the back door. Every time I get in the car, I wonder if this is the day we get hit. I constantly have terrible thoughts. Is someone going to hurt Edgar? The lobby in his preschool is not very secure, someone could easily get into his school. Can we let him play sports? I recently read an article about athletes sexually assaulting their teammates and calling it hazing. I can't let him go into a locker room. Or to a teammate's house.The coaches aren't watching. Because if they watch, then they're perverts! But if they don't watch, the sickos on the team will hurt Edgar. The parents aren't watching because they don't think their little angels would do that. Or what if it's a third party?! If we teach him self defense, how many could he fight off? Will he be as tall and as big as I think he's going to be? Is he going to get sick? Is Allen going to get sick? Am *I* going to get sick? On and on ad nauseam.... It is painful. And exhausting. I can't sleep at night, so I take naps when I know Edgar is with Allen. Or am I napping because I'm sick? What did that internet ad mean about puffy feet being a sign of cancer? I have puffy feet, but I thought it was because my medicine makes me retain water. Do I have cancer? Why is my heart racing? Do I have a heart condition?!!? Why is the blood pounding in my ears? Am I going to have an aneurysm? I bet I have a brain tumor. Will it kill me or will I just become a vegetable? My body is a ticking time bomb. My car and other cars are ticking time bombs. Whacked out gang bangers are going to break down our back door any day and kidnap Edgar to sell on the black market, after bludgeoning me and Allen in our bed. And no one will know because no one here would miss us for at least 2 days. And by then, Bullitt will have eaten my face. And where would they look for Edgar. I wonder if I could scratch my attacker and get his DNA. This nurse was raped one time and she scratched her attacker to get DNA and some fool actually argued that that meant compliance with the assault. Could I get to the closet and get a weapon to fight? My baseball bat is all the way in the closet, but if I put it back under the bed, Edgar will play with it and probably knock out the bedroom window. Yes, this is an actual scenario I fretted about the other night. Last night, I told Allen we needed to open the window and air out our bedroom this weekend. He said "It's a mild night, let's open it tonight." And I said "That ain't happening. I'm not sleeping with an open window. Two words 'Richard Ramirez'." He actually said "Who?" Who? WHO!? The Night Stalker! He would break into houses and strangle people in their beds. He said he actually looked for open windows. So, no. No thank you. I will NOT be sleeping with an open window! Because if a psycho is going to break in, he's going to have to work for it! I pray. I pray a lot. I pray throughout the day and at night before bed. I know if I'm not comforted, then that means I'm doing it wrong. Because if I were right in my faith, I'd have no worries, right? I can't just turn anything over to God. Not the nightmare scenarios I come up with. Not the real problems we actually face. I just can't let go of these fears. So maybe God's teaching me a lesson. I don't have enough faith, so things continue as they are. No solution appears. It's my fault for continuing to worry. God is not going to answer because I'm still worrying about it, even after I prayed about it. Maybe it's because I studied criminal justice. Maybe it's because I worked for a police department. Maybe it's a hold over from all of the things that HAVE happened over the years. I know the Evil that people can do to one another. I know too much and it clouds my brain. Maybe there's just something wrong with me. I'm sorry.