Rupture.

I was silent, busy, content. No turmoil meant that I puttered about taking care of Peanut, feathering my nest and settling in. The calmness that came before the storm, I suppose. We have come back to the insecurity of a relationship built on wishes. He wanted to escape and everything I thought I knew came crashing down. But it was one time too many, because when he bounced back and decided things were okay again, I didn't. I haven't. It was a few months ago. And I haven't been able to find anything to save since then. Maybe we've just changed. I don't feel love here. And I feel blank.

I'm not breaking down. I'm not weeping uncontrollably. I'm not begging him to reconsider. I'm just watching and listening and making plans. It's all spun a little too far out of control. The thoughts that were brought on keep making web upon web until an entirely new home has been created in mid-air. What if this was over? What if I had to make a new home, a new life with Peanut? What would that look like? They haunt me. They tempt and delight me. These thoughts of starting new, of someday finding a love that went both ways. I have stayed and searched for anything worth holding on to. I did it for Peanut. I did it for us. But the chasm of empty feelings and loaded words has driven us to opposite sides. He's going to play the part of The Good Man. I'm left with the part of Destroyer of Families. It doesn't matter who wrote it. The only thing that matters anymore is to find a happy little piece of world to thrive in. Love, smiles, laughter-maybe not all the time, but at least when it got bad I could rest assured that it began in love.

Maybe it's time to let go of my castle of sand. When I opened my eyes I saw it was crumbling. I just don't know how to get out. It's a big, beautiful, scary world out there if I could wipe the last grains from my eyes and see it.

Humpty Dumpty

The problem with leaving home, breaking out, traveling slow is that you can't go back. Not in the same way, at least. You can move your geographical location anywhere on the planet, including your starting point, but you will never be in that place again. It's different. And now pieces of the heart, mind and soul beg to once again eat a plate of spicy spaghetti in the piazza, or take a walk with a friend by the lighthouse, or meet up for beers in the pub, on the beach or in the backyard. Missing friends, family and the easiness of another life can drive a person crazy. So how can we go anywhere?

We've been talking about California. I've been daydreaming about California the way I used to daydream about Italy. The lush desire for possibility is what pulls us in one direction or another, constantly back and forth. My heart is in Italy. My heart is in California. Both sides of a wall and I'm torn. Because I cannot choose one home over another. There is no clear answer because it's all shades of gray. It does not even really matter which side I'm on, because there will always be another side that I loved, and someone else I love to miss. I'm always saying goodbye. With one foot out of the door, I'd really like to pull my leg back in, sit down and stay awhile. But on which side should we stay? Pieces are everywhere and it isn't clear which are most vital.

I left home but that doesn't mean it ceased existing. Instead it split and divided and I made more homes, fell in love with people and places around the world and still left bits behind. I am not the me I was when I left; that me will never go back. So I scatter parts and love blindly and eat sublimely and the price I pay is paid in changing currencies. We don't ever stay where we're put. Ever. The most difficult thing about leaving home is depositing your pieces elsewhere (and with all the world's men) knowing that we'll never stay all together again.

The New Year.

Happy New Year from the boot! This past year has been a crazy one, filled with ups and downs and all-arounds. From a tumultuous beginning with Cazz, to the unexpected arrival of Peanut, I have had my share of adventures. I have accomplished getting a long-term permesso di soggiorno thanks to Peanut, and have a life and friends here that I could only dream of when I first arrived. Of course, it isn't what I thought it would look like, but what ever is? I am content, but I will not be giving up on an adventure-filled life, brimming with travel and learning and beauty.

For the year 2011 I resolve to squeeze every last bit of sweetness out of the passing days, even when they bring a shot of bitterness with them. I will not take for granted the passing hours, seeing Peanut grow and thrive and the loveliness that fills each day. I will strive to be a more positive person, let go of things in the past that do not make me feel worthwhile and seek out opportunities of the future that will. I will travel lightly, making space for things that uplift me, while leaving behind those that weigh me down. I will travel more. I will make gratitude a part of my daily routine. These are resolutions of the spirit.

Of course I have resolutions that can be measured as well. Learning to drive a stick-shift, saving up money for a baking and pastry-arts course, eating more nutritiously and learning to cook something other than eggs and spaghetti are those that take up the top spaces on my list. As for the rest, I will have to make them up as I go. 2011 is upon us, so hold on tight. We're going for a ride.

The Ghosts of Thanksgivings Past.

Thanksgiving has come again, and instead of focusing on what I am grateful for, I am feeling intense guilt. Having spent much of the evening (and too much of my life) on the internet seeking out ex-flames, I conclude the search by crashing and burning. I am burning because I have never really released my ghosts, and holding onto all of this energy prevents me from moving forward. From being thankful for what I have. I have to let go so that I may hold on.

The wave of remorse hit me as I found my ex-loves/partners/friends in wedding attire, or holding onto children or smiling with the new most important people in their lives. Being loved so fiercely by these men who I ended up unintentionally hurting so, and then seeing them so happy with someone else (having moved on completely) has caused my own uncomfortable realization that I haven't let go though I am the one who ended things. I haven't let go of them, or forgiven myself for the pain I caused. I couldn't love them the way they deserved, though I wanted to with every fiber of my being. I wanted to be with them. I wanted to be free. And I could not reconcile the two, so I broke away in the worst ways and left them reeling. And I never felt that it was completely over. I could not make myself let go of them, even after I pushed them away. I have held onto pictures, letters and memories, stuffing them into secret pockets of my soul because I wanted to be loved. I still want to be loved. And I want to be forgiven.

I am ashamed of my actions. I am ashamed that I couldn't make it work and that I hurt people. And I have to forgive myself. I am an imperfect person and I am still learning. I have not always acted in the best way, but I have never been malicious. I feel sad that they moved on because I have a tremendous need to be loved the most, but I have to forgive myself for this as well. I want to wish them well. I want to be so happy for them and not feel the sting of rejection, or regret. And so I am letting them go. One by one.

M- I loved you fiercely. You were living with someone and we fell for each other. You left her (to her: I am sorry for this) and we began a strong romance. But I didn't know how to be with someone. I was selfish because I was young and it was new to me, and I was just getting to know myself. I wanted to be the brightest, most carefree person in the world. In your world. I wanted to shine and laugh forever. I blinded you with my light, but I couldn't keep it up. I was not the brightest, most carefree person and I couldn't laugh forever because I could be bitter and sad and boring. I didn't want to be boring. And so I strained against my own boredom, and my unhappiness that I was not what I wanted most to be. And so it ended. I broke a bit of your heart, and a bit of mine. I am happy for you and your beautiful wife. I forgive myself for my imperfection.

R- I met you on the tail-end (and perhaps overlapping the unclear end) of that other relationship. I was looking for distraction. I found you. It was a country I was unfamiliar with and you were my life-raft. You were amazingly handsome and blew a new energy into my soul. It was an intense relationship. I was head over heels for you and amazed at my luck. I was the brightest with the loudest laugh. I thought this was it. This was the love that we wait a lifetime for. That lasts a lifetime. We lived, we laughed, we made forever-plans. And yet something was nagging. I was afraid. Deathly afraid of what this commitment meant. A beautiful country, but a country I was not entirely familiar with. I was unable to give up so much. My country, my family, my home. To be a new person. I relied entirely (too much) on you. My insecurity was comforted by your strong arms. And you loved me so, so much. But I couldn't see a way to make it work. To give up everything I knew, everything I was before and move there to become a shadow afraid of its shadow. And so I went back and forth, not wanting to give you up and not wanting to give me up. I hurt you so much by this indecision. You deserved better. You told me I was "the woman of [your] life". I still sometimes wish I could have been. But I would have broken down if I had come to you with anything less than positivity about my course of action. And so I let you go. And in moments I regret it. It was a great love. And now you have another great love, whose picture I have seen. Another American girl a bit like me. But she is always smiling in those photos. She is adventurous and she is making her own life there, with you. She is wearing her wedding dress. And you deserve this great happiness from someone who is sure she is where she should be. You both do. I am so happy that you can be happy because you have such a pure heart. I still feel such a love for you that it is going to sting. But it will pass, and I wish you happiness always. And I forgive myself for being afraid and unsure. For being human.

And now, having met Cazz at the tail and broken end of that relationship, I have moved into a new space. There are times when I am not sure. There are times when I feel sad, or dejected or angry. When I feel that I am boring, or bored. There are times when I don't know how to live with another person and I get it wrong. I can be bitter and bossy and needy. But I can be brave. I can step forward never knowing where this road will lead. I can be bright, shine and laugh. I can make my own life here in a country that didn't start as my own, but begins to be more and more as each day passes. I can love with all my heart and protect fiercely. I can be intriguing and honest and good. I can laugh and cause laughter. I can be positive and trust that I am where I should be. And so I forgive myself, and let go of these ghosts because I have my future here before my eyes, waiting for me to live it. I am thankful for second (and third, and fourth) chances. I am thankful for my beautiful baby and for getting the opportunity to meet such challenges head on. I am thankful for my past loves for teaching me to love better and stronger. And I am thankful for all of you who stick with me when I seem absent or unreliable, because it is you who help pull me through to the other side where there is light.

Sweet Dreams

My recent thoughts have been sweet, because I'm thinking about getting an education in the art of baking and pastry. I was scouring the internet recently, looking at photos of wedding cakes, etc. when it hit me...I should do this! I've already taken a course in cake decorating, which I loved, and upon watching so many hours of Top Chef in which I lament the fact that I could not become a chef due to my intense dislike (okay, that's a nice way of putting it) of onions, bell peppers, and looking at bloody things, I realized that cooking does not only mean savory. So I decided that sweets are the way to go, having never met a pastry I didn't like. Now I just have to find an affordable program and put my dreams into action.

In the meantime, babysitting 24 hours a day can be exhausting, but also rewarding. Some days I am at the end of my rope, but then a sweet smile from Peanut will pick me right back up. Some days I would give my left foot for an hour by myself. I'm very ready for our vacation by the sea this upcoming week with Cazz's mom and brother-which mean loving babysitters while I take a quick dip. Of course having a sweet, needing little baby, while at times frustrating, will be something I miss when he gets bigger and can voice his own opinions and run around on his own legs pursuing dreams of his own.

Scene Changes.

When Life enters, Life changes. Every ray of sun is brighter and still doesn't outshine that perfect smile. Every shadow is darker and still not as dark as a single tear. Every moment is shorter, but worth more. And the fear of mortality mixed with the joy of living creates the background upon which each element is enhanced. Never before have I been able to imagine with such clarity what despair would look like as I can when I think of how I would feel if something happened to Peanut. Love changes everything for better or worse. For better and worse. Love changes.

Each day is marked by something trivial. The monumental minutiae. His first smile, or coo, or when he lifts his head or cocks a tiny eyebrow when mamma tries to make a joke. When he winks at a girl or sticks out his lower lip and melts every heart in the room. His lacrime di cocodrillo, crocodile tears. Sweet cunning.

Is there anything more terrifying or beautiful than absolute love? Is there any more contradictory feeling than the mother who feels at once connected and absolutely alone? The curtain has been pulled and the third act revealed with life naked center stage. I'm so excited to see where it is going and how the scene changes.

Peanut Gallery.

The days have taken on a steady rhythm: feed the small creature, change him, pick him up, put him down, try to nap/shower/eat and repeat. He's very good and even sleeps most of the night, making me a very lucky new mother. In the evenings he gets a little fussy and wants to be attached to his food source (me) for hours on end, which can be quite exhausting. But I still think he is the most adorable little person in the world, even if my hands are rarely free to do anything that doesn't involve him. Cazz is thrilled and I am content. And Peanut is tranquilo.

Unfortunately the lack of free hands leaves me little time to blog, as I've noticed that almost a month has gone by since the last post. My technological time is spent uploading pictures of the little man and sending them to family and friends, creating a gallery of this creature that is now such a big part of my world. But in moments like these, where Peanut is napping peacefully on Cazz's chest, I'm here and I'm yours. Thanks for sticking with me.