Is it really better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

This post I'll talk about some regrets I have.  And specifically about my love or lack thereof love life.  Growing up, I was that nerdy girl that everyone made fun of.  I had huge permed hair, it was the 80s, huge glasses, again the style of the 80s, and was so shy.  My senior year of high school I finally got contacts, but by then, it was too late. Everyone already knew me as I was.  Going away to college was a whole new world for me.  Away from parents, and feeling halfway attractive, I made the most of it.  I made out a lot my freshman year, with a couple guys.  And then my first real boyfriend.  My first time wasn't really my choice, but I'll say I got myself into the situation, and I let him get me naked, and so when I said no and went to get out of the bed, but he pulled me back in and then before I could get away, the deed was done.  He wasn't a big guy, well, sexually speaking, and so honestly, it didn't hurt, in fact I can't remember much about how it felt, other than the shock of it happening.  Not knowing what to do, and feeling it was my fault, after it was over, and he asked me if I was okay, all I could think to do was ask him to do it again so that I could get something out of it this time.  He broke up with me shortly after that.  He'd been a virgin too, and we really weren't a good match. But there you go.  After that, I let him call me almost the whole next school year for the whole friends with benefits thing. The sex wasn't great, but it felt kind of good, and my friends were sexually active, so it was just what I did.  I tried for a while to keep it like I'd thought, I wanted to wait till a real relationship. So the next guy, well I didn't do anything with him, and he dumped me. Then I met some guys and things got a little crazy for a while when I got over the whole waiting for a serious guy for sex.  I just began to enjoy it, a lot. Then they all moved away, and I met a new, younger guy.  An Italian guy, and we had so much to talk about with how our families were so much alike. I had sex with him once or twice, it wasn't great, but I still remember it.  Then the next guy was a guy that was the best out of anyone.  When I need to remember a good time, and how good sex can be, it is the time with him I think on.  While we reconnected later on, you know when Facebook became more common, and even talked on the phone and even considered getting together again, we just didn't have much connection.  But he is where my regrets start. And these may sound crazy and selfish.

But sometimes, now that I can no longer have kids, and have no kids, I wish I'd done something really irresponsible and gotten pregnant when I'd had the chance. While it would have sucked in college, at least now I could be a mom.  This last guy I mentioned, he wanted so bad to be a dad when I had almost gotten back with him, I wish I'd at least given that a chance. Again, if the relationship didn't work out, I'd still have a kid maybe, and he'd be a great dad, is with his wife and young daughter.  So it's not like I'd have been hurting anyone really.

This is a stupid selfish post.  I know.  But things are percolating in my head with all the big news around the country right now about abortion.  Maybe I couldn't actually have ever gotten pregnant. But now I'll never know.  And I'll never have the chance to have my own child.  So call it a selfish wish that a mistake would have happened, that I would have been as careful as I was, but those are the kinds of regrets I have these days.

Why am I here?

For awhile now I've thought about making a new blog where I can post my depressed thoughts and regrets.  You see, I don't really have anyone in my life that I would consider a BFF.  A best friend.  Someone I can call and talk to and count on no matter what.  I've had times in the past where I thought I had that.  But I learned I didn't.  I learned no one really was that way for me.  Family.  I love them.  I do.  They come first in my life.  And for the most part, I know they'll be there if I really need them.  But I find that when it is maybe an emotional need, they aren't there.  They don't get it. 

If I post complaints, regrets, etc. on places like Facebook, because I live alone and have no one to talk to at home, and no friends or family to just call with those things, then I'm told that I'm putting things out on social media that I should keep to myself.  So guess what.  I'm starting a new blog just for this.  I don't care if anyone reads it.  That's not my goal.  It's like a journal, like blogs started out, right?  It's a place for me to get my feelings out.  So yeah. 

What finally got me going?  Well, my landlord offered to move everything in my basement to storage so he could begin renovating it like he wanted to.  But then he ended up just putting it all in the garage, and now I have to leave my car sitting in the driveway until I move it.  He said he'd give me a credit on my rent to not have to move it.  Well, that's great, but it's getting into storm season, in fact we had hail last night.  It was small, marble or smaller sized hail, so no damage.  But tomorrow night is supposed to be more bad storms.  Last night, my mom and stepdad said they'd come over and see about helping me move the shelves with my stepdad's truck.  You see, I can only get about 5 or 6 boxes in my car at a time. So taking loads to the storage place takes a while.  I was happy they were going to help by loaning or driving the truck for me. But they came over tonight, looked in my garage and decided there was too much there for them to help.  All I wanted was help getting the big shelves over!  Or even if they'd let me load up the back of his truck, so many more boxes at at a time, which would have meant less trips for me. But no.  I think they maybe thought I expected them to do it for me.  It's not that.  I know my stepdad is getting older and has had shoulder surgery, and shouldn't lift a lot.  I just really needed the truck bed, and I would have done as much as the actual lifting myself as I could. 

So I came home.  Had a cry.  My depression and anxiety med seems to be working, and I've been trying to cut back on it.  My cry helped.  But I didn't spiral down like I used to into where I got to thinking that I didn't want to be around.  I was able to just know I needed the cry. 

Last night my niece got really upset when she accidentally through the ball we were playing with and it hit me in the face.  Her mom and dad (my brother) immediately kind of said her name in a parent disapproving way.  She got really upset, ran to her mom and started crying, saying she'd ruined everything.  She wanted to go upstairs and be away from everyone.  Eventually my sister-in-law came back down and left her upstairs crying.  She's 7 years old.  I decided to go up and see if I could get her to calm down.  It took a bit, but I asked her what was wrong and finally got her to open up to me a little bit.  She mentioned something about how her daddy talked to her, and I got what she was saying.  My stepdad sometimes talks to me in a way, even now as an adult, that makes me want to cry.  Makes me feel bad.  I hope I helped her by talking to her.   But if my one thing I do in this life is help her not feel bad, help her to not become depressed in any way that I can, that will make me feel like my life was worth it. 

Because I'm alone.  I'll never find anyone to love me and marry me.  I am unable to have kids even if I wanted to. Although I do think about maybe adopting or fostering some day.  And as I mentioned at the beginning, I do not have any real best friends.  But I'm okay with that.  I get it.  I'm here, I have to make the most of this life, and I've decided to do the things that make me happy.  And get my feelings out the way I need to.  I guess with this blog.

I've got a whole post I want to do with regrets, and I'll do that one of these days as well.