A lesson learned during Thanksgiving break

I'd like to interrupt the recent blogs of poetry to get some things off my chest. Besides, that's what blogs are for, right?

Since I've opened Life With LuDo I haven't been as forward as I used to be with my blogs. I've held back a lot of stuff that I would have written here, and I'm not sure why.

Maybe it was because work and school have kept me busy. Maybe it was because the Cubs kept me happy. Maybe it's because I'm afraid people will be bothered by what I write.

Well tonight, that ends. Because I have things to get off of my chest.

First, I'd like to note that my Thanksgiving break was absolutely wonderful. It was great to be home in the great city of Chicago with my friends and family. It was also fun to be able to listen to a morning show that wasn't a complete suckfest (Yay for DreX!!!) and some quality sports talk radio (Yay for 670 The Score!!!)

My night at the bar was memorable and lived up to all of the hype I heard from my friends. I loved it to the point that I already can't wait 'til the next celebration.

Thanksgiving dinner was amazing, and that description doesn't do justice. We had deep fried turkey, smoked turkey, honey ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, Mom's famous macaroni and cheese, Mama's famous arroz con gandules, Roy's famous ribs, and so much more.

Having Thanksgiving at my house was a blast. And I tell you what, there's nothing like waking up Thanksgiving morning with a nasty hangover and a pain in your body because you slipped and fell while "cranking dat soulja boy."

And then there was my early X-mas gift which I am thankful for.

However, there is just one thing from my vacation that is bothering me. It's a lesson that I learned, and hopefully I can (finally) learn from my own words: "Be careful what you wish for, it just might come true."

I arrived in Chicago on Sunday afternoon after a long night of being wasted in Carbondale and settled in to watch the Bears game against the Seahawks (which they would eventually lose.) At half-time, my mother needed to go to the store and she needed her chauffer to take her there. And that's where the story gets interesting.

While driving on a cold and rainy afternoon, I should have seen it coming. My mother started the conversation with, "I've got a date for you."

"Awesome, I'll shave tonight," I responded thinking my mother had set me up on a blind date.

"No, it's a wedding date," she replied. "Oh yay," I thought to myself. I love weddings and haven't been to one in a while. I joke around with friends of mine that are in relationships that they should hurry up and get married so I can go to their wedding, get drunk and have a time of it.

My mother responded: "I know I shouldn't be bringing this up while you're driving, but it's Vanessa's."

I was shocked.

Before there was "hot, blonde and southern" there was Vanessa, the original girl of my dreams. I call dibs on that line there because I pulled it from a poem about her that I have been working on since May.

Long story short: Vanessa's mom and my mom are really good friends and always thought we'd make a good trouble. As children, we crushed on each other and had our puppy love, but nothing ever came of it. We came close in high school when I finally realized she had liked me, but nothing ever materialized.

She dated other people in high school. I didn't date anyone.

A part of my blames my mother, who knew Vanessa liked me. I wish she would have said something, then I definitely would have made a move. But who am I kidding, it's things like this that make me believe that I would have just screwed it up anyway.

So anyway, back to the story. It's Vanessa, one of those classic "one's that got away" stories, that is getting married on August 8th 2008.

That's right 08/08/08. Let me note that she's a big Cubs fan (as am I) and that date (08/08/08) marks the 20th anniversary of the first Cubs night game at Wrigley Field. Now if that doesn't tie things together in a nice lil' package, I don't know what will.

That moment there marked the end of a strange week where the Cancer women who make my life miserable broke my heart twice in a three day period.

I guess since I'm on my soap box, I might as well dive into that topic too. But I'll keep this short and brief (heck, I'll summarize it with one solid punchline.)

"There's nothing like being woken up by the girl of your dreams telling you that there is a girl that has a crush on you. Unfortunately, it wasn't her."

That's how I felt the Friday before Thanksgiving break when I got a call that a certain girl might like me. I felt terrible, because I didn't share those feelings. And as much as I say that I want to play the heart breaker because it might give me a sense of redemption after all of the times I've been rejected or heart broken....being the heart breaker isn't the role I truly wanted.

That set off the awkward confessional I had later telling "the girl of my dreams" that I couldn't date her friend (who may or may not have had a crush on me) because I still had feelings for her. And that if I dated her, all I could think about would be what coulda, woulda and shoudla been. And really that does her friend a real injustice, because she's a nice girl and doesn't deserve that.

And I didn't wanna be that guy.

Then came the well I kinda used to like you at one point, but I'm glad that we never dated because we're still great friends part of the conversation, which sent me on a "oh my gosh what have I done" trip.

Seriously, now I really get to think about what woulda, coulda and shoulda been. I've spent time in the last two weeks since that day thinking about where I went wrong. And then came the gut check question of the year: "is having a best friend worth losing the possible girl of your dreams?"

I still haven't come with a conclusion for that one.

(AND THIS IS WHERE I TIE IT UP NICELY AT THE END)

The way I see it, this girl that I'm talking about...this girl is what I thought Vanessa was going to be. What she has, I've always wanted in a girl. And the idea that I could have had it, saddens me.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have a best friend understands everything about you...but at what cost?

In the end, the feeling I felt when I found out Vanessa was getting married will happen twice more because of the Cancer women in my life.

The funny thing about it is that my mother loves the three of them (of course my mother herself is a Cancer too.)

Two of them have met in person, not knowing of course what each meant to me. Two of the others know about each other and what they mean to me. And then there's one that knows each story.

Confusing, yes. That is just one half-hour inside my mind on a Tuesday night that has just turned into Wednesday morning.

RANT OVER!