Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Octopus earrings and the blue scarf of illness

"Car is parked, bags are packed, but what kind of heart doesn't look back?"

June 26, 2015: It has been 15 days and it seems as if we never were. Not that it shouldn't be like that... I mean, I don't know if what is should be like, but it feels more bizarre and sad and empty than I can quite process. Was it meaningless? Who instills it with meaning? What do I mean by meaning? Does learning lessons from a thing make it meaningful? Do I really know what I learned? Did he love me? Does it matter?

But... I remember there was all that kissing and dinners and hand holding and alarm clocks and long looks and walking in the snow. There were nuzzles and laughing and time with his son and smiling and make outs and something like happiness?  And then there wasn't.

Now there is just these silver octopus earrings and the pretty blue scarf he bought me at whole foods... for my birthday... a month late... (at whole foods).  One of the earrings broke, but I wear the scarf a lot. Not sure if that is a sign of resilience or just super sad. Best not to think about it too much.  It's pretty and, for real guys, it is in no way a sign that I am actually trying to make myself sad.

Update: It's been almost a month and I feel pretty much the same as above except that it doesn't sting as much and I have stopped wearing the scarf.  There have also been dates. Well, 3 dates.  One was pretty awful (seriously too terrible to write about), one was a nice coffee date with interesting conversation but no real attraction and one really kinda great ginger bourbon beer fueled sailing adventure that seemed promising... but then fizzled out as quickly as it had begun. Le sigh.

So here I am. A few lbs lighter (thanks anxiety diet) and half feeling excited for a new start and half filled with abject terror and ever fighting the very insistent urge to run to my ex and beg him to try again so I never have to go on another date.  But I refrain from giving into that predictable instinct. I have more dates planned and a few nice, interesting people sending me funny notes on dating web sites. So, I mean, life is moving on and I am doing my very best to move with it and not give up on the idea that I might find my person and, you know, maybe something nice will happen : ).  

Shut up, it totally might.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Here it goes, here it goes, here it goes again

"I guess there's got to be a break in the monotony, but Jesus, when it rains how it pours/ Throw on your clothes, the second side of Surfer Rosa, and you leave me, yeah, you leave me."
Well, I mean... technically I guess I left him. Or at least it was mutual. Who knows. Maybe he left me first in a million small ways that I was too frightened to acknowledge or accept. I suppose it's a weird thing we do, keeping score like it matters even a little bit who outdrew ya. Nobody wins, everyone is sad, so who cares? This thing that was "us" is now over and it doesn't feel like the wrong thing, but it feels bad, empty, lonely... I mean, of course it does, that's what breaking up feels like (what am I new?). It's a failure all around. But, yah, for the record... I suggested we needed space, he took it, there was space... then I told him we needed to talk and then he beat me to the punch with the words.

He sat down on my couch and looked up at me and said "I think we need to break up" (cue record screeching to a stop). I... was not expecting that. I mean, I totally was... but not like that. We had been through rough patches and he always insisted we were fine even when I was super positive it was over. This time was different for him, just not really for me. I knew that at the end of this night whatever we had become would be done, but I had expected to have to explain why and I guess for it to be harder. I was anticipating him not understanding. But here it was - final and decisive - which is totally better... right? Right...

I said something like "well, sure, I think we both know that's what we are doing here. But I guess I thought we might ease into it a little. I mean... are you double parked outside or something?" ba-dum-bum-CHING. Nobody laughed in the moment, but now it feels like the only funny thing. He stayed for a while, mostly at my insistence. I caught up on his life. I gave him my armchair psychoanalysis of his situation (which he tolerated politely). He asked me if I passed Pharm. We shared some nice memories of us and then he left. I wondered why exactly I had shaved my legs for this. I didn't cry. I stared out the window. He seemed sad and lost. I still feel the desire to help him but I couldn't reach him as his girlfriend so it seems unlikely I could help him now. That's normal to want to help people, right? Or am I just holding on? Being useful?

Now it just feels like a dull ache in my chest that I can't make go away. He's on my mind, but I know I need to let it go. Let him go. He is not my person and I am not his person and it was a year of our lives that is over now. I wish he had not forgotten my birthday and I wish I had helped him quit smoking. I wish a lot of things were different, but that is not how this works. I just don't know how this works. How do I get better?