30 December 2010

the crossing of the fingers

So much has changed since I last wrote. In regard to the whole heartbreak thing - well, I've taken care of it the same way that I have always done. By finding someone else.

I feel as if I should actually be feeling some kind of guilt for moving on so quickly. I was with him for over a year, by far a record for myself, and our lives continue to be intricately intertwined. And I loved him. Still love him in a different way, but I nonetheless continue to love him. So why am I not feeling so incredibly guilty for falling all over someone else less than a month after we called it quits?

Maybe it's because we fell apart so slowly that I've had time to kinda just let go. Maybe it's because I already had my official rebound with someone I already regret, so that's out of the way. Maybe it's because I know that he was doing something similar to me the entire time that I'm allowing myself to abandon the idea of us/him very quickly.

Or maybe it's because this guy is a really, really good guy. Granted, I don't know him very well yet, not at all, but I trust Rachel's judgment and I can usually read people pretty well. Most of the other guys I've dated, well, I've only been halfway into the relationship the entire time because I could just feel that it wasn't right. This isn't like that. Not at all. I mean, I do have my reservations - mainly what the hell are we thinking getting into this, whatever it is, so close to graduation? And long-distance?

But I've never been one to write something off just because the timing was off. I'm too much of a romantic for that. And honestly, after what I've been through this past semester, I think I can handle a shit ton of heartbreak. Life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea, right?

But no, seriously, I haven't been excited about someone like this in so long. It feels remarkably good. I kinda feel like he's pretty much what I've always wanted in a guy (to start out with, you know - it's not like people come pre-packaged with all the right bells and whistles or something). Tall, dark, handsome, smart, funny, motivated. I have a lot to learn about him, and he about me, and who knows - maybe something will come up that completely disgusts one of us and is a game-ender. But obviously I really hope that doesn't happen.

Sometimes I feel like everyone else that I went to school with - the one who got pregnant, or married, or whatever - are actually braver than I have ever been. They followed their hearts, and even though I'll judge them for "fucking up their lives," part of me still wonders what would have happened if I had chosen something similar. In the end, life would be a lot harder - based on money and children and whatnot - and maybe even divorce - but it seems like they did exactly what they wanted to do. And yes, college was exactly what I wanted to do (and it is definitely not a mistake), but it involves sacrifices. I really don't think that you can have everything at this age. Maybe not ever. But hey, it's worth trying, right?

I have no idea what to expect this coming semester. So much is up in the air - what universities I will be accepted and denied to, what the Peace Corps thinks, what happens with me and new guy, how the dynamics between me and Matt work out, what internship/volunteer position I settle on - and somehow I'm okay with this. My time here in Corpus is spent in suspension. I have time to reflect on everything that has happened, prepare for what might happen, and keep my fingers crossed for everything I have always wanted.

18 December 2010

the golden commandment

Therapy. I thought I needed therapy, or counseling, or whatever nice word they have for it these days, after what I've been through this past semester and year. Too much cancer and one big break up, plus realizing that life after undergrad is very real and very scary - it just made for a really tumultuous time.

But forget formal therapy. I've forgotten the very basic therapy that I used to give myself before I had someone there with me practically every minute of my life - writing. So here I am, back to where I was in the beginning, perhaps none the wiser or perhaps for the better.

Here I go.

I don't really feel anything during the day, especially during conversations about him. People will ask me how I'm doing now that it's over - hell, my mom even told me 'do not despair!' - and I feel like they live in another world where the breakup really, really hurts. I kinda shrug everything off and laugh about the awkwardness of it all or make a joke about how big my apartment is without him. But the truth is that my apartment is really, really big without him and really, really empty.

It hits me at night, right when I decide that it's time to finally get some sleep. I close my laptop, or turn the TV off, and turn off the lights. Lay down. Close my eyes. And bam! Suddenly I realize that there is no one beside me and my apartment is so very quiet. There is only the sound of my breathing.

Then I do what I call the 'Memento' move. In the movie, he's all sad about his dead (?) wife - it's been a long time since I've seen it - and there's this very touching memory of his where he stretches his arm across the bed feeling for her warmth, which of course isn't there. So I reach across the bed - as I still sleep on only my side out of habit - and there is nothing but blanket and pillow. Cold blanket and pillow. And I can't help myself and immediately tear up.

There is nothing really to do except wait for the feeling to pass. They say that you need at least half the time of the relationship to get over it, so I've got a little over half a year to recover. Even that isn't comforting, though.

We had both started to give up toward the end. I don't know if he did, but I began to hold onto things that I knew would remind me of him after it was over. I joked about his pants with the gap in the ass, trying to remember how awful they looked because I knew I wouldn't see them again afterward. I looked through old pictures to see how his hair looked before and after we shaved it, realizing how much it had grown since August and how long it had to go before it was the length of when we were in love. Maybe that will be in six months' time. But I guess I may never know.

I don't know anything anymore. Just that when we both sat down and said it should be done, all I could think was, "We were really good together, weren't we?" And yes, we were. We were amazing. He was my best friend. You just never stop loving your best friend.

I'm so scared of life now. Before, even though I knew that we were going to have to separate after college, I felt like he would always be there somehow - in grad school, in the Peace Corps, wherever. But now the painful reality has hit. He won't be there. No one will be there. Not even my friends will follow me to wherever I end up, and even though yes, I will make new ones, letting go of those you love - those you wish you could forever cling to - cuts so deeply.

I shouldn't mourn the things I haven't lost yet. I know.

I know what I have to do - think about this as a fresh start. My life is stretched far before me. I have health, financial support, friends, family. Even a cat (I had to mention her - I think I woke her up with my typing and she's probably not terribly happy). And I have amazing goals of traveling the world, making it better, living free. Even though these next few months are going to be very difficult - especially in my one-bedroom - they'll just be fleeting memories in the years to come.

Hey, remember those six months that I lived with my cat, took classes, and twiddled my thumbs waiting for grad decisions?

-Yeah, I don't remember those too well anymore.

I just really have to make sure that I don't slip into something destructive to ease my boredom and anxiety - drinking, perhaps, or smoking anything, blablabla. There are really two ways I can take this, and I have to choose the constructive one. I'll work out more, or decide to cook myself an awesome dinner each week, or write more on here, or start volunteering somewhere worthwhile. Maybe listen to music like I used to or jump back into watching good cinema. Start meditating and do yoga again. Overall: treat myself like I should be treated.

Hey, I really like that motto. New years resolution? Treat thyself like thou ought to be treated.

Life really is beautiful, and even though I might have to work a little harder in the coming months to see that, I'll enjoy it nonetheless.