Tuesday, January 24, 2012
"I Just Wanna Be Okay Today."
Blog title refers to Ingrid Michaelson's title song off her album, "Be OK," which I didn't realize until now was sung by the amazing Ingrid. This song is currently my anthem for it's honestly and very necessary upbeat rhythm.
I didn't know how to write this blog post but knew I had to for a couple reasons. First, the flow of my posts (if you can even consider that one exists) would feel off if I talked about my boyfriend in my last entry and never mention him again. More importantly though I know if I don't write this I'll go a bit crazy.
Listening--or reading, in this case--about a breakup story is interesting for a couple minutes at most, even with celebrity duos. One of my least favorite things, and one of my greatest worries, is I'm being a burden or annoying someone. Bitching about my love life would seem to fall into that obnoxious category. I'm operating under the assumption though that perhaps three people will read this if anyone. I don't write for others; I write for me...and I do it on a blog because I have a bit of a narcissistic streak in my personality.
Anyways, enough side-tracking: my boyfriend broke up with me. Boom, I said it. Whew. Today is the first day since Friday I haven't cried which is a plus, though I cannot promise myself I won't while writing this entry. I didn't see it coming so it of course was a startling surprise. In the moment I don't remember much of what he said as I entered tunnel vision. I left that night in tears, hyperventilating, stumbling through the icy roads back to my sorority house.
My sisters tried to console me but with little success. I hate hugs and most displays of affection unless in the context of a relationship. I have been known to give too frequent and/or awkward hugs, mainly because I want to force myself to be affectionate. When people see or hear you're upset though they're instant reaction is to console. When I'm upset, I don't want to be touched and want to be alone.
No one is going to leave a hysterical, emotionally unbalanced girl by herself though in this state. Everyone over these past couple days has wanted to know what happened since no one else could see it coming either. It wasn't any simple explanation of he cheated, fell out of love, liked someone else, or any other numerous variations. Complicated it was and I did not really know what happened myself.
When I say it was complicated, I mean it was insanely so and not at all simultaneously: he didn't see us as a long term relationship and didn't want to string me along. Noble, mature, and considerate are words that come to my mind. Even if he can be an asshole at times, he always has cared for me deeply which makes this almost harder.
I want to say I fucking hate that fucking bastard piece of shit fuckity fuck fuck...but I can't. It isn't true. He's still one of my best friends and I don't know if that will ever change. This doesn't mean, though, that I'm not mad or hurt. I am. I want to place blame of someone or something concrete and there isn't anything to place.
I want to be excited or at least see the positives in being single again but I don't. I've never enjoyed being single. I have that same icky, lost feeling right now I've had before. Starting all over is something I've had to do many times over in aspects of life yet never get used to the process.
I want to jump a month into the future this instant and be sitting in a coffee shop with him, talking as friends. I want to get in a time machine and cherish every last moment I didn't realize was a last. I want to say, "Fuck all this," and go on some slutty rampage downtown. I want to run to his apartment and beg him to reconsider, be together again, pretend like this weekend was some horrible nightmare.
Unfortunately, none of those things will happen. A) I don't know how to travel through time. B) ...Again, time travel isn't readily available yet. C) I would get all dressed up, drink a couple beers, then run away at the possibility of a one-night-stand. D) That's pathetic and would be the stupidest thing I could ever do (and that's saying something considering it's, well, me).
Mostly though I want the second part of that last one: for this past weekend to have been an odd dream I'll wake up from soon. These past four mornings I've woken up and rolled to my side to find no one there; I've had to remind myself each day I'm not with him anymore. Selective denial, perhaps, or simply the fact the whole situation hadn't sunken into my brain.
I did all the things you're supposedly supposed to do: eat rich chocolate ice cream, bash about other exes, cry for hours on end, go shopping, walk around in sweats sans makeup, and so on. They all make me feel better for a total of five minutes before I think, "How the hell is this supposed to help me?" It wasn't in the end.
Keeping myself busy is what I'm currently attempting and it's been working so far. At the end of the day though I'm drained physically and emotionally, searching for a reprieve. I want to vent incessantly about anything and everything that comes into my mind...but I can't do that with him anymore. He could tolerate me like no one else I've ever known and I miss that already after four days.
What I want and need are very different. I want him to knock on the door of the house with flowers in hand, telling me this was all a mistake and pleading to have me back...but I'm almost 100% certain that won't happen. Sadly those romance movies aren't entirely factual it turns out.
What I need is...is...that's the question then, I guess. Writing like this helps a bit and not letting myself slip back into denial is probably good as well. I know I'll be okay even if I wish things were different right now. I wonder if he'll read this post since he used to read all of them and I wonder if that matters to me.
It does and doesn't in a way; it does in a silly fantasy-reunion sort of way and doesn't in this isn't for him. I'm not mad at him, even if I want to be, and will always care about Eldon. These past four months were wonderful even if they ended so quickly. He gave me a kind of happiness for which I had been searching and for that, I'm grateful.
I wrote this to generate some kind of internal peace, at least, that was my attempt. Did I? Or did I babble random pity thoughts for the past forty five minutes? Either way I feel a bit better and that's enough for me tonight. I'll go eat some dinner, Skype with my friend, do some homework, then off to bed. And so the routine goes until I can make sense of it all and I will, in time.
I love him still, I miss him now, and will remember and care about him always.