However, as I got to thinking, I realized that being an entertainment journalist, though it would probably be fun, is neither a practical career nor a career I want if I really think about it. It's definitely something I'm still interested in, as well as something I will continue to write about, but it's not all that I have to offer as a writer. So, I've decided to make this blog a little more well-rounded starting today. Again, I'm still not sure what that entails other than writing about whatever I feel like, subject be damned. So here goes:
A week ago today, I got dumped. Typing it is no easier than saying it out loud, and I can already feel the tears welling in my eyes. Now I don't want to go into too much detail because I'm a fairly private person who has issues discussing her feelings (which is apparently one of the many reasons for said dumping), but I can't continue to blog about TV shows and vampires all the while pretending that nothing else is going on. And maybe this will help. I've reached a point of desperation to find something that will help.
love doesn't always come with a happy ending.I am falling apart, despite not having had much experience in the love department. Sure I've fallen before, and certainly I've been hurt before, but nothing even comes close to this. And I know I am not the first girl with a broken heart and what I am currently experiencing is not the worst thing that could happen to a person, but it's happening to me and I need to try and make some sense of it.
My ex and I started talking online after being "introduced" by a friend over two a half years ago. I just gotten out of an unhappy relationship and was at a point in my life where I was trying to figure out exactly what the hell it was I wanted out of life. After a few weeks of innocent AIM conversation (he convinced me to read THREE Harry Potter books, no easy feat let me tell you), he called me. Our chemistry was instant and undeniable, despite my every attempt to do just that. Why would I deny the obvious connection we had? Because he lived two hours away. After a summer of late night phone calls that lasted until the early morning hours and several visits to each other, my belief was cemented: there was something going on between us. By the summer's end, I couldn't deny it anymore. There was something about this boy I could not resist. The way he made me laugh, the comfortability with which I could talk to him; we began dating in September of 2006.
Of course, the distance between us was always problematic. We were both working and in school, so seeing each other required careful, advanced planning. We spoke almost every night on the phone, with him occasionally having to reassure my fears that the distance between us was too much to handle. It was something I struggled with a lot during our first year together: we couldn't make spontaneous plans, or attend each other's family functions the way a regular couple did. But when we did spend time together, it was amazing. Sure, we fought, we had problems, but we were in love. I was in love. He became my other half despite the 100 miles between us. I depended on him for everything, I gave him my heart. I was always aware that I wasn't an easy person to love: I'm guarded, stubborn as hell, and at times a downright pain in the ass. He took down so many of the walls I had worked so hard to put up to protect myself from pain and, in turn, I gave him my heart. We were Lily and Marshall, finishing each other's sentences, making inappropriate jokes and high-fiving each other. I made the waffles, he made me laugh, always. I got him to watch every awesome TV show I loved (The Office, Lost, Buffy, Angel...I'm always right when it comes to good TV); he got me to read Harry Potter and appreciate the funny that is Family Guy. We managed to fit, despite him being more than a foot taller than me. He was what had been missing from my life: true love.
After our two year anniversary in September, I entered my last semester of college. It was a stressful and trying time for me, and we didn't get to see each other as much as we were used to. After a tumultous relationship with college, I wanted nothing more than for it to be over so that I could do something with my life and my relationship. That's the funny thing; being with him made me want to be better, both for myself and for our future which I foolishly saw so clearly. It was sometimes hard to imagine that a time would come where that would actually be possible, but I remained hopeful, as I was finally coming to end of my school journey so that we might be able to start a new journey together. And then I got dumped.
ouchy, love hurts.Despite five phone calls and somewhere close to 8 hours of talking and crying and begging him not to give up when things finally have the potential to get better (I'm done with school, no longer bound to living here; he's starting a new job search, no longer bound to his job), he still gave up. I can't blame him for his honesty or his feelings, because I would never want anyone to be in a relationship where they were unhappy. I've done it in the past, and it's not pleasant. At the same time, I can't help but feel like this came out of nowhere; it's like I'm suffering from break-up whiplash.
Not to mention the damned saddness. I thought I was sad before, not being able to see him whenever I wanted or kiss him whenever I wanted. This kills in comparison. It's funny because before, I sometimes couldn't feel my heart beat. I'd be sitting around randomly, and put my heart to my chest trying to find a rhythm. It was there, obviously, because I'm not a vampire (at least I don't think I am...hmm...), but I guess I just couldn't properly locate it. Now, I'm aware of my heart every waking moment because it physically hurts. Even if for a second I let every ounce of the last two years slip away in an attempt to lose myself in something else, I still feel it. This emptiness that everyone keeps telling me will get better with each passing day (it hasn't), this constant replaying of every single moment of our relationship, wondering what I could have done to make things different. I thought this was it. I thought he was The One. And everyone keeps telling me that everything happens for a reason, and that there's someone out there who will appreciate my waffles and cupcakes and stupid jokes and my love, but it's not helping.
take it, please don't break it.I know it's only been a week, and I've been told more times than I can count that time heals all wounds. But I can't help but feel like this is not going to get better. I got more than five hours of sleep last night for the first time since it happened, and I woke up this morning thinking that today would be THE day: a new day. New year, fresh start, as a wise woman has been telling me. And then I never got out of bed. I can't eat (self-admittedly bordering on unhealthy rapid weight loss), I don't want to get drunk, I can barely get myself out of the house. And every time I think I'm OK, that I'm starting to surface, I slip back under. And it really sucks.
The bottom line is I don't know how to function without him. Eventually I'll learn how to: what choice to I have? Staying in this depression, wallowing in the what if, it won't change his mind. But it's frustrating not being able to fully understand what went wrong and how I could have been so blind as to not notice and how he wouldn't be willing to even try to fix it after everything we'd been through, especially when I was ready to whatever it takes. Too little, too late I suppose. I'm so mad, more at myself than at him for some infuriating reason. We'll never know what we could have had and that's the most heartbreaking part of it all. But as I look back on it all, the parts of us that still make me laugh before they make me cry, the parts that we struggled with that I'll never know if we could have repaired, I have to convince myself that everything happens for a reason. I can't hate him, much as I've tried. I do think that somewhere down the road, he's going to realize he's made a mistake, but much as I would love for that to happen right now, I cannot sit around and wait. I have to somehow figure out how to pull myself out of this and come out OK on the other end. I have to learn to believe that I am worthy of love and that someone will someday show me the same love I give. Someday I will understand why this is happening. There is a lesson here somewhere, and I will uncover it in time.
Yeah, I'm still not sure I believe any of that, but I am sure trying. If it doesn't kill me, it'll make me stronger.
1 comment:
Powerful.
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