Most of the disappointments in my life thus far have been of a different nature. Scrapes. They hurt, and they might be annoying for a few days, but for the most part you can get up, brush yourself off, and be okay. Jobs--I never had them, so technically I didn't lose anything. Grades--once the semester ends they're water under the bridge.
This is not a scrape. I don't know exactly what this is. A puncture wound, maybe? I can keep telling myself 'it's okay, you're fine, it's done' but I know there is something serious under the surface that can't be left untreated forever.
_ _ _
Yesterday was really hard in ways I didn't expect. I was okay during the afternoon, but things started to unravel later in the day. I decided to spend the evening in LA with my family while my sisters went to the Flight of the Conchords concert at the Hollywood Bowl. It was either that, or go bowling with my roommate and her fiance.
Getting dressed was frustrating. I was not in the mood to make unimportant decisions (such as what to wear), and while standing in front of my closet realized that I am no longer dressing to look cute for anyone. I chose black.
My sister's apartment in LA was hot. While she finished getting ready, I looked at magazines in her kitchen. I read an article about a guy who moved to New York City. The highlight of the article was the end. It said, "you do not want to be with a girl from New York. She is not sensitive enough to have a relationship with." Good news.
Going to the Hollywood bowl made me strangely emotional. The whole family had to go in because my mom paid for the tickets and needed to be there with a photo ID to claim them at will-call. Couples everywhere. Intertwined hands, loving gazes, kisses. Too much for me.
I left the venue to get some air. I don't like crying, and I especially don't like crying in public. And it was just an odd situation. I girl sitting on a curb outside a Flight of the Conchords concert, crying. Most people probably thought I was some spoiled brat who didn't get the seats she wanted. Sorry to disappoint.
The rest of the night was a little better, though I threw a bit of a text messaging fit after the Bowl snafu. Sorry A.
_ _ _
We got home at 1 am (thanks to LA traffic). I wasn't tired, so I did some research on breaking up, grieving, recovering. Of course, most of it was bullshit, but I did find some interesting stuff. Like that these kind of breakups are harder because there is nowhere to channel the anger. It's true. As mad as I am (or frustrated?), I can't be mad at him. [My reasoning: He's sad too. He left first because he graduated first. Next year, when I'm done, I have every intention of getting a job elsewhere too.]
I also read stuff about cutting off communication and hiding reminders of them. I don't know if that applies here. We talked on the phone yesterday. And I don't know if I could handle going cold turkey right now. I think over time, as we get busier with life, a balance will be found. Plus, he has damn good taste in music. There are too many good songs I'd have to avoid.
Am I in denial, or is this different than a normal breakup? (ie. do we have a shot at staying friends. I hope so) This isn't one person telling the other that they don't want to be with the other anymore. This is life getting in its own way. It's tripping over your own shoelaces. It's choking on your own spit.
_ _ _
I'm going to Hawaii tomorrow morning. Can't believe it. Haven't packed yet. Part of me fears that it's too soon and that I haven't had enough time to grieve, but only time will tell.
No comments:
Post a Comment