I got to thinking today about forgiveness. I guess it was related to HIM. I have been feeling okay over the past couple days, and it occurred to me today that I may have actually forgiven him for not choosing me. I am not over him. Of course not. But I don't feel any of the animosity toward him that I did during our last week together. It is like I couldn't forgive him until it was really over. Now that I am home, the anger has melted away.
The moment that really made me realize that the anger was gone was during lunch today. My grandmother came down to visit and while we were sitting and eating this conversation happened:
Grandmother: So, how is your beau?
Me: He isn't my beau.
G: Well, okay, how is your friend? Are you going to keep in touch with him?
Me: Yes, of course I'm going to keep in touch with him.
G: Because you didn't keep in touch with M. I liked M.
Me: I know, but that was different.
G: I am just being nosey. That is a grandmother's job.
Dad: Good, keep being nosey, because she doesn't tell us anything.
Me: What? What do you want to know? (directed toward G:) And ____ is doing fine. He walked at graduation and is finishing moving out.
Dad: Yes, he was actually a very nice young man. And his family was nice too. (To me:) And we would have approved you know.
G: Oh, well, that must mean he is "the one." Your Dad approves.
Me: (sarcastic) Oh, okay, well in that case I will call him up and tell him to call off his plans in South Dakota to come be with me.
Normally, that conversation would have driven me insane. Just another reminder that I wanted to be with him and he didn't want to be with me. I got my Dad's approval, and it couldn't have meant less. I had his parents' approval, and it didn't matter. Everything could have worked out, and he still didn't want to be with me. But strangely, I didn't find myself feeling angry, or on the verge of tears, or anything. I felt calm. I felt at peace. I felt like I was finally done being mad at him. My anger was really only hurting me. I don't know why it went away. I think after days--hell, even weeks and months--of being angry with him about all of this, I have finally forgiven him.
Tonight, I watched Into the Wild for the second time. One line in it really resonated with me this time around: "To forgive is to love." I know it is just a movie, but it is true, isn't it? I can't stay mad at someone I love. It seemed like the perfect line to explain the day I'd been having.
Case in point: D called me tonight. Although I no longer have romantic feelings for him, I will always love him, and even after that whole mess last summer I couldn't stay mad at him. When he finally got back in contact with me, I spent about two minutes being mad, and then forgave him. The forgiveness was absolute. I still don't harbor any resentment about that whole situation. There is no point in carrying around anger, and I couldn't even if I tried.
It actually felt really good to talk to him. I think he called at the perfect time. I needed to open myself up to someone, and I have never really had that type of relationship with my parents. He was unhappy to hear about my job interview in Montana ("Damn--I hoped you would stay near here"). It was nice to feel wanted. Not that I think he meant it like that. It is just nice that someone wants to be around me. I also realized tonight for the first time that D and I have always gotten along so well because we are essentially the same person. He is pretty damn close to a male version of me. We think the same way and we are able to speak very openly with each other about anything. I don't think there is anything I would be afraid to tell him. We also butt heads a lot, but he is a good intellectual sparring partner. Maybe we think so much alike because we have known each other for over ten years now. We talked to each other almost constantly through our formative teenage years. Our minds grew together. Or maybe it is just a coincidence. In any case, it is nice to feel understood and heard. So, I will probably get together with D sometime soon.
Tomorrow night, my parents are taking me out to a nice dinner to celebrate my graduation. Part of me wants to call HIM--just to hear his voice--but I know better than to fall into that trap. It will just make me backslide emotionally. He called me yesterday afternoon and we talked for a few minutes. It didn't shake me up too badly. I think the physical distance is helping a lot. I would rather not know what he is doing, or anything. So far my dreams have also stayed in check. I am terrified of dreaming about him, or of waking up in the middle of the night expecting to find him next to me only to realize that he is not in bed with me and never will be again. I have been lucky. I have been sleeping soundly. The real test will come on Tuesday, when my parents will be back at work and I will have to spend the whole day alone with nothing but my thoughts. I will just have to keep busy.
Overall, I am doing okay. Better than I thought I would. That doesn't mean I might not fall into an emotional downswing at some point, but for now I am doing well. I haven't cried since I left to come home. I haven't even felt the need to. Maybe I just needed to forgive him to find some emotional stability. It hurts like hell to be angry at someone you love. I guess in some ways the anger was a security blanket. I think I felt like if I didn't feel angry I would just feel devastated and deeply sad. Instead, I just feel relieved to not be carrying all of that nastiness around. I can finally rest and relax rather than constantly struggling, fighting, and meeting with frustration. The love I have for him hasn't changed or diminished--I can just finally see it clearly and enjoy the good feelings that come with being in love, rather than dwelling on the bad.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
It's All Over
Well, I am home, sitting in the bedroom where I spent the majority of my angsty teenage years. I am feeling fine right now, but the last few days have been incredibly hard. At the moment, I am kind of glad that the bandaid has finally just been ripped off. The slow goodbye was really the worst thing. Of course, I still want to talk to him and see him--but for now I will just work on focusing where I am.
The last time we were really alone together was Wednesday night. My Dad had gone to sleep and I went over to his apartment to spend time with him. We laid on his bed and I tried not to cry. I knew that it was my last chance to tell him anything that I wanted to tell him face to face. The only thing I wanted to say was the sentence that had been behind everything I'd actually said for the last 8 months. The sentence that I'd only let out once. I said, "I love you. I really do. You know that right?" He nodded and said, "I love you too and I'm sorry."
So there it is. I may never understand what is driving this whole separation. His parents came before my Dad and I left. I still get along great with them, my Dad liked them, my Dad liked him, he liked my Dad. It just seems so perfect. But the time has come to just let him go. I cried yesterday--in front of my Dad, which was what I was trying to avoid, but for the most part I held it together.
Right before I lost my internet a few days ago, I got an email from the Missoula company. They are flying me in for an in-person interview. I guess I didn't do as badly in the phone interview as I thought I did. I am flying there September 10, and flying back here on September 12. I guess it is a little too early to be really nervous about it, but I am. I can't help but feel nervous. I also can't help but think about the fact that Montana is near South Dakota, where he will be. Of course, he will be about a 9 hour drive from me--but still relatively close. In any case, it is just an interview, so I should worry about actually getting the job before I start planning trips to visit him.
I shouldn't be thinking about him anyways. I know that it is much easier said than done, but the best thing I can do is distract myself and put him out of my head. He chose to let me go. He didn't want to be with me. Those things should be enough to make me not dwell on him. But unfortunately, as much as I cannot understand why he wanted what he wanted, I believed him when he said he loved me. Maybe it's because I wanted to believe him. But it was also apparent in the way he looked at me, touched me, talked to me... I guess it is a moot point. I have no choice but to move forward now.
I will probably call D, and the few other people from high school who I am still in touch with. Not today, but soon. I need to keep busy while I am here. My Mom was asleep when we got home last night, so once she gets home from work today I will have to go through the whole gamut of questions with her. Tomorrow I get my hair cut. That always makes me happy. I haven't had it cut in months and it is looking very ratty. My grandmother is also driving down to visit. So tomorrow will be a busy day.
Night time is the worst. I will just bury myself in TV and novels. I am actually reading a pretty good book right now. I had started it weeks ago, but put it down for awhile during all the packing and saying goodbye. It is called Second Glance--it is about a paranormal investigator who lost his wife in a car accident, a Native American land rights case, and more generally, just about death, ghosts, suicide, and suffering. It is not as depressing as it sounds. It is slightly predictable at times, but it was an effective distraction last night and on the plane. It is a pretty quick read though, so I will have to line another up for when I am finished.
So, I guess long story short--I am surviving. Of course, I knew that I would survive. The big test will be how well I can keep it together in the next few weeks. He told me to call him when I got home last night, but then did not answer the phone. I left a message, but decided that I will not be calling him again for awhile. Distance is best.
My Dad stayed home from work today, so I am delaying leaving my bedroom. I feel like being alone at the moment, and he will just start reminding me of all the little things I have to do (student load related, and other phone calls I have to make). But if there is anything I've learned from this past week, it is that you can't hold off the inevitable. I will have to leave my room. I will have to deal with my loans. I will have to handle a long line of questioning from my Mom. I will have to keep living my life like I normally would, and I will have to do it without crumbling. I feel kind of hollow at the moment. I feel empty. But I have to keep it together.
The last time we were really alone together was Wednesday night. My Dad had gone to sleep and I went over to his apartment to spend time with him. We laid on his bed and I tried not to cry. I knew that it was my last chance to tell him anything that I wanted to tell him face to face. The only thing I wanted to say was the sentence that had been behind everything I'd actually said for the last 8 months. The sentence that I'd only let out once. I said, "I love you. I really do. You know that right?" He nodded and said, "I love you too and I'm sorry."
So there it is. I may never understand what is driving this whole separation. His parents came before my Dad and I left. I still get along great with them, my Dad liked them, my Dad liked him, he liked my Dad. It just seems so perfect. But the time has come to just let him go. I cried yesterday--in front of my Dad, which was what I was trying to avoid, but for the most part I held it together.
Right before I lost my internet a few days ago, I got an email from the Missoula company. They are flying me in for an in-person interview. I guess I didn't do as badly in the phone interview as I thought I did. I am flying there September 10, and flying back here on September 12. I guess it is a little too early to be really nervous about it, but I am. I can't help but feel nervous. I also can't help but think about the fact that Montana is near South Dakota, where he will be. Of course, he will be about a 9 hour drive from me--but still relatively close. In any case, it is just an interview, so I should worry about actually getting the job before I start planning trips to visit him.
I shouldn't be thinking about him anyways. I know that it is much easier said than done, but the best thing I can do is distract myself and put him out of my head. He chose to let me go. He didn't want to be with me. Those things should be enough to make me not dwell on him. But unfortunately, as much as I cannot understand why he wanted what he wanted, I believed him when he said he loved me. Maybe it's because I wanted to believe him. But it was also apparent in the way he looked at me, touched me, talked to me... I guess it is a moot point. I have no choice but to move forward now.
I will probably call D, and the few other people from high school who I am still in touch with. Not today, but soon. I need to keep busy while I am here. My Mom was asleep when we got home last night, so once she gets home from work today I will have to go through the whole gamut of questions with her. Tomorrow I get my hair cut. That always makes me happy. I haven't had it cut in months and it is looking very ratty. My grandmother is also driving down to visit. So tomorrow will be a busy day.
Night time is the worst. I will just bury myself in TV and novels. I am actually reading a pretty good book right now. I had started it weeks ago, but put it down for awhile during all the packing and saying goodbye. It is called Second Glance--it is about a paranormal investigator who lost his wife in a car accident, a Native American land rights case, and more generally, just about death, ghosts, suicide, and suffering. It is not as depressing as it sounds. It is slightly predictable at times, but it was an effective distraction last night and on the plane. It is a pretty quick read though, so I will have to line another up for when I am finished.
So, I guess long story short--I am surviving. Of course, I knew that I would survive. The big test will be how well I can keep it together in the next few weeks. He told me to call him when I got home last night, but then did not answer the phone. I left a message, but decided that I will not be calling him again for awhile. Distance is best.
My Dad stayed home from work today, so I am delaying leaving my bedroom. I feel like being alone at the moment, and he will just start reminding me of all the little things I have to do (student load related, and other phone calls I have to make). But if there is anything I've learned from this past week, it is that you can't hold off the inevitable. I will have to leave my room. I will have to deal with my loans. I will have to handle a long line of questioning from my Mom. I will have to keep living my life like I normally would, and I will have to do it without crumbling. I feel kind of hollow at the moment. I feel empty. But I have to keep it together.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Final Day With Him
My Dad gets here tomorrow morning. I have been cleaning and packing all day. I am exhausted, but I need to keep going. It will be easier when my Dad gets here if I manage to get as much done as possible.
This morning I had my job interview. I think it went okay, but not great. My gut feeling is that I won't get the job. By the end of the week I will know if they want to fly me out for an in-person interview. So, it is really out of my hands now. I did my best. I am not going to think about it until I hear from them. If I get an in-person interview--great. If I don't, I will just have to keep looking. Either way, I am going to start applying for more jobs as soon as I get home.
Last night, I sobbed for about three hours strait, to the point where my eyes were swollen and my head was pounding. I couldn't help it. I just kept thinking things like, "Which kiss will be the last?... This is one of the last times that I will feel his body next to me in bed.... How long will it take before I can't quit call his face into my memory without looking at a picture.... This is one of the last times he will hold my hand...." Tonight is really the last night that we will probably EVER spend in the same bed. Tonight will be the last night that we really have together. It is really too much for me to handle. I think this will be the hardest part for me. I know that those aren't productive thoughts. I can't change the fact that the end is so close. I did everything that I could do. I tried. I want so badly to keep my emotions in check and to enjoy our last night, but the finality of it is just too much for me to take. How can I not cry when I am losing someone that I love so much?
He is managing to hold himself together much better than I am. When I calmed down a little last night, I asked him how. He basically said that he feels like he has to be strong for me and that it will be harder for him when I am actually gone. I wanted to respond, but if I said anything I knew I would start crying again. I wanted to say, "Please don't try to be strong for me. I would rather see your emotion," but I couldn't get the words out. I did manage to say a few things that I wanted to say though. I said, "I really do want what is best for you. I know that you are doing what you need to do. I have been snapping at you so much because I am having a hard time dealing with the fact that I am not what you need. I'm sorry I'm so emotional right now, but I will be fine." What finally calmed me down was the thought that I wouldn't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me anyways. He is giving me up. That is his decision, and his loss. I am strong enough to handle this, and I deserve someone who wouldn't want to let me go. That is really the only line of reasoning that can calm me down right now. It is the only one that makes me feel better. It stops the tears, and even dulls the pain. I don't really know why. I guess it is probably because it reminds me that he is NOT the perfect guy for me if he is not willing to fight for us. I deserve someone who loves me completely and would do anything to find a way to be with me. I love him, but my feelings don't make up for the fact that he is choosing to leave me behind.
I know that I am not out of the woods emotionally yet. I know that the rest of this week will be very hard for me. At this point, I honestly just can't wait to be home with my parents. Once him and I say goodbye, the further away I can get from him, the better. I don't know if I should ask him not to call, email, or text me for awhile. I know that if he does it will be hard for me, but I also want to be able to keep in touch with him once the initial pain dies down. I guess I will just play it by ear.
D sent me a Facebook message today. He lost my phone number and wants to call and catch up. I messaged him back with my number and telling him that I would be home late Thursday evening, and would be in town for at least a couple weeks. I am sure I will see him while I am home. He recently had his heart broken too. As I've said before, my romantic feelings for him are gone, but he still knows me very well and it will be nice to have someone to talk to.
Well, this might be the last time I post on here until late Thursday evening or Friday. I might have time to write tomorrow morning if my internet doesn't shut off today like it is supposed to, but if it does shut off today I guess I will be on my own from here on out. I will have to get through this week alone. I definitely can't talk to my Dad about this stuff. It will definitely be a relief to be able to get on here again once I make it home.
He will be home from work soon. I guess I should go clean some more and prepare myself to try to say goodbye without having a meltdown.
This morning I had my job interview. I think it went okay, but not great. My gut feeling is that I won't get the job. By the end of the week I will know if they want to fly me out for an in-person interview. So, it is really out of my hands now. I did my best. I am not going to think about it until I hear from them. If I get an in-person interview--great. If I don't, I will just have to keep looking. Either way, I am going to start applying for more jobs as soon as I get home.
Last night, I sobbed for about three hours strait, to the point where my eyes were swollen and my head was pounding. I couldn't help it. I just kept thinking things like, "Which kiss will be the last?... This is one of the last times that I will feel his body next to me in bed.... How long will it take before I can't quit call his face into my memory without looking at a picture.... This is one of the last times he will hold my hand...." Tonight is really the last night that we will probably EVER spend in the same bed. Tonight will be the last night that we really have together. It is really too much for me to handle. I think this will be the hardest part for me. I know that those aren't productive thoughts. I can't change the fact that the end is so close. I did everything that I could do. I tried. I want so badly to keep my emotions in check and to enjoy our last night, but the finality of it is just too much for me to take. How can I not cry when I am losing someone that I love so much?
He is managing to hold himself together much better than I am. When I calmed down a little last night, I asked him how. He basically said that he feels like he has to be strong for me and that it will be harder for him when I am actually gone. I wanted to respond, but if I said anything I knew I would start crying again. I wanted to say, "Please don't try to be strong for me. I would rather see your emotion," but I couldn't get the words out. I did manage to say a few things that I wanted to say though. I said, "I really do want what is best for you. I know that you are doing what you need to do. I have been snapping at you so much because I am having a hard time dealing with the fact that I am not what you need. I'm sorry I'm so emotional right now, but I will be fine." What finally calmed me down was the thought that I wouldn't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me anyways. He is giving me up. That is his decision, and his loss. I am strong enough to handle this, and I deserve someone who wouldn't want to let me go. That is really the only line of reasoning that can calm me down right now. It is the only one that makes me feel better. It stops the tears, and even dulls the pain. I don't really know why. I guess it is probably because it reminds me that he is NOT the perfect guy for me if he is not willing to fight for us. I deserve someone who loves me completely and would do anything to find a way to be with me. I love him, but my feelings don't make up for the fact that he is choosing to leave me behind.
I know that I am not out of the woods emotionally yet. I know that the rest of this week will be very hard for me. At this point, I honestly just can't wait to be home with my parents. Once him and I say goodbye, the further away I can get from him, the better. I don't know if I should ask him not to call, email, or text me for awhile. I know that if he does it will be hard for me, but I also want to be able to keep in touch with him once the initial pain dies down. I guess I will just play it by ear.
D sent me a Facebook message today. He lost my phone number and wants to call and catch up. I messaged him back with my number and telling him that I would be home late Thursday evening, and would be in town for at least a couple weeks. I am sure I will see him while I am home. He recently had his heart broken too. As I've said before, my romantic feelings for him are gone, but he still knows me very well and it will be nice to have someone to talk to.
Well, this might be the last time I post on here until late Thursday evening or Friday. I might have time to write tomorrow morning if my internet doesn't shut off today like it is supposed to, but if it does shut off today I guess I will be on my own from here on out. I will have to get through this week alone. I definitely can't talk to my Dad about this stuff. It will definitely be a relief to be able to get on here again once I make it home.
He will be home from work soon. I guess I should go clean some more and prepare myself to try to say goodbye without having a meltdown.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Anticipation
It is amazing how much better I feel during the day than at night. At night I feel so emotional, and then when the morning comes I feel a lot better. Why does that happen? I feel like that has always been the case for me. The old, "You'll feel better in the morning" almost always seems to hold true for me. Nothing particularly bad happened last night--just the normal feelings of sadness and dread--but I was still surprised to wake up this morning feeling perky and relatively happy. I can't really pinpoint the time in the day that my mood starts to slip. Maybe when it gets dark out. It is strange, but I have always been that way.
I did a lot of packing and cleaning yesterday, and I plan to do another round of it today. At 3:00, I agreed to meet with a friend of an acquaintance from college who is thinking about coming to the program I just finished. She seems really nice, and just wants some advice and information on the program. I think he is going to come with me, because his perspective will be helpful to her too. Aside from that, I just need to do more packing and cleaning, and get ready for my phone interview. I am still pretty nervous, and I keep getting conflicting advice on how to handle the interview. For instance, the job requires travel. HE said that I should ask if the company covers travel expenses, but my Mom said that I shouldn't ask that yet. He thinks I should ask about typical work hours, and my Mom doesn't. Since my Mom has more life experience than him, I will take her advice in most cases, but I don't see the harm in asking about hours, so I will do that. In general, I am just much better in person than on the phone. My phone also tends to drop a lot of calls, so that makes me nervous too. I guess I should stop worrying. I will just do everything I can today to prepare for it.
I think that I am a bit numb to the whole situation with him right now. I feel like my self-protection mode has kicked in. I have plenty to distract me, between packing, and cleaning, and the job interview, and I think I am getting better at pushing the whole thing to the back of my mind. The only thing that worries me is the fact that his parents are coming here on Wednesday to help him with packing, and my Dad will get here Tuesday morning. I am worried about the overlap. My parents don't know anything about my situation with him (besides the fact that we are "neighbors and friends"), and his parents know pretty much everything. I am afraid that they will accidentally spill the beans. HE asked if my Dad and I would want to have dinner with him and his parents (I guess on Wednesday night). It just seems like a bad idea.
I really can't believe that the end is almost here. The year flew by. I guess if I had it to do again, I would. It isn't ending the way I wanted it to, but I think it was worth it anyways. I really do love him more than I have ever loved anybody. I am afraid that I might never find that again. What if this is it for me? How many times to people get to fall in love? This is two for me. How many more do I get?
I guess I shouldn't think about that. What I really need is to be single for a good amount of time. I haven't been truly single since the period between T and M, and that was awhile ago now. I just need to focus on me. I really hope that I get this job in Montana. It would be a fresh start. I could get a nice little apartment or house, maybe a cat, and just settle in--far away from anywhere I've been before. I just feel like every place I've lived before is haunted. Do you know what I mean? Back home, with my parents, there are memories of D, A, my best friend from high school, E, and many other things that happened between the ages of 4 and 18. In the town where I went to college, there are memories of T, and M, and friends that I may never see again. Here, in this city, I can't go anywhere without finding something that reminds me of HIM. That is honestly the main reason that I can't imagine staying here. He is everywhere. The only logical option for me is to go somewhere new. I know that I could stay here or go to the other "haunted" places and be okay, but why should I do that if I don't have to? Why not make life a little easier for myself?
I guess I just have to hang in there a little longer. I know that I will feel worse right after I say goodbye to him for the last time, but I also know that feeling worse is a necessary step in feeling better. The worst of it will hit me between this Tuesday morning when my Dad gets here and the week or two that follows. After that, I will start to heal. I will be okay. I just need to get through the worst of it. The anticipation is still killing me. But I know I will be okay.
I did a lot of packing and cleaning yesterday, and I plan to do another round of it today. At 3:00, I agreed to meet with a friend of an acquaintance from college who is thinking about coming to the program I just finished. She seems really nice, and just wants some advice and information on the program. I think he is going to come with me, because his perspective will be helpful to her too. Aside from that, I just need to do more packing and cleaning, and get ready for my phone interview. I am still pretty nervous, and I keep getting conflicting advice on how to handle the interview. For instance, the job requires travel. HE said that I should ask if the company covers travel expenses, but my Mom said that I shouldn't ask that yet. He thinks I should ask about typical work hours, and my Mom doesn't. Since my Mom has more life experience than him, I will take her advice in most cases, but I don't see the harm in asking about hours, so I will do that. In general, I am just much better in person than on the phone. My phone also tends to drop a lot of calls, so that makes me nervous too. I guess I should stop worrying. I will just do everything I can today to prepare for it.
I think that I am a bit numb to the whole situation with him right now. I feel like my self-protection mode has kicked in. I have plenty to distract me, between packing, and cleaning, and the job interview, and I think I am getting better at pushing the whole thing to the back of my mind. The only thing that worries me is the fact that his parents are coming here on Wednesday to help him with packing, and my Dad will get here Tuesday morning. I am worried about the overlap. My parents don't know anything about my situation with him (besides the fact that we are "neighbors and friends"), and his parents know pretty much everything. I am afraid that they will accidentally spill the beans. HE asked if my Dad and I would want to have dinner with him and his parents (I guess on Wednesday night). It just seems like a bad idea.
I really can't believe that the end is almost here. The year flew by. I guess if I had it to do again, I would. It isn't ending the way I wanted it to, but I think it was worth it anyways. I really do love him more than I have ever loved anybody. I am afraid that I might never find that again. What if this is it for me? How many times to people get to fall in love? This is two for me. How many more do I get?
I guess I shouldn't think about that. What I really need is to be single for a good amount of time. I haven't been truly single since the period between T and M, and that was awhile ago now. I just need to focus on me. I really hope that I get this job in Montana. It would be a fresh start. I could get a nice little apartment or house, maybe a cat, and just settle in--far away from anywhere I've been before. I just feel like every place I've lived before is haunted. Do you know what I mean? Back home, with my parents, there are memories of D, A, my best friend from high school, E, and many other things that happened between the ages of 4 and 18. In the town where I went to college, there are memories of T, and M, and friends that I may never see again. Here, in this city, I can't go anywhere without finding something that reminds me of HIM. That is honestly the main reason that I can't imagine staying here. He is everywhere. The only logical option for me is to go somewhere new. I know that I could stay here or go to the other "haunted" places and be okay, but why should I do that if I don't have to? Why not make life a little easier for myself?
I guess I just have to hang in there a little longer. I know that I will feel worse right after I say goodbye to him for the last time, but I also know that feeling worse is a necessary step in feeling better. The worst of it will hit me between this Tuesday morning when my Dad gets here and the week or two that follows. After that, I will start to heal. I will be okay. I just need to get through the worst of it. The anticipation is still killing me. But I know I will be okay.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Distractions
I am in a state on constant exhaustion lately, which I really have to get over considering that I have to wake up early starting on Monday. Monday morning I have the interview, then after that I will be waking up early to pack with my Dad. I have to admit that I am starting to really want this job. I like the company (from what I can see on their website), and the location is starting to sound more and more appealing.
It is in Montana. Now, I know the initial reaction might be--"Really? Montana? You are excited about Montana?"... but I have legitimate reasons. Okay, well I may as well just come out with it all. The company is in Missoula, Montana. Although I have never been there, my brother actually worked there off and on for a year (his job required travel 90% of the time) and he absolutely loved the city. My brother called me yesterday to gush about Missoula. I was pretty surprised, since my brother is a big city kind of guy through and through. He hates the suburbs. He hates the country. He only likes living in the biggest cities he can find. Although Missoula is the second biggest city in Montana, it is tiny compared to the places my brother usually chooses. But for some reason, he just simply adores it. He said it is the only non-big city he would ever consider moving to. He said, "It has a small-town feel, but has plenty to do and see." Also, from what I have looked at online it is an absolutely gorgeous area with a lot of outdoorsy activities. So, it really does sound like the best of both worlds--city meets country. I don't think that my Mom is too thrilled by the possibility of me ending up there, since I grew up in the northeast, and that move would put me approximately 2,500 miles from home (seriously), although it is only about 1,500 miles from where I am now. She will support me if that is what I choose though. I kind of like the idea of going somewhere completely new. I don't want to get my hopes up, so I am trying to constantly remind myself that it is just a phone interview, but I am starting to really want this job.
This job stuff is really distracting me from the situation with him, which is great. When I do think about our pending separation, my dominant thought is, I just want to get this over with. I really can't take the anticipation (or maybe "dread" is more accurate) anymore. This is a terrible analogy, but I think it would be kind of how I would feel if I was the potential victim in a slasher flick. At some point, I think I would just want to walk up to the killer and say, "here I am," so I wouldn't have to run and worry about getting caught anymore.
Just a few days until my Dad gets here. My cable and internet will be turned off on Monday. I won't get home until late Thursday night. So I guess I won't be able to write for a few days, which will be tough since this really does provide a much-needed release for me.
Today, I have to pack more and start in on the cleaning. My apartment is small, but things like the oven are pretty dirty. Having two people basically living in a studio apartment definitely takes its toll. We also have to untangle all of our STUFF. He has a lot of my dishes/clothes/towels, and I have a lot of his. Today we need to do the swapping-of-stuff. I also have to Daddy-proof my room--you know, discretely pack the things that I do not want him to find, like birth control and certain pairs of underwear. I know I am 23 years old, but he is still my Dad and doesn't need to know certain things.
So, I guess I am more upbeat than I have been. It is partly because of the job, and I think partly because I know that I don't have a choice. I have kind of been clinging to that cliche: "If you love somebody, let him go." And I do love him, so I need to respect what he wants and needs. I would never want someone to be with me only because they felt obligated. It will still hurt like hell when the separation actually happens. I know that there will be a lot of tears and a lot of anguish--for both of us--but I know I can get through it. I know that it will probably not be the last time that I will have my heart broken. It will definitely not be the first. I guess it is just a test of strength. Another chance to learn and to show myself that I can get through all sorts of things. Obviously, I would have preferred things to turn out differently, but they didn't, and now I just have to get through it.
I will finish the story of HIM, but I am not sure when. I don't get a lot of time alone to write, since he is here most of the time these days, and I don't want him to read any of this. So, maybe in the next couple days, or maybe after I am home. I need to finish it for myself and it would be easiest to write it now while I still know that he is close by, but it looks like I might have to write it after I've said goodbye to him. It will be hard, but therapeutic I suppose.
For now, I guess I need to get back to packing and start in on the cleaning. The more I get done now, the easier it will be when my Dad gets here.
It is in Montana. Now, I know the initial reaction might be--"Really? Montana? You are excited about Montana?"... but I have legitimate reasons. Okay, well I may as well just come out with it all. The company is in Missoula, Montana. Although I have never been there, my brother actually worked there off and on for a year (his job required travel 90% of the time) and he absolutely loved the city. My brother called me yesterday to gush about Missoula. I was pretty surprised, since my brother is a big city kind of guy through and through. He hates the suburbs. He hates the country. He only likes living in the biggest cities he can find. Although Missoula is the second biggest city in Montana, it is tiny compared to the places my brother usually chooses. But for some reason, he just simply adores it. He said it is the only non-big city he would ever consider moving to. He said, "It has a small-town feel, but has plenty to do and see." Also, from what I have looked at online it is an absolutely gorgeous area with a lot of outdoorsy activities. So, it really does sound like the best of both worlds--city meets country. I don't think that my Mom is too thrilled by the possibility of me ending up there, since I grew up in the northeast, and that move would put me approximately 2,500 miles from home (seriously), although it is only about 1,500 miles from where I am now. She will support me if that is what I choose though. I kind of like the idea of going somewhere completely new. I don't want to get my hopes up, so I am trying to constantly remind myself that it is just a phone interview, but I am starting to really want this job.
This job stuff is really distracting me from the situation with him, which is great. When I do think about our pending separation, my dominant thought is, I just want to get this over with. I really can't take the anticipation (or maybe "dread" is more accurate) anymore. This is a terrible analogy, but I think it would be kind of how I would feel if I was the potential victim in a slasher flick. At some point, I think I would just want to walk up to the killer and say, "here I am," so I wouldn't have to run and worry about getting caught anymore.
Just a few days until my Dad gets here. My cable and internet will be turned off on Monday. I won't get home until late Thursday night. So I guess I won't be able to write for a few days, which will be tough since this really does provide a much-needed release for me.
Today, I have to pack more and start in on the cleaning. My apartment is small, but things like the oven are pretty dirty. Having two people basically living in a studio apartment definitely takes its toll. We also have to untangle all of our STUFF. He has a lot of my dishes/clothes/towels, and I have a lot of his. Today we need to do the swapping-of-stuff. I also have to Daddy-proof my room--you know, discretely pack the things that I do not want him to find, like birth control and certain pairs of underwear. I know I am 23 years old, but he is still my Dad and doesn't need to know certain things.
So, I guess I am more upbeat than I have been. It is partly because of the job, and I think partly because I know that I don't have a choice. I have kind of been clinging to that cliche: "If you love somebody, let him go." And I do love him, so I need to respect what he wants and needs. I would never want someone to be with me only because they felt obligated. It will still hurt like hell when the separation actually happens. I know that there will be a lot of tears and a lot of anguish--for both of us--but I know I can get through it. I know that it will probably not be the last time that I will have my heart broken. It will definitely not be the first. I guess it is just a test of strength. Another chance to learn and to show myself that I can get through all sorts of things. Obviously, I would have preferred things to turn out differently, but they didn't, and now I just have to get through it.
I will finish the story of HIM, but I am not sure when. I don't get a lot of time alone to write, since he is here most of the time these days, and I don't want him to read any of this. So, maybe in the next couple days, or maybe after I am home. I need to finish it for myself and it would be easiest to write it now while I still know that he is close by, but it looks like I might have to write it after I've said goodbye to him. It will be hard, but therapeutic I suppose.
For now, I guess I need to get back to packing and start in on the cleaning. The more I get done now, the easier it will be when my Dad gets here.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Hope
There has been a break on the job front. I have a phone interview on Monday with one of the companies I applied to. Thank goodness. I was starting to feel unemployable, although I know that the job market is just bad right now. I am pretty nervous--it has been awhile since I've interviewed for a job and I've never done it over the phone. I guess I will just hope for the best. I don't want to count my chickens before they hatch, so I think I will hold off writing about the actual job and location until it goes beyond the point of an interview (if it ever does).
I am having a lot of trouble with Comcast right now. Who knew that trying to get one's cable turned off could be so difficult? Long story short, I keep calling, they keep telling me that everything is all set, they keep screwing up, I keep having to call. They just mailed me a bill that should not be as high as it is, since I am shutting off my cable a week into the billing period (they are trying to charge me the full amount), they keep mailing the boxes I need to return my cable equipment to my parents' house instead of my apartment--basically, Comcast sucks. They gave me huge amounts of trouble at the beginning of the year when I was trying to get my cable and internet turned ON, and now I am running into all kinds of problems trying to turn it OFF. I guess it is just part of the headache of moving.
Things with him are fine, but strained at times. Two nights ago, he started getting teary about our situation, and I reacted with anger rather than sympathy. I basically said that he is making the decision that we need to go our separate ways and that I have a hard time feeling bad for him when he gets upset about it. I wasn't saying it in a nasty way--I was just being honest. I know that he is sad too, but a large part of me doesn't feel like he has a right to be. Sometimes I am more rational about it and understand that this is hard for him too, and sometimes I am less rational--like two nights ago. Aside from that little bump, our days and evening have been peaceful, but emotional. For the most part, I think we are both trying to enjoy the time we have left, which is now down to "days" rather than "weeks" or "months." My Dad will be here Tuesday morning. My Dad and I fly home on Thursday evening. I really won't see him much once my Dad gets here. We really just have a long weekend left. In some way, I just want to get the separation over with. Right now I feel like I am pulling a giant band aid off verrrrryyyy slowly, and sometimes I would rather just rip it off in one big pull. In some ways, the end will be welcome, because it will end the feeling of dread that I have now.
My mood has improved since I've heard from one of the places I applied to work. He has basically already accepted a job, or will within the next few days, and I was starting to feel like I was going to be cooped up at my parents' house for a long time while I was still sending out applications just trying not to think about him. At least now I have the possibility of employment. It is just an interview, so it may not work out, but at least I can THINK about living somewhere other than home and working and meeting new people. I am surprised that getting an interview has improved my mood as much as it has, but I am definitely glad for the mental distraction.
I do want to write the rest of my story about HIM, but for now I need to pack and run errands. My Dad will be very unhappy if things don't look better than they do now in my apartment by the time he gets here. It will keep me occupied while HE is at work too. I have a lot to do in not a lot of time.
I am having a lot of trouble with Comcast right now. Who knew that trying to get one's cable turned off could be so difficult? Long story short, I keep calling, they keep telling me that everything is all set, they keep screwing up, I keep having to call. They just mailed me a bill that should not be as high as it is, since I am shutting off my cable a week into the billing period (they are trying to charge me the full amount), they keep mailing the boxes I need to return my cable equipment to my parents' house instead of my apartment--basically, Comcast sucks. They gave me huge amounts of trouble at the beginning of the year when I was trying to get my cable and internet turned ON, and now I am running into all kinds of problems trying to turn it OFF. I guess it is just part of the headache of moving.
Things with him are fine, but strained at times. Two nights ago, he started getting teary about our situation, and I reacted with anger rather than sympathy. I basically said that he is making the decision that we need to go our separate ways and that I have a hard time feeling bad for him when he gets upset about it. I wasn't saying it in a nasty way--I was just being honest. I know that he is sad too, but a large part of me doesn't feel like he has a right to be. Sometimes I am more rational about it and understand that this is hard for him too, and sometimes I am less rational--like two nights ago. Aside from that little bump, our days and evening have been peaceful, but emotional. For the most part, I think we are both trying to enjoy the time we have left, which is now down to "days" rather than "weeks" or "months." My Dad will be here Tuesday morning. My Dad and I fly home on Thursday evening. I really won't see him much once my Dad gets here. We really just have a long weekend left. In some way, I just want to get the separation over with. Right now I feel like I am pulling a giant band aid off verrrrryyyy slowly, and sometimes I would rather just rip it off in one big pull. In some ways, the end will be welcome, because it will end the feeling of dread that I have now.
My mood has improved since I've heard from one of the places I applied to work. He has basically already accepted a job, or will within the next few days, and I was starting to feel like I was going to be cooped up at my parents' house for a long time while I was still sending out applications just trying not to think about him. At least now I have the possibility of employment. It is just an interview, so it may not work out, but at least I can THINK about living somewhere other than home and working and meeting new people. I am surprised that getting an interview has improved my mood as much as it has, but I am definitely glad for the mental distraction.
I do want to write the rest of my story about HIM, but for now I need to pack and run errands. My Dad will be very unhappy if things don't look better than they do now in my apartment by the time he gets here. It will keep me occupied while HE is at work too. I have a lot to do in not a lot of time.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The Story of HIM
Now seems like as good a time as any to write about how I got to this point with him. I know that it will be too hard to write about come next week.
We have only had the type of relationship we have now since late December. September-late December were rocky months. I first met him about a week after I moved in to my apartment. I didn't know anyone here yet. Orientation was set to start the next morning, and I was just laying in bed reading a novel, wearing "staying in" clothes (ie gray track shorts and a baggy gray tank top, hair in a ponytail, no makeup). I heard a knock on my door, which was actually a welcome sound. I had spent the past few days alone and was ready for some human contact. I walked to the door and looked through the peephole to see a guy--good-looking with dark hair (that was all I could tell through the distorted view offered by the peephole). I looked down at my outfit, but decided that it would be ridiculous to make him stand out there while I changed. I opened the door and saw that the guy standing there was definitely attractive. He also had a nice body. He was smiling and holding a six-pack of Corona. This is how the conversation went:
HIM: Hi, my name is ____. I live next door in 315. I just moved in.
ME: Hi! I'm BG. I moved in about a week ago.
We discovered that we were in the same MA program.
ME: Wow, that is a coincidence... hey, do you play the guitar? I have been hearing someone play at night. And I am not complaining. It has actually made it easier for me to sleep. I am not used to living alone, so the sound is comforting.
HIM: Actually, I do. But I haven't played since I got here.
ME: Oh. Well, hey, are you going to the orientation breakfast tomorrow? We could walk down together.
HIM: Nah, I think I am going to sleep in. It was nice to meet you. If you ever need a cup of sugar or anything, feel free to knock. And I just bought a six-pack, if you feel like coming over.
ME: Nice to meet you too. See you around.
I went back to reading in bed. I never really considered accepting his offer of going over his apartment for a beer. I am not sure why. I guess I didn't realize it was a sincere invitation (knowing him now, I know that it was). I had just picked up my book when I got another knock on my door. Him again.
HIM: Hey. I think I will go to that breakfast tomorrow. What time should we plan to leave?
We picked a time, and the next morning he knocked on my door and we walked down. As we stepped out of our apartment building, he lit a cigarette. Apparently I gave him a look, because he said, "Does the smoke bother you?" I said no, and we kept walking and talking. The truth is, I had never dated a smoker before. Although I was not yet thinking that we would end up like we are now, I was momentarily surprised by the smoke. But I got used to it very quickly, and he tells me that I stopped looked at him funny when he lit up a cigarette after about a week. On the walk, I learned that he studied archeology, and I told him about what types of history I studied. We talked about where we had been before moving here, and all of the other usual things you talk about with someone you've just met. We sat near each other at the breakfast, but after that, lost each other in the chaos of orientation activities.
The next evening, our program was having an outdoor cocktail party as a final orientation activity. I got dressed and ready to go and then decided to knock on his door to see if he wanted to walk down with me. He told me that he was going to stay in and play his guitar, but said that I should stop by after the party. I told him I would and headed out.
After the party, I was a bit tipsy from too much wine. But that only emboldened me to knock on his door. He seemed a little surprised to see me, but welcomed me in. We sat and talked for several hours until he told me that it was probably time for him to think about sleeping. Since the next day was Saturday, and we didn't have any orientation activities, we decided that we should head downtown together to check out the city. We picked a time and said goodnight. The next day, we were both tired and neither of us were feeling very well, me from the wine, and him from the beer in his apartment I think. We decided to postpone our trip to Sunday, and both spent our Saturdays doing our own thing.
When Sunday came around, we were both ready to go. We hopped on the train, went downtown, and took pictures with various famous sites in the city. We decided to get a drink at a nice restaurant by the water. We each wound up having two. That day at the restaurant, we got past all of the initial "getting-to-know-you" conversations and really got into the grittier aspects of our pasts. For some reason, I felt very comfortable telling him all about the different things I've been through. He confided in me that he had recently had his heart broken by his breakup with his ex. Although he'd broken up with her it had been very hard on him. We talked for awhile and then decided to head to a bar that I had been to with my parents when they dropped me off. It was just down the street, so the walk over was short. We sat and talked at the bar for several more hours. Conversation with him was easy. I was really enjoying his company. Eventually, we decided that we should head back to our apartment building.
When we got back, he came to my apartment with me. We sat on the couch and talked more. My cable was scheduled to be hooked up the next day, so we really had nothing to do but talk. We were both pretty tipsy, and started getting flirty before long. Our heads were on opposite ends of the couch, with our feet in the middle. He picked up one of my feet and started rubbing it. It was a smooth move, let me tell you. Before long we were making out. That is all we did that night.
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I need to shower and get back to packing. This one will have to be a multi-parter!
We have only had the type of relationship we have now since late December. September-late December were rocky months. I first met him about a week after I moved in to my apartment. I didn't know anyone here yet. Orientation was set to start the next morning, and I was just laying in bed reading a novel, wearing "staying in" clothes (ie gray track shorts and a baggy gray tank top, hair in a ponytail, no makeup). I heard a knock on my door, which was actually a welcome sound. I had spent the past few days alone and was ready for some human contact. I walked to the door and looked through the peephole to see a guy--good-looking with dark hair (that was all I could tell through the distorted view offered by the peephole). I looked down at my outfit, but decided that it would be ridiculous to make him stand out there while I changed. I opened the door and saw that the guy standing there was definitely attractive. He also had a nice body. He was smiling and holding a six-pack of Corona. This is how the conversation went:
HIM: Hi, my name is ____. I live next door in 315. I just moved in.
ME: Hi! I'm BG. I moved in about a week ago.
We discovered that we were in the same MA program.
ME: Wow, that is a coincidence... hey, do you play the guitar? I have been hearing someone play at night. And I am not complaining. It has actually made it easier for me to sleep. I am not used to living alone, so the sound is comforting.
HIM: Actually, I do. But I haven't played since I got here.
ME: Oh. Well, hey, are you going to the orientation breakfast tomorrow? We could walk down together.
HIM: Nah, I think I am going to sleep in. It was nice to meet you. If you ever need a cup of sugar or anything, feel free to knock. And I just bought a six-pack, if you feel like coming over.
ME: Nice to meet you too. See you around.
I went back to reading in bed. I never really considered accepting his offer of going over his apartment for a beer. I am not sure why. I guess I didn't realize it was a sincere invitation (knowing him now, I know that it was). I had just picked up my book when I got another knock on my door. Him again.
HIM: Hey. I think I will go to that breakfast tomorrow. What time should we plan to leave?
We picked a time, and the next morning he knocked on my door and we walked down. As we stepped out of our apartment building, he lit a cigarette. Apparently I gave him a look, because he said, "Does the smoke bother you?" I said no, and we kept walking and talking. The truth is, I had never dated a smoker before. Although I was not yet thinking that we would end up like we are now, I was momentarily surprised by the smoke. But I got used to it very quickly, and he tells me that I stopped looked at him funny when he lit up a cigarette after about a week. On the walk, I learned that he studied archeology, and I told him about what types of history I studied. We talked about where we had been before moving here, and all of the other usual things you talk about with someone you've just met. We sat near each other at the breakfast, but after that, lost each other in the chaos of orientation activities.
The next evening, our program was having an outdoor cocktail party as a final orientation activity. I got dressed and ready to go and then decided to knock on his door to see if he wanted to walk down with me. He told me that he was going to stay in and play his guitar, but said that I should stop by after the party. I told him I would and headed out.
After the party, I was a bit tipsy from too much wine. But that only emboldened me to knock on his door. He seemed a little surprised to see me, but welcomed me in. We sat and talked for several hours until he told me that it was probably time for him to think about sleeping. Since the next day was Saturday, and we didn't have any orientation activities, we decided that we should head downtown together to check out the city. We picked a time and said goodnight. The next day, we were both tired and neither of us were feeling very well, me from the wine, and him from the beer in his apartment I think. We decided to postpone our trip to Sunday, and both spent our Saturdays doing our own thing.
When Sunday came around, we were both ready to go. We hopped on the train, went downtown, and took pictures with various famous sites in the city. We decided to get a drink at a nice restaurant by the water. We each wound up having two. That day at the restaurant, we got past all of the initial "getting-to-know-you" conversations and really got into the grittier aspects of our pasts. For some reason, I felt very comfortable telling him all about the different things I've been through. He confided in me that he had recently had his heart broken by his breakup with his ex. Although he'd broken up with her it had been very hard on him. We talked for awhile and then decided to head to a bar that I had been to with my parents when they dropped me off. It was just down the street, so the walk over was short. We sat and talked at the bar for several more hours. Conversation with him was easy. I was really enjoying his company. Eventually, we decided that we should head back to our apartment building.
When we got back, he came to my apartment with me. We sat on the couch and talked more. My cable was scheduled to be hooked up the next day, so we really had nothing to do but talk. We were both pretty tipsy, and started getting flirty before long. Our heads were on opposite ends of the couch, with our feet in the middle. He picked up one of my feet and started rubbing it. It was a smooth move, let me tell you. Before long we were making out. That is all we did that night.
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I need to shower and get back to packing. This one will have to be a multi-parter!
Monday, August 18, 2008
Up And Down
I am going through moods in waves. I will feel fine for a little while, and then I will snap at him about almost anything I can find to snap about. Sometimes I am perfectly able to "live in the moment" and enjoy the time we have, and other times I am thinking about next week--the last night he and I will spend together, the moment my Dad arrives, getting on the plane to leave here. When I hit those moments, devastation washes over me. It sounds overly dramatic, but that really is how it feels. I feel like a piece of me is being ripped away.
I think that the hardest time is actually going to be the three days that my Dad is here helping me pack. My Dad is sleeping on my floor to save on the cost of a hotel. That means next Sunday night is the last night that HE will be sleeping here. I probably won't see much of him on those three days that my Dad is here, but I will know that he is right next door. Next Sunday is really "goodbye" for me and him. After that it will never be the same again.
I know that it will hurt him too. I really do believe him when he says that. But I still can't help being angry at him for letting this go. I keep feeling like I am being thrown away. I can already feel a big hole opening up inside me. I feel broken. I don't want to go home with my parents. I want to be alone. I want to go somewhere by myself. I can't allow myself to feel everything I need to feel when they are around me. I guess as soon as I get home I will have to start looking for places to live. I will go visit my brother and maybe find a place near him.
I feel myself sinking and I don't know how to stop it. I know that I will be okay. I will be fine. I just need to go through all of the emotions. There is no easy way through this. I need to let myself feel broken. I shouldn't fight it.
I guess I need to pack more today and try not to think about things.
I think that the hardest time is actually going to be the three days that my Dad is here helping me pack. My Dad is sleeping on my floor to save on the cost of a hotel. That means next Sunday night is the last night that HE will be sleeping here. I probably won't see much of him on those three days that my Dad is here, but I will know that he is right next door. Next Sunday is really "goodbye" for me and him. After that it will never be the same again.
I know that it will hurt him too. I really do believe him when he says that. But I still can't help being angry at him for letting this go. I keep feeling like I am being thrown away. I can already feel a big hole opening up inside me. I feel broken. I don't want to go home with my parents. I want to be alone. I want to go somewhere by myself. I can't allow myself to feel everything I need to feel when they are around me. I guess as soon as I get home I will have to start looking for places to live. I will go visit my brother and maybe find a place near him.
I feel myself sinking and I don't know how to stop it. I know that I will be okay. I will be fine. I just need to go through all of the emotions. There is no easy way through this. I need to let myself feel broken. I shouldn't fight it.
I guess I need to pack more today and try not to think about things.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Four Weddings and a Bachelorette Party
Yesterday, he and I went downtown to see a movie. First, we stopped at a place that he heard had "the best burgers in the city." They were really good. It is still kind of a big claim, but I will at least admit that they are up in the top ten.
After eating, we headed to the really big movie theater downtown to see Dark Knight. I have to say that it really did live up to the hype. Normally, I don't really enjoy comic book movies. I'm not sure why--I just don't. But I liked Batman Begins, so I figured I would give it a shot, especially since I'd heard such good things about it. It was definitely worth the price of admission.
When the movie ended, he convinced me to do something I have NEVER done before--not even in my teenage years. Really: never. He convinced me to casually walk into another theater with him, since there was really no one around checking, to see another movie for free. I was quite nervous to be honest. Like I said, I have never done that before--not even in my teenage years. As he and I walked into the theater for Tropic Thunder, I could hear my Mom's voice in my head saying, "That's just dishonest!" But I got over it, and we watched the second movie without incident (my assessment of Tropic Thunder is that it is only funny if you are surrounded by a room full of laughing people. And also that it will probably single-handedly rehabilitate Tom Cruise's damaged public image). In some way, I convinced myself that movie tickets are so overprices that I SHOULD be able to see two movies. A large part of me was also thinking, you are way too old to be doing this, but I don't plan to make a habit out of it, so I can admit that it was fun.
Two movies were more than enough for one night, so we left after Tropic Thunder (although he half-heartedly tried to convince me to see Pineapple Express too). He decided that he wanted to go to a bar that we often go to when we are downtown. We headed there and ordered drinks. A few minutes later a bride, wearing the full wedding dress and still holding her bouquet, walked in with what looked like wedding guests. I thought it was a little odd. It looked like a pretty formal wedding, and I couldn't figure out what they were doing in a bar--but the bar is in a hotel, so I figured that maybe it was a post-reception celebration before heading to bed. So, I just thought, aw, she looks pretty in her dress, and went back to talking to him.
He and I had a good time, sitting, drinking, talking--everything was normal. Until I looked up to see a SECOND bride walking in wearing a full wedding dress and being trailed by members of her wedding party. My first thought was, well maybe it was a wedding with two brides, but the two did not interact once, and did not seem to know each other. So that was really strange. In all the times we've been to that bar, I have not ONCE seen a bride or any member of a wedding party. But I guess stranger things could happen than seeing two brides in a bar.
We shrugged it off as an odd coincidence and continued to talk and drink.... until about an hour later when a THIRD bride walked in in full wedding regalia being trailed by a third wedding party. WHAT?!
I started looking around for hidden cameras. I actually asked him in all seriousness if this was a dream. It was just odd enough that I couldn't wrap my head around it. He brought up the fact that we'd also seen a bride with her bridal party walking down the street when we were on our way to dinner--and it was definitely not one of these three brides.
Okay, well we do live in a big city. The weather is pleasant. It must just be a popular wedding weekend. But the three brides in the bar--that is still strange. Was there some kind of "brides drink free" deal going on? None of them seemed at all phased by the fact that there were two other brides there, but none of them seemed to know each other. No interaction at all. And I don't think it was a practical joke--they all had nice hair styles, and expensive-looking bouquets of flowers (all three different), and a bunch of men with boutineers and tuxes, and dressed-up wedding guests--it would have been a very elaborate and expensive joke. HE didn't seem to get how strange it was. But it was, right?
So eventually we headed out. As we were walking to the door, we passed a group of girls who were walking toward the bar, one of whom was wearing a long bridal veil. Clearly a bachelorette party. Now we HAVE seen bachelorette parties at that bar before, so it wasn't that strange, but I kind of wished I could see the bachelorette's face when she walked into the bar. I hope she took the three brides as a good omen. I kind of wanted them all to take a picture together, if only so I could snap one too to document the strangeness of the night. I have to say that that was one of my odder experiences in this city.
All-in-all, we had a good night. We enjoyed the movies, we had a good time chatting at the bar, and it was just all around more pleasant than the night before. We got home around 2 or 2:30, and I was asleep by 4:00. He is still sleeping (what else is new?). Hopefully today will be a nice day too.
After eating, we headed to the really big movie theater downtown to see Dark Knight. I have to say that it really did live up to the hype. Normally, I don't really enjoy comic book movies. I'm not sure why--I just don't. But I liked Batman Begins, so I figured I would give it a shot, especially since I'd heard such good things about it. It was definitely worth the price of admission.
When the movie ended, he convinced me to do something I have NEVER done before--not even in my teenage years. Really: never. He convinced me to casually walk into another theater with him, since there was really no one around checking, to see another movie for free. I was quite nervous to be honest. Like I said, I have never done that before--not even in my teenage years. As he and I walked into the theater for Tropic Thunder, I could hear my Mom's voice in my head saying, "That's just dishonest!" But I got over it, and we watched the second movie without incident (my assessment of Tropic Thunder is that it is only funny if you are surrounded by a room full of laughing people. And also that it will probably single-handedly rehabilitate Tom Cruise's damaged public image). In some way, I convinced myself that movie tickets are so overprices that I SHOULD be able to see two movies. A large part of me was also thinking, you are way too old to be doing this, but I don't plan to make a habit out of it, so I can admit that it was fun.
Two movies were more than enough for one night, so we left after Tropic Thunder (although he half-heartedly tried to convince me to see Pineapple Express too). He decided that he wanted to go to a bar that we often go to when we are downtown. We headed there and ordered drinks. A few minutes later a bride, wearing the full wedding dress and still holding her bouquet, walked in with what looked like wedding guests. I thought it was a little odd. It looked like a pretty formal wedding, and I couldn't figure out what they were doing in a bar--but the bar is in a hotel, so I figured that maybe it was a post-reception celebration before heading to bed. So, I just thought, aw, she looks pretty in her dress, and went back to talking to him.
He and I had a good time, sitting, drinking, talking--everything was normal. Until I looked up to see a SECOND bride walking in wearing a full wedding dress and being trailed by members of her wedding party. My first thought was, well maybe it was a wedding with two brides, but the two did not interact once, and did not seem to know each other. So that was really strange. In all the times we've been to that bar, I have not ONCE seen a bride or any member of a wedding party. But I guess stranger things could happen than seeing two brides in a bar.
We shrugged it off as an odd coincidence and continued to talk and drink.... until about an hour later when a THIRD bride walked in in full wedding regalia being trailed by a third wedding party. WHAT?!
I started looking around for hidden cameras. I actually asked him in all seriousness if this was a dream. It was just odd enough that I couldn't wrap my head around it. He brought up the fact that we'd also seen a bride with her bridal party walking down the street when we were on our way to dinner--and it was definitely not one of these three brides.
Okay, well we do live in a big city. The weather is pleasant. It must just be a popular wedding weekend. But the three brides in the bar--that is still strange. Was there some kind of "brides drink free" deal going on? None of them seemed at all phased by the fact that there were two other brides there, but none of them seemed to know each other. No interaction at all. And I don't think it was a practical joke--they all had nice hair styles, and expensive-looking bouquets of flowers (all three different), and a bunch of men with boutineers and tuxes, and dressed-up wedding guests--it would have been a very elaborate and expensive joke. HE didn't seem to get how strange it was. But it was, right?
So eventually we headed out. As we were walking to the door, we passed a group of girls who were walking toward the bar, one of whom was wearing a long bridal veil. Clearly a bachelorette party. Now we HAVE seen bachelorette parties at that bar before, so it wasn't that strange, but I kind of wished I could see the bachelorette's face when she walked into the bar. I hope she took the three brides as a good omen. I kind of wanted them all to take a picture together, if only so I could snap one too to document the strangeness of the night. I have to say that that was one of my odder experiences in this city.
All-in-all, we had a good night. We enjoyed the movies, we had a good time chatting at the bar, and it was just all around more pleasant than the night before. We got home around 2 or 2:30, and I was asleep by 4:00. He is still sleeping (what else is new?). Hopefully today will be a nice day too.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Finally Composed
My anger lasted alllll night last night. I thought I had calmed down, so I went over to see him a few hours after the original discussion and I started crying again. I cried off and on all night. He came over and ate dinner with me and watched the Olympics as usual, but I could hardly keep myself from snapping at him any chance I got. More than mean, I was just moody. And whether or not it seemed like it to him, I was actually trying really really hard to keep my mood in check.
Today I woke up feeling a little better. Better enough to behave almost completely normally around him. He is still sleeping (here, as usual), but I think when he wakes up I will do my best to act like nothing happened. Not just for him, but for me. I need this last week to be a good experience. I will have plenty of time to be mad at him after I leave.
I need to figure out what to do after I go home with my parents. I have thought about moving to where my brother lives. It is in another city, closer to home. My Mom loves that idea, because it would put me closer to home than I have been for five years, and it would make it possible for us to all get together as a family more often than once a year (at Christmas). There are a lot of upsides to moving to his city. The only downside really, is that I don't really like my brother's boyfriend (who he lives with now). Maybe I would learn to like him. He just came off as rather rude and moody the one time that I met him. I would have THOUGHT that he would have wanted to make a good impression on me and my parents, but apparently his attitude is just a permanent part of his personality. Oh well, he treats my brother well, so I guess that is all that matters.
The other big question mark is that I still have a good number of job applications floating around out there. I would hate to move and then have one of those come through and have to move again. I could also stay in this city. But I think I like the idea of moving near my brother best right now. I don't get to see him often, it is a big city, and he could show me the ropes. I will definitely visit him soon after I get home to check it out.
I guess I will go try to enjoy the day.
Today I woke up feeling a little better. Better enough to behave almost completely normally around him. He is still sleeping (here, as usual), but I think when he wakes up I will do my best to act like nothing happened. Not just for him, but for me. I need this last week to be a good experience. I will have plenty of time to be mad at him after I leave.
I need to figure out what to do after I go home with my parents. I have thought about moving to where my brother lives. It is in another city, closer to home. My Mom loves that idea, because it would put me closer to home than I have been for five years, and it would make it possible for us to all get together as a family more often than once a year (at Christmas). There are a lot of upsides to moving to his city. The only downside really, is that I don't really like my brother's boyfriend (who he lives with now). Maybe I would learn to like him. He just came off as rather rude and moody the one time that I met him. I would have THOUGHT that he would have wanted to make a good impression on me and my parents, but apparently his attitude is just a permanent part of his personality. Oh well, he treats my brother well, so I guess that is all that matters.
The other big question mark is that I still have a good number of job applications floating around out there. I would hate to move and then have one of those come through and have to move again. I could also stay in this city. But I think I like the idea of moving near my brother best right now. I don't get to see him often, it is a big city, and he could show me the ropes. I will definitely visit him soon after I get home to check it out.
I guess I will go try to enjoy the day.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Last Hand Played
Well, I brought it up. He said, "I'm just not ready for that type of commitment at this point in my life." I basically told him that it must be because he does not want ME. He said that it wasn't about him not caring enough about me. I asked him how he feels about me. He said, "I care about you a lot." I said, "Do you love me?" He said, "Yes, you could say that. That is why I get upset when I think about the year ending." And on and on it went.
Basically, he just keeps saying that he cares about me a lot and will miss me a lot, but it is not the right time in his life to make that much of a commitment. My take on the situation is that I am just not the right girl for him. That is all I want him to say. I told him that is what I think, and he said, "I will not tell you that because it isn't true." So, I am left not really understanding his reasoning. I guess I don't have to understand. He is just going to keep repeating the same things, and I am going to continue to believe that he is holding back the real reasons. I would rather him be harsh. I would rather him say, "I don't love you. You are not someone that I want to take a chance with. I enjoyed our time together, and I will miss you, but I don't have any desire to try to make it work because you are not the person for me." Why can't he just say that? I really believe that it's true. THAT reason I could understand. What he says just makes no sense to me. You either love a person enough to make it work, or you don't. I don't see a gray area. Am I missing something?
I guess my confusion doesn't really matter. I have my answer. He doesn't want to try anything to make this work. In ten days we are over. In ten days we are just parts of each others' pasts. We are people that we will tell future significant others about when talking about past relationships. When this slow, agonizing end is finally over, he will just be a series of memories, which will probably become harder and harder to call into my mind as time passes.
At least I tried. I can't do anything about the fact that he wants something different than what I want. I took a chance. I laid it all out there. I don't know how to enjoy this next ten days now. I don't know how to be around him without feeling angry. I know that it is not fair to be angry at him for this. He is just being true to himself and doing what he needs to do to be happy. Deep down, I do respect that. It is just so hard to put my emotions aside and accept it. But now I really have no choice. I can't ignore the end--it is only ten days away, and I can't hold on to any hope because today I lost all of it.
I packed two big boxes today. I cried the whole time. I just feel angry. That is all I can manage to feel right now. I feel like he doesn't have the right to feel sad. I am angry that he has shed tears over this. I am being completely irrational, I am being completely unfair, and I am being completely selfish. But right now, I can't manage to talk sense into myself. A small part of me want to go over to his apartment and hug him and cry and tell him that I am not angry, that I respect what he needs, that I can take this gracefully--but that part is overpowered by raw emotion right now. By the desire to scream at him, and cry, and rant, and say mean, spiteful things just to hurt him. But that would only make me feel worse. I just need to keep to myself for the time being. Maybe just for a few hours. I am still determined to make the most of these final ten days, but first I need to find a way to get past my anger, frustration, and sadness.
How do I do this? How do I accept this? How do get past these feelings of anger? I don't have the luxury of fuming alone right now. There is just no time for that. I need to get myself together NOW. I can be stronger than this.
I am not a religious person (as I've mentioned before), but the serenity prayer keeps running through my head: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference." Except, I almost feel like it should say, "courage to accept the things I cannot change." I think I need courage more than serenity. I need the courage to let go, when it is the very last thing in the world I want to do. I need the courage to enjoy these last ten days, knowing that they really are the LAST ten days. I am strong. I have been through enough hard times to know that I have inner strength. It is just hard to accept that I can't change the situation. Maybe I need courage, serenity, AND wisdom. I am smart enough to give up. I am brave enough to get through this. I just need to add a little serenity to the mix and I will be fine. I just need to calm down.
Basically, he just keeps saying that he cares about me a lot and will miss me a lot, but it is not the right time in his life to make that much of a commitment. My take on the situation is that I am just not the right girl for him. That is all I want him to say. I told him that is what I think, and he said, "I will not tell you that because it isn't true." So, I am left not really understanding his reasoning. I guess I don't have to understand. He is just going to keep repeating the same things, and I am going to continue to believe that he is holding back the real reasons. I would rather him be harsh. I would rather him say, "I don't love you. You are not someone that I want to take a chance with. I enjoyed our time together, and I will miss you, but I don't have any desire to try to make it work because you are not the person for me." Why can't he just say that? I really believe that it's true. THAT reason I could understand. What he says just makes no sense to me. You either love a person enough to make it work, or you don't. I don't see a gray area. Am I missing something?
I guess my confusion doesn't really matter. I have my answer. He doesn't want to try anything to make this work. In ten days we are over. In ten days we are just parts of each others' pasts. We are people that we will tell future significant others about when talking about past relationships. When this slow, agonizing end is finally over, he will just be a series of memories, which will probably become harder and harder to call into my mind as time passes.
At least I tried. I can't do anything about the fact that he wants something different than what I want. I took a chance. I laid it all out there. I don't know how to enjoy this next ten days now. I don't know how to be around him without feeling angry. I know that it is not fair to be angry at him for this. He is just being true to himself and doing what he needs to do to be happy. Deep down, I do respect that. It is just so hard to put my emotions aside and accept it. But now I really have no choice. I can't ignore the end--it is only ten days away, and I can't hold on to any hope because today I lost all of it.
I packed two big boxes today. I cried the whole time. I just feel angry. That is all I can manage to feel right now. I feel like he doesn't have the right to feel sad. I am angry that he has shed tears over this. I am being completely irrational, I am being completely unfair, and I am being completely selfish. But right now, I can't manage to talk sense into myself. A small part of me want to go over to his apartment and hug him and cry and tell him that I am not angry, that I respect what he needs, that I can take this gracefully--but that part is overpowered by raw emotion right now. By the desire to scream at him, and cry, and rant, and say mean, spiteful things just to hurt him. But that would only make me feel worse. I just need to keep to myself for the time being. Maybe just for a few hours. I am still determined to make the most of these final ten days, but first I need to find a way to get past my anger, frustration, and sadness.
How do I do this? How do I accept this? How do get past these feelings of anger? I don't have the luxury of fuming alone right now. There is just no time for that. I need to get myself together NOW. I can be stronger than this.
I am not a religious person (as I've mentioned before), but the serenity prayer keeps running through my head: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference." Except, I almost feel like it should say, "courage to accept the things I cannot change." I think I need courage more than serenity. I need the courage to let go, when it is the very last thing in the world I want to do. I need the courage to enjoy these last ten days, knowing that they really are the LAST ten days. I am strong. I have been through enough hard times to know that I have inner strength. It is just hard to accept that I can't change the situation. Maybe I need courage, serenity, AND wisdom. I am smart enough to give up. I am brave enough to get through this. I just need to add a little serenity to the mix and I will be fine. I just need to calm down.
Boxes and Planes
I really need to get going on this packing thing. My Dad wants me to go buy shipping boxes and have a lot of my apartment packed before he gets here. My apartment also needs some serious cleaning. It doesn't look so bad at first glance, but a lot of things have migrated under the bed, or into the back of the closet, etc. I am trying to pump up some motivation to get it done.
He and I were talking about going to see an air show downtown today, but considering that he is still sleeping and the show starts at 3:00, I don't think that is going to happen. I actually don't mind. I am starting to really feel the pressure to start packing, and I think I should work on that today rather than going downtown.
I guess I have been feeling a little better these past two days. This is going to sound bad, but I think I am feeling better because he seems to be feeling worse. He has actually spontaneously shed a few tears about this situation. He has told me that he is sad, and scared for the end to come. It is much easier knowing that I am not the only one who feels something. The other, more unhealthy reason that I have been feeling better is that I have somehow convinced myself that maybe there is still a little chance that this "relationship" doesn't have to end. I will explain myself:
I have not heard anything on the job front in the past week or so. He has gotten a job offer from one company based in South Dakota, he might get a job offer for Georgia, and who knows where else. Basically, he is getting a lot of bites. Since I am not hearing anything, and he might already know where he is going to be next year, the thought has crossed my mind of suggesting that I go with him wherever he goes and find a random job there. I know it is a little crazy. I jokingly (very jokingly) brought it up last night. I have been wanting to talk about it for the last couple days, but the time hasn't felt right.
A couple years ago, I would have looked at a suggestion like that as absolutely crazy. I would have said, "You should never structure your life around a guy." But I feel like I am allowed to take that chance right now. I know that it might not work out. I am not deluding myself to think that we necessarily be together forever. It is possible, but I know that it could very well not work out. I am just talking about TRYING. About giving this a chance. Am I crazy?
I know that he probably won't go for the idea. When I joked about it last night, he quipped back, "You would HATE South Dakota." I don't think he will like the idea of me going wherever he goes and giving up possible jobs in my field to just work anywhere to get by. I know he won't like that. But maybe he will listen to my reasoning. I am only 23. I have a lot of time to find a job that I love. Right now, I want to be near him. I am willing to spend a year working just to make money. As for what my parents would think.... well, they would definitely be confused, since I have insisted up and down that he and I are not dating. But, as my father told me, I am an adult and it is my life now. I can make whatever decisions I have to make to be happy. This would DEFINITELY mark the first time I had ever turned my life upside down for a guy. This is the first time I have really wanted to.
God, I wish R had called me when she said she would (about 2 weeks ago). I feel like an outsider's perspective would be valuable in this situation. She is the only one who knows enough about the situation to give me an opinion--although I haven't talked to her about it since... March or April? So she doesn't really know much about the situation at all anymore, but she still knows more than anyone else in my life.
I don't know what I should do. Should I bring it up to him, or am I just being insane? Am I being completely unreasonable because I am blinded by my feelings for him? Should I just let the end be the end and move on? Would it be crazy to move with him? No matter what, I will be going home with my parents for at least a week or two after I move out of here. Maybe I could tell him that we can take that time to think about it. But first I need to figure out how to have a serious conversation with him about this. I think that I am afraid to bring it up, because if he says "no," then that is the end of all hope. Time is running out. I have ten days before my Dad gets here. TEN. Wow. I have to broach this topic soon. That way, at least I won't leave feeling like I didn't try. Even if he says "no," I think I have to try.
What should I do? I don't know. Should I try? Am I crazy to try?
He and I were talking about going to see an air show downtown today, but considering that he is still sleeping and the show starts at 3:00, I don't think that is going to happen. I actually don't mind. I am starting to really feel the pressure to start packing, and I think I should work on that today rather than going downtown.
I guess I have been feeling a little better these past two days. This is going to sound bad, but I think I am feeling better because he seems to be feeling worse. He has actually spontaneously shed a few tears about this situation. He has told me that he is sad, and scared for the end to come. It is much easier knowing that I am not the only one who feels something. The other, more unhealthy reason that I have been feeling better is that I have somehow convinced myself that maybe there is still a little chance that this "relationship" doesn't have to end. I will explain myself:
I have not heard anything on the job front in the past week or so. He has gotten a job offer from one company based in South Dakota, he might get a job offer for Georgia, and who knows where else. Basically, he is getting a lot of bites. Since I am not hearing anything, and he might already know where he is going to be next year, the thought has crossed my mind of suggesting that I go with him wherever he goes and find a random job there. I know it is a little crazy. I jokingly (very jokingly) brought it up last night. I have been wanting to talk about it for the last couple days, but the time hasn't felt right.
A couple years ago, I would have looked at a suggestion like that as absolutely crazy. I would have said, "You should never structure your life around a guy." But I feel like I am allowed to take that chance right now. I know that it might not work out. I am not deluding myself to think that we necessarily be together forever. It is possible, but I know that it could very well not work out. I am just talking about TRYING. About giving this a chance. Am I crazy?
I know that he probably won't go for the idea. When I joked about it last night, he quipped back, "You would HATE South Dakota." I don't think he will like the idea of me going wherever he goes and giving up possible jobs in my field to just work anywhere to get by. I know he won't like that. But maybe he will listen to my reasoning. I am only 23. I have a lot of time to find a job that I love. Right now, I want to be near him. I am willing to spend a year working just to make money. As for what my parents would think.... well, they would definitely be confused, since I have insisted up and down that he and I are not dating. But, as my father told me, I am an adult and it is my life now. I can make whatever decisions I have to make to be happy. This would DEFINITELY mark the first time I had ever turned my life upside down for a guy. This is the first time I have really wanted to.
God, I wish R had called me when she said she would (about 2 weeks ago). I feel like an outsider's perspective would be valuable in this situation. She is the only one who knows enough about the situation to give me an opinion--although I haven't talked to her about it since... March or April? So she doesn't really know much about the situation at all anymore, but she still knows more than anyone else in my life.
I don't know what I should do. Should I bring it up to him, or am I just being insane? Am I being completely unreasonable because I am blinded by my feelings for him? Should I just let the end be the end and move on? Would it be crazy to move with him? No matter what, I will be going home with my parents for at least a week or two after I move out of here. Maybe I could tell him that we can take that time to think about it. But first I need to figure out how to have a serious conversation with him about this. I think that I am afraid to bring it up, because if he says "no," then that is the end of all hope. Time is running out. I have ten days before my Dad gets here. TEN. Wow. I have to broach this topic soon. That way, at least I won't leave feeling like I didn't try. Even if he says "no," I think I have to try.
What should I do? I don't know. Should I try? Am I crazy to try?
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Something Different
Since I have nothing to say about this situation at the moment that hasn't already been said (we still are not talking about it, I still cry at any mention of moving), I guess I will talk about what was randomly on my mind as I fell asleep last night.
Sometimes, just like songs do, poems get stuck in my head. I guess that happens for a lot of people? I would imagine anyways. I have always found myself drawn most to poems that express feelings about loss, grief, and death. It sounds depressing, I know, but that is not why I like them. I think that those just tend to be the poems that feel the most real to me. I am always impressed by certain poets' ability to describe an emotion that a lot of people feel, but that is hard to put into words, so well. I guess in a way it makes me feel connected to people in general to know that someone was able to describe an emotion that I, and most people I know, have felt at some point in their life.
Many of my favorite poems on the topics of death and loss come from Emily Dickinson. Yes, it is a little cliche, but I think she is known for that kind of poetry because she is SO good at it. Dickinson experienced a lot of death and loss in her life, so you can understand where her ability to express the feelings surrounding it come from. I don't find her poetry depressing, like most people seem to. I find it beautiful, and even comforting. I guess to me it means that in moments of grief, I will always know that someone felt those feelings before me. I will never be alone in those emotions. There are so many of her poems that I love. I think this is one of my favorites:
It struck me every day
The lightning was as new
As if some cloud that instant slit
And let the fire through
It burned me in the night
It blistered in my dream;
It sickened fresh upon my sight
With every morning's beam
I thought that storm was brief--
The maddest, quickest by;
But nature lost the date of this
And left it in the sky.
It is not as obvious and literal as many of her poems about death and loss, but I still read it as being about that. To me, it is about someone expecting that pain will pass, and then finding that it just lingers. It is about the inescapable, perpetual nature of grief. I just always found that poem beautiful and true.
This is another of my favorites from Dickinson:
The Frost of Death was on the Pane –
"Secure your Flower" said he.
Like Sailors fighting with a Leak
We fought Mortality
Our passive Flower we held to Sea -
To Mountain - To the Sun -
Yet even on his Scarlet shelf
To crawl the Frost begun -
I have always found these Dickinson poems comforting. It is a confirmation of connection between people. Some emotions are universal. Does that make them more bearable? I don't necessarily think that is the case. But I think poems like these make those emotions less lonely. Even if you are grieving alone, you are never really grieving alone--people before you have felt what you feel. I don't know why that is a nice thought to me.
For the sake of variety, I will end with a couple not from Dickinson. This one is W.H. Auden (and probably most recognizable to people these days as the poem read in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral):
And finally, probably my favorite poem of all for its simplicity, is by Langston Hughes:
I loved my friend.
He went away from me.
There's nothing more to say.
The poem ends,
Soft as it began,--
I loved my friend.
Of course, this poem could apply to many different kinds of loss. I love the sentiment of not being able to find the words to express the grief of losing his friend. While Dickinson and Auden describe grief very well in my opinion, this one expresses the feeling that one cannot really put grief into words.
So, for not real reason, today I felt the desire to share some of my favorite poems. It is a nice change from writing about what is going on in my life right now. I guess it also reminds me that the kind of grief I am experiencing at the moment is NOTHING compared to the grief that comes with death. I am SO lucky that I am not feeling that kind of grief right now. I am determined not to lose sight of how lucky I am in my life. And I am also determined to remember that if my luck runs out, I have something to turn to if I can't find any comfort from the people and things around me. These poems will always be there for me, as ridiculous and cheesy as that sounds.
Sometimes, just like songs do, poems get stuck in my head. I guess that happens for a lot of people? I would imagine anyways. I have always found myself drawn most to poems that express feelings about loss, grief, and death. It sounds depressing, I know, but that is not why I like them. I think that those just tend to be the poems that feel the most real to me. I am always impressed by certain poets' ability to describe an emotion that a lot of people feel, but that is hard to put into words, so well. I guess in a way it makes me feel connected to people in general to know that someone was able to describe an emotion that I, and most people I know, have felt at some point in their life.
Many of my favorite poems on the topics of death and loss come from Emily Dickinson. Yes, it is a little cliche, but I think she is known for that kind of poetry because she is SO good at it. Dickinson experienced a lot of death and loss in her life, so you can understand where her ability to express the feelings surrounding it come from. I don't find her poetry depressing, like most people seem to. I find it beautiful, and even comforting. I guess to me it means that in moments of grief, I will always know that someone felt those feelings before me. I will never be alone in those emotions. There are so many of her poems that I love. I think this is one of my favorites:
It struck me every day
The lightning was as new
As if some cloud that instant slit
And let the fire through
It burned me in the night
It blistered in my dream;
It sickened fresh upon my sight
With every morning's beam
I thought that storm was brief--
The maddest, quickest by;
But nature lost the date of this
And left it in the sky.
It is not as obvious and literal as many of her poems about death and loss, but I still read it as being about that. To me, it is about someone expecting that pain will pass, and then finding that it just lingers. It is about the inescapable, perpetual nature of grief. I just always found that poem beautiful and true.
This is another of my favorites from Dickinson:
The Frost of Death was on the Pane –
"Secure your Flower" said he.
Like Sailors fighting with a Leak
We fought Mortality
Our passive Flower we held to Sea -
To Mountain - To the Sun -
Yet even on his Scarlet shelf
To crawl the Frost begun -
We pried him back
Ourselves we wedged
Himself and her between,
Yet easy as the narrow Snake
He forked his way along
Till all her helpless beauty bent
And then our wrath begun -
We hunted him to his Ravine
We chased him to his Den -
We hated Death and hated Life
And nowhere was to go -
Than Sea and continent there is
A larger - it is Woe –
This one, I would imagine, is about watching a loved one die of some illness, or even old age, and about trying to keep them with you when there is really nothing you can do. I like this one for the desperation and anger it captures. It really shows that grief often expresses itself as anger. And that is really true, isn't it? I think anyone that has experienced loss know that feeling of "hating death and hating life." And then at the very end of the poem, the "wrath" gives way to this vast, consuming grief. You can just tell that Dickinson really experienced this type of emotion herself.
I could go on and on with these poems, but I think I will offer just one more of Dickinson's:
To know just how he suffered would be dear;
To know if any human eyes were near
To whom he could intrust his wavering gaze,
Until it settled firm on Paradise.
To know if he was patient, part content,
Was dying as he thought, or different;
Was it a pleasant day to die,
And did the sunshine face his way?
What was his furthest mind, of home, or God,
Or what the distant say
At news that he ceased human nature
On such a day?
And wishes, had he any?
Just his sigh, accented,
Had been legible to me.
And was he confident until
Ill fluttered out in everlasting well?
And if he spoke, what name was best,
What first,
What one broke off with
At the drowsiest?
Was he afraid, or tranquil?
Might he know
How conscious consciousness could grow,
Till love that was, and love too blest to be,
Meet -- and the junction be Eternity?
I have always found these Dickinson poems comforting. It is a confirmation of connection between people. Some emotions are universal. Does that make them more bearable? I don't necessarily think that is the case. But I think poems like these make those emotions less lonely. Even if you are grieving alone, you are never really grieving alone--people before you have felt what you feel. I don't know why that is a nice thought to me.
For the sake of variety, I will end with a couple not from Dickinson. This one is W.H. Auden (and probably most recognizable to people these days as the poem read in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral):
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
And finally, probably my favorite poem of all for its simplicity, is by Langston Hughes:
I loved my friend.
He went away from me.
There's nothing more to say.
The poem ends,
Soft as it began,--
I loved my friend.
Of course, this poem could apply to many different kinds of loss. I love the sentiment of not being able to find the words to express the grief of losing his friend. While Dickinson and Auden describe grief very well in my opinion, this one expresses the feeling that one cannot really put grief into words.
So, for not real reason, today I felt the desire to share some of my favorite poems. It is a nice change from writing about what is going on in my life right now. I guess it also reminds me that the kind of grief I am experiencing at the moment is NOTHING compared to the grief that comes with death. I am SO lucky that I am not feeling that kind of grief right now. I am determined not to lose sight of how lucky I am in my life. And I am also determined to remember that if my luck runs out, I have something to turn to if I can't find any comfort from the people and things around me. These poems will always be there for me, as ridiculous and cheesy as that sounds.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
The Ball Keeps Rolling
My Dad just called to ask me about different flight times. He is now definitely coming late on the morning of the 26th, sleeping in my apartment for that and the next night while we pack and clean, and we are flying out on the evening of the 28th. So, that is that. The end is set.
Last night, his mother called him to talk to him about similar stuff. He was in my room watching the Olympics with me when she called. I couldn't help crying when he got off the phone. He reacted with the same, "don't cry," and tried to do things to make me laugh. I was honestly a little annoyed, because I felt like he just didn't feel like seeing me cry, but later in the night I realized it was just his way of dealing with the situation.
Later on, he was a little drunk, and he turned to me and just looked really sad. He looked like he kind of tried to shake it off and said, "No, I'm not going to cry. I'm supposed to make you laugh." I asked what he was going to cry about. He said, "You." I asked why, happy to see some emotion out of him about this situation. He said, "I don't know how it is going to be when you're gone. It is going to feel awkward... strange... there really are no words. Maybe 'empty' works best." All I could think was, thank goodness he feels it too.
He is very close to getting a job offer. I have no new news on the job front. Maybe I could suggest going with him? But I know he won't go for that. He would feel guilty about me having to give up job possibilities for him. How could I convince him that it is worth it? That I couldn't care less about the jobs if it comes down to a choice between him and job options. I will find a job where he is. Maybe not in my field, but he only plans to work for a year anyways before applying to PhD programs. Then we would move again. I could do something I didn't enjoy all that much for a year.
Pipe dreams. I have to resign myself to the fact of saying goodbye. He resigned himself to that a long time ago. It would be easier if I believed in fate, or God, or some kind of grand plan. But I don't. I believe that our decisions dictate what happens to us. There is no, "if it is meant to be it will be." I don't believe that things work like that. I wish I did.
We don't really talk about the end. Even when I cry, we don't talk about why I am crying. Neither of us has uttered the words, "two weeks." It is like if we ignore how close the end is, it won't come. We avoid it like the plague. I avoid it because I don't want to have another fight. If it comes up, I know that I will bring up the fact that I want to try to make it work, or at least think about ways it could work, and he doesn't. We will yell. We will cry. We will waste valuable time fighting. That is not what I want.
So, today I will work on revising my thesis. Tonight we will watch the Olympics like we have been doing. The knowledge that tonight is not our last night together is enough for both of us for now. I know that all of my emotion is going to come bursting out of me one of these night, but for now I will try to hold it off. It is better that way--right?
Last night, his mother called him to talk to him about similar stuff. He was in my room watching the Olympics with me when she called. I couldn't help crying when he got off the phone. He reacted with the same, "don't cry," and tried to do things to make me laugh. I was honestly a little annoyed, because I felt like he just didn't feel like seeing me cry, but later in the night I realized it was just his way of dealing with the situation.
Later on, he was a little drunk, and he turned to me and just looked really sad. He looked like he kind of tried to shake it off and said, "No, I'm not going to cry. I'm supposed to make you laugh." I asked what he was going to cry about. He said, "You." I asked why, happy to see some emotion out of him about this situation. He said, "I don't know how it is going to be when you're gone. It is going to feel awkward... strange... there really are no words. Maybe 'empty' works best." All I could think was, thank goodness he feels it too.
He is very close to getting a job offer. I have no new news on the job front. Maybe I could suggest going with him? But I know he won't go for that. He would feel guilty about me having to give up job possibilities for him. How could I convince him that it is worth it? That I couldn't care less about the jobs if it comes down to a choice between him and job options. I will find a job where he is. Maybe not in my field, but he only plans to work for a year anyways before applying to PhD programs. Then we would move again. I could do something I didn't enjoy all that much for a year.
Pipe dreams. I have to resign myself to the fact of saying goodbye. He resigned himself to that a long time ago. It would be easier if I believed in fate, or God, or some kind of grand plan. But I don't. I believe that our decisions dictate what happens to us. There is no, "if it is meant to be it will be." I don't believe that things work like that. I wish I did.
We don't really talk about the end. Even when I cry, we don't talk about why I am crying. Neither of us has uttered the words, "two weeks." It is like if we ignore how close the end is, it won't come. We avoid it like the plague. I avoid it because I don't want to have another fight. If it comes up, I know that I will bring up the fact that I want to try to make it work, or at least think about ways it could work, and he doesn't. We will yell. We will cry. We will waste valuable time fighting. That is not what I want.
So, today I will work on revising my thesis. Tonight we will watch the Olympics like we have been doing. The knowledge that tonight is not our last night together is enough for both of us for now. I know that all of my emotion is going to come bursting out of me one of these night, but for now I will try to hold it off. It is better that way--right?
Monday, August 11, 2008
The Story of M
Well, he has decided to spend the evening playing video games, I am done working on thesis revisions for the night, and there is a break in Olympic coverage--so it seems as good a time as any to write the story of M.
After T, I spent about six months without any interest in guys. I spent most of my time with my female friends, especially R, and focused on my academics.
In my junior year of college, R and I decided to both sign up for an outing club trip, which was happening over our one-week break from classes in February. We were going to go sea-kayaking several states away with a group of students, and two non-student advisers, who had been hired by the school to run the outing club. Neither of us had done anything like that before, and we were really excited.
About a week before the trip, the group got together to talk about the trip and to get to know each other. That was the first time I met M. I recognized him as someone I had had a class with the previous term. All I knew about him was that he was incredibly smart. We had one mutual friend who I remembered telling me that he was the smartest person she knew when she found out we had a class together (which said a lot, considering the fact that she was one of the smartest people I knew). M didn't say a whole lot during the meeting, but I was curious to talk to him. I didn't have any initial romantic interest in him, but I was interested to get to know him in a friendly way.
When we left for the trip a week later, I sat next to him in the van for the first leg of our ride down to our destination. I talked to him a little bit, but everyone in the van was more interested in sleeping than in conversation. I didn't really get to know him until the trip was well underway.
When we got to our destination, we kayaked five hours away from shore, out to a small island where we were going to camp for the week. I really got to know M on the island, at the campfires the group sat around every night.
Halfway through the week, we switched kayaking partners, and M and I wound up (or decided to--it is still unclear) kayaking together. We talked during the day kayaking trips. At night, we started staying out later than the other campers. Several nights, we were the last two people out at the campfire. We were also assigned to the same camp cooking group, meaning that we cooked and ate all of our meals together.
Things were getting pretty flirtatious between us, but I still didn't feel overly interested in M in a romantic way. He seemed almost... innocent. For some reason, that was kind of a turn-off to me. I liked his intelligence, and his ability to carry on a conversation, but I felt like I needed someone grittier, and more experienced with women. Maybe I felt like my own past made me a better match for someone who had some relationship experience--and some scars. He just struck me as rather inexperienced and undamaged.
One night, when we were the last two sitting around the campfire, M surprised me by kissing me as I was about to head off to my tent. I was taken completely by surprise. I really didn't think that he would have the guts to make a move. I don't remember what I said. I remember staying out on the beach for a few more minutes and then going to bed.
The next day, things were awkward. I think we were both unsure about how to act around each other. Things always seem different in daylight than they do at night. What had seemed relatively benign the night before now felt like a source of awkwardness.
There was not much time left in the trip. I didn't stay out at the campfire the next couple nights, partly because I was exhausted from staying up late every night and kayaking hard every day, and partly because I didn't know if I wanted a repeat of that kiss.
In the long car ride back from the trip, he asked me for my phone number. When we got back, I emailed him just to say hi. I am not sure why. I was still unsure of the situation, but I was also drawn to him. The guts that he had shown in kissing me on the beach partly counteracted my hesitation over his innocence.
We got together for coffee a few days later, and were pretty much together from that point forward. I don't really know if either of us decided to be in a relationship, or if we just kind of fell into it. On my part, I think I felt safe with M. After T, I guess I needed to feel secure. M was supportive, caring, and there for me whenever I needed him. I hadn't exactly decided that I was ready for a relationship, but this felt good.
M was a virgin when we met, which gave me flashbacks to A--but at least this time I knew in advance. We waited for a couple months before we took things to that level.
I was M's first serious girlfriend, which made me a little bit wary of the relationship at times. M was loving, and attentive, and smart, and motivated, but I often questioned the long-term potential of our relationship. I could not imagine staying permanently with someone who had had no serious girlfriends besides me. I loved M, but I came to realize that I loved him in a different way than I loved D. I didn't know what that really meant at the time, I just knew that it felt different. It wasn't as consuming as the love I had felt for D.
We spent the summer together, as we both had jobs in the area that our school was in. When senior year started, we had been together for about six months. My friends liked M a lot, and he and I hardly ever fought. Things were stable and smooth. We spent the majority of our time together. We went out to dinner, made meals together, went shopping, watched movies, and even read novels aloud to each other on some nights. We supported each other academically, peer editing one-anothers' papers, and easing each others' stress over undergraduate theses and graduate school applications. On the surface, everything in our relationship was great, and for the most part that was true, but there were problems in the physical arena. M and I didn't have the type of sexual chemistry that I had had with other guys, and I honestly didn't really look forward to doing things with him physically. That fire just wasn't there. But M still treated me better than any guy ever had, so I figured it was a fair trade. I could deal with a vanilla physical connection because everything else was so good. I convinced myself that I loved him enough to make up for the sparks that weren't there.
As the year wore on, and we both applied to graduate schools, he started to worry about what would happen after we graduated. I was worried as well. Long-distance had not worked with A, and I was wary of trying it again, but I cared deeply for M, and I thought that I wanted to try to make it work. I got into this one-year program, and he got into a PhD program in a different region of the country, but since my program was only one year, we figured that I could move to his state after the year was up.
We both visited each other over the summer. When the time came to go to our respective graduate schools, we handled it well. After all, we told ourselves, it was only a temporary separation.
Spending our first significant chunk of time apart since we had met opened my eyes. I realized that as good as M was to me, and as much as I wanted to love him like he loved me, I was really just fooling myself and being unfair to him. I needed the sparks more than I thought I did. I also started to crave independence. I had been with M for about a year and a half, and I was ready to prove to myself that I could handle the stress of my schoolwork and my new city alone. M had supported me all through my senior year of college, and I felt like I had come to rely on him too much.
When I met my new neighbor, I got the final shove I needed to break up with M. I found myself instantly attracted to the guy next door, and it wasn't so much that I wanted to be free to do anything with him, but the fact that I remembered how important real attraction and sparks were to me. I needed butterflies. I missed butterflies. I had never had those with M.
So, M and I broke up. We were both upset, but I knew that it was the right thing to do. I had come to realize that M was not the man I was going to marry, and I felt that he would never leave me if I didn't leave him. He was talking about moving in together and getting engaged after I was done with my graduate program. I was not ready for that with anyone, and I realized that I would never be ready for that with him.
In the end, I think it was the best thing for both of us. He has a new girlfriend now, who he seems very happy with. We ended on pretty good terms, and a couple months ago he sent me a Facebook message to say hi and suggest that we get together the next time I am in his area (which is, incidentally, the area where my parents live). M and I had a good relationship, but, in the end, it just wasn't quite right. When we broke up, my Mom was not surprised. She told me that she knew M wasn't right for me. She said, "He was too vanilla for you. When it comes to ice cream flavors, you tend to prefer chocolate with all kinds of toppings mixed in." Kind of a goofy metaphor, but she is right. He was wonderful, and smart, and caring, and an all-around great guy--but with no sparks, none of that was enough to make me want to be in a relationship with him forever.
Now what remains to be seen is whether or not I will ever find the right mix between excitement and stability.
After T, I spent about six months without any interest in guys. I spent most of my time with my female friends, especially R, and focused on my academics.
In my junior year of college, R and I decided to both sign up for an outing club trip, which was happening over our one-week break from classes in February. We were going to go sea-kayaking several states away with a group of students, and two non-student advisers, who had been hired by the school to run the outing club. Neither of us had done anything like that before, and we were really excited.
About a week before the trip, the group got together to talk about the trip and to get to know each other. That was the first time I met M. I recognized him as someone I had had a class with the previous term. All I knew about him was that he was incredibly smart. We had one mutual friend who I remembered telling me that he was the smartest person she knew when she found out we had a class together (which said a lot, considering the fact that she was one of the smartest people I knew). M didn't say a whole lot during the meeting, but I was curious to talk to him. I didn't have any initial romantic interest in him, but I was interested to get to know him in a friendly way.
When we left for the trip a week later, I sat next to him in the van for the first leg of our ride down to our destination. I talked to him a little bit, but everyone in the van was more interested in sleeping than in conversation. I didn't really get to know him until the trip was well underway.
When we got to our destination, we kayaked five hours away from shore, out to a small island where we were going to camp for the week. I really got to know M on the island, at the campfires the group sat around every night.
Halfway through the week, we switched kayaking partners, and M and I wound up (or decided to--it is still unclear) kayaking together. We talked during the day kayaking trips. At night, we started staying out later than the other campers. Several nights, we were the last two people out at the campfire. We were also assigned to the same camp cooking group, meaning that we cooked and ate all of our meals together.
Things were getting pretty flirtatious between us, but I still didn't feel overly interested in M in a romantic way. He seemed almost... innocent. For some reason, that was kind of a turn-off to me. I liked his intelligence, and his ability to carry on a conversation, but I felt like I needed someone grittier, and more experienced with women. Maybe I felt like my own past made me a better match for someone who had some relationship experience--and some scars. He just struck me as rather inexperienced and undamaged.
One night, when we were the last two sitting around the campfire, M surprised me by kissing me as I was about to head off to my tent. I was taken completely by surprise. I really didn't think that he would have the guts to make a move. I don't remember what I said. I remember staying out on the beach for a few more minutes and then going to bed.
The next day, things were awkward. I think we were both unsure about how to act around each other. Things always seem different in daylight than they do at night. What had seemed relatively benign the night before now felt like a source of awkwardness.
There was not much time left in the trip. I didn't stay out at the campfire the next couple nights, partly because I was exhausted from staying up late every night and kayaking hard every day, and partly because I didn't know if I wanted a repeat of that kiss.
In the long car ride back from the trip, he asked me for my phone number. When we got back, I emailed him just to say hi. I am not sure why. I was still unsure of the situation, but I was also drawn to him. The guts that he had shown in kissing me on the beach partly counteracted my hesitation over his innocence.
We got together for coffee a few days later, and were pretty much together from that point forward. I don't really know if either of us decided to be in a relationship, or if we just kind of fell into it. On my part, I think I felt safe with M. After T, I guess I needed to feel secure. M was supportive, caring, and there for me whenever I needed him. I hadn't exactly decided that I was ready for a relationship, but this felt good.
M was a virgin when we met, which gave me flashbacks to A--but at least this time I knew in advance. We waited for a couple months before we took things to that level.
I was M's first serious girlfriend, which made me a little bit wary of the relationship at times. M was loving, and attentive, and smart, and motivated, but I often questioned the long-term potential of our relationship. I could not imagine staying permanently with someone who had had no serious girlfriends besides me. I loved M, but I came to realize that I loved him in a different way than I loved D. I didn't know what that really meant at the time, I just knew that it felt different. It wasn't as consuming as the love I had felt for D.
We spent the summer together, as we both had jobs in the area that our school was in. When senior year started, we had been together for about six months. My friends liked M a lot, and he and I hardly ever fought. Things were stable and smooth. We spent the majority of our time together. We went out to dinner, made meals together, went shopping, watched movies, and even read novels aloud to each other on some nights. We supported each other academically, peer editing one-anothers' papers, and easing each others' stress over undergraduate theses and graduate school applications. On the surface, everything in our relationship was great, and for the most part that was true, but there were problems in the physical arena. M and I didn't have the type of sexual chemistry that I had had with other guys, and I honestly didn't really look forward to doing things with him physically. That fire just wasn't there. But M still treated me better than any guy ever had, so I figured it was a fair trade. I could deal with a vanilla physical connection because everything else was so good. I convinced myself that I loved him enough to make up for the sparks that weren't there.
As the year wore on, and we both applied to graduate schools, he started to worry about what would happen after we graduated. I was worried as well. Long-distance had not worked with A, and I was wary of trying it again, but I cared deeply for M, and I thought that I wanted to try to make it work. I got into this one-year program, and he got into a PhD program in a different region of the country, but since my program was only one year, we figured that I could move to his state after the year was up.
We both visited each other over the summer. When the time came to go to our respective graduate schools, we handled it well. After all, we told ourselves, it was only a temporary separation.
Spending our first significant chunk of time apart since we had met opened my eyes. I realized that as good as M was to me, and as much as I wanted to love him like he loved me, I was really just fooling myself and being unfair to him. I needed the sparks more than I thought I did. I also started to crave independence. I had been with M for about a year and a half, and I was ready to prove to myself that I could handle the stress of my schoolwork and my new city alone. M had supported me all through my senior year of college, and I felt like I had come to rely on him too much.
When I met my new neighbor, I got the final shove I needed to break up with M. I found myself instantly attracted to the guy next door, and it wasn't so much that I wanted to be free to do anything with him, but the fact that I remembered how important real attraction and sparks were to me. I needed butterflies. I missed butterflies. I had never had those with M.
So, M and I broke up. We were both upset, but I knew that it was the right thing to do. I had come to realize that M was not the man I was going to marry, and I felt that he would never leave me if I didn't leave him. He was talking about moving in together and getting engaged after I was done with my graduate program. I was not ready for that with anyone, and I realized that I would never be ready for that with him.
In the end, I think it was the best thing for both of us. He has a new girlfriend now, who he seems very happy with. We ended on pretty good terms, and a couple months ago he sent me a Facebook message to say hi and suggest that we get together the next time I am in his area (which is, incidentally, the area where my parents live). M and I had a good relationship, but, in the end, it just wasn't quite right. When we broke up, my Mom was not surprised. She told me that she knew M wasn't right for me. She said, "He was too vanilla for you. When it comes to ice cream flavors, you tend to prefer chocolate with all kinds of toppings mixed in." Kind of a goofy metaphor, but she is right. He was wonderful, and smart, and caring, and an all-around great guy--but with no sparks, none of that was enough to make me want to be in a relationship with him forever.
Now what remains to be seen is whether or not I will ever find the right mix between excitement and stability.
Down Down Down
Things are not going my way these last couple days. On Saturday, my Dad finally forced me to give him a move-out date. He will be here on the 26th or 27th, and I will be leaving for good on the 29th. As soon as I hung up the phone I started crying. I could hardly hold it in while I was on the phone. Unfortunately, HE was in my apartment when my Dad called. I tried to hide the fact that I was crying, by busying myself with dishes and anything else loud and out of his immediate line of vision, but he had heard the gist of the phone call, and wanted to know what date I had picked. He refused to let me cry alone and made me lay down on the bed with him.
I feel miserable. Now the days are really ticking down. Now I know exactly how much (or how little) time we have left. Fifteen days until my Dad gets here--which will effectively end my time with HIM. Two weeks. That is all I have left.
We have spent the last few days watching the Olympics. I have always enjoyed watching them, and this is the first time I can remember really having the time to sit down and watch them uninterrupted. I have also been sleeping late. Today, he went into work. His boss is back from her father's funeral, and was ready to come back to work. He left at 10:30. I decided to drag myself out of bed shortly after. As soon as I checked my email, I wished I had stayed in bed.
My thesis adviser emailed my thesis back to me, asking me to do more revisions before Wednesday evening. I was afraid that might happen. I was hoping I was done, but considering the fact that my adviser is an expert on my topic, I am not surprised. Now I have to spend all day today, tomorrow, and Wednesday working on something that I can barely stand to look at anymore. That ends my leisurely Olympic-watching schedule, and more importantly, it means three less days that I can spend with him.
No news on the job-front. Right now, my plans are to go back home with my parents, at least for a week or two. It is really the last thing that I want to do. When I talked to my Dad, he said, "It is your life now. I am just here to help you do whatever you choose today." Basically, he was talking about the fact that it was completely up to me if I wanted to stay at home for awhile, or move somewhere random and try to find a job. The freedom sounds nice in theory, but I actually have less choices than it seems like I have. My mind is completely clouded with HIM. I want so badly to go wherever he goes. I want to enjoy these next two weeks, but a big part of me dreads the passage of each day. A part of me almost wants to get the pain of separation over with. I feel like I am pulling a giant band aid off as slowly as possible, when it might be easier to just give it one good rip.
Basically, for these next two weeks I am just stuck in limbo. I can't do anything to stop time from passing, but I also can't fully enjoy the time we have left knowing that the end is so near. I think one of the biggest looming fears is finding out in the months after we leave each other behind that he has moved on to someone new. Why is that always one of the hardest parts about a separation? I guess I shouldn't worry about something that hasn't happened yet. My emotions are just all out of whack. I am angry, I am sad, I am deflated, I am disappointed, I am frantic, I am depressed... I am just in pieces. I feel broken.
And now I have to go work on something that I really couldn't care less about. I have to tackle these thesis revisions, when all I want to do is cry, and sleep, and spend time with him when he gets out of work. I need to find a way to concentrate on this damn paper for the next few days. After that, I will have to worry about starting to pack, since my Dad expects me to have most of it done when he gets here. I don't feel like I can function. I need to learn how to be stronger.
I feel miserable. Now the days are really ticking down. Now I know exactly how much (or how little) time we have left. Fifteen days until my Dad gets here--which will effectively end my time with HIM. Two weeks. That is all I have left.
We have spent the last few days watching the Olympics. I have always enjoyed watching them, and this is the first time I can remember really having the time to sit down and watch them uninterrupted. I have also been sleeping late. Today, he went into work. His boss is back from her father's funeral, and was ready to come back to work. He left at 10:30. I decided to drag myself out of bed shortly after. As soon as I checked my email, I wished I had stayed in bed.
My thesis adviser emailed my thesis back to me, asking me to do more revisions before Wednesday evening. I was afraid that might happen. I was hoping I was done, but considering the fact that my adviser is an expert on my topic, I am not surprised. Now I have to spend all day today, tomorrow, and Wednesday working on something that I can barely stand to look at anymore. That ends my leisurely Olympic-watching schedule, and more importantly, it means three less days that I can spend with him.
No news on the job-front. Right now, my plans are to go back home with my parents, at least for a week or two. It is really the last thing that I want to do. When I talked to my Dad, he said, "It is your life now. I am just here to help you do whatever you choose today." Basically, he was talking about the fact that it was completely up to me if I wanted to stay at home for awhile, or move somewhere random and try to find a job. The freedom sounds nice in theory, but I actually have less choices than it seems like I have. My mind is completely clouded with HIM. I want so badly to go wherever he goes. I want to enjoy these next two weeks, but a big part of me dreads the passage of each day. A part of me almost wants to get the pain of separation over with. I feel like I am pulling a giant band aid off as slowly as possible, when it might be easier to just give it one good rip.
Basically, for these next two weeks I am just stuck in limbo. I can't do anything to stop time from passing, but I also can't fully enjoy the time we have left knowing that the end is so near. I think one of the biggest looming fears is finding out in the months after we leave each other behind that he has moved on to someone new. Why is that always one of the hardest parts about a separation? I guess I shouldn't worry about something that hasn't happened yet. My emotions are just all out of whack. I am angry, I am sad, I am deflated, I am disappointed, I am frantic, I am depressed... I am just in pieces. I feel broken.
And now I have to go work on something that I really couldn't care less about. I have to tackle these thesis revisions, when all I want to do is cry, and sleep, and spend time with him when he gets out of work. I need to find a way to concentrate on this damn paper for the next few days. After that, I will have to worry about starting to pack, since my Dad expects me to have most of it done when he gets here. I don't feel like I can function. I need to learn how to be stronger.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Time Is Not On My Side
I can't believe it is already August 9. Where has the time gone? My parents need to know this weekend when I want to move out, when of course the truth is that I DON'T want to move out. I think he is staying right up to the end of the month because he has decided to walk at graduation. I don't really enjoy graduation ceremonies and chose not to walk. So, I guess I will tell my parents to come at the last possible moment. I can't give up a single day with him. Even now, I feel the time just slipping away. Every time I hug him or hold on to him I think about how it will feel when I can't do that anymore. I try to memorize the way it feels. Those are moments I will never get back.
I suppose I am being a little overly dramatic. But I am just explaining it how I feel it. Even now, glancing over at my bed where he is still asleep--I know it is going to hurt when some time in September or October or any time after I leave here, I glance over to my bed expecting to see him and just see empty space. How will I fill the void that losing him will leave in my life? How will I do anything now without thinking of him--after all, we do almost EVERYTHING together these days.
I know he is worried too. We have so much unspoken fear and sadness bouncing around in the room whenever we are together. Last night he let a little of it out and said, "I'm afraid of losing you." I didn't know what to say. That is something that people say when they are in a relationship that the are afraid might end. But we KNOW this is going to end. I can't say, "You won't lose me," because, inevitably, he will.
Things with this job in my college town are moving forward slowly. It might still happen. I almost WANT it to fall through though. I don't know why, but I feel like this job would be the end for me and him. Of course, that is ridiculous, since we are going to end whether or not I get this job. I think a part of me still holds on to the idea of going with him wherever he goes. I would still do that. The craziest part of that would be the fact that my parents have no idea that he and I are in a pseudo-relationship. I didn't know how to explain it to them, so I just always insist that he is just my best friend here who happens to be male. Can you imagine how confused they would be if I said I wanted to follow him across the country? I think deep down they know there is more to his and my relationship than "just friends," but they would still be surprised, and probably a little judgmental. But here I go again with a hypothetical situation that will never come to pass. It is so unhealthy that I let myself think about these possibilities.
Last night, we went to the baseball game. I think we are going to keep doing things like that as long as we can--more museums, more shows, sporting events, touristy things. I guess part of it is that we want to get as much out of this city as we can before we have to leave it. I think another part of it is that we want to create memories with each other while we still can. Cheesy, right? I guess we are just trying to make the most of the little time we have left. I keep thinking about a line from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Toward the end, when Joel and Clementine realize that they can't run from the erasers anymore, and they are reliving the last memory left--the first time they met. Clementine says, "This is it Joel. It's going to be gone soon. What do we do?" And he answers, "Enjoy it." I know it is probably the most over-referenced movie of the decade--but I think that is because it is so easy to relate to. And right now, I relate to that line.
I am so sick of complaining about this. I know my life could be 10 billion times worse. I know I could have worse things to write about. I feel SO guilty for constantly complaining about this when I should just be grateful for all of the good things in my life. But it is so much harder than I could have imagined to end a relationship because of circumstance. I have never gone through a breakup for only practical reasons. There was always also some anger, or dulling of emotions, or relationship-ending fight. This just doesn't feel right. It feels like amputating a perfectly good limb for no reason, or something like that. I feel like we are making a mockery out of love almost. Like we are doing some injustice to everyone out there who wants to feel these kinds of emotions for someone, but can't find that person. I have found him, and I am just going to watch him walk away. Do I have a choice? Did I fight hard enough? What do I do? I feel lost. I feel alone. It would take me so long to explain this whole situation to anyone. I never get to talk to R anymore. I don't currently have a close female friend. That is what I want. That is what I need. I need someone to listen to this situation, to understand it, and to offer me advice. But how could I explain this to anyone? It is all wrapped up in emotion and abstract things like that. I guess I can't. Maybe it is best that I'm not burdening someone else with this. I know that hearing about it would have grown old months ago.
Oh well. I guess it was good to get that out. Now I need to try to enjoy the day. I hope my parents don't call me about my move-out date until tomorrow.
I suppose I am being a little overly dramatic. But I am just explaining it how I feel it. Even now, glancing over at my bed where he is still asleep--I know it is going to hurt when some time in September or October or any time after I leave here, I glance over to my bed expecting to see him and just see empty space. How will I fill the void that losing him will leave in my life? How will I do anything now without thinking of him--after all, we do almost EVERYTHING together these days.
I know he is worried too. We have so much unspoken fear and sadness bouncing around in the room whenever we are together. Last night he let a little of it out and said, "I'm afraid of losing you." I didn't know what to say. That is something that people say when they are in a relationship that the are afraid might end. But we KNOW this is going to end. I can't say, "You won't lose me," because, inevitably, he will.
Things with this job in my college town are moving forward slowly. It might still happen. I almost WANT it to fall through though. I don't know why, but I feel like this job would be the end for me and him. Of course, that is ridiculous, since we are going to end whether or not I get this job. I think a part of me still holds on to the idea of going with him wherever he goes. I would still do that. The craziest part of that would be the fact that my parents have no idea that he and I are in a pseudo-relationship. I didn't know how to explain it to them, so I just always insist that he is just my best friend here who happens to be male. Can you imagine how confused they would be if I said I wanted to follow him across the country? I think deep down they know there is more to his and my relationship than "just friends," but they would still be surprised, and probably a little judgmental. But here I go again with a hypothetical situation that will never come to pass. It is so unhealthy that I let myself think about these possibilities.
Last night, we went to the baseball game. I think we are going to keep doing things like that as long as we can--more museums, more shows, sporting events, touristy things. I guess part of it is that we want to get as much out of this city as we can before we have to leave it. I think another part of it is that we want to create memories with each other while we still can. Cheesy, right? I guess we are just trying to make the most of the little time we have left. I keep thinking about a line from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Toward the end, when Joel and Clementine realize that they can't run from the erasers anymore, and they are reliving the last memory left--the first time they met. Clementine says, "This is it Joel. It's going to be gone soon. What do we do?" And he answers, "Enjoy it." I know it is probably the most over-referenced movie of the decade--but I think that is because it is so easy to relate to. And right now, I relate to that line.
I am so sick of complaining about this. I know my life could be 10 billion times worse. I know I could have worse things to write about. I feel SO guilty for constantly complaining about this when I should just be grateful for all of the good things in my life. But it is so much harder than I could have imagined to end a relationship because of circumstance. I have never gone through a breakup for only practical reasons. There was always also some anger, or dulling of emotions, or relationship-ending fight. This just doesn't feel right. It feels like amputating a perfectly good limb for no reason, or something like that. I feel like we are making a mockery out of love almost. Like we are doing some injustice to everyone out there who wants to feel these kinds of emotions for someone, but can't find that person. I have found him, and I am just going to watch him walk away. Do I have a choice? Did I fight hard enough? What do I do? I feel lost. I feel alone. It would take me so long to explain this whole situation to anyone. I never get to talk to R anymore. I don't currently have a close female friend. That is what I want. That is what I need. I need someone to listen to this situation, to understand it, and to offer me advice. But how could I explain this to anyone? It is all wrapped up in emotion and abstract things like that. I guess I can't. Maybe it is best that I'm not burdening someone else with this. I know that hearing about it would have grown old months ago.
Oh well. I guess it was good to get that out. Now I need to try to enjoy the day. I hope my parents don't call me about my move-out date until tomorrow.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Well...
Things keep bouncing up and down. The job search is stressing me out. My supervisor and her supervisor are battling it out on whether or not she will be allowed to hire me. I feel like I am in the middle of a war. It is a really tense situation in that office. Is that really the kind of environment I want to work in? So, in any case, that job possibility has hit a snag. I need to look for more jobs to apply for. I still haven't heard back from most of the places I applied.
Yesterday, he and I went to the aquarium. We got up early and headed downtown. The only problem was the fact that he had only managed to get about two hours of sleep. I think knowing that we were waking up early kept him from falling asleep. Isn't that the way it always works? So we spent about 3 hours at the aquarium. When we got out, it was still only early afternoon, and I wanted to stay downtown and take advantage of the beautiful weather. There is so much that we haven't done in this city yet. He just was not having it... he was too tired... his feet were sore... he didn't want to spend money. I came up with several things we could do that would involve almost no walking and almost no money, but he was exhausted. I was pretty cranky, mainly because I was hungry. That never brings out the best in me. Besides, we had had a deal, which he had broke--I bought the aquarium tickets (around $60 for the two of us), and he promised to buy us lunch. Well, when I wanted to go to the aquarium food court (which I know would have been overpriced, but it was really the only place to get food anywhere near the aquarium), he said no. Too expensive. Seriously?! I spent $60 on these tickets and you can't buy me $7.00 chicken fingers?! So we went home--him apologizing the whole way about tiring out and promising to make it up to me, and me trying to contain my crankiness.
We bought food at the grocery store and came home. I was fuming silently on my bed and waiting for the food to come out of the oven, while he sat at my computer and tried not to say anything to piss me off more. Well, he improved my mood through bribery. He asked if I wanted to go see a show (like a musical). I was not overly excited about the idea. I like seeing shows, but it is just not really at the top of my list. Then he brought up going to a baseball game. Now he had me interested. We looked online and it turned out that my home team was going to be in this city this weekend to play the team here. We found tickets for tomorrow's game and he bought them. We ate, and I felt much less cranky. So, tomorrow night we go to the game. Exciting. I have never seen my team in another team's ballpark. I have only seen them in their home field.
I called my parents to tell them about the game (they are big fans of our home team) and they said that I need to decide this weekend when I want to move out. That is such a difficult thing to do. I don't know what I am going to do yet. I think I will avoid thinking about it today. I am going to try to stay in a good mood today.
All in all, I guess everything is fine for now, except for the normal problems. I am trying to stay as positive as I can. Some days it works, some days it doesn't. I might do some job searching today, but mainly, I am just going to try to relax and enjoy my time with him while I still can.
Yesterday, he and I went to the aquarium. We got up early and headed downtown. The only problem was the fact that he had only managed to get about two hours of sleep. I think knowing that we were waking up early kept him from falling asleep. Isn't that the way it always works? So we spent about 3 hours at the aquarium. When we got out, it was still only early afternoon, and I wanted to stay downtown and take advantage of the beautiful weather. There is so much that we haven't done in this city yet. He just was not having it... he was too tired... his feet were sore... he didn't want to spend money. I came up with several things we could do that would involve almost no walking and almost no money, but he was exhausted. I was pretty cranky, mainly because I was hungry. That never brings out the best in me. Besides, we had had a deal, which he had broke--I bought the aquarium tickets (around $60 for the two of us), and he promised to buy us lunch. Well, when I wanted to go to the aquarium food court (which I know would have been overpriced, but it was really the only place to get food anywhere near the aquarium), he said no. Too expensive. Seriously?! I spent $60 on these tickets and you can't buy me $7.00 chicken fingers?! So we went home--him apologizing the whole way about tiring out and promising to make it up to me, and me trying to contain my crankiness.
We bought food at the grocery store and came home. I was fuming silently on my bed and waiting for the food to come out of the oven, while he sat at my computer and tried not to say anything to piss me off more. Well, he improved my mood through bribery. He asked if I wanted to go see a show (like a musical). I was not overly excited about the idea. I like seeing shows, but it is just not really at the top of my list. Then he brought up going to a baseball game. Now he had me interested. We looked online and it turned out that my home team was going to be in this city this weekend to play the team here. We found tickets for tomorrow's game and he bought them. We ate, and I felt much less cranky. So, tomorrow night we go to the game. Exciting. I have never seen my team in another team's ballpark. I have only seen them in their home field.
I called my parents to tell them about the game (they are big fans of our home team) and they said that I need to decide this weekend when I want to move out. That is such a difficult thing to do. I don't know what I am going to do yet. I think I will avoid thinking about it today. I am going to try to stay in a good mood today.
All in all, I guess everything is fine for now, except for the normal problems. I am trying to stay as positive as I can. Some days it works, some days it doesn't. I might do some job searching today, but mainly, I am just going to try to relax and enjoy my time with him while I still can.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Sinking
I just went to turn in my last rent check, and I almost started crying on the way to the real estate office.
This job in my little rural college town looks like it is going to work out. It is a fantastic job, but I am so afraid to be back in that town. It would be okay this year and next year while R is still there, but after that, I won't have anyone. No one stays in that town after graduation (from college, law school, or the military academy next door). The longest anyone really stays there is four years. I don't know how long I will be there if I get this job.
But it is not the job that almost made me cry. It was him. My heart is so heavy. Now that my thesis is done, I can REALLY see how little time him and I have left. Every morning when I wake up, I can't help but think that another day is gone and we are that much closer to the end. It hurts.
It is not like the pain of a loved one dying. Of course not. That pain is all-consuming, suffocating, and inescapable. When I think about that kind of pain, I know that I could be worse off. I should be grateful that this is the worst thing going on in my life. I should be grateful that it is not THAT kind of pain. This is a pain that I can live with. This is a pain that I DO live with. It doesn't stop me from eating, sleeping, laughing, or meeting deadlines. But it is always there.
I have had to leave people behind before. When I left for college, when I graduated college and came here... I left people that were important to me behind every time. The difference for me, is that this is the first time that I feel like I really have the option of NOT leaving someone behind. When I went to college, I knew that I had to go. I knew that I was too young to make decisions based on a guy (D at that point). When I graduated college, I knew that I had to come here because it would help me in the future, and I knew that I had to leave M behind because I didn't really love him. This time, I feel like it is strictly voluntary. I have graduated college, and now I have finished all my work for a Master's degree. The next obvious step is to get a job in the field that I have been studying for the past five years. But I don't HAVE to. I am finally old enough and independent enough to decide that something else is more important than the logical next step. I could give up the job for HIM.
Of course, the big obstacle to that is the fact that he won't let me. I can understand why. For one thing, the type of work I am looking for is hard to come by. It is not like I could just move wherever he goes and expect to find a job in my field. I wouldn't be able to. I would have to get some random job that has nothing to do with my education. I think he is partly afraid that if he let me do that it would either lead to resentment down the road, or, if things didn't work out between us, he would feel like he had ruined my life (or let me ruin my own life).
It is just so hard to stare the end of this in the face and realize that it doesn't HAVE to be the end. That we are both old enough to decide to make this work if we wanted to. We are not teenagers. He is 25 and I am 23. We are adults, and we have complete control over our futures.
Every day I feel this rolling pain in my gut. I think about the last night we will sleep in the same bed, the last movie we will watch together, the last time we will eat a meal together, the last time I will hold his hand. I think about the date on the calendar and how, no matter what, we will both be out of these apartments before August 31. Almost definitely sooner. I can't stand to sit here and watch it all slip away. I wish I could fight it.
I am not afraid of being alone. I don't believe in soul mates--or at least not in the concept of only ONE perfect person for everyone. I have loved before, and I will love again. That is not the problem. The problem is that right now I love HIM, and I cannot stand the idea of voluntarily giving that up for a JOB. At the end of my life, I am not going to sit on my death bed and think about all of the days I spent at work, or in classes--I know that what will matter will be the people, the love, the moments between work. That is what will matter most to me, and that is what matters most to me now. The other night, he turned to me and said, "I think that maybe heaven is just reliving every great moment in your life over and over again." So far, none of my great moments have had to do with work or school. They have had to do with times with friends, family, and loved ones.
I am sick of doing what is rational. I am sick of being responsible. I am sick of sticking to a planned course. I don't want that. If it was just my choice, I would give up the jobs for him. But, since it is his choice too, I really have no choice. I wish I could be angry at him for it. But I can't.
I just don't know what to do. I am trying so hard to enjoy every moment, but it feels so tainted by the fear, the dread, and the inevitability of loss.
I just need to be strong. I am lucky to have met him. I am lucky to be alive and well. I am lucky for everything that I have had the opportunity to do in my life. I am lucky for the people I have known. I am lucky to have a loving and supportive family. I am lucky that I am not grieving something worse than this. I am lucky to have been in love--twice. Sometimes it is just so hard to remember all the reasons I am lucky. I guess sometimes I just need to let all the negative things out to get back to the positive.
This job in my little rural college town looks like it is going to work out. It is a fantastic job, but I am so afraid to be back in that town. It would be okay this year and next year while R is still there, but after that, I won't have anyone. No one stays in that town after graduation (from college, law school, or the military academy next door). The longest anyone really stays there is four years. I don't know how long I will be there if I get this job.
But it is not the job that almost made me cry. It was him. My heart is so heavy. Now that my thesis is done, I can REALLY see how little time him and I have left. Every morning when I wake up, I can't help but think that another day is gone and we are that much closer to the end. It hurts.
It is not like the pain of a loved one dying. Of course not. That pain is all-consuming, suffocating, and inescapable. When I think about that kind of pain, I know that I could be worse off. I should be grateful that this is the worst thing going on in my life. I should be grateful that it is not THAT kind of pain. This is a pain that I can live with. This is a pain that I DO live with. It doesn't stop me from eating, sleeping, laughing, or meeting deadlines. But it is always there.
I have had to leave people behind before. When I left for college, when I graduated college and came here... I left people that were important to me behind every time. The difference for me, is that this is the first time that I feel like I really have the option of NOT leaving someone behind. When I went to college, I knew that I had to go. I knew that I was too young to make decisions based on a guy (D at that point). When I graduated college, I knew that I had to come here because it would help me in the future, and I knew that I had to leave M behind because I didn't really love him. This time, I feel like it is strictly voluntary. I have graduated college, and now I have finished all my work for a Master's degree. The next obvious step is to get a job in the field that I have been studying for the past five years. But I don't HAVE to. I am finally old enough and independent enough to decide that something else is more important than the logical next step. I could give up the job for HIM.
Of course, the big obstacle to that is the fact that he won't let me. I can understand why. For one thing, the type of work I am looking for is hard to come by. It is not like I could just move wherever he goes and expect to find a job in my field. I wouldn't be able to. I would have to get some random job that has nothing to do with my education. I think he is partly afraid that if he let me do that it would either lead to resentment down the road, or, if things didn't work out between us, he would feel like he had ruined my life (or let me ruin my own life).
It is just so hard to stare the end of this in the face and realize that it doesn't HAVE to be the end. That we are both old enough to decide to make this work if we wanted to. We are not teenagers. He is 25 and I am 23. We are adults, and we have complete control over our futures.
Every day I feel this rolling pain in my gut. I think about the last night we will sleep in the same bed, the last movie we will watch together, the last time we will eat a meal together, the last time I will hold his hand. I think about the date on the calendar and how, no matter what, we will both be out of these apartments before August 31. Almost definitely sooner. I can't stand to sit here and watch it all slip away. I wish I could fight it.
I am not afraid of being alone. I don't believe in soul mates--or at least not in the concept of only ONE perfect person for everyone. I have loved before, and I will love again. That is not the problem. The problem is that right now I love HIM, and I cannot stand the idea of voluntarily giving that up for a JOB. At the end of my life, I am not going to sit on my death bed and think about all of the days I spent at work, or in classes--I know that what will matter will be the people, the love, the moments between work. That is what will matter most to me, and that is what matters most to me now. The other night, he turned to me and said, "I think that maybe heaven is just reliving every great moment in your life over and over again." So far, none of my great moments have had to do with work or school. They have had to do with times with friends, family, and loved ones.
I am sick of doing what is rational. I am sick of being responsible. I am sick of sticking to a planned course. I don't want that. If it was just my choice, I would give up the jobs for him. But, since it is his choice too, I really have no choice. I wish I could be angry at him for it. But I can't.
I just don't know what to do. I am trying so hard to enjoy every moment, but it feels so tainted by the fear, the dread, and the inevitability of loss.
I just need to be strong. I am lucky to have met him. I am lucky to be alive and well. I am lucky for everything that I have had the opportunity to do in my life. I am lucky for the people I have known. I am lucky to have a loving and supportive family. I am lucky that I am not grieving something worse than this. I am lucky to have been in love--twice. Sometimes it is just so hard to remember all the reasons I am lucky. I guess sometimes I just need to let all the negative things out to get back to the positive.
Brushes With The Paranormal
Last night, he and I were watching a show that he really enjoys--Paranormal State. I personally think that it would be too easy for the TV crew to fake everything that they discover, so the show doesn't creep me out at all. It did, however, get us talking about our own brushes with the paranormal.
Now, I grew up in a house where we haven't gone to church since I was maybe six. My Dad was raised Catholic, but is pretty much an atheist (you die, you rot--no ghosts in his opinion). My Mom believes in a higher power, and ghosts, but doesn't necessarily fit her beliefs into an organized religion. My brother went more into my Mom's camp, and I drifted into my Dad's. I have since grown into a more moderate agnostic (or as one of my college professors liked to say: "secular humanist"). My family (Mom, Dad, brother, and me) have had a total of 3 brushes with the supernatural--one that my Mom and Dad had together (which my Dad still refuses to talk about), and two that I had. All of them could be pretty well explained by natural causes or by "coincidence," but I will let you decide for yourself:
1.
When I was very young (5 and under) my Mom's great uncle (my great great uncle) lived with us. We all just called him Uncle. I don't really know why. Anyways, Uncle didn't speak a lick of English (my Mom said he just pretended not to), so my Mom was the only one who could talk to him, but he always found ways to show us all his affection. My brother and I would always get candy and silver dollars from him. For my parents, he bought a dust buster. I am not really sure why, but it was a useful little machine, so it wasn't a bad gift. When I was 6 or 7, Uncle died of natural causes (he was in his 90's).
About a year later, we lived in a new house. One night, we were all sleeping upstairs. My brother and I slept through the whole incident, but this is how it happened as my Mom tells it: My parents were asleep in bed when they both woke up to a strange noise. My Mom turned to my Dad, and they both agreed that they heard the dust buster going downstairs. My Mom checked on my brother and I, assuming that one of us had just crept downstairs for a drink or snack, had spilled something, and were dust busting it. We were both in bed. The noise had stopped, so my Mom went back to bed. About two minutes later, my parents awoke to the same sound, which they agreed, once again, was definitely the dust buster. Now they were becoming worried that someone was in the house, and confused as to what kind of burglar would decide to use a dust buster in the middle of a robbery. They crept downstairs together and headed for the kitchen where we kept the dust buster. When they got in there, the dust buster was sitting in its stand, unmoved. When they glanced around the kitchen, they saw the the kitchen ceiling was sagging in the middle and was wet. They called the water company, and someone came out immediately. It turned out that a pipe had burst in the middle of the night, and if my parents had not noticed it that night, our upstairs bathroom would have ended up in our kitchen. The plumber got there just in time to release the pressure in the ceiling. We had very little actual damage--just water stains and some rotted wood that had to be replaced/painted.
To this day, my Mom is convinced that it was Uncle warning them. My Dad, for some reason, refuses to talk about that night, although he does agree that it was definitely the dust buster that they heard. He assumes that water somehow dripped onto the dust buster an made it turn on. Who knows?
2.
All of my personal supernatural experiences have been dreams, which are, of course, much easier to explain away than waking experiences. So, take them how you will.
One night, when I was maybe 12, I had a dream that I was at my Grandmother's house. No one was there, so I went out into her big backyard to look around. That was when I saw Uncle. He was standing and holding fishing gear. He gestured for me to follow him. Uncle led me to a beautiful lake. There was a dock, with a little rowboat tied to it, and out in the middle of the lake was an island covered with big pine trees. Uncle and I sat down on the dock next to each other and fished. We just sat there and fished. Never exchanged a word.
I thought it was a sweet dream, so I told my Mom about it when I woke up. She looked at me like I had six heads. She told me that her and Uncle used to go fishing together at a lake just like the one I described--row boat on the dock, island with big pine trees--everything.
So, that was a little strange, but could easily be coincidence. My next dream, however, I still can't explain.
3.
It was my sophomore year of high school. One night, I had an odd dream. In my dream, I was standing in the hallway of my high school, which was completely empty except for one open locker in the distance. I started walking toward the locker. When I was halfway there, the locker closed, and this girl from my grade, M, walked in my direction. As we passed each other, she smiled. Then I woke up.
I immediately thought it was a very odd dream. I had a tendency to dream about people I was friends with. M and I hardly knew each other. She seemed nice enough, but we weren't friends. She was just another girl in my grade.
At breakfast that morning, I told my brother about my dream. He agreed that it was a little odd, but it was a pretty uneventful dream, so there wasn't much to say beyond that.
When I got to school that day, I learned that M had killed herself the night before. I was horrified. I felt very bad for her family and friends, but also very shaken about my dream. When I got home that day, my brother looked as freaked out as I did. I felt... guilty. Like I had done something wrong by having that dream. Like I had had no right to have that dream--after all, M and I weren't even friends. I never told anyone, aside from a few close friends over the years. I felt that it would have been disrespectful to her friends and family to mention it. I doubt they would have believed me anyways.
That is the only one of the three stories that I really cannot explain--except by maybe chalking it up to coincidence. It could have been coincidence. A strange coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless.
So, my family's brushes with the paranormal have not been terribly exciting. I have never seen a ghost. All I have are stories of slightly odd dreams and a renegade dust buster. But, because of those three stories, my mind remains open to possibilities that I would probably otherwise just brush off. So, I guess I remain undecided. I believe there are things that we cannot explain, but I just don't know if the explanation behind them would be scientific or supernatural if we could get to it. I think I like the fact that there are things that I can't quite reason away. It makes the world seem bigger.
Now, I grew up in a house where we haven't gone to church since I was maybe six. My Dad was raised Catholic, but is pretty much an atheist (you die, you rot--no ghosts in his opinion). My Mom believes in a higher power, and ghosts, but doesn't necessarily fit her beliefs into an organized religion. My brother went more into my Mom's camp, and I drifted into my Dad's. I have since grown into a more moderate agnostic (or as one of my college professors liked to say: "secular humanist"). My family (Mom, Dad, brother, and me) have had a total of 3 brushes with the supernatural--one that my Mom and Dad had together (which my Dad still refuses to talk about), and two that I had. All of them could be pretty well explained by natural causes or by "coincidence," but I will let you decide for yourself:
1.
When I was very young (5 and under) my Mom's great uncle (my great great uncle) lived with us. We all just called him Uncle. I don't really know why. Anyways, Uncle didn't speak a lick of English (my Mom said he just pretended not to), so my Mom was the only one who could talk to him, but he always found ways to show us all his affection. My brother and I would always get candy and silver dollars from him. For my parents, he bought a dust buster. I am not really sure why, but it was a useful little machine, so it wasn't a bad gift. When I was 6 or 7, Uncle died of natural causes (he was in his 90's).
About a year later, we lived in a new house. One night, we were all sleeping upstairs. My brother and I slept through the whole incident, but this is how it happened as my Mom tells it: My parents were asleep in bed when they both woke up to a strange noise. My Mom turned to my Dad, and they both agreed that they heard the dust buster going downstairs. My Mom checked on my brother and I, assuming that one of us had just crept downstairs for a drink or snack, had spilled something, and were dust busting it. We were both in bed. The noise had stopped, so my Mom went back to bed. About two minutes later, my parents awoke to the same sound, which they agreed, once again, was definitely the dust buster. Now they were becoming worried that someone was in the house, and confused as to what kind of burglar would decide to use a dust buster in the middle of a robbery. They crept downstairs together and headed for the kitchen where we kept the dust buster. When they got in there, the dust buster was sitting in its stand, unmoved. When they glanced around the kitchen, they saw the the kitchen ceiling was sagging in the middle and was wet. They called the water company, and someone came out immediately. It turned out that a pipe had burst in the middle of the night, and if my parents had not noticed it that night, our upstairs bathroom would have ended up in our kitchen. The plumber got there just in time to release the pressure in the ceiling. We had very little actual damage--just water stains and some rotted wood that had to be replaced/painted.
To this day, my Mom is convinced that it was Uncle warning them. My Dad, for some reason, refuses to talk about that night, although he does agree that it was definitely the dust buster that they heard. He assumes that water somehow dripped onto the dust buster an made it turn on. Who knows?
2.
All of my personal supernatural experiences have been dreams, which are, of course, much easier to explain away than waking experiences. So, take them how you will.
One night, when I was maybe 12, I had a dream that I was at my Grandmother's house. No one was there, so I went out into her big backyard to look around. That was when I saw Uncle. He was standing and holding fishing gear. He gestured for me to follow him. Uncle led me to a beautiful lake. There was a dock, with a little rowboat tied to it, and out in the middle of the lake was an island covered with big pine trees. Uncle and I sat down on the dock next to each other and fished. We just sat there and fished. Never exchanged a word.
I thought it was a sweet dream, so I told my Mom about it when I woke up. She looked at me like I had six heads. She told me that her and Uncle used to go fishing together at a lake just like the one I described--row boat on the dock, island with big pine trees--everything.
So, that was a little strange, but could easily be coincidence. My next dream, however, I still can't explain.
3.
It was my sophomore year of high school. One night, I had an odd dream. In my dream, I was standing in the hallway of my high school, which was completely empty except for one open locker in the distance. I started walking toward the locker. When I was halfway there, the locker closed, and this girl from my grade, M, walked in my direction. As we passed each other, she smiled. Then I woke up.
I immediately thought it was a very odd dream. I had a tendency to dream about people I was friends with. M and I hardly knew each other. She seemed nice enough, but we weren't friends. She was just another girl in my grade.
At breakfast that morning, I told my brother about my dream. He agreed that it was a little odd, but it was a pretty uneventful dream, so there wasn't much to say beyond that.
When I got to school that day, I learned that M had killed herself the night before. I was horrified. I felt very bad for her family and friends, but also very shaken about my dream. When I got home that day, my brother looked as freaked out as I did. I felt... guilty. Like I had done something wrong by having that dream. Like I had had no right to have that dream--after all, M and I weren't even friends. I never told anyone, aside from a few close friends over the years. I felt that it would have been disrespectful to her friends and family to mention it. I doubt they would have believed me anyways.
That is the only one of the three stories that I really cannot explain--except by maybe chalking it up to coincidence. It could have been coincidence. A strange coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless.
So, my family's brushes with the paranormal have not been terribly exciting. I have never seen a ghost. All I have are stories of slightly odd dreams and a renegade dust buster. But, because of those three stories, my mind remains open to possibilities that I would probably otherwise just brush off. So, I guess I remain undecided. I believe there are things that we cannot explain, but I just don't know if the explanation behind them would be scientific or supernatural if we could get to it. I think I like the fact that there are things that I can't quite reason away. It makes the world seem bigger.
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