Feeling down

The past few days I have been really sad. There’s a few reasons for that.

First Reason: I keep remembering that a year ago this month I started dating my ex, and things were great, and I was so excited and so happy.  In fact, a year ago today was the first time he invited me back to his place.  I remember everything about that night, and how perfect it was.  How we got drinks and how after we were kissing in my car and laughing that the center console was in the way.  How he was so sweet when he suggested going back to his place since he’s nearby, and how I knew he wasn’t trying to just get into my pants.  How he kissed me.  How he made me feel.  It was perfect.  It hurts.  I miss him so much and I can’t stop thinking about him.

Second Reason: One of my best friends just started seeing a new guy.  He seems great, and she is so happy, and I’m happy for her.  I really am so glad she found someone, but it’s hard to hear about the cute things he said to her and how good the dates are.  And I would never want her to not tell me how she’s feeling and how the new relationship is going, but it’s hard to be sympathetic when she’s stressed about what to say back to a flirty text, and overthinking what she should do.  There are a few times where I wanted to say “my heart feels like it’s shattered even more in the last couple days, and you’re freaking out because you don’t know what smiley face to send.” And I don’t want to be this shitty friend.  I know it’s not all about me, I would never tell her not to share these things, and I’m going to be there for her while she crafts the perfect text message.  I just miss that happy “I’m going to text the boy I like” feeling.

Third Reason: So, I have a friend that I dated briefly  (when I actually move past my sadness I’m going to write posts about past dating experiences and I’ll share more about him), and we had tried the whole friends with benefits thing after we both realized we were not a romantic match.  He brought up going back into that since we were both unattached, and I thought “what the hell”.  I figured this might help me move past the ex and not think about him.  A stepping stone back to physical intimacy.

We got drinks the other day, went back to my car, and started making out.  As soon as his hands started wandering I felt overwhelmed with sadness and couldn’t do it.  I burst into tears and had to tell him I couldn’t, and he stopped and let me cry and held my hand and sat with me while I tried to sort through my feelings.  I kept apologizing and he kept telling me to knock it off, there was nothing to apologize for.  After a long hug where he let me cry on his shoulder, I settled down and told him the reason for my sadness was because I still love my ex.  “I still love mine too” he told me, “That’s okay.  That’s normal” But it’s not just that I still care about my ex. “No” I said, “I don’t still just love him, I’m still in love with him. And that’s the difference.”

It really is.  You can still love someone from your past and care about them, and wish  them the best in life, but it’s not the same as still being in love with them.  Where you think about them constantly, and still crave the way they kissed you, and and to share your life with them.

Fourth Reason: I’m upset with my whole general being, so this reminder of the happiness I had is just icing on the cake.  Unemployed, no money, no prospects for anything – and quite honestly, a lack of romance is the least of it.  I’ve been under so much pressure about jobs and finances and it’s really getting to me.  I feel like I’m forever going to be stuck living this life and I feel like I’m drowning.  Forever trapped in this unhappy spot where I have nothing going for me.  I can’t see past it, no matter how hard I try.  I feel like I’ll never get started on a career, I’ll never be able to afford what I need, and I’ll always be stuck living at home with my parents, who are wonderful and supportive people, but it’s stifling to be here.  I feel like I’ll never be an adult and I’m going to die without being able to be on my own.

So I’m feeling really down.  And you know what sucks? I just want to talk to my ex about it.  I want to talk to him and tell him what’s going on, and just complain, and have him there for me.  I still miss him so much.  Three months later and I’m still crying over him.  And he probably doesn’t give me a second thought.

…though he did check my Snapchat story the other day when it obviously was a picture of me.  At least I looked cute.  Yes, I’m still waging my Snapchat war.  Yes, I’m still losing that war too.

Progress?

So…I accidentally, drunkenly, made out with someone at a friend’s party a couple weekends ago.  Now the last lips I kissed are no long my ex’s.  It’s weird.  The guy texted me a couple times, and he’s very nice, but I just kissed him because I was drunk, he was cute, and I needed it.  I wasn’t sure if i wanted to pursue it, and then when he texted me I panicked, and then the conversation just fizzled out.  I feel sort of bad.

But it’s helped. I want to move on.  I want to start thinking about getting out there again.  I want to be able to make that connection with another person that I’m craving.  I don’t want to say that I’m lonely, or that I just want to be with someone, because that doesn’t articulate what I want exactly.  Yes, I have been feeling lonely.  Yes, I want to be with someone.  But it’s not that superficial.  I see happy couples and I want that.  I have so much love to give, and I just want someone who will share their love with me.  Who will want me. Who lets me into their life one hundred percent.

I still miss him.  It still hurts so much.  He’s not on my mind as much, but he’s still there.  I’ll be fine, and then something reminds me of him and then the hurt is back just as strong as before.

It also doesn’t help that this time last year was when we first started dating.  I was so excited, so happy, and now…

I know I can’t do this to myself but all I’ve been thinking about the past couple of weeks is that he’s taking another girl out on a date.  This May he’ll be thinking of her and he doesn’t miss me or even think about me, and he’ll be happy with this new person and I’ll be miserable.

I’ve been a barrel of laughs lately.

 

 

Freed

I’ve been freed of my heartache.  I’ve just had a completely alternate look on my breakup.

I was out with my sister and the subject of my ex came up.  She asked me how I was, I said still sad, and then she asked if I would go back on any online dating apps or sites.  I told her I don’t know, I’m not ready for that, so I can’t even think about it right now.

She got quiet for a second and said, “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, but a friend saw him on Plenty of Fish about a month ago…I didn’t want to tell you when I found out because I didn’t want you to get upset.” To which I went, “oh” and then started crying.

We had a nice long talk about relationships and how they show us what we want and don’t want in a person, and she (kindly this time) pointed out the ways that he wasn’t the number one boyfriend to me, which I acknowledge and accept.

My picture of him is shattered now.  He is even more emotionally immature than I thought if he can jump back into online dating.  Yes, maybe he’s looking for a rebound, maybe a friend told him he has to start dating again so he can stop missing me and get over me, or maybe he’s just flat out emotionally stupid.  But whatever the reason, to be on a dating site a month after a breakup, after eight happy months and ‘I love yous’… it just made me feel…I’m not even sure how to articulate it.  Sad at first, definitely,  then mad, then…over it. I think I physically felt myself getting over it.

I know I just spent a long time sad, and how many posts have I fired off in the past few weeks lamenting the breakup, but I think this is what got me over that hump.  I can finally move on.  Yeah, I’ll probably relapse every once in a while, get sad and emotional, but I know I can move forward now.

And fair warning, an angry post about it may be coming up.  But right now I feel ok.  I really do.

I feel myself again.  I feel like I got my mojo back and I’m ready to get out there and do my thing.  He even checked my story on Snapchat and I didn’t bat an eye. (See, major development.) My worries from yesterday are gone now.  Fine, date other people, like their selfies, forget about me.  The heartache isn’t worth it.

I feel like I’ve been freed.

Lurkers Never Win

Before I begin this post I will say that writing the letter to my ex has helped me a lot.  It’s strange but I feel like I’m a lot more at ease.  I’m still very sad and I still can’t stop thinking about him, but I do feel like I am able to take a step back.  Then again, three different times today something big has happened and I immediately thought “I want to tell him”.  So, I’m two months and counting, healing slowly, still a work in progress…which brings me to my next topic…

I am a Class A Lurker.  I will not deny this.  If there is a something to see I’m already in the bushes with a pair of binoculars.  I had been better about lurking recently, but I had a moment and found myself scrolling through the likes of people I follow on Instagram to see if he had liked anything recently.  And he had.  And one of those pictures was of a girl who is new at his gym.  (I know she’s new and she joined right after we broke up because of a combination of Facebook lurking and Instagram lurking) and I feel weird.  Immediately my mind goes to “that’s because he wants to be with her” followed by “he’s going to be happier with her than he ever was with me” followed by “how is he over me already?”

I know that these thoughts are unsubstantiated.  I’m not going to pretend that they’re impossible, but chances are that she’s a friend and she posted a selfie, and because they’re friends and he happened to be scrolling by, he liked it.  I can’t get caught up in analyzing it.  Because its not for me to analyze anymore.  I can’t let it worry and upset me.

Slowly. I am healing slowly.

Though I swear, if they do start dating and he puts it on Facebook fairly soon I will drive to his apartment and nail my 95 theses to his door telling him how many shades of fucked up that is.

 

 

Dear ____

Dear ____,

As of yesterday it’s been eight weeks since we broke up.  Two months.  Jeez, two months.  I’m still very, very hurt.  So hurt that in the past couple weeks I’ve plugged “how to get over him” and “how to get over a breakup” more than once in my Pinterest search bar (Google would have been too desperate, too real), and in many of the articles I glanced through it suggested writing a letter and then not send it.  It apparently gives you a chance to say everything you wanted to say but couldn’t or didn’t; it gives a way to let out your feelings.  And you know me, I’m entirely driven by my feelings. You’re supposed to write down what you loved about the relationship, what you didn’t love. The ups, the downs, and it helps you reflect and accept the fate of the relationship.  Apparently.

I miss you.  I miss talking to you.  I miss joking with you. I miss just being with you.  I was so happy to spend time with you, and I miss doing that.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured myself laying with you on your couch, scrolling through the options on Netflix with neither of us being able to make a choice.  I wish for that again.  I just want to be with you again, and it hurts to just think that you didn’t fight for me, to be with me.  You didn’t. I thought bringing up what was wrong, what I was noticing, would make you want to fix it, make you want to try harder.  And it didn’t.  Honestly, if you tried for even just one week and failed, I would be less sad now.

You were everything I wanted.  You’re smart, you’re silly, you are nerdy in the best way. I loved that you were into your gym but you’re not a bro.  Charismatic and fun, easy going. You love languages and words and don’t know if I ever stressed just how much I loved that about you, how attractive that was to me.  So many times I described you as the male version of me to my friends.  I was so happy to call you my boyfriend.  I could easily picture our life together.  I thought you were the one. I wanted you to be one.

My family didn’t like you.  I never told you that, because I wanted it to change without being forced.  They had some really old fashioned and ridiculous ideas about what a relationship should look like, and I constantly butted heads with them about it.  They thought you should come pick me up for every date even if we were in your area, pay for every meal (that’s more because of my current unemployment, but also a little because you’re the boy), and were positively puritan in their idea of us spending the night together.  You knew that last one, I know you said it was rough to think that you never woke up next to me, and I felt it too, but I just couldn’t disappoint my parents even though I was 26 and that’s a normal adult relationship.  I was juggling their expectations and my wants, and well, family always comes first for me- even at the detriment of my happiness.  They were always so mad that we didn’t have a set plan, yet didn’t care that that wasn’t a priority for me.  I never cared about that, for me it was simply being with you that I wanted, why would we need to schedule out our meals and activities?  Honestly, it contributed a lot to us not seeing each other certain times, because they would throw a fit if I drove to you (25 minutes away *gasp*) and they really didn’t let me have an adult relationship.  They didn’t.  They also didn’t like your attitude towards them.  You didn’t act like you were interested in getting to know them.  You were aloof and standoffish, and it wouldn’t have killed you to make small talk.  You should have been able to connect that my family is central to my life, and that you needed to be on good terms with them.

And my sister.  She hated you.  I love her dearly, but once she thinks a certain way about a person she doesn’t change, even if it’s a stupid reason.  She thought you were pretentious and that you didn’t make the effort to get to know her.  She was so mad because one time when we were at a party you said a blanket hello to everyone and didn’t seek her out to say hello individually.  Silly, I know.  You could have tried harder though.  You know how close we are, and you were lacking in the effort there.  She and my brother in law are not only my family, they’re my friends.  And there was a disconnect with you there.

I know family isn’t your thing.  You’re not close to yours at all.  You never ever talked about them, and even when I poked and prodded  for something, anything, you were closed lipped. It baffled me.  I can count on one hand the number of stories you told me about them.  You also waited a very long time to tell them about us and I hated that.  You must have known how much that bothered me.  And then when you finally told them, you hardly told me about their reactions.  That was fucked up to me.  If there’s anything to be mad at, it’s that.  If I see you again I’m going to feel compelled to tell you to let your family know about your next girlfriend sooner, because it’s going to give her a complex.

You didn’t show affection the way I needed it.  I need to hear “I love you” or “I think you’re great” or something along those lines. I told you I needed words of affirmation, more than once, actually. That would have been the easiest solution.  I don’t know why you decided you couldn’t do that.  And that’s made me agonize over if you really loved me or not.  I think you did. I hope you did.

You told me that it wasn’t because of me.  I had such a fear that I wasn’t enough, I told you that is an insecurity of mine in a relationship- that I’m not enough to make someone want to stay.  You told me that I was everything and it was just because of “your fucked up brain” that you couldn’t give me what I needed.  I wish we talked more about that.  I want to understand more.  Why you couldn’t open up more, let me in more.  You hardly talked about your thoughts and feelings, and that’s all I want to talk about.  Even your day to day thoughts, “this is annoying” or “this funny thing happened that I want to remember”.  I suppose you realized that you don’t work that way and I do, and if I think of it that way it’s easier to see why you walked away instead of trying.  Doesn’t make it hurt less though.

Still though, I wonder why.  We were good, so good, together.  I know when we had that final conversation I said no one was to blame. I don’t blame you, but I do think you could have tried.  But, I also deserve someone who is going to try, who isn’t going to give up.  I said that maybe it was just time for us to end organically, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.  I believe that, but I also wish I didn’t say it, because it now feels like I was letting you off the hook.  When I said I don’t hate you, could never hate you, that I don’t blame you, you said, “and that’s one of the things I admire about you.” And I wanted to scream and tell you if you just said things like that before maybe we wouldn’t be having this sad conversation now.

You lack emotional maturity.  Really, that’s the main thing that contributed to our breakup.  You aren’t emotionally in the place that I am.  You did realize that.  I don’t think you could articulate it but I think that’s what it is.  Even if you wanted it, you couldn’t, and you realized that wasn’t good for me.  The thing that sucks though is because I have such strong emotions, every day without you has hurt. I’ve cried through writing this letter.  I was supposed to finish it yesterday, on the actual two month mark, but had to put it aside because I couldn’t see through my tears anymore.  It made me too sad to write.  I just hope you also realize how much love you walked away from.  I have so much to give.

My good friend told me yesterday that my pain shows that I was genuine and true in my feelings.  At least I know I’m being authentic.  Small consolation though.

I guess that’s it.  I miss you, I love you, I hope you’re doing well.  I still wonder what I could have done to make this last, and I know it’s going to take me a long time to heal.  I wish you could read this.  I wish I could tell you to your face how and what I’m feeling. I have this bizarre fantasy that I see you on a night out and you ask me how I’m doing, and I say “Do you want the polite answer or the real one?” and then I tell you exactly how I’m doing…and most of the key points in this incredibly long letter.  And you tell me that you are hurting too.  I don’t want you to forget about me.  I don’t want you to just think of me as ‘this girl I used to date’.  I want to be missed.  I really hope you miss me.

Anyway, I guess it’s time to say goodbye. I don’t want to, but if I don’t stop now I can keep going forever, and that won’t be helpful to me either.  I’ll close this with the same way I said goodbye when we broke up.

Take care.

l.a.

Social Media is the Worst

So, the other night I ended up crying into my pillow as a friend of mine gave me some tough love.  Essentially, I still follow my ex on all forms of social media, and my friend was telling me I need to delete him.  I was arguing that I can’t do that, I can’t cut him out like that, and even though I know seeing him on my feed is refreshing the pain, I cannot let go.

I know I’m perpetuating my pain.  I know that I really am not doing the healthy thing by checking Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook… I know that most people would be exasperated with me, and tell me to just defriend him already. (Even now I’m logged into Facebook and am wistfully staring at the green dot next to his name in the chat feature.) And to tell the truth, I can’t fully explain why I won’t just rip off the bandaid and do it already. It’s like the not knowing scares me and will hurt more than the current pain.  And I don’t want him to forget me.  It’s juvenile, but that is a fear.  That for as much as I still am in love with him and miss him, he won’t care anymore.

I was feeling really down because I’d been in a snapchat war of my own imagination and design.  What the hell does that mean? It means that I carefully check if he looks at my story, and then I collect that data and use it to fuel my sadness. Sad when he doesn’t, sad when he does.  Yup, totally a healthy move. Buckle your seat belts, because I’m about to take you on the wild ride of my illogical logic.

He didn’t check out my story on my birthday at the beginning of the month.  That was done purposely, I concluded.  It had to be because he wanted to ignore my birthday so he didn’t have to send good wishes, and/or think about it. That following weekend was when I went out with friends, and he viewed every story almost as soon as I posted it (Yes, I checked my story often). Also, from checking his story,  saw he was with friends. So, through rationalizing this out to myself, I figured it was because he missed me, and was telling his friends about our breakup, and he was sad, and that’s why.  Again, the logic isn’t sound, but it made me feel better in the moment.

Then, he didn’t check my stories for the next week.  Like, nothing.  Even though he posted his own, no views.  And that infuriated me. I even checked the minute before it would expire, to see if he snuck in there to view it and didn’t want me to see.  Because I am petty and I may have done that a few times. But no, nothing. I also rationalized that this was because he was so upset about how much he missed me, and felt awful because he missed celebrating my birthday, and told himself he shouldn’t look anymore.

So I didn’t view his.  And then this Easter I cracked and I looked, and in a story there was a snap that I presume was his friend and his friend’s girlfriend, and he captioned it “relationship goals”. And that simultaneously broke my heart and made me mad.  Because it insinuated that I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t someone to have that with.  And it mad me mad because if he just opened up, if he just let me in more, he would have had that.  I would have had that.

Jeez, I’m crying again.

Anyway, he’s back to checking my snap stories.  Anyway you slice it, I guess I lost that imaginary battle.

I’m aware I sounds crazy.  I know. But, it’s all part of the healing

 

Six Weeks Later

I started writing this a month after, but then got too sad and put it aside.

I’ve also been trying to work on it all week, but kept getting sad.

It’s officially been over a month since the breakup.  A month and two weeks…six weeks… Wow, six weeks.  Six weeks since I’ve spoken to him, technically even longer since I’ve seen him, six weeks of feeling compelled to check his social media but knowing I shouldn’t, and doing it anyway.

It’s been a really sucky, terrible six weeks.

I’m right in that sweet spot of feeling awful, and sad, and wistfully remembering our relationship.  Moments will just pop into my head and I can’t ignore them.  Memories will surface and no matter how hard I try to forget about it, I miss him.  I can’t stop thinking about him.  It’s like I’m scared that if I let him go I’ll let go of the chance of happiness I had.  I know it doesn’t make sense.  I know logically that the relationship wasn’t the end all, be all, because if it was, it would not have ended.  I know I am young and I will (hopefully) find the love I need, but there’s that part of me that’s still clinging to this.  I wanted it so badly, I wanted him to be the one.. I thought he was the one.  I still cry whenever I think about him for a prolonged amount of time.

I just want to talk him, you know? The hardest part of all this has been not being able to speak to him.  So many things have happened in the last six weeks where my first instinct is “oh, I can’t wait to tell him” or “talking to him about this will make me feel better”.  And then it hits me that I can’t, and my heart breaks all over again.

I’m constantly worried I’m going to run into him when I’m out.  Terrified I’m going to see him and break down and make a fool out of myself.  And I also wish that I do see him. Mostly though, if I’m being honest with myself, I want to see him.

It’s also hard because I just celebrated my birthday, and I really thought he’d be there.  A couple months ago there was no doubt in my mind that he’d be celebrating with me.  And then the day came and went and I didn’t hear from him.  It was rough.  I went out with friends and he wasn’t there.  And it made my heart hurt.

Six weeks later, and despite everything, I’m still in love with him.  And I want it to get easier.