Aside from missing him terribly and being heartbroken, I'm finding it really hard to deal with this new "being single" thing. Just that word makes me all cringey. I love being in a relationship. I think there's nothing in the world better or more meaningful than being in love. So now... that's been taken away, and I have this "lost" feeling. My friends have been enormously helpful, and I've been with them all the time, and it really does help, and I laugh and have a good time... but then have to come back to my house, my own bed, alone. And it hurts, and it's lonely.
I've been thinking... And what comes to mind first is that there is nothing better than love, nothing better than falling asleep and waking up next to someone you love, cuddling while watching a movie, hello and goodbye kisses and kisses for no reason at all, sharing a bed and a shower and so many private jokes and memories, being tickled and picked up and spun around, having someone to write love letters to, and wear sexy lingerie for, and bring surprises to. There's nothing better than standing in your love's kitchen wearing your pajamas and his old college sweatshirt. And having someone who makes you just so grateful for his existence, so appreciative of the precise way he takes up space in the world.
But then, and this is what I have to tell myself now, to get through, but also what's true... Is that there is something better than what I've had, something better than just loving - which is loving, and being loved with just as much passion as you're giving. And with Taylor I wasn't getting that, not at all toward the end. And no matter how much I loved him, it never would've been enough, when he didn't love me. So there is something better than what I lost, and I don't have it now, but I hope I will someday. And there's a realization now: knowing that if I hadn't lost this relationship, then I could never find the something-better. And just thinking about how amazing what I had was, makes me think that what I can have in the future will be even more amazing and beautiful. I hope.
Even though the thought of being with another guy right now makes me feel panicked... I have to trust that time will make it better, and easier, and that I'll find someone else when I'm ready.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
so you know
He broke up with me.
He'd been a bit distant for a while, not returning calls, reluctant to make plans. So I asked him if something was wrong, and he came over. We went for a walk. And he told me staying together wasn't fair to either of us, because I loved him and he didn't love me, and knew he never would.
A couple of months ago, after I'd told him I loved him and he'd never said it, I asked him if he did. He said he didn't know. And then he realized he just didn't, at all. I constantly had a lot of anxiety about our relationship because I always felt like I was more into it than he was; this anxiety caused me to start arguments over small things and get jealous. I was always terrified of losing him, and now it's happened.
He said he cares about me very much. He hated hurting me. He told me it would be all right.
I'm a mess. I keep thinking of all the things we didn't get to do, and all the things we'll never do again. And I know there's nothing I did wrong, and nothing I could do to make him love me, but it hurts more than anything I've ever gone through. I loved him so much - still do. Waking up next to him, being held by him, having him make me breakfast... made me the happiest I've ever been in my life. I gave everything to him. While we were together, I was completely focused on him. All my happiness was because of him, and all my unhappiness too. And now I feel like there's nothing. Logically I know that's not true, but it's still the feeling I have.
My friends have been over all the time, which is good, but I've still been crying for days and hardly eating or sleeping. I've been calling out of work. Nothing I usually enjoy seems to mean anything anymore or bring any happiness. And... that's all I can think to say about it right now.
He'd been a bit distant for a while, not returning calls, reluctant to make plans. So I asked him if something was wrong, and he came over. We went for a walk. And he told me staying together wasn't fair to either of us, because I loved him and he didn't love me, and knew he never would.
A couple of months ago, after I'd told him I loved him and he'd never said it, I asked him if he did. He said he didn't know. And then he realized he just didn't, at all. I constantly had a lot of anxiety about our relationship because I always felt like I was more into it than he was; this anxiety caused me to start arguments over small things and get jealous. I was always terrified of losing him, and now it's happened.
He said he cares about me very much. He hated hurting me. He told me it would be all right.
I'm a mess. I keep thinking of all the things we didn't get to do, and all the things we'll never do again. And I know there's nothing I did wrong, and nothing I could do to make him love me, but it hurts more than anything I've ever gone through. I loved him so much - still do. Waking up next to him, being held by him, having him make me breakfast... made me the happiest I've ever been in my life. I gave everything to him. While we were together, I was completely focused on him. All my happiness was because of him, and all my unhappiness too. And now I feel like there's nothing. Logically I know that's not true, but it's still the feeling I have.
My friends have been over all the time, which is good, but I've still been crying for days and hardly eating or sleeping. I've been calling out of work. Nothing I usually enjoy seems to mean anything anymore or bring any happiness. And... that's all I can think to say about it right now.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
first summer adventure
The boyfriend and I went on a biking adventure & beach picnic last week! We put the bike rack on the car, stopped at a grocery store for supplies, and drove to Jamestown. It was lovely to drive over the bridge and see the ocean with the windows down. When we got there, we went to the beach first (Mackerel Cove), spread out blankets, took out the cooler, and brought books of course. We had a nice picnic of tortilla chips and grapes while reading.
After that we got on the bikes and rode all around the island. He lived there as a teenager so he knows his way around. One nice thing was when we rode by his old house and found a pine tree he planted in the backyard when his family first moved there. I am admittedly not in the best shape, having avoided exercise for the past three years, so biking wasn’t as easy as I expected… but it was still fun. And rewarded with ice cream.
The ice cream was eaten after we rode into town for lunch at a deli. Then we lingered around a bit, then got back on the bikes and took a very roundabout way back to the beach, where we lay around on blankets again and read more.
It was one of those excellent spilled-sunshine-on-the-road summer days. On the way back, boyfriend drove while I lazily looked out the windows, and was happy.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
happy wandering day
The Providence Journal had a feature the other day on interesting things to do on Memorial Day. I picked “Shop Downcity,” an event on Westminster St. where the shops do kind of a sidewalk sale, selling stuff outside at discounted prices. My mom came along with me. We got there toward the end of the day so there wasn’t all that much left, but it was nice to walk around anyway.
The best part of the day was when we stopped in Tazza Cafe for a drink and ended up having a delicious lunch & dessert. I had an iced chai and a panini, and for dessert a strange and marvelous creation called pistachio napoleon. Layers of phyllo with Grand Mariner cream and vanilla-coated mandarin oranges.
While we had lunch we talked about plans for my 21st birthday in September and college graduation one year from now. About the first, I’m very excited. Plans include classy dinners at places with wine lists (one with my parents, one with the boyfriend), an adventure with my best friends (maybe a road trip). About the second thing – graduation – I’m more scared, but the prospect of a party on a nice lawn somewhere with a band playing in the background makes it better.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
on love
I think my biggest ambition in life is just this: to be with the one I love (and who loves me). That's the most important thing I want. I've always thought I could deal with not getting the job I want, or not living in the place I want, just as long as I could have that powerful & lasting relationship and to know it wouldn't go away.
That seems almost unacceptable today. It seems like women aren't supposed to have romantic dreams and to place so much importance on being in love. A woman is supposed to put her career and ambitions like that first, or she's antifeminist, a relic of the past when women couldn't do anything without their husbands.
Either that or it's viewed as a symptom: I want love because I'm insecure, because I don't value myself enough, because I don't think I'm strong enough to make it in the world on my own.
But, no, those things aren't true. What's true is that I just love being in love. It brings the absolute best feelings and experiences of my life, better than anything else could possibly be. There is nothing like that magic.
And that's why my biggest fear is ending up single, that's why I hold on so tightly, why I get suspicious and paranoid over the littlest things, why I want absolutely everything, total commitment from the beginning. Because I feel so strongly.
That seems almost unacceptable today. It seems like women aren't supposed to have romantic dreams and to place so much importance on being in love. A woman is supposed to put her career and ambitions like that first, or she's antifeminist, a relic of the past when women couldn't do anything without their husbands.
Either that or it's viewed as a symptom: I want love because I'm insecure, because I don't value myself enough, because I don't think I'm strong enough to make it in the world on my own.
But, no, those things aren't true. What's true is that I just love being in love. It brings the absolute best feelings and experiences of my life, better than anything else could possibly be. There is nothing like that magic.
And that's why my biggest fear is ending up single, that's why I hold on so tightly, why I get suspicious and paranoid over the littlest things, why I want absolutely everything, total commitment from the beginning. Because I feel so strongly.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
college
At the end of junior year, I've been thinking all the time about college. It's like it has become its own, all-consuming subject. I just haven't, er, reconciled myself with college. I'm almost out, but I've never felt like I found a place there like most people do. The closest I've gotten is poetry classes, Tuesdays and Thursdays in the Hoffman Room, where I felt really enthusiastic and like I wanted to be there. I've never gotten involved in college social life or joined extra activities. I remain feeling disconnected from most people my age, like we just can't relate to each other. I'm on friendlier terms with my professors than my fellow students.
I also feel kind of pathetic that I'm almost 21 and have never lived on my own. Most people in college get some experience living independently out of their parents' house, in a dorm or renting an apartment or a house with friends. I never did. Not because I was afraid or didn't want to - I just can't afford it. A lot of college kids are only able to get a bit of independence because their parents pay for their dorm or apartment, or help them pay for it. My parents weren't willing to pay for anything like that or help at all - they think that if I want to be independent, I have to do it all the way, be completely self-sufficient and pay all my own bills. So if I want to move out, I need at least a full-time job. I've never been willing to work full-time during school (not like there are many jobs who would hire college students full-time), so I can't afford independence, which is this constant thing that makes me feel too childish for my age for not having moved out yet.
Also there's still this residual haunting of I Didn't Go to Wheaton. I don't wish I had gone. Mostly because, if I'd gone to Wheaton, I wouldn't have met Taylor. Also I wouldn't know any of the excellent English professors at URI. But it's still there anyway. When I made that choice, I was kind of curious. You always hear stories like this: someone has a choice between the safe decision and the risky decision... and they always, always take the risk. In spite of how it will set them back enormous amounts of money, separate them from everything familiar, etc. I was curious about what would happen to someone who just didn't take the risk. Now I know - good, even amazing things still happen, I won't graduate in debt, but. But I still have that agonizing feeling of waiting for my life to start.
I've been unhappy. Not deeply depressed or anything, and not all the time. Sometimes I'm deliriously happy. But there's always this thing that creeps in, this lethargy, like laziness but a bone-deep kind of laziness that makes you think your life will never go anywhere. Is it because the fear has gotten in that deep? Or maybe it's just the effect of three years of not doing anything risky or challenging or... what. Don't know.
I also feel kind of pathetic that I'm almost 21 and have never lived on my own. Most people in college get some experience living independently out of their parents' house, in a dorm or renting an apartment or a house with friends. I never did. Not because I was afraid or didn't want to - I just can't afford it. A lot of college kids are only able to get a bit of independence because their parents pay for their dorm or apartment, or help them pay for it. My parents weren't willing to pay for anything like that or help at all - they think that if I want to be independent, I have to do it all the way, be completely self-sufficient and pay all my own bills. So if I want to move out, I need at least a full-time job. I've never been willing to work full-time during school (not like there are many jobs who would hire college students full-time), so I can't afford independence, which is this constant thing that makes me feel too childish for my age for not having moved out yet.
Also there's still this residual haunting of I Didn't Go to Wheaton. I don't wish I had gone. Mostly because, if I'd gone to Wheaton, I wouldn't have met Taylor. Also I wouldn't know any of the excellent English professors at URI. But it's still there anyway. When I made that choice, I was kind of curious. You always hear stories like this: someone has a choice between the safe decision and the risky decision... and they always, always take the risk. In spite of how it will set them back enormous amounts of money, separate them from everything familiar, etc. I was curious about what would happen to someone who just didn't take the risk. Now I know - good, even amazing things still happen, I won't graduate in debt, but. But I still have that agonizing feeling of waiting for my life to start.
I've been unhappy. Not deeply depressed or anything, and not all the time. Sometimes I'm deliriously happy. But there's always this thing that creeps in, this lethargy, like laziness but a bone-deep kind of laziness that makes you think your life will never go anywhere. Is it because the fear has gotten in that deep? Or maybe it's just the effect of three years of not doing anything risky or challenging or... what. Don't know.
Monday, April 20, 2009
hello
Whenever there's been a significant time when I haven't posted on a blog, it's mostly been because there is so much going on in my mind that I can't even write it down in a coherent way. When I start to realize that the mess in my head has gotten so big that I need to fix it, then the desire to write about it comes back. So here I am. I wanted to start a new blog again because I feel like each blog I've had marks a time in my life and a particular mindset to go along with it, and lately I've been trying to change my mindset - from terrible anxiety and fear, into optimism.
Sooo, since my last post, here are some things that have happened:
- I'm in therapy again for the first time since I was thirteen. I got a recommendation for a really good therapist from my doctor and I've only had two appointments so far, but I think it's going to help. She has me doing these exercises with titles like "Overcoming Negative Self-Talk;" sounds pretty lame, huh? But I think it might work. I'm going to post some of that stuff on this blog.
- I've gotten freaked out about the future again. I had a brief period of being okay with the present, thinking about Embracing Possibililty! and whatnot, but then it hit me like ye olde piano from the sky that I'm about to become a senior in college, STILL with no. fucking. clue about where my life is going to go.
- Thanks to my advanced poetry class with a really awesome professor and talented students, I've gotten a lot better as a poet and started viewing poetry as a serious interest, instead of something fun to do on the side. I've even tentatively stopped deluding myself that I'd rather be a fiction writer.
- I am pseudo-seriously considering applying to graduate school next year for an MFA in some kind of creative writing. Partly because I really am interested, partly because I don't want to get a real job - and don't think I'll be able to find a real job that would be anything close to fulfilling.
- Things with the boyfriend are still going very well. I'm in love and happy, but my fear of the future makes me anxious about our relationship. I want it to last, so much.
So, yay, new blog! I'm going to try to write often, and add photos and interesting things, and try to lift away that serious, melodramatic tone that seeped into the other blog when I was depressed. I can't seem to escape the inevitable Musings About My Life when I write, but I'll try to also incorporate amusing things like anecdotes and fashion misdemeanors and crazy people, cloud-patterns and books I'm reading and things written on sidewalks. Here's to a beginning.
Sooo, since my last post, here are some things that have happened:
- I'm in therapy again for the first time since I was thirteen. I got a recommendation for a really good therapist from my doctor and I've only had two appointments so far, but I think it's going to help. She has me doing these exercises with titles like "Overcoming Negative Self-Talk;" sounds pretty lame, huh? But I think it might work. I'm going to post some of that stuff on this blog.
- I've gotten freaked out about the future again. I had a brief period of being okay with the present, thinking about Embracing Possibililty! and whatnot, but then it hit me like ye olde piano from the sky that I'm about to become a senior in college, STILL with no. fucking. clue about where my life is going to go.
- Thanks to my advanced poetry class with a really awesome professor and talented students, I've gotten a lot better as a poet and started viewing poetry as a serious interest, instead of something fun to do on the side. I've even tentatively stopped deluding myself that I'd rather be a fiction writer.
- I am pseudo-seriously considering applying to graduate school next year for an MFA in some kind of creative writing. Partly because I really am interested, partly because I don't want to get a real job - and don't think I'll be able to find a real job that would be anything close to fulfilling.
- Things with the boyfriend are still going very well. I'm in love and happy, but my fear of the future makes me anxious about our relationship. I want it to last, so much.
So, yay, new blog! I'm going to try to write often, and add photos and interesting things, and try to lift away that serious, melodramatic tone that seeped into the other blog when I was depressed. I can't seem to escape the inevitable Musings About My Life when I write, but I'll try to also incorporate amusing things like anecdotes and fashion misdemeanors and crazy people, cloud-patterns and books I'm reading and things written on sidewalks. Here's to a beginning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)