Showing posts tagged break up

Awkward conversation for a girl for her girl - neither of which are "me"

  • Girl: Aren't you guys together??
  • Swag and me: No
  • Girl: No you're bf and gf
  • Swag and me: No, we're not
  • Girl: I can totally tell
  • Swag and me: No seriously, we're not
  • Girl: Oh come on! Someone told me you were
  • Swag and me: Look at each other awkwardly...I silently walk away

After an awkward night in the kitchen

  • Swag (text): Are we cool? Are you cool?
  • Me (text): Dude - you broke it off. You can't expect me to do cartwheels around you. It's gonna be awkward but lucky for us it's almost over.
  • Swag ( text): Sorry i didnt know you felt bad or awkward about all of it, ill let you be
  • Me - silently crushed that it still needs to be reiterated that he has dumped me and no, he has not realized his potentially fatal mistake.


this is amazing

this is amazing

Second Chances?

My roommate from university is getting married this weekend. I’m thrilled for her, but also a little bit sad.

She and I lived together for our 2nd, 3rd and 4th years together. We had our ups and downs but we were really close because we shared so much of our university experience together. We were always hanging out with the same crowd and we’d always become a “3” with another girl, but no matter what the two of us seemed to stick together.

Something changed in our 4th year though. A good friend of mine (and of hers) came to live with us. The dynamic swiftly changed and her jealousy of me permeated throughout our living situation. (She was jealous of my island home, my red hair, my twin - all of which I can not, and would never want to, change) I run from conflict and tried my very best to be the best type of friend I could, but almost everything I did was taken either out of context, or assumed to be the worse. It was unbelievably stressful on me and I was sad but happy to leave when I graduated. I knew I’d miss her (Let’s call her Lady) but I wouldn’t miss living with her and Knit (the other roommate)

Fast forward and I moved to NYC and found out one of our mutual friends lived there too. I was thrilled. She and I were friends first and I brought her into our fold. 

Except something was very different in NYC. She wasn’t the person I thought she was, and somehow ended up living with my boyfriend (we met through her) and she was not only basket case to live with, but a HORRIBLE roommate (like psycho) and this changed our friendship. Things came to a head but she “broke up with me” over text message.

I knew that Knit and Lady were close to her still so I thought I’d send them an email explaining NOT my side, but that she (NYC) and I decided not to be friends anymore but I hoped that that wouldn’t affect our relationships since we had been friends for such a long time. I specifically told them I did NOT want them to pick sides but that they could be friends with both of us, but we just wouldn’t be friends with each other.

Knit sent me back the most hateful email I thought I could ever receive. Declaring me a drama queen, of ALWAYS being one, and that NYC was a better friend that I would be any day.

To say I was hurt was an understatement. Our relationship quickly, and promptly ended.

Lady however, Lady is a different story. She got caught up between not only NYC and Me, but Knit and Me, and decided to keep in touch with Knit and NYC, not me. I’ve tried over the years to keep in contact but it just doesn’t work for some reason.

When my father passed away is the ONLY time I’ve heard from Knit and NYC in almost 5 years. It was a hollow peace offering.

When I wished Lady an amazing day for her upcoming wedding, she asked me if I had changed my mind about reaching out to Knit and NYC, saying that they’d love to hear from me.

Why is it my court to reach out to these girls? They exited from my life (in the most dramatic of ways) and my life hasn’t been any worse of without them.

Except they are invited to Lady’s wedding, and I am not.

And that, that hurts.

I would give them a second chance if only for Lady, but I really don’t want to invite that into my life again.

Is it worth it to be included in the University group again? Even though it all just feels a little bit hollow?

I just don’t know.

I am done with dating.

While I was in Florence my sister asked me again: “But why are you dating this guy? You see no future with him and I’m constantly seeing you dating for dating sake. Why don’t you just wait until you meet someone you actually want to be with and date them?”

Those words repeated over and over again on my last (and ultimate failure of a trip) with the Frenchman.

I knew he wasn’t the one but it was fun and exciting to date someone new, foreign, and who could speak another language.

But things got old right quick when the bigger picture came into play. He is a complete, and utter, chauvinist. The woman’s place is at home and he constantly tried to convince me that if a rich man came along, I would just want to take care of our babies, and lunch with my friends, and ya know, have no ambition of my own. (Which is, beyond, insulting.)

And the “play fights” over whether or not I would succumb to his desire to have me clean his…well…everything (shirts, pants, dishes, apartment…) got even older.

So after 2 very long days in the gorgeous city of Strasbourg, I knew it was time to let the Frenchman go and truly close up shop until I actually meet someone I like. Adore. Couldn’t see myself without.

It’s been a very long time since, but I have absolute faith. 

It’s true

I have made two very good friends at LCB. One is 31 and one is 19. The 19 yr old is with her first boyfriend and first love. She is doubting. My other friend and I have had two very different experiences with our first loves. She stayed with hers for 10 years. I stayed with mine for 4 years (on and off). So the 19 yr old asked for advice. 

Mine was that everyone else has been less than the first. The first is the first feeling of love. Of intimacy. That if you can keep and maintain, it’s worth holding on. But I knew if I stayed with mine, I wouldn’t experience more. Wouldn’t experience NYC, Paris, Culinary School. I would have stayed, stayed for him, in his reality. But we never “ran our course” as some say. We broke up because we had to. But now I know we needed to.

My other friend said she wishes they would have had the break to test. Test their love. Their faithfulness. Their relationship.

There is no right answer. But each girl said that because I said everyone else has been just a little bit “less” means I haven’t found the “the one”.

I disagreed.

They have always been just a little bit “less” because he was the first. The first person I ever loved outside my family. The first person I wanted to tell anything (before my sister). My first ever confident outside my family. The first person I ever trusted more than anyone else.

You can never replace. You can never aspire. But you can find different. And that I’m happy with that. It’s not about competing. It’s about fulfilling. 

And another one bites the dust.

We sat going round and round when I just had to say it. 

"At the end of the day, there’s a girl, me, sitting across from a boy, you. Girl wants to be in a relationship with boy, boy doesn’t. We can sit here discussing why, or how, or when, or what killed this, but what’s the point?"

He said, “Well I wouldn’t put it…but yeah.”

I then gathered my rejected self and with as much dignity I could muster, excused myself from the situation - not before calling him an idiot of course.

As I sat on my bike, trying to turn the key, the tears started to stream. Shamelessly crying for the relationship that would never be.

With a swipe of the tears, and a few deep breaths, I set off and tried oh so hard not to look back.

Emotional Rant.

You sit and wonder, torturing yourself. Stalk google, twitter, and facebook. You want to know what they’re doing, how they are. Too cowardly to ask them directly for fear of silence, you look for little snippets of their reality. You wonder how they can “miss you” yet never reach out. You ponder if it’s bullshit or sincere. Either way you just can’t let them go. 

You get angry at yourself for the constant state of self torture. The tug of the heart strings, the hopeful wonder. You mentally slap yourself over and over again. You’re no longer, separated by hundreds of miles, yet you still can’t forget them.

Forget how they made you feel. How it felt to walk beside them. Their dimples, scruff, intense dark eyes. The ease of falling in step. The laughter. The intimate moments you play over and over. Their hands through your hair. Their breath on your skin.

It will get better. They will go away. You will be happy and open to falling in love again. But right now it’s about time. Time to forget the conversations. Get some distance from their flesh. Forget the sound of their voice and how much you enjoyed listening to them talk about anything.

It will get better and you won’t feel like such an intense idiot for feeling this way.