Archive | June, 2011

Attrition.

27 Jun

It’s been a week since we last talked. Sorry, we never really even talked that much. We just IMed and texted. We didn’t even call each other so I don’t even remember all that well what his voice sounded like.

I can’t believe I was such a pathetic little girl a few months ago when I thought that this guy was going to be it for me. Just like Carrie Bradshaw says in Sex and the City (the movie), “If I’d met me now, I wouldn’t know me.”

I remember it used to be so painful to not talk for a day or two, and now I’ve gone through a whole week and I’m fine. I’m surprising myself actually. Sure, sometimes I’ll think about the good memories and it hurts for a bit, but usually the pain doesn’t last. At least I had them, I guess.

Summer is… summer. It’s starting to get hot outside for long amounts of time. My parents are always nagging, and it’s kinda ticking me off since this is my last summer of absolute nothingness, considering future summers will very likely be spent taking classes or traveling or study abroad.

I’m excited to go to New York in a few weeks. It’s been a really long time, and I’ll be visiting family friends in New Jersey that I haven’t seen in more than ten years. I’ve been shopping for dresses and summery clothes and bright makeup, and even though I haven’t bought a lot, the things I’ve gotten are amazing.

I’m still running. I didn’t run yesterday because it was kinda hot and I felt a little sore but I think that’s only the second day I’ve skipped in the past two weeks. I’m pretty proud of myself. It’s not really about losing weight or anything, I just want to get healthier. And it really helps me run off a lot of anxiety and anger and fear and coffee jitters and all that good stuff. I love plugging in my iPod for half an hour and just jogging. I’m not training for a marathon, I don’t want to compete – I just want to run at my own damn pace and be done with it. It feels good.

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Getting over it.

17 Jun

Hi Emily. I hope you’re having a good time on the plane or in China. That place is the shit.

I’m watching one of those cliched figure skating movies right now with my laptop in my lap and cheezits and chocolate chip cookies in my stomach. And I was facebook stalking. And I’m kinda sad now.

I want to tell him that I still love him like crazy and that I want us to be together forever, but I can’t. I’m pretty sure he’s moved on. I know that I deserve so much more and that I shouldn’t waste any more time on him, but I can’t help how I feel. My main fear is what the next year holds. There’s not enough trust or willpower in either of us.

On one hand, he drives me crazy and makes me feel more flawed than anyone else can. On the other, I love him to death and I want him so badly. I just constantly feel like anyone and everyone is better in his eyes than I am because that’s how he treats me. And I’m not even certain if he feels any differently deep down inside.

I guess I was just never enough.

I don’t know.

You only fall in love once?

15 Jun

I guess there are a lot of theories about the number of times you can really fall in love. I just saw a friend retweet someone who claims that a person can only really fall in love once. On an episode of Sex and the City, one of the girls read in a magazine that one can fall in love three times.

If it’s the former, I guess I’m screwed. But then again, did I really love Tim? If I didn’t, I must’ve liked him a whole freaking lot. Love is different for each person, so I don’t know. I think it was real and deep and true for me. There’s always the chance, though, that it was just something that felt a lot like the real deal but wasn’t. Like how some women go into fake labor before they have their babies!

If it’s the latter, I have two (maybe three) more chances to find what I’m looking for. That’s more frightening than anything else though. Love really sucks, and I don’t know if I want to keep going through this process over and over.

Sometimes, I wonder why we even feel like we need a significant other in our lives to feel special. If we were successful individuals and just had casual sex to fulfill our carnal desires, would we be happy? Love involves so much sharing of yourself with someone who is essentially a stranger you try to become close to. Is it worth it?

As for me, it took a really long time before I found someone who I genuinely could see myself with for the rest of my life. No, things didn’t work out, but what we shared is enough to convince me to keep looking. From where I’m standing right now, I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone who I can share so much with and love so deeply. That’s what makes me so reluctant to let go of the tiny bit we have left. How can I give up any of that hope? How can I share what we’ve shared with anyone else?

We keep going because we have to. There is no other way.