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Friday, July 17, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Then and Now
For those that know me, it's no secret that I am the keeper of all significant dates. I don't quite know what it is, but I lean towards the theory that I am masochistic and must enjoy the pain of reliving certain events that especially brought me heartache. Instead of moving forward like normal people, I relive those moments as if it were yesterday.
February 16, 2003.
It was an already crappy weekend. Hubby at the time just came back from San Diego and right off the bat, something was up. It being Valentine's Day weekend, I was disappointed that things weren't lovey dovey as I had hoped...plus, it would've been our first as a married couple. When things needed to be discussed, it was his usual tendancy to clam up. Me, on the other hand, liked to talk things out...not right away, but yes, after a significant time that we should. He told me that he had something to tell me...and by the look on his face, I knew that it wasn't good news.
I was patient at first. But then, I got frustrated by his silence. It was then that I became persistent...probably annoyingly so to the point where I was just plain angry.
I finally blurted out, "What is it? Do you have a kid or something?!"
Silence.
He didn't need to say anything because the look on his face said it all. I couldn't believe it. I don't know why I said it. But I remember feeling as if I had the wind knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe because of the shock. And he just sat at the edge of the bed with his head down...ashamed. I don't know how much time had passed when I started screaming at him. I can't even recall the profanities that escaped my mouth, but I do remember throwing the remote control against the wall and slapping him hard. I wish I could've seen inside of his head...to feel what he was feeling as I was yelling at him. Because for me, I felt as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Did he feel that? Could he feel that?
It took me a while to calm down. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't be in the same room as him. I remember feeling so nauseated.
But I had to know the truth...I had to know about the child in question. Perhaps ex-hubby was scared of my reaction...maybe he was scared I'd hit him again because he kept his distance...but what followed next was something I was totally unprepared for. I asked him who the kid was and he had to correct me saying that there were TWO kids, not one. And in fact, I already knew who these kids were...they were the "nieces" that he's always talked about and prided himself about how close he felt to them. I've seen pictures and videos of these "nieces" before, but to find out that they were, indeed, his daughters left me speechless. Why didn't he tell me?
This revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't know how to handle it and my biggest mistake was not telling my family about it right away. How could I? I was embarrassed and ashamed. Embarrassed and ashamed because I SHOULD HAVE known something as important as my future husband having two grown daughters.
Ironically, we were already living in Foster City. I remember leaving the apartment and driving off. I didn't have a destination in mind, but I ended up at a random park in San Mateo. I sat at a bench for what seemed like hours and I remember watching all the people pass me by. I felt numb. I couldn't move. Even if I wanted to, I don't think my legs would've been able to support the weight of my own body. I DID make one call...and that was to my supervisor at work. As vaguely as I could, I told her that I was going through something very personal and that I wouldn't be able to make it in to work at all. It being President's Day weekend, I'd miss four days of school. I was so grateful to her because she didn't pry. Perhaps the request seemed so urgent and maybe the cracking of my voice gave it away, but she told me to take all the time that I needed. I never told anyone at work what happened...not right away anyways...but later on, I would hear the rumors going around about me that I never bothered to squash. The word was that I was pregnant and had a miscarriage. I heard it for myself and I let people believe it. No one asked questions and I preferred it that way.
Every year since then, February has been a trying month. The depression that plagued me for the next four years was no joke. It wasn't only psychological and emotional, the pain was also physical. Those four days that I didn't go to work was spent in bed. I was completely lethargic...I might as well died...because to me, at that moment, it was as if my world had stopped. You know how there are stages of grief and loss? Well, I skipped a lot of them and didn't handle my grief so well...and that is why I am screwed in the head. But when I had to return to work, I wore the smile that everyone expects of me and went about my day as normally as I could. No one would suspect anything was ever wrong and I intended to keep it that way.
Thank goodness that February is the shortest month! Since 2003, I dreaded February. I dreaded President's Weekend. I dreaded February 16th because my body would react automatically and plunge into this melancholic stupor that would last for days. Last year was different. I actually felt somewhat okay...and it was then that I realized that I was letting the pain, anger, and bitterness go. Don't get me wrong, I still have my moments. A movie, a song, a picture, or a letter could trigger my emotions so easily, but I knew that I had survived the worst. It DOES get better, by golly, but shit, did it have to take so freakin' long?
Little did I know back then that 2003 would only be the beginning of the end. I was hopeful that we could work it out, in fact, I wanted nothing more. I wanted to be that couple that withstood the drama and proved to everyone that yes, we would be okay. For a long time, I felt like a failure. I thought that if I forgave him just one more time...if I tried one more time. But lie after lie was killing me slowly and I became a whole different person that I no longer recognized. In the end, I HAD to leave. Leaving him and the effects thereafter has been, hands down, the toughest trial in my life.
February 16, 2009.
I woke up sad. Maybe it was habit. My body just knows. It was pouring rain out and I decided to go for a walk. I thought about him and everything that happened six years ago, but surprisingly so, there was no bitterness or anger. Again, maybe the sadness is out of habit. But then, I thought about the Music Maestro...yes, yes, I stated in my previous post that I would try harder to get over him, but that's when I started to feel down. I remember thinking to myself that wow, my luck with Valentine's Day would be different in 2009 because I have a boyfriend. Had.
I just finished watching "In The Land of Women" and the main character is heartbroken over a failed relationship. There's a line where Adam Brody's character shares that "...the further I get away from that (the drama with the girl), I'm not so sure that was real love..." Could that be me with the Music Maestro? I've gone on and on how I believed that he was THE ONE and yet, I find myself crying over him way too much than he deserves. There's definitely something wrong with this picture.
I AM okay...a tad melancholy...but nothing that a lil' retail therapy couldn't fix. So it wasn't clothes or shoes that I splurged on, but rather food and dvds...still. I guess I had to write about 2003 one more time 'cuz there is no way in hell that I'll be doing this again next year- lol. So what if it stings a little bit...what happened with the Music Maestro was like adding salt to the injury...but it heals in time as it always does. There's a lesson to be learned and though I may not know it at the moment, it shall all be revealed when it needs to be.
Happy anniversary to me...MnM is free. <3
For those that know me, it's no secret that I am the keeper of all significant dates. I don't quite know what it is, but I lean towards the theory that I am masochistic and must enjoy the pain of reliving certain events that especially brought me heartache. Instead of moving forward like normal people, I relive those moments as if it were yesterday.
February 16, 2003.
It was an already crappy weekend. Hubby at the time just came back from San Diego and right off the bat, something was up. It being Valentine's Day weekend, I was disappointed that things weren't lovey dovey as I had hoped...plus, it would've been our first as a married couple. When things needed to be discussed, it was his usual tendancy to clam up. Me, on the other hand, liked to talk things out...not right away, but yes, after a significant time that we should. He told me that he had something to tell me...and by the look on his face, I knew that it wasn't good news.
I was patient at first. But then, I got frustrated by his silence. It was then that I became persistent...probably annoyingly so to the point where I was just plain angry.
I finally blurted out, "What is it? Do you have a kid or something?!"
Silence.
He didn't need to say anything because the look on his face said it all. I couldn't believe it. I don't know why I said it. But I remember feeling as if I had the wind knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe because of the shock. And he just sat at the edge of the bed with his head down...ashamed. I don't know how much time had passed when I started screaming at him. I can't even recall the profanities that escaped my mouth, but I do remember throwing the remote control against the wall and slapping him hard. I wish I could've seen inside of his head...to feel what he was feeling as I was yelling at him. Because for me, I felt as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Did he feel that? Could he feel that?
It took me a while to calm down. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't be in the same room as him. I remember feeling so nauseated.
But I had to know the truth...I had to know about the child in question. Perhaps ex-hubby was scared of my reaction...maybe he was scared I'd hit him again because he kept his distance...but what followed next was something I was totally unprepared for. I asked him who the kid was and he had to correct me saying that there were TWO kids, not one. And in fact, I already knew who these kids were...they were the "nieces" that he's always talked about and prided himself about how close he felt to them. I've seen pictures and videos of these "nieces" before, but to find out that they were, indeed, his daughters left me speechless. Why didn't he tell me?
This revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't know how to handle it and my biggest mistake was not telling my family about it right away. How could I? I was embarrassed and ashamed. Embarrassed and ashamed because I SHOULD HAVE known something as important as my future husband having two grown daughters.
Ironically, we were already living in Foster City. I remember leaving the apartment and driving off. I didn't have a destination in mind, but I ended up at a random park in San Mateo. I sat at a bench for what seemed like hours and I remember watching all the people pass me by. I felt numb. I couldn't move. Even if I wanted to, I don't think my legs would've been able to support the weight of my own body. I DID make one call...and that was to my supervisor at work. As vaguely as I could, I told her that I was going through something very personal and that I wouldn't be able to make it in to work at all. It being President's Day weekend, I'd miss four days of school. I was so grateful to her because she didn't pry. Perhaps the request seemed so urgent and maybe the cracking of my voice gave it away, but she told me to take all the time that I needed. I never told anyone at work what happened...not right away anyways...but later on, I would hear the rumors going around about me that I never bothered to squash. The word was that I was pregnant and had a miscarriage. I heard it for myself and I let people believe it. No one asked questions and I preferred it that way.
Every year since then, February has been a trying month. The depression that plagued me for the next four years was no joke. It wasn't only psychological and emotional, the pain was also physical. Those four days that I didn't go to work was spent in bed. I was completely lethargic...I might as well died...because to me, at that moment, it was as if my world had stopped. You know how there are stages of grief and loss? Well, I skipped a lot of them and didn't handle my grief so well...and that is why I am screwed in the head. But when I had to return to work, I wore the smile that everyone expects of me and went about my day as normally as I could. No one would suspect anything was ever wrong and I intended to keep it that way.
Thank goodness that February is the shortest month! Since 2003, I dreaded February. I dreaded President's Weekend. I dreaded February 16th because my body would react automatically and plunge into this melancholic stupor that would last for days. Last year was different. I actually felt somewhat okay...and it was then that I realized that I was letting the pain, anger, and bitterness go. Don't get me wrong, I still have my moments. A movie, a song, a picture, or a letter could trigger my emotions so easily, but I knew that I had survived the worst. It DOES get better, by golly, but shit, did it have to take so freakin' long?
Little did I know back then that 2003 would only be the beginning of the end. I was hopeful that we could work it out, in fact, I wanted nothing more. I wanted to be that couple that withstood the drama and proved to everyone that yes, we would be okay. For a long time, I felt like a failure. I thought that if I forgave him just one more time...if I tried one more time. But lie after lie was killing me slowly and I became a whole different person that I no longer recognized. In the end, I HAD to leave. Leaving him and the effects thereafter has been, hands down, the toughest trial in my life.
February 16, 2009.
I woke up sad. Maybe it was habit. My body just knows. It was pouring rain out and I decided to go for a walk. I thought about him and everything that happened six years ago, but surprisingly so, there was no bitterness or anger. Again, maybe the sadness is out of habit. But then, I thought about the Music Maestro...yes, yes, I stated in my previous post that I would try harder to get over him, but that's when I started to feel down. I remember thinking to myself that wow, my luck with Valentine's Day would be different in 2009 because I have a boyfriend. Had.
I just finished watching "In The Land of Women" and the main character is heartbroken over a failed relationship. There's a line where Adam Brody's character shares that "...the further I get away from that (the drama with the girl), I'm not so sure that was real love..." Could that be me with the Music Maestro? I've gone on and on how I believed that he was THE ONE and yet, I find myself crying over him way too much than he deserves. There's definitely something wrong with this picture.
I AM okay...a tad melancholy...but nothing that a lil' retail therapy couldn't fix. So it wasn't clothes or shoes that I splurged on, but rather food and dvds...still. I guess I had to write about 2003 one more time 'cuz there is no way in hell that I'll be doing this again next year- lol. So what if it stings a little bit...what happened with the Music Maestro was like adding salt to the injury...but it heals in time as it always does. There's a lesson to be learned and though I may not know it at the moment, it shall all be revealed when it needs to be.
Happy anniversary to me...MnM is free. <3
Sunday, February 15, 2009
8:56pm
Valentine's Day. Bah. Humbug.
I don't know why I fall into the trap of wanting to celebrate this overly commercialized holiday when I know that it shouldn't just take one day out of the year to tell someone that you love 'em. I know. And yet, I've always been that girl who'd melt over the just-perfect card and get giddy over handpicked flowers.
I woke up feeling like shit. The night before, the exhaustion of parent-teacher conferences, my recent field trip, and the ever-so-boring teacher in-service hit me like a ton of bricks. My body was achy, my throat was sore, my head was throbbing, and my eyes just wanted to close. At 7pm-ish, I decided to take some Nyquil and call it a night. After 13 hours of sleep, you'd think it would've done me some good. Nada. I felt worse this morning, but I really didn't want to stay in bed all day. I forced myself to drive to Mickey D's for my morning coffee and I actually felt a little bit better.
It being V-Day, I knew that I wasn't up for any kind of company. I'm just not in the mood, surely ya'll can understand, right? It's funny 'cuz there are these 2 comments on my recent post and I have no idea who they are from. But the gist of their message was to "get over it" and "move on." Wise words and good intentions....but don't you think I'm trying?
Apparently not hard enough.
I've been a total couch potato today...either I was in front of the tv catching all of the lovey dovey Valentine flicks OR I was online updating my facebook. NOT as pathetic as it sounds...really. If you really should know, here is what I accomplished today.
1) I updated my MySpace account...took down the picture/slideshow of the Music Maestro and myself.
2) I updated this blog by removing the picture of us from Catalina Island.
3) I updated my facebook album cover so it wouldn't be him and me anymore.
It may seem so insignificant, but these were really huge steps for me. It took me a while to actually delete/remove them...and as for facebook, I didn't have the heart to completely erase them. It's a step in the right direction...not a question here, but a statement.
I DID have my giddy moment today...this, I must share. There's no shame in admitting that I've been looking online AGAIN...'cuz it's better than just moping around and boring my friends to death about the same old shit. (I am grateful that ya'll lend an ear, though...really!)
So I "met" this guy...lol. My friend Helene always laughs when I start my sentences like this. "Met" as in via email and actual phone call. No meeting in person because he's halfway across the country in Texas. Yessir...Texas. In a nutshell, he seems like a normal, decent guy. He's a college professor (and just to make sure, I even googled him...and there he was!). Anyways...he sent me flowers! It really wasn't a surprise that he sent them...'cuz he DID ask for my address...but the surprise was in the fact they came on time AND the arrangement was very beautiful- 4 red roses, 4 pink roses, and 4 yellow roses. I mean, he didn't have to...but he did. And it was really sweet of him...It definitely put a smile on my face and it did make me feel giddy. It was nice to have that warm fuzzy feeling inside again.
The rest of the day went on...more tv, more movies, more facebook...I swear, I was doing oh so well...until 8:56pm. It's not a magical or significant time; rather, I just happen to look at my watch when I was reaching for the tissue.
I went the entire day NOT really thinking about him...yet, a part of me HOPED that there would've been something in the mail from him. A part of me HOPED that I'd get an email or a text. Did you know that I had bought him a Valentine's Day right after New Year's? I was at Target (like that's a big surprise...) and V-Day cards just came out. I was walking by the display when one caught my attention. It was a cat maestro conducting...and it had all of the musical tempos- andante, fortissimo, pianissimo, pizzicato, adagio...it was the perfect card! Naturally, I bought it for him. Egads...there's actually quite a few cards that I've bought with the intention of giving them to him eventually. Not anymore! Ha. But my point is, there's so much that I equate with him...there's so many things that remind me of him...it's all around me and it drives me nuts! So when people (with good intentions) tell me to "just get over it" and "move on," I can't. It's easier said than done. And maybe if you truly understood how hard I fell for him, then you'd know just how hard it is to move on...
But I deleted his pictures today...again, a small step in the eyes of many; a huge step for My. Lol...sorry, that sounded so cheesy. As I deleted them, I felt my heart break a little bit and that's what triggered the tears. Then I got mad...mad that I allowed myself to cry over him today of all days.
I wonder if he thought about me at all today. I doubt it. He would've called if he wanted to.
"He's just not that into you, My."
Okay, okay...I hear ya'...and because he didn't call or contact me, I vow to try harder...starting today.
Valentine's Day. Bah. Humbug.
I don't know why I fall into the trap of wanting to celebrate this overly commercialized holiday when I know that it shouldn't just take one day out of the year to tell someone that you love 'em. I know. And yet, I've always been that girl who'd melt over the just-perfect card and get giddy over handpicked flowers.
I woke up feeling like shit. The night before, the exhaustion of parent-teacher conferences, my recent field trip, and the ever-so-boring teacher in-service hit me like a ton of bricks. My body was achy, my throat was sore, my head was throbbing, and my eyes just wanted to close. At 7pm-ish, I decided to take some Nyquil and call it a night. After 13 hours of sleep, you'd think it would've done me some good. Nada. I felt worse this morning, but I really didn't want to stay in bed all day. I forced myself to drive to Mickey D's for my morning coffee and I actually felt a little bit better.
It being V-Day, I knew that I wasn't up for any kind of company. I'm just not in the mood, surely ya'll can understand, right? It's funny 'cuz there are these 2 comments on my recent post and I have no idea who they are from. But the gist of their message was to "get over it" and "move on." Wise words and good intentions....but don't you think I'm trying?
Apparently not hard enough.
I've been a total couch potato today...either I was in front of the tv catching all of the lovey dovey Valentine flicks OR I was online updating my facebook. NOT as pathetic as it sounds...really. If you really should know, here is what I accomplished today.
1) I updated my MySpace account...took down the picture/slideshow of the Music Maestro and myself.
2) I updated this blog by removing the picture of us from Catalina Island.
3) I updated my facebook album cover so it wouldn't be him and me anymore.
It may seem so insignificant, but these were really huge steps for me. It took me a while to actually delete/remove them...and as for facebook, I didn't have the heart to completely erase them. It's a step in the right direction...not a question here, but a statement.
I DID have my giddy moment today...this, I must share. There's no shame in admitting that I've been looking online AGAIN...'cuz it's better than just moping around and boring my friends to death about the same old shit. (I am grateful that ya'll lend an ear, though...really!)
So I "met" this guy...lol. My friend Helene always laughs when I start my sentences like this. "Met" as in via email and actual phone call. No meeting in person because he's halfway across the country in Texas. Yessir...Texas. In a nutshell, he seems like a normal, decent guy. He's a college professor (and just to make sure, I even googled him...and there he was!). Anyways...he sent me flowers! It really wasn't a surprise that he sent them...'cuz he DID ask for my address...but the surprise was in the fact they came on time AND the arrangement was very beautiful- 4 red roses, 4 pink roses, and 4 yellow roses. I mean, he didn't have to...but he did. And it was really sweet of him...It definitely put a smile on my face and it did make me feel giddy. It was nice to have that warm fuzzy feeling inside again.
The rest of the day went on...more tv, more movies, more facebook...I swear, I was doing oh so well...until 8:56pm. It's not a magical or significant time; rather, I just happen to look at my watch when I was reaching for the tissue.
I went the entire day NOT really thinking about him...yet, a part of me HOPED that there would've been something in the mail from him. A part of me HOPED that I'd get an email or a text. Did you know that I had bought him a Valentine's Day right after New Year's? I was at Target (like that's a big surprise...) and V-Day cards just came out. I was walking by the display when one caught my attention. It was a cat maestro conducting...and it had all of the musical tempos- andante, fortissimo, pianissimo, pizzicato, adagio...it was the perfect card! Naturally, I bought it for him. Egads...there's actually quite a few cards that I've bought with the intention of giving them to him eventually. Not anymore! Ha. But my point is, there's so much that I equate with him...there's so many things that remind me of him...it's all around me and it drives me nuts! So when people (with good intentions) tell me to "just get over it" and "move on," I can't. It's easier said than done. And maybe if you truly understood how hard I fell for him, then you'd know just how hard it is to move on...
But I deleted his pictures today...again, a small step in the eyes of many; a huge step for My. Lol...sorry, that sounded so cheesy. As I deleted them, I felt my heart break a little bit and that's what triggered the tears. Then I got mad...mad that I allowed myself to cry over him today of all days.
I wonder if he thought about me at all today. I doubt it. He would've called if he wanted to.
"He's just not that into you, My."
Okay, okay...I hear ya'...and because he didn't call or contact me, I vow to try harder...starting today.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
You
...were the first person that I thought of the minute my last conference was over. As I packed my belongings, I automatically reached for my cell to check if anyone had called. For some odd reason, I secretly hoped there'd be a message from you...but why would there be one?
...were the one that I wanted to call this week. This week has been HELL and aside from my friends at work, I wanted to share my frustrations with you. I longed to hear your sarcastic comments about everything and I wanted to feel that acknowledging sympathy that only another teacher could feel. I wanted to ask your opinion on things, but I prided myself in the fact that not once did I call or text you. Why would I?
...were the one that I thought of as I sat in traffic. Driving south towards the Peninsula wasn't as bad as the congested traffic going north. I realized that today was Wednesday and had things been different, you would've been in your truck heading up my way in that very same traffic.
There are days when I miss you like crazy. It sounds pathetic, but sometimes I re-read some of your texts that I saved. It's eerie how one lil' text can bring the exact moment and situation to mind. Then, there are days when I have a "screw you" mentality. Eventually, I try and go about my day as if it's any other day....and then it feels as if we never went out in the first place. I get my "Twilight" moment of when Edward left Bella and says that it will be "as if he never existed." I can't quite put your pictures away and most of all, I continue to wear the pendant you gave me for Christmas.
With February being February, it's been an overall HELLish month. My body has automatically reacted and the result is pure discomfort and indescribably aches.
I'm told to just forget you...but I can't...yet. Honestly? I don't want to.
...were the first person that I thought of the minute my last conference was over. As I packed my belongings, I automatically reached for my cell to check if anyone had called. For some odd reason, I secretly hoped there'd be a message from you...but why would there be one?
...were the one that I wanted to call this week. This week has been HELL and aside from my friends at work, I wanted to share my frustrations with you. I longed to hear your sarcastic comments about everything and I wanted to feel that acknowledging sympathy that only another teacher could feel. I wanted to ask your opinion on things, but I prided myself in the fact that not once did I call or text you. Why would I?
...were the one that I thought of as I sat in traffic. Driving south towards the Peninsula wasn't as bad as the congested traffic going north. I realized that today was Wednesday and had things been different, you would've been in your truck heading up my way in that very same traffic.
There are days when I miss you like crazy. It sounds pathetic, but sometimes I re-read some of your texts that I saved. It's eerie how one lil' text can bring the exact moment and situation to mind. Then, there are days when I have a "screw you" mentality. Eventually, I try and go about my day as if it's any other day....and then it feels as if we never went out in the first place. I get my "Twilight" moment of when Edward left Bella and says that it will be "as if he never existed." I can't quite put your pictures away and most of all, I continue to wear the pendant you gave me for Christmas.
With February being February, it's been an overall HELLish month. My body has automatically reacted and the result is pure discomfort and indescribably aches.
I'm told to just forget you...but I can't...yet. Honestly? I don't want to.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Can't I...
...have the whole package?
I stayed home from work today. I had asked for the day off previously in order to recover from the Kaiser Half Marathon I was supposedly to have run yesterday. As it turns out, my knees and my lower back have been acting up...there would've been no way that I would've finished the run without seriously injuring myself. I thought I was cool, going for simple runs here and there, but with all of the personal drama that is the soap opera of my life, I was not mentally prepared. And you know what they say...it's usually 90% mental and 10% physical. Or something like that. Either way, the whole Music Maestro thing put me outta whack and my marathon prep went out the door. Dammit...I was pretty bummed and disappointed that I didn't participate, but I know that there will be other ones soon to come.
Anyways, I caught an episode of Gilmore Girls this morning. How I love reruns of this show...nevermind that I have most of the seasons on DVD- lol! Anyways, for those who aren't fans, it basically centers around a mother-daughter relationship...the ups and downs of their lives...the struggles of being a single mom...etc. The mom had the daughter at 16 years old, never married the father, but was still able to raise a great kid all on her own. In this particular episode, the mom and dad seemed to be getting back together. It's been years and while they've maintained contact for the sake of the kid, they had led separate lives until now. They talked about being a family...being together as they should have been...talking about making up the years they lost, etc. Just when you think a happy ending is close at hand, the inevitable happens. Turns out dad's soon-to-be ex-girlfriend is pregnant...and wanting to do the right thing, he decides to stay with her and forego his plans of reuniting with his daughter's mother.
It's heartbreaking...because all this time, you're rooting for Lorelei, the mom. You WANT her to be happy because she's definitely had her share of heartbreak. She's always wanted that family unit, even though she was content that it was her and her daughter for so long.
In the end, she's sad and crying. She laments her situation. Yes, she IS lucky to have her daughter. Yes, she IS thankful for her home and job. Yes, she IS grateful for wonderful friends who support and love her no matter what. Yet, there's something that's missing that makes her feel incomplete. She wants the WHOLE package.
I want the whole package, too.
There is so much that I have to be thankful for...and I truly am. I've been wonderfully blessed to be in the situation that I am. Yes, I've gone through my own hardships and continue to work my way from the bottom up...but there's something missing. Not that I'm saying that I NEED someone to complete me...it would just be nice.
Ya'll have heard me say (over and over again...) that I thought the Music Maestro was the one for me. I still do in some ways, but I can't allow myself to brood over him (as much as I already have...). Aside from the obvious romantic relationship that I had with him, the one thing that I truly miss...is his companionship.
I miss talking and hanging out. I miss watching tv with him and I miss sitting next to him on the couch with the dog at our feet. I miss setting the table as he prepared dinner and I miss watching him drink from his wine glass as he cooked away. I miss taking walks with him to Starbucks or just even to take the dog out. I miss riding in his car...and even though I wasn't a fan, I even miss listening to Howard Stern. I miss the times when he'd put on regular music and he's try to groove with the beat...keyword is try- lol. I miss everything about him...
It sounds pathetic, I know...but I miss the friendship the most. I'm going through withdrawals because I have so much damn time on my hands....which is why I did the unthinkable...
I started browsing online again- LOL. Egads. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but honestly, I'm not ready for it. I am craving the attention that he used to give me, but woe to the dude that comes after him! Poor guy won't have a chance. Without intentionally doing so, I KNOW that I'm looking for the Music Maestro again. And at this point, no one can compare. This SO sucks.
So through this entire rant and rave, I still find myself bummed. I forgot how hard breakups can be. Just like in Gilmore Girls, I am good...I'm thankful for all that I have...but what's wrong with wanting the whole package? Nothing, right? People tell me it'll happen when it happens...in due time...just be patient...blah blah blah.
I know...it's just not easy is all I'm saying.
...have the whole package?
I stayed home from work today. I had asked for the day off previously in order to recover from the Kaiser Half Marathon I was supposedly to have run yesterday. As it turns out, my knees and my lower back have been acting up...there would've been no way that I would've finished the run without seriously injuring myself. I thought I was cool, going for simple runs here and there, but with all of the personal drama that is the soap opera of my life, I was not mentally prepared. And you know what they say...it's usually 90% mental and 10% physical. Or something like that. Either way, the whole Music Maestro thing put me outta whack and my marathon prep went out the door. Dammit...I was pretty bummed and disappointed that I didn't participate, but I know that there will be other ones soon to come.
Anyways, I caught an episode of Gilmore Girls this morning. How I love reruns of this show...nevermind that I have most of the seasons on DVD- lol! Anyways, for those who aren't fans, it basically centers around a mother-daughter relationship...the ups and downs of their lives...the struggles of being a single mom...etc. The mom had the daughter at 16 years old, never married the father, but was still able to raise a great kid all on her own. In this particular episode, the mom and dad seemed to be getting back together. It's been years and while they've maintained contact for the sake of the kid, they had led separate lives until now. They talked about being a family...being together as they should have been...talking about making up the years they lost, etc. Just when you think a happy ending is close at hand, the inevitable happens. Turns out dad's soon-to-be ex-girlfriend is pregnant...and wanting to do the right thing, he decides to stay with her and forego his plans of reuniting with his daughter's mother.
It's heartbreaking...because all this time, you're rooting for Lorelei, the mom. You WANT her to be happy because she's definitely had her share of heartbreak. She's always wanted that family unit, even though she was content that it was her and her daughter for so long.
In the end, she's sad and crying. She laments her situation. Yes, she IS lucky to have her daughter. Yes, she IS thankful for her home and job. Yes, she IS grateful for wonderful friends who support and love her no matter what. Yet, there's something that's missing that makes her feel incomplete. She wants the WHOLE package.
I want the whole package, too.
There is so much that I have to be thankful for...and I truly am. I've been wonderfully blessed to be in the situation that I am. Yes, I've gone through my own hardships and continue to work my way from the bottom up...but there's something missing. Not that I'm saying that I NEED someone to complete me...it would just be nice.
Ya'll have heard me say (over and over again...) that I thought the Music Maestro was the one for me. I still do in some ways, but I can't allow myself to brood over him (as much as I already have...). Aside from the obvious romantic relationship that I had with him, the one thing that I truly miss...is his companionship.
I miss talking and hanging out. I miss watching tv with him and I miss sitting next to him on the couch with the dog at our feet. I miss setting the table as he prepared dinner and I miss watching him drink from his wine glass as he cooked away. I miss taking walks with him to Starbucks or just even to take the dog out. I miss riding in his car...and even though I wasn't a fan, I even miss listening to Howard Stern. I miss the times when he'd put on regular music and he's try to groove with the beat...keyword is try- lol. I miss everything about him...
It sounds pathetic, I know...but I miss the friendship the most. I'm going through withdrawals because I have so much damn time on my hands....which is why I did the unthinkable...
I started browsing online again- LOL. Egads. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but honestly, I'm not ready for it. I am craving the attention that he used to give me, but woe to the dude that comes after him! Poor guy won't have a chance. Without intentionally doing so, I KNOW that I'm looking for the Music Maestro again. And at this point, no one can compare. This SO sucks.
So through this entire rant and rave, I still find myself bummed. I forgot how hard breakups can be. Just like in Gilmore Girls, I am good...I'm thankful for all that I have...but what's wrong with wanting the whole package? Nothing, right? People tell me it'll happen when it happens...in due time...just be patient...blah blah blah.
I know...it's just not easy is all I'm saying.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I Get It...
I just finished reading "He's Just Not That Into You" by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. The movie with the same name is coming out next week, just in time for Valentine's Day. I've been telling people that is how I'm going to spend that overly commercialized holiday- watching this movie in the theaters solo.
It was a random and impulsive buy at Target. I was roaming the dvd aisles like I always do and I saw the book. I didn't even bother to check the price, but I did check to make sure none of the pages were bent or folded...my usual once over for any books that I purchase.
Later on that night as I settled into bed, I realized that it wasn't based on the movie script, but rather, it was more like a self-help book. I read all the forewords and right away, I knew that it'd be a quick read. The authors are actual writers/editors/consultants for Sex in the City...AND here's a quick random fact for ya'll...they are the ones who coined the phrase, "He's just not that into you." Now we know where it came from...
Right away, the vibe of the book caters to single women who are treading water (and perhaps even drowning) in the deep and open waters of dating. I shit you not, but I can very much relate to A LOT of the things I read about...and I thought that was pretty darn scary (and sad).
First of all, it's a huge comfort to know that I'm not the only one who chooses losers for boyfriends. Okay, maybe that's a tad bit harsh...forgive me...I'm still in "angry and pissed off mode" over the Music Maestro. NOT that I'm making an excuse for his behavior, but I don't necessarily think he is or ever will be a "loser." He's a really great guy...talented, smart, funny...hurt, lost, confused...but not a loser...
However, what I read on p.125 made me want to circle, underline, and highlight the following,
"You are going to meet many men in many different stages of recovering from relationships. If he is really into you, he will get over his issues fast and make sure he doesn't lose you. Or he will make it clear to you how he feels, so there's no mystery, and tell you up front that he's not up to it right now. And then you can best be sure, the minute he is ready, he will run out and find you. YOU ARE NOT EASILY FORGETTABLE."
I honest to goodness believed that the Music Maestro was THE guy. Seriously. On the surface, it was a relationship in its early stages. We only went out for 7 months. BUT, considering what we both went through previously, the timing and the things that transpired, seemed so right. But after zooming through this book, I realized that yes, he WAS into me...but now and currently, he is NOT...no longer.
The book made me laugh out loud...there were moments where I had to repeat lines out loud so I can hear it for myself...and yes, the truth hurt...like hell.
A lot of it seems so simple...yet, when we are overcome by emotion and when you are ME, the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, it is difficult to see things for what they really are. And yes, even though your family and friends see it and point out the obvious, I'm one of those who have to come to the conclusions herself...even if it DOES take a tad longer than people expect. Either I'm stubborn or just slow....perhaps both...crap.
At the end of each chapter, there's a section entitled, "Things You Should've Learned In This Chapter." I just wanted to list some that resonated...and really, I think I found them more validating and encouraging, if anything. So here goes.
Things I Should've Learned...
*If you can find him, then he can find you. If he wants to find you, he will.
*Men don't forget how much they like you. So put down that phone.
*If he's not calling you, it's because you are not on his mind.
*Better than nothing is NOT good enough for you!
*Your lost self-esteem may take longer to find than a new boyfriend.
*Breakup sex still means you're broken up.
*Cut him off. Let him miss you.
*He doesn't need to be reminded that you're great.
*Don't give him the chance to reject you again.
*There's a guy out there who's going to be really happy that you didn't get back together with your crappy ex-boyfriend.
*You ARE good enough to be asked out.
It's been a month since I last saw him...and there's not a day that passes that I don't think about him. I wonder if he thinks about me...or if he misses me at all. Apparently, I am wasting my time. I am having a hard time letting go...but you'd be relieved to know that I'm moving on, however slow as it may be. Unfortunately, I know this whole break-up has affected my work. My piles of papers are stacked so high, it's ridiculous! I'm so thankful for Ethan's Mommy 'cuz she is the first one I see at school...she's the one who sees my red, puffy eyes..and she has a knack for knowing when to ask how things are, when NOT to ask, when to listen, and what to say. So thanks Lily...you're my true bud!
I've taken down most of his pictures, but I'm conflicted on whether or not I should delete them from my facebook/myspace/blog...I can't do it just yet. Even though we are no longer together, it hasn't changed the way I feel about him. What's makes it all so hard isn't just the fact that he decided to call it quits, but it's the fact that I've got to start all over...AGAIN. It's emotionally draining...and by golly, it hurts like a mf. I don't know if my heart can handle any more heartache!
But I should stop with my pity party, as one of my good friends pointed out. I should re-read all of those lessons I should've learned. The optimistic side of me continues to hope that the Music Maestro WILL find me when he's ready...but for now, I get it. I've heard it loud and clear.
I just finished reading "He's Just Not That Into You" by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. The movie with the same name is coming out next week, just in time for Valentine's Day. I've been telling people that is how I'm going to spend that overly commercialized holiday- watching this movie in the theaters solo.
It was a random and impulsive buy at Target. I was roaming the dvd aisles like I always do and I saw the book. I didn't even bother to check the price, but I did check to make sure none of the pages were bent or folded...my usual once over for any books that I purchase.
Later on that night as I settled into bed, I realized that it wasn't based on the movie script, but rather, it was more like a self-help book. I read all the forewords and right away, I knew that it'd be a quick read. The authors are actual writers/editors/consultants for Sex in the City...AND here's a quick random fact for ya'll...they are the ones who coined the phrase, "He's just not that into you." Now we know where it came from...
Right away, the vibe of the book caters to single women who are treading water (and perhaps even drowning) in the deep and open waters of dating. I shit you not, but I can very much relate to A LOT of the things I read about...and I thought that was pretty darn scary (and sad).
First of all, it's a huge comfort to know that I'm not the only one who chooses losers for boyfriends. Okay, maybe that's a tad bit harsh...forgive me...I'm still in "angry and pissed off mode" over the Music Maestro. NOT that I'm making an excuse for his behavior, but I don't necessarily think he is or ever will be a "loser." He's a really great guy...talented, smart, funny...hurt, lost, confused...but not a loser...
However, what I read on p.125 made me want to circle, underline, and highlight the following,
"You are going to meet many men in many different stages of recovering from relationships. If he is really into you, he will get over his issues fast and make sure he doesn't lose you. Or he will make it clear to you how he feels, so there's no mystery, and tell you up front that he's not up to it right now. And then you can best be sure, the minute he is ready, he will run out and find you. YOU ARE NOT EASILY FORGETTABLE."
I honest to goodness believed that the Music Maestro was THE guy. Seriously. On the surface, it was a relationship in its early stages. We only went out for 7 months. BUT, considering what we both went through previously, the timing and the things that transpired, seemed so right. But after zooming through this book, I realized that yes, he WAS into me...but now and currently, he is NOT...no longer.
The book made me laugh out loud...there were moments where I had to repeat lines out loud so I can hear it for myself...and yes, the truth hurt...like hell.
A lot of it seems so simple...yet, when we are overcome by emotion and when you are ME, the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, it is difficult to see things for what they really are. And yes, even though your family and friends see it and point out the obvious, I'm one of those who have to come to the conclusions herself...even if it DOES take a tad longer than people expect. Either I'm stubborn or just slow....perhaps both...crap.
At the end of each chapter, there's a section entitled, "Things You Should've Learned In This Chapter." I just wanted to list some that resonated...and really, I think I found them more validating and encouraging, if anything. So here goes.
Things I Should've Learned...
*If you can find him, then he can find you. If he wants to find you, he will.
*Men don't forget how much they like you. So put down that phone.
*If he's not calling you, it's because you are not on his mind.
*Better than nothing is NOT good enough for you!
*Your lost self-esteem may take longer to find than a new boyfriend.
*Breakup sex still means you're broken up.
*Cut him off. Let him miss you.
*He doesn't need to be reminded that you're great.
*Don't give him the chance to reject you again.
*There's a guy out there who's going to be really happy that you didn't get back together with your crappy ex-boyfriend.
*You ARE good enough to be asked out.
It's been a month since I last saw him...and there's not a day that passes that I don't think about him. I wonder if he thinks about me...or if he misses me at all. Apparently, I am wasting my time. I am having a hard time letting go...but you'd be relieved to know that I'm moving on, however slow as it may be. Unfortunately, I know this whole break-up has affected my work. My piles of papers are stacked so high, it's ridiculous! I'm so thankful for Ethan's Mommy 'cuz she is the first one I see at school...she's the one who sees my red, puffy eyes..and she has a knack for knowing when to ask how things are, when NOT to ask, when to listen, and what to say. So thanks Lily...you're my true bud!
I've taken down most of his pictures, but I'm conflicted on whether or not I should delete them from my facebook/myspace/blog...I can't do it just yet. Even though we are no longer together, it hasn't changed the way I feel about him. What's makes it all so hard isn't just the fact that he decided to call it quits, but it's the fact that I've got to start all over...AGAIN. It's emotionally draining...and by golly, it hurts like a mf. I don't know if my heart can handle any more heartache!
But I should stop with my pity party, as one of my good friends pointed out. I should re-read all of those lessons I should've learned. The optimistic side of me continues to hope that the Music Maestro WILL find me when he's ready...but for now, I get it. I've heard it loud and clear.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Kuya Sam
I thought about you today, knowing that your birthday is tomorrow. You would've been 39 years old. It hurts to think that the last time I saw you, you were already gone from us. How I wished that I was able to say goodbye to you! I distinctly remember getting the phone call...I was devastated. You were, after all, the kuya that always had my back. You always had time for me along with a big hug and mischievous smile. You seemed to always know when something wasn't quite right with me and you'd cheer me up with one of your stories that would usually leave me with the same comment out of my mouth, "Oh no, you didn't!"
I don't recall the flight down to Southern California. All I know is that I dreaded seeing you. I wasn't quite ready to see you for the last time. I came with Caramello and as we walked up that long aisle to where you lay, my body trembled. The tears filled my eyes and I had trouble breathing. I've never had a close friend of mine die before. When I finally saw you, I was jolted by how you were dressed...you were in a sports jersey! That took me by surprise and I had to laugh...which everyone pretty much did...but after that, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. You looked so peaceful. I wonder if you heard my thoughts that day...I shared many things with you that day, as if we were having our usual conversations...I shared because I missed you and I wanted you to know what was going on with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been standing with you, talking with you, crying...because Caramello had to pull me away. I didn't want to go just yet because I wanted more time.
Your memorial service was SO you...full of laughter and good memories. Of course tears were shed, but mostly, it was because someone shared a story that had us rolling in the aisles! One by one, people went up and spoke about you. Your family loved the story about how Likha peoples nicknamed you "Tiny Bubbles!" I didn't go up, but I wanted to. I wanted to tell everyone what a great friend you were to me...and how I would always consider you my big brother.
So I was thinking about you...and wishing I could tell you what's been up with me lately. I would've loved to share about the Music Maestro...and boy, you would've thought he was cute! lol! I probably would've had to endure all of your joking comments, "Well honey, get out of the way so I can get a piece of that!" Or, when I would've told you that we were taking a "break" because he needed time...or that he just cut me off completely because things were becoming too much for him...I could honestly hear you tell me, "Gurrrlllll....it's time to move on!" "He ain't worth your time, honey...." "Oh NO, he didn't!" Yet, all kidding aside, you probably would've took me aside and let me cry on your shoulder, too...
It's been two years since your passing and I still miss you terribly. You were too young to be taken. But when I think about you, it's always with love, laughter, and believe it or not, it's with a Janet Jackson song in the background! You're definitely not forgotten...miss and love you lots...
I thought about you today, knowing that your birthday is tomorrow. You would've been 39 years old. It hurts to think that the last time I saw you, you were already gone from us. How I wished that I was able to say goodbye to you! I distinctly remember getting the phone call...I was devastated. You were, after all, the kuya that always had my back. You always had time for me along with a big hug and mischievous smile. You seemed to always know when something wasn't quite right with me and you'd cheer me up with one of your stories that would usually leave me with the same comment out of my mouth, "Oh no, you didn't!"
I don't recall the flight down to Southern California. All I know is that I dreaded seeing you. I wasn't quite ready to see you for the last time. I came with Caramello and as we walked up that long aisle to where you lay, my body trembled. The tears filled my eyes and I had trouble breathing. I've never had a close friend of mine die before. When I finally saw you, I was jolted by how you were dressed...you were in a sports jersey! That took me by surprise and I had to laugh...which everyone pretty much did...but after that, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. You looked so peaceful. I wonder if you heard my thoughts that day...I shared many things with you that day, as if we were having our usual conversations...I shared because I missed you and I wanted you to know what was going on with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been standing with you, talking with you, crying...because Caramello had to pull me away. I didn't want to go just yet because I wanted more time.
Your memorial service was SO you...full of laughter and good memories. Of course tears were shed, but mostly, it was because someone shared a story that had us rolling in the aisles! One by one, people went up and spoke about you. Your family loved the story about how Likha peoples nicknamed you "Tiny Bubbles!" I didn't go up, but I wanted to. I wanted to tell everyone what a great friend you were to me...and how I would always consider you my big brother.
So I was thinking about you...and wishing I could tell you what's been up with me lately. I would've loved to share about the Music Maestro...and boy, you would've thought he was cute! lol! I probably would've had to endure all of your joking comments, "Well honey, get out of the way so I can get a piece of that!" Or, when I would've told you that we were taking a "break" because he needed time...or that he just cut me off completely because things were becoming too much for him...I could honestly hear you tell me, "Gurrrlllll....it's time to move on!" "He ain't worth your time, honey...." "Oh NO, he didn't!" Yet, all kidding aside, you probably would've took me aside and let me cry on your shoulder, too...
It's been two years since your passing and I still miss you terribly. You were too young to be taken. But when I think about you, it's always with love, laughter, and believe it or not, it's with a Janet Jackson song in the background! You're definitely not forgotten...miss and love you lots...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Sun Shines Again...
I was nervous to make the call. I was debating whether or not I should make the call at all. I questioned my intentions and honestly asked myself if I could handle possible disappointment. I could've easily written an email or sent a text, but what I really wanted, more than anything at that moment, was to hear his voice. After a ridiculous and almost hysterical back and forth of "Should I?," I pressed the speed dial number and waited.
I got his voicemail.
In a way, I was hoping for it, but at the same time, I wasn't prepared to leave a message. Is it me or do I always sound like a huge dork on answering machines? I didn't realize how nervous I was until my voice somewhat croaked at my hello. Yes, croaked. My message was simple and after I ended my call, I wondered if I talked too fast or if my voice left any indication of my nervousness. I grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed out my frustrations. Don't ever tell me that I am not a courteous neighbor...
At first, I just sat on my couch relieved. It was over. I did it. The ball, as they say, was in his court. But as I settled into the rest of my evening, not five minutes passed when my cell went off with the familiar and specific ring tone...it was him!
I was nervous and fingers trembled. I couldn't open my flip phone the first try! But when I did, I took a deep breath and as calmly as I could, said hi. For the next 10 minutes or so, we talked and we laughed. We updated each other on how our first week of school after vacation went and how relaxing it was to just do nothing for the past two weeks. Ha...I sure did a whole lot of nothing! But anyways...not the point. The point is that we talked...and it was comfortable...it was nice...and it left me giddy. Giddy, as in, it reminded me of when we first started going out. Giddy, as in, I had this huge smile on my face afterwards. Giddy, as in, I could feel the dark cloud slowly disappearing and I hoped that his dark cloud was disappearing, too. It was so wonderful to hear his voice and for me, it was easy to imagine his facial expressions as he talked. I pictured him on the couch with the dog at his feet.
Despite whatever it is that we're going through, the thought of him always makes me smile...and sure enough, I'm really glad I made the call.
I was nervous to make the call. I was debating whether or not I should make the call at all. I questioned my intentions and honestly asked myself if I could handle possible disappointment. I could've easily written an email or sent a text, but what I really wanted, more than anything at that moment, was to hear his voice. After a ridiculous and almost hysterical back and forth of "Should I?," I pressed the speed dial number and waited.
I got his voicemail.
In a way, I was hoping for it, but at the same time, I wasn't prepared to leave a message. Is it me or do I always sound like a huge dork on answering machines? I didn't realize how nervous I was until my voice somewhat croaked at my hello. Yes, croaked. My message was simple and after I ended my call, I wondered if I talked too fast or if my voice left any indication of my nervousness. I grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed out my frustrations. Don't ever tell me that I am not a courteous neighbor...
At first, I just sat on my couch relieved. It was over. I did it. The ball, as they say, was in his court. But as I settled into the rest of my evening, not five minutes passed when my cell went off with the familiar and specific ring tone...it was him!
I was nervous and fingers trembled. I couldn't open my flip phone the first try! But when I did, I took a deep breath and as calmly as I could, said hi. For the next 10 minutes or so, we talked and we laughed. We updated each other on how our first week of school after vacation went and how relaxing it was to just do nothing for the past two weeks. Ha...I sure did a whole lot of nothing! But anyways...not the point. The point is that we talked...and it was comfortable...it was nice...and it left me giddy. Giddy, as in, it reminded me of when we first started going out. Giddy, as in, I had this huge smile on my face afterwards. Giddy, as in, I could feel the dark cloud slowly disappearing and I hoped that his dark cloud was disappearing, too. It was so wonderful to hear his voice and for me, it was easy to imagine his facial expressions as he talked. I pictured him on the couch with the dog at his feet.
Despite whatever it is that we're going through, the thought of him always makes me smile...and sure enough, I'm really glad I made the call.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Selfish
I feel awful. I've been having these bouts of selfishness lately, but more times than not, I honestly believe that I am entitled.
Wait...that's not right. This will sound insane because whenever I try to convey what's going on in my screwed up head, it never comes out quite right. I'll give it a shot. ----> People are naturally selfish- we can't help it. The difference is the amount of selfishness contained (can't think of a better word at the moment) in each individual. I don't consider myself to be an overly selfish person, but I think that trait is the reason why I find myself in certain compromising situations. It feels wrong to say this, but maybe I'm not selfish enough...
The more that I think about it, it almost sounds like I'm stupid to be selfish and I'm stupid to NOT be selfish. The lines are becoming a bit of a blur. One example that quickly comes to mind is the decision to serve on a mission trip. On one hand, I have this desire to give something back to God. I figure, He took good care of me when I needed Him the most that the least that I could do is to give MY help to someone who needs it. On the other hand, I have this huge fear that something terrible will happen to me and I'm not sure if I'm ready to die just yet. But see, the thing is, I should have stronger faith than that in God...
How about when someone shares some life-changing news? I'm easily excitable and I will find myself ecstatic for them, but then it starts to creep up on me and I find myself becoming envious and bitter. Shouldn't I just be happy for them, 'nuff said? I should.
I've been trying to keep myself busy lately...watching my dvr'd shows, surfing the net, catching up with my peoples on facebook, and reading. Notice I didn't mention anything about staying up late correcting papers? I've been having the most difficult time getting back into the routine of school. I've discreetly covered my piles of uncorrected papers with non-school paraphernalia. That way, when my eyes do glance in that direction, I'll be distracted and not give those stacks a second thought that I should go through them. Clever, eh? Lol...pretty stupid, too.
I've been determined to stop myself from dreaming. I find that when I am wiped out and completely exhausted, I have a dreamless sleep. For as long as I can remember, I've been able to recall my dreams, both good and bad, quite vividly. Whatever (or whomever) it is that I am thinking of before I surrender to sleep will somehow continue into my subconsciousness and materialize in my dream. With that said, I've been willing myself to NOT dream. I'm just not in the mood for any more sadness.
Has it worked? Not as much as I'd like. Now that school has been back in session, my body starts to shut down at a certain time. I'm tired, but not tired enough to avoid dreaming. Then, I wake up feeling even more awful than I did before I slept and that, of course, affects my entire morning.
And now, with the insufficient amount of sleep, I can't express myself quite as clearly as I would like. My thoughts are in this huge jumble of a mess and by the time I think I've found the words, the feeling and intensity of what I thought and felt is gone.
I don't know...maybe it's because it's Wednesday. A lot of good things happened on a Wednesday...but a lot of bad things happened on a Wednesday, too. I'm happy, yet I'm sad. I'm ok, but I'm not. I'm so conflicted. Not quite sure what to do...but in the meantime, I guess I'll just be.
I feel awful. I've been having these bouts of selfishness lately, but more times than not, I honestly believe that I am entitled.
Wait...that's not right. This will sound insane because whenever I try to convey what's going on in my screwed up head, it never comes out quite right. I'll give it a shot. ----> People are naturally selfish- we can't help it. The difference is the amount of selfishness contained (can't think of a better word at the moment) in each individual. I don't consider myself to be an overly selfish person, but I think that trait is the reason why I find myself in certain compromising situations. It feels wrong to say this, but maybe I'm not selfish enough...
The more that I think about it, it almost sounds like I'm stupid to be selfish and I'm stupid to NOT be selfish. The lines are becoming a bit of a blur. One example that quickly comes to mind is the decision to serve on a mission trip. On one hand, I have this desire to give something back to God. I figure, He took good care of me when I needed Him the most that the least that I could do is to give MY help to someone who needs it. On the other hand, I have this huge fear that something terrible will happen to me and I'm not sure if I'm ready to die just yet. But see, the thing is, I should have stronger faith than that in God...
How about when someone shares some life-changing news? I'm easily excitable and I will find myself ecstatic for them, but then it starts to creep up on me and I find myself becoming envious and bitter. Shouldn't I just be happy for them, 'nuff said? I should.
I've been trying to keep myself busy lately...watching my dvr'd shows, surfing the net, catching up with my peoples on facebook, and reading. Notice I didn't mention anything about staying up late correcting papers? I've been having the most difficult time getting back into the routine of school. I've discreetly covered my piles of uncorrected papers with non-school paraphernalia. That way, when my eyes do glance in that direction, I'll be distracted and not give those stacks a second thought that I should go through them. Clever, eh? Lol...pretty stupid, too.
I've been determined to stop myself from dreaming. I find that when I am wiped out and completely exhausted, I have a dreamless sleep. For as long as I can remember, I've been able to recall my dreams, both good and bad, quite vividly. Whatever (or whomever) it is that I am thinking of before I surrender to sleep will somehow continue into my subconsciousness and materialize in my dream. With that said, I've been willing myself to NOT dream. I'm just not in the mood for any more sadness.
Has it worked? Not as much as I'd like. Now that school has been back in session, my body starts to shut down at a certain time. I'm tired, but not tired enough to avoid dreaming. Then, I wake up feeling even more awful than I did before I slept and that, of course, affects my entire morning.
And now, with the insufficient amount of sleep, I can't express myself quite as clearly as I would like. My thoughts are in this huge jumble of a mess and by the time I think I've found the words, the feeling and intensity of what I thought and felt is gone.
I don't know...maybe it's because it's Wednesday. A lot of good things happened on a Wednesday...but a lot of bad things happened on a Wednesday, too. I'm happy, yet I'm sad. I'm ok, but I'm not. I'm so conflicted. Not quite sure what to do...but in the meantime, I guess I'll just be.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
The Question Is...
How do you get over the love of your life?
This is something that I've pondered many a sleepless night. I've often mistaken the answer to be found in self-help books and websites. I've probably picked the brain of almost everyone I've known and yet, there was never one answer that was constant in the responses given. I've had mental debates inside my own head for far too long and to be quite honest, I've succeeded in driving myself completely insane. This question has plagued me to the point where it began eating away at my insides. It left this gaping hole in me creating such a hollow emptiness that, at times, made it impossible to breathe and to just be.
I felt that no one understood what I was going through and perhaps, it was partly my fault for not letting anyone in. The only way I could keep my head above water was to write. It became my refuge of sorts. Upon looking back at some of my writings, I almost feel like a stranger intruding on someone's private thoughts...it's difficult to recognize the writer as myself. The pain of those moments come back, but the blows are not as striking as before.
I married the love of my life. To me, he was my dream come true. He was everything that I wanted...and more. I loved that we were partners in crime in all that we did- we made a good team. We clicked in a way that I've never clicked with anyone before. When I was with him, there was never a doubt in my mind that I was loved. I looked forward to spending the rest of my life with him and it seemed like I was on my way.
But the fairytale had to come to an end and as my luck would have it, it was just too good to be true. I didn't doubt that he loved me, but the neverending lies were just too much to bear. I was left with my heart shattered in millions of pieces and for a long time, I was lost. I didn't know how to pick up the pieces...I wasn't even sure that I wanted to. Because it would mean that I would have to start all over again- without him- and I couldn't bear that thought.
How do you get over the love of your life?
There is no one answer to that question, but with having gone through this emotional and psychological debacle firsthand, this is all I could offer. First and foremost, there is a lot of crying involved. A lot. Neverending pools. Rivers. Tidal waves. You get the point. If there aren't any tears, something is wrong. Because when you lose the love of your life, there is a part of you that dies. And with any kind of death, there is this unbearable sadness that overwhelms you. I cried every night for four years...FOUR YEARS. But I did it in secret because I didn't want anyone to know how sad I was...I didn't want people to know that I wasn't handling it.
Secondly, you need a support system. This is the one thing that I wish I had when I was in Minnesota. When the opportunity to move to Minnesota came up, I grabbed at it without thinking. At that time, no one knew the depth of our problems and I just wanted to disappear. I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle anything with people breathing down my neck...because I knew that everyone would want me to leave...but I seriously believed that I could make it work. I was stupid to believe that I could do it all on my own. I was so lonely out there. I was surrounded by so many good people, all of whom could NOT help me. Phone calls home to family and friends helped, but it wasn't enough. I lost touch with the friends that I loved the most and it hurt that I didn't have them to turn to. Even though I talked to my sister every day, it wasn't the same. Each time I would come to California to visit, there were always tears as I would leave. It was so hard to be away. I didn't have the support system of family and friends...but I did have God. Never in my whole entire life have I turned to Him so often and so urgently. But He helped me...and in my most chaotic times, He helped to calm and quiet me down. He became my support...He became my everything.
Third, you need to separate yourself from the situation. Distance helps. Thousands of miles works. Hell, moving out of state halfway across the country is ideal. If I didn't leave Minnesota, I would still be lost. I HAD to leave...there was no other option. I was dying every day. Leaving was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make...saying goodbye to him was hard enough...but saying goodbye to him AND the girls who happened to be there for the summer tore my heart out of my chest. There were so many moments when I changed my mind to stay..."I could do this and work through all of this shit," I kept telling myself. But I had reached the breaking point and in order to keep me sane, I had to go.
Lastly, you need to get all of the anger out of your system and forgive. But how do you forgive the one person you vowed to love forever who hurt you in the most painful and terrible way? How do you get past what they did? How do you let it go? I am a dweller. I dwelled A LOT on what happened. I replayed everything in my mind, trying to make sense of it all, but always coming up short. But to this very day, I still have so many unanswered questions. But I finally took a step back, almost like an out-of-body experience, and saw what kind of a person I was becoming. I was angry ALL THE TIME. I cried ALL THE TIME. I was sad ALL THE TIME. I had become anti-social and in essence, I became this dark cloud.
There came a point when I just got tired of being that person. Enough was enough. It took so much effort to be angry and bitter...and it took an emotional, psychological, and physical toll on me. I was tired of being unhappy and it was only until I made the decision to stop being that way when everything changed. I saw the light. My head wasn't just bobbing above the water anymore, I was finally out of the deep end. And I realized something else...I felt different. I was different. And it wasn't due to self-help books or other means like that...I was different because of what TIME gave me. With all of the times that I cried, the tears created these callouses to strengthen me up. I began reconnecting with people I lost touch with and that, in itself, gave me some sense of renewal. I missed Minnesota, but was so grateful to be back on the West coast...among family and friends. And lastly, I was able to really forgive ex-hubby for what he did. I hold no ill feelings toward him. I faced the fact that THESE THINGS HAD TO HAPPEN. He came into my life for a reason...and I've no regrets. Once upon a time, I was happy with him. Really happy. But it ended and I had to move on. It took me a while...a long ass while...but I was able to move on.
There is no time limit in dealing with the loss of the love of your life. There is a lot of pain, bitterness, and anger. There is a lot of questioning, doubt, denial, and blame. There's tons and tons of sadness and tears. The one thing that I learned through all of this is that the pain NEVER goes away...it only gets easier to bear with each new day. The loss becomes a battle scar, a reminder that you got wounded, BUT that you survived as well. Sometimes there is this ache that comes when you least expect it...for me, the holidays are the hardest. And February? Well hell, if I could, I'd erase it from my calendar completely. But the hurt is temporary...and it fades in time.
I don't think that you could ever stop loving someone... the love and your need/want/desire of that person somehow changes into something less. When that happens, you're able to let go a little bit more every day. I've never been one to erase someone out of my life forever, but you learn to leave behind the ones that hurt you. And when you do that, you're able to smile a little bit more because you find that you are, indeed, okay and surviving without them. And when you realize that you have survived without them, you see life with different eyes. And when that happens, you realize that there are bigger and better things out there just waiting for you...and perhaps, even someone to love. It takes baby steps to get there, but in the end, you will realize that we all need to take a chance at love again because we all deserve to be happy. We need to leave behind our past hurts and not expect that the same thing will happen as it did once before. You'll never be happy if you don't give yourself the chance to be...and with that, it takes time...so take all the time that you need.
How do you get over the love of your life?
This is something that I've pondered many a sleepless night. I've often mistaken the answer to be found in self-help books and websites. I've probably picked the brain of almost everyone I've known and yet, there was never one answer that was constant in the responses given. I've had mental debates inside my own head for far too long and to be quite honest, I've succeeded in driving myself completely insane. This question has plagued me to the point where it began eating away at my insides. It left this gaping hole in me creating such a hollow emptiness that, at times, made it impossible to breathe and to just be.
I felt that no one understood what I was going through and perhaps, it was partly my fault for not letting anyone in. The only way I could keep my head above water was to write. It became my refuge of sorts. Upon looking back at some of my writings, I almost feel like a stranger intruding on someone's private thoughts...it's difficult to recognize the writer as myself. The pain of those moments come back, but the blows are not as striking as before.
I married the love of my life. To me, he was my dream come true. He was everything that I wanted...and more. I loved that we were partners in crime in all that we did- we made a good team. We clicked in a way that I've never clicked with anyone before. When I was with him, there was never a doubt in my mind that I was loved. I looked forward to spending the rest of my life with him and it seemed like I was on my way.
But the fairytale had to come to an end and as my luck would have it, it was just too good to be true. I didn't doubt that he loved me, but the neverending lies were just too much to bear. I was left with my heart shattered in millions of pieces and for a long time, I was lost. I didn't know how to pick up the pieces...I wasn't even sure that I wanted to. Because it would mean that I would have to start all over again- without him- and I couldn't bear that thought.
How do you get over the love of your life?
There is no one answer to that question, but with having gone through this emotional and psychological debacle firsthand, this is all I could offer. First and foremost, there is a lot of crying involved. A lot. Neverending pools. Rivers. Tidal waves. You get the point. If there aren't any tears, something is wrong. Because when you lose the love of your life, there is a part of you that dies. And with any kind of death, there is this unbearable sadness that overwhelms you. I cried every night for four years...FOUR YEARS. But I did it in secret because I didn't want anyone to know how sad I was...I didn't want people to know that I wasn't handling it.
Secondly, you need a support system. This is the one thing that I wish I had when I was in Minnesota. When the opportunity to move to Minnesota came up, I grabbed at it without thinking. At that time, no one knew the depth of our problems and I just wanted to disappear. I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle anything with people breathing down my neck...because I knew that everyone would want me to leave...but I seriously believed that I could make it work. I was stupid to believe that I could do it all on my own. I was so lonely out there. I was surrounded by so many good people, all of whom could NOT help me. Phone calls home to family and friends helped, but it wasn't enough. I lost touch with the friends that I loved the most and it hurt that I didn't have them to turn to. Even though I talked to my sister every day, it wasn't the same. Each time I would come to California to visit, there were always tears as I would leave. It was so hard to be away. I didn't have the support system of family and friends...but I did have God. Never in my whole entire life have I turned to Him so often and so urgently. But He helped me...and in my most chaotic times, He helped to calm and quiet me down. He became my support...He became my everything.
Third, you need to separate yourself from the situation. Distance helps. Thousands of miles works. Hell, moving out of state halfway across the country is ideal. If I didn't leave Minnesota, I would still be lost. I HAD to leave...there was no other option. I was dying every day. Leaving was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make...saying goodbye to him was hard enough...but saying goodbye to him AND the girls who happened to be there for the summer tore my heart out of my chest. There were so many moments when I changed my mind to stay..."I could do this and work through all of this shit," I kept telling myself. But I had reached the breaking point and in order to keep me sane, I had to go.
Lastly, you need to get all of the anger out of your system and forgive. But how do you forgive the one person you vowed to love forever who hurt you in the most painful and terrible way? How do you get past what they did? How do you let it go? I am a dweller. I dwelled A LOT on what happened. I replayed everything in my mind, trying to make sense of it all, but always coming up short. But to this very day, I still have so many unanswered questions. But I finally took a step back, almost like an out-of-body experience, and saw what kind of a person I was becoming. I was angry ALL THE TIME. I cried ALL THE TIME. I was sad ALL THE TIME. I had become anti-social and in essence, I became this dark cloud.
There came a point when I just got tired of being that person. Enough was enough. It took so much effort to be angry and bitter...and it took an emotional, psychological, and physical toll on me. I was tired of being unhappy and it was only until I made the decision to stop being that way when everything changed. I saw the light. My head wasn't just bobbing above the water anymore, I was finally out of the deep end. And I realized something else...I felt different. I was different. And it wasn't due to self-help books or other means like that...I was different because of what TIME gave me. With all of the times that I cried, the tears created these callouses to strengthen me up. I began reconnecting with people I lost touch with and that, in itself, gave me some sense of renewal. I missed Minnesota, but was so grateful to be back on the West coast...among family and friends. And lastly, I was able to really forgive ex-hubby for what he did. I hold no ill feelings toward him. I faced the fact that THESE THINGS HAD TO HAPPEN. He came into my life for a reason...and I've no regrets. Once upon a time, I was happy with him. Really happy. But it ended and I had to move on. It took me a while...a long ass while...but I was able to move on.
There is no time limit in dealing with the loss of the love of your life. There is a lot of pain, bitterness, and anger. There is a lot of questioning, doubt, denial, and blame. There's tons and tons of sadness and tears. The one thing that I learned through all of this is that the pain NEVER goes away...it only gets easier to bear with each new day. The loss becomes a battle scar, a reminder that you got wounded, BUT that you survived as well. Sometimes there is this ache that comes when you least expect it...for me, the holidays are the hardest. And February? Well hell, if I could, I'd erase it from my calendar completely. But the hurt is temporary...and it fades in time.
I don't think that you could ever stop loving someone... the love and your need/want/desire of that person somehow changes into something less. When that happens, you're able to let go a little bit more every day. I've never been one to erase someone out of my life forever, but you learn to leave behind the ones that hurt you. And when you do that, you're able to smile a little bit more because you find that you are, indeed, okay and surviving without them. And when you realize that you have survived without them, you see life with different eyes. And when that happens, you realize that there are bigger and better things out there just waiting for you...and perhaps, even someone to love. It takes baby steps to get there, but in the end, you will realize that we all need to take a chance at love again because we all deserve to be happy. We need to leave behind our past hurts and not expect that the same thing will happen as it did once before. You'll never be happy if you don't give yourself the chance to be...and with that, it takes time...so take all the time that you need.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Stay At Home Day
I look out my window and all I see are gray clouds and imminent rain. The ground is wet, but with my still sleepy eyes, I can't determine whether or not it's raining at the moment. The sound of the cars passing on the bridge outside my window consists of loud sloshing on the wet ground. It's deafening and irritating, but at the same time, it could be therapeutically mesmerizing. Not exactly the same effect as listening to waves crashing onto the shore, but the continuous sound could almost put someone to sleep.
The wind is picking up and I only know that because I have these huge trees outside my window. When I was younger, I was terrified of sleeping next to the window, especially if there was a tree close by. All due to a movie that greatly traumamtized me, but which I won't even mention the movie title here..simply because, well, I do have a vivid imagination.
But wait, it's getting a tad brighter in my room. The sun is trying to break through the clouds. I can understand its struggle...it's as if I am trying to break through my own dark clouds and find that silver lining. It would be on the dot to say that I'm beyond sad for so many reasons and that for the moment, I am willing the sun to retract behind the clouds and let the rain come pouring down.
My room is cold. I just want to pull the covers over my head and disappear. The warmth of all the heavy blankets is so inviting that it almost pulls me under. And what perfect timing. For but a second, there is complete silence. No cars passing, no birds chirping, no children laughing or playing...nothing. I want more of that for right now. I'm going back to bed. I'm going to close my eyes and lie very still...and hope that my dreams will be like the falling rain...
I look out my window and all I see are gray clouds and imminent rain. The ground is wet, but with my still sleepy eyes, I can't determine whether or not it's raining at the moment. The sound of the cars passing on the bridge outside my window consists of loud sloshing on the wet ground. It's deafening and irritating, but at the same time, it could be therapeutically mesmerizing. Not exactly the same effect as listening to waves crashing onto the shore, but the continuous sound could almost put someone to sleep.
The wind is picking up and I only know that because I have these huge trees outside my window. When I was younger, I was terrified of sleeping next to the window, especially if there was a tree close by. All due to a movie that greatly traumamtized me, but which I won't even mention the movie title here..simply because, well, I do have a vivid imagination.
But wait, it's getting a tad brighter in my room. The sun is trying to break through the clouds. I can understand its struggle...it's as if I am trying to break through my own dark clouds and find that silver lining. It would be on the dot to say that I'm beyond sad for so many reasons and that for the moment, I am willing the sun to retract behind the clouds and let the rain come pouring down.
My room is cold. I just want to pull the covers over my head and disappear. The warmth of all the heavy blankets is so inviting that it almost pulls me under. And what perfect timing. For but a second, there is complete silence. No cars passing, no birds chirping, no children laughing or playing...nothing. I want more of that for right now. I'm going back to bed. I'm going to close my eyes and lie very still...and hope that my dreams will be like the falling rain...
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