Tag Archives: dating

Sexting with My Ex

21 May

In February, my partner of 2 1/2 years and I broke up. However, since we were still under a lease together, the two months that followed were possibly the most draining of our relationship. Living in the grey area was one of the hardest most confusing things I have ever done. I don’t know if it made the separation easier or harder now that all is said and done. I don’t know if I will ever know, but time gives clarity and I am still waiting and hoping for answers.

I have heard that one of the hardest things one can do is letting go of someone they still love. I didn’t know how hard until that February evening when Michigan told me he was no longer happy in Arizona and he was planning to move back home in April. I wanted to hate him, to be angry, but all I felt was blinding pain coursing through my veins. It had been so long since the last time I felt that way, I had almost forgot how entirely debilitating it could be. I am a stronger person now than I was the last time my heart was torn asunder, but no one is strong enough to withstand that kind of assault unaffected.

I know I acted the craziest I had acted since he knew me and I didn’t care. All walls were down and I was not above yelling at him one minute and begging him to stay the next. I drank a lot and cried even more and I made him watch it all. I would say I am sorry, but I am not. He was the man I loved and he was leaving me. He was not above it all, I knew it was tearing him apart to do it too. Love is a funny thing, even when you know it is not enough, it still feels like everything.

I felt like he had never really tried to make my home our home. Like I wasn’t enough to make him happy. Like all the things he had told me were lies that were now set alight. Of course some of those thoughts were overdramatized, but I think some of them had merit as well. He felt isolated and insecure which only amplified other issues we had. Of course it all makes logical sense now, but in the moment nerves were raw, exposed.

Our last few days were a roller coaster. Our last night was a passionate embrace. Our last morning was a waterfall of sorrow.

In the moment, I felt like that was the end of the story. In my heart of hearts I knew the healthy thing was to accept the failure of our hard won relationship and move on. At first I tried. We would text, but I would be vague and distant. I dated other people, tried to open my heart to options yet to be in my imagination.

Then, I let things slip. It was too hard to pretend I could fall out of love that quickly and move on to the next one. Especially knowing his feelings remained intact. We talked about more intimate things; we talked more often. We talked to end the day, and then we talked to feel something again.

LP one day observed that Michigan and I had returned to the state before things became difficult. Before he moved in, before our sex drives were incompatible, before we stopped communicating. I have no choice to agree, but I also know that things are different here at the end than they were at the beginning. We are different, and most importantly we aren’t together. In a way, I got what I had been asking for, freedom. The irony is that I no longer want it. It has been a month since I have seen him. I haven’t slept with anyone else despite the handful of dates I have been on. Maybe for some this is normal, for me this is incredible. This leads me to believe that what I actually wanted wasn’t what I was asking for.

I still keep analyzing all the things I could have done differently, but I wonder if it would have changed anything in the end. Sometimes what we want is impossible, and accepting that feels equally insurmountable. Sometimes fate just has other plans and we have to keep an open mind to see where we end up.

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Sometimes the party gets the best of you

8 Jul

Well I almost completed epic week of posting. Then came the hangover from hell and I lost my rhythm. I’ll finish the Arizona part of the story this week, promise (?). I was going to do it last weekend, but then Friday night came, got way too hammered and wanted to die for the next few days.

Did you know that technically every time you throw up from drinking you have alcohol poisoning? So I wonder what it means when you throw up on the sidewalk the next day while trying to merely survive your dog walking job…more than once. Not classy. Nor is a two day hang over. Hopefully, knowing this was my weekend earns my forgiveness for not finishing my attempt at completing something.

I may also do a Half Baked video tonight. It is Sunday after all and I didn’t even have drunken baking last week either since I felt so shitty. I’ll have to look through my pantry.

While I’m typing lets do other updates, mine as well make this productive:

Rugged Maniac Training is still going, but much less intense. The initial hurrah has died off a bit, but I’m still motivated to get this done. I’ve been watching videos to prepare for the obstacles, a few of us at work started a running group a couple days a week, and I’ve been doing Jillian Michaels videos to work on muscle conditioning. I’ve been pretty lazy the last couple weeks, but I’m determined to regain my focus now that the 4th is done and there are no other excuses until late August not to be healthy and bang this shit out.

Boys…oh boys. Nothing, I got nothing. I’ve been dating pretty regularly which is nice, but nothing is sticking. I have no complaints, I just wish my coupley friends would stop looking at me like I’m some charity case. Especially now that SMC and the Seaman are engaged. She is my best friend from college and he is a good friend from high school who I used to sleep with. Never saw that relationship ending up here, but now that it is I feel like its work to be happy for them, and they just keep talking like I’m going to be their new project. Their intentions are good, but they don’t get how patronizing they sound.

What else? Oh, remember when I had that mini break down about my life? Did I write about that? Well, I am officially moving to Arizona, probably in November. I need to save and plan and well, find a job, but I’m excited about it. I haven’t told many people, mostly because I don’t want to deal with the negativity that will come along with the announcement (I know for a fact a few people won’t exactly be happy about it), but I have a few months. I figure I’ll live in the dessert for a bit and that will be a nice little adventure then maybe England, or some tropical island for a while. I went to see “Savages” and it made me want to be a beach bum, possibly with dreadlocks.

Alright, it was nice catching up, but I have a pile of laundry calling my name.

White Horses

10 Dec

I have a rule. I don’t date army boys. Only problem is, I can never keep myself from breaking it. I always fall for the man in uniform off risking his life. Despite the heartache, despite telling myself over and over again why it such a bad idea, knowing beyond a doubt that in the end it won’t be worth it, I still let myself fall a little every time one of those roving pair of tormented eyes turns my way. My resolve weakens and I make excuse after excuse.

Today, it hit me why I let it happen. It has a little to do with every last one of us humanoids turning into idiots in love, a little to do with little girl fantasies of princes on white horse, but mostly it has to do with my own need to for salvation. Every girl growing up in a middle class family with Disney movies being the normative background to an unbalanced and idealistic vision of romantic development has a similar, unattainable dream for her happily ever after. Even my pessimistic scrutiny of the idea of true love is overcome from time to time by that built in foundation where Cinderella lives happily ever after despite her tumultuous upbringing. If she can be happy, and all her little princess friends, and even some of my own friends and acquaintances, why can’t I?

And that my friends, is problem number one. It is one thing to be a die hard romantic, yet another to be a blabbering idiot living in a fairytale. Problem number two comes after we let the delusion take over, we convince ourselves we are in love, or even that we have finally found “the spark.” Its all bull shit. It feels good, great even, but if we don’t catch it fast enough, those bubbly feelings have the strength to tear down even the strongest among us. More on that later.

Problem number three, and this one is the kicker for me personally, is how broken we let ourselves get by the first two problems. The learning curve is a kicker and the more times you go around the block, the more cynical you become. However, at the same time something is happening under the surface, and this can bring about a few different outcomes. For me, I internalized, kept my game face on, but couldn’t let go of the little girl fantasies. I like to think of myself as a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man, and I don’t. I still let myself hope for one though. Despite myself, despite what I want in the end, I push the good ones away, finding one excuse after another why they aren’t worthy, or more why I’m not worthy for them. And it is true, most of them couldn’t handle me, but that is because I have put up a wall so thick and so high that they could never break it down. The heartache got to me and I’m scared to let someone else in, give yet another person the capacity to add on another layer. Instead, I sit in my tower and wait for the one who can break down the doors and rescue me from myself.

That brings us back around. Why do I fall for army boys? They symbolize exactly what I need, what a lot of us need. A hero. Only more often than not, they are as broken as I am if not more. No one can be someone else’s savior. What we can do is love. Love one another, love ourselves, love life, no matter how crappy it can be.

And on that cheesy note (sorry for the barf fest, I guess my introspection the last few weeks has led me to be a little more mushy than witty for the time being), I leave you with a fairly appropriate song by one of the best bands ever…