I have been trying to fill in that silly “About” page on this blog and I have no idea what to say. So for fun, I thought I would just write down everything that popped into my head about myself and see what came out. So this is me, sorta, not really, probably:
As happens too often, I woke up this morning with a clear realization: I was the reason for our breakup. It wasn’t because he did not want anything long-distance, or that he couldn’t handle a relationship right now, or any of the other reasons I wish could be the case. He did not want a relationship with me, specifically me, so much so he barely remembered to tell me before he moved on.
This thought just smacked me across the face. It took me a while to acknowledge it, but here it is, it is all about me. For once maybe my narcissism is valid.
I let it sink in, I walked for a bit to get the blood flowing so my brain had the proper nourishment for swirling and when I was done I determined it sucks, but it’s fine. It has to be. I can’t change the situation. I am not going to change who I am and wouldn’t if I actually could.
I do love his voice!
Ugh. Shortly after my breakup, an old acquaintance contacted me offering support and an ear. She was not someone I was particularly close to and someone I had always been tentative with as she could be unpredictable but I was on a kick to reconnect with old friends and could use an extra pair of ears.
We hung out briefly, the evening seemed harmless, and I really didn’t expect much to come of it.
I was wrong. I chose poorly.
Only the most awesome movie monster ever and I cannot wait for the new movie!
In 2013, I re-watched and reviewed every Godzilla movie and it was really cool that my ex shared that with me. He also gave me some fabulous action figures that I adore. It will be hard to not be able to talk to him when the new movie comes out.
I have been back in the pool now for a week and I am amazed at how quickly I have taken to it after my long absence. My muscles remember the moves and my hips provide that extra flotation preventing me from drowning no matter how slowly I swim. And boy do I swim slowly.
I love swimming at the Physical Therapy pool, the temperature is a comfy 92 degrees and I can reserve a lane for a whole hour. Breast stroke one way, back stroke back and a few side stroke laps now and again to add variety. Had I ever mastered that whole breathing aspect of the front crawl I would throw that in but I just swallow water and that is unpleasant.
There is a cruelty to my crappy breakup that I am having a difficult time getting past. I have no closure. I was not able to look in my boyfriend’s eyes, hear his words, ask my questions and properly process the ending of something special to me.
At first it just didn’t seem real. What remained real was the last conversation we had and our last day together, not these text messages.
Once reality sunk in, I felt impotent, powerless and confused due to the lack of information. I started seeking information wherever I could, letting my mind race as I tried to piece fragments into a whole. It was draining and insanity inducing.
It has been a couple days since I went full-on-psycho-ridiculous-obnoxious-creeper-ex-girlfriend-nutter and now I am filled with lots of ick.
I couldn’t take the lack of control or accept not being allowed to participate in our breakup; having no real answers was making my brain swirl at an exhausting rate. The sudden severing of a relationship that meant so much to me for so long left me unsettled and feeling lost, so I went looking.
I found a shadow, just enough information to give me a vague image of a truth. I still don’t know if what I have decided this shadow means is accurate, but it is a narrative that makes sense and one I can accept.
I hate selfies, the word and the results.
I am one of the least photogenic people existing on this planet; usually my face becomes a weird distorted mess and I ooze awkwardness. But selfies have arrived so I need to stop being such a hater.
If my campaign to Suck Less in 2014™ is to truly be successful, I need to have proof. I have the usual means of measurements with the scale, a tape measure and just how my cloths fit but I read that taking a picture each day is also a useful tool. I like tools that are useful.
So here are my first selfies of the new campaign, no make-up, hair not fixed so that future pics will be more shockingly improved…and because I could not be bothered.
I should probably be taking an assie instead but I don’t want to get too whacky.
I have been wallowing and melancholy all day, it is hard knowing I am so easily and quickly replaced. Then I started to remember when we first met, the butterflies, the excitement when I would get a message or get to talk to him. It was so fun, so exciting. Staying up late at night I could barely function the next day, but I did not mind. Being coy, not willing to share too much, to stay at a pace that was in sync with his. I don’t want to lose those memories or dismiss anything because he lied and replaced me with a new love interest.