Wish. Wish. Wish. Ponder.

I wish someone would have explained to me a long time ago that ending a friendship on bad terms is as bad as breaking up with someone. Coming from a girl who has ended more friendships than having been in relationships with a significant other, I can tell you that heart ache is heart ache, all that matters is whether or not you are close to a person.

When the friendship you just ended straddled the line between romance and deep friendship, the type of hurt you experience just travels all over. The type of hurt starts in your heart, floods the brain, tickles your toes then tares through your soul in only a matter of seconds. Everything hurts. Everything makes you want to vomit. You want the time to stop what it's doing, just so you can take a breather and fully comprehend what is actually going on in your body.

If you read this and try to fool me into thinking that I was in love, please stop reading now. Actually, stop reading now and forget everything that you just read. You may laugh at my silliness, but seriously, back.that.train. up. and shut the fuck up. You have no idea what I am trying to convey and I need you take your false intelligence else where. Preferably away from my blog. 

I wasn't, I know I wasn't.

I refuse to let someone have that power over me. I actually do not think that I believe in romantic love or the type of love that swallows you whole and spits you out a new clean person.  I only believe in intense infatuation with another person, the type of emotion that when it swallows you whole, it spits you out in shards with some glass mixed in for good measure.

That feeling, I have felt over and over again, just on different levels with different men. All unworthy of any romantic love I could have spit out if I actually believed in the concept.

aftermath

Just like that, when I thought the world had nothing else to offer me when it came to my own self pity, it throws me for a loop with just one simple text message. (or two)

.... and just like that, I am a crying blubbery mess. [thanks for saving me from myself Chris-Chris!]

Well, only for a little while. Then we got to texting......

Which I hate because, honestly, I don't consider them real conversation. Just a dribble of words put together that are supposed to say what is on your mind, NOT what you are feeling. (same goes for instant messaging) 

......and we hashed something things out. I got some things off my chest and he let me know that he did not intend to hurt my feelings. I let him know that while I am still not as hurt as before, I am still angry AND I don't want to be around him. The reasoning behind that realization is that I am pretty sure I won't be able to handle my temper around him. I think I might try to punch him in the face for putting me through so much pain. I don't need that on my criminal record. 


The resolution was this: There's no bad blood between us. I need time for more healing. I can not be around him. (as stated before)

This entire "conversation" comes as a surprise to me since I have spent many traffic jams reexamining exactly what went wrong in our relationship. The fact that there are many reasons as to why it went wrong, gave affirmation that whatever emotional roller coaster I am going through is for a purpose.

One main problem, I realized recently was the level of co-dependent behavior on my end that went on for the past 2 years. I relied on him to dictate who I was friends with, what friends I hung out with, to tell me when I was acting below my abilities, and on and on. Mind you, I fought him on every level but I was there to eat all those words up. I relied on his opinions to validate that someone care about me, that I was more than some girl who just did good things in bed. I did what I could to make myself worthy of him caring for me, even though his words made me feel inadequate.

I gave him all of me and he only gave me some of me. I stopped doing things that made him upset. I fought his opinions every step of the way, instead of telling him to mind his own business.

I basically did what I could to make him think I was to be taken care of and he was the only one who could care for me.

I shared my deepest darkest pain in hopes he would understand.






I wanted him to think that I was special and lovely and beautiful because I have only felt unspecial, unlovely and unbeautiful for most of my life.

Instead, we both made something that could have been a great friendship into a big mess.

I can't help but wonder what would have changed the outcome of our friendship/whatever the fuck it was.

Until next time. ce' le' vie



This is the song that makes me think of him :

One Month Later

.... and just like that, I am almost 100% over all that bullshit. 

Yup, almost 100%, because a full, blown "I don't give a flying fuck about that asshole" this soon would mean that I didn't care (which I do) and that he doesn't still affect me (which he does). 

So here I am.  Enjoying my life. Making all my own rules, doing my own thing and not feeling like a 3:30a text conversation with an old friend is in some way a terrible betrayal. 

It's odd being the queen of your own universe, having to deal with everything and your own problems within your own minds. 

Then again, in the words of my beloved friend Chris, "I'm tired of those guys making you feel like you are doing something wrong when you're not!" 

 

The Happening

It's happening, slowly yet surely.
I am starting to get over the one who hurt my heart, this getting over a guy thing moving at a slow pace but the best part is that its actually happening.
This is not something that isn't happening and I'm saying is, I'm actually getting over the sumofabitch. I think its me becoming a grown-up and being compliant with the notion  that I could never had gotten something that would never belong to me. The one good thing he did was explain to me in the beginning that I would never be his and he would never be mine. My problem through out this whole "thing" was that I left myself too available with the hope-hope that one day he'd want me in some special way. We both saw this, yet, for some reason we both let him play me like a fiddle... casually tossed to the side. If we are going to overplay this fiddle analogy, it would be safe to say that he was the fiddle player and I was his prized possession, no one could play me but he could play other fiddles. I was just something that was all his and he wasn't all mine. This manipulation of my affection was something that could be blamed on the both of us, we BOTH let my emotions get too far; to the point that when he left me I would be a terrible wreck which I was/still am from time to time. I think its safe to say that both of us actually do have some strong feelings for each other, all though we never talk anymore, that leave us longing for one another's companionship whether it be platonic or romantic. Its the pull towards one another that left our last few moments of friendship to be filled with confusing bittersweet affection- physical and emotional. My one and only regret is how wrong everything turned out to be in the end: my anger towards his deception and disrespect towards me, him trying so hard to not be the bad guy, me feeling so vulnerable and scared to the point where I was begging him to not leave me. Everything just turned into this over dramatic flub that it exposed how over the two of us needed to become, the pain over the fact that our friendship would never blossom into anything more than what it had become just turned into anger, tears, regret, sorrow and remorse on both our parts. I wish I could say that this was the hardest thing I have ever had to do- getting over him- but in reality its hard to be consumed in sorrow over something that was over before it began. As I told him, one time or another, there was always an expiration date on our friendship..... I just wished and hoped it would be at a later date.

I wonder if he does too.

Love

I've been thinking about the word LOVE lately and the connotations and power it brings to the table. I have been congratulating myself on the fact that I have never fallen in LOVE and let its power consume me but I have felt the power of infatuation and that is not a nice dress to wear everyday. It's that truth that keeps me second guessing myself when it comes to me ever falling in LOVE. I believe that as people LOVE (unlike infatuation) is an option and not a random happenstance. I refuse to believe that life and its creator wouldn't us to have that much control over our senses. I do believe, however, that a power infatuation may feel like LOVE and that people will not know the difference until they actually allow themselves to really fall in LOVE themselves, realizing that everything else was just child's play.

I hate the fact that I am talking about something that I have never actually felt myself, all that jargon in just a theory that has been swimming around my head for some time.

The thing about LOVE is that no matter how many times I say no to the concept, the truth is that there is a small part of my being that screams to the other parts to let me just one LOVE in my life.

But the rational side will just attack that small part with a very large gun. Why? Because, in my opinion, LOVE is just fucking stupid.

That is all.

Musings

I often wonder how a person can go about hurting other people's feelings like its a game. 

Then I remember that sometimes, the person doing the hurting sees the act as the right thing to do. 

It's something that haunts my being, at times. I like to say that I have never hurt someone the same way I am hurt but I have. 

Everyone has, I bet. 

I just wonder if they think about it as constantly as I do.  

(yes, I think in conundrums) 

At the moment, I don't know what I hate worse: the fact that at times it feels that I was strung along for 2 years by a person AND my feelings OR the fact that I have to try again and meet men that I'll have to date, in order to play this sad game of emotional cat and mouse over and over again. 

The idea makes me sick. SO sick that at times when the idea of dating can send me into a dangerous panic attack.  

Seriously, that bad.

I wonder if I am making sense to the world and the few, very few, people who are reading this. I want you to know that I am just in so much pain. 

So much pain. :-( 

IRONY IS.... (PART 2)

TELLING A GUY FOR 1 1/2 THAT YOU WANT TO GO TO PUERTO RICO 


THEN FINDING OUT THAT HE'S GOING WITH HIS FAMILY (not so bad) 


& GIRLFRIEND WHO HE SWORE WAS TOO UGLY AND BORING FOR HIM TO DATE EVER AGAIN. (awful)


(I'm so bitter, sad and angry right now that I don't know how I am going to recover)