Archive for the ‘questioning the ways of the world’ Category
For the past two weeks, I’ve been telling myself to Just blog it out. That used to always make you feel better. But the truth is, I’ve stared at this screen many nights trying to do just that and absolutely nothing comes out. There’s no image of motivation, or song lyric for inspiration. No title to begin, and no Answer to Life to end on. So instead I’ve tossed and turned nearly every night trying to figure out what’s going on with me. Where is my head at? What’s causing my sleepless nights? Why can’t I just seem to shake the old Something’s Wrong funk off?
This image of a cartoon Dorothy and the whole Wizard of Oz theme really seem to be the only things that seem to hit the spot with how I’m feeling right now. To put it best, for the past few hours I’ve been finding myself thinking, Where I am?, What am I doing here?, and How did I get here?.
Between you and me, I haven’t felt this lost & confused in a while… which is evident from the lack of blog posts from yours truly. While life has been busy this past year, especially with grad school, internship, and boyfriend, it really hasn’t been that bad. But now, with the end of internship and grad school drawing near, not to mention the lease on the apartment that I’ve lived since moving to Chicago over four years ago, I’m really starting to wonder What’s Next?
As exciting as it is, I’m starting to feel the pressures of my old frenemy, The Unknown.
In my strong moments, I have all the confidence in the world in knowing that after proving to myself that I can make it here, I can make it anywhere. I dream about the possibilities of living in a warmer climate and falling in love with a new city and new job. But when I’m hindered by anxiety and uncertainty, the questions begin swirling around in my head. What about your relationship? What about all your friends and networks here? How can you afford to move somewhere else? Can you really move further away from your family? What if no one will hire you?
There’s just a lot of questions right now, and unfortunately I’m not very close to any answers. But despite all that, I’m far from giving up. If anything, this is really that Time before something Amazing happens and then you find yourself wondering why you were worried in the first place.
I’m waiting for my Something Amazing to happen. I’m ready for all the pieces to come together and I can finally understand what all these blog days (and, essentially, the big move to Chicago) were all about.
More than anything, I’m ready to put aside the books and student loans and find my passion again. It’s visited in bits and pieces over the past two years, but I’m really missing it. I need it back again.
In my last post, I wrote, “This past year (with guys) has been interesting, yet disappointing.” There have been no truer words spoken by yours truly than these. Beginning with an escapade last winter, my life has been composed of “Nice to meet you” introductions at the bar to “You are a really good person, but…” dismissals over text. Yep, that pretty much sums of my (lack of) love life this past year.
On Sunday, I added another guy to my list of misfortune. To be fair, I knew it was coming; however, I thought there was a slim chance that this would last more than a few post-hookup texts. But nope, I was wrong yet again. Oh well, another one bites the dust.
It really has been quite a year and one that has brought multiple changes, both good and bad. For some reason, during these last 12-13 months, I have found myself chasing boy after boy with the hope that one of them would turn into something more than a bar drinking buddy or late night text companion. Sure there’s been all of this disappointment along the way, but I think I’m more upset with myself now than anything. When did I become a girl reliant on the attention of a guy?
And more importantly, how do I make it stop?
On Saturday morning, I woke up earlier to (FINALLY) work out for the first time a long time. During that spinning class, one of the things that popped into my mind was how I’ve somehow traded in my therapeutic workouts for pining over boys. To translate that thought, I gave up “me” time that was always very important to yours truly. Seriously lady, what’s wrong with you?
While a lot of my friends have comforted me with “he’s not good enough for you”, “you deserve someone better”, and “he’s an idiot for passing up on you” phrases, I have to say that I stand by my initial belief that the only one to blame here is myself. Why? Because I have lost sight of myself this past year. And because of that, how could I expect The Good Guy, Green Tee-Shirt, Cleveland, or any of those others that wandered in my web to really take a chance on me when I wasn’t too keen on myself in the first place?
So with a much-needed gym membership attached to my key chain, I am also taking control of my life again. I am shedding my boy worries for more “me” time and a boost of self-confident. So on that note, I think it’s time for some yoga.
PS. Thanks for bearing with me this, well, past year. And to all those guys- and honestly, there really haven’t been that many– thank you, I think, for teaching me a few lessons that will hopefully help me when that poor guy decides to stay around longer than any of you have.
As I sit in the bedroom of my childhood and adolescent days, I am nearly haunted by the ghosts of crushes past. Gosh, how many boys did I go to bed thinking about in this room? Well, if we could middle school then it may get a little tricky. So scratch that, and let’s only focus on those guys that really caused my head to spin and heart to pitter-patter since my hormonal adolescent days began.
To be honest, I can only remember a handful of real crushes during those days, and some of those leave me questioning if what I was feeling was real or merely part of exploring the world of boys.
But to be fair, I can say that there were probably two or three boys that captured my young heart and filled my dreams- both during the days and nights. However, as I begin to reminisce, more than anything I realize how my feelings for those boys have vanished.
And then there was the love of my life that consumed my heart during those beloved college days. He was the guy that I thought I’d never get over- whether or not we ended up together. For years I truly believed that I would be haunted by feelings for him and therefore, I’d never be able to love another. But here I am now, having to remind myself of him and the fated love I believed we shared.
And over these last few months, I found myself struggling to let go of the feelings I developed for Cleveland. Once again I thought I was doomed to suffer through lost memories of him. I thought my heart was going to broken (again) into millions of pieces without a glimpse of hope to patch it back together.
But here I sit, remembering all the guys that came before Cleveland and how the pain I endured for them, once upon a time. I recall those restless nights where I wondered if s0-and-so liked me to, and those days at school when I hoped my crush would ask me to Homecoming. Though tonight, what I remember the most is how I got over every single one of them, even if I deemed it impossible. All of those guys, from the one I shared my first kiss to the guy I first fell in love, I can honestly say that I’ve gotten over each one of them.
And now, I think I can almost say that I’ve gotten over Cleveland too. Okay, I’ll admit, there have been some moments of daydreams here and there; however, what’s surprised me is how little I’ve been thinking of him. I’m sure it helps that he won’t talk to me, or return any of the few texts I’ve sent in the last couple of weeks. Though, whatever the case may be, I’m left sitting here wondering what I ever felt for him in the first place. Was he another crush? A guy who showed a broken-down girl some attention? Or was it more? Or perhaps, was it ever anything at all?
Even though he’s made it quite clear that we won’t be seeing each other anytime soon, I cannot help but be curious what it would be like if I saw him again. Would the feelings of desire come back? Or would I smile at him with an empty heart? Would I remember those good times that we shared? Or would I look at him and only feel the pain that he caused me as he slowly indicated that he couldn’t do this anymore?
Sometimes I wish we had that extra moment to see what would happen. But then again, maybe it’s better off that we don’t.
Song of the Moment: Glass by Ingrid Michaelson
I’m pretty sure I speak for every single girl (and probably boy too) when I say that being single isn’t easy- especially during the holidays. There just something about the falling snow and twinkling lights that elicits PDAs, even without the help of mistletoe. It’s not that us singletons are bitter or jealous, but rather we feel taunted by the overload of kisses on every street corner and engagement announcements on Facebook. Again, we’re not bitter…we’re just human. It’s not easy to smile every time you find out another high school ‘friend’ is engaged or hear a valley girl bragging about what her boyfriend is getting her for Christmas on the bus. To be honest, some days it’s just plain difficult. Okay, most days, especially when you’re also struggling to smile through an already-broken heart.
I’m a little disappointed in myself these days. When did I become a cynical girl who stopped believing in true love? When did I begin gagging at the sign of lovey-dovey cuddle sessions at the bus stop? When did I stop spending time with couples at bars asking them how they met? When did I start being one of those sad girls who really doesn’t believe that she’ll ever find love?
The truth is I don’t know how to start believing again. I’m not really sure that I’m capable of doing so granted the sad & cynical state I’ve found myself in lately. Maybe it’s going to take time? Maybe it’s going to take a miracle? Or maybe it’s never going to happen? After struggling for 7 years to get over a first love who never officially knew my feelings (ck) and falling for a guy that I never had a chance of calling mine (“Cleveland”), I find myself grasping for something. Anything that makes me believe again that love is possible for me.
Okay, this is definitely coming off more rash than meant to be, but I guess my point is this: How are broken hearts supposed to be repaired? How can dead hearts become alive again? What is the secret? Who holds the key? There are so many broken hearts in our world today, some of them belonging to very good friends of mine. How can I fix them? How can I make them whole again? How can I help them believe in love again? How can I help them see that they deserve to be loved, and that one day they will be loved again?
Song of the Moment: Dead Hearts by Stars
In some ways I’m proud of that chapter. I fought for love. I had poison ivy. You know, I lost, but I really fought.
(Addison, Private Practice.)
I knew I had to get over him so when the cute, movie-inspired idea of getting over a guy in 10 days popped into my mind, I really thought I could make it happen. After all I did that Master Cleanse for 10 days+, so why couldn’t I do this? I mean I’ve always been stubborn-minded enough to know that I would achieve something once I set a goal. Why couldn’t I do this? If I could do that, then this shouldn’t be that hard?
For the last few years I’ve stated my claim that you cannot force feelings. You cannot force yourself to have feelings for someone nor can you for someone to have feelings for you. That being said, these last ten days I was reminded that you also cannot stop yourself from having feelings for someone, nor can you force someone to stop having feelings for you. Instead, it happens over time…and not necessarily ten days. Not to mention most people don’t tend to get over someone until they find someone new.
Now I cannot necessarily say that I met someone new nor are my feelings for “Cleveland” completely dunzo. But I can report that I haven’t thought about him much nor have I contacted him these last three days. In other words, I’m feeling much better than I was at this time last week- which has a lot to do with staying busy and distracted by school work and something else I”m not going to talk about. But I do still miss him, which was confirmed during those 10 days of trying to get over him. I miss him because, even though I tried to fight it for 3 months, the chemistry was there. Sometimes two people just have a connection; and sometimes, despite that connection, two people just cannot be together…which is why I have to continue to get over him.
I’ve received such sage advice from others who have “been in the same place before”, which really has helped me in the getting over “Cleveland” process. They’ve shared that- it’s best to have no contact…delete all of his texts & emails… don’t check his Facebook page… let yourself feel… you can do so much better with someone who can give you what you deserve… he’s not good enough for you… he is being selfish to you… focus on you for now… it’s easier if you don’t see him again…(and so on).
But the best advice I’ve received was from my dear friend, Kate, who painted the picture oh-so clearly in saying, “Affairs like mine and yours are like a drug. It’s like an addiction, you keep going back for more because of the instant gratification (attention, sex, etc) that the guy gives you.” Immediately upon reading that, I realized that Kate was right. My attraction to him- physically, emotionally, and sexually- made me crave him, as though he was my addiction. I was high when he I had him, yet distraught when he was absent. I longed to have him again, even going as far as to making excuses as to why I “needed” him. I never needed him…I just wanted him. He was my drug of choice; everything I thought I needed to feel good. But what I’ve learned through this 10-day process is that I really am okay with out him.
So while I failed to get over “Cleveland” in ten days, I cannot say that I’m a failure. In fact, I have no regrets about the 10-day pact that I made myself and the slip-ups that I had along the way. Do I wish that I could say that I went 10 days without contacting him? Absolutely! Do I wish that I could say “I’m over him”? Of course. But as Addison said, I am proud of the lessons learned in this chapter of my life. And because of what I’ve learned, I know that one day I’ll finally get over “Cleveland”.
She was upset that we didn’t have a white marker but I ensured her that the paper was white so it didn’t matter. She chose pink instead and asked if I could draw a really big dress for the bride. Then she chose blue for me to draw the little boy (ring bearer). Before I knew it, she was having me draw a groom- with a big smile. “He is smiling because he thinks the bride is pretty and he loves her.”
She continued to draw- realizing that the bride needed her flowers and the groom his shoes- and talk to me about (how she preceived) love, marriage, and the whole Prince Charming- Princess- Happily Ever After scenario that she believed in with her entire 4-year old little heart.
As her heart filled with hope, mine was being crushed. Part of me wanted to tell her right then and there about the reality of love, marriage, and everything but happily ever after, but I resisted. As much as I didn’t want her heart to be crushed in twenty years, I couldn’t bear the thought of crushing her heart now. So instead, although it pains me to know she’ll be forced to learn one day, I needed to let her have hope now. I needed to let her continue believing for her own sake, and maybe mine too.
I used to be Sofia. I used to draw brides and grooms with big red smiles and hearts shining in their eyes. I used to believe in Prince Charming and happily ever after. But now, after twentysome years of baggage and scars, I’m not quite sure I know what I believe. For the life of me, I cannot picture myself wearing a beautiful dress and looking up an aisle to see a boy smiling back. And with regards to Prince Charming, let’s just say I have my doubts.
I came home tonight and let a few tears roll down my cheek. I was holding them back for most of the day and knew I was safe in my apartment. Where they came from can only be speculated by a few hypotheses; however, one of them may very well be the result of Sofia’s heart-felt wishes. Maybe I really do wish that I could believe again?