One Step Forward, Ten Steps Back

Every single time I feel like I’m making progress, something else hits me. Today I sat down at the library and attempted to plan some of my future. I looked into the Americorps program which I have always found interesting and got really excited about the possibilities.

Then, as I was driving home, I drove by a shop that sells outdoor goodies and remembered that I hadn’t ever purchased one of the decorative animals that Cory had wanted. It was a part of a long line of gifts that will never be given. Then I remembered that in seven years, we had never managed to spend a whole summer together. Nor had we ever carved pumpkins together for Halloween. There seemed to be so much time for that kind of stuff.

And then I started hating myself, hating the way I run my life. Always assuming that I’ll have time to do the things I really want, to have the experiences I really want. And, the reality is, you just never know what can happen.

And now I regret all that stuff, I regret that we never made it to Yosemite and we never went camping. I’m sad that all those opportunities were there but we prioritized other things in front of them.

As I made my way home, I tried watching some TV to distract myself and then I videotaped my roommates trying to dance and do work out videos (interesting) and we laughed.

And then I went online and saw his Facebook page, (through my roommates Facebook account, yes I am that lame) and I saw him posting more than he ever has before. And referring to that girl Becky (who I predict is his next girlfriend) his “twinzee”. The whole thing makes me want to gag, and cry. And gag. And cry some more.

I find myself convincing myself that one day we will be the best of friends and the more and more this thing continues the more I feel that will never happen. He’s just gone.

And then I go back to feeling he’s dead.

And obviously I would never want him dead, but since this is a voluntary death (his choice not to be in my life) it feels personal and harsh. I want to be on the other side of the world. I want to be dating someone else. And at the same time, leaving and dating seem unmanageable.

So now I’m just lost, and sad. And feeling like he’ll never ever be a part of my life again. And that just seems so stupid and unnecessary. How could you just do that to someone who you’ve shared a third of your life with? Why is it so easy for him to cut me out? To move on to the next thing? To enjoy anything?

He shouldn’t be able to do those things because I’m not able to do those things. I’m stuck here. Feeling more rejected then I have ever felt in my life.

The bottom line is, I didn’t want this. And I still believe that our relationship would have survived if he would have chosen to talk to me about his issues instead of turning away from me. It’s all so unnecessary. And regardless of that, I still have to live with it.

And I don’t want to. It’s not fair.

I don’t want to be in this place, I want to fast forward to a year from now, when I’m confident and fine and happy and don’t need him. I want to be in a relationship, get married and feel great about where my life is. I want to feel in control of my life again.

I’m trying to make progress, but how do you keep trying when everything is one step forward and ten steps back?

Now What?

I had plans, lots of them, maybe too many. But now, they’re all gone.

The funny thing about life is that, regardless of whether or not you’re ready, decisions have to be made. I feel that pressure now more than ever.

Do I still want to attend the same college?

Do I still want to travel? If so, where to?

Do I still want to get married?

Where do I want to live?

What grade do I want to teach?

What goals do I have for my life?

Got any answers World?

I sure don’t.

Petty People

Can someone please explain to me why, oh why, breakups bring out the absolute worst in people? Myself included.

I’m sitting in my college library glancing at my to-do list every few seconds with absolutely no concern that so few things are being crossed off my list. It’s not that the items aren’t necessary, in fact, most of them needed to get done yesterday. Regardless, I simply don’t care.

I am the definition of apathy.

And I don’t like it. For the most part, I consider myself to be a pretty productive person. Model American. I get things done. But lately, everything seems totally pointless. My roommate calls it senior-itis, you may call it breakup blues. Whatever it is, it sucks. It’s not that I am feeling overwhelmed (my typical response to life) it’s that I am feeling so completely underwhelmed I have no idea what I am supposed to do with myself. I have no emotion, no feeling. All I want to do is sit in front of the TV and zone out. Read a book until I fall asleep with the light on, whatever it takes to not have to feel all of this.

Then, because I am a Psychology major, I sit and analyze that: I should be feeling everything 100% because that means I’m dealing with it. I shouldn’t hide these feelings or run away from them because they will just catch up to me sooner or later. And then I tell myself to shut up, that I don’t want to hear that, and I, you guessed it, zone out.

So this breakup has made me apathetic. But at least that is worlds better than what it is doing to Cory. He’s simply become pathetic.

Exhibit A) He deleted me as a friend on Facebook, which is, given the circumstances moderately understandable. But then he deleted my brother and my brother’s boyfriend for good measure. And today, because he is king of douchebags and as sad as can be, he has deleted all of our photos together.

I honestly don’t even know what to say about that. On one hand, it makes me want to crawl in the fetal position, cry and then call every woman I know and ask her what a gesture that low and sad could possibly mean. On the other hand, I don’t care at all. Which is bizarre.

I had a similar reaction when he moved all of his stuff out of the house when I wasn’t there. It actually makes me feel sorry for him, I mean, seven years with me and you don’t have the balls to do this kind of stuff in front of me? It’s just so sad that he doesn’t have the cojones to talk to me about any of this. It’s so sad that he thinks he can simply solve all of the problems in his life by cutting me out.

News flash: Everything that you don’t like about yourself when you’re in a relationship, probably will continue existing when you get out of the relationship.

It’s things like this that make me brace myself for what I know is coming next. A new girlfriend. I’m calling it now world, sooner, rather than later, I’ll hear through the grapevine that Cory’s moved on. My bet is her name will be Becky.

What I don’t understand is, where did this petty person come from? Has he regressed twelve years or was he always this immature? Will he actually change himself for the better?

Or are we destined to always have these sides of ourselves? Deep down, are we all petty people?

Peace In The Paradox

I woke up this morning and immediately thought, “What time does Cory have class today?”. Most nights, as I get in my car to drive home from school, I try to remember his schedule and what I’m supposed to make us for dinner that night.

I don’t know how to stop doing this.

Every time I remember, it is like a knife is piercing my gut.

He’s not coming home. This isn’t his home anymore.

I guess people would say this will go away in time. But the sad thing is: part of me doesn’t want it to. What if I just flat-out stopped remembering him? What if one day, it’s nothing but a memory, with no real emotional charge connected to it?

How will I remember our relationship?

There were years of good times, but right now, it takes real work to remember them. Even now, I’ve stopped thinking “I miss Cory” and I’ve started thinking “I miss who he was”. I don’t want his memory to be a stain on my consciousness. I don’t want to look back in 30 years and still feel mad or sad. But at the same time I think that looking back and feeling nothing would be worse.

I’ve said before that I feel like he died. And I do. Although I’ve never experienced a death or loss of someone this close to me I can say that I suppose if I had I would feel the same way I do now: The person who you know could fix your feelings and the person you want to talk to the most is the person who is gone.

Do we always need the people around us this much or does their loss heighten our emotion, our neediness? I feel like I can’t put one foot in front of the other, do my laundry or make routine phone calls without talking to him first. And at the same time, he’s the last person I want to talk to.

Breakups are the definition of paradox. And paradox is supposed to be a space of human discomfort and growth. I hope I’m growing, but I also don’t want to grow away from him.

Is there an answer? How do you de-program people out of your life and still keep their memory pure? How does what haunts you, help you?

How do you find peace in the paradox?

Are All Men The Same?

Today my dad called , which in my world is always a downer. I have probably talked to my dad less than 20 times over the last 6 years. Needless to say, we don’t get along very well. He didn’t handle the divorce well at all and exhibited the traits of being a Disneyland Dad, he didn’t listen, never gave his kids time alone with him and he broke every promise he ever made. Not exactly fodder for a great relationship.

When I was 15, I decided I’d had enough, I didn’t want a relationship with him, I considered him borderline abusive and I hated the time I spent in his home. But, he was my dad. I couldn’t just leave, I felt guilty, I thought it was normal, I didn’t know that I deserved any better, I felt powerless. There was no way I could do anything about this situation right? He was the adult, I was the child. Wrong.

And the person who finally helped convince me of that, was Cory. He never pushed me to stop communication with my dad but my relationship with Cory reminded me that I deserved much more than what he was offering. I was suddenly a strong, courageous woman who could take care of myself. And so for the first time in my life, I did what was best for me, without considering the impact it would have on anyone else. To this day it is the most selfish and important decision I’ve ever made.

So, whenever my dad calls, its irritating. Most of the time I don’t even answer, but this time he was threatening to drive up to my hometown and wait around all day until I agreed to meet with him so I decided to try to head him off. So I called back and we got into a screaming match about how “I’m sorry” after years of demolition doesn’t cut it and how demanding my time and attention wasn’t doing him any favors. After all, he was my dad, someone who you should, no matter what, be able to count on and because I no longer felt I could, our relationship was damaged forever. I hung up the phone crying and instantly began both missing and hating Cory.

Cory was supposed to be everything my dad wasn’t. He was the guy who kept his promises and told me I was worth it when I didn’t believe him. He was the anti-dad and now, well, he just wasn’t.

At 15 I was the most jaded teenager walking the planet, I didn’t believe in marriage and I knew that one day (likely very soon) I would end up with my heart broken and there was no way on Earth I ever considered the idea that I would marry my high school sweetheart. But eventually, over many, many years, I began realizing that when Cory and I fought, I no longer panicked thinking we would break up. I just assumed that we would deal with it. At that point, I knew that Cory and I would get married. After all, isn’t that what marriage was, the only way it could ever be successful?: deciding that you would never break up and then move forward with every other problem internally.

But then, four months ago when I started changing myself and asking for help, every time Cory and I fought, I would think “Oh my God we are actually going to break up this time”. So, taking all of these situations and relationships into account, let me ask you this:

How do you ever figure out who “The One” is, if seven years in you know, without a doubt in your mind that he is, and then, one day, you make a change and, he isn’t? How do you ever open yourself up to trust, when the person who taught you about trust in the first place screws up? And how do you open yourself up again after the savior from the first let down, lets you down himself?

Will I always be alone? Jaded? Bitter?

I feel forty.

We To Me: Shift In Identity

This weekend my roommates had some friends over and they dragged me out with them to some local bars for drinks and dancing. Surprisingly, I ended up having a really great time, the music was distracting and dancing the night away with some girlfriends was doing my body and soul some good. I wasn’t thinking about him too much. Until I took a breather and sat down with one of our house guests Diana. She turned to me and said “I’m going to get personal with you, okay?”. I smiled and nodded, which was much easier than screaming my response back to her.

“I heard that you and your boyfriend broke up and I just wanted to say I’m really sorry, you’ve been so hospitable and nice to everyone, you don’t deserve this.”

Crap. “Thanks, yea it’s been hard, but I’m dealing with it,” I yelled back.

“I’ve only known you for like two days and it sounds crazy to say this but I know you’re going to be a wonderful mother one day.”

Oh my God. What the hell is WRONG with me? What on Earth am I doing to exude this Mommy-vibe?

I suppose it would now be appropriate to share with you that about four months ago I began doing some serious work on myself involving my control issues. As the eldest girl in my family I shouldered a lot of the care-taking responsibilities caused by my parents divorce (whether that was necessary or not) and all that effort had finally caught up to me. Four months ago I decided I wasn’t Super Woman and I was definitely tired as functioning as Cory’s mother so I simply stopped.

That makes it sound cavalier and easy which it most certainly was not. But regardless, every day I tried reminding myself that life wasn’t about having a spotlessly cleaned home and just because my never-ending to-do list wasn’t handled that day it didn’t mean I was a complete and utter failure. I very slowly began announcing that, “Hello, I have some needs here” and began humbly begging Cory to be my partner, my teammate, a grown-up, and not a child. For the first time in my relationship, I was looking at him and asking for help; I can tell you with passion that it was one of the most humbling and terrifying experiences for me to reach out and very suddenly, find that no one was there. So let me just say that being told that I would be a great mother by a friend of a friend who had known me a total of 48 hours wasn’t the most welcome sentiment considering the circumstances.

“Thanks! That means a lot to me,” I yelled back.

“So, what’s next for you?” she slurred, pointing at me.

Geez, this girl should be a shrink. That’s what she’s doing, shrinking me, right here on the spot. Am I invisible yet? I thought, taking a deep breath and trying to smile.

“You know, you can do whatever you want now. Without worrying about him. So what’s next for you. Just you. What’s next for you?” she yelled in my ear.

What’s next for me? Are you talking about my life in the singular? Why aren’t you saying “us”? I don’t know what’s next for me! I’ve never had to just consider myself, I never even wanted to. I WANTED an “us”? This isn’t making me feel any better. Do I want the same things without Cory? What do I want? Why are you asking me this, I don’t want to do things alone! I wanted to live my life “worrying” about him too!

“Umm, well, umm, I’m entering the teaching credential program next year and then I want to travel,” I stammered back.

Diana smiled, squeezed my hand and said, “That sounds like a great plan”.

I smiled, speechless. Plan? If she would have known me any better she may have known that my simplified sentence was the most relaxed, thrown together, bullshit “plan” I had ever come up with on the spot. I didn’t believe in it, I wasn’t passionate, in fact I hardly cared. My good mood vanished, I wanted to cry.

A month ago I was surprisingly optimistic about the not-knowing and unplanned characteristics of my future with Cory. Sitting in a bar with Diana, I couldn’t have felt more alone. It wasn’t just the graduating-from-college-and-entering-the-real-world-jitters anymore, it was the doing-it-alone addendum that was pushing me from optimism to terror.

Just imagine committing yourself to an individual, a partner, a lifestyle, and a future for seven years and then suddenly, having all of those things disappear right before your very eyes. Every certainty, every guarantee, every promise, just gone. The concrete beneath me that I so sure was stable was no longer holding me and I was falling and breaking into pieces. Unsure, unhappy and broken.

It was more than a loss, it felt like a death. I am in mourning for the relationship, the friendship, the future, the past and the guy that was all supposed to be mine forever. So what was next for me? I couldn’t even go there, couldn’t even consider it. Because I had never just been me, I’d always been a part of a we.

And what’s worse is I had never resented that, I had wanted it, I’d looked for it, sought it out. Most people my age are lucky if they are just entering or developing their first relationships. Mine was set. And the fact that it is no more, is unthinkable. It doesn’t even make sense most days. I’m not just learning how to be without him, I’m learning how to just be me. And I don’t know what I want. Most days, I just want what I had. Before it was bad.

Background to the Break

Now I’d like to introduce you to “Cory”, the man of my dreams (even now).

Cory and I met freshman year of high school and began dating the following year. Right now, I am twenty-two years old and Cory has been my constant companion over the last seven years. He wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was my best friend. Cory and I had our lives planned out (sort of) and a month ago, I was looking forward to graduating with my degree in May, continuing my education next year and then moving to whatever corner of the planet his job took us to. I was planning my wedding, literally (I had a guest list and everything) and five weeks ago we were ring shopping at Kay’s on his request. I knew what our children’s names would be and I figured they would be born in about five years. I considered his family, my family and I know that he felt the same way about mine. We opened joint accounts, combined our money and planned trips to Europe.

For all intents and purposes, I was married.

For all intents and purposes, I am now divorced.

Divorced, ugh the word makes me gag. I’m sure that anyone reading this (especially those of the wise adult variety) are rolling their eyes and laughing at me. How could I consider myself married when I so obviously am not? I’m just being dramatic, calling this a divorce, right? I don’t know, maybe you are right. Maybe this is dramatic and in a year if I can read this and laugh too then I guess I will have made some progress in this world. But right now, I’m divorced. Ain’t no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

Now, let me ask you this; how many of you know of a 22 year-old couple who have been together for seven years? (I’ll assume I’m hearing crickets) In reality, I know of a couple who have been together longer than Cory and I were and they just got married. But other than that, nada. So let me ask you this Universe…how is a recently divorced, 22 year-old woman supposed to talk to her girlfriends and roommates about this situation without being blow off, misunderstood or belittled?

I’ve got the answer: She’s not.

So now, not only am I a 22 year-old divorcee, but I’m also a 22 year-old divorcee with no friends who “get it”. Talk about frustrating.

Hence this blog. I wholeheartedly admit that I am a part of the “hear me, hear me, hear me” generation of brats who update twitter and Facebook every ten seconds because we don’t feel loved by our parents (or something) so when confronted with a situation where I have lost the one person I talked to about everything, the only solution I saw was to blog about it. So here I am, blogging about it. Probably making myself look like a bratty, whiney, female who needs to shut up and stop being so cliché but I can’t help it: I need to talk. So, if you’re listening, let me know. If you have advice, shout it out. I don’t promise to listen, in fact I probably won’t. Because I’m emotional and there are days when I want to feel miserable. But on days when I don’t feel half bad about my life, I’ll do my best to open my ears to those of you who have survived what I haven’t. A breakup.

Endings and Beginnings

Hi.

Nice to meet you.

Three weeks ago, I was dumped.

I hope this blog will give me the space to vent, heal, change, grow and bitch as needed. And trust me: I need it.

I hope it doesn’t end up being a sphere of negativity. But it may start out that way, no promises.

I hope it provides me with clarity and peace. Eventually.

And I hope that through this breakup, I learn about breakthroughs.

Who knows though? If I’ve learned anything over the past few weeks, it’s that what I plan for, isn’t necessarily what will come to pass. So while I’m seeing where this thing takes me, I’ll be as honest and genuine as I possibly can. I’ll post every insecurity, every feeling, every doubt and every immature thought that enters my head in hopes that someone out there will be able to relate. I can’t be the only one who’s gone through this, right?

Let the healing begin.