It's weird, most nights I figure I can't sleep because I'm stressed or depressed. And yet, tonight, although I do have some things weighing on my mind, I can't sleep because I am enthusiastic about myself, and generally happy with life despite everything.
I know so many of my blog posts are either vague or superficial, and that's because I want to tell you all about me without giving too much away. Seriously, I know, this doesn't make any sense because a blog is meant to not even be shared, but rather...exposed.
And so, that is how I will try to approach it from now on.
In late September, I ended a two-year relationship. Like, REALLY ended it. Things were about a year past being frustrating, and though I tried very hard to remedy the feeling, I felt stuck. At a "dead-end" to be the most generic and unoriginal as possible. I told him to give me back my apartment keys and leave. And so he did, and never looked back. The only time I saw him after that, he had his headphones in and stared at me blankly as he so often did, giving me back my copy of "Love Actually" in exchange for a frozen rat he had left in my freezer the day we had broken up.
Most people I have told about this found it weird that there was no official "this is the end" moment. The truth is (as he likely wouldn't have told anyone), is that we had this moment once before already. That, and also that we had already said so much in previous "debates", that there was nothing left to say.
I feel slightly terrible to say it, and realize I SOUND like a sick fuck to say it, I felt a tremendous sense of relief when he threw the keys down on the table. Something inside me said that this was the end of some sort of era, not of the relationship itself but of me as a person. I can't say exactly what that means yet, but since late September I have learned too many lessons about myself in relation to the way I conduct my romantic relationships. Things I never would have figured out if I really did go through with marriage and settling down in a couple of years, which is sincerely where I thought my life was headed.
Since then, I have experimented in few ways with how I decide to indulge in romantic relations with others. That is to say, none of them could actually be considered romantic thus far, as the wide world offers an array of shitty hands dealt to that generation of twenty-somethings people are now paying attention to and being fascinated by (and trust me, it can be a fucking jungle).
So far, I have been:
1. Confused by the phenomenon of the Hey-come-over-and-I'll-make-you-dinner-and-tea endeavour, which, after many renditions finally climaxes with what one would call a "Happy Ending" (and not the fairytale kind, see what I did there?), becomes a case of "oh fuck, you actually dig me? yeah...I think I left my oven on".
2. Confused by the one-night-only-but-let-me-have-your-number phenomenon which turned into a thing, but not a total thing, until it became a complicated thing and then not a thing at all. Like a literal cease in communication.
3. Confused by the I'm-going-to-slowly-integrate-you-into-my-life-and-visit-you-all-the-time-and-whisper-sweet-nothings-in-your-ear-but-dude-I-don't-want-us-lock-ourselves-down phenomenon which is actually the most fun I have had so far but am still experiencing due to my own idiocy, apparently.
Despite each of these being hideous, nightmarish scenarios in their own right, it's becoming easier for me to realize that these sorts of things, this aspect of my life, is not the end-all and be-all of ME. Enjoying myself as just myself and remembering how fun it is to hang with my friends above all Lameosaurs has taught me that.
On the flip-side, in "The Perks of Being a Wallflower", Charlie's teacher explains "we accept the love we think we deserve". Could the above examples of my recent experiences be telling me that maybe I'm only enduring what I think I deserve? How do you know what you DO deserve? I keep telling myself that I deserve as much as I have to give.
...and really, that's a lot more than I have received so far.
-T.
I know so many of my blog posts are either vague or superficial, and that's because I want to tell you all about me without giving too much away. Seriously, I know, this doesn't make any sense because a blog is meant to not even be shared, but rather...exposed.
And so, that is how I will try to approach it from now on.
In late September, I ended a two-year relationship. Like, REALLY ended it. Things were about a year past being frustrating, and though I tried very hard to remedy the feeling, I felt stuck. At a "dead-end" to be the most generic and unoriginal as possible. I told him to give me back my apartment keys and leave. And so he did, and never looked back. The only time I saw him after that, he had his headphones in and stared at me blankly as he so often did, giving me back my copy of "Love Actually" in exchange for a frozen rat he had left in my freezer the day we had broken up.
Most people I have told about this found it weird that there was no official "this is the end" moment. The truth is (as he likely wouldn't have told anyone), is that we had this moment once before already. That, and also that we had already said so much in previous "debates", that there was nothing left to say.
I feel slightly terrible to say it, and realize I SOUND like a sick fuck to say it, I felt a tremendous sense of relief when he threw the keys down on the table. Something inside me said that this was the end of some sort of era, not of the relationship itself but of me as a person. I can't say exactly what that means yet, but since late September I have learned too many lessons about myself in relation to the way I conduct my romantic relationships. Things I never would have figured out if I really did go through with marriage and settling down in a couple of years, which is sincerely where I thought my life was headed.
Since then, I have experimented in few ways with how I decide to indulge in romantic relations with others. That is to say, none of them could actually be considered romantic thus far, as the wide world offers an array of shitty hands dealt to that generation of twenty-somethings people are now paying attention to and being fascinated by (and trust me, it can be a fucking jungle).
So far, I have been:
1. Confused by the phenomenon of the Hey-come-over-and-I'll-make-you-dinner-and-tea endeavour, which, after many renditions finally climaxes with what one would call a "Happy Ending" (and not the fairytale kind, see what I did there?), becomes a case of "oh fuck, you actually dig me? yeah...I think I left my oven on".
2. Confused by the one-night-only-but-let-me-have-your-number phenomenon which turned into a thing, but not a total thing, until it became a complicated thing and then not a thing at all. Like a literal cease in communication.
3. Confused by the I'm-going-to-slowly-integrate-you-into-my-life-and-visit-you-all-the-time-and-whisper-sweet-nothings-in-your-ear-but-dude-I-don't-want-us-lock-ourselves-down phenomenon which is actually the most fun I have had so far but am still experiencing due to my own idiocy, apparently.
Despite each of these being hideous, nightmarish scenarios in their own right, it's becoming easier for me to realize that these sorts of things, this aspect of my life, is not the end-all and be-all of ME. Enjoying myself as just myself and remembering how fun it is to hang with my friends above all Lameosaurs has taught me that.
On the flip-side, in "The Perks of Being a Wallflower", Charlie's teacher explains "we accept the love we think we deserve". Could the above examples of my recent experiences be telling me that maybe I'm only enduring what I think I deserve? How do you know what you DO deserve? I keep telling myself that I deserve as much as I have to give.
...and really, that's a lot more than I have received so far.
-T.
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