What they never tell you about break ups…
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: September 8, 2009
Growing up, I usually had my head in the clouds, most definitely in a book, and I didn’t pay much attention to where I was going… which is what made following the crowd so appealing: the hard work was already taken care of. However, I have always had instinctual awareness that I wasn’t going to leave many broken hearts in my wake. Being a girl “who goes from one boyfriend to the next” was just something I wasn’t designed for.
I’ve had a feeling it would be a slow road for me love wise. That it might take a while to find the right person. Now that I’m in my thirties and the first round of divorces and babies have already hit, certainly being cautious plays a role. But more than that, and always that, it takes a lot to turn my head and take notice. There is a certain mix that seems to be a formula for me, and it doesn’t roll past me very often. I also know that I’m a certain mix too. So when these certain mixes flow past each other, it’s some heady stuff. And also FINALLY because it feels like this only happens on the order of an Olympic timeline or Halley’s Comet.
The short story is that I stand in the wake of meaningful, life-lessons-I-needed-at-the-time, I’ll-never-forget-his-name relationships. Not a lot of them but holy was there stuff going on in them. The kind where even if you know the break up is coming, you continue to shoulder the burden of everything you possibly can hold to make up the difference… if only to delay the inevitable. You did this. You owed it to your heart, who invested so much, to stay afloat just a little while longer (maybe so you can prepare it, too) because when it’s done, the heart is done and in such miniscule pieces that they only energy they can muster is to just lie there rather than begin to mend together.
My most recent breakup, nearly two years ago, was the most significant for me. Both in disappointment but also effects of the relationship. That relationship and then that break up were instrumental in pushing me towards the life I lead now. The one that scratched the itch towards thinking about grad school, then urging me to go, then reevaluating where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, since it was no longer necessary to find ‘whatever I could’ in attempt to go back to Chicago and any next steps of the relationship. I know in my bones that had I not met R, fallen in love, pushed, scratched, and fought for that relationship to work, and then resigned internally to existing in a relationship with an expiration date I so desparately wanted to push back, I would never have moved to Austin and met and fallen in love with Zack Morris.
That’s right… fallen in love. I have and I continue to do on a daily basis. It’s pretty amazing.
But what I didn’t know was that the hardest part of a break up is NOT getting over him. The hardest part of a break up is resetting your own relationship clock, it’s the invisible baggage you bring with you. When the break up was hitting me the hardest, my friends and I discussed what I had learned and I realized what I “needed” out of a relationship. We all thought it was good to go through this process so that I can determine if I’m getting what I need out of a relationship. I could look back and see the holes that would need to be filled in the future.
What they don’t tell you about break ups is that is not him at all that affects you the most. It’s the relationship. It’s the pre-set expectations that if any behavior in ‘future relationship’ happens to fall anywhere close to the “WARNING SIGNS!! Behavior similar to your previously failed relationship!! CAUTION” buckets you’ve placed, you will be disappointed. You might generalize that your return on almost investment isn’t going to break even at all and what the hell, NOT AGAIN. Woe is me.
But you’d be stupid and you’d be wrong. And it’s not until you realize that maybe the reason he hasn’t called you all day is because you told him you had to get some stuff done for work so he was WAITING for you to call, not that once again, you seem to be a low priority and HELL if you’re going to wait around for the phone to ring for some guy to call you. And once you’d made dinner, you realize, crap, was I supposed to call him? So you do. And it goes to voicemail and you leave a message. And then you put your phone in your bag so you can’t hear or see and obsess over it. Which is helpful when you miss his two calls immediately, so hours later when you finally notice he called back, Oops, you call him and find out that he’s on his way over because he was worried something was wrong. And the moment he comes into your apartment, everything feels better, all of your anxiety GONE, I can’t believe I ever freaked out. When he asks, “What happened today?”, it will feel like a wall of water rushing through Titanic, the memory wherein you remember the conversation of that morning…
Crap. It was me.
So those bags I’ve got the ones filled with disappointment, being a low priority, ”It never seems to be enough“. Those? I lit those on fire.
Because he, the one I’m most concerned with, the one that I love, does not deserve my pre-set expectations. Especially expectations that were set by someone else. He does not deserve the percentage of The Real Me I’m willing to give because I’m trying to protect All of Me. He should get all of it. And a blank canvas with nothing painted on it but the colors of getting to know each other, the good and the bad, our real colors, the ones that made us fall in love.
Now I know that no matter how much I think that ratty old luggage is trying to protect me, it’s just weighing me down. I’m starting to believe packing lighter makes me happier.
Why Zack Morris is Awesome
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: August 5, 2009
So, there are some cool things about dating someone who’s first name is basically similar to Zack Morris. When you talk to your bestest friends who live 1200 miles away or scattered somewhere else across the country and tell them about this great guy who they probably won’t meet unless things end up super serious down the road but yet their opinions still matter to you, chances are as soon as you say his name, their response almost always close to: “Ooh, nice name. I like him already.”
Thank you Zack Morris and Saturday morning live action TV shows on NBC when we were teenagers. So, Zack Morris it is.
There are other reasons why my Zack Morris is particularly awesome including:
- Awesomer #1: That time a couple weeks ago when we were planning to see this movie and I insisted we have dinner at the theater – all one large popcorn and two cokes style – and when he suggested we could get grosser and go for a hot dog, I replied that having a crappy hot dog at the theater will make me sad because it will only remind me that it’s not a Vienna Beef and that would make me homesick for Chicago. So instead he takes me to a movie where we eat dinner and drink surprise beers anyway without any sort of gross hot dog or nachos on the menu. Awesome.
-Awesomer #2: After the Vienna Beef discussion, I sighed I was getting homesick and memorysick (is that a real thing? I think it is) for Chicago and familiar things in the summertime that do not involve anything to do with worrying about how to adapt my day for heat in the 100s day after day. (Seriously, Texas? Hottest July on record, I GET IT. Let’s move on, and lower our standard, please. 89 would be great. 95? Maybe??) Saturday afternoon, Zack Morris picks me up for an excursion. I decided randomly to go to IKEA and he offered to take me.
I jump in his truck and Zack Morris tells me he needs to make as stop first because he’s hungry, and asked if I was hungry. (I wasn’t but the dude NEVER eats and still runs and bikes for 49 hours a day, which I don’t get, so I was THRILLED to hear him actually want to get something to eat and wasn’t going to derail him). We drive and we drive and we drive out to the “suburbs” where IKEA is and now I’m starting to get hungry and my stomach is growling and I’m hoping that he’s not thinking of the IKEA cafeteria because I just don’t think I can stomach it there (I know, I know it’s supposed to be good but it just appears to me as wrong).
We get off the highway and pull into here. A Chicago style grill – legitimate Vienna Beef hot dogs served. I saw the sign on the shop and my heart melted. And then I walked in and I almost started to cry. On the walls, no, COVERED on the walls were posters of Chicago. The one place in the world I could close my eyes and get anywhere. Home. Images I have not really seen in great detail for 7 months. I stood in front of the poster taken from the Sears Tower looking north, framing the river and River North and Streeterville for 10 minutes. I pointed out the older beautiful building on Hubbard where I worked for years, the old Sun-Times building, the Tribune Tower, explained the Marina Towers to him. I explained why I gasped at the owner’s own pictures of the original Portillo’s restaurant, Al’s #1 beef, Giordiano’s establishments that were framed on the wall. He quizzed me on the poster showing the players on the field from the 1985 Chicago Bears squad – who he already knew were responsible for me thinking for YEARS that the Super Bowl goes on for days, not just mere hours. I couldn’t even taste my Chicago Dog, I was so happy. AWESOME.
- Awesomer #3: As we pull into the massive shopping center where IKEA lives, we both see another store and shout, “REI!!!!!!!”. So we made a detour. Wherein Zack Morris spent way too much time fascinated by a fold up/in bike, and then rode the bike and then stared at bike tubes and tires and widgets. And then! He made ME get on a bike to measure my bike size because I forgot about my bike riding abilities the moment I got my driver’s learners permit years and years go and I don’t have one to go riding with him. And he asked me if I like the bike (I did!), noted the size of the bike (19 inches! I have no idea what that means!) and told me he has something at home that would work for me and then grabbed some tubes (??) or widgets (??) or something he needed to fix it up. (Yay! A Bike!) Then we went over the the camping section and looked at sleeping bags, where all the ones I picked out are suitable for getting through ZERO degree weather
Me: I LOVE this one, it’s so pretty and blue!
Zack Morris: Yeah, but it says it’s made for 0 degree weather, where would you use this?
Me: Chicago.
Zack Morris: Unless your parents make you sleep in your backyard during Christmas it’s too hot for Texas, even at night.
Me: But it’s so blue! and soft!
Zack Morris: I have already have two bags that work at home.
Me: But..
Zack Morris: I’m pretty sure they are blue and soft.
Me: Okay… I guess that makes more sense.
Then I spotted a map room and he found a map of his home state (where I didn’t think anyone actually lived. Well, except Dick Cheney. Booo.) and got excited showing me where his hometown was, that National Parks to him are like how growing up by shopping malls were to me, and the best spots to view the Milky Way are. I think he might have won the”coolest place to grow up” game. I lost as soon as he said “Gorge”. We sat at that table in the map room for a long time, talking and deciding we wanted to do small road trips, but realizing that it would take so long to get out of Texas that they will have to be here. Which means West Texas desert camping, exciting for a midwest non-desert non-mountain girl like me! We finally left before we got kicked out and continued our conversation over margaritas and chips and queso. Awesomer.
- Awesomer #4: Then the next morning he told me he LOVED me. It was totally surprising, although I thought some feelings might be spewed at some point, I was. not. expecting. that. But hearing it was pretty awesome and felt easy and natural…
I’ve been alternating replaying it in my head and freaking out and trying to rationalize and somehow come up with an answer to something that may not have one. But I go keep going back to a conversation we had hours after the L-bomb was dropped, when we were driving to another bike shop (for more tubes and widgets, I think. I don’t even pretend to understand) in silence he looked over at me and asked me if my ‘freak-out’ had started. I said I think it was. He asked what I needed from him. I told him some time to process and then to talk it out. He dropped me off later that night, called me the next day and came over the day after that. To talk. And we did. And it feels good.
It feels good. easy. comfortable. happy. and unspoken. Except although it feels unspoken, it no longer isn’t. I’m done questioning it. It just is. And *that* feels right.
AWESOMEST.
And away we go…
Three things plus a bonus
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: July 27, 2009
GO SEE IT!!!! Seriously. Like right now. Go!
I had been waiting and listening to the soundtrack on the website for WEEKS. I watched the trailer every day, I cheered every time the trailer came on TV, and I’m sure the boy was all “What the hell have I gotten myself into? This girl CHEERS for movie trailers yet I don’t even watch TV, heck I even listened to the 2008 election on the RADIO. Maybe if I tell her that she is adorable when she cheers for the trailer, she’ll stop… Nope, that just made her cheer LOUDER. Crap, I think I’ll go run 20 miles barefoot”.
The boy and I got tickets for opening night here in Austin and Friday morning I suddenly became TERRIFIED.
I realized that I had reached the point in which there was NO possible way the movie would ever live up to the expectations I had set for it in my head. I was pissed at myself (this tends to happen a lot) and then suddenly mortified because I was dragging another person along with me, someone who incorrectly kept referring to it as a chick flick. P’shaw!! As IF!! I couldn’t wait to prove him wrong, until the terror took over. What if it sucks? It could taint my ability to make decisions, to make decisions that are cool and awesome. We are still at the stage where the boy would use words like ‘cool’ and ‘awesome’ to describe me. I’m not ready for it to plummet just yet.
Friday night, I didn’t want to go. The boy lured me with food by taking me here to watch the movie, where the waiters brought us our chips and queso and his pizza and beer. And then brought me a surprise beer! (I wasn’t going to have anything, and then I gasped when I saw Strongbow Cider and then I had to explain my love for certain ciders to him and then promptly ordered a coke instead) The boy put in our order, or whatever he wanted as I was still so nervous for the movie that I couldn’t eat, via paper on a clip (Metra train style – I had to explain that one too, I’m sure the people next to us LOVED me) on our table and 30 minutes later a Strongbow showed up just like that!! It was a Christmas miracle! It was a good sign.
The movie rocked. It is not a weepy love story per se (it did well up emotion BIG time for me, however. Secretly), not one at all actually, but I’m not ruining anything by telling you that, it’s in the trailer. It was WAY funnier than I thought. Told from a male point of view and dudes dig it. This should be the movie that girls drag boys too so that in the future they will be willing to go with you to those “chick flicks” you’d want to see.
The point is I was totally validated, will continue to cheer when movie trailers come on TV and some child actors grow up to be way cute:
2. MAD MEN YOURSELF!!! (dot com)
Man! If only I had gotten my worthless Advertising degree in the 1960s!!
3. So, I’ve totally replaced my summer love for baseball with a new love for the Tour de France. I know, I’m super ashamed but there are a couple reasons. a) I don’t get WGN, and Comcast sportsnet doesn’t exist here so I’m SOL when it comes to Cubs games b) the Cubs tend to do much better when I don’t pay attention to them, not that I’m the solution, I’m just sayin’ it’s statistically better this way and c) The Tour de France is DRAMATIC. Like full on male hissy fits and stuff. The jury’s still out on Mr. Armstrong, but since he lives here, I definitely hear some crappy things but he’s also an amazing athlete who like bikes home from the airport and stuff so I have to give him props. But then there’s the shady stuff, I mean I guess you live long enough in Austin, you’ll have an LA story, right?
Anyway, did you know the Tour de France is a TEAM sport? I had no idea! It’s super fascinating. Not to mention that the dude who won yesterday is Lance’s TEAMMATE and since the team basically does what it can to help the No #1 guy to win, LA had to stand down and help the dude win. And the Dude was all “I’m so happy to have Lance working for me” and Lance was all “I’m happy to be the dude’s domestique, I’m proud of him” and then refused to comment any further on his teammate, the dude who won, during the last stages so you know LA was PISSED – because LA loves him some camera time. And then after a total dramatic stage when the dude basically crapped on everyone else, including and especially LA, Lance goes on to announce coming BACK next year with a NEW team – interestingly the winner dude has one more year on their current team… which is pitting LA’s new team vs the current winner dude’s team (LA’s team this year) for a SHOWDOWN!!!
When you think about it, the Tour de France is like the General Hospital of sports. Can’t wait!
BONUS: I have a name for the boy but it’s related to other stuff in a forthcoming post. It’s going well, slightly freaking out but that seems to be norm for me, I feel like. The whole thing is mind boggling. When he laughs for no reason when he’s with me, he calls them HAPPY GIGGLES. He bikes up and down one of the highways on his lunch hour and has a watch that tracks the calories burned (and heart rate and other stuff). I mean, WHAT? How is this whole thing even possible?
Seriously, if you told me that I’ve just woken up and am part of a new civilzation on a little place we like to call Mars, I’d totally believe you. I mean it would explain a lot and Lord knows it’s hot enough here.
He needs a name.
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: July 13, 2009
He literally came out of nowhere. I had no time for it really. This one was a disappointment and crashed and burned very quickly, which actually was preferable to any awkward motions of dating to be polite that I cannot endure. I thought it was better that way because by the beginning of June, I had no time for dating. Or so I thought. And I thought wrong.
The connection has been instant, feels intense, and sometimes intimidating. But so unbelievably natural, that I feel like I have to barely lift a finger.
I spent most of June out of town. Zipping across the country.
He has made me love phone calls. Long hours worth of phone calls, which I normally dispise, even in the old days when I would take some smokes to my back porch just to get through a long call with an old friend or a supportive call to my sister. But his phone calls, from his place overlooking the Austin hills to my beautiful but shallow hotel room in Manhattan, his phone calls always made me sad when we eventually hung up.
He is nothing like me. He is a scientist of sorts. His analytical mind makes mine look like I’ve been just wasting my time, when I actually consider analysis one of my strengths. He runs marathons, and not just any marathons, ultra marathons. He puts his body through hell and then decides to run barefoot so he can hear the mechanics of his stride.
He used to love fast cars and now owns the world’s fastest motorcycle, one in which you have to sit in the fetal position to drive. My response? “So you have to drive it on your side?” Naturally, because the only time I ever would lay in the fetal position is while I lay on my bed.
He owns a TV but only to hook up a DVD player. He does not watch TV. I watch so much TV, I have a DVR to record the shows I’m missing because I’m watching another show.
I am not attracted to his looks. Of anything I could imagine I’d like to gaze into, I don’t think I’d choose anything remotely close to what he resembles. Yet, I can’t wait until I get to see his face.
In July, I arrived back to our city.
It has not been perfect. Oh no, in fact, I almost botched it completely. Lost the whole thing in one fell swoop. It was after one specific instaneous, intense and slightly intmidating time together, I freaked out the next day and decided to lay low for a little while. Let him take the lead on where this would take us next. This had always worked before, the man dictates when and what we define, where we are going, and what we feel. Except this one.
So what did I do? I waited for him, like I had done countless times before. Not for him, specifically, but the waiting for the other to tell me what was right, that I did. And I waited, and I waited. I waited for what seemed like years, but in fact were just days, a week if not a little more. I made a mistake. I assumed he was like every other man I have dated and that their reactions would be his reaction. Then, when my analytical mind couldn’t possibly rationalize the silence any longer, I reached out. I expected defeat, par for the course, what typically happens. “He’s just not that into you”. Except this one.
He reached back. This one sensed that I needed time to process (I did). This one wanted me to come back to him when I was ready (I was). This one was ready to let go if that’s what I wanted (I didn’t). This one didn’t feel rushed but his feelings weren’t the ones who concerned him. Mine were.
He is attentive in ways I would find annoying on paper but makes our time together feel like it counts in so many different ways now. He responds with a hug or a squeeze when my boyfriend Pavlovian response is to wince or wait for laughter directed towards me. He tells me stories, but only the ones in which I derive what matters most to him. He states out loud how he is feeling when he is feeling it, and we aren’t even talking major emotions, and I know he means them. He follows through with actions and not words. But his words? His words state the thing I was thinking anyway, but did not want to say. He looks me in the eye and does not shift his gaze. He takes his time and I am not bored.
This might turn into something incredible or it might just fade out as another chapter in the Lessons Learned book of my life. Truth be told, I didn’t want to actually write this, because I didn’t want “jinx” anything. But the real truth is, that I want to remember this. Not that I would forget, but should time, emotions and bias influence in anyway, this is how I want to be treated. It is worth it, to feel this way. Love can be possible again.
I do not have a boyfriend. I am not in love. It doesn’t even matter if it gets to that point here, but the idea that I can see it again, for that, the man deserves to be named (maybe even a category but let’s not rush things).
Name and more stories forthcoming, so stay tuned. This blog is not called Life is Stagnant All Over, after all!
Long weekends = brain shut down two days ago
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: May 22, 2009
- In: FREAKING OUT| Tejas| boys
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Hello. I am about to bust out onto a glorious 85 degree day and holiday weekend and well, I can’t possible concentrate on work.
- It is graduation time!! I went to one this morning, and gosh darnit, they are really long but I fricking love it. I just walked down a hallway passing about 6 professors in full regalia and for a second, I thought I was at Hogwarts.
- The date is still happening. Details not firm but there has been continous follow thru from his end, to make sure it’s happening. Also I’m trying not to put much into it, but I have to say this: It is so nice when someone is considerate, recalls things you’ve said previously, wants your opinion, and has a sincere desire to get to know you. Men in their early to mid thirties rule. I almost feel bad for neglecting them before.
- I just found out that Simon & Garfunkel wrote and sang Hazy Shade of Winter. I am floored. How did I not know this?? I mean, I guess I knew The Bangles couldn’t have written it but still, Simon & Garfunkel?? I would never have guessed.
- I am seriously hating my hair. I got a FAB cut almost three weeks ago but I just can’t do anything with it. Then yesterday, it occured to me that my hair cut resembles ‘The Rachel’ cut on a simpler scale and now I can’t get it out of my head. Everytime I look in the mirror I see the ‘The Rachel’. My new stylist is great and I know if I went back she’d be fine with it and hopefully fix it. I have SO MUCH hair but it’s really fine which limits the styles apparently, so this cut I currently have is the cut I always end up with no matter who I go or what age I am. Eventually it all grows out and I keep it long and then get it cut and go back to square 1. Part of me doesn’t want to be that wimp that goes back to the salon so I think I might go buy some product and perhaps a curling iron to see if I can at least get it into some style I can live with.
- But back to the date, this will be the first first date I’ve had since 2004. The last first date started a almost 4 year relationship. But still I feel too young to have my last first date be 5 years ago. It’s probably no surprise that I’m flashing back to then as a guidepost. Thinking of things for reference. Uh yeah, that was like 20 lbs ago and I relied on getting stupid drunk to get me through. So those things aren’t going to work. But I know what I’m going to wear! Bonus!(?)
Anyway, it’s time for me to get the hell up on outta here (thought I’d pepper in some Texan for ya). Have a lovely Memorial Day weekend!!
It seems that I may be going out
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: May 19, 2009
on a DATE. Friday.
Which, is perfect because I’m getting sick and/or it’s allergies. I’m willing my glands to stay shrunk to prevent any wicked double chin action.
We are going for coffee – at this point I’m plotting how to spike it with some Bailey’s to take my edge off.
In the meantime, I’ll be trying to be too excited to forget the fact that I’m FREAKING OUT.
Good talk.
Fact.
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: May 13, 2009
- In: boys
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Flirting is the most fun thing ever. Flirting by banter, even better.
Most exciting, is that I’m realllly good at it so I just get excited, never nervous. Apparently I’m a flirt, according to my friends, because they see flirting when I see it as just a discussion.
Whatever it is, it’s awesome. Austin better mind themselves, because it appears I’m back.
The Wall
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: May 12, 2009
Another Austin Sunset from Pennypacker Bridge – photo credit
The week before last I hit a wall. My breaking point, if you will. After almost exactly 4 months in a new city in a new state (which feels like the other side of the world), in a new job in a new environment and going from corporate to a government employee (in the crudest sense of the word, but it’s so evident in how different things operate not to mention s–l–o–w), my brain went on strike. All the new information, the new faces and names, my brain had reached it’s capacity.
This week, the semester is over, save for finals but as far as I’m concerned, my semester ended for me when I hit the wall. It was as if all the information I had consciously and unconsciously absorbed since 2009 started was swirling around at such a fast pace that there simply wasn’t enough room for anything else. The effect on me, was one I felt deeply, as I desperately wanted something, anything to find a tether and bring it back down to settle, at the very least so I could get used to it.
It was also during these past few weeks that I have longed for Chicago. I think missing is too soft of a word. I would have typed ‘desperately missing’ but I’m trying to keep my use of desperate to once a post – lest I need to create a category for it (but there’s 3 so far, bygones). It’s not a new feeling, I have missed it greatly since I’ve left and tried to push it away. But as my lifeline to the world, others call Facebook, kept commenting how great the weather has been, I could feel my heartstrings pull north.
The weather is great in Texas as well… for August as I know it to be. It has been no less than 95 degrees with such humidity I have to check with others that Houston in fact has it worse, so I can be grateful for something. I don’t hate the heat but fall has always been my favorite season. It’s really not the heat (and I know I shouldn’t complain) it’s the lack of build up to the heat that has thrown me and made me homesick. I loved this time of year in Chicago, when the weather, for however many glimpses, allowed us to shake off the hibernation and start to venture outside for walks on the lakefront or gather together for grilling out, when the sun shone just long enough to bring out the skirts and if it was too cold by the end of the day leaving work, it didn’t matter because we knew of what was to come. And it’s why I loved living in the city. The heartbeat that maintained a steady pulse throughout the winter months so that the build up of energy could explode in the summer.
I suppose that the winter months in Austin could represent the same thing but having experienced for the first time, my natural biorhythms were not used to it yet. The strangest thing has happened, though, since I’ve hit that wall. I’ve really started to enjoy myself, and enjoy Austin tremendously.
I’ve forged a strong friendship with a co-worker in which has taken me to the most beautiful spot to watch a sunset in Austin, a long night of talking and sharing and relating even though we are in two very different stages of our lives, and I’d never thought I’d say it: a fantastic old school Texan honkytonk. A great bond with her daughter, the cutest 3.5 year old on the planet, who shares my love for belting out The Sound of Music, who runs to me for hugs, was the first one to notice my new hair cut and who won’t leave me alone, when she comes to see her mom after day care, until I promise once again that “Yes, I promise to watch Bolt with you.”
I have made amends with a relationship that was very hard to let go, endured an ongoing saga with the one who let me down only for him to realize that I was indeed that One, something I had known in my heart all along but could never trust that feeling enough. I somehow found the strength that words were just words and follow through was just more important and all of it was no longer what I, the one who had waited to hear it, wanted. I finally realized that letting him go was the best thing I could do for me, even if it meant hurting him, something I did not want to be responsible for after he had had a lifetime of hurt. But not being honest with him would have cut his scarred wounds even deeper. I knew I loved him enough to let him go and when I finally saw through the smoke that he didn’t love me enough to do the same, I closed the chapter. I am someone who can find a way to make anything work , and on the eve on what would have been our 5th anniversary, I forgave myself for exerting so much energy on something that would not, or was not meant to, work. Months of not knowing which was the right thing to do, showed itself when all I felt was relief once it was all said and done for good.
I have found a new hair stylist, in the cutest little yellow house in South Austin, who is honest and promises on what she delivers and whose cut does not stop receiving compliments. I bought tickets to a music festival I can NOT wait for, even though I might have to tolerate more heat than I want for October and still am trying to figure out how to get there without driving. I think 5 months is enough time to figure it out.
I hosted my mom for Mother’s Day this past weekend on her very first trip to Austin. I dragged the poor woman through hikes and outdoors in blazing heat and she still couldn’t find relief in my car which holds the little air condition that really could not hold up (fingers crossed for the summer!). With all the tours and the restaurants I’ve been dying to try but had not yet, I realized how great this part of the country I live in really is. And how lucky I am to be here. When I hugged her goodbye at the airport, I realized that the only thing I wanted to do was get back in my extraordinarily hot car, now blowing hot air instead of A/C, and get on to work and at the end of the day, back home, yes home, to my apartment. I smiled the whole way.
I ended my first semester with more relief than I thought I’d feel. I received thank you notes from students for whom I only did what I could, just trying to get by on my first outing. I became a mentor for some, and found mentors in others. Even if their phones are fancier than mine and they are on the brink of I life I wouldn’t choose for myself, I have learned far more from them than I had hoped to give to them. I have had little signs along the way that wink at me letting me know I’m headed in the right direction.
I am happy. I think I was afraid to be happy here, where my connections are few and my roots are struggling to break through the thick, thick Texan limestone. But they will. And I’m ready to be present through every experience that those roots’ struggles and eventual successes might bring.
That wall, the one that I hit where I threw up my hands in frustration, broke me. But it also broke my expectations of how I should feel and through it I found a way to climb over the wall and now can see over the other side.
I would not even check Facebook
Posted by: lifeisbusting on: April 28, 2009
Just a life lesson here: When one has not been getting enough sleep, for what seems like her entire life, and then has a week of really not getting enough sleep, looking at decorating sites and finding something like Exhibit A might bring one to tears:
Exhibit A
OMG. The thickness of that comforter just kills me.
I swear, if this was my bed, I would come home and get right in it and not even check my phone or computer. I think new bedding might now be in the cards for me…
Tweet, Tweet! (It’s just so fun to say!)
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Must Reads
- Big Time Fancy
- Blogging Barbie
- Celiac Chicks
- Cover Your Mouth When You Blog
- Gluten Free Girl
- He Loves Me Not
- Indexed
- Long Story Short
- Memoirs of a ‘gee
- Messing with Texas
- Michelle & the City
- Overheard in Chicago
- Pseudostoops
- Pulling the Trigger
- She Walks Around With It
- SoMi
- Sweats in the City
- The Cupcake Tent
- The Girl Who
- the light(er) side of growing up
- Tidbits of Drama
- Tilly Chic(ago)
- You can’t make this stuff up
