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I hit my year anniversary in Austin last week. A year ago, I got into a ridiculously bad car accident on my first weekend here, which also happened to be my ex-bf’s birthday. This year, it was lingering in the back of my mind, but faded quickly as I laughed and screamed through the Coney Island Cyclone roller coaster. Last year, I was stressed and lonely and hysterical. This year, I spent a glorious beautiful weather weekend in NYC with old friends and the crush that seems to never fully go away.
Although I got late Friday night, I didn’t see him until Saturday evening due to busy schedules, the US Open and a checklist of people I needed to see. Up to that point, he had slipped from my mind as I busied myself preparing for Africa and he for a trip to Costa Rica. But when I walked off the subway and saw him grinning at me across the street, all doubts flew out of my head. Is it possible he got better looking since I last saw him?
He gave me options for our plans that night, one of them involving a long walk up a hill through the Cloisters. He being in the camp that I needed to train more for Kilimanjaro strongly hinted at that one so I sighed and agreed. The sun was setting over the Hudson, the weather was cool and there was green all around. It’s as someone directed the perfect scenery for a romantic walk.
We had dinner at a small Italian place by his apartment. Conversation was smooth and fast flowing, filled with laughter and teasing. He lamented over the true meaning of “adoration” and how sad he was it’s gotten lost through time due to the “cuteness” of the word “adore” and “adorable.” To truly have adoration for something is to love and respect and be passionate about it. His adoration is for tennis and Africa, where he did Peace Corp for years. Deep down, I hoped he would have adoration for me some day.
He’s not an emotional man; he’s passionate about a few things, but generally, a stoic person. On the rare chance he makes a comment about us or me, he’s sincere to the point I desperately wish for more moments. My friends find him overwhelming great, probably because he’s so opposite of my usual. As we’re riding the subway, Smallbone giggles and whispers, “He’s so dreamy, Jane! I’m in love with him for you.”
But all these happy good feelings are just that. I leave for Africa next week and I wonder if he’ll fade from my memories or if he’ll move on. There was no talk about the future. Maybe that’s what happens when you live in the moment. The DTR (Define the Relationship) was looming in my head, but I pushed it away. What’s the point? He’s there, I’m here and there’s nothing to debate. But when I fall asleep in his arms and he comments that we fit together very well, I find myself wondering about the future.
Reality bites.
He’s finally engaged.
I have a variety of emotions thrown at me when I find out. Part of the chaos is from just getting off the phone with Pen (see previous entry; more on this later). Part of me is stunned. I knew it would happen sometime and soon, but it still stung a tiny bit. We had plans to get dinner and catch up when I was in St. Louis, but he chickened out via text message (although it was his idea). I called him on it and we never spoke again.
He is, for me, what I am to Pen. That #2 in your life that liberates you of what you thought was the norm and showing the way things could be. He was the one that showed me all the physical stuff didn’t have to be used as a tool for manipulation or lies or control. It could be fun and something I could own for myself.
The tiny tick that hurts is that I was never good enough for him to commit, but like Mel told me, “Sometimes I think we’re all girl scouts and instead of ‘leaving our campsites cleaner than when we found them,’ we leave our men better than when we found them. We help them understand women better and, in some cases, understand themselves. And what thanks do we get? They find great relationships after they’re done with us.”
The truth is, as much as he hurt me, he also contributed to making me who I am now. Despite the last year being rough, I AM pretty proud of how far I’ve come. And as one man walks permanently out of my life, another steps in.
As hard as I’ve tried to follow the 2-day rule, I’ve found that my mind still wanders to another man, Pen (see previous entry). He actually calls. So I may have told him straight up he better keep in touch, even if it as only friends or I wouldn’t let him kiss me. It’s a first and I’m unsure how to handle a guy who treats me the way he does. But it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? This is the way it’s supposed to be. I shouldn’t be so in awe of these actions. But the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I wasn’t being swept up by all the niceness. There’s been plenty of nice guys that I wasn’t attracted to and I promised to never settle even when I was lonely.
So what does this mean? I have an opportunity to go visit NYC for Labor Day due to a possible free mileage ticket. I have possibly one day off I can squeeze out of work. I have 50+ friends I need to see there, but I think I would be very happy staying in with him all weekend. That terrifies me. This entire situation freaks me out. I lose my cool when I’m around him, chatting nervously like a little bird to fill up the silences that I’m not used to yet. When he says nothing and just looks at me, I get butterflies and have to blink away because his gaze is so penetrating.
He frustrates me often with his stupid simple man logic (“Wait, why are you complaining about the lack of women boots? You just said there were so many options when you walked in!”) and he likes the wrong sports teams. He goes to bed at midnight and gets up at 7am daily while I find my best energy late at night. Yet, I still want to keep him around to see where it’s going.
Going to NY signifies so much more than just a fun jaunt to the city. After New Orleans, St. Louis and Austin, it’s another home although I never lived there. Going there when I could be going somewhere new (and with Africa soon after) is a giant step. On paper, it’s a horrible idea. Why get attached? Whey get more involved when this is clearly going nowhere with the distance? Like Kilimanjaro, there’s 1000 reasons not to do it and only a handful of good ones. But oh, are those handful really good ones! I promised I would stay open to the possibilities, but not pursue actively. Getting on that plane is breaking all the rules.
Logic or heart? Which?!
Summer: Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.
McKenzie: You’re a dude. [to Tom] She’s a dude!
Tom: Ok but wait–wait. What happens, if you fall in love?
Tom: What?
Summer: You don’t believe that, do you?
Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.
Dear, 5 friends getting married in the next 4 months,
Please do not be offended when I say this, but your weddings are bankrupting me.
Thank you and congratulations,
Jane Moneypenny
I am not a hater of weddings. Far from it, but when you decide to put your wedding in the middle of nowhere Mississippi where neither of your families are from, I’m going bitch a little. Because flights to the nearest big city aren’t cheap. Throw a rental car, gas and hotel room on top of that and I’m about to spend half a grand for one night. A stripper would probably be cheaper!
Sorry, readers, but it’s that time of year. In a few weeks, I “jet” off to my first wedding in the previously mentioned MS. Because they are dear and close friends, I have no choice in skipping this wedding. I was one of the first people they called to announce the engagement and I couldn’t live with the guilt of not going.
The weekend after that, I fly off to Big Bear Lake (2 hours outside of Ontario) for my college roommate’s wedding. It’s going to be a beautiful intimate wedding and another one I absolutely cannot miss. More money and more headaches of how to get where I need to.
In August, my co-worker gets married (in Austin, thankfully), but a gift will put me back another amount. In October, 2 more weddings, both in New Orleans and 2 weeks apart, causing a travel nightmare. 3 of the above mentioned couples are in the same group of friends, meaning different dresses.
I really don’t mind weddings. If anything, I love helping friends plan, but the amount of money spent is astounding to me. And the ones that have gotten married (yay for growing up in the South!) are starting to pop out babies.
If I ever get hitched, please don’t be offended when I don’t invite you to my elopement.
Over and out.
God, it feels good to be back here. After weeks of nervous anticipation, excitement and fear, I arrived back in STL and felt like I never left. Although I was running on no sleep from 9am Friday, I managed to forge ahead until 3am this morning.
It’s a strange mixture of “everything’s changed and yet everything’s still the same” feeling. It’s been so therapeutic seeing everyone again. Instant calmness, peace, comfort, familiarity washed over me at dinner as we attempted to sit 9 to a corner booth, even though the ENTIRETY of the restaurant was empty. Elbow to elbow, sharing food and laughing like I had never left. My heart felt FULL.
It was just so…good. I felt myself almost crying numerous times through the night and I can’t even explain why. Not because I was unhappy or miserable or angry or even sad, but just a feeling of “oh wow, I MISSED y’all SO much.” Because these people? They get me. Although they were only in my lives for my last year in St. Louis, they were the ones that really unknowingly tore me out of the depressing hole I was in.
When we go out, it’s not fake or dressed up or over-the-top. We go to funny unique little hole-in-the walls like Hide Away where 70-year olds dance and drink and it’s genuine and I LOVE it. We sat in this weird little place with red walls and half-naked Native American women paintings and watched them sit on stools with their perfectly coiled hair swaying to the music. Music, which by the way, is provided by an old man with a little white mustache playing a keyboard with sound effects and singing classics and standards. This is peace, I think. The comfort of being around people that don’t push me to party harder because I’m tired or run 5 miles because it’s shocking to them that I don’t. It leaves an ache in my chest and I wonder if I’ll ever find those kind of friendships in Austin.
I’ve been incredibly lucky in my life with the people I meet. I know that each group serves its different purpose and meaning in my life and they aren’t replacements for each other. But I just hope that I come across the same feeling of comfort and home again.
What is it about jerks that makes them hard to get over? Or stop thinking about? Is it is because we are SO confused by how one person can be such an asshole that we hold onto some naive hope they’ll prove otherwise? Is the rule that the jerkier they are, the harder it is to move on? Common sense and logic says it should be easier, a clean cut, a head held high movement that tells your feet to walk out. But it never seems to work that way.
The jerks seem to be the hardest heartbreak (for me, anyway). Maybe most of it is anger at myself for ignoring the signs or for making such poor judgement or stupidly thinking he was a good guy. It’s some innate desire to not be wrong when he proves to be THAT guy, even when you’ve sworn you were no longer going to ever date THAT type of guy again.
So I beat a dead horse again and again. Revive it, just to beat it down some more. Each time I think I can’t be hurt even more than I have in the past, I somehow manage to stumble another man that manages do just that. Of course there are good guys out there, but apparently I seem to keep on attracting the bad ones.
I’m not asking for much. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend. Just nice guys that I have a connection that I can get to know better, platonic of otherwise. I’m a low-maitnenced girl. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I need to start asking for more, demanding more respect.
Does it ever get easier?
Despite having one of those unforgivable life-changing years, I ended up spending the last day with no plans. In the last 3 hours of 2008, I was alone in my apartment, but on the phone with one best friend, who lives states away from her Marine-husband and online with another best friend, who’s boyfriend is staying with her family as she goes slowly insane. All 3 of us in vastly different stages of life, but all unhappy on NYE. It was a startling reminder that maybe the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
So 2008 ended with a quiet whimper. No crazy party, no giant blow-out celebration for an incredibly amazing year. I was disappointed and sad not to be home in New Orleans with the annual traditions of the 31st, but at 12:01, as predicted, my loving friends called from the same balcony they have every year to whoever isn’t there.
It’s almost embarrassing to admit I was alone, but it’s just another day in theory. The clock continues to tick and life goes on. It may not have ended the way I wanted it to, but it certainly doesn’t stop my momentum for having an even better 2009!
I used to make resolutions, break them, feel bad and laugh it off. But last year, I actually accomplished all mine from making new friends to moving out of St. Louis to backpacking in Europe to starting over in a new city. I even followed through with the promise to not get caught up with guys that would be an obstacle to those dreams. Even though I’m a very different person emotionally and mentally than I was a year ago today, I think I’m still haunted by the looming feeling of loneliness that used to seep into my life in St. Louis. So in 2009, I’ll swallow my fear of social situations and dating and new things and keep pushing forward! Always seek adventure.
Other realistic resolutions (instead of making vague general ones, I’m going to make specific ones so it’ll actually happen):
LEARN JAZZ PIANO: a life dream of mine, so I start lessons next week! After playing classical piano for 12 years until I went to college, I miss the ivories and will attempt to make a return.
LOSE 20 POUNDS BY JUNE: I’ll continue to take 5-6 flights of stairs up and down everyday. One day, I’ll manage to go from floor 5-17. Someday. Walk to places to eat at work when we go out and take a 20 minute walk even when I have lunch at work.
TRAVEL MORE: I’m addicted. Wanderlust (or maybe I’m a wanderslut…). Will find time and money somehow to continue this dream! Maybe South America in early April?
STOP HOOKING UP WITH DRUNK GUYS: Due to my lack of drinking, it happens often that I end up in bed with drunk guys. And yes, technically I’m the one in control here (“you SO took advantage of him being wasted,” laughed a friend), but the emotional afterwards is too confusing and achy. I have a feeling this one will be the toughest one to keep. Amazing how different things were a year ago…
With that said, good luck to everyone and their resolutions! What are some of yours?
It’s been a rough few weeks. Despite telling myself I’ve been through much much worse, I can’t seem to ease this heartache. Seeing him 5 days a week doesn’t help the situation whatsoever. Apparently heartache is a bitch, no matter how many times you’ve been through it. I’m also spending my first NYE away from New Orleans, which isn’t going to help the “healing time.”
I’ve gotten a lot of platitudes lately, “It’ll be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end!” or “He’s a jerk, anyways. What guy hurts 2 girls so easily?” or “You work together; it would have been a disaster.” I know. I know all of this, but it doesn’t seem to lighten the ache that is in my chest. The entire situation keeps nagging me because in a way, I believed so strongly in our chemistry and how much we had in common that it seems so WRONG that it just dies. How is it possible we go from having great conversations and and hooking up to … nothing and acting like strangers?
I guess it can be argued in the last year, I’ve had numerous run-ins with chemistry (physical and otherwise) and I’m more than sure I’ll have many more in the future. The question is, when do you stay and fight for it and when do you walk away?
It’s been awhile since I’ve felt so down about a guy. I mean, really down. Like truly bummed and sad.
Despite looking fabulous in my little green party dress for the office holiday shindig and hooking up with Mr. Co-Worker, I still got the short end of the stick. I’ll spare y’all the details of the drama with his crazy– like she’s off her rocker– date who is now threatening him (to make a long story short). Because at the deep down grittiness of it, we can only be friends. Whether or not there’s a work policy against it and I’m pretty sure there’s not, he just needs time and space to deal with Crazy Girl and working together doesn’t help the situation.
There were too many awkward elevator moments with co-workers asking him in the guy-talk way how things went with hot Crazy Girl (while I stood there) and I didn’t want to play games and give him the cold shoulder. So I took the initiative and sent him a funny witty email about avoiding future awkward moments in enclosed spaces and breaking all “hurt girl” rules and going for a drink after work.
And we did and we talked and I was honest. Very honest, even after finding out that Crazy Girl is, well, crazy. And he was honest. Obviously, I’m leaving out a LOT of the details, but it is what it is. “Don’t sh-t where you eat” and all that nonsense, so no matter how strong the chemistry is (I think he likes me? There was never confirmation), I’m now stuck with just occasionally glancing at him when I look up and the few lunch gatherings with others.
Ugh, this one hurts. Bad. I really like this one. We had so much in common, more than any guy I’ve met (we both want to quit our jobs and travel the world; get the same random injuries like pinched nerves and sliced fingertips and remain ridiculously close to our childhood friends). And of course, there will be others and all that talk, but for now, I just want to mope and be heartachey about this one.
This is making me not want a relationship even more. Too draining!
In the aftermath of my first “one-night stand,” I was surprised to find myself handling it so well. Carefree, calm, nonchalant. It was a fun time with an attractive nice guy and for once, no emotional baggage from my side.
The thing about the aftermath of a one night stand is (having never been in this place before), I have no idea what to do. The obvious answer is “nothing.” After all, that IS the point of the ONE NIGHT part of it, but this is all new to me. I don’t plan for this to be my introduction to sleeping around or ever going down that slippery slope, but this week, I find myself grasping at mixed emotions.
There is absolute no regret, but I’ve never been great at just letting things be without analyzing it to death. And not that I’m analyzing that night, but rather what I do now. Do I say, “Life is short. Carpe diem! Reach out to him and stay in touch”? While not in Austin, he’s not far either, so I left a friendly message saying to call me up when he’s in town again and I would be down to visit them in the next few months (he left an invite on the table when we parted ways). No strings attached, no pressure, just friendly outreach.
Of course, there’s been on response, no reply, no indication anything ever happened. Which, in truth, is the way these things are supposed to work. I’m not looking for anything and he’s not either, I’m sure, but I’m not going to lie and say it’ll be nice to get to know each other as friends. I’ve done my part and can walk away saying “Hey, I tried.”
Now if I can get rid of these anxious feelings in my chest…
The bar is dark and people are jumping around, singing and dancing drunkenly. Mr. Former Harmless Crush leans in closely, his hand at the base of my neck and pulls me closer. He leans in, his mouth coming towards me and whispers in my ear:
“What do you think?”
I stared at him blankly. He pulled me close and asked me again.
Oh, the girlfriend. He wants an opinion on the girlfriend that I finally met tonight for the first time after 5 months. I’m the last friend to meet her and any opinions I have are based on friends’ stories and passing comments.
His face is screwed up in concern as he waits for an answer.
“I don’t really know her enough to judge that. But she’s really nice! I like her,” I yelled over the music and gave a 45 degree thumbs up.
He nods happily and grins, satisfied with my answer and drunkenly goes back to dancing. It’s the first night I’ve seen them interact and to my surprise, jealously barely registers in my chest. When they entered the bar holding hands, I smiled and introduced myself quickly. We did the obligatory hand shake and as we sat down at the table, she turned to me.
“So I finally get to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from everyone.”
I laugh and tell her it’s probably not good things. After knowing the guys for 10 years, anything goes.
“No, no. They talk about you all the time and how well you take care of them.”
Apparently, my reputation precedes me because the night before, her drunken ditzy roommate told me the same thing. As we filter out the bar and stand in the streets in the cool air, he drunkenly happily hugs me a few times as we part ways.
“Why are you hugging me like you’re never going to see me again?”
“Because I just wanted to hug you again.”
Later on, as we eat leftover dessert and recap the night, Mr. Former Harmless Crush’s best friend seems surprised.
“That means your opinion really matters to him. Take it as a compliment. It doesn’t happen often.”
And that’s what my life feels like lately. These tiny random validations of my presence in people’s lives. I hate that I need these small confirmations, but for whatever reason, they validate the chemistry or friendship I swore existed but kept getting mixed signals on.
Mr. (Former) Adventure
A few weeks ago, I attempted to contact Mr. Adventure to find my missing water shoe left in this trunk from my last STL hurrah. No answer through facebook, e-mail or phone. No real surprise. His best friend W (I seem to consistently become friends with 2 guy-best friends) then dropped the bomb that Mr. Adventures’s girlfriend finds me a threat. It doesn’t come as a complete shock, but apparently no matter how hard I’ve tried to not be that girl in his life (or any of my guy friends’ lives), she still didn’t want me in his life and has swiftly cut him off from me. Of course, there’s no proof she’s outright demanded no contact, but it’s pretty obvious he’s heeding an unspoken threat from her.
I get it. I really do. I just didn’t expect complete avoidance.
“She knows how he (and all of us) enjoyed having you around and the stuff we crammed into that weekend,” says W.
As weird as it, confirmation that I mean something to him made me feel better. Made me confidant that my decision-making, gut feeling wasn’t wrong all those times we interacted so fluently.
And then the one that really sealed the deal of feeling validation. As I mentioned in a previous blog, he went and got himself a girlfriend after a year of saying he didn’t want a serious girlfriend (for the record, I never asked for more than just casual dating). 9 months later, he popped up again out of nowhere with a single word text message during a football game (our football rivalry was a big part of our chemistry). After staring at it in shock, I quickly deleted it and felt proud. But he was not to be stopped. He popped up 2 more times, the second time going as far as to send me an actual message through Facebook, friendly greetings and all, as if nothing had happened and he didn’t ignore my attempt to be friends after we ended things.
I find out soon after from the mutual friend that introduced us that his new girlfriend is hated among all. She’s everything he’s never wanted. She wants him to move out of his much-loved bachelor pad that he owns, get married, have kids and stop hanging out with his friends. And you know what? As superficial as it is, I feel this strange sense of “ha!.”
Does that make sense?
