I quote:
"I abandoned you and didn't know everything about everything".
Well how about them apples?
It was a long, drawn out conversation that oscillated from "I'm sorry" to "Oh shit did I really do those things to to?" And it feels like I may have finally received closure.
As for TNG, things are still confusing. I'm still crushed. And I am still breathing.
But more on that later.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
heartbreak
The TNG left me. With nary an explanation besides "I don't think we are compatible".
I'm crushed.
Nothing eloquent to say. Just utterly battered.
Back to the drawing board.
I'm crushed.
Nothing eloquent to say. Just utterly battered.
Back to the drawing board.
Friday, July 2, 2010
grab your partner
In a show of "I can do this", I decided to go out last night and enjoy myself. I've spent the past week or so moping around the house and feeling downright ridiculous. Moping why? No reason. At all. As I said, ridiculous.
I made my way to the local country bar and decided to attempt (for only the second time) two-stepping. Now two-stepping isn't exactly the most elegant form of dance but hot damn was it fun. I also managed to line dance quite a bit, and it turns out all those years of modern, ballet, jazz, etc were quite useful and that learning the steps was not nearly as hard as I thought it would be.
Now why is any of this of interest to the blogosphere? (oh god I just said that word) Because it proved to me that I can go out, have a beer or two, and hang out with friends without feeling like a complete and total utter failure. I made a few new friends, figured out some steps, and had a damn good time and nary a hangover to show for it.
My last post, in all of its cryptic glory, still has yet to be resolved. I feel...adrift. Emotionally speaking. I am trying my damndest to figure out what's next and to keep my head on my shoulders without losing it.
I made my way to the local country bar and decided to attempt (for only the second time) two-stepping. Now two-stepping isn't exactly the most elegant form of dance but hot damn was it fun. I also managed to line dance quite a bit, and it turns out all those years of modern, ballet, jazz, etc were quite useful and that learning the steps was not nearly as hard as I thought it would be.
Now why is any of this of interest to the blogosphere? (oh god I just said that word) Because it proved to me that I can go out, have a beer or two, and hang out with friends without feeling like a complete and total utter failure. I made a few new friends, figured out some steps, and had a damn good time and nary a hangover to show for it.
My last post, in all of its cryptic glory, still has yet to be resolved. I feel...adrift. Emotionally speaking. I am trying my damndest to figure out what's next and to keep my head on my shoulders without losing it.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
to clue ya'll in
When the X broke my heart in January I was in India, and had been living in New York with said X in a 300 square foot apartment. Two weeks in India post-foot break it became quite clear I would need to have surgery to repair the damage that five Kingfisher Strong's and my lack of coordination wrecked on my body. Realizing I had no home in NYC anymore (even though the X said I could stay and she'd help me for one day* post surgery) I fled back to Colorado and returned to the nest of the 'rents, a place I had flown at the tender age of 17 and never looked back.
The 'rents were loverly and super accommodating taking me from appointment to appointment. Enter the new girl (from here on out TNG). Bright blue eyes, big smile, smarty pants of an environmentalist. I'd known TNG for three years, as she was the X's good friend. The X also happens to be TNG's first girlfriend 13 years prior.
Apparently, TNG had quite a thing for me for some time now. In fact, on my first date with the X, TNG did her damndest to convince me that dating her instead of the X would be advantageous to my well-being as a human being that TNG was well-traveled, college educated, and much nicer to the ladies. I took her advances as flattering, but decided the X was the one for me. So I thanked her, and went on my merry little way.
In the meantime, I got engaged to the X and moved my ass to NYC from Boulder. All the while, TNG stayed in Denver/Boulder area and would insist on seeing me every time I came to town. Of course, being who I am and her position in the X's life I felt it my duty. (Not to mention those visits that came post breakups resulted in lots of space to whine to TNG about the X's inability to do y, z, a...whatever).
So three years later there I was, TNG ready, willing and able to do anything to make sure that I was happy post-surgery. And then one day it happened, I looked at her across a table and realized what a fine human being she was. And the rest they say is history....
Yes. This may make me a bad person.
Yes. It calls into question TNG's moral character.
But then again, how many times can you toss something aside before someone else decides that your trash is their treasure?
Six might well be enough times....
*obviously the nicest person ever. One flipping day of a five day recovery.
The 'rents were loverly and super accommodating taking me from appointment to appointment. Enter the new girl (from here on out TNG). Bright blue eyes, big smile, smarty pants of an environmentalist. I'd known TNG for three years, as she was the X's good friend. The X also happens to be TNG's first girlfriend 13 years prior.
Apparently, TNG had quite a thing for me for some time now. In fact, on my first date with the X, TNG did her damndest to convince me that dating her instead of the X would be advantageous to my well-being as a human being that TNG was well-traveled, college educated, and much nicer to the ladies. I took her advances as flattering, but decided the X was the one for me. So I thanked her, and went on my merry little way.
In the meantime, I got engaged to the X and moved my ass to NYC from Boulder. All the while, TNG stayed in Denver/Boulder area and would insist on seeing me every time I came to town. Of course, being who I am and her position in the X's life I felt it my duty. (Not to mention those visits that came post breakups resulted in lots of space to whine to TNG about the X's inability to do y, z, a...whatever).
So three years later there I was, TNG ready, willing and able to do anything to make sure that I was happy post-surgery. And then one day it happened, I looked at her across a table and realized what a fine human being she was. And the rest they say is history....
Yes. This may make me a bad person.
Yes. It calls into question TNG's moral character.
But then again, how many times can you toss something aside before someone else decides that your trash is their treasure?
Six might well be enough times....
*obviously the nicest person ever. One flipping day of a five day recovery.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Wherein I realize I really hated New York...
For those of you who know me (which is few and far between of you I would guess), I spent the past nearly three years attempting to make a life for myself with the X in New York City–the city that never sleeps.
Now NYC for most people is a place where dreams are made. A place that inspires and instigates excitement deep within one's core.
For me, NYC was...exhausting.
I used to explain to people that NYC was simply bustling with too much humanity. That the daily grind made my teeth hurt. And I wasn't exaggerating in the least. I woke up each and everyday with that ever present sense of dread I mentioned a few posts back. (I'd totally hyper link you but since my blog at this point is only four posts, you can find it yourself kids).
I look back at my life there and I am always shocked to find that I truly, deeply, disliked NYC.
I loved my friends. I loved the X. But the city itself never settled into my core, I never had a rush of "oh my god I must live here" before the relocation and it never really found a place in me. Instead it sat like a half-pound blue cheese burger in my gut, perma-settled in my stomach.
And now, I feel lighter. Feel more at home. But the X still keeps me up at night. And maybe its because I finally realized it wasn't her that initiated the desires to throw myself under oncoming subways but rather the city that housed the subways themselves.
And that my friends, is as unsettling a realization as one can have at this stage in the game.
Now NYC for most people is a place where dreams are made. A place that inspires and instigates excitement deep within one's core.
For me, NYC was...exhausting.
I used to explain to people that NYC was simply bustling with too much humanity. That the daily grind made my teeth hurt. And I wasn't exaggerating in the least. I woke up each and everyday with that ever present sense of dread I mentioned a few posts back. (I'd totally hyper link you but since my blog at this point is only four posts, you can find it yourself kids).
I look back at my life there and I am always shocked to find that I truly, deeply, disliked NYC.
I loved my friends. I loved the X. But the city itself never settled into my core, I never had a rush of "oh my god I must live here" before the relocation and it never really found a place in me. Instead it sat like a half-pound blue cheese burger in my gut, perma-settled in my stomach.
And now, I feel lighter. Feel more at home. But the X still keeps me up at night. And maybe its because I finally realized it wasn't her that initiated the desires to throw myself under oncoming subways but rather the city that housed the subways themselves.
And that my friends, is as unsettling a realization as one can have at this stage in the game.
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