In THIS moment

So readers, here it is, 11AM on a Saturday (and I am not at work!).
In fact, I have the entire weekend off.
Just a golden, great weather 2 days all to myself.
In fact, this is the first weekend I have had off since joining the company, that didn't involve some pre-planned event and a request for the time off.
It feels almost like a reward. I mean, I work really hard at my job. I give it 100-120% every day that I am there... and if I am not there, I am thinking about being there, so really it is like 150%.

But before this luxe time off... I had been pondering the ability to stay in the moment. "Stay in the moment" has been the mantra of my BFFFE (Best Friend For F*cking Ever). And in an attempt to not EVER become the person I was in my last relationship, I am adopting it. I am stealing another persons mantra. I am sure the Guru's at St. Stacy's Temple for Wayward-Headstrong-Yet-A-Little-Lost Girls are not happy... But sometimes you have to concede to someone's better idea.

And it is hard. I mean, at a certain age and after a certain amount of experiences you start to migrate out of the moment and become caught up in the figuring/deciphering and you lose the moment. You become so worried that you forget about the moment entirely.
I mean this is a relationship sense.
Think about it.... *daydream state*

Imagine your teenage self with your first (or second or 15th) boyfriend-- note: I am assuming my readership is largely female. And if you are male and reading this, then adjust the verbage. Boyfriend becomes girlfriend. So back to the flashback...
Think back to this first relationship experience (not the one where Jimmy dumped you on the playground after 3hours because Amanda offered him her Oreos--- however, you can see the pattern that starts). And think back to how fresh everything was. And how nights with this person seemed to last forever... What you thought was making out for 15mins turned out to be an hour and a half and your mom was flashing the porch light at you for the last 20
of it. Or how somehow when this guy touched you (don't be gross) you could feel the sparks. Like the first time he held your hand, or the first time he brushed your hair behind your ear (seriously, guys, do this. it melts our icy icy hearts). All these moments we so... "perfect" partially because of the lack of comparison, OR... more likely, could be because you simply didn't know better?
You didn't know that a boy could still kiss you-- then turn around and lie to you-- and keep kissing you. You didn't know that some boys could be so emotionally stunted that what you thought was deep/brooding was really... not. Or that boys could tell you they love you, all the while, not doing anything to convey the sentiment.
NO
You learn all those things down the line, after breakup #1... and so on and so forth. You become jaded, and cynical... but also, protective of yourself. So you start looking for the signs that things are wrong... the signs you missed before (because you didn't know, or couldn't tell, OR maybe Casanova really was a fucking good liar).

Or is it, somehow in our younger days we are so influenced by the media created relationships that we expect... something fictionally amazing. I mean, for me, my early relationship ideals were created by Saved by the Bell, My So Called Life, Gilmore Girls, and Dawson's Creek. And let's face it, no boy can freeze the scene and get out of it. No real guy has the indifferent smoldering look that that Jordan Catallano did. And was there really a choice between Jess and Dean, NO Jess was waaaaaay better. And my heart may still be at war of which was a better choice Dawson or Pacey... (FYI the Dawson Leery:Asshole for Hire is retribution for all the damage he did to girls everywhere.)

Maybe it is that framework plus the retarded amount of romantic-comedies on the market that really have us set up incorrectly for a modern relationship...

Or not. I really don't know. I am sure there is a study about this somewhere, with actual results, and actual numbers. But, I wasn't looking for that. I wasn't looking for conformation of something I already knew. I know modern TV/movies have warped my idea of what love/relationships should be.
And I am ok with that.

BACK TO THE POINT:
Staying in the moment... I have made a deal with myself per my BFFFE's mantra, that I will stay in the moment.
I will not obsess over every pause, non-answer, seemingly cryptic message I get from any boy. I will merge the frame works of what KNOW, what I THINK I KNOW and what I FEEL. And use those categories to make MY best judgment of the situation.

Case in point AND perfect example:
I went out last night with a girlfriend. And for the first time in like, forever, I left my phone in her car and only brought the important stuff with me (DL, credit card and cash) with me to the bar.
Well, I missed the call of a new guy I have been seeing (yes, he has been referenced previously). I instantly felt really bad. Partially because I missed the call, but because of the time of the call (pretty much the moment we were walking away from the car). I didn't see this missed call for like 2 hours.
So, I call him back. I don't get an answer. Which, I kind of expected-- It was midnight or a bit after. It was a Friday night. He has his own life. That didn't detract from the fact that I did want him to answer the phone (even though I didn't-- my own double standard). And for a moment, I ignore all the above facts that I KNEW, and pretty much assumed he was mad (or irritated or something). So I texted (20mins later, plenty of time to return a call if you are handily by your phone) an apology for leaving my phone in my friends car and returning the call so late (it is here I realize I really do apologize WAY too much for things I don't need to.).
I didn't hear from him.
I drive home. I keep trying to will my phone to ring because I feel bad. And because I feel like I need to know if he is mad at me. It doesn't ring.
Once home (approximately 130AM) I crawl into my pj's and hop into bed... Then, I hear from him. He texted me, apologizing for missing my call and text.
This is where I realize I am a total crazy person who worries WAY WAY too much about little things that really don't matter to anyone but me.

So see... perfect example.


Anyways, back to the title... In THIS moment. Which oddly enough isn't to spectacular. I mean, it is Saturday, And I have already cleaned my room, paid my bills, put away all my laundry, watched 2 movies, ate breakfast, read all my websites.... seriously, I've done a lot since 8AM. Which lands me here, taking a break attempting to figure out how to "relax." At least, that is what people are saying I should do. Which is when I realize... I don't know how.
I mean, I keep my self in such a state of worked up frenzy that it is actually painful to relax (no really, massive headaches and muscle aches set in. It sucks.).
So, in honor of "staying in the moment" I am attempting to organize a relaxing day off.

Paper cuts.. only hurt when accidently salted

Ok... So, I pretty much took a week off to enjoy MY BRAND NEW CAR and my friends and my family.

And in spending time with the above cohorts, I figured some more things out....

My new car helped me figure out how capable I am. I mean, I got a 2010 car (gently used) without any help. I did my own negotiations. I did my own trade in. I signed my own contract. I got a monthly payment I am comfortable with. I have not been this proud of myself in a long time. I went out, got what I wanted without any help. I mean, this is my first "big girl" purchase; and I couldn't be happier with it.

My friends helped me figure out that I am just as funny and lovable as I ever was. Even if somehow I lost sight of it. They see it. They remind me of it; by doing what friends do, laughing, joking along with me. My friends also helped me figure out that I am smart (something I had forgotten). And that my far reaching useless knowledge is both amusing and semi-important.

My family helped me figure out that nothing outlasts family. NOTHING. Nothing is more important the "blood". I'll say it here, and probably no where else, but my Ex, was not worthy of my extended family. We are a close knit group who is loud, sarcastic, and we love food (homemade, southern food). I will venture to say the Ex was a little too delicate of palate and in demeanor to "comfortably" fit in with my family.

But in all this figuring, and in all this progress (is it progress? or just re-learning?) I've made, I hit a set back...

I've been talking (I'm not sure where what we are doing fits into the schemata of dating/mating BUT this is the term I am comfortable using) someone new. Talking being the operative because it is what we do. We talk, fact, we also hang out but there is a lot of talking happening. But I'm moving away from my point.
I am talking to someone new.
And I have caught myself getting caught up in the habits of my last relationship sneaking into this one.

HOLD IT. HABITS?? WAIT A MINUTE.....
Yes, I caught myself acting like I did with my Ex. Second guessing every move I make, to call/or not. Did I say something wrong? Re-reading every message I sent to make sure I didn't say something wrong.
THAT IS INSANE.
While, this situation is new and fresh and therefore makes me incredibly nervous. It shouldn't be to the point of obsessively combing over every text I send looking for a flaw. I mean, he met me on a night when I was in "fine form" (meaning a couple of beers deep and feeling a bit sassy). I don't think he is obsessively looking for flaws in my textual contacts.
Also, I am terrified to call him.
I mean, I can't do it (unless it is to return a missed call). This is because of a litany of excuses the Ex made about not ever calling. Something about headaches, heat, and possibly brain cancer...

So here I am, entering something new, already a bit freaked out about it (only because he is sweet, charming, responsible and all around good guy-- for now, maybe he has a flaw, that I haven't found yet... but it's only been like 2 weeks) and then I have there little paper cuts (little damages left behind from a relationship) from the last guy...

THEN I get a get a text from the Ex.
UGH.
I mean, really... OK. So I took a step and de-friended him on Facebook. Not out of spite, but in realizing I don't think there is any level of relationship there anymore (not right now for sure). And after everything that went down, that's what he noticed? We are no longer FB friends??
Right. And he decided to ask about it in his weird text speak...
Well... Yeah. We are no longer FB friends... Why would we be?

To me that was a little salt in my tiny paper cuts.
I mean, really. A month post break-up you decided to talk to me. OK.
I have no interest in talking to him. I have said everything I need to say, and asked all the questions I had. Even if the answers were unsatisfactory and the discussions lead nowhere.

I moved on.

Plain and simple.

Relationships are A LOT like cars

Sitting here waiting on my car to be fixed, I started checking out new and used cars. And it dawned on me just how much relationships are like cars.

I brought my car in today for a basic procedure. An oil change and a state inspection. Only to find out I need 2 new tires (which I already knew), windshield wipers, a light, and probably some brake light fluid.
Now, before I brought my car in I knew about the tires. I knew about the wipers too.
So how did this tie back to relationships?
Easy.
I knew the relationship had problems ( tires and wipers ).
And I tried fixing them (replacing) and I also tried ignoring them.
And yet it didn't work.
So, here I am shelling out $360 for my car repairs. Also looking at new ones, because I couldn't believe it.
That's exactly how my last relationship went.
I did everything I knew to do, paid my dues, and was pissed that it was all for naught.
But wait....
I'm on the lot (single) and looking for a new or gently used car (boy).

That is how it goes. Some mundane yet completely exasperating event happens in your day, and you are thrust into the realization of how simple and silly your problem was.

So here I sit waiting on my financials to come back.
Slowly realizing that paying for my car (if I get a new one) my be my longest relationship to date.

I'm O.K.

Dear Readers,
My apologies for leaving you alone this weekend. As it turns out, I have a life; for the first time in a very long time I was out and about conquering the world.
Thanks.
AE

Now with that out of the way, I can get on with the good stuff.

This weekend, I realized I am fine.
Being out this weekend, with a friend and friends of my friend. It dawned on me... I. Am. Fine.

After dealing with this breakup aftermath, I realized I had a few way to deal with it. I could a) be bitter and resentful b) be depressed and debilitated or c) be me.

I chose option C.
I forced myself to go and be with a friend. A friend, sadly, I inadvertently ignored because I was so absorbed with fixing sh!t with my former boyfriend.
SO, in going out with her, she introduced me to her friends.
Who seemed to really like me. Maybe they didn't, but they laughed at my jokes (not at me for making them) and made me feel at ease with them.
For the first time in a long time I wasn't worried about looking perfect or behaving perfect (I am notorious for spillage and breakage). I was me.

I was the me that I had forgotten to be (so cheesy I know).
And somehow ended up in a group of peers (no one was much more than +/- 2 years of myself) who have an understanding (and an appreciation) for my line of work (slanging tees) and the bizarre-o hours I keep. People who didn't make me feel like a fool for going to college for what I did and then not following with a career right afterward.

And ya know what the biggest kicker of it was, something that I forgot how much I enjoy... These people appreciate cheap beer, pool and darts.

I love cheap beer, but was made fun of for it (with my ex).
I love a smoky bar with pool tables and darts (my ex abhorred it).

I think over the course of a relationship you sacrifice some of the small things that make you, you.

So now, post-breakup, I can see that (again) and I am working on getting back to being me.

The me that I enjoy. The me that others (seem) to enjoy.

And I'm ok with that.

I am fine.

No, I am more than fine... I am... (in the process of regaining) Me.

And this too shall mend

The surgery went well, my mom is doing great; just a few days of minimal movement and no heavy lifting. So, in hindsight, all my worry was really all for naught. But I still maintain it was my mom, so I have every right to worry.

Moving on... I think, that I can be on the mend.
I mean, in all honesty, I think I was preemptively mending. I mean, I knew my relationship was on the rocks (hence, me asking for a break). I knew we divided on some major issues and had very different views on things. I think I was trying to bring something back. I think I was trying to hang on to something from when we first started dating. Because once upon a time, things were good, and we were both happy (but who wants to read that story??!).

And then... things changed. There was a shift. Things happened, I switched jobs and moved (I will forever wonder if that move on my part was the beginning of the end); he graduated from UNT and it was taking a little while to find a reasonable job. And from there, things kept changing.... the way things tend to do.

I being the naive woman that I sometimes let myself be in a relationship, thought, "hey, this is just a rough patch; things will get better, things will be ok." And they would be, for a little while. And then they wouldn't be, for a while.

And I, being the even more naive girl than I would like to admit... thought that still, STILL, things might work out. Especially because I subsist on a steady diet of Jane Austen.

So, even pre-break up, I was seeing the picture of us and any illusions of ANY type of future together slowly dissolving away. And now, post-break up, I can clearly see just how much I was giving up to give to him, and how much I was willing to concede to him to make him happy. It is now, I can grasp how unfair that is (blah blah blah life is not fair blah blah blah) to me.

NOTE: this is my self-coined "selfish help", this is ALL ABOUT ME and MY SIDE of the story.

Things I was more than willing to do for him during the duration of our relationship:
+ see him at his place, with him spending minimal time at my place because it is "too far" "not comfortable" "inconvenient" (this was "true" not matter where I lived)
+ reduce my communication with him to pretty much only texting ( talking on the phone made is "head hot and caused headaches") p.s. if you have not noticed, I am a writer (of sorts) and need a little more than 160 characters to make myself clear.
+ see him at his convenience based on his schedule with little regard for my own (leave at 5am to be in Dallas by 7am. sure. drive after work at 10pm to spend the night and part of the day with him. sure.)

That is a short list. There are other, more trivial and more private matters, that I could air out here... but I like to think I am above that.

Maybe you're wondering why I did that, fit myself into those parameters... Well, because I love(d?) him (parenthetical d? because my feelings of him are shelved. I cannot look at them. I cannot entertain them.). And because deep deep down I really believed that if I could give him what he needed; he, in kind, would return the favor.

Well, I ran out of patience before that happened.

Someone, PLEASE explain to me how long I was supposed to keep giving and doing and going and shifting to give someone only to feel continually like it was a) not enough b) not correct and c) like there was no return appreciation/reciprocation.
Tell me. Show me the math equation of how time and distance factor into patience and persistence, subtract desire, add differing measures of affection, subtract some intimacy....

OH WAIT. Those are not QUANTIFIABLE.
There is no equation (ok, I have created one, but don't trust my math-- I was never any good), not a real one. With a real solution.

I digress...
Here I am, knowing what I've done for this person, and just how much further I might have been willing to go (sorry readers, we don't know how that ends). So... What happens now?

I know I can no longer attempt to reach out. No reply materializes. Which, upon meditation, is upsetting. Why? Because it is like I no longer exist an it is as if there was never a relationship at all. IF that is the case, and IF that is show this proceeds; I want ALL my shit back. I want every token of my affection I proffered. All notes, cards, keep the gifts. I want all my creative property back. I don't want him to have the pleasure of being able to reminisce about my poetic waxing of him. So, yeah, I find this upsetting...

So what do I have now?


All I have is me... and you know what? (you say "no" )


I am pretty fucking awesome.

Matters of the Heart

In a serious matter... My mom is having surgery tomorrow (to have a pacemaker put in). And the amount of worry I have about this has factored into everything. I'm not performing as well at work, and I am completely consumed by this fear to an almost irrational point.

So... how does this factor into me dealing with a break up?
Easy.
My former boyfriend and I were very close. And he is also the closest to me (physically), all my friends live rather far away.

I realize in him dumping me that I must relinquish ANY ideas that he might answer a phone call.

Yes, I, in a fit wiggingthefuckout called him.
Yes, it was very, very... it wasn't a good idea, lets just say that.
I'm sure you're asking "why the hell would you call the guy who dumped you" and "are you crazy" and any other questions that I am pretty sure I am too embarrassed to want to answer.

Let me say this: IF (and it is a big if) the tables were turned, if he was going through something like this. I would put the BS of a break up aside; and realize that someone I care very deeply for is going through something very tough for them. I would also realize that if he was as isolated as I feel (friends and family flung here and there and everywhere, but none with in a 30 min comfort inducing drive away), than I would put the break up BS aside. And attempt to be there in the capacity that they would let me.
HOWEVER. I realize that not everyone is me. Not everyone would react as I would. I also realize I am asking for something very difficult.

And also (here comes the angry-dumped-girl) I feel he owes me. Within the last year I had an aunt pass (from cancer), and I took her passing very hard: a) she was amazing and it is a true loss to our family and b) it was my first adult death shocking me into the real reality of mortality. To put it mildly, when I went to him in support during this mater, he did not handle the situation well. He has admitted that he handled it poorly (even if it was during the the break up convo MONTHS after the fact) and apologized. So, yeah, I kinda think I am owed one very understanding/comforting conversation, at least.

Yes, I realize I could have called a friend, or another family member. Yes, I could have just not picked up my phone at all. Yes, I could have just sat in my car and got my self together before I moved it. Yes, I could just accept that everything is going to be fine because this is a routine procedure that is done all day every day everywhere blah blah blah...

But, I am not. I did call a friend. I did sit in my car for awhile, just not long enough. And I have no other choice to accept that yes, everything will be fine. And I will admit, that the biggest reason I wanted to talk to him was because I wanted comfort. I wanted someone to reach out to me, for me. Hold me close and comfort me. I wanted someone to make me FEEL that everything would really be ok.

That is why, readers, I called.

Parting Gifts aka.. other sh!t I left at your place

After a weekend full of work, a little play and a little alcohol... I don't know if I have any better grip on my situation.

Blah blah blah Broken heart blah blah blah disappointed blah blah blah (insert woe is me statement).

But I did do some thinking. And, Well... Let me tell you what. I am a little flabbergasted.
Let me explain...

When I last saw my former boyfriend, I brought him Christmas presents (ok, hold your horses, I have a method to my madness); the Christmas presents for him and his parents. NOW. I brought his parents gifts because they have done NOTHING but be beyond considerate and accepting of me infiltrating their home with my strange American ways. His presents on the other hand, were more of a ... peace offering. My way of saying "I-know-it's-been-rough-but-see-things-are-ok".

And if you remember the earlier entry, I just literally grabbed my shhhh and left. I was too busy forcing my panic stricken self to remember to grab my jacket and purse that I forgot the bag of gifts. I left them there.

I know, lame...
I should have grabbed it, I should have been more aware... I should have... left it in my g.d. car. But I didn't. Why? Because I am a nice person. A well mannered person. I bought those gifts for them. The money was already spent. True to form, I did tear all the wrapping paper off in a fit of rage. And tossed all the ribbons in the paper shredder I got for Christmas. I don't know why. I can only assume that it was a my way of regaining control or my way of completely destroying evidence that something I worked so hard on suddenly was useless,and didn't matter, to the person it needed to matter to.

So why was I upset; after already undoing the presentation? Because, I wanted acknowledgment. I wanted to be thanked. I wanted that despite our situation, I am a thoughtful, sincere person who will still do nice things and will be unwavering in my good nature, despite any and almost all circumstances.
OK. THAT is a lot to ask for....
But how about a) thanks for the presents or b) hey why did you leave this bag of stuff here.
Either option would be ok.
AND according to my Emily Post book; you send a thank you acknowledgment within a week, but can take 2-3 depending on the occasion (i.e. couple leaving on a honeymoon).

This, readers, got me thinking. What other things are still P.O.W's of this break-up: hair products (dry shampoo and Aquanet), my good toothbrush, numerous ponytail holders and possibly a pair of good black underwear. And my biggest concerns, honestly are the dry shampoo and the toothbrush (I am a girl with priorities).
And admittedly, I still have a bottle of his bodywash (I know, again, lame.) It in a drawer in my vanity, it's not like it is hanging out in my shower (or, like I'm sniffing it every so often. That would just be weird).

But this brings me to another place. The place where I have a patented way of leaving boys. Granted, it has only been used a few (less than 4) times. Below are the rules and subsequently, how far I deviated from them:

1. Do NOT leave until he mentions 2 (AT LEAST) ex's. If you are 1000% sure you want to leave, mention 2 of your ex's, then see what happens. I didn't mention ANY of his (but he brought one of mine up). I should have. I dealt of the relics of his relationships past for almost the entirety of our relationship: a- notes to him kept under a ring box containing the ring he got/gave to her b- bottles of perfume belonging to an ex (or multiples, seriously, Clinique Happy, g-r-o-s-s.) c- the constant "reminder" that I "chose" my crazy stalker ex "over" him when we first met (that is an uphill battle I was never going to win, regardless of the fact that, THAT is not at all how it was).

2. Once you decide to go, say ONLY nice things about him to your friends, his friends. Say the things you KNOW they will repeat later. My friends know enough both good and bad. And they will maintain that I still think too highly of him. And for dinner on eve of this fateful night, I had dinner with a married couple he is friends with. I spoke only the highest of him, even invited him to join us, and didn't breathe a word of just what a wreck our situation was. They are his friends, he broke up with me, I maintain that it is his responsibility to relay to his friends why I am no longer around.

3. Leave things. Yes, leave things. If you have a relationship where you stay over frequently and/or live together leave things. IF YOU DO NOT: do not leave things (this makes it really creepy). Leave your hairbands, leave your travel toothbrush, leave leave that brand of mustard you love and all those leftover packets of soy sauce. Trust, he will be too lazy to get rid of them. And yes, he will think of you when he sees them. AND yes, the next round of girls will ask as well. OH, wait.... I accidentally did it.

4. If you HAVE to say something mean. Or you are totally provoked. Say the mean things with such tones of sweetness. That same one you use to tell him he looks great (when he really does) or how much you care about him. THINK: fuck you must ring like I love you. I think I was too busy feeling my heart being ripped out to really do this. I sat there like a crying mess. A pathetic crying mess.

5. Make sure the last time he sees you is in the morning. I know this is because this can haunt a man all day, OR if you are not coming back, leave him going "wtf-things-were-ok-at-breakfast". I chose evening. I guess I hope my pathetic image would haunt his sleep... or something. I don't know.

6. Leave a note. A simple one page or less note. DO NOT sign your name. ps, use nice paper, not a post-it or a scrap. Didn't do this either.

7. Once out of any shared space and into your space. Cry. Cry quietly and politely. DO NOT CRY LIKE A DYING ANIMAL. DO NOT. It wont make you feel better. You will end up hoarse. And then people will ask if you are ok... which will only bring on another round of sobs. SOOOOOOO got this one wrong too. awesome.

So you can see, reader(s). I mucked it up left and right.

Now what do you do

After my head over-haul, which looks AWESOME (very Haley Williams x Drew Barrymore + a little haute couture runway), I am facing the weekend. This is my first weekend to face the break up.

OK the break up happened on the 30th, which means NYE was my weekend to face break up. Like I was actually dealing with the break up on the 30th. I was busying making sure I had enough celebration potion to not think about it.

So this weekend, I am taking yesterdays theme and doing what I want to do. And I have not clue what that is, at all.

To me, it means possibly going out (and test driving my new hair), working (being forced to show off my hair) and.... whatever else happens to come muh way.

What am You doing? and again, "you" means "me"

I have learned one thing, a big thing, since the break up (ok, maybe I knew it before).

You can only control yourself (yet sometimes, i don't think that THAT is entirely true).

So since I can only control myself, I am putting myself first.
Now, to untrained eyes and ears, this seems very selfish. And maybe, it is. But, it might not.

See, the way relationships go... you get distorted (hear me out, before you start going all no-I-don't-change-for-any-man). At first it is little things, like, he liked the way you wore your hair that day; so you do it more often. Which, over time graduates to things like growing your hair out for him (I'm not sure why all the hair analogies), because he likes long hair. Which over even more time means you do things because he likes or doesn't like them. Like, you go to the theaters he likes, even if you would be just as happy at the g.d. dollar theater. But also, the language of the relationship changes. There aren't as many I statements. There are "we" or "he" statements.
Then again... this is just me.

So, since I got all distorted because of the he-we-us. I am sending myself to me rehab.

I am going to attempt to find myself after I pull myself out of my "relationship addiction." (yes, I am one of those who always finds herself inadvertently in a relationship)

I don't know how to do this exactly. I have never found a lot of "joy" or "pleasure" in putting myself first. But, in not doing so, I've lost sight of the things I enJOY and find pleasure in. The only way I can see around this is my makeshift multi-step (because I have no clue how many there are) program.



STEP ONE: Wash the Man, right out of your life
Once you've bared your soul to the man that has broken your heart and you have traded POW's. There is no doubt in my mind that you did what I did... Cry to your best friend, and then, most likely cry/wallow in your pillows.
What do you do now?
You wash.
You wash everything. Wash all your dirty clothes (hey, broken hearts can save the environment one full load at a time). Wash anything that he liked but you haven't worn (unless it is dry clean only), consider this like a ritual cleansing. BUT be careful. Please, in the heat of all this cleaning, do follow are care instructions. OH and check for colored items in your white, no one wants colors bleeding all over the place.

Also, wash and change your sheets. I mean, if your sleeping in crumbs (ew) and your pillows have mascara on them and your sleeping on them... ew again, AND you're not doing your skin any favors (that is another lesson all together).

Once you have all your clothes clean, dried and put away. You have new sheets on your bed.
You have to wash the man out of your hair.
This is crucial. I don't know why.
You can go the expensive route, go to a salon, and get your hair did. The level of commitment here is really flexible. Like, you could just go and get a trim, or a fab blowout, or just get highlights OR get a complete makeover.
My suggestion, is keep it subtle-ish. The phrase I use is "sexy upgrade" when I talk with the stylist. This gets their wheels turning, and you can hear their suggestions. Remember this is your hair. This is your treat to yourself. DO WHAT YOU WANT.

There is a "cost effective" (aka affordable aka cheap) way to do this. Do it yourself. NOTE I do not recommend anyone cut their own hair (except for the occasional bang trim or split end snip). I do recommend using the good shampoo (usually samples I pick up from the salon after I spend a fortune) and conditioner. I have learned the best deep conditioning treatment (aside from some masque or a salon treatment) is a layer of conditioner, and wrapping your hair in cellophane. Something about the heat (75% of body heat escapes through your head) and the conditioner and 10-15 mins make your hair suuuuuper soft.

So this is my project today... besides cleaning my boudoir.
1) all of my laundry.
2) and a hair cut @ 4

So THAT is what I am doing.

maybe I'll post a picture... or something.

What can you do? and by "you" I mean "me"

Before I can determine what to do... I guess I should tell you what I did.

After being unceremoniously dumped... and I say this because a) it was THE SECOND TIME and b) I was left crying in my car in an Albertson's parking lot because I was in no condition to drive (somehow mascara was bleeding into my contacts basically making me blind). I did what any girl (that I know) does... Throw myself into work all the while questioning "What the hell happened?" "What did I do wrong?" and the litany of other questions that are in line for the revolving door of the female post break-up mind.

After a few days (New Years Eve, New Years Day.... ), a few cocktails, and a few Barnes & Nobel trips (and Library trips). I took myself on a day trip (not after the cocktails, obviously). I took myself to all the places that we had, in my opinion, some of our best times.

I took myself to The Kimball Art Museum, where we had one of our first "dates" to see the Impressionists exhibit. Where I realized just how much I appreciated his appreciation for the finer things in life (real. known. art.). Also where I started liking him all that much more because he ignored the audio tour of the museum like I did. And because I could see him watching me as I wandered from painting to painting instead of going in order or whatever... the organized creativity of art museums is always a little irritating to me. It was once I was outside the museum where I realized that was where I had butterflies in my stomach waiting for him to meet me.

I took myself to The Flying Saucer. A pub with a ridiculously large selection of beer. Where I remember having some of our more entertaining moments (and photo ops-- I have a small selection of photos for that day) and some of our better conversations. Somehow, here, at this pub, we managed to have some of the most memorable conversations... maybe it's the beer, or the constant din of waitresses, bottles, glasses and plates where you're convinced no one can hear you; that you open up and let some of those little guards down. You laugh a little louder, you speak a little free-er.

*note: I can imagine that you think I am torturing myself, and maybe I am... BUT I do have a point to this*

I took myself to Downtown Fort Worth (granted that is where the Flying Saucer is...) and the Stockyards where we had another one of our first dates. Here I remembered how we walked and talked. And how I gave him a pseudo history lesson on Forth Worth history (which I will never know if he appreciated or cared that have an extensive amount of knowledge on the history of our cowtown). This when I also introduced him to my FAVORITE burger joint, The Love Shack (I also have extensive knowledge of where the best burgers are).

And the last place I went in the tour of good-times-we-had, was the Fort Worth Botanic Gardens
where we spent a dreary winter afternoon alone wandering the gardens and taking pictures. It was pretty much just the two of us. It was winter, nothing was largely in bloom and the weather was overcast and chilly (why we chose to go, I am still not quite sure). But we went, and I enjoyed it. I still have the huge acorn like thing that I found in the parking lot in my car as a reminder of that day.

In wandering the garden on MY cold winter day, camera in hand; I understand what Thoreau was saying about nature. Granted I prefer the Disney version where little birds and squirrels help me get ready for the day. BACK TO THE POINT...

In my empty nature escape, I gave a lot of thought to my hand in the relationship. I kept thinking "DID I DO EVERYTHING I COULD TO MAKE THIS WORK" (no, I wasn't yelling at myself, but I need this question to stand out).
And I could answer yes. Yes, I did do everything I could. I consulted friends for solutions, Cosmo, and more relationship books from TWO public libraries then I would want my library history to show.

So after this day of meditation and revisiting... I saw him (for the first time since the break up). It was to talk and exchange our POW's (you know, the items you leave around during the relationship that are suddenly hostages that you need to liberate after a break up).
He didn't want to meet, he said he had a bad day at work. I, was very pushy and pretty much demanded to be met (not the way back into a mans heart/arms, I admit). So we did. We exchanged things. And we talked. I got answers to the question "Why can't this work?"... And truthfully, I am not satisfied with the answers, still. But I realize my window for answers has closed. So I can Nancy Drew it on my own from here on out.
During our talk, I told him of my walk down memory lane and the things I thought about it. And, because I am CLEARLY a glutton for punishment, I told him that missed him and how I still felt about him. And he said he had to "think about all the things I said."

I wanted to bolt. In the silence after that statement, every fiber of my being was saying RUN. But I couldn't.

So instead, I got up, threw away my wad of tissues that were basically black from mascara and grabbed my purse and jacket and said, "I'll leave you alone so you can think" And walked out, and quietly shut the door behind me.

AND RAN DOWN THE STAIRS AND GRABBED MY SHOES AND RAN OUT THE FRONT DOOR.

I think I barely shut the door (which now I feel bad about) and I RAN down the street, barefoot, to my car. I could have stopped, I could have stopped when I was out of the house. But I didn't. I only stopped when I was in my car because my heart was beating like a cornered hummingbird and I couldn't breathe.

It was at this point, I realize that he did come after me. That he didn't say anything. That he didn't try to stop me from FLEEING. And that... that really turned the water works on for me. I couldn't believe that the man whose Rom-Com movie library is so extensive couldn't make a move for me.

So there I was, crying in my car down the street from his house realizing he wasn't coming after me... and I had a 30min drive home.

So that... Dear reader(s) is what I did. I bared my soul and innermost thought to the man I love(d? because now I am re-evaluating) only to be not moved for. I imagine he was sitting in his ergonomic office chair in front of his computer, facing his piano (or maybe he turned to the monitor) listening for my car to start and me to be gone. I imagine he didn't shed a tear.

I imagine, he didn't really care.

So now, I have admitted what I did. Maybe now I can figure out what to do.

What do I do now?

Introduction

I guess this is where I explain what this bloggity-blog is all about.

It is about going through it. Getting over it. And getting past it.

NOW. This is by no means a "self help" blog... more of a "selfish help" space. I am writing this for my benefit, and your amusement. HOWEVER. Any insight or comic commentary is helpful, accepted and appreciated.

I guess now I should explain the "it" that I am going through, and wanting to get over and get past.

I, reader(s), have been dumped (for a second time... by the same man). Save your tsk-tsk-tsk for another entry. Since this is the INTRODUCTION blog, you get the back story, the meat of the matter... then you can start going for my throat, and telling me what and idiot I am. There is another blog, a precursor if you will, that details the first half of our relationship ( The Swiss Miss Chronicles ).

I can cliff notes the rest of it for you as follows:
a) broke up last Feb. 15 (I know, super awesome that 1. he dumped me the day after Valentine's Day and 2. got back together with him even though he dumped me on of the day after Valentine's Day)
b) got back together March/April
c) had a very up and down relationship from then till December

And from there it is a very knotted and emotional mess... December sucked.

Which puts me where I am now... 5 days into the new year, reeling from a broken heart, left licking my wounds.

I am left with questions, that I did hear answers (confusing and unsatisfactory answers) and a wealth of insight from the other side of the relationship (every story has two sides, blah blah blah).
BUT... THIS is not about the other side of a relationship.

I mean really, as we (women, mostly I assume) go through a tremendous break up we don't sit around comparing sides of the story. NO. We go through every move we made, and the reaction it got. We go through the dialogue. We go through our feelings. We try to adjust our footing based on our perception of the reality we are in (ohhhhhhhh all matrix-y). And why do we do this? Because it is is all you can do.

Which brings me to my departure and a preview of the next blog.

WHAT CAN YOU DO?