Moving On

Posted on January 16, 2013 by upthestairs87

moving-forward

And late at night, while you’re lying in your bed alone, wishing it was still our home, but we both know…it’s too late. -Tristan Prettyman, I Was Gonna Marry You

Well this is it, this is the week I find out that he has started dating someone else. He’s moved on. It actually happened quite a while ago but he just now told me. I thought this would be the next devastating thing I would have to go through after the actual breakup. I’ve been holding tightly, bracing myself for the emotional impact of this moment.

And now I can say that I feel…pity. And I mean that in the least condescending, bitchy way that an ex girlfriend can say that word. Keep in mind that I still hold no hate or anger toward him, so anything I write, I write out of love for who I once knew.

Of course I had my first few minutes of the mandatory tears because I’m human but they weren’t because I was feeling like I’d officially lost him, no, that happened many months ago, even before we’d ever broken up. He hadn’t been mine for a while. I only shed the quiet tears at the sting of how quickly it had happened and how little it showed that I had meant to him. I wept for what I had wanted us to be, not at what we really ever were.

Then I moved onto pity because the realization that he had moved on so fast finally set in. He jumped into something else feet first, almost immediately after our break, just like he did everything else. So the realization I had was that this new woman is me, and the girl before me, and the girl before that, and the girl before that and the list goes on.

He had always tried to say I was different then the rest because with every other ex he would spend just a few months with them, only long enough so he had someone to talk to while away, and then move on. I was ‘special’ because he held onto me longer. I’m not like that. I can’t handle relationships that way. I’ve had 3 boyfriends including him and this is how they went: My high school boyfriend lasted 3 months and when I broke that off I didn’t date anyone else for another 4 years. Then it was my college boyfriend for another 3 months and after I ended that I waited another 4 years before I met the most recent. This is because my biggest fear has always been wasting my time with someone who I knew wouldn’t work out. So I never jumped without looking and I never held on for longer than I should, until recently.

Back a few months before we ended, when he was home, something happened between us that shattered my soul. I haven’t talked about it much, only with a select few, and I don’t know if I really ever will. But during that time my heart was silently breaking into a million pieces and he refused to acknowledge it at all. His ignorance to my pain only made the seeds of hate grow inside of me. Then 2 weeks later he left on the ship and I made plans to leave him also. This was going to be it, I couldn’t stay in that unhealthy environment anymore. I never told him that because true to his pattern as soon as he departed I was bombarded with the pleas, the begging and even the tears, convincing me to stay with him a while longer. And I fell for it. Again. Because if I gave up and left, then that would mean I’d wasted my time and that would be the ultimate disappointment to myself.

But he had this pattern every time, no matter how small or big our problems were when he was home, he always made sure to smooth them over quickly with kisses and promises before he left again, but only just right before he left, never sooner. The fear of going out to sea without someone here to lean on during his months of depression terrified him and yet I couldn’t fully see that until it was all over. I kept believing he was clinging to me because he just loved me that much.

So that is why I feel sadness for him but I won’t spend too much time thinking about it, because that’s what this blog is about, to get all that out. I just hope that this is the one who will make him happy, happier than I could, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted. My goal throughout our entire relationship was to see him smile and the unhappy pain in his eyes that I saw within our last few weeks together ripped my heart in two, I felt like a failure. I knew he was struggling to find something that I could no longer provide him.

I’ll end this by saying that there is something to be said about being alone, people often look at singles like they are diseased. (Believe me I’ve been there many times in my 4 year spans) But I think it’s harder to see someone that can’t be alone. So no, you aren’t going to see any relationship changes to my FB anytime soon. No pictures of me kissing a new bearded face. I’m in no rush to put a warm hand to my loneliness. The loneliness has had a way of teaching me things I hadn’t even considered before, and I found that it’s not really as lonely as it sounds. So I will keep cherishing it for as long as I’m able to.

And that’s how I move on.

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The Beginning of the End

Posted on January 14, 2013 by upthestairs87

woman-crying

This following short story was written right after things ended with me and him, when the feelings I had were still fresh and raw. It was the first thing Id’ written in 2.5 years and I’d chosen to share it with only a select few. I’m at the point now where it’s okay to share these things. The feelings that were there before, aren’t anymore and I’m glad I can look back at the girl who wrote these words down with tears in her eyes and say, “You’re so much happier now.” I still write about the pain and sorrow of losing a person you thought would be there for your whole life because I know so many people that are going through the same struggle. The stories people have reached out and shared with me basically telling the same thing over and over again is heartbreaking. So I will continue to write these things so someone out there knows they aren’t alone, and that holding onto unhappiness isn’t worth it in the end. I promise you.

The room is dark and quiet except for the whir of the fan. She glances over at the smooth, cold, side of the bed, his side. The pillow is rumpled in a way that proves he’s been there before and the balled up sheets in the corner give off his scent, something she’s found, she can no longer sleep without. Her night stand holds her watch which slowly ticks reminding her as each second passes that he’s still not here. She reaches over and warms the cold side with her hand and breathes in that moment.

Her mind is racing, he’s not back yet and this worries her. She’s confused and frustrated, she never used to worry, she never used to get this upset, but his behavior the last two months has left her anxious and insecure. As she lay there alone, she tries to push down the memories that keep trying to pop up but it’s to no avail. A small one begins to creep through and she shuts her eyes tight trying to block out the pain.

It was another late night and she was in bed waiting for him to come home. She’d been with him earlier but the bitterness he’d held over the night when she was around was beyond painful and she’d hope by giving him some space he’d have come around by now. He finally showed up and she could tell because she woke to the smell of booze and the heat from his body. She glanced at the clock and noticed she had to be to work in a mere 4 hours, still, she rolled over and wrapped her arms around his warm body and held him close. The sickly, sweet smell radiating off his body made her stomach turn but she gently kissed his naked back and whispered, “I love you.” To which he muttered something incoherent back.

What felt like a short time after, she was startled awake by a loud crash and some muttering. Immediately she jumped up and turned on her light, what she saw in front of her twisted her stomach. He was on the floor and the dresser was on top of him. She jumped up to help and saw glass shattered all around, that’s when she saw the blood. He was cut and bleeding, she looked to him for help as she lifted the dresser off of him. He instead proceeded to pull away from her grasp and crawl over to the corner. “Still drunk.” She realized quickly, setting her anger aside as she usually did when this happened. She then ran into the bathroom holding back the tears that threatened to spill over and grabbed bandages, then went over and begged him to let her help. After some cajoling she got him to give her his hand and she slowly and carefully cleaned and wrapped it. It took more quiet promises and small touches but she finally got him back up and into bed. As she lay down exhausted she glanced again at the clock, 1 more hour until she was up again.

She grabs one of her many pillows that fills their bed and places it over her face, willing the memories to stop, willing the clock to stop and willing for the sound of his tire tracks in the driveway. That memory that found it’s way through wasn’t even the worst part of that night and it was like torture that her brain felt pleasure in giving her. “When did I become the last person he wanted to be around?” She thinks as the tears fill her lids. As she silently cries a happier memory from months before the last fill her mind, as if her brain is apologizing for it’s cruelty but she continues to cry a little harder because those are the worst to bear.

They were on the beach, the air had bites of cold in it but was still warm enough to walk around on the rocks, exploring the area. It had been his idea to come down here and she was pleased because she knew he didn’t particularly like it, so she knew it had been only for her benefit. They walked around hand and hand, something she also knew he wasn’t normally comfortable with. She looked up and smiled at him and he led them over to a spot where they sat and looked out on the beautiful coastline. She laid her head on his shoulder and felt comforted as he began to vocalize his thoughts for their life together. “How did I get so lucky?” She thought as the happiness swelled inside her. 

Now she’s up pacing the hallway, glancing out the window for any sign of him. Her phone lights up with messages from his friends and family, all out looking for him. The alcohol that had been on his breathe when he’d left earlier has everyone’s hearts racing as they search for him in the dark. Panic sets in her heart. She has never cared for anyone so deeply as to be this worried. Thoughts of him being injured on the side of the road break her heart in two. She sits on the bed wishing she could leave and go out searching like the rest but knows that it’s best she stay where she is and just wait. This makes her feel like a shell of a person that she once was. This quivering, worried, uncertain girl is not the same one he met that short time ago. As she sits staring down, hoping the phone will ring with his picture in the background another thought comes flooding back like a tidal wave.

Vacation, the windy city, just a year before. From the moment they’d left for the airport that morning he’d had a black cloud over them. Angry about something but not willing to speak up. She knew better than to ask, she didn’t want to risk a potentially happy trip. She’d hoped this was a passing feeling and he would be over it soon, as he usually was. “How could he be upset, we’ve been looking forward to this weekend for so long.” She thought to herself as they boarded the plane. As the trip wore on his agitation and patience with her only became more and less. He rolled his eyes when she couldn’t keep up with him walking the streets, and he cringed when she asked that they do shopping or sightseeing. She was used to dodging his bad moods and usually could put him back in a pleasant one but this one wasn’t changing, everything she did just seemed to make him angrier. As the weekend wore on she gave up trying and confronted him about it. What followed was a blow up that had never occurred between them to that extent before, he claimed she was ruining his vacation by not letting him relax and she begged him to tell her how that could be possible. Nothing came from the argument that night and she felt the loneliest she’d ever felt with someone else sleeping just a fingertips length away from her.

Finally the call comes in, it’s him. A sense of relief fills her from head to toe and she immediately answers. “Hello?!” She says her voice cracking. “What the hell?!” Is his response. “What’s with all the calls, you, my mom, and my sister have been calling me non-stop.” He asks trying to sound indifferent but there is an anger underneath. “I’m sorry, we were worried. Your family called upset that you hadn’t made it home yet and I’ve just had all these thoughts going through my mind and..and…I can’t lose you, I just can’t do it.” She says this all in a rush, trying to get it all out before the tears come. His voice gets softer and he says, “Hey it’s okay baby, I’m okay. I’ll be home soon. Don’t worry, I just went for a ride to blow off some steam.” His tone is assuring but his words cut deeper. At first a blur of good memories blaze through her, their first date and way he looked at her, the moment he told her he loved her, all the lazy Sundays and inside jokes. But then reality sets in. “Why isn’t he home? Why can’t he be home? Why can’t I be the one to make him feel better?” She finally speaks again, her voice under control, “Okay, I love you.” “Love you too.” He says quietly back.

The night’s crisis is over but this is still another day out of many since he’s been home that she’s cried over her confusion as to why she can’t keep him close anymore. ‘I love you’ doesn’t hold the same tenderness and respect it has for many months before and it hurts her heart too much to wonder what that means.

She begins to drift off to sleep with a restless feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. Knowing that tomorrow will bring no more comfort than today.The end is nearing, she can feel it, but as tears roll down her cheeks and onto her pillow she sends a prayer out that she’ll be okay anyway.

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Facebook Slave

Posted on January 11, 2013 by upthestairs87

fb

Facebook is that friend you love to hate. The one you wish you could walk away from, but can’t separate yourself from at the risk of losing all the juicy gossip they tell. Facebook also emotes feelings. Feelings that I don’t necessarily want. It makes me feel jealousy, fear, longing and a list of other sins. I’m thankful my ex got rid of his page after we broke up because the torture of having to see him on there would be horrible. I’ll admit it. The only downside to him being invisible in the internet realm, is that I wanted to get rid of my own page but now that seems impossible. When we first started dating I closed mine down, I decided it wasn’t worth the time I was wasting. But he had concerns about that, mostly he was afraid it meant I was ‘up to something’. So now I’m stuck with the FB, through addiction and fear of copying an ex.

So since I’m stuck with it, I really hope FB never releases a way for their users to see whose been viewing their page and how many times, because honestly my first reason would be that it would confirm that I am my own top follower and the second is that nearly everyone I’m friends with on there would find me at least in their top 10, I’m sure. I’m addicted to being nosy. I like to know exactly what everyone’s up to. Put new pictures of your cat up? Liking it already. Complaining about the weather? I’m sure I can find some way to comment. And you don’t want to even know how many times I’ve viewed your pictures, all the way back to 2008. (Side note: Please learn how to limit your vacation pictures so I’m not just clicking through millions of scenery pics, I want the good stuff. Why doesn’t anyone take pictures of fistfights?)

I am the ultimate creeper.

I will admit to being addicted and it’s really not even worth it. Facebook is a bitch and can ruin my perfectly good days. That guy who told me he couldn’t stay long because had to get to work? Weird because then I saw pictures of him pop up in my newsfeed out with friends right after. Or that feeling I get when I’m ‘friends’ with someone and then suddenly realize I’m not anymore when I go to do my daily stalking. This brings a ridiculous feeling of inadequacy that goes through my mind and it’s horrible. “What did I do to make this person I met one time at a random bar not want to be friends with me anymore?!?” It also sends very mixed signals. One minute a picture of someone’s tantalizing dessert pops up and I say, “Okay Facebook, we’ll go get cake.” And then not even a minute later the sneaky vixen shows me a friends check in at the gym, as if to say, “You’re not skinny enough for that dessert yet hoe.” (I’m assuming FB is very mean when addressing me.)

Also, always remember that nothing is really ‘private’ anymore, no matter how many settings you place on it. It’s the internet, it’s honestly true that once it’s out there it can’t be undone. Someone will always find out, even if it’s not the person you’re hiding it from who sees it directly, I’m sure they’ll find out through those damn mutual friends.

Finally I’ll mention that there can be good things that come from this internet demon. On days when I’m feeling particularly bad about my breakup I can scan through and FB will inform me on things like, my ex went on a few dates with a preggo! FB is then my best friend again because those types of things leave me with the warm and fuzzies and really turn my day around. This is due to me being shallow and also because it reminds me that no matter how bad my days get, at least I’m not dating anyone with baby mama drama.

And that’s how I sleep at night…with my computer screen next to me.

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Honestly Trying

Posted on January 8, 2013 by upthestairs87

woman-alone-bed

I’m trying to be as honest as possible with all of you. I’m trying to let you see the scars that are slowly forming around my broken heart. If you feel it’s too much, or worse, not enough then I’m sorry. There will always be certain memories that I will forever hold tight and there are barely things my brain allows me to still remember. But slowly the memories keep returning to me, bobbing to the surface like the wood from a shipwreck. It catches me off guard and I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach when one day I’m standing in line at the grocery store and the person in front of me is holding a certain bottle of liquor that takes me back to a particularly painful time. I don’t mind humiliating myself in front of you and I probably will many times, but my goal has never been to hurt a person who I once loved with such a greatness. He doesn’t deserve that, no matter what has happened between us. So those memories will stay locked away.

He is a boy that made me laugh just as much as he made me cry. He made me happy for quite a while and so the last thing I want to do is damage that. Nothing I’ve ever posted has been a lie, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that everyone needs to know every little detail of our previous life.

There was wrong done on my end and I can’t hide away from that either. There were many times over the years that he would look at me with a hidden pain in his ocean eyes and ask me if I only stayed with him because I felt I had to. He didn’t want me to be with him out of some moral guilt, and he didn’t deserve that so the thought plagued him quite a bit. I of course, would brush him off and reassure him that I was still there because I wanted to be but that became less and less true the more I spoke it. I’ve mentioned that the last few months together were the roughest and during that time I’ll admit, I kept telling myself the only reason I was staying was because I had to. Because I had made a choice that couldn’t be undone. That was naive of me and unfair to him. Although he held on for longer than he should have, I also should have spoken up and said something. I should have realized that mistakes are part of life and don’t mean that they have to rule it.

Loving him has given me so much for my future. Before him I was lonely in a way I can’t even describe. I had never felt the type of love that makes you wake up in the morning feeling breathless when you once again remember that someone has chosen you, just you, and he gave me that gift. These days, I feel less unsure about myself, unlike before I met him. I feel like an actual human being who can have real adult feelings now. There’s a comfort in knowing that at some point, however brief it may have been, you were all that one person wanted. So I’m still learning from the mistakes I made and I’ll continue to quietly clean the cuts and hide the bruises on my soul in the process.

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Baby Fever or Mild Cold?

Posted on January 7, 2013 by upthestairs87

hipster baby

Let’s talk about kids. Let’s talk about babies. If you are reading this and you’re also my Facebook friend then you already know I have the cutest, sweetest, & funniest nephew in the world. I don’t think I exaggerate at all. And I was lucky enough to find out recently that my sister and brother in law are adding to their already great family and making me an aunt all over again, and I’m thrilled beyond words.

Being an aunt has been the best experience ever. From the first moment I got to hold him with his squishy arms and his bald head I knew I wanted to be the best possible person for him. My sister tells me often how the feeling of being a mother is 100x greater, and I believe her. I’m just starting to think that it might not be something that will happen for me.

I’m not stating that as a, ‘Poor me, I’m 25 and I’m all dried up and will never have children.’ That’s ridiculous. There was a time when I was much younger that I thought I’d be an old maid if I didn’t have at least 1 child by now but my perspective on that has certainly changed. I only mean that I’m coming to terms with the thought that I may never be blessed with the gift of motherhood. I mean, it’s still a goal of mine and something I’d love to happen and with these hips it would be such a shame to waste them. I’m just not sure I’d be as devastated as I used to be if it wasn’t in the plan for my future anymore.

That’s kind of a weird thing to start to feel okay with at my young age. I guess I’m still pretty selfish. I feel I have so much more to do in life and without the right partner around, I’m in no rush. My ex was very into the thought of having kids right now, he would mention it often and even brought it up as something we should discuss doing immediately. The thought made me shudder, but maybe that should have been more a sign of the health of our relationship over my desire to be a mother. I’m not sure if he really wanted kids right now or if he saw it as a way to keep our relationship together for a little while longer, at least he knew deep down it would have never fixed anything.

I’m not just selfish though, I’m scared. What if I have children and they’re drug addicts, or murderers, or worse…like me? What if I can’t take care of them the way they should? I’m not like my sister, I would have never known that something like a child wearing their coat in their car seat is a dangerous thing.

Still, the thought of holding a newborn or caring for another human being while loving them an indescribable amount is something that excites me beyond belief, but I also have 3 siblings so I know that I also have plenty more nieces and nephews coming in my future to cuddle and dote on. I thankfully have many more years of getting this best aunt ever thing down.

chase

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