Realizations

[oceantheorem]

Today I was awesome.

Yesterday a large group of us gathered to sort of reunite after break, to catch up and whatnot. On the walk to the bar where we met, I and three of my friends passed a group of four guys who were walking the other direction on the other side of the street. I thought one of them was the architecture student I'd met a week and some days ago, but although they saw us, and we looked at them, and they looked at us looking at them, they didn't follow us. My gay best friend, upon hearing this short tale, advised me to call said architecture student today and mention that I'd been sick so I hadn't called, but that I thought I'd seen him and that had reminded me that I had his number. I took this advice and called said architecture student today, and after a bit of chatting he said I should call him later this week about meeting up for a drink on Thursday. Thursday was my suggestion, and I take full credit for making a move here (thank god for gay best friends, though).

Anyway. So I sort of have a date.

I also went climbing today, which was fair to middlin but not spectacular. And I hung out with some girl friends, which was fun and spontaneous. They fed me cinnamon buns and we watched Garden State.

And normally I know to avoid things like Garden State. I know the things that trigger memories of him, even if we never saw/experienced them together, and Garden State is one of those things. It's not as bad as, say, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I absolutely cannot watch unless I want to sob my heart out... but it's on the list of Will Make You Think of Him and Cry. And Garden State, I intuitively know, is on this list. But the movie had started by the time I arrived, and I didn't want to say that, in the first place I don't like it, and in the second place it will make me sob, so I watched it. I didn't sob, but it did trigger an emotional... trainwreck. You know, just like all the others.

So I drove home and listened to Only in Dreams super loud, because sometimes that will fix things. Weezer has cool powers like that. Unfortunately, this time I was paying more attention to traffic and rain than I was to the music, so it didn't seep in, and as I walked the two blocks from my parking lot to my house, I talked to myself (yes, I am neurotic). Mostly I yelled at myself for not being able to let go of anything, ever. I was referring especially to (shall we refer to him as the physicist? or something more accurately definitive, like, "the only serious relationship I've ever had"? eh, too long. "the physicist" will work) the physicist, and how in the last four months I've suddenly begun to miss him, six or seven months after breaking his heart, and how I can't seem to get hold of the fact that he's dating someone else and is doing perfectly well without me. I miss him, I want him, everything reminds me of him--clothing he bought me that I adore, music he gave me that I adore, music he tried to give me that I "discovered" after we broke up, movies we watched together, etc. etc. etc. I berated myself for my inability to live life without being obsessed with someone. What is this hole in me that needs to be filled by someone I want but can't have?

I got home and Ann had sent me a link to an article about Dumper's Remorse. It seemed very apt by title, but once I started reading it, it seemed to be addressed only to women who ended relationships in which the men had cheated or been horrible people or other such nonsense, and the physicist of course did none of these awful things. He was clingy, yes, but that was once I started to pull away, I said to myself. The fault was mine and mine alone, and Dumper's Remorse lives on in my head.

So I sobbed for a few minutes, during which I actually thought to myself, "Hey! Emotions! Real tears! Check that out, you're gonna be okay!" Which was sort of silly, but also sort of true. I then had nearly a two-hour conversation with Evan, during which I had a very key realization.

Yes, I may have made the fatal mistake of... whatever. I fell out of love with him, or freaked out, or whatever, and I know exactly when it was. It was the first week of January, 2006. And yes, for argument's sake let's say it was all my fault. The realization was this: we didn't break up until three months later. THREE MONTHS. During which I attempted repeatedly to communicate to him my unhappiness and my need for space, support, etc. And it may have started out as my fault, but he didn't save us, he didn't try to save us, he pretended we were fine and I went on and on in my unhappy way until I couldn't handle it anymore. And yes, I may have been at fault at first, but there are two people in any relationship, and in very, very few cases can only one person be blamed. So I HAVE to stop self-flagellating and forgive myself for being human and for getting out of a relationship that wasn't making me happy. Maybe he was the one, maybe I made a mistake, but at the time I did the best with what I had, and he didn't fight for us until it was too late. So I'm going to forgive myself now. Or try to.

I watched A Lot Like Love tonight, and, as usual, I felt all warm and fuzzy. Some relationship movies make me sob and some make me so hopeful. This is one of the hopeful ones. Maybe things will work out with the architect, who is graduating this year and moving away, and maybe things will work out with someone in my program, and maybe things will work out with someone who lives in California whom I won't meet until after I finish/leave grad school. But the San Francisco Christmas feeling of "It's all going to be okay" has settled around my shoulders again (maybe the two glasses of Santa Cruz Hunter Hill port helped that?), and I think, yeah, I'm gonna make it.

Sweet dreams, kids.

Comments

[either-or.livejournal.com]

"only in dreams" helps me in all sorts of situations, too. i don't know why.

[oceantheorem.livejournal.com]

It's just good. You know how some people claim that some music changed their lives? That always seems a bit silly to me until I think about Only in Dreams. I think it probably did change my life, although I have absolutely no idea in what way.

Hmm, I used to have weezer icons... I wonder what happened to them....

[either-or.livejournal.com]

i've never had port. i really should.

[oceantheorem.livejournal.com]

Oh yeah, it's fantastic. It's a little bit sweet, and it's a lot higher alcohol than normal wine. You normally drink small glasses of it. Good stuff.

[bananasofdeath.livejournal.com]

Talking to yourself is more normal than not, I think.

[oceantheorem.livejournal.com]

Wait, talking to yourself out loud? In public? That's normal? I always thought it made me seem somewhat... deranged. Like I might possibly be harmful to small children or pets.

[bananasofdeath.livejournal.com]

Heh. Out loud might be a bit odd, but in public isn't unless you're actually with people; the guy across the street picking his nose doesn't count. In any case, even out loud, I don't think it's that bad.

[bananasofdeath.livejournal.com]

And by out loud, I mean, like, really out loud, like in a normal conversational voice. I sort of talk out loud, but it's kind of a low mutter.

Then again, my normal conversational voice is also kind of a low mutter. Hmm.

[oceantheorem.livejournal.com]

Hmmm. Yeah, it's usually a low mutter sort of thing. And the guy across the street picking his nose doesn't concern me, but when I catch myself talking out loud to myself, say, in a grocery store, when there are other people in the aisle with me, that's when I feel like I've gone off the deep end. And the weird part is not that I'm thinking out loud, it's that I'm giving myself instructions out loud, as though I were two people and one of me was a small child being instructed by the other.

It's weird.

But I'm pretty sure it's genetic, so I can at least blame my mother for it.

[bananasofdeath.livejournal.com]

No, I meant if you have a friend with you or some such. I was discounting people who aren't really connected to you except by physical proximity.

[oceantheorem.livejournal.com]

Oh. I generally only talk to myself when I'm alone. So I guess I'm okay there then.

[bananasofdeath.livejournal.com]

Yeah. =]