oceantheorem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oceantheorem) wrote2004-11-21 08:29 pm
oceantheorem) wrote2004-11-21 08:29 pm
The Ending of The Jamie Story (the real one this time)
A ton has happened in the last two weeks. Everything finally came to an end yesterday; I know where I stand, I know what I want, and I got the closure I'd been wanting for the last eight months.
So here's the story, for those of you that care, and those of you that were beginning to wonder if Jamie and I were going to become George and I, and if I was going to mope and whine about him for another three years. Your answer is no (thank God. moping and whining takes a toll on you after a while).
Parts of this are straight from my paper journal.
Two weeks ago, Nick, Jamie, David, and I went to Costco. Jamie and I got a cart togeter and went off shopping. We met back up with Nick and David later. I was standing there next to our cart, my hand on it, near Jamie, who'd been pushing it, and Nick looks at us and says, "So why did you two break up?" Somewhat stunned, one of us said, "What?" Nick says, "Every time we hang out or do anything, you two pair up." Or something along those lines.He said more to me later, after we got home. But at that moment, I kind of looked and Jamie and both of us sort of shrugged and didn't say anything and then the conversation moved on. It was a very strange moment, and Nick was right.
Later, at home, Nick asked me how I really felt. I blurted out, without thinking (and with a little bit of melodramatic tearing up in my eyes), "I love him and I want him back, okay?!" And he said okay, and we talked a little about it. The interesting thing was this--I didn't mean it. I mean, I meant it when I said it, but after I said it I realized it wasn't true. It didn't feel right when I said it.
So I decided I was completely over Jamie, and that even if he threw himself on me and begged me to take him back, I wouldn't do it.
And immediately thereafter I stopped being able to sleep.
For more than a week, I couldn't sleep. I would lie in bed for usually about two hours, thinking about Jamie and all the good times we used to have together, and there was nothing I could do to keep him out of my thoughts. On the nights I managed to fall into an exhausted sleep, I would dream about him. Then I started to dream about him EVERY night, whether I thought about him first or not. The interesting thing was that I wasn't remembering the sex parts of our relationship, and I wasn't having sex dreams. I was remembering and missing and dreaming about being his best friend.
The return of the Jamie dreams (I had a seriously bad case of the Jamie dreams this summer that drove me nuts) signified to me that I wasn't as over him as I'd thought (obviously), which of course completely threw me off. I didn't know what I was feeling or what I wanted or what to do.
So the Jamie dreams went on for over a week, and I became very sleep-deprived.
I finally decided I had to talk to Jamie, because talking to other people wasn't helping. I tried to talk to him Monday (I'll take the lock off the entry before this one so you can all see how that worked), but I couldn't figure out how to start the conversation.
On Tuesday of this week, two things happened.
I got my second midterm back in BMB 100A. I thought I'd failed, but it turns out the professor "overshot" on designing a "challenging" test for us. The average was a 43, no one scored above a 79, and he said if we scored in the high 50s or so we should give ourselves a pat on the back, because that was probably pretty good (significantly more than 50% of the class got below the average; that worked out somehow with the grade distributions or something). I got a 64. So I was ecstatic, and my poor bruised ego (I've had a bad quarter for self-esteem, especially when compared to how good summer was for self-esteem) got a much-needed boost.
The other thing that happened Tuesday was that I went to dinner with Ann, and told her about the dreams and my confusion. She gave me the only really good advice I've gotten in a long time (other than from my mother, but that doesn't count). "Don't talk to Jamie. You'll just screw things up."
So I dropped the talking-to-Jamie idea and felt much better. And that night, with my reinforced self-esteem, I slept fine, sans Jamie dreams, and I haven't had them since.
I decided shortly thereafter that what the Jamie dreams meant (this time) is that I'm lonely, and I miss being his best friend. Sure, I miss the sex too, but what I miss most and what I wanted back was the best-friend status.
So Ann and Jamie and I went to San Francisco yesterday, and after a day of shopping at Pier 39 and in Chinatown, we ate dinner in a small cafe thing on Castro Street. Jamie asked if anyone had anything philosophical to say, and I asked if he thought men and women could ever really be friends (we'd talked about When Harry Met Sally earlier). He said, basically, no, and we (with Ann there, yes) had the conversation I've wanted to have for 8 months. He felt trapped and identity-less, so he insulted me and pushed me away, and I felt neglected and would cling. Vicious cycle. When I broke up with him, he'd been putting off breaking up with me for about three weeks. He doesn't think we'll ever be best friends again, not the way we were, and he's probably right. So, feeling ten times better, I went to the bathroom. Ann told me later that while I was gone, Jamie asked if I was okay, and she'd said, "Yeah, I think she just needed some information."
Ah, how wise Ann is.
So that's the end of the story--I don't want him back, I don't love him anymore (except as a friend), he said I can still wear his clothing (I love his sweatshirt), and we both know where we stand.
I'm getting better at this getting-over-someone thing. It took me 4 years to go through the whole George cycle, and only 14 months to go through the whole Jamie cycle.
I feel SO MUCH BETTER. I really hated not knowing what I wanted for that week or so there. I hate being confused like that. I like knowing what I want and what the plan is--for crying out loud, I'm the girl who decided at age 7 that she was going to be a biologist, and never once changed her mind.
Hey Ann, thanks for the sanity. Everyone else, thanks for the support, and I intend to be here for you when you inevitably go through crazy times like these.
I'm just so glad this is all finally over.
So here's the story, for those of you that care, and those of you that were beginning to wonder if Jamie and I were going to become George and I, and if I was going to mope and whine about him for another three years. Your answer is no (thank God. moping and whining takes a toll on you after a while).
Parts of this are straight from my paper journal.
Two weeks ago, Nick, Jamie, David, and I went to Costco. Jamie and I got a cart togeter and went off shopping. We met back up with Nick and David later. I was standing there next to our cart, my hand on it, near Jamie, who'd been pushing it, and Nick looks at us and says, "So why did you two break up?" Somewhat stunned, one of us said, "What?" Nick says, "Every time we hang out or do anything, you two pair up." Or something along those lines.He said more to me later, after we got home. But at that moment, I kind of looked and Jamie and both of us sort of shrugged and didn't say anything and then the conversation moved on. It was a very strange moment, and Nick was right.
Later, at home, Nick asked me how I really felt. I blurted out, without thinking (and with a little bit of melodramatic tearing up in my eyes), "I love him and I want him back, okay?!" And he said okay, and we talked a little about it. The interesting thing was this--I didn't mean it. I mean, I meant it when I said it, but after I said it I realized it wasn't true. It didn't feel right when I said it.
So I decided I was completely over Jamie, and that even if he threw himself on me and begged me to take him back, I wouldn't do it.
And immediately thereafter I stopped being able to sleep.
For more than a week, I couldn't sleep. I would lie in bed for usually about two hours, thinking about Jamie and all the good times we used to have together, and there was nothing I could do to keep him out of my thoughts. On the nights I managed to fall into an exhausted sleep, I would dream about him. Then I started to dream about him EVERY night, whether I thought about him first or not. The interesting thing was that I wasn't remembering the sex parts of our relationship, and I wasn't having sex dreams. I was remembering and missing and dreaming about being his best friend.
The return of the Jamie dreams (I had a seriously bad case of the Jamie dreams this summer that drove me nuts) signified to me that I wasn't as over him as I'd thought (obviously), which of course completely threw me off. I didn't know what I was feeling or what I wanted or what to do.
So the Jamie dreams went on for over a week, and I became very sleep-deprived.
I finally decided I had to talk to Jamie, because talking to other people wasn't helping. I tried to talk to him Monday (I'll take the lock off the entry before this one so you can all see how that worked), but I couldn't figure out how to start the conversation.
On Tuesday of this week, two things happened.
I got my second midterm back in BMB 100A. I thought I'd failed, but it turns out the professor "overshot" on designing a "challenging" test for us. The average was a 43, no one scored above a 79, and he said if we scored in the high 50s or so we should give ourselves a pat on the back, because that was probably pretty good (significantly more than 50% of the class got below the average; that worked out somehow with the grade distributions or something). I got a 64. So I was ecstatic, and my poor bruised ego (I've had a bad quarter for self-esteem, especially when compared to how good summer was for self-esteem) got a much-needed boost.
The other thing that happened Tuesday was that I went to dinner with Ann, and told her about the dreams and my confusion. She gave me the only really good advice I've gotten in a long time (other than from my mother, but that doesn't count). "Don't talk to Jamie. You'll just screw things up."
So I dropped the talking-to-Jamie idea and felt much better. And that night, with my reinforced self-esteem, I slept fine, sans Jamie dreams, and I haven't had them since.
I decided shortly thereafter that what the Jamie dreams meant (this time) is that I'm lonely, and I miss being his best friend. Sure, I miss the sex too, but what I miss most and what I wanted back was the best-friend status.
So Ann and Jamie and I went to San Francisco yesterday, and after a day of shopping at Pier 39 and in Chinatown, we ate dinner in a small cafe thing on Castro Street. Jamie asked if anyone had anything philosophical to say, and I asked if he thought men and women could ever really be friends (we'd talked about When Harry Met Sally earlier). He said, basically, no, and we (with Ann there, yes) had the conversation I've wanted to have for 8 months. He felt trapped and identity-less, so he insulted me and pushed me away, and I felt neglected and would cling. Vicious cycle. When I broke up with him, he'd been putting off breaking up with me for about three weeks. He doesn't think we'll ever be best friends again, not the way we were, and he's probably right. So, feeling ten times better, I went to the bathroom. Ann told me later that while I was gone, Jamie asked if I was okay, and she'd said, "Yeah, I think she just needed some information."
Ah, how wise Ann is.
So that's the end of the story--I don't want him back, I don't love him anymore (except as a friend), he said I can still wear his clothing (I love his sweatshirt), and we both know where we stand.
I'm getting better at this getting-over-someone thing. It took me 4 years to go through the whole George cycle, and only 14 months to go through the whole Jamie cycle.
I feel SO MUCH BETTER. I really hated not knowing what I wanted for that week or so there. I hate being confused like that. I like knowing what I want and what the plan is--for crying out loud, I'm the girl who decided at age 7 that she was going to be a biologist, and never once changed her mind.
Hey Ann, thanks for the sanity. Everyone else, thanks for the support, and I intend to be here for you when you inevitably go through crazy times like these.
I'm just so glad this is all finally over.
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Okay, it's too early in the morning. I'm going back to bed. Stupid physics.
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I’m in Reno by the way, so give me a call when you get in.)
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I should be getting in sometime tomorrow (Wednesday) afternoon or evening. Do you know when Richard will be in Reno? The three of us should hang out together.
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Can I come with you to visit Megan on Friday if you are actually going? As for knowing her, we started talking on LJ a couple of months ago; she claims that she ran through the sprinklers with us at your party a couple years back.
To me, in some ways being friends transcends boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. The fact that you guys can exchange clothing, (which connotes being naked in each other’s presence,) and still be friends represents the idea that you have achieved that transcendence. Sorry if that’s an English-majory response; don’t over-analyze it too much as it was just what I was thinking about yesterday.